Hair Metal Heaven
I went to a Poison concert this week. And I'm not embarrassed to admit it.
Okay, okay - that's not true. I went to a Poison concert and I am actually deeply ashamed to admit it. But that doesn't mean I didn't love the show.
First, from a purely sociological point of view, it was fascinating to watch the crowd - aging rockers in faded jeans and concert tees from '80s perennials like G n' R, Metallica and Motley Crue (the official runner-up to Poison in the fan-dedication-as-measured-by-t-shirts sweepstakes). And just like all the hair-metal concerts I attended in my early teens, there were lots of rocker chicks in teased hair, heavy make-up, short leather skirts and stillettos. Only now, these chicks are pushing their mid-forties. Sagging tattoos are actually a pretty scary sight. Anyway, Carrie and I spent as much time checking the crowd as we did Bret Michaels and crew.
The band put on a fast and fun show, part of their 20th anniversary tour (egad) - Bret looked much less puffy than he did a few years ago, so I'm assuming the hardcore recreational pharmaceuticals are behind him. Guitarist CC Deville, best known these days for his appearance on The Surreal Life, seemed genuinely pleased to be on stage again. They pretty much rocked - at least as much as they ever did.
I know that in the post-Nirvana era we're all supposed to look on hair metal with disdain. The artifice, the make-up, the spandex, the pyrotechnics, the amps that go to 11- all were supposed to have shown us how ridiculous and pointless the hair bands were. And they were. But what the hell - they wrote some seriously catchy tunes and they never rhymed libido and mosquito ad nausem.
Okay, okay - that's not true. I went to a Poison concert and I am actually deeply ashamed to admit it. But that doesn't mean I didn't love the show.
First, from a purely sociological point of view, it was fascinating to watch the crowd - aging rockers in faded jeans and concert tees from '80s perennials like G n' R, Metallica and Motley Crue (the official runner-up to Poison in the fan-dedication-as-measured-by-t-shirts sweepstakes). And just like all the hair-metal concerts I attended in my early teens, there were lots of rocker chicks in teased hair, heavy make-up, short leather skirts and stillettos. Only now, these chicks are pushing their mid-forties. Sagging tattoos are actually a pretty scary sight. Anyway, Carrie and I spent as much time checking the crowd as we did Bret Michaels and crew.
The band put on a fast and fun show, part of their 20th anniversary tour (egad) - Bret looked much less puffy than he did a few years ago, so I'm assuming the hardcore recreational pharmaceuticals are behind him. Guitarist CC Deville, best known these days for his appearance on The Surreal Life, seemed genuinely pleased to be on stage again. They pretty much rocked - at least as much as they ever did.
I know that in the post-Nirvana era we're all supposed to look on hair metal with disdain. The artifice, the make-up, the spandex, the pyrotechnics, the amps that go to 11- all were supposed to have shown us how ridiculous and pointless the hair bands were. And they were. But what the hell - they wrote some seriously catchy tunes and they never rhymed libido and mosquito ad nausem.
posted by Jen @ 12:44 p.m.
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