I’m way pumped that Steel Panther’s Balls Out album broke the Top 40 for first-week sales. That is awesome and it brings reality one teeny notch closer to my dream of a Ozzfest-sized mega-glam festival curated by SPanther and friends. In my fantasyworld, the bill would mix glory-era acts that still rip (Cinderella, Kix, Winger), now-dormant underdogs from that time (Junkyard, Dangerous Toys, Love/Hate), super-special events (Ozzy, Zakk, Geezer, and Vinny play all of No Rest For The Wicked; the returns of Badlands, Blue Murder, and Bonham) and most vitally a bunch of great, young glam bands like Crazy Lixx, The Last Vegas, and Crashdiet. This historic fest would hail the genre’s redwoods and fertilize its saplings for tomorrow’s party metal forests. Um yeah. And absolutely, positively no Eddie Trunk LOL.

But for now, the reality is that Sweden’s brightest glam light Crashdiet is in Los Angeles to kick off a run of West Coast dates (info here). Fuckin’ A right they are. The Little Glam Metal Band That Could looks ready to party in hair metal Graceland (above, with beardo), so expect some big-boner performances this week. Let’s consider it dress rehearsal for Steel Panther and MetalSucks’ MEGA-BONER FEST L.A. 2015. See you there!

-ADF

Get awesome Crashdiet tourdates here and records here. 

Interview and live pics by Emily Eve; girls on stage pic by Friedia Niimura

In one sense, making records is like using the toilet: It takes more to do number two than number one. And in the case of L.A. heavy metal semi-parodists Steel Panther, a follow-up to their wildly funny and compulsively banging 2009 debut Feel The Steel is an even bigger, stinkier challenge: This time, fans can see them coming, um so to speak. But in the spotlight’s glare, before expectant ears and faces poised to smile, lead singer Michael Starr and crew deliver a bigger, dirtier, and awesomer mass of heavy metal hilarity called Balls Out (available Tuesday). The 14-track tour de farce covers 47 amazing minutes, a range of hot-button rocker issues (drugs, gender roles, boners), and a load of singalong mega-choruses and nip-scorching guitar solos unheard since pro tools was just an aisle at Sears. To those somehow able to resist Feel The Steel, I say: You’re fucked now. Balls Out is stronger than you and your feeble protestations. Crank. It. Up.

This feat of skill and cocksmanship on display in Balls Out begs for investigation, so last week I went to hear firsthand how Steel Panther achieved the equivalent of making a Ghostbusters II better than its Ghostbusters I. And though it was a rainy, gusty Autumn night, the huge Steel Panther dressing room was buzzing heatedly as I sat down with Starr and lead bass player Lexxi Foxxx to get answers. Just nearby were lead guitarist Satchel (at whom I gazed lovingly whenever his inattention allowed) and lead drummer Stix Zadinia (with entourage) as the three of us gabbed highly about Balls Out, drugs, vaginas, immaturity, maturity, the guy from Nickelback, shaving stuff, the responsibilities of being Steel Panther, and much more.

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Photos by Brian Schroeter

Though hard rock has arrived at retirement age, its senior classmen are flourishing on tour. Really, these years are the first in which old metal musicians exist, and 2011′s foundation will be built on someday by geriatric Gojira, decrepit Devin Townsend, crotchety Cave In, et al. Right around 2025, those bands might look to Ronnie James Dio, who played all aces til his final days; to Metallica, who in middle age flagged fast; to Judass Priest’s withdrawal from major touring (or whatever) and to the renaissance of Whitesnake, whose recent face-blasting gig with L.A. Guns and Skid Row was like a survival guide for bands seeking to enjoy fruitful third and fourth decades! I was there and learned a lot! Check it out:  Click to read more…

Am I high or is it weird that in 2011 nobody touts the first two Skid Row records as mega-masterpieces? What has undermined lasting renown? Is it that those jams are too heavy for radio listeners and not aggro enough for metal fans? Did major line-up changes doom them to be written off (except for the three enduring singles)? Is it Sebastian Bach’s fault? Is the rest of the band too stubborn and unambitious? Really, has there been a more compelling, awesome, and fearless heavy rock record since? Help me figure this out?

