The 25 Best Loud Rock Albums of the 70s

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I often joke that I went from being Eddie Punk to Eddie Trunk, but that seems about right. A decade ago, I was this punk rock guy, who “hated Pink Floyd” and all other progressive rock, hard rock, and heavy metal (except, of course, for Motörhead, who it’s debatable what side of the rock fence they even fall on), resurrecting the tired belief that somehow lousy musicianship is virtuous, while good musicianship is a way for you to say you’re better than your audience.

But then, something changed. Motörhead led me to Hawkwind. Hawkwind was one of John Lydon’s favorite bands, along with Alice Cooper, Can, and Van der Graaf Generator, and later it turned out that John Lydon didn’t hate Pink Floyd after all. That was just a put on! In fact, he and Roger Waters are buddies, who hang out together from time to time, or so I’ve read. On top of that, like a lot of punks, I got into doom metal thanks to this band called Pentagram, who all of a sudden got kinda popular thanks to the release of a bunch of their early demos. That of course led me right to Black Sabbath, Blue Cheer, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, and any other band that could be labeled as heavy rock or proto-metal; and, since much of that came from or crosses over with psychedelia and progressive rock, well, you can figure out the rest.

Now I’m obsessed with the 70s. I picture myself as the teenager with long hair and mutton chops, wearing my denim vest, bell bottoms, and Dr. Who t-shirt, coming home from a drive-in theater, that just showed The Brotherhood of Satan, to sit in a wood paneled basement, that has Frank Frazetta, Ken Kelly, and Boris Vallejo posters on the wall, and play Dungeons & Dragons or Pong, watch old horror movies or Star Trek reruns on a black and white TV, or read Creepy, EerieVampirella, or Castle of Frankenstein magazines or Conan or Michael Moorcock paperbacks, while smoking a bowl, and having Blue Öyster Cult, Black Sabbath, or Alice Cooper playing in the background. Ah, yeah, good ol’ 70s fantasy…

70s loud rock is, of course, any rock music that came out in the 70s and is loud. That’s the only criteria. It can be basic, three chord glam rock, super complicated progressive rock, standard hard rock, early heavy metal, or bluesy Southern rock; just as long as it’s loud, and it’s rock. And, though I do like Yes, Pink Floyd, and many other progressive rock bands, many of them don’t qualify as loud rock, since they don’t use enough loud, distorted guitars. Got it?

Some bands I never even thought about including, but people probably think I should, are Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Queen, Rush, Aerosmith, Bad Company, Free, the Who, and Van Halen.

Some bands I thought about including, but just could not find a space for, are Cactus, Bloodrock, Captain Beyond, Sir Lord Baltimore, Warhorse, Humble Pie, James Gang, Jerusalem, Jericho, Josephus, Grand Funk Railroad, Status Quo, Montrose, Mountain, Trapeze, Leaf Hound, Hard Stuff, Lucifer’s Friend, Night Sun, Elias Hulk, Zior, Spooky Tooth, Suck, Bang, Buffalo, Coloured Balls, Buster Brown, Rose Tattoo, Quartz, Horse, Fuzzy Duck, Jethro Tull, Arthur Brown’s Kingdom Come, Armageddon, Dust, Pink Fairies, Widowmaker, Blues Creation, the Flower Travelin’ Band, Elf, Toad, and Eloy.

With that said, here are my top 25 loud rock albums of the 70s:

25. Slade – Slayed? – Polydor – 1972

Before Kiss, the New York Dolls, and AC/DC, there was Slade, who, in a rock world that was becoming increasingly dominated by arty progressive rock bands, gleefully played deliberately “stoopid”, basic rock songs, that consist of blocky, distorted major chords, bouncy 4/4 beats, and big, singalong choruses. Their music was designed to be played on the jukebox at the local pubs that the blokes would go to after a long, hard day at the factory. Or, as the opening couplet at the beginning of “The Whole World’s Goin’ Crazee” says, “I say we all get our kicks playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band/there’s nothing like the feeling when you give it all you’ve got/and people wanna shake you by the hand.” Yep, unlike Kiss, who borrowed a thing or two from Slade and boasted about private planes and limousines, guitarist/singer Noddy Holder, lead guitarist Dave Hill, bassist Jim Lea, and drummer Don Powell just wanted a handshake and possibly a pat on the back for bringing the people some rock ‘n’ roll. Why didn’t they become more popular in the U.S. like AC/DC? Not enough dick jokes? On their previous album, Play It Loud, Slade dressed like skinheads. But when glam happened, they grew their hair out, replaced the Doc Martins with platform boots, put on ridiculous costumes, such as Hill’s “Super Yob” suit and Holder’s Mad Hatter costume, and scored a hit with their double live album Slade Alive!. It’s also funny to note how, in the androgynous and graceful world of glam, Slade came off like a big, clumsy gorilla; there is NOTHING androgynous about Slade. Slade would release a lot of great albums, not to mention a movie, but the album I think that truly encapsulates their raison d’etre is Slayed?, the one where all ten song titles are spelled wrong on the back; one of those is of course “Mama Weer All Crazee Now”, which is the second Slade song to be covered by Quiet RiotThe first is “Cum on Feel the Noize”, which is not on Slayed?, but on their next LP, a singles collection called Sladest. Of course, I don’t need to tell you that the originals are better.

24. New York Dolls – New York Dolls – Mercury/Polygram 1973

Gene Simmons astutely pointed out that the Rolling Stones, the New York Dolls, and Aerosmith all pretty much do the same thing. Ya know, they all have the pouty lipped, effeminate lead singer, who prances around onstage, doing his exaggerated, limp-wristed, girly movies, and the lead guitarist, who acts like he don’t care ’bout nuthin’ man, commanding all of the audience’s attention, while the rhythm guitarist, bassist, and drummer function as the group’s metronome. Of course, the Dolls also wore gobs of makeup and thrift store rags, making them look like cheap New York street whores, and were supposed to be the big, “break-out” group from New York’s glitter/glam scene, which also included Kiss, Twisted Sister, Joey Ramone’s pre-Ramones band, Sniper, and a bunch of bands you’ve never heard of, like the Brats, the Planets, Luger, and Street Punk. However, while middle America could embrace an Alice Cooper, with his snakes and guillotines, and Kiss, with their over the top, Kabuki style make up and science fiction costumes, the Dolls were just a little too… gaaaa… girly. So, they made two albums, New York Dolls and Too Much too Soon, and fell apart. Like Kiss and Slade, the Dolls played basic, three-chord rock, throwing in copious amounts of Chuck Berry/Keith Richards style guitar leads for good measure; except, of course, not on “Lonely Planet Boy”, which is an acoustic number. But, unlike those other two bands, they eschewed the big, easy to remember choruses and celebratory feel, for a less overt pop song structure and tales of the shady characters they encountered on the streets of New York. David Johansen sounds like a “street” Mick Jagger, singing about personality crises, gloomy kids shooting up dope, lonely planet boys, Vietnamese babies, outcasts who think of themselves as Frankenstein, trash, bad girls, subway trains, and jet boys. And their cover of “Pills” by Bo Diddly, with its “rock ‘n’ roll nurse” motif, perfectly fits within their hardened worldview. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that New York Dolls was produced by Todd Rundgren, who apparently wasn’t very fond of the group, or that Malcolm McLaren managed the Dolls before he managed the Sex Pistols, or that lead guitarist Johnny Thunders and drummer Jerry Nolan started pioneering early punk band the Heartbreakers.

23. Judas Priest – Rocka Rolla – Gull- 1974

Like the Scorpions, UFO, and Thin Lizzy, Judas Priest began as something rather different from what they became more widely known for; which is, of course, helping create the New Wave of British Heavy Metal with aggressively fast metal songs, that consist of “chugga-chugga” riffs, blazing lead guitar solos, and comic book-inspired science fiction and horror lyrics; okay, and the occasional homosexual dog whistle (yeah, I didn’t know what a “Jawbreaker” was until I googled it either). But, before all that, Judas Priest was a Zeppelin-inspired heavy rock band, that came from Birmingham, England, the same working class, factory city from which Black Sabbath are from. By the time they released Rocka Rolla, their debut LP, which was produced by Roger Bain, who also did the first three Sabbath albums, along with a couple of Budgie LPs, 4/5 of their classic lineup was in place (the drummer position would always be in flux). Before adopting the studs and leather from the gay clubs, singer Rob Halford, who sounds considerably calmer on Rocka Rolla, than he would on later Priest albums, lead guitarists K.K. Downing and Glenn Tipton, bassist Ian Hill, and, in the case of their first album, drummer John Hinch looked like a typical, post-hippie, 70s rock band, with all their scarves and rags, like they’re some traveling group of rock ‘n’ roll Gypsies or something. Just LOOK at Rob Halford with that long hair that goes down to his ass and K.K. Downing with that hat, which makes him look like a member of Lynyrd Skynyrd. Isn’t that funny? Rocka Rolla has seven tracks, one of which is a ten minute, multi-part suite, and another, which is a soft ‘n’ pretty instrumental piece called “Caviar and Meths”, that I guess was supposed to be longer before Roger Bain took liberties with it. “Run of the Mill” is an eight minute long, somber ballad; the Sabbath-y “Dying to Meet You” is an anti-war song, that has a galloping second part, that sounds too happy for the subject matter at hand; and “One for the Road”, “Rocka Rolla”, and “Never Satisfied” deliver the bluesy, heavy rock goods. Judas Priest, however, no longer do.

22. MC5 – Back in the USA – Atlantic – 1970

I’m still not totally sure why MC5 gets lumped in with punk rock. It can’t be because of their music, can it? Their first album, Kick Out the Jams, sounds like Blue Cheer, who are pretty pummeling, but nobody calls them punk. Their third album, High Time, sounds like Grand Funk Railroad. And it certainly can’t just be because of their leftist, “revolutionary” politics, something that they magically adopted overnight when they hired manager and “spiritual adviser” John Sinclair to help sell their loud and heavy brand of rock to the hippies. Can it just be because of their assholish behavior, like when they wrote a “fuck you” letter in some underground newspaper to the Hudson’s department store for not carrying Kick Out the Jams because of the use of the word “motherfucker” at the beginning of the song “Kick Out the Jams”, signing it with the logo of their record label, Elektra, causing Hudson’s to no longer carry Elektra product and getting the group tossed off the label? Jim Morrison acted pretty obnoxious, and nobody calls the Doors a punk band. On top of that, the members of the MC5 were “disowned” by the “revolution” when their next label, Atlantic, bought every member of the group a new sports car. Some Communists they turned out to be, with their love of burgers and American muscle cars! Granted, singer Rob Tyner, lead guitarist Wayne Kramer, rhythm guitarist Fred “Sonic” Smith, bassist Michael Davis, and drummer Dennis Thompson were against the Vietnam war, as they so blatantly express in the rave up “The American Ruse”, but what band at the time wasn’t? And even if they had anti-war or even leftist views, punk rock wasn’t some left wing hippie movement in the first place. It was about writing short, catchy rock ‘n’ roll songs with sick, disgusting subject matter; at least until the Clash tried to ruin it with their Marxist bullshit. So, what makes MC5 “punk” or even “proto-punk”? Beats me. The songs on Back in the USA are short, punchy, and fast, and, with 11 of them, the album clocks in at a brisk 28 minutes, which is a stark departure from the heavy, psychedelic, bluesy metal of Kick Out the Jams. It opens with a cover of the Little Richard classic “Tutti Frutti”, closes with a cover of the Chuck Berry classic “Back in the USA”, and has nine killer, catchy cuts in between. One of those is “Looking at You”, which the band originally recorded for their first single in 1967 and was later covered by the Damned. Another is the Fred “Sonic” Smith sung, acoustic/electric pop rock of “Shakin’ Street.” Another is “The Human Being Lawnmower”, which has a whole bunch of parts and changes in the span of two and a half minutes. And another is the “I formed a rock ‘n’ roll band to get pussy” anthem “Teenage Lust”, which has this classy verse: “then one day I had the perfect plan/I’ll shake my ass and sing in a rock ‘n’ roll band/from now on, there’ll be no compromising/’cause rock ‘n’ roll music is the best advertising.” Yeah, THAT’S really progressive, eh? I also like the fun hand claps in “Call Me Animal.” The album even has a ballad called “Let Me Try”, which I often skipped when driving in my car because it’s not short and fast like the other songs, even though it’s still good. And there are a few others as well that I quite enjoy.  But, hoo boy, when I lived in Grand Rapids, I listened to Back in the USA in my car a LOT. I mean a lot lot. “Back in the USA” would end, and “Tutti Frutti” would start, and I’d just listen to Back in the USA over and over and over again on loop. And I suggest you do the same.

