BOBBY, YOUR DOUBLIN' IS DRIVING ME INSANE

The Cult's "Soul Asylum," the monster rock explosion of mega-thunder, jumped out to a healthy lead in the HooM! Bob Rock poll (under Jane under the table). But gaining fast is the Blue Murder igloo-incinerator "Sex Child" (above), John Sykes' paean to extremely underage sexual congress. The epic tune features the most memorable single musical phrase since Beethoven's fifth symphony: Yeah-yeah-ee-eh! Rock, like a fucking savante, correctly identified the Sykes bleat as a winner, and thus repeated it ad infinitum throughout "Sex Child"'s six minutes. Some times Yeah-yeah-ee-ehs call and respond to each other, overlap and echo, platoons ofpouty-lipped, frizzy blond manes proliferating like moss. Get 'em off me! Vote on the fucking poll then save yourself!

LOOK WHO'S SHIT-HAMMERED

I'm a letdown for random chicks cuz at first it seems like they've snared this dashing stud with awesome hair and a warm, non-judgmental Midwestern personality. Little do they know that my dud-filtering process includes a lengthy discussion of the themes of Blue Murder lyrics. Then, as she absently stirs her drink, I detail the sad, eternal curse of Anthrax singers as a compassion test. It's rigorous discourse, true, but a D is a passing grade if you read me. And anyway, her drink has usually been thrown in my face by mention of "Sex Child" while to others, slightly sexier non-versation is needed, so I playfully assert that the lives of Brad Pitt and myself are strikingly similar. At mention of BP, the contemporary female body has been socio-biologically calibrated to moisten itself, so I have a second before the imminent disbelief grips her. That second is used to hurriedly point out the exception: I'm toasted all the time. Well, now the bastard's obviously trying to surpass me on this modest count as well (above). It's bad enough he lamely used me as a basis for his character in True Romance. Get off my ballsack, Pitt!

JOEYTHRAX/BLUE MURDER/THE CROWN WORLD TOUR 2010

My beach therapy is ramping up lately to combat the toll of exhaustion from being a hopeful Metal fan this month. It takes a lot of energy to will into reality certain events and scenarios. First example is the departure from Thin Lizzy of guitarist/thunderpenis John Sykes, who, in accordance with my wishes, will soon embark on a monster Blue Murder reunion tour; and not that non-union Mexican equivalent (Marco Mendoza/Tommy O'Steen) I mean the real shit with farty bassist Tony Franklin and 110-year old drummer Carmine Appice and it would culminate in a 14-night stand at historic L.A. venue Anso's Pants.

So on top of that, I'm half-assedly begging the cosmos to mandate a Joey Belladonna-fronted Anthrax in 2009. The great Thrash bands all are returning to their Thrash line-ups; Thrash is real and Joey is the man for this job. Time is short, Nonthrax. But HooM! priorities are shifting from so very old Blue Murder and lost cause Anthrax to Dobermann, the new band that's the Crown with non-Johan Lindstrom singer Andreas Bergh. Oh wait not anymore. From Blabbermouth:

Dobermann recently parted with Bergh and has already enlisted an as-yet-undisclosed replacement singer and is currently recording a collection of tunes which are being described as pure death/thrash metal.

Ok not to be a stickler but it's impossible to be pure death/thrash metal since the two styles are distinct so combining them results by definition in a mixture. Pure thrash or pure death: sure. Shit that's not important but anyway, if the as-yet-undisclosed replacement singer were Lindstrom, therefore effecting a Crown reunion by proxy, would they refer to him in those terms? But it's possible; after all, this is the first year in a while his band One Man Army & The Band Name Is Too Long didn't do a record (though reportedly an untitled fourth album is slated for 2010 release). I'm exhausted with all this psychic hoping. Since Obama and Faith No More, it seems like anything's possible.

