Friday 5: So You’ve Just Been Divorced …
Happy Friday, MetalSucks reader! Welcome to MetalSucks Friday 5, our awesome series that appears every Friday (duh) on MetalSucks (duhh) and involves the quantity of five (duhhh).
Here’s how it works: A list of best/worst/weirdest/whatever five somethings is posted by one of your beloved MetalSucks contributors or by one of our buds (like you!). Then you, our cherished reader, checks it out, has a chuckle, then chimes in with a list of the same. No sweat, just whatever springs to mind, k? (Just like that movie about those losers working at a Chicago record store!) After all, it’s Friday — the day dedicated by the gods to mindless, fun time-wasting.
Here we go!
What five songs do you play for your dude who just got dumped?
Anso DF, MetalSucks Senior Editor
“Flying High Again” by Ozzy Osbourne
from Diary Of A Madman
1981 | Jet
One of heavy music’s icons made tabloid headlines this week when his 33-year marriage entered a dire phase. The cause and degree of the rift is not our domain; what is our business is the matter of being there for one of our own. Does he even have any friends at this point? Or has stardom, codependence, and feebleness insulated him from those who could swoop in and take him out partying? Those who could remind him that his ex’s control of the situation is painful, but he’s empowered by the fact that surely there’s stuff she doesn’t even know about muahaha? Those who would clear a path from him to the vaginas of her friends, peers, and assistants? One who must point out the value of engaging in the behaviors that he once disavowed on her behalf? We’ll do that for our guy. No use saying sorry.
“Stripsearch” by Faith No More
from Album Of The Year
1997 | Reprise
After a few days of cathartic barf partying, the dawn will break on our guy. The light will oppress him, strike the shadows that served as cover for his suffering, and bring into sharp relief the grim slog of his immediate future. We’ll have this Faith No More jam ready for that moment when the only consolation is that, hey, at least it’s over. For a while, pain shall move in and unpack its bags.
“Down On You” by Lillian Axe
from Love + War
1989 | MCA
In good time, we may lean over, pass a doob, and tactfully express to the divorcé that his ex always kinda sucked anyway. I mean really lady, nice fuckin make-up.
“In My World” by Anthrax
from Persistence Of Time
1990 | Island
What precedes closure is the most destructive phase, in which our suffering bud adopts the vibe of indestructibility. He’ll be emboldened by the thought that a mere human could never muster enough might to hurt him. He’s been through addiction, life on the road, careers in cut-throat industries, and enough loss and grief for five lifetimes. She expects him to beg or want for anything? Ha!! She just got nexted. He’s a god. She’s daytime TV.
“Numbered!” by Devin Townsend Project
2009 | InsideOut
Finally, after a few months we’ll arrive at our troubled friend’s new residence to see him seated serenely at his kitchen table sipping a latte and gazing onto his garden. “You look great,” we’ll say. He’ll reply that he can’t remember the last time he woke up full of hope for the future. Even the saddest days are beautiful, he explains, and he won’t be deterred by the prospect of more of them. Gamely twirling your tennis racket at him, you’ll chime in with that line from that famous book: “All energy flows according to the whims of the great magnet.” He’ll pop up and follow you out the patio door to the courts, whistling a tune by Devin Townsend, rolling on a pair of sweatbands. Ride the wave, dear Ozzy. We love you.
Your turn! Have a great wknd!