21. Ted Nugent – Ted Nugent – Epic – 1975

I think it’s absolutely appalling that any time a person mentions that he likes Ted Nugent, he has to preface it with, “but I don’t agree with his views!” Like, so? You don’t hear people doing that when they talk about Crass or the Dead Kennedys, so why do they have to give disclaimers for liking the Nuge? Since when did your voting record prevent you from enjoying the killer guitar playing in “Stranglehold”? It’s times like these that make me want to go back to the 70s, when you could enjoy music without worrying about explaining yourself. Anyway, Ted Nugent is the excellent debut solo LP from guitar slingin’, Motor City madman Ted Nugent, who had recently dropped the Amboy Dukes moniker, yet kept Dukes bass player Rob Grange alongside him, and recruited lead singer and second guitarist Derek St. Holms and drummer Cliff Davies. The aforementioned “Stranglehold” is quite the guitar workout, and for someone who claims to be a clean livin’ man, he sure provided a helluva soundtrack to smoke some ganja to, with that pulsating bass, that seems as though it’s mixed louder than the guitar, and all those “wah-wah” effects, especially during the lengthy, jammy part. After “Stranglehold”, the album goes into “full-on” rock mode with “Stormtroopin'”, a clarion call for the second amendment if there ever was one, the ballin’ boogie rock anthem “Hey Baby”, a few more catchy and energetic rock tunes, and the incredibly fast and punky “Motorcity Madhouse.” Though, I’ve always wondered, who ARE the “Snakeskin Cowboys”?

20. Scorpions – Taken by Force – RCA – 1977

Can you believe that the Scorpions have been around since 1965, seven years before they released their heavy, psychedelic, progressive rock debut, Lonesome Crow, which was produced by Kraut rock pioneer Conny Plank and features Michael Schenker, younger brother of rhythm guitarist Rudolph Schenker, on lead guitar? Some may be shocked that I chose Taken by Force as my favorite Scorpions album instead of Lonesome Crow, but hey! The other surprising thing about the Scorps is that there exists that group of people, myself included, that loves the bejeezus out of the Uli Jon Roth era of the group’s career; before they transitioned into an international, arena rock sensation with hit singles that you are all well of aware of. Don’t get me wrong; Lovedrive, on which Michael Schenker briefly returned to play on a couple of tracks, Animal MagnetismBlackout, and Love at First Sting are great albums, but this earlier stuff has that gritty 70s hard rock feel, that only a seeming lack of commercial ambition could produce. Just listen to the mean and angry riffs on “The Sails of Charon” or the headbanging, metallic crunch of “He’s a Woman – She’s a Man”, and you’ll see what I mean. I was going to congratulate the album for not having a single ballad, but then I forgot about the closing track, “Born to Touch Your Feelings”, which is a seven minute long ballad, and has a bunch of broads talking over each other in different languages. I guess better one ballad, than the FIVE that are on In Trance. Also, Taken by Force doesn’t have a picture naked little girl on the cover.

19. Uriah Heep – …Very ‘eavy …Very ‘umble – Vertigo – 1970

If there’s one band that exemplifies what people find funny about 70s rock, then of course, it’s Uriah Heep.  Like Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser of Blue Öyster Cult, Uriah Heep singer David Byron has a sleazy, cocaine snorting, porno star mustache, and a voice that is only slightly less wussy than that of Jon Anderson of Yes. But, if I actually did have a problem with David Byron’s singing, then I wouldn’t have included Uriah Heep on this list. And, of course, I could have picked the obvious choice, Demons and Wizards, as their best album, as it is quite good, and it would have put two albums with a Roger Dean cover on this list, but I chose their first LP, …Very ‘eavy …Very ‘umble, instead. In the States, …Very ‘eavy … Very ‘umble was released with the title of Uriah Heep, and had the awesome, crushing heavy number “Bird of Prey”, an alternate recording of which would lead off the group’s next LP, Salisbury, replace the ass boring “Lucy Blues”; but even with two songs that I’m not particularly fond of – the other being “Come Away Melinda” – on the British release, there’s still plenty of hard rock, heavy metal, and progressive rock to enjoy. On opening cut “Gypsy” and on second to last track “I’ll Keep on Trying”, guitarist Mick Box plays the crunchy riffs and solos, while Ken Hensley makes a bunch of noise with his Hammond organ, and Byron sings the lyrics in his over the top, melodramatic way, complete with “ah-ah-ah-ah”‘s. The songs “Walking in Your Shadow”, “Dreammare”, and “Real Turned On” are bluesy heavy rock guitar workouts, that have Hensley joining box on slide guitar. Although, I will say that, “Dreammare” does seem far too happy to be about a man that’s being haunted by demons, and it would have made more sense for the lyrics of “Dreammare” to be matched with the “scary” minor note music of “I’ll Keep on Trying.” That’s of course a minor complaint. The final track, “Wake Up (Set Your Sights)”, is also kind of odd, in that it’s a jazzy prog tune, that sounds like some sort of protest song, with lyrics about “standing up for your rights” and to “stop this killing.” But it’s still a good jam, and at the end of the day, isn’t that all that matters?

18. Mott the Hoople – Mott – Columbia – 1973

Ian Hunter is David Bowie without the arty pretenses. Now, before you say, “hey, asshole, David Bowie wrote ‘All the Young Dudes’, and without him, blah blah blah…” Shaddup, I KNOW without David Bowie’s help, Mott the Hoople would have broken up and languished in obscurity, only to be discovered years later by geeky collectors such as myself, but isn’t that kinda what happened anyway? Who really talks about ’em, other than, I dunno, Rodney Bingenheimer when reminiscing about the early/mid 70s Sunset Strip scene, where guys dressed like girls, thinking that that would get the girls? Anyway, Mott the Hoople perform big, glammy rock ‘n’ roll, that alternates between Elton John-style boogie-woogie (opening track “All the Way from Memphis” and the appropriately titled “Honaloochie Boogie”), hard rock (“Whizz Kid”, “Violence”, “Drivin’ Sister”, and “I’m a Cadillac”), and power ballads (“Hymn for the Dudes”, the also appropriately titled “Ballad of Mott the Hoople”, and album closer “I Wish I Was Your Mother”), but with the added elements of saxophone, backup vocals, and piano, so their music has that nostalgic, 1950s, theatrical feel. They should have done the soundtrack for Phantom of the Paradise. Like Bowie and Marc Bolan, Ian Hunter sounds thoroughly British. Like Elton John, he’s a piano playing lead singer. And unlike Bowie, he writes good songs. BURN. Okay, I like some Bowie songs, including the one he wrote for Hoople, but I still think his “meh” songs outnumber his “hell yeah” songs. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that, after Mott the Hoople broke up, guitarist Mick Ralphs started Bad Company.

17. Rainbow – Rising – Polydor – 1976

I still consider Rising, the second Rainbow album, to be Ronnie James Dio’s career masterpiece. The ingredients were just there. I wouldn’t consider it Ritchie Blackmore’s masterpiece because of all the albums he’s done with Deep Purple. But for Dio, who was a small man with a big voice, I consider it to be the best thing he’s ever laid his vocals to. The first Rainbow album isn’t bad; featuring the classic “Man on the Silver Mountain.” But with Rising, the combination of Blackmore’s riffs and leads, Dio’s powerful and somewhat melodramatic singing, Tony Cary’s prominent, but not overpowering synthesizer swooshes (except on “Stargazer”), and the new rhythm section of bassist Jimmy Bain and drummer Cozy Powell, Rainbow created a fantasy metal classic to satisfy one’s unashamedly nerdy Renaissance/Dungeons & Dragons obsessions. On top of that, I looove the Ken Kelly cover art, hooee! At 33 minutes, and with six songs, it’s a little short. But, short length and small song count is beside the point when you have material like “Tarot Woman”, with its minute long Moog intro and “welcome to the fair” mystique; or the “scary” and “demonic” “Sign of the Wolf”; or the mystical wizard anthem “Stargazer.” And the best is saved for last; closing track “A Light in the Black” is proto-Judas Priest, epic speed metal, that pre-dates the New Wave of British Heavy Metal by a couple of years, and features the kind of progressive/classical guitar solo that would become a staple of Iron Maiden songwriting. The two other songs, “Starstruck” and “Do You Close Your Eyes”, are straight-forward hard rock, but no worse for it. After a live album, On Stage, and another studio album, the also very good Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll, Dio would be off to spread his demons, wizards, swords, and sorcery message in Black Sabbath.

16. Nazareth – Razamanaz – A&M – 1973

Here is another band that’s criminally underrated thanks to the radio only playing their two most popular songs. The fact is that Scottish hard rock legends Nazareth released a series of really great records, leading up to and past their big, commercial breakthrough Hair of the Dog. My favorite is their third, Razamanaz, which among other things, was produced by Deep Purple bassist Roger Glover and features covers of Leon Russell’s “Alcatraz” and Woodie Guthrie’s “Vigilante Man”, both of which are better than their originals, since their originals weren’t being pumped through loud Marshall stacks. I know that seems rather superficial because a good song is just a good song, but Nazareth understand how to adapt the music of folky, bluesy, singer-songwriter people to the hard rock format, and singer Dan McCafferty belts out the lyrics in that tough, yet melodic way, which shows just how much a really good singer can affect how a song sounds. No diss on Leon Russell, mind you, whose version is a very good piece of country blues honky-tonk. On “Vigilante Man”, along with the humorous boogie rock tunes “Woke Up This Morning” and “Bad Bad Boy”, guitarist Manny Charlton shows off his bluesy, bottleneck slide guitar skills. Then you have the rippin’, opening cut, “Razamanaz”, the similarly rippin’ “Too Bad too Sad”, the Bo Diddly jungle beat in “Night Woman”, the dark, demonic, and scaaaaaary “Sold My Soul” (“So I cried in desperation/bowed to evil sorcery”), and the bittersweet album closer “Broke Down Angel.” I don’t know if anyone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that the Meatmen covered “Razamanaz.”

15. Motörhead – Motörhead – Chiswick – 1977

As of this writing, it would have been four days short of two years since Lemmy passed away; that is, only four days after his 70th birthday. But, ohhhh, what a legacy he left behind! I think I can safely call myself a hardcore Lemmy fan, owning just about everything he did, from his stuff with the Rockin’ Vickers, his LP with Sam Gopal, the pair of records he did with the Headcat, and of course every Hawkwind and Motörhead album. Anyone who knows the Motörhead story knows that they recorded a full length LP prior to Motörhead called On Parole, that didn’t actually come out until 1979, four years after it was recorded, and featured original guitarist Larry Wallis, who came from the Pink Fairies and briefly played in UFO. But, on the Motörhead LP, the classic lineup – Lemmy on bass and lead vocals, Fast Eddie Clarke on guitar and backup vocals, and Philthy Animal Taylor on drums – was in place, and ready to play loud, fast, heavy, blues based rock. The CD version of Motörhead has five extra tracks, but we don’t grade on curves, and thankfully the eight songs that make up the original Motörhead LP are just as good as the bonus material. All three songs that Lemmy wrote for Hawkwind are on Motörhead, along with several new songs, that were co-written with Clarke and Taylor, and a cover of the blues standard “The Train Kept A-Rollin'”, which pummels the daylights out of both the Yardbirds and Aerosmith versions. After listening to the opening track, “Motorhead”, it’s easy to see why punks took to the group in spite of their shaggy manes and seemingly outdated Hell’s Angles attire; the album continues with the punky “Vibrator”, which is sung from the first perspective of a vibrator. But then the album moves into slower, bluesier material like “Iron Horse/Born to Lose”, “White Line Fever”, and “Keep Us on the Road”, the last of which has a killer bass solo. Overall, it’s not my favorite Motörhead LP, since the best was yet to come, but as a cult heavy rock album, that was released amidst the burgeoning punk scene, it delivers the goods.

