Rock Revolution…Make it King Again!

Rattling along in my teal Suzuki Samurai that was barely able to muster 55 mph, it was a perfect summer day back in the early 90’s. The car, which may or may not have been made of tinfoil (never confirmed), was the perfect vehicle to get me through my high school years. With the sun bearing down through the open convertible top and the wind flowing through my gorgeous, beautifully groomed mullet, the yellow shades on the bridge of my nose were a stellar compliment to the bright, cut up neon pink sweatshirt that I had worn far too many times. Quite the visual of curly locks and coordinated pastels, eh? But the best part, by far, were the rocking metal tunes rolling off the cassette tape, blasting out of the popping speakers in a stream of notes that evaporated into the warm air.

I cherished those days. I miss those days.

Part of what made that time so special was the music. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily king, but rock was certainly at the top of the industry—and I’m talking about real rock, good time rock, rock that filled stadiums and just flat out made you happy. Motley Crue, Poison, Ratt, Cinderella…I would argue the bands of that era were some of the greatest entertainers that history has unfairly judged as today’s victim of a punch line or butt of a joke. Maybe it was the skin-tight leather and spandex, the blinged-out clothes, the metal chains, the sprayed hair, the excessive makeup—all of it perhaps an unintended distraction from the pure, underlying talent. But in reality, it was all part of the artistry, no different than the over-the-top eccentricities of a modern day Lady Gaga (who is wildly talented underneath the façade). I’d like to think they knew exactly how ridiculous they looked, yet were doing it with intention to portray and elevate the rockstar image that was reckless, rebellious…just plain fucking cool! I never personally partook in the drugs or promiscuity (did my share of drinking), but it was always fun to live vicariously through the sex, drugs and rock n’ roll lifestyle that each band created. Removing the exterior insanity, if you close your eyes, block out everything and just listen to the damn music, you’ll see how badass it really was.

It makes you smile.

It makes you throw down a mean air guitar.

It gets your blood flowing.

Nothing pumps you up like a killer, ear-splitting riff with a couple of guitars and pounding drums backing up a rock-god voice. Want proof? Watch any talent show on television—The Voice, American Idol, AGT—and pay close attention to what happens when a rock act hits the stage. The atmosphere changes, the audience changes, the judges change; the reaction is unlike anything conjured up by any other genre of music. And, as an avid exerciser, can someone tell me how in the hell people possibly work out to anything other than metal music vibrating your eardrums?

Late spring 1992. Shoved between the two front captain’s chairs, I was perched on a cooler full of alcohol as we trucked along the highway through the foothills toward Morrison, CO. Just about finished with our senior year in high school, it was likely that none of us in the van were strapped in, given ours was the last generation before seatbelts and bike helmets became all the rage. Up the hill, tucked away in all its glory, stood Red Rocks Amphitheater. If you’ve never been, I suggest you put it on your bucket list. I still fondly remember the pre-concert tailgating and the smell of the dirt floating in the air in the unpaved parking lot as we sat and drank cheap beer. A sea of shredded denim, short miniskirts and big hair flooded the venue that was unparalleled in terms of the live rock experience. I attended some great shows back in the day—Jani Lane of Warrant popping up in the middle of the crowd; Kiss, in their non-makeup era, with a giant Sphinx floating in the background; even REO Speedwagon, the first concert I ever attended (chaperoned by none other than my parents!). Words cannot express the beauty of melodic screeching guitars and booming drums bouncing off the majestic sandstone rocks as the sun sets on the reddish-brown walls. Maybe I’m biased, but I just couldn’t picture the same experience and emotions being generated by any other genre of music.

So why has rock music lost its luster?

It’s a baffling question I have pondered for the longest time now. Why did the ever-popular stadium rock bands fizzle out? Why has rock seemed to live on the backburner of the music industry for past several decades, and why does it appear to be a genre that no one wants to promote (while others, like country music, have continued to thrive)?

I have one theory, though probably rooted more in emotion than fact. The 1980’s and early 1990’s, in my humble opinion, were the sweet spot for rock and metal. The Golden Age, if you will. And then…one word. One nasty word.

Nirvana.

Apologies to all those who were fans of the grunge rock era, but I am still bitter to this day of the Seattle sound that crushed my beloved music. From that point forward, the rockstar died and the pariah lived. The party ended and angst took over. Everything became grim, dull, depressing—bright lights and colors were replaced by a tapestry of browns and greens. To me, the dismal vibe of that time sucked the life out of metal and deflated the balloon, and it has never recovered. Once the grunge sound died, it seems as though it simply left the rock genre in limbo—not gone, but pushed to the bottom of the pecking order in terms of what is signed and promoted in the mainstream. Don’t get me wrong, there are still some great bands out there today, but you sometimes have to search long and hard to find them (here are some of my current faves:  Through Fire, Bad Wolves, The Broken View, Fame on Fire).

How do we bring it back?

I’m sure it’s far more complicated and nuanced than my poignant theory above, and I certainly don’t claim to have all the answers. I’m just a fan who lost his shiny toy years ago. Is there anyone out there with industry knowledge that knows why rock has seemingly been blackballed from the mainstream for so many years? I’ve read a lot of different things, one of them being that the general audience for rock music tends to be older, and to that I wonder—is it the chicken vs. egg conundrum? Is it true that older people simply like rock better, or is it that younger generations haven’t shown interest because they have not had the exposure that we did in our youth? It really seems that the labels and those with power in the industry decide what is and isn’t popular at any given time, and rock has been a punching bag for far too long.

Perhaps the more important question is this—how do we start a revolution to bring rock back into the mainstream of younger generations? I can’t be alone, can I? True entertainment is about selling the escape from mundane everyday life, and badass metal with the extravagant rockstar did just that. It was a perfect formula and creative avenue that made people happy and filled stadiums. Screw the conventions of today that mock the brilliance of yesteryear. I say bring back the hair, the flamboyance, the fucking POWER BALLADS! I’m not saying just regurgitate the same old thing from decades ago—its more about the feeling that the music and lyrics induced. That’s what I want back!

Who were some of your favorites?

Of course I loved anything metal back in the day, including the big time headliners (I don’t know that anyone could top the vocals of one Sebastian Bach). But I tended to have a fondness for the lesser known, more obscure bands that were out there. These were some of my favorites that didn’t get the same air time as the bigger names, yet were wildly entertaining: 

Valentine, Julliet, Baton Rouge, Lillian Axe, Saigon Kick, Enuff Z’Nuff, Shy England, Sleeze Beez, Vain, Wildside, Shotgun Messiah, Blue Tears, Nelson, Kane Roberts, Electric Boys

Others?