To me, it’s not a problem per se that one-time Skid Row vocalist Sebastian Bach is a huge jackass. One, his all-time top ten singing chops justify extreme arrogance and render decency unnecessary; two, reality TV and morning radio has immunized us all to dunderheads of Bach’s type. So fans are over it, right? Yet it’s still possible that Bach’s exhausting bimbo-ism has quieted the global and unanimous mega-acclaim that Skid Row deserves. How?

Think about it: Is it not Bach-related acrimony among the members of Skid Row that hamstrings their legacy-building? No reunion tours, no massive retrospectives, no anniversary celebrations. No documentaries, no tribute albums, no peer buzz. It’s probably Bach’s spaztardation that makes these things impossible. Click to read more…

With the occasional exception, guitar solo albums are basically ear porn. I mean, a feature film depends on things like narrative coherence and visual aesthetics, but porn consists merely of all-star fuck machines slamming junk. So the comparison to guitar mega-wankery is obvious: To dispense with the frills (lyrics, vocals) and just get to the acrobatics magnifies one aspect of music to veiny, cartoonish proportions. Shit, have you ever made it to the end of a guitar album? Have you ever sat down with some popcorn and enjoyed 50 straight minutes of dimly-lit shag videos? For non-weirdos, each answer probably is a firm no.

That’s why it’s so fucknuts when a shred album works. But it has happened. Cuz to some guitar records, there’s a message despite the absence of a vocalist; others succeed by sheer momentum and irresistible, awe-striking displays of skill; and at least one guitar instrumental album is a staggering work of narrative art every bit as epic as the greatest conventional rock record. Great guitar albums are hard to find; according to our own analogy above, the creation of one is as unlikely as an Oscar win for All Tit-Fucking Vol. 8. But defying the odds and deserving a spot in every music library are the following awesome axgasms:

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Though a blockbuster success, Whitesnake’s self-titled (or 1987) record doesn’t really cut it for me. The singles tell the story, with four steps back for each forward: “Still of the Night” is a monster jam, but “Here I Go Again” is only slightly too heavy for Journey, while the lameness of “Is This Love” might offend fans of freaking Kenny G. I won’t even listen to “Crying In The Rain” or “Give Me All Your Love” without double-condoms on my ears.

It’s funny cuz my upturned nose at 1987 is inconsistent with my throbbing, veiny worship of the album creators’ next two albums: the Steve Vai-charged Whitesnake record Slip Of The Tongue (from singer David Coverdale and crew) and the debut effort by Blue Murder (from summarily fired Slide It In/1987 guitarist John Sykes). It seems that most Whitesnake fans — lovers of bluesy tales of heartbreak and handjobs — reject the guitar wiz cacophony of Slip and they have a point: At a glance, its guitar work in general resembles an album-length harmonizer demo (See Strapping Young Lad’s “Satan’s Ice Cream Truck”). The point is that, though Slip crushes, I understand why it underachieved.

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Sweden’s glam metal renaissance is solely responsible for my throbbing, veiny ear-ection these days, but so far my fave jamz are from two sleek, uber-produced acts: Crazy Lixx and Crashdiet. Young me wouldn’t have looked twice at these synthy, post-Loverboy bad-boys-running-wild types, but goddammit it’s 2011 and I’ll take what I can get. Shit, the songs are there, so it’s cool. But secretly, what I’m eagerly awaiting is the raunchy counterparts to this scene’s Poison, Slaughter, Warrant, and Winger. (I think Goethenberg’s Hardcore Superstar splits the difference like Motley Crue.) Yes, I say let’s get some non-glossy, sleazy, bluesy, flashy, ribald, Swedish hair rock, cuz it’s impossible to overrate the best work of Badlands, Junkyard, Dangerous Toys, and BulletBoys. Oh wow stop the presses there go the fabulous BulletBoys right now! Big news!