14. Deep Purple – Deep Purple in Rock – Warner Bros. – 1970

It took me a lotta soul searching and coin flipping to decide between whether to include Deep Purple in Rock or Machine Head on this here list, but the Gods have made their decision, and they’re sticking with it. Probably has something to do with the fact that I’ve heard “Highway Star” and “Smoke on the Water” a few too many times in my life, while …in Rock contains seven lesser known cuts, that are just as good as, if not better than, those two overplayed tunes. Do I consider the upper tempo, crunchy, down-strummed, power chord rocker “Flight of the Rat” to be proto-thrash? “Fireball”, the title cut from their next album, most certainly is. In general, though, Deep Purple have re-invented themselves has a heavy rock band, whose guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and Hammond organ playing keyboardist Jon Lord are foils of each other, while singer Ian Gillan shouts over the din, and bassist Roger Glover and drummer Ian Paice pound out aggressive, yet groovy beats. Deep Purple in Rock is sorta like Deep Purple’s second debut album. Having been around since 1968 and releasing three LPs – Shades of Deep Purple, The Book of Taliesyn, and Deep Purple – with original singer Rod Evans and original bassist Nick Simper, those two were told to take a hike, upon which, Evans formed Captain Beyond, and Simper joined Warhorse, and they were replaced by Gillan and Glover,who came from a psychedelic rock band called Episode Six, whose keyboardist and singer was this really hot chick named Gloria. Deep Purple then did a live album with an orchestra, appropriately titled Concerto for Group and Orchestra, heard Led Zeppelin, and went the heavy route. The album starts with a cacophony of random guitar and Hammond organ licks, almost as if to say, “we’re cleansing our pallets and starting anew!”, before the first crunching, distorted chord of “Speed King” comes crashing down, and Ian Gillan starts shouting a bunch of “good golly, Miss Molly”‘s and “tutti frutti’s” all over the riff; then the song calms down a bit, and Jon Lord and Ritchie Blackmore trade of improvised solos, as if their instruments are talking to each other. It’s neat! The somber, ten minute, anti-war epic “Child in Time” became a fan favorite, but what the heck is “Living Wreck” about? “You came along for a weekend/but you only stayed for one night/you pulled off your hair/you took out your teeth/Oh I almost died of fright.” Eek! On the other hand, the galloping, heavy metal closing track “Hard Lovin’ Man” appears to be about sex, though you can never be quite sure.

13. King Crimson – Red– Atlantic – 1974

I’m not one of these guys who jizzes all over everything that has Robert Fripp’s guitar noise on it. And I think that King Crimson have produced their share of unlistenable crap. On the other hand, King Crimson have also done some outstanding, genre-defining work. And it seems like they do it about once a decade. In the 60s, it was In the Court of the Crimson King; in the 70s, it was Red; and in the 80s, it was Discipline. King Crimson is essentially the Robert Fripp vanity band, and you can go to Wikipedia if you want to know who some of the Crimson alums are; we’re here to talk about Red dammit! And, on Red, Fripp is joined by future Asia bassist John Wetton and former Yes/future Genesis drummer Bill Bruford. The Fripp/Wetton/Bruford lineup had already done two albums prior – Larks’ Tongues in Aspic and Starless and Bible Black – and while I do enjoy those, Red is the trio’s masterpiece. Clocking in at 40 minutes, the five tracks on Red – “Red”, “Fallen Angel”, “One More Red Nightmare”, “Providence”, and “Starless” – take the listener though a head trip of fuzzed out acid guitar licks, multi-rhythmic percussion, bleating horns, whirring mellotron, and improvised violin scraping, going from quieter moments to full on crescendos, and containing a whole lotta complicated instrumental interplay. And, although it’s considered progressive rock, the influence of Red can be felt in much of post-hardcore, math rock, noise rock, and anything to come out of the indie scene that incorporates odd time signatures, multilayered percussion, and copious amounts of guitar noise; I’m not totally sure, but I think that the Jesus Lizard, Helmet, Nomeansno, Today Is the Day, Don Caballero, Drive Like Jehu, Polvo, and Slint might owe a bit of debt to Red. It is truly an ahead of its time record.

12. ZZ Top – Tres Hombres – Warner Bros. – 1973

Blues rock trio from Texasssssss…. hawt damn is Billy Gibbons an underrated guitar player! Whenever I hear “La Grange”, I picture a cowgirl in Daisy Dukes and a flannel shirt, that’s tied low enough for her to show off lotsa cleavage, riding a mechanical bull, as a bunch of cowboys and cowgirls hoot and holler. “Master of Sparks” is an amazing song and should have been a huge hit. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that Motörhead covered “Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers.” I once smoked weed while sitting in a room at the Soaring Eagle casino with my part-Injun girlfriend Amanda, and we jammed this album. Then we went to the casino, and I lost a bunch of money playing the ZZ Top machine.

11. Sweet – Sweet Fanny Adams – RCA – 1974

I read in some magazine that Sweet wanted to play in front of denim-clad heavy metal fans, not teeny boppers, but that’s the way the cookie crumbled when singer Brian Connolly, guitarist/keyboardist Andy Scott, bassist Steve Priest, and drummer Mick Tucker hitched their wagon to the glam rock movement, allowing Mike Chapman and Nicky Chinn to write the songs that everyone knows, like “Ballroom Blitz”, “Wig Wam Bam”, and “Hellraiser”, while writing the b-sides themselves. And it’s the b-sides along with their second album, Sweet Fanny Adams, that showed the other side of Sweet. The first Sweet album, Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be, was released in 1971 and contains a smattering of lightweight, bubblegum flavored songs, like the Archies inspired “Funny Funny”, while their second album, Sweet Fanny Adams, opens with a speed metal song called “Set Me Free.” Think I’m kidding? Listen to “Set Me Free”, with its high speed drumming, chugga-chugga riffs, and ripping, yet melodic guitar solos, back to back with “Exciter” by Judas Priest, and you’ll see what I mean. Of the other eight songs on Sweet Fanny Adams, five were written by the members of the band, two are Chapman/Chinn numbers, and one is a cover of “Peppermint Twist.” And let me tell you; Sweet are NOT a bunch of nice boys! Have you seen the lyrics to “Sweet F.A.”? “Well, it’s Friday night/and I need a fight/if she don’t spread/I’m gonna bust her head.” Nice! REAL Nice! Of the two Chapman/Chinn tunes, one is “No You Don’t”, a hard rock song with a musical tribute to “Pinball Wizard”, and the other is the lesbian glam rock anthem “AC-DC.” Of the band-penned originals, the ones that aren’t about busting a girl’s head for not fucking you, include the proto-punky glam number “Rebel Rouser”, the straight-forward hard rockers “Heartbreak Today” and “Restless”, and another chugga-chugga, proto-speed metal tune called “Into the Night”, that, like “Set Me Free”, sounds right at home among the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. Sadly, in typical American record label fashion, tracks from Sweet Fanny Adams and its followup, Desolation Boulevard, were chopped off, combined with single songs, and placed onto a compilation album also called Desolation Boulevard, that was released in the States; and Americans were none the wiser.

10. Thin Lizzy – Johnny the Fox – Mercury – 1976

I know what you’re thinking; that I’m just trying to be contrarian for not choosing Jailbreak as my favorite Thin Lizzy album. But, seriously, how many more times can you listen to “The Boys Are Back in Town”? Except if you’re that one guy who played it until he got thrown out of a bar. But, assuming you’re not an annoying hipster, who can only enjoy things ironically, then I’m gonna point you to the album that came after Jailbreak as MY favorite Thin Lizzy album. Though, considering how damn consistently satisfying they are with their duel guitar, harmony laced brand of hard rock, I could have easily picked any album from Fighting through Black Rose: A Rock Legend (I guess even Jailbreak, since it has songs other than the “The Boys Are Back in Town”, like “Angel from the Coast”, “Cowboy Song”, or, like, “Jailbreak”); but I chose Johnny the Fox, and I’m stickin’ to my guns! The albums before Fighting have their enjoyable moments, but Thin Lizzy hadn’t really found their sound yet; too much soft rock and soul for my taste. And that includes the Nightlife LP, the first one with Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson on duel guitars. The albums after Black Rose: A Rock Legend came out in the 80s, so even though they’re great, they’re disqualified for this list. The opening track, “Johnny”, whew, what a scorcher! It’s about this junky named Johnny, who robs a drugstore and shoots the cashier, then gets gunned down by the cops. Then the next song is called “Rocky”, which is about this guy named Rocky who wants to be a rock star. The third song, “Borderline”, is a soft song for the girls. The fourth track, “Don’t Believe a Word”, was a hit, but obviously not a big one, since most people don’t know it. And the next song is “Fool’s Gold”, which is a bittersweet rocker. Then the first song on side two is this funky jam called “Johnny the Fox Meets Jimmy the Weed”, which I’m guessing is about the “Johnny” from the first song. I just described six out of the ten tracks. Oh, just listen to the album.

9. AC/DC – Powerage – Atlantic – 1978

Do you not already know what you need to know about AC/DC? Do you not know that the group was originally signed to the Australian Albert label, through which they released their first two LPs, High Voltage and TNT, before signing with Atlantic, who then proceeded to do selective surgery on every AC/DC album that came out, chopping off songs from one record, and putting them on other records? Ever wonder why “Problem Child” is on both Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap AND Let There Be Rock? Did you know that the Atlantic version of High Voltage actually contains seven songs from the Australian TNT LP and two songs from the Australian High Voltage LP? Pretty freakin’ confusing, eh? I actually bought the Australian TNT LP in nearly pristine condition from Herm at Vertigo in Grand Rapids for $8! Ain’t Herm a mensch? He TOTALLY knew he could have sold that sucker for like $100 on ebay, but he took the high road, selling it to one of his loyal customers, instead. Anyway, Powerage is my favorite AC/DC album; just nine killer deep cuts and nary a hit to be found; the most popular song on Powerage is “Gone Shootin'”, which you might have heard on the Beavis and Butthead Do America soundtrack. If you’re wondering why all of their songs sound the way they do, ya know, with that swing or that groove, that few other bands running the same three chord rock territory manage to accomplish, it’s because they’re written around the drums. Favorite tracks are “Down Payment Blues”, “Sin City”, and “What’s Next to the Moon.” Also, isn’t “Riff Raff” like really fast?

8. UFO – Force It – Polydor – 1975

PROOF that all you need to make your band really good is just hire a really good guitarist! UFO had already achieved something of a cult following with their first three albums, UFO 1, UFO 2: Flying, and UFO Live, in Japan (where else), but as enjoyable as their spacey jams might be, singer Phil Mogg, bassist Pete Way, and drummer Andy Parker realized that a 17-year-old, German guitar prodigy like Michael Schenker might be a bigger boon to them than the three adequate musicians that came before him, who made copious use of their “wah-wah” peddles, but not much else. Okay, that was harsh; I really like the first three UFO albums, and the group briefly had Larry Wallis, who would go on to join the Pink Fairies and become a founding member of Motörhead. But the fact remains that few compare to Schenker with his signature Flying V. With the release of their third album, Phenomenon, UFO dropped the space rock sound, replacing it with a straight forward hard rock/heavy metal approach, driven by Schenker’s catchy riffs and melodic solos. Pick your favorite Schenker era album; mine is Force It. The others are No Heavy Petting, Light Out, Obsession, and the double live album Strangers in the Night. Then Schenker quit, briefly re-joining the Scorpions, before starting the Michael Schenker Group, rejoining UFO, and then quitting again. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that that’s Cosey Fanni Tutti and Genesis P-Orridge of Throbbing Gristle on the cover of Force It, which has one great, angry, headbanging track after another, only interrupted by an acoustic ballad, which is also really great, and a couple of bittersweet numbers. And, what a guitar tone!