IT"S MOTHERFUCKING BLUE MURDER TIME

A quiet item on Blabbermouth Wednesday morning announced the departure of ex-Whitesnake guitarist John Sykes from Thin Lizzy. While rational people wouldn't deign to register the information, for Blue Murder fans it sets off alarm bells and flashing lights. Last Fall, Sykes shot down an agitating Carmen Appice, BM's mustachioed skinsman, who pledged a BM tour in a 2006 interview. But as a wingnut who counts the summer of Blue Murder discovery as a major turning point in my life, it's my sonofabitching right to just ya know choose to believe in a coming string of reunion shows before Appice's body stops moving cuz he's like 70. My mindpower worked on Faith No More and Cave In. Everybody should follow my example and that of a smattering of Bmouth commenters. It's just like religious people who submit to begging on their knees, then claim divine favor when their wishes are accidentally fulfilled. You're welcome, Faith No More fans! I did that shit! Now Blue Murder super happy let's go!

JOHN SYKES IS THE BEST. AND THE WORST.

Everybody knows John Sykes is the brains behind Whitesnake's 1987 self-titled record and the preposterous/awesome Blue Murder debut. But apparently the brains behind John Sykes is Spinal Tap's Nigel Tufnel, whom Sykes recalls with disturbing ease during a solo onstage in 1984 (above) replete with sudden stops, telltale wind-ups, and aimless, tuneless wanking. Somebody in the crowd should've tossed him a violin. 

WHY MUST JOHN SYKES SMASH MY DREAMS?

Back when Skid Row was touring for their debut album, this record store announced a meet-and-greet with the then-awesome New Jersey quintet. Earlier that year, I amazed myself by phoning in to the proto-TRL countdown show Dial MTV to request the Skids' first single "Youth Gone Wild" only to have my call selected for the on-air intro. All those pussies were like "This is Missy from Tulsa and I wanna hear Bobby Brown's 'On Our Own' from Ghostbusters II. I love you, Danny!" Nah, my shit was Metal. 

But anyway: After a lot of arm-twisting, a deal was brokered in which the family car would detour to the record store for '10 minutes maximum' so I could gawk at Rachel Bolan's complicated face jewelry in person. Of course, we didn't leave on time so I was already sweating when I got through the door to find that the signing was now happening at the bigger store on the south side. "How in the planet of fuck was I supposed to know that??" I bellowed, searching the faces of the Toto-loving dingleberries on staff. If memory serves, at least four hands shoved me out the front door. My arsenal at that age was largely loogie-based, a weapon easily thwarted by doors. Big disappointment. 

That ugly scene nearly vanished from my mind until Blue Murder's John Sykes trashed my goddamn dreams today. See, a couple years ago, drummer Carmine Appice intimated that some reunion shows were on the event horizon for the mega-trio, authors of history's most awesomely bombastic hair rock album. Well, we can forget about that shit, as Sykes explains to Metal-Rules:

You know, I always get offers to do Blue Murder again; I was asked to do Sweden Rock and Arrow Rock Festival with Blue Murder this year.

Two years ago Carmine Appice told us there were plans for Blue Murder to do a tour in Japan, with [original bassist] Tony Franklin. What happened?

Well, it's not his decision. Carmine does a lot of talking, but it's not his band so it doesn't matter. He's part of the band, but with Blue Murder I was the only guy signed to the contract; it was my band. I picked those guys to play in my band, but Carmine always talks like it's his band and that's why we never get together because he's too much of a pain in the ass.

Still, if anything was ever going to be happen with Blue Murder again, would it be with you, Carmine and Tony?

I think it should be Tony and Carmine. But you know, maybe I'll use Simon Phillips and somebody else on bass. It'd be easier and it'd still be great, but again people wanna see original players. [laughs]

You dick, John. There have already been offers?!!?? What the hell are you waiting for?? An apology from David Coverdale? And by the way, I've heard your off-brand version of Blue Murder live and I don't mind telling you that it sounds like two flabby old people attempting The Boston Brute. Everybody knows Blue Murder is your shit, so stop puffing out your chest with these threats and play some fucking shows, cockface. It's not like you're busy with something awesome. Oh yeah, you're in ahem "Thin Lizzy."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN SYKES

2004 was a big summer for me, but no event stands out as much as a seemingly innocent yard party at my rotten attorney's lakehouse. As a rich fuck, he has lots of shit; as a great guy, he often unloads old records on me and buys drinks. Away from the party, in the cool quiet of his living room, I came across Blue Murder's self-titled debut. Shaking me by the shoulders, he implored me to take the record and play the shit out of it. With a laugh, I agreed to.  

