There is an ongoing conversation in my house and in my mind
lately – a distracting, I-have-to-come-to-a-conclusion-at-some-point,
constantly-thought-occupying, one-sided conversation: a discussion of sorts; of
a sort I haven’t had in a long time (with myself) and of little consequence to
anything that actually matters. It’s a
rock ‘n’ roll thing, spawned by an innocent, offhanded disillusionment with XM Hair Nation. I know, right? How can that be? I was blessed (or cursed, depending on your
state of mind) to have come of age in the late ‘80s. As a result, I have an unnatural affection
for a lot of bands that most of you have never heard of. I’m not only okay with that – I prefer
it. Is it weird that Killer Dwarfs occupy space on my
iPod? Most definitely, but that’s what’s
what. I’m pleased beyond belief that you
don’t know who Gorky Park
is, that you don’t remember Keel, and
Krokus, and what it was like to be 15
years old in Mississippi. I do though, so buckle up.
The question posed to me was quite simple. She had no idea how confounding it would be. “I
don’t like all of the bands, but I like something about all of them.” That’s a positive but I wasn’t prepared for
the next. “I wish I could take what I like about all of them and put them in one
band.” Really? Why have I never thought of this? “If you had to assemble the perfect metal
band, who would be in it?” Again,
really? Do you understand the pressure
that puts on me? Living or dead? There are way too many undefined parameters for
me to answer that question. (Yes, I’m
aware of the false gravity I placed on this situation.) For the record, that is
a helluva thing for YOU to say to ME…but allow me to retort.
Since there were no boundaries placed, I will place at least
one – they have to be dead. My reasoning
being, that if we are going down this fantastic path then we should go all the
way. We should explore all historical
possibilities and not reside in the commonplace. If we are asking this question, then let’s
ask it in a manner befitting its relevance, right?
Where to start?
The obvious is the rhythm section. Quick, name the best dead metal drummer
ever! Eric Carr? He does get props
for his involvement with KISS but
that’s not the band I’m putting together.
John Bonham? Again, wrong
genre. Keith Moon? Yeah, he was a
freak. And if he would have lived long enough to see it, he would have been the
perfect drummer for my fictitious metal band.
If anyone, outside of the usual suspects, would have understood it, Moon would have. Also, I feel it imperative to reiterate that
this list isn’t the “best” musicians – it’s the best dead Heavy Metal musicians
list. For me, if I’m starting a band of
dead metal guys, and I’ve determined that I start with a drummer then I go with
Razzle. Nicholas
"Razzle" Dingley. If you
are near or around my age, then you surely remember that Razzle was the anonymous (at the time) dude that Vince Neil killed in his Ferrari on his
way to the liquor store that night way back when. Hanoi
Rocks remains in constant rotation for me.
When Razzle died on Sunset, HR was a world more important to me than
Motley was or ever has been,
really. That’s my dead drummer – Razzle.
You have to die like a rock star to be on this list too, by
the way. So who’s next? Bass?
If I were starting a band of any sort right this second, I would try to
contact Les Claypool. Unfortunately, that dude’s not dead. (Fortunately, actually – Primus makes me
happy) John Entwistle of the Who
is dead though and he is a solid candidate.
I feel that that their involvement in popular music eliminates ‘Twis from the conversation. Favorite dead bass player? Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy. A black, Irish
rock star? Yep.
But, there really is only one option for me to hold down the
low end of my mania and it is none other than the saint of all (4) strings – Clifford Lee "Cliff" Burton, Metallica’s original bassist. Cliff not only gave us the epic joy that is Anesthesia (Pulling Teeth) he gave me a
belief in all things metal. His death precipitated
mandatory Metallica for me out of tribute.
His style wasn’t even conducive to the band he was in much less the band
that I’m trying to recreate but I can’t discount him. Cliff was a rock star and he died like one
before he ever knew that he was. If a
prerequisite for being in this band is rock star death, he wins. On the evening of September 26, 1986, Burton won the hand of
poker, thereby winning the first choice of bunk and pointed at Kirk Hammett and
screamed "I want your bunk!" Hammett apparently replied "Fine,
take my bunk, I'll sleep up front, it's probably better up there anyway". Burton was sleeping shortly before 7:00 AM when, according
to the driver, the bus skidded off the road and flipped onto the grass
in rural southern Sweden. Cliff was thrown through the window of the
bus, which fell on top of him snuffing the life of this brilliant musician. You want to be in my imaginary metal
band? Yep. I stop just short of saying the world would
have been a better place if Kirk had won that hand.
We are halfway there, if you believe as I do that a rock ‘n’
roll band of any consequence is a (4) piece.