7. Atomic Rooster – Death Walks Behind You – Elektra – 1971

Lead by bipolar organist/singer Vincent Crane, Atomic Rooster began after Crane had a nervous breakdown and left the Crazy World of Arthur Brown, taking drummer Carl Palmer with him. After the first Atomic Rooster LP, the cleverly titled and guitar-free Atomic Roooster (yep, with three o’s), Palmer joined Emerson, Lake and Palmer, and original bassist Nick Graham left a big, gaping hole, which would never be filled, resulting in Crane having to play all of the bass parts on keyboard. By the time Rooster began making their second album, Death Walks Behind You, they were a much heavier band, with John Du Cann, formerly of the Attack and Andromeda, playing the distorted power chords and taking over on lead vocals, and Paul Hammond, who might or might not be related to the guy who invented the Hammond organ, playing drums. The dark, eerie atmosphere of Death Walks Behind You is set right away with its eight minute opening title cut, that starts with a descending minor note melody played on a piano, as the guitar plays little Psycho-like high pitch screech sounds, before the pummeling blues riff comes in, and Du Cann sings, “death walks behind you!” in his mocking tone. Sure, lyrics like, “lock the door, switch the light/you’ll be so afraid tonight/hide away from the bad/count the nine lives that you had/start to scream, shout for help/there is no one by your side/to forget what is done/seems so hard to carry on” seem a bit corny, outdated, and overwrought, but then again, it ain’t as if the lyrics for “Iron Man” have aged particularly well either. The next track, “VUG”, is just a fun instrumental workout, showcasing the talent of the three musicians; as is closing track, “Gershatzer.” And, the shuffling, kinda funky, and super catchy “Tomorrow Night” became a hit. “7 Streets” and “Sleeping for Years” are these heavy numbers, that bring back the negative tone of the opening cut, and “Nobody Else” is a depressing slow jam, which gets rockin’ in the second half. Sadly,  thanks to Crane’s insatiable appetite for musical progression, he fired every member of Atomic Rooster before they had a chance to capitalize on their hit, and moved his project into a funky soul direction.

6. Budgie – Never Turn Your Back on a Friend – MCA – 1973

There’s really not a whole lot to say about Budgie other than that they’re a power trio, and that they’re from Whales. Okay, all right, twist my arm, I’ll say more; in case you were wondering, a budgie is a parakeet, and glasses wearing bassist/singer Burke Shelley sounds like Geddy Lee. Also, Tony Bourge was the original guitarist, and Ray Phillips played drums, and they had funny song titles like “Hot as a Docker’s Arm Pit”, “Nude Disintegrating Parachutist Woman”, “You’re the Biggest Thing Since Powder’ed Milk”, and “In the Grip of a Tyrefitter’s Hand”; the last two of which are ON the album I’m currently about to talk about! Otherwise, Budgie was AWESOME. I tell people that they were heavy like Sabbath, but grooved out like Zeppelin, and that they didn’t worry too much about that whole “musical progression” thing. This is why they probably never really had any hits, sticking with their blues based heavy rock and heavy metal formula, and occasionally throwing in a pretty, acoustic slow jam like “Riding My Nightmare.” But, who cares? Their albums all rock, and indeed, Never Turn Your Back on a Friend, with its Roger Dean cover art and its cover of “Baby, Please Don’t Go”, is my favorite of the eleven official studio albums that they released. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that Metallica covered “Breadfan”, along with another Budgie song called “Crash Course in Brain Surgery”, that’s from a different album. Oh, and “In the Grip of a Tyrefitter’s Hand” has a drum solo.

5. Blue Oyster Cult – Secret Treaties – Columbia – 1974

First things first: the “cowbell” joke from Saturday Night Live isn’t funny. It’s just not, so stop saying it. Second of all, Blue Öyster Cult is weird, maaaan… I know the world at large knows ’em for their three big hits, “(Don’t Fear) the Reaper”, “Godzilla”, and “Burning for You”, and those ARE great songs, but dig a little deeper, and you’ll discover that BOC were never a standard group of bar-cum-arena rockers that your baby boomer dad listens to; I mean, he might, but that’s neither here nor there. And I KNOW that, with his beard, Eric Bloom looks more like a film director or philosophy professor, than the singer of a band, and that guitarist Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser has a sleazy, cocaine snorting, porno star mustache, much like David Byron of Uriah Heep, but FORGIVE THEM!!! This WAS the 70s after all, and while some things looked cool, other things have dated. Thankfully, you can’t say that for the music of Blue Öyster Cult, at least on their first three albums. Hailing from New York, the group, which also consisted of keyboardist/guitarist Alan Lanier, bassist Joe Bouchard, and his brother, drummer Albert Bouchard, signed to Columbia, and released a trio of classic LPs; Blue Öyster Cult, Tyranny and Mutation, and Secret Treaties. Most fans agree that Secret Treaties is probably their best album. It’s not really “heavy metal”; in fact it’s not really “heavy” at all, and the drums sound like two little toothpicks tapping on a box of matches. But the guitars are distorted and hard edged, and Roeser plays basic, punky riffs, creepy little melodies. and jazzy leads, as Lanier accentuates the riffs with his keyboard playing and occasional synth solos, especially on the near progressive “Flaming Telepaths.” Like on the first two albums, BOC is basically doing a soundtrack to a Lovecraft story or something out of a Warren magazine; celestial beings, subhuman freaks,  people with telepathic power, harvesters of eyes, “Cagey Cretins”, “Astronomy”, and “doing it to your daughter on a dirt road”, as Eric Bloom so eloquently puts it in “Career of Evil.” Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that Metallica covered “Astronomy.” Also, the song “ME 262” is sung from the perspective of a Nazi fighter pilot and invents the colorful colloquial “heavy metal fruit.” Once the group hit pay dirt with Agents of Fortune in 1976, they would streamline their sound for the mainstream rubes, but thankfully they got weird again on Cultasaurus Erectus and Fire of Unknown Origin.

4. Iggy and the Stooges – Raw Power – Columbia – 1973

It’s punk rock AND it’s cock rock! Many people consider the Stooges to be the first punk band, completely incongruous with the hippie trends of the late 60s and the progressive/metal/arena rock trends of the early 70s. I guess you could make that argument and be about 70% correct, but you could find the same level of primal aggression in Blue Cheer, the same level of pessimism in Frank Zappa, and the same basic garagey rock in the Sonics, the Count Five, or the Nazz. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that the Stooges are a fantastic band; they released two underground classics, The Stooges and Fun House, with the original lineup – singer Iggy Pop, guitarist Ron Asheton, his brother, drummer Scott Asheton, and bassist Dave Alexander, along with saxophonist Steve MacKay on the second LP – before going on hiatus in 1971 when they were dropped by Elektra, and then were discovered by David Bowie shortly after. Initially, Bowie wanted to help Iggy Pop start a new band, flying him over to England and auditioning new musicians for him, but then Iggy insisted that his buddy, guitarist James Williamson, fly over as well, and the Asheton bothers joined soon after. Of course, now the band was called Iggy and the Stooges, and they had new management and a new label, and Ron Asheton was moved over to bass, allowing James Williamson to take over his original spot, but the Stooges were back. Running 34 minutes and containing eight cuts, Raw Power contains middle upper tempo, guitar fueled rock ‘n’ roll, over which Iggy Pop shouts antisocial sentiments like “I’m a street walkin’ with a heart full o’ napalm/I’m the runaway son of a nuclear a-bomb/I am the world’s forgotten boy/the one who searches and destroys!” in songs with titles like “Search and Destroy”, “Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell”, “Raw Power”, “Penetration”, and the perfectly named album closer “Death Trip.” James Williamson fills every space he can with his shrieking guitar leads, and the group soften things up a bit with the primarily acoustic number “Gimme Danger” and the slow blues jam “I Need Somebody.” They also throw in a fun, hand clappin’, butt shakin’ tune called “Shake Appeal.” Also, I like the 1996, over-the-top, “all in the red” mix more than the Bowie mix. Someone’s going to yell at me for not mentioning that Guns ‘n’ Roses covered “Raw Power.”

3. Hawkwind – Space Ritual – United Artists – 1973

“Dude, they’re the band that Lemmy was in before he started Motörhead!” is my standard opener before going into an endless tirade about the mighty Hawkwind, a band who I, shall we say, am more than just a casual fan of. Having started in 1969 and carrying on to this day, albeit with only one original member, guitarist Dave Brock, Hawkwind is similar to the Fall in that they flood the market with a bunch of albums, which confuse and intimidate the uninitiated out of ever wanting to jump aboard the ship, since they’re not sure what a good place to jump on even is. Of course, it’s slightly easier with Hawkwind, since you just go to the Lemmy albums first; Doremi Fasol Latido, Space Ritual, Hall of the Mountain Grill, and Warrior on the Edge of Time, the second of which was released in 1973, and is a double live LP that features most of the tunes from the LP right before it, one song from the pre-Lemmy album In Search of Space, a couple of new numbers, and a bunch of between song space gibberish about sonic attacks and seconds of forever; sadly, “Silver Machine”, the group’s most popular song and hit single, which Lemmy sang his first lead vocal on, and which made him Hawkwind’s most popular member during his brief tenure with the group, is not included. Space Ritual is surprisingly aggressive thanks to Simon King’s pounding percussion, Dave Brock’s three chord, “motorik” metal riffs, and Lemmy’s driving, proto-punk bass lines, especially on tracks like “Born to Go”, “Brainstorm”, “Lord of Light”, and “Master of the Universe.” And check out that bass solo on “Time We Left This World Today”! It’s also interesting how originally acoustic numbers from Doremi, “Space Is Deep” and “Down Through the Night”, were played as electric tunes and had bass and drum parts added to them. Throw in copious amounts of “wah-wah” solos, some sax bleating and flute blowing from Nik Turner, and some “wishy-wooshy” sounds created by Dikmik Davies and Del Detmar, and you have one hellova head banging, intergalactic trip through time and space to listen to while you stare at a blank, static filled TV screen after dropping acid or eating five pot cookies; if you’re into that type of thing, that is.

2. Black Sabbath – Vol. 4 – Warner Bros. – 1972

The kids today love their doom rock. And while it’s great that they’re at least ripping off one of the best bands, rather than one of the worst, they’re still missing the big picture. Black Sabbath weren’t only good because of Toni Iommi’s heavy, drop D riffs, but because they could also jam like nobody’s business. It’s hard to think of Sabbath without Iommi’s bluesy leads, Geezer Butler’s whirling, hypnotic bass lines, or Bill Ward’s jazzy drumming. And, with the monotonous, odd, and impossible to copy timbre of Ozzy’s voice, the formula was complete. Unlike their first three albums, Black Sabbath, Paranoid, and Master of Reality, Vol. 4 has no hits; just ten deep cuts, that make a good soundtrack for a trip into the abyss. On opening cut “Wheels of Confusion/The Straightener”, Ozzy informs the listener that he is but an insignificant speck in the universe, and that the world will continue turning long after he’s gone. The album gets a little less bleak with the second track, “Tomorrow’s Dream.” “Cornucopia” and “Under the Sun/Everyday Comes and Goes” have a couple of the heaviest opening riffs ever recorded. “Snowblind” is all about the cocaine, which is strange considering that Sabbath is a pot-smoker’s band. And “Supernaut” has science fiction lyrics about seeing the future and then leaving it behind. There are a couple of silly moments, like the sentimental vocal and piano ballad “Changes” and the proggy noise guitar piece “F/X.” And there’s also a pretty classical acoustic guitar instrumental called”Laguna Sunrise.” Otherwise, Vol.4 is Sabbath’s masterwork, or one of several, I guess.

