What Vince, where?
Do you know what's great about blogging? I can write about whatever I want without regard to current trends or be forced to wear a hat of criticism for material that I probably am too out of touch to understand and would, sub-consciously, compare to what fired me up about music in the first place.
I do stay somewhat current, but I afford myself the luxury of being current with what I choose to be current with. No force feeding pop culture for me, I decline to care about whoever has the dumbest neck tattoo and screams about some anti-whatever (politics, god, their broken home...etc.), and allow myself to be nerdy with my choices.
Alas, it was not always this way. A pre-teen Nago was as influential as anyone. Like so many an 11 year old, there was a gateway drug for me. I was aware of many styles and bands. I dabbled in AC/DC and Judas Priest. I had a strange fascination of Helix and Krokus, but the real drug that caught me, before Thrash ruled my world, was the one and only Motley Crue.
I know that each generation has their own version of what Crue meant to me at 11 years old, but there is still something about listening to the Shout at the Devil LP that is magical for me. I remember how big of a deal it was to see the video for Too Young To Fall in Love, and how these dudes were like super hero's to me then.
If you think about it, it's not that far of a stretch. A good gimmick was nothing new, Angus, Bowie, Kiss, Cooper and so on all had a gimmick 10+ years before the Crue hit my radar, Arthur Brown had his shtick years before that, and even before theatrics were in vogue, larger then life musicians must have had the same effect on the respective youths of their time. Elvis, Buddy Holly, The Beatles, even Clapton and Hendrix to a degree filled this void for many, I'm sure. They weren't human, they were super human, and treated like hero's. In hindsight, its kinda dumb to elevate someone who practiced his ass off in his bedroom to demi-god status, not that practice isn't important, or we shouldn't recognize achievements, but as a society we sometimes take it a little far...
I digress.
The first time I saw Tommy Lee throw rice at the old Chinese man in the TYTFIL video, he immediately became my hero. He was the best drummer ever because to me he was cool. I learned how to twirl a drumstick sorta like he does (a trick I can still pull off 30 years later), and learned some basic 4/4 drum patterns shortly after. Little did I know how disappointed I would be with this band just a few years later. I thought Girls Girls Girls was horrible, and I wont even begin to talk about how much I hated Doctor Feelgood, but by then I had long since graduated to Megadeth and the thrash movement.
Even later, I did not buy into, and have never heard, the self titled Corabi LP in it's entirety, same with Generation Swine and every subsequent release afterward. But secretly, even though I grew out of them, somewhere deep within me, I always rooted for the Crue. I have been embarrassed for Tommy on countless occasions. I have followed Nikki into songwriting endeavors, even saw him with Brides of Destruction. I have laughed at Vince over the years, mostly over his hit or miss singing, but also because of his stint as a fat guy on TV. And Mick? well, I respect that man. He is an unsung hero with a crazy back story, a crazy present story, and a sound that is literally all his own.
The Motley of today is not the Motley of yesterday. No one debates that. But I think that their ongoing success has something to do with the Motley image from 1984. I can't imagine that Tommy Lee is an influence on anyone these days. On his path to independence outside of Crue, he ruined a great drummer's legacy. "Drummer from Motley" is never the first thing I think of when Tommy is brought up, these days it's old wanna-be DJ, which is better then coke headed porno star, or reality TV flunkie, or shitty rap rocker... Pick your poison, Tommy will never be better then he was in '84 in the hearts and minds of millions.
The fact that I care at all to know anything about this dysfunctional group of weirdo's is a testament to the fact I will always hold them in a high regard. When I was 11, they were my gateway drug, MY band, my definition of cool to be grown out of, and for that, I make the following statement.
- Thank you for Too Fast For Love, an LP that is so burned into my DNA, that I can't listen to any one track without verbalizing the riff to the next track.
- Thank you for making me memorize the words to In The Beginning and forcing me to write them on my book covers in middle school.
- Thank you for Home Sweet Home (and the girl who pulled up her shirt in the video).
- Thank you for Red Hot, the song that I still bring up in "Is Tommy a good drummer" arguments.
- Thank you for reverse power chords.
Mostly however, thank you for being the band that grabbed my attention first. I promise that it yielded good things. In case you care, I still have a Shout at the Devil tee in my drawer.
Nago
No comments:
Post a Comment