BulletBoys’ self-titled debut album was a smash success during the heyday of heavy metal, going platinum and spawning the MTV and radio hits ”For The Love Of Money” and ”Smooth Up In Ya.” Now original members Marq Torien (vocals) and Lonnie Vencent (bass) have reunited to perform the LP from beginning to end for the first time in the group’s long and storied history.

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I had an awesome dream last night, in which I woke up (Waking up in a dream! Trippy!!!) to find the new Pig Destroyer album in my inbox. So when I woke up for real, of course, I knew it had only been a dream, but, perhaps hopeful that I had developed psychic abilities, I ran to my computer and checked my e-mail. There was no Pig Destroyer album waiting for me, but there was a new video from Bullet for My Valentine, “Bittersweet Memories.” Which is just as good as a new Pig Destroyer album… NOT!!! (Oh yeah. I went all early-90s on your ass.)

ANYWAY, let’s actually watch this thing and see how bad it is.

[tries to watch video]

Alright. I made it about forty seconds in. Anyone make it longer? Is there any reason I need to watch the rest of this? I guess I shouldn’t be so judgmental. I mean, every generation needs their Winger, right? This Winger just wears Slayer shirts to try and pretend they’re not Winger. No biggie.

(Yes, BMFV fans. I just compared the band to Winger. That would make you the Stewart Stevenson of any given social situation amongst other metalheads. Congratulations.)

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MS commenter “Sat,” also of HeavyStreet.com, has been requesting an MS interview with former Winger/Dokken/Whitesnake/Night Ranger shredder Reb Beach forever. Though today is not that day — and Hair Metal Week at MS is likely not that week — perhaps we’ll get to a Reb Beach interview some day. I honestly wouldn’t even know who to contact about that, but I’ll bet he’d be game; how many interview requests do you think Reb Beach gets?

I see why Sat wants a candid look into Beach’s mind, though; dude is a bonafide virtuoso that isn’t just about shredding for the sake of shredding. It’s obvious that the guy’s got a great sense of song structure and melody and has a great idea of what makes shred interesting instead of just a series of notes played in rapid succession. To classify him simply as a “shredder” would also be a gross mis-categorization… dude’s just a fantastic player through and through; he uses nifty chord voicings, has a great sense of melody (as previously mentioned) and has a bluesy tint to his playing.

Shred on, Reb, shred on. There is no question that your are an infinitely more talented player than Kirk Hammett.

-VN

The only time I ever saw Slaughter live, there were so few people in the crowd that Mark Slaughter (real name: Schlomo Slaughterowitz) was able to run through the audience high-fiving people. That’s a long way to fall from being on MTV and having the cock-eyed chick from 90210 in your video.

So I guess Mark Slaughter needs money, ’cause according to Bring Back Glam, he’s joining Nelson as their lead guitar player for their twentieth anniversary tour. Fucking NELSON. Man, I never knew anyone who liked Nelson. Like, I’d much rather be in Slaughter. In 2010. On tour with Winger and Enuff Z’Nuff and Jani Lane. That’s how bad it sucks to be in Nelson.

Of course, what Mark Slaughter and Dana Strum really need to do is get a Vinnie Vincent Invasion reunion going. Now that’s something I’d pay a shitload of cash to see.

-AR

Do people really compare Reb Beach’s guitar playing to that of Kirk Hammett a lot? I’ve never heard that fucking comparison in my life. I think you know how many hours of my life I’ve wasted sitting around stoned and contemplating metal to a ridiculous degree, and never in any of the many, many conversations I’ve had with friends about the guitar playing of Kirk Hammett or Reb Beach has the other musician’s name come up. I’m not even sure what the comparison would be, other than they’re both shredders. They play completely different styles of metal, and I don’t recall Beach ever being as fond of the wah pedal as Hammett.