1. Alice Cooper – Love It to Death – Warner Bros. – 1971

Known for his gaunt frame, “scary” jester and/or spider-eye makeup, theatrical stage show, golf enthusiasm, and alcoholism (though, it was revealed in the documentary Super Duper Alice Cooper that he also had a freebasing habit, which explains why he looked so emaciated between 1978-1983), Alice Cooper, the persona, was born on Love It to Death, the third album by Alice Cooper, the band, when it was released in 1971. After the Pretties for You and Easy Action albums, which were released on Frank Zappa’s Straight label, and contain a mix of psychedelia, hard rock, and free jazz, along with incomprehensible lyrical gibberish, Toronto based neophyte producer Bob Ezrin suggested that singer Alice Cooper (who was born Vincent Furnier, in case you were wondering), lead guitarist Glenn Buxton, rhythm guitarist/keyboardist Michael Bruce, bassist Dennis Dunaway, and drummer Neil Smith focus on what they’re good at; Stones/Who/Yardbirds-inspired hard rock, with lyrics about teen angst, sex, and the macabre. Of course, the rest is history; “I’m Eighteen” became a huge hit, and the group, and later the man, went onto mega stardom, with a career that continues to this day. Love It to Death contains nine songs, eight originals and a hippie spoof cover of Rolf Harris’ “Sun Arise.” Of the originals, one is the nine minute long “Black Juju”, which is driven by a dark ‘n’ heavy riff, accompanied by a spooky church organ, and is sung from the perspective of a voodoo priest, who appears to be resurrecting the dead. Another is the six minute “Ballad of Dwight Fry”, which tells the tale of a man who is put away in an asylum for two weeks, gets let out, and then strangles a man to death; for the song, Alice recorded his vocal track while wearing a straight-jacket, and, to this day, performs the song in one as well. The rest of the album consists of short, sharp, and catchy rock tunes, like the spoiled brat anthem “Caught in a Dream”, the punky “Long Way to Go”, the burlesque-inspired hard rock of “Is It My Body?”, and what sounds like a caustic warning against moral degeneracy in “Hallowed Be My Name.” I never quite figured out if Alice is actually trying to deliver the warning himself, or if he’s singing from the perspective of a religious figure watching his flock go astray in lines like, “sluts and the hookers have taken your money/the queens are out dancing/but now they’re not funny/’cause there goes one walking/away with your sonny/cursing their lovers/cursing the bible/hallowed be my name/yelling at fathers/screaming at mothers/hallowed be my name.” And the next song is called “Second Coming”, which seems to be about a guy who is trying to not go to Hell or something. Did I mention that Alice Cooper is a Born Again Christian and a Republican?

Al Jourgensen Supports Antifa, and He Has Ugly Dreadlocks

My friend Stephen Sigl and I decided that the once respectable Ministry is now dead to us after seeing the video for their (well, his) new song, “Antifa.”

I think, if you’ve read this blog before, you’re aware of what Antifa is, and you’d thus be against it. But, just as a reminder, Antifa is the far left group of so called “activists”, who claim that they’re fighting “fascism” by using coercive tactics, such as violently attacking people, starting riots, and just being an overall public nuisance, in the name of spreading “tolerance.”

Watch this travesty of a video, which so far has garnered 5,000 down votes (one of which is mine) and only 2,000 up votes, on youtube:

Ministry is of course the one-man industrial metal project from Al Jourgensen, who over the years has put out many fine albums, including Twitch, The Land of Rape and Honey, The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste, and Psalm 69: The Way to Succeed and the Way to Suck Eggs.

He’s also put out ones with FUNNY titles like Dark Side of the Spoon, Houses of the Molé, and Rio Grande Blood.

And Jourgensen HAS delved into politics before; in fact, just about every song on every album he made during the 00s was about George W. Bush and the Iraq war. But, where those were just criticisms, albeit repetitive ones, of an unpopular policy, Jourgensen, who now has hideous dreadlocks and a tackle box face, has gone full nut job, actually ENDORSING the Antifas in his latest music video, which was made to promote his new album, cleverly titled… ready for this… AmeriKKKant

I wonder if my reaction to Jourgensen’s taking on a pro-Antifa stance is similar to how some people reacted when Skrewdriver became a white power band in 1983.

Nah, I’m guessing not. See, I’m not offended that he took this stance; after all, I bought the Brujeria t-shirt, that has Donald Trump with a machete through his head because, after all, it looks fucking cool! And, if I was Trump, I’d WEAR the shirt. No, my problem with Jourgensen taking on a pro-Antifa stance is that he cheapened his art by OFFICIALLY endorsing a side. You see, JUST criticizing an unpopular policy need not be a partisan act. After all, I AGREE with Jourgensen that the Iraq war was a big ol’ waste, leading to the needless death of Americans and Iraqis, while shooting our national debt sky high, and helping to create a whole new group of enemies for the world to have to deal with in the form of ISIS.

But, then, when Obama took over for Bush, he shot our national debt even higher, droned and bombed MORE countries in the Middle East, and even helped depose Muammar Gaddafi, effectively destabilizing Libya for reasons unknown. And where was Jourgensen then?

Then, Trump gets elected, and everyone who hates him calls him “literally Hitler”, even though he’s really just a fun ‘n’ boorish New York multi-billionaire with a loose mouth, but an otherwise populist platform, that threatens the globalist elite. Then, in an act of “protest”, Jourgensen decides to endorse a violent, left-wing extremist group. My guess? He’s trying to stay relevant. Otherwise, I’m at a loss for words; he can’t be THAT dumb, can he? But, I do know one thing; it’s going to be difficult to listen to “Jesus Built My Hot Rod”, “Stigmata”, or “New World Order” ever again.

I Didn’t Stop the Pollution.

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not stop the pollution.
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not stop the pollution.
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not stop the pollution.
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to stop the pollution.

This is too real to ignore, who will stop the pollution?

My Thoughts on Charlottesville

FIRST, let’s get the unpleasant FACTS out of the way…

Here is Scott Rosendall’s demo reel.

Also, here are a bunch of 1960s garage rock and power pop songs I like.

Isn’t Faith Goldy cute?
faith_goldy Anyway, the bottom line is that, in this world, there are the people who you don’t like and the people you do like. Your best bet is to be around those you do like and not be around those you don’t like.

Anyway, chill out, and drink some cheap liquor.
shit_magnet_shitty_vodka

Prog Rock So White, So What?

me_josh_ian_procol_harumThe cultural apparatchiks can’t figure out if it’s worse for white people to “culturally appropriate” the styles, customs, and musics from various racial and ethnic groups or to avoid them. If you do the former, you’re diluting them with your lack of understanding and context, and thus you’re racist. If you do the latter, you’re showing in-group preference, and thus you’re racist.

So, when the very Anglo Saxon sounding James Parker writes for The Atlantic that “prog rock is the whitest music ever”, what is his point, other than he doesn’t like progressive rock very much? He begins by talking about a prog rock themed cruise that’s taking off from the port of Miami.

“We are the most uncool people in Miami.” So begins, promisingly enough, David Weigel’s The Show That Never Ends: The Rise and Fall of Prog Rock. Weigel, along with 3,000 fellow Yes-heads, Rush-oids, Tull freaks, and votaries of King Crimson—cultural underdogs all, twitching and grimacing with revenge-of-the-nerds excitement—is at the port of Miami, about to embark on a five-day progressive-rock-themed cruise: a floating orgy of some of the most despised music ever produced by long-haired white men.

Despised by who exactly? He goes on:

Do you like prog rock, the extravagantly conceptual and wildly technical post-psychedelic subgenre that ruled the world for about 30 seconds in the early 1970s before being torn to pieces by the starving street dogs of punk rock?

Absolutely. Blame Hawkwind, Can, and Van der Graaf Generator for that. I suppose you could also blame Alice Cooper and Black Sabbath if you think they scrape against the progressive rock genre; Sabbath DID hire Rick Wakeman to play keyboards on Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath, and the album has the weird sounding, Moog filled “Who Are You?” on it, while Alice Cooper blatantly said that he and his early band wrote the eight minute, multi-part epic “Halo of Flies” to impress the prog crowd. But you know who you should REALLY blame? Johnny Rotten. That’s right, the former Sex Pistol, who reverted back to John Lydon when he launched Public Image Ltd. in 1978, talked about how his favorite pre-1975 bands were all of the above mentioned. Hawkwind, the band Lemmy was in before he started Motörhead, was my gateway drug into all things nerdy and progressive. Their songs are long and jammy like progressive rock, but driving and aggressive like punk rock or metal; check out “Brainstorm” if you wanna hear thirteen straight minutes of spacey, Stooges-style, proto-punk aggression.

As anyone with a cursory knowledge of rock history knows, John Lydon was spotted in the Summer of 1975 walking down a London street wearing an “I Hate Pink Floyd” t-shirt, which lead to his landing the Pistols gig. But, if he HATED Pink Floyd (in actuality, he doesn’t), and Hawkwind COVERED Pink Floyd – “Cymbaline” – then that’s a bloody contradiction, innit? On top of THAT, Lydon openly and often talks about how he loves the very progressive Van der Graaf Generator. Listen to Peter Hamill’s singing, such as in the song “Killer”, and you know where post-Pistols John Lydon got his caterwauling vocal style from.

And so, I realized it wasn’t 1977 anymore, and my punk/prog tribalism was torpedoed FOREVER!!! There isn’t THAT big of a leap from Sabbath to the King Crimson track “21st Century Schizoid Man”, with its heavy metal riff and bonkers jam out section. And, although Crimson use a saxophone in “Schizoid Man”, Hawkwind, X-Ray Spex, and the Butthole Surfers incorporate saxophone into their sound as well. Pretty soon, I was aurally scarfing down the music of Yes, Genesis, Jethro Tull, Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Gentle Giant, Gong, Nektar, Arthur Brown’s Kingdom Come, Greenslade, Egg, Kayak, Fuzzy Duck, and Atomic Rooster, along with German progressive rock acts like Eloy and Birth Control – which shouldn’t be mistaken for kraut rock bands like Can, Kraftwerk, Neu!, Faust, Amon Duul 2, Cosmic Jokers and Tangerine Dream – Italian bands like Goblin, Banco Del Mutuo Soccorso, New Trolls, Area, Maxophone, and Premiata Forneria Marconi, and of course the extremely weird French band Magma. I also really dig the fantasy art of Roger Dean, which decorates the album sleeves of Yes, Uriah Heep, Budgie, and Osibisa. That’s right, James Parker, I listen to Osibisa, an all black group of African expatriates! How’s THAT for virtue signalling?!

So, to answer your original question, yes, I like prog rock. But go on…

Do you like the proggers, with their terrible pampered proficiency, their priestly robes, and their air—once they get behind their instruments—of an inverted, almost abscessed Englishness? I don’t.

You don’t say…

At least, I think I don’t. I like Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which is a kind of wonderful satirical compression of prog rock, a fast-forward operetta with goofy existentialist trappings and a heavy-metal blowout in the middle; I like the bit of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells that became the theme music for The Exorcist.

Actually, Mr. Parker, the Jethro Tull album Thick as a Brick is a spoof of self-important progressive rock conceits; that’s the album with the newspaper sleeve, which features a phony story about a nine year old boy, who wrote a poem that the Jethro Tull members thought was so brilliant, they used it as the lyrics for their album. In case you couldn’t guess, that was a joke. But you ARE right; “Bohemian Rhapsody” is a very good song, if a bit overplayed, and I like Tubular Bells as well.

Hated, dated, sonically superannuated … One could enjoy prog ironically, I suppose—listen to it with a drooping and decadent ear, getting off on the fabulous obsolescence, etc.

“Hated, dated, sonically superannuated”? What, are you Bob Dylan now?

Prog as a wild chamber of experimentation, a sci-fi trespass across the limits of popular music, driving clear of fashion and orbiting the Earth forever. Awesome. The problem comes, for me, when I actually listen to the stuff. Is it not a form of aesthetic dissipation to praise something for its ambition and its bold idiosyncrasy when that something is, objectively speaking, crap?

Okay, so you don’t like it. Nobody’s forcing you to listen to it, but when exactly did musical taste become “objective”?

Gentle Giant, in 1972, took a poem from Knots, a book by the great heretic psychiatrist R. D. Laing, and turned it into an intricate, multivoice chant: It hurts him to think that she is / hurting her by him being hurt to think / that she thinks he is hurt by making her / feel guilty at hurting him by her thinking / she wants him to want her. The idea is great on paper. But listen to the song, to its scurrying, fidgety instrumentation, its fussy avoidance of anything like a melody. It is not enjoyable. At all. Magma, the French prog band, invented not only its own L. Ron Hubbard–style cosmic origin story but its own language (Kobaïan, which reads like a sequence of Gothic expletives: Nebëhr gudahttKöhntarkösz). Again, very creative. But run, oh run, from the music.

Blah, blah, blah… Gentle Giant is actually VERY enjoyable. In fact Sherman Hemsley LOVES ’em, and you’re not going to argue with George Jefferson, are you?! More on point; Magma IS a very weird band. But their weirdness is fun, jackass. I remember driving around with my friend in our little burg near Detroit, blasting Mëkanïk Dëstruktïẁ Kömmandöh just to annoy people.

Eventually James “so Anglo Saxon it hurts” Parker attempts at cycling the piece away from his personal bias and back to what is allegedly the point of the article.

“We’re a European group,” declared the lead singer of proto-proggers The Nice in 1969, “so we’re improvising on European structures … We’re not American Negros, so we can’t really improvise and feel the way they can.” Indeed. Thus did prog divorce itself from the blues, take flight into the neoclassical, and become the whitest music ever.