Well here we are in 2008 and conservative estimates indicate no fewer than 400 spins of Blue Murder's 1989 triumph at HooM! HQ. Produced by Bob Rock at the height of his monster-rock powers*, Blue Murder's nine songs include seven (!!) home runs -- and among those two grand slams off the scoreboard -- powered by John Sykes' fluid, UK-style shredding, the farty bass of Tony Franklin (femmullet alert), and drums so enormous they have their own congressman (courtesy of Carmine Motherfucking Appice). Like Rock, Sykes was fresh off a big win (Whitesnake's mega-success) but also a big loss (his unceremonious firing at the hands of David Coverdale); regardless, an emboldened Sykes turns in awesome vocal performances to match his thunderous songs and ass-tight backing band. Thanks, John. Happy 49th birthday buddy (yesterday). We love you.

BLUE MURDER

Sex Child

Geffen Records 1989

*Rock had just completed The Cult's colossal Sonic Temple; following Blue Murder, Rock commenced work on Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood. His last great production was David Lee Roth's A Little Ain't Enough in 1991 before the whole Shitallica thing.

Why? Why!? WHY???!!!: Midnight Tolls For Cinderella; Carmine Appice Gets 'Stomp'ed; Judass Priest Double-Penetrates Your Wallet, Patience

It's Disappointment Week here at Hipsters Out Of Metal! A quick recap of what we're coming to grips with:

*Unable to secure financial backing, HooM! forgoes Iron Maiden concert. Not just Maiden, but the Maiden we all fell in love with: The Somewhere Back In Time tour 2008 saw the band drawing almost exclusively from their middle and best era, transporting fans through time to glorious, fugly 1988. 

*Independent efforts failed Tuesday to time travel to glorious, fugly 1988, where I would've caught a Maiden show, kicked the nuts of approx. 70 classmates, placed some sports bets, and put a giant padlock on my 2008 girlfriend's hoo ha.

*Everybody hates Katherine Heigl. Bullshit! That doctor show blows, but Knocked Up knocked me up and fucked my socks off. My dream of impregnating and enslaving an E! anchor -- right there on the screen! So, lay off the dumb bitch already. Sure, she can't go five minutes without running her stupid mouth, but who can? That just means she should be our leader! 

And, alas, the Disappointment gods are generous this week:

Hair rockers Cinderella postpone their summer tour after singer/guitarist Tom Kiefer is diagnosed with "a hemorrhaging vocal cord." I'm not surprised; judging from his voice, Kiefer's been storing a live aardvark in his throat since Jersey. 

Drummer Carmen Appice is impossible not to love. He's the gay pirate Muppet in Ozzy Osbourne's "Bark At The Moon" video (above), reprising the role years later with the mighty Blue Murder. So, naturally, the ex-Vanilla Fudge (gross) drummer has combined his love of Stomp, Slipknot, and the squandering of petroleum in this new clip for NASCAR's ... whatever. 

Speaking of gay pirates, the new Judass Priest double album landed with a thud this week, to everyone's half-surprise. The silver lining is the imminent release of the band's new book, How To Ensure Your Album Fails. From the back cover:

Are you too successful? Tired of people chanting your name? Want to shed all those pesky fans? 

Famous rockers JUDASS PRIEST show you how:

1. Overprice your album. It'll be harder to enjoy.

2. Pack your album with songs. Any song.

3. Exhaust listeners with uncooperative, purely non-exhilarating concepts. Eg., the invention of the cotton gin. 

Coming soon to the Business section of your favorite bookstore.