My point being, I have no idea why Classic Rock Revisited asked Reb Beach to compare his playing to Hammett’s, but they did. And Reb Beach, as it turns out, is no Kirk Hammett fan. A transcript of Beach’s answer, courtesy the fine folks at Blabbermouth, follows:

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Thanks to reader Brett S. for sending us this tidbit…

Sometimes when I listen to metal, I think “Hey, this is awesome. I bet if there were no screaming or blast beats and an orchestra were playing the music instead of loud, crunchy guitars, people would actually give this the respect it deserves.” I mean, there’s a clear connection between metal and classical music, so it’s not really that big of a stretch.

But I’ve never, ever had that thought while listening to “Seventeen.”

And yet Kip Winger – leader and namesake of the band Winger (duh), a hair metal outfit so wussy even I don’t like them – has composed an orchestral piece, which will be debuted by the Tuscon Symphony Orchestra in November.

And, oh yeah, Kip’s name is “C.F. Winger” now.

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Loyal MetalSucks Maniac Steve S. sent us an email a couple of weeks back with a link to this video, asking us, “Who the fuck is Reb Beach?”

Dear Steve,

FAIL. EPIC FAIL.

Sincerely,
Vince and Axl

Steve comes close to redeeming himself with the following observation: “the editing makes it all dramatic.” Indeed, Steve, indeedily-do. We still love ya.

-VN

MetalSucks’ own Kip Wingerschmidt and the ballerina turned cock rawk supahstah from whom he takes his name have more in common than a mutual love of getting stone on Saturdays. Turns out they both think Lars Ulrich drinks donkey semen, too. Ulrich can spotted in A Year and a Half in the Life of Metallica (Y’know, the less-famous Metallica documentary that doesn’t make you feel quite as embarrassed to like this band) throwing darts at a pull-out of Kip Winger; now, in an interview with C.C. Banana for Metal Sludge (IT’S ALIVE!!!!), Winger has decided to strike back at the diminutive Dane drummer. Asked if he has himself ever thrown darts at Ulrich’s photo, Winger responded:
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It may’ve happened 15 years ago, but where we come from there’s no shame in digging up old dirt as the intrepid reporters at Buzzgrinder have, right? In a mid-nineties interview with Kip Winger, the hirsute bassist/singer shared his hatred of Metallica, apparently brought on by an offensive clip in the “Nothing Else Matters” video in which Lars Ulrich is seen removing darts from a pinned-up poster of Winger:

That is why it’s the great irony that we ended up on that geeky guy’s shirt on Beavis & Butthead, because Metallica couldn’t play what we play, they couldn’t do it, they literally – technically couldn’t do it. And I’ll fucking challenge those chumps to a fight any day of the week, but we could play their music with our hands tied behind our back.

And here’s said video. Fast-forward to around the 2:55 mark for the good stuff.

-VN

Say what you will about Winger, but Reb Beach was one hell of a fucking guitarist, surely up there with Nuno Bettencourt in the late-hair-metal-era-EddieVanHalen-inspired-underrated-guitarists category. Beach took EVH’s fretboard tapping, Floyd Rose dive-bombing sound and upped the cheese factor to the next level. But the dude had undeniable skill and he’s still got it, as evidenced by this video of him performing in the Suhr Guitars booth at NAMM last week:

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And in case you doubt my assertion that he ever had it to begin with, take a look at this clip of Winger performing “Headed For a Heartbreak” live on MTV circa 1989. If you don’t have the patience, just fast-forward to the mammoth solo at 3:35. Oh… fuck… yeah! The thought of a nearly two-minute solo airing on MTV seems so distant these days… as does the thought of a five and a half minute song… as does a band performing live… as does rock music… as does any music…. sigh. But I digress. Watch this fucker go. The vid is after the jump.

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Sammy, this one’s for you. Rest assured, somewhere Stuart from Beavis and Butthead is throwing his horns in the air along with you.

-VN

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