Well, ACTUALLY, that’s not entirely true, and even if it was, who cares? Soft Machine (why didn’t I mention them above?) incorporated jazz into their sound, and if Jethro Tull, King Crimson, and Uriah Heep were as metal as they were progressive, then there’s no way in hell they abandoned blues. On top of that, Deep Purple, who I guess also straddles the fence between early heavy metal and progressive rock, started playing goddamn soul music on albums like Burn and Stormbringer. In fact, this musical change annoyed original Deep Purple guitarist Ritchie Blackmore so much, he quit the band because of it and started Rainbow. Oh, and you have heard “Money” by Pink Floyd, haven’t you?

Parker goes on to complain about Procol Harum incorporating elements of Bach into “A Whiter Shade of Pale” and then spends the rest of the paragraph bitching about Keith Emerson making cool sounds with his Hammond organ before replacing it with the Moog synthesizer, as if that violates some sort of anti-Hammond/anti-Moog code of honor. To be fair, Keith Emerson’s playing in ELP gets a little dense, leaving little space in the music for my taste, and it turns out Vincent Crane, former keyboardist for the Crazy World of Arthur Brown and band leader for the criminally underrated Atomic Rooster (how underrated, you ask? Check out the groovy ass “Break the Ice”, and see for yourself!), agreed. So, Parker, there IS a system of checks and balances in prog. On top of that, I don’t like how Emerson, Lake and Palmer couldn’t think of a better name for their band than just their last names separated by a comma and an “and”, but hey! At least H.R. Giger did the artwork for Brain Salad Surgery. And no, “brain salad surgery” isn’t an ethereal and philosophical concept; it’s slang for a blowjob.

Fiending for technology, vivid with turbulence, he went from the Hammond organ to the freshly developed Moog synthesizer. (The proper pronunciation of Moog, I recently discovered, is “Mogue,” like “vogue.” Perhaps prog should be pronounced “progue.”)

QUIT YOUR DAY JOB RIGHT NOW AND GET ONTO A COMEDY STAGE, YOU COMEDIC GENIUS!!!

Money rained down upon the proggers.

Horrible!

Bands went on tour with orchestras in tow; Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s Greg Lake stood onstage on his own private patch of Persian rug. But prog’s doom was built in. It had to die. As a breed, the proggers were hook-averse, earworm-allergic; they disdained the tune, which is the infinitely precious sound of the universe rhyming with one’s own brain. What’s more, they showed no reverence before the sacred mystery of repetition, before its power as what the music critic Ben Ratliff called “the expansion of an idea.” Instead, like mad professors, they threw everything in there: the ideas, the complexity, the guitars with two necks, the groove-bedeviling tempo shifts. To all this, the relative crudity of punk rock was simply a biological corrective—a healing, if you like.

Bitch, bitch, bitch… I’m guessing Parker hasn’t heard “Roundabout” by Yes. It’s got plenty of that “sacred repetition”, which makes a song hooky, enjoyable, and memorable. On top of that, I wonder if Parker has heard prog/punk hybrid groups like Nomeansno or the Jesus Lizard, who combined “the groove-bedeviling tempo shifts” with “the relative crudity of punk rock.” Though, he’s got a point; neither of those bands ever used dual neck guitars.

Also, economics intervened. In 1979, as Weigel explains, record sales declined 20 percent in Britain and 11 percent in the United States, and there was a corresponding crash in the inclination of labels to indulge their progged-out artistes. No more disappearing into the countryside for two years to make an album. Now you had to compete in the singles market.

So, music has to sell a lot of records for you to like it? But, punk rock records NEVER sold as much as progressive rock albums… unless we’re talking about Nirvana, the Offspring, and Green Day, and I know we’re not, so what’s your point?

Some startling adaptations did occur. King Crimson’s Robert Fripp achieved a furious pop relevance by, as he described it, “spraying burning guitar all over David Bowie’s album”—the album in question being 1980’s Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps).

Okay first all, Fripp had already played some fuzzed out licks on the Brian Eno album Here Come the Warm Jets, which, like a Bowie album, is full of succinct and catchy pop rock tunes, only better (yeah, Eno is better than Bowie, blow me.). But, if Parker wants to talk about “adaptations”, then he fails to mention the 1981 King Crimson album Discipline, in which Fripp and his group absorbed the neurotic, jittery, and deliberately stilted new wave influence of David Byrne, along with the Talking Heads’ synthetic businessman attire. Check out their Fridays performance of “Elephant Talk” if you don’t believe me! It’s AWESOME. Now, I’m no Fripp apologist; King Crimson have done their share of unlistenable, pretentious crap (Lizard, Islands), but when they nail it, hoo boy, do they nail it (In the Court of the Crimson King, Red, Larks’ Tongues in AspicDiscipline, The ConstruKtion of Light, The Power to Believe).

Yes hit big in 1983 with the genderless cocaine-frost of “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” And Genesis, having lost ultra-arty front man Peter Gabriel, turned out to have been incubating behind the drum kit an enormous pop star: the keening everyman Phil Collins.

Okay, yeah, “Owner of a Lonely Heart” IS a pretty catchy song, but is Parker actually praising the artless, easily listening muzak of Phil Collins OVER the weird and experimental Peter Gabriel?! Dude, if you want to LARP the 80s, coke-snorting yuppie lifestyle, there is FAR better music to do it to; for instance, Avalon by Roxy Music.

These, though, were the exceptions. The labels wanted punk, or punky pop, or new wave—anything but prog.

Except that, with the exception of a few noteworthy new wave or crossover acts like Devo, Blondie, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, the Stranglers, or the Police, punk rock never sold any records, and labels stopped wanting it after three years of watching it fail commercially. Sire only kept the Ramones on as a tax write-off.

“None of those genres,” grumbled Greg Lake, retrospectively, “had any musical or cultural or intellectual foundation … They were invented by music magazines and record companies talking together.” Fake news!

Parker can’t resist taking a swipe at Trump supporters with his “fake news” quip, as if Greg Lake said something that’s SO preposterous. EVERY genre or sub-genre is invented by the journalists and record labels, who group bands together into made-up tribes. For the journalists, it creates a sense of cultural or, I guess, sub-cultural cohesion, and for the labels, it helps sell records.

But the change was irreversible: The proggers were, at a stroke, outmoded. Which is how, to a remarkable degree, their music still sounds—noodling and time-bound, a failed mutation, an evolutionary red herring. (Bebop doesn’t sound like that. Speed metal doesn’t sound like that.)

Damn, dude… did you catch your girlfriend cheating on you while Close to the Edge was playing in the background? Speaking of Close to the Edge, have you heard the nutty first two minutes of “Close to the Edge”? If you don’t like THAT, then you know where you can stuff your “red herring.” By the way, if you’re using speed metal (or its close cousin thrash metal) as some sort of barometer with which to measure musical “evolution” by, then I’m guessing you’re not aware that most thrash kinda sounds the same. And this is coming from a fan of Motörhead, Venom, Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, Voivod, Exciter, Exodus, Overkill, Sodom, Kreator, Destruction, Sepultura, Onslaught, Possessed, Celtic Frost, Suicidal Tendencies, Corrosion of Conformity, and S.O.D. (but NOT Anthrax, sorry).

I feel you out there, prog-lovers, burning at my glibness. And who knows? If the great texts of prog had inscribed themselves, like The Lord of the Rings, upon my frontal lobes when they were teenage and putty-soft, I might be writing a different column altogether. But they didn’t, and I’m not. The proggers got away with murder, artistically speaking. And then, like justice, came the Ramones.

You do realize that the music of the Ramones is AS white, if not whiter, than virtually any prog band? According to Johnny Ramone’s obituary in the New York Times:

Mr. Ramone once described his guitar style as “pure, white rock ‘n’ roll, with no blues influence.”

You Can’t Bring Your Dick Back, but You Can Kill Muslims

george_takai_militaryI know it’s hard for the precious reader to fathom the idea that the person writing this piece has ever had trouble with the ladiez, but it’s true! There are times when I go out to the bar, talk to a few broads and strike out! I realize that I look unfathomably good, but it indeed does happen. I’m trying to make myself look better through a tough workout and diet regimen, which will flatten my stomach and bring out my chest, so I strike out less. But indeed, there are nights – many of them – where I’m forced to retreat to my room and have sex by my lonesome, coming up with all manner of depraved scenario in my head (I don’t watch very much pornography), giving myself the satisfaction I was unable to obtain via some skank or lonely barfly.

Of course I’m not alone in this regard; most men aren’t Casanovas. And, since our teachers taught us in sex ed that strokin’ the ol’ pole is a natural function, there’s nuthin’ to be ashamed of. In fact, it’s damn near necessary sometimes. Hell, it’s SO necessary, that when you HAVEN’T jerked off in a while, your body will force you to extract some of your milky, white testicle ooze during a wet dream.

And just to gross out the reader even more, when I was drunkenly and sloppily banging Jo the ex-stripper, who does the “fill in puzzles”, and I kept pumping and pumping and pumping, blowing one wad after another and charging back up within seconds before pumping and pumping and pumping some more, she asked the fundamental question about the male sex drive; “aren’t you satisfied?” In fact, she privately messaged me and told me “you were like a machine last night!”

Machine-like fucking notwithstanding, she understood that the male sex organ, the DICK, if you will, CRAVES satisfaction; that rising feeling that keeps getting better and better and better until it peaks and a release occurs, causing semen to shoot out of the tiny slit in the head of the mushroom. When women say, “guys only think with their dicks”, they’re right. The NEED to satisfy the urge is so incredibly strong that guys will lose friendships, get into fights, risk their lives, accumulate great amounts of wealth and build entire civilizations because of it; men have gone to war, and empires have been destroyed because of it. I’m not going to go into the specific seduction techniques a woman would need to control a man via the power of the male sex drive, but let’s put it this way; if you’re a woman of even moderate attractiveness, you pretty much never need to work.

On top of that, many women have NO IDEA how therapeutic sex can be. People say music soothes the savage beast. Wrong; sex does. It releases endorphins, truly taking the “edge off” a shitty day and calming the nerves. In Falling Down, all Michael Douglas needed  was a good blowjob…

So, what happens when you can’t relieve the tension in your loins?

The most striking thing about Born on the 4th of July was how Tom Cruise’s character had lost his dick in Vietnam. The fact that he had to piss through a tube was bad enough, but the hooker he hired was utterly useless. What could she do for him? Rub his back? Lick his ear? Those are the things you do to tease a man before giving him the payoff, that is pleasuring his holy mushroom. Hell, my dick instantly hardens when someone rubs my nipple. All pleasure sensations eventually lead to the dick, and he didn’t have one.

In Sam Fuller’s World War II epic, The Big Red One, after an explosion, one of the characters feels around his crotch and excitedly exclaims, “I still have my dick!” And don’t think there is ANYTHING funny about that. You could lose both arms, both legs, both ears and both eyes, have your tongue sliced off and half your face blown off, but if there’s a woman who can stomach blowing or fucking you, somehow life JUST doesn’t seem so bad.

You’re probably thinking, “yeah, okay, okay, I get it. Guys need their dicks, but what’s you point?”

I’m getting there, asshole!

Trannies are this week’s topic du jour thanks to Donald Trump banning them from serving in the military. And, while I have no problem with this decision, all sorts of issues have been brought up with regards to this sub-sub-sub-sub sect of society, one that nobody even thought about until some mentally ill assholes decided to shove their daddy issues down everyone’s throats.

“Transgenderism” is completely made up bullshit. You’re either a transvestite, which means you enjoy wearing women’s clothing, or you’re a transsexual, which means you had your dick cut off and replaced with an artificial vagina.

divine_2.0

And don’t get me wrong; I love John Waters’ films, but I would NEVER considered Divine to be a woman, and neither does John Waters.

“But, Edwin”, you say, “I STILL don’t understand what this has to do with men needing their dicks.”

Well, dipshit, what happens when a man becomes a transsexual? He done can’t use his dick no mo’. The physical male pleasure center is GONE, baby, and it ain’t NEVER comin’ back. I’ve read that the phony vagina uses the same nerves from the original penis, and the penis head is crafted into a clitoris of sorts, but I highly doubt the same satisfaction is ever achieved again. I mean REAL women, ya know, the ones who were born with a vagina, a uterus, an XX chromosome and the estrogen that makes them so emotional, complain that they have a hard time getting off. So the idea that one could achieve with an artificial vagina the same satisfaction one once achieved with his dick is pretty hard to believe.