Sure, there have been significant (3)’s and I might even be going for a
fiver so…
I’ve always whispered subliminally to anyone who was aware that
I would give my soul to play guitar like Mark
Knopfler. I can’t. As much as I pretend to practice his skill
set, I know I will never get there. His
is a different conversation. Warren DiMartini in my opinion was the most
underrated of the ‘80s metal guitar players and one of my faves. He’s not dead either though so who is it
going to be? Dimebag Darrell? Viable, yes
but not what I’m looking for. Stevie Ray Vaughn fits the bill in some
respects but he’s not it. There can only
be one dead guitarist in my metal band and that’s Randall William "Randy" Rhoads. I can’t be (25) again but Randy will always
be just that and he will always be that strange little hetero nymph to Ozzy’s bizarre counterpoint. Randy was still in Quiet Riot when Ozzy left
Black Sabbath and was auditioning
guitarists for his solo project. Osbourne was drunk and actually passed out during
the audition, but later described Rhoads' playing as "God entering my
life". Randy was classically
trained and the classical scales and arrangements he employed translated
through a rock ‘n’ roll filter were indeed mind-blowing. I didn’t understand at the time that Rhoads was a genius – I’m still
discovering that actually. In the spring
of 1982 before a show in Orlando,
the tour bus driver took Randy and his hairstylist up in a (3) seat, single
prop for a “joy ride”. During the
flight, attempts were made to
"buzz" the tour bus where the other band members were sleeping. They succeeded twice, but the third attempt
failed. The left wing clipped the back side of the tour bus, tore the
fiberglass roof then sent the plane spiraling. The plane severed the top of a
pine tree and crashed into the garage of a nearby mansion, bursting into
flames. Rhoads was killed instantly. How very rock ‘n’ roll, eh?
I’m going to break my own rule here because if I’m honest,
there is only one guitar player in my band, only one living guitar player in my
Band of Dead and that is Saul “Slash” Hudson.
He made being out of tune cool. He
made Axl less of a prick. He is the reason I started smoking. (Yes that’s embarrassing) I’ll submit this little factoid – if Slash
(or someone with a similar spirit mirror) isn’t in your band, you’re not making
it. I could wax on and on about it…if
you don’t know, you should. If you do,
then you do. The fact of the matter is
that I would rather be in a band with Slash than with any other on this list (unless
of course that other is Joe Strummer)
I'm tentative at best when it comes to guitar players.
This
is where I get especially troubled – who would my perfect lead singer be? There are way too many contenders for that
spot. Ronnie James Dio is the obvious leader of the pack in this musical context
but a little dark for this endeavor. Layne Staley. Bon Scott.
Joey Ramone. Kurt Cobain. Bradley
Nowell. All are great in their own right but not a match for this
band. There are only (2) choices in my estimation and
my internal battle is cage-match epic - Richard Shannon Hoon or Bobby
Durango?
Durango was the lead singer of Rock City Angels, a band that I stumbled upon in high school. They were from south Florida,
but had been exiled to Memphis from L.A. when their label
scrapped their original debut and made them write all new material. When they were recording Young Man’s Blues in
the winter of ’88, my buddies and I would see them hanging around behind Rum
Boogie or the Daisy and once we helped load their gear into the van. It was an awesome thing for a kid to actually
meet members of a band, any band. I
heard all of those songs through the back doors of random clubs that I wasn’t
old enough to get into through the front.
So when that album came out later that year, I already knew all of the
words and I still listen to it at least once a week. A lot of the music I grew up on doesn’t hold
up over time – most of it wasn’t that good to begin with, but RCA’s music
does. It’s still relevant and doesn’t
sound dated. It was an
aggressive mix of punk and glam. Durango sang of
rebellion, failed relationships, the underground culture in which he existed
and represented. He died last summer and
the details of his death have still not been made public. This fact alone precludes him from membership
in this band and that’s a damn shame.
Blind Melon wasn’t exactly metal but they were an incredible
rock band. Shannon Hoon’s vocal over those intricate, layered arrangements is
a thing of exceptional musical beauty.
In ’92 when their first record was released they were not on my radar –
I was more into Soundgarden and Alice in Chains. Once I
got over the fact that I thought Blind Melon was a hippy band, I finally bought
the record in the spring of ’93. I was
instantly blown away. I hadn’t heard
anything like it before but I knew right away that I had my summer soundtrack. As a bonus some of the band was from Mississippi and Hoon was from Indiana.
In October of 1995, I had tickets to see them at Tipitina’s in New Orleans but never got
the chance. On my way to work that
morning on the day of the show, I noticed a tour bus parked in a parking lot
off of St. Charles. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Shannon Hoon
lay inside said bus. Dead from a cocaine
overdose. That sucked. I would have loved to have heard what he might
have said next.
It’s a funny thing how deeply
music affects people, myself in particular.
It’s borderline obsessive that I’ve written this blog but I feel a heck
of a lot better having evacuated these thoughts from my head. These (4) musicians had very little in common
in life other than the fact that they all died before they got old. Their musical styles were all different. Their personalities probably wouldn’t have
blended and I’m pretty sure that Cliff would’ve kicked everybody’s ass just on
general principle but it would have been interesting to see the music they
would have made together. So there you
have it, my Band of Dead. Maybe some day I will tackle the mountainous
task of forming a super-group of living rock stars. Maybe.
Razzle 2 December 1960 – 8 December 1984
Cliff 10 February 1962 – 27 September 1986
Randy 6 December 1956 – 19 March 1982
Shannon 26 September 1967 – 21 October 1995
"I know we can't all stay here forever, so I want to write my words on the face of today. And they'll paint it."
-- Shannon Hoon