Of course, the man who decided to become a “woman” knew all of this, right? Well, you would think. One of the biggest arguments against the “transgender” trend is that there is a 40% rate of suicide associated with it. The most popular and naturally foolhardy explanation for the high rate of suicide among trannies is that they get bullied and harassed to the point of wanting to off themselves.

Think about this VERY carefully… VERY VERY VERY carefully…

WHAT FUCKING GROUP OF PEOPLE HASN’T BEEN HARASSED AND BULLIED AT SOME POINT DURING HUMAN HISTORY??!!

According to this article, the high suicide rate among “transgendered” people has nothing to do with discrimination, but their high level of mental illness and depression. I’ll take it one step further. I would LOVE to see an HONEST study which EXPLICITLY measures the suicide rates of post-op trannies; because, you know what we call pre-op trannies in non-retarded land? MEN WHO DRESS LIKE WOMEN!!!

And remember, once you make the “transition” to the dickless side, there is no going back; no more nights of looking at whatever gives you a boner and relieving tension in a few simple strokes; no more splattering your goo onto your bedroom wall or sex partner’s face; no more endorphin release… it’s ALL gone…

On the other hand, if the ridiculous idea of aiding and abetting a dinky percent of the population pans out though Supreme Court fiat, and trannies are eventually allowed to serve in the military, they could relieve all their pent up sexual frustration by blowing away Islamic terrorists, so I guess it’s a win win.

Racist Chicks Turn Me On!

me_racist_girls_turn_me_onThe easiest ways to make me not want to talk to you if you’re a girl include, but are not limited to, the following:

a.) calling yourself “non-binary” or any of the other made-up, nonsensical gender designations that fall outside of “girl”, “woman”, “gyno-American”, or “person who was born with a vagina, a uterus, and an XX chromosome.”

b.) referring to the poor rube that you roped into a relationship as your “partner”, rather than your boyfriend

c.) asserting your political views over my biological needs.

I remember telling a former lady friend – oh hell, it was Sara B, who recently tagged me in a Facebook post telling our old friends to avoid me because I’m “raciss” or some shit – about a date I went on, where the girl said something along the lines of “I don’t have a problem with the good ones”, referring to black people. She could have been referring to Jews, but casually racist girls – who I find pretty hot, as the title of this piece says  – typically don’t think deeply enough to consider whether Jews are a religion, race or ethnicity; to them I’m just a white guy.

As a matter of fact, I was hanging out with some friends, and this cute chick saw me pull out my old flip phone and asked me if I’m Jewish, implying that I’m too cheap to get a smart phone. I said, “yeah… was that just a guess?” And she said, “I just kinda figured.” Then we had a brief discussion about whether it would make more sense for me to have already owned a smart phone since, given my background, I can allegedly afford all of the latest and greatest in technology (and I did eventually get a smart phone, but that’s besides the point). Regardless, this wasn’t a value judgment on her part; just a curious observation. NUTTIN’ WRONG WITH THAT!!!

Then I asked the big one: “do you consider me white?” She seemed rather bemused by my question. I’ll let the AltRighters in the audience ponder what her answer was.

But anyway, I was telling Sara about this date, and her response to my date’s claim of “I don’t have a problem with the good ones” was so typical of the SJW dogooder: “HOW COULD YOU DATE SOMEONE LIKE THAT?! OH MY GAWD, I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE THINK LIKE THAT IN (insert the current year)! Dude, I hope you really consider not seeing this person. Or if you do, at least tell her how big of a racist piece of shit she is, and THEN don’t see her again.”

Easy for you to say, toots. You may deliberately be trying to make yourself look as ugly as possible with the weird, unnatural hair colors and your nerd glasses and your preachy, off-putting attitude, but that hasn’t stopped you from having an army of guys lining up to date you.

Me? On a good day, I’m a 7.5 and can land a decent looking chick if I put a modicum of effort into it; in fact a second after I wrote the last sentence, I caught a cute Asian chick checking me out. HOWEVER, I don’t have it as easy as you. SO DON’T TRY TO TELL ME WHO I CAN AND CAN’T DATE, YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS BITCH.

But then it got me thinking; there IS a certain charm that comes from a girl who unashamedly makes statements like, “I don’t have a problem with the good ones” or asks questions like “are you Jewish?” I find that level of innocence and lack of ideological bias to be incredibly cute and refreshing. And honestly, do you really think, when someone says “I have no problem with the goods ones”, that he or she has any particular malice behind his or her words, or that he or she wish to do harm to the people who he or is talking about? If you answered “yes” to either of these questions, I highly suggest you seek treatment for your paranoia.

I remember reading an OKCupid profile where a girl insisted that no black men contact her. Horrible and racist, isn’t it? Well, I messaged her, and it turns out that she actually dated a black man for several years, and in the last year of their relationship, he beat the living shit out of her. I think, in her case, we can give her a pass. Her experiences with a black man, one who I’m assuming was more Tupac Shakur, than Sidney Poitier, has forever colored (no pun intended) her experience with the “black experience.” If you blame HER for her “racism”, YOU’RE a domestic violence apologist. She also complained that she only gets hit on by blacks. Sweetie, with an enormous – and dare I say, rather cute – bubble butt like that, what do you expect? I’ll be your knight in shiny Jewish armor, but you gotta stop with the country music. At least the modern kind.

But the bottom line is twofold. The first is that dates are SO MUCH MORE fun when they don’t turn into political debates. And the second is that, provided a woman hasn’t been brainwashed by the the Marxist propaganda in the media or the university she goes to, she is an ideological blank slate; the only strong opinions women hold are those that directly affect them and their little worlds. Isn’t the recent “red pilling” of longtime internet feminist Laci Green a perfect example of this? She spent years vituperating against “patriarchy” and “rape culture”, and then an anti-feminist man comes along and sweeps her off her feet, and now she’s no longer a feminist.

My tattoo artist and friend told me, “if a woman is into something really cool, thank her previous boyfriend.”

Geez, I’ll give women more credit than that. Thus far, at 33 years of age, I’ve dated, slept with and/or kinda fallen in love with a corrections officer, an oral hygienist, a World War II history major, a nerdy librarian, a tattoo artist, a school teacher, a restaurant cook, a bunch of women who I have no idea what they did/do, and two ex-strippers, one of whom has realistic looking fake boobs and does “fill-in puzzles” (hey, Jo!).

None of them EVER tried to police my language, and many surprised me with their rather course choice of words regarding various races and/or ethnic groups; Tasha, my super hot former manager at the Sunglass Hut, which I rudely quit without giving any notice, blatantly said that she doesn’t like Mexicans after someone (who you can assume is Mexican) tried to steal a pair of sunglasses. Just like that! Can you imagine what would have happened if I recorded what she said and reported it? When I was in college, my ex Melissa (the chick that fucked Dave “Oderus Urungus” Brockie of Gwar), printed up the lyrics to “Nasty Boy” by Notorious BIG, taped them to the door of her dorm room and posted “Celebrate Black history month” above it. Just in case you’re wondering, here are some of the lyrics:

Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Simone
Screamin, she fiendin for the semen
Me bein the man that I am
Took it to her condo pronto
Half Indian, I called her Tonto
Roll the chron’chron’ in the dark pronto
Few puffs, eyes got low
And off to the bedroom we go
Sex is drama, head is trauma
Ripped pajamas, I’ma stay ’til tomorrow
Satisfying all my needs twice
With whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
The bitch is nice, word is bond
Can’t wait to put my niggas on, what? What?

She was pretty funny.

Rap Metal Against Racism

limp_bizkit_antifaProbably the stupidest, yet longest lasting argument in the punk rock underground is whether a person can listen to a band in spite what they stand for. I remember getting chastised for professing my love for… ready for this… BAD BRAINS. One would think that being a fan of the Bad Brains, the all black punk band from Washington, D.C., would be the ultimate virtue signal, right?

Nope. As it turns out, the Bad Brains weren’t too fond of homos, and they weren’t quiet about it either. They attacked fellow hardcore bands like the Dicks, the Big Boys and Hüsker Dü for being “bloodclot faggots.” See, the Bad Brains adopted Rastafarian culture, and one thing the Rastafarians, much like the Muslims, can’t stand are “bloodclot faggots.” Now, does that matter to me personally? Of course not. I just like their music; super tight and fast hardcore punk with metal riffs and the occasional reggae jam thrown in. Most of the time I can’t even understand what they’re saying.

But I was yelled at for being one of those guys who “only cares about the music.” I’M NOT KIDDING. I was accused of not being righteous enough, of ONLY caring that I liked the music. You can probably assume that, for some of these people, listening to Skrewdriver is completely out of the question. I’ve talked about Skrewdriver before, but as a refresher, they were a 70s punk band that dressed like skinheads and released a couple of singles and one album of normal, generic, but still pretty catchy punk rock before their singer, Ian Stuart, continued to use the name with a whole new set of backing musicians and reinvented them as a white power band. And musically speaking, they’re okay.

Actually this type of thought policing has become pretty common in punk rock and other underground music genres; among other things, it has lead to bands being thrown off festivals and out of gigs for allegedly having “nefarious” views. “What? Your band was released by THAT label?” “You were seen hanging out with THAT guy?” “I KNOW what those symbols REALLY stand for, bucko! We’re hip to your game!”

Hey look! Here’s Wattie from the Exploited hanging out with what looks like a Nazi skinhead.

wattie_with_nazi_guy

But look at this! Here he is hanging out with a black guy wearing a Motörhead t-shirt!

wattie_with_black_guy

Well, fuck me sideways! Which one is it? Is he a Nazi, or is he not a Nazi? I don’t know, and I won’t ever again be able to listen to the Exploited until this issue is resolved.

Sadly, with such a low bar set on the quality of the music, and such a high bar set on “social justice”, the question I have for Antifas, punk rockers and other underground music weirdos is, “how SHITTY will you let your music get provided that the band shares your views?” Case in point, this brand spanking new video from a band called Stray From the Path. Go ahead, watch the video. I dare ya!

Not sure how far you got into video, but it’s not good. First, there’s the music. After a few bars of pick slides going up and down the guitar neck set to a funky drum beat, the singer, who (perhaps ironically) has a similar haircut to Milo Yiannopoulos and sounds like the singer from Rage Against the Machine, shouts “you just got knocked the fuck out!”; then a generic, overly-compressed, nu-metal riff plays behind his whiny, white boy rapping. Some of the phrases I could make out in the song include “fist held high”, “punishment fits the crime”, “racist President”, “it’s 2017”, “eye for an eye”, “that’s what he said”, “fuck him, and fuck you too”…

…did he just say, “we used to never let these dickheads have any control”? Which “dickheads” is he talking about? Is he implying that, back in the day, his righteous peeps, who don’t look like their older than 25, never let the Nazi skinheads have control of a venue?

Back up the train, negro. Since I was 14 years old, back in the late 90s, I started going to shows at Harpos in Detroit, where I saw Gwar (where my ex Melissa fucked Dave “Oderus Urungus” Brockie!), the Misfits (with Michale Graves, the place was packed!), the Dead Kennedys (with Brandon Cruz, only about 20 people showed up!), Danzig, Clutch, Corrosion of Conformity, Manowar, Motörhead, Cradle of Filth, Rotting Christ, Usurper, Six Feet Under, Murphy’s Law, Cannibal Corpse and even heavy metal’s number one homo ROB MOTHERFUCKING HALFORD. The place was known as a hangout for neo-Nazis, and I’ve even met a few. Someone told me a story where a bunch of Nazi skinheads started fights and pushed people around at G.B.H. and Napalm Death shows since both of those bands are openly anti-racist. At the Danzig gig, I saw a bunch of them doing Hitler salutes. Now, is chunky Milo implying in the video that he and his peeps would have taken a stand against these guys, many of whom are built like linebackers and either fresh out of or on the way to prison? I’m sure that would have worked out REALLY well.

…other choice passages from the song include “preach hate”, “what makes you think that you’re the superior race?!” and of course the very original “NAZI PUNKS FUCK OFF!!!”.

But secondly, and barring the fact that the band members don’t look too different from what many AltRighters look like, the video tells the story in which a guy in a MAGA hat goes into his home, where he has a Hitler poster and a bunch of swastikas on his wall and a TV playing clips of Richard Spencer at one of his “identitarian” conferences, and plan some sort of terrorist attack, only to have his plans foiled by “brave” anti-racist “activists”, who break into his home, mug him at gun point, beat him down, tie him up and tattoo a swastika onto his forehead.

I mean, I can’t even. Andy Nowicki and I disagree over which is the more important problem with the video; that it sets up a ridiculous straw man, saying it’s okay to beat up anybody who you perceive to be a Nazi, which Richard Spencer is most certainly not (they could have at least gotten it right and put Andrew Anglin on the TV) or that the song sucks ding dongs. I say the latter. As of this writing, the “Goodnight Alt-Right” video has received 16,301 dislikes (one of which is mine, thank ya very much!) and 2,960 likes. It’s not totally clear if most viewers of the video don’t agree with the message, just think the song blows or both. If you want a video with a stupid, “anti-Nazi” message that’s set to a good song by a good band, click here! At least the Off! video resembles a grindhouse flick and has Brian Posehn, Dave Foley and David Yow playing Nazis in it.

But the question I have for the Antifas, punks and underground music weirdos is: are you okay with rap metal just as long as they don’t do it just for the nookie?

 

What, No Thanks for the Narcissistic Supply?

lisa_langloisBefore you ask, “why are you wasting so much time writing about a person who you allegedly don’t care about?”, the reason is because my readers demand this kinda trashy stuff, and I don’t wanna disappoint ’em! You may now continue.

A former friend of mine is the stupidest, laziest and least creative narcissist I have ever known. Rather than channeling her attention whoring skills into getting a writing job at Slate, Salon or Buzzfeed or starting a youtube channel, where she could utilize her button-covered denim jacket and layers of cat-eye makeup to become the punk rock Laci Green or someone equally as annoying, she spends every waking (woke?) minute of her day on social media posting about how “outraged” she is at the “patriarchy” and “rape culture” and “manspreading” and “mansplaining” and all of the other goofy nonsense umpteenth-wave feminists invented so they could have something to feel righteous about. In fact, she’s so desperate for righteousness points, that she fails to realize that, in an effort to “raise awareness”, she causes all of the “sexist” and “racist” articles she posts to get more clicks, helping turn their authors into mini-celebrities. It’s through HER, that I first learned of Matt Forney, who I now consider a friend. So, thanks, Br(redacted).

I actually blocked this person along with everyone I used to be friends with that jumped aboard the leftist SJW bandwagon and considers Donald Trump to be Hitler/the Antichrist/etc. etc. etc. because having people like that on your Facebook friend list is a liability. You post something; that person comments on your post; you respond with anything that could be interpreted as “hate speech”; someone reports you; and you spend a month in Facebook jail, not being able to comment on people’s posts or respond to messages. You’re like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense; people wonder if you’re ignoring them, and you’re forced to start a second, third and forth FB account to keep in touch with them and peddle your wears. On top of that, leftists/liberals/SJWs have such thin skin, that you’ll get an angry mob that doesn’t have a clue about politics attacking you as a person, rather than trying to refute any of your well thought out points. Some of my favorite responses from these people are “kill yourself”, “delete your account” and “stop talking.” This all comes from people who consider themselves adults. Interacting with them is just not worth the hassle.

But apparently there isn’t much going on in Grand Rapids these days because the person that I’m talking about in this piece decided many years after we stopped talking to broadcast my current activities to her Facebook community by posting a recent Guardian article in which I’m quoted. I know it’s not exactly secret information, but how did she stumble upon it? Is she an avid reader of The Guardian? More importantly, why did she care enough to broadcast it to her little world? And EVEN MORE importantly, why did her little community feel the need to respond so passionately? One guy said I’m a white supremacist, and one guy said that I’m not rock ‘n’ roll (SLAM). It’s definitely flattering that so many people think of me years after I stopped living there and even more flattering that people feel so disgusted at the notion that I help David Cole organize events for people in Hollywood who hold “unpopular” views that could cause them to lose jobs in the film industry; I mean, GOD FORBID you talk about balancing the budget, shrinking the size of the federal government or supporting a more sensible, less debilitating immigration policy.

So, a week or two after I learned about this through a mutual friend, I sent the person on who this piece is based a little message in an attempt to advertise the Savage Hippie podcast to her friends, while also attempting to prove that she really IS that big of an attention whore.

Can you guess what she did?!

Now, GRANTED, my message wasn’t exactly charming, cute or clever. I told her how a “little birdie” told me that she was thinking about me and my activities, and I talked about the Savage Hippie podcast, mentioning both David and Ann and what they did, and for shits and giggles, I threw in this little story about our loyal listener, David McPheeters, who is going to be doing time for shooting someone in the back five times somewhere in Jacksonville, FL.

In response, she reported me to the Zuck, claiming that I threatened her. Neither David, nor Ann, nor anybody I asked perceived my message as threatening in any way. Creepy? Maybe. Unnecessary? Well, I mean, without it, I wouldn’t be able to write this piece for you, my lovely readers. The powers that be at Facebook didn’t think it was threatening either, otherwise I’d be in FB jail right now or at least would have gotten some sort of warning; she’ll probably chalk up my not getting thrown in FB jail to the “patriarchy” not taking the complaints of women seriously.

But was reporting me to Facebook enough for her? Take a lucky guess, cowboy.

She posted my private message on her Facebook wall, blasting it into the feeds of her two and a half thousand loyal followers; and hoo boy… there were calls for my death and my beat down and plenty of vitriol to go around for 150 or so comments/responses. One former friend suggested contacting my employer. Sorry, Sarah, but my “employer”, David Cole, wants to kill me more than you do. One person was the aging goth skank I wrote about in a different piece, who gives a mighty fine performance in bed, gives a blowjob to boot and got me beat up. She said she’d punch me herself this time; please do, but only after another blowjob and romp between the sheets. And one person even posted my phone number so people could text and harass me. Apparently their outrage wasn’t THAT sincere since I only received texts from two people; one of whom called me “a ignorant pig” (it’s “a ignint pig”, thank you very much!) and one who demanded I send a private apology. All while I was watching the Melvins! Can you believe the nerve of people trying to interrupt my Melvins concert experience?! I mean they were covering “Sacrifice” by Flipper! You don’t interrupt that.

But, let’s be honest here; rather than me send HER an apology, shouldn’t she send ME a thank you message? I mean, without me, she wouldn’t have gotten ALL of this attention from her Facebook followers, many of which are men ready to do her bidding. Especially now that she’s divorced, something she felt the need to broadcast to the whole world. I’m sure ALL of those guys coming to your aid are doing so just as “friends”, and want nothing in return… even if you were willing to give it to them.

So, I’m torn. Should I send a phony apology with this piece attached, have a mutual friend send it to her or hope that she stumbles upon it? In any of these cases, I certainly hope she sees it because I wouldn’t mind the Savage Hippie blog getting a few extra clicks.

Also, can someone ask the two Johns which band they like more: Big Star or the Raspberries. I’ve been mulling it over in my mind for the past week, and I was just wondering what they thought.

The Red Pill

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I’m truly thrilled that The Red Pill, the documentary from Cassie Jaye about her “journey” from being a feminist to not being a feminist via the Men’s Rights movement, has received an 8.7 on IMDB and a 90% on Rotten Tomatoes. Honestly, I am. It means people are opening their eyes and starting to listen to something other than the mainstream, “women is so oppressed” narrative.

But let’s be honest here; unless you’re an anorexic, nerdy sissy boy, who only hung out with kinda cute, glasses wearing hipster gurlz, the ones that LOVED being your friend, but made you wonder why YOU’RE always being friend-zoned in favor of guys with a fraction of your intelligence, and THEN made you feel GUILTY for complaining about it, there is nothing particularly groundbreaking about The Red Pill. The movie treats feminism as if it’s the main problem in our society, rather than one of the many weapons used by the cultural Marxist and globalist beast to try to destroy Western civilization; in fact, the notion that it could even BE a left/right, or rather globalist/anti-globalist issue, isn’t even touched upon. I’ve never considered myself a Men’s Rights activist. Many of the figureheads in the men’s movement don’t even see it as a left/right issue. I’ve actually known many “anti-feminist” men who don’t realize that feminism IS a form of leftism, and that supporting anyone on the left IS supporting the very ideology they say they’re against. Or to put it more succinctly, A Voice for Men editor Dean Esmay’s support for Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump in the 2016 election is tantamount to a civil rights leader in the 1960s supporting George Wallace.

There is a segment that lasts all of one minute – among 120 of them – that addresses how, in the 60s, the equality warriors switched their target from capitalism to patriarchy, but it’s so dinky, that one wonders why Jaye even bothered putting it in the movie in the first place.

But if we’re going to REALLY be addressing the elephants in the room, and if above all else, film is a visual medium, where the images are intended to elicit a reaction, it’s actually kind of infuriating watching shots of the cutie Cassie Jaye, who resembles a plumper, rounder Christina Applegate – don’t worry, Cassie, I wouldn’t make you lose 15 lbs. to have a seat on MY casting couch – interviewing pathetic looking, depressing old men, as they tell their stories about losing everything to a system that’s stacked against them.  I mean, JUST THE FACT that she’s IN the frame with them getting all misty eyed, listening to them talk about how they got royally screwed, while not addressing how incredibly privileged she is in our society by being blessed with hotness, struck me as painfully disingenuous. I mean, sheeyit, lady, you may be a narcissist, but do you have to make it that obvious? But who knows? Maybe this will lead to other women joining in an anti-feminist insurrection.

In The Red Pill, Jaye interviews key figures in the Men’s Rights movement; honestly the only ones I recognized were Paul Elam, Dean Esmay and Karen Straughan; I’m too lazy to look up the rest of ’em. One of them was a 60s male feminist, but changed tracks when he realized all that “freedom” women achieved by tossing off the “shackles” of their normal, middle class lives in favor of becoming spinsters and cat ladies didn’t provide the satisfaction they once imagined it would. But basically, we learn about all of the typical men’s rights talking points; women who trick men by not taking their birth control and enslaving them to a life of child support payments; men who see their coffers depleted in custody battles only to get to see their kids a couple hours a week; female on male spousal abuse not being taken seriously; male rape not being taken seriously; lighter prison sentences for women for the same crimes men committed; men working life threatening jobs to provide for their families only to be told they’re oppressing women; the male/female wage gap myth; and of course there’s a bit of male circumcision thrown in at the end for all the mondo fans. Don’t tell the Jews, though; they may get this movie shut down in your town (psst, I’m allowed to say that because I am one)!!!

We’re also given the counterpoints to these arguments from some harpy at Ms. magazine, some gay Jewish guy and of course the loud, shrill and obnoxious Big Red, who kinda resembles my former friend Sarah.

But another thing that bothered me about the movie is that it didn’t really address how feminism negatively affects women. Maybe Cassie Jaye hasn’t learned about hypergamy yet or that the only things feminism really accomplished was making it easier for men to get laid since it made women sluttier, while boosting the sales for antidepressants and keeping pet store owners in business. At VERY least, Jaye addresses that getting catcalled and having to look pretty (aww, poor baby) don’t really seem to be that big of problems in comparison with getting crushed to death in a coal mine avalanche, getting blown to bits on a battle field or having your life savings drained. And hey, in about 20 years, once the flesh starts to sag and wrinkles start to show, she won’t even HAVE to worry about getting catcalled.

A decade ago, when I was at Grand Valley State University, I picked up a book from the women’s center called Transforming a Rape Culture. At the time, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever seen, and most people balked at the suggestion that all men are rapists or predisposed to commit rape. Also, apparently it wasn’t considered “oppressive” to refer to slutty women as sluts; it was just honest. In fact, I LOVE sluts! They put out the quickest, and thanks to all that female empowerment, they’re not just damaged women with daddy issues! All of this was before Obama was even President. A lot has changed since then. Men can now put on dresses and call themselves women; women who get gang-banged by twenty dudes are considered “empowered”; men who ask women on dates can be accused of sexual assault; man, has society progressed! Thank you Cassie Jaye for setting the clock back about ten years.