TAKE MY HEART AND SET IT FREE

It was at Tower Records in Ikebukuro a few years ago when I was confronted with yet another auxiliary Iron Maiden record on sale. (I spelled auxiliary right on the first try worrrd!) Skeptical, I stepped to the listening station, slipped on headphones, and shared a look of disbelief with my neighbor (who graciously allowed me to interrupt his preview of um Impellitteri) during the intro to song two, where singer Bruce Dickinson absolutely goes off. Which prompts unchained cacophony from the 500 trillion-strong Rio crowd and pure Metal fury from the band. Incidentally, that very listening station introduced me to (disc #6 all the way on the end) Soilwork's Devy-produced Natural Born Chaos and to my shame, I wasn't paying attention at all. That's Bruce Power. Vote over there fuckerz.

THE SPRUCE BRUCE

I'm not sure how it's possible but my 100% not-literal love affair with Iron Maiden singer Bruce Dickinson has actually intensified over the last decade. By the time of Fear Of The Dark, I had logged about 60K listening hours on Somewhere In Time and Seventh Son of a Seventh Son. To that you can add roughly 14 weeks each on Beast, Piece; let's agree that a season could approach and pass in the time I've spent rocking either No Prayer and Powerslave. My last semester at college is a blur of Chemical Wedding and Accident of Birth (not Accident At Birth, Brian); and then there's Skunkworks (3.5), which broke the record set by A Lil' Ain't Enough (3) for consecutive months in my shower stereo. A dude could lose an entire morning to just "Innerspace" and "Strange Death In Paradise" continuously.

Anyway even since all that, Bruce has rejoined Maiden for a classic and a two solids, has become a freaking jetliner captain who flies his goddamn fucking tour to and from "the asshole(s) of the world," and has still not once been a douche about anything, especially his own deafening awesomeness. Now sure, I don't really get his sensibilities in film and the written word. But I just figure that's cuz he's British and everything. Sorry the point is Bruce is tops and his breathtaking performances just with Maiden are pretty much innumerable. Plus, each Bruce highlight presses a different button, from dread ("Hallowed Be Thy Name") to pre-hysteria ("Public Enema #1") to bona fide wistfulness ("Wasted Years" thank you Adrian Smith) and so on. He's pretty much the best at the pleading, theatrically persecuted outcast ("The Prisoner," "Powerslave," "The Prophecy" vote for that shit over there). He sings about like relationships and shit on Skunkworks and it doesn't sound weird at all. I also love that he has worn a different outfit each tour. And nobody said SHIT when he covered -- and singled -- Bowie's "All The Young Dudes" which isn't actually as faggy as the title implies but still. Actually I'm a chick dude but if he asked me, I would let him take pictures of my butt. Sorry mom but there it is.

I'M GOING TO KICK SHOSBOURNE IN THE BALLS

OK well this officially means war, Sharon Osbourne. Here I am, suffering through all your hypocritical, pretentious bullshit on Rock of Love: Charm School (hey it's reality TV - bullshit is part of the deal). After a seeming eternity in the parallel dimension known as Heather, we finally get a brief but bonery trip to MegansVille last night thanks to the series' ratings-milking clip show. Even better, the peek at next week's finale of ROL:CS indicates that fan favorites Megan Hauserman (above, left) and um bosom buddy Brandi C. will appear alongside the remaining three arguebots who hope to win $100,000 and the title of most-deskanked rock tramp, as judged by Sharon Osbourne, the filthy-mouthed nobody whose father bequeathed her Ozzy. She mated with the oblivious rocker, then sold their troll-like spawn to MTV. I could go on but the point is that Shosbourne and I were only a hair's breadth away from open warfare before yesterday. And then yesterday came and with it the taping of ROL:CS's reunion show. TMZ reports:

Hauserman claims Osbourne went ballistic during a taping of the show's reunion special Saturday night and accuses Osbourne of running across the stage, grabbing her by the hair and refusing to let go. According to Hauserman, Osbourne continued to pull and scratch until security eventually separated the two. Megan went to the hospital Sunday afternoon and filed a report with the LAPD (video) on Sunday night. According to Megan, the whole thing started after Osbourne took a verbal shot at her, and the Charm School contestant responded by saying that Sharon is only famous for "managing a brain dead rock star." And then all hell broke loose. The LAPD says Sharon is a suspect in a minor battery. No charges have been filed.

Calls to VH1 and Sharon's management company were not returned.

How very ahem charming and ladylike of you, Sharon. Much like when Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden refused to deal with your powerdyke bullshit and in retaliation, your punk-ass egged his band. You raging cunt. This will not stand, man. This unchecked aggression will not stand, man. Your husband goes out and makes you money all over town and then you come and attack Megan? Eat a bag of dicks, you stupid slag.

ZIP IT TESTAMENT, STONE SOUR YOU TOO

Ugh this is tiresome but Testament is the latest Thrash band to irritate their fans (me) by slamming one of their own records. Singer Chuck Billy tells Terrorizer:

[1992's The Ritual] was actually written a lot heavier and thrashier, and at that time, Alex [Skolnick, guitar] was on tour with [goofy bassist] Stu Hamm doing some other gigs and coming back to listen to the songs we wrote. He was like, 'I'm not playing over the thrash parts! We need to slow it down and get some straight-ahead beats.' And when it did that, vocally, for me, it made it kind of boring because it's just one straight path, and it really slowed everything down and broke up the dynamics we created originally.

OK, I get it; you guys are humiliated about relinquishing creative control to Atlantic Records and your snooty lead guitarist. But every motherfucking song on The Ritual rips, propelling the unadventurous album atop the teeny pile of brilliant melodic hard rock records. These albums are elusive and originate from dubious sources: Take Lacuna Coil's Karmacode, a frustratingly riffless Korncore record with every snappy melodic (and harmonic) twist and turn in the book. And even though it's marred by dated, bubbly production, Karmacode slays, bront to fack. And of course the little-loved yet dud-free Skunkworks album (Iron Maiden singer Bruce Dickinson's foray into hooky rock). Monster finale on that bitch.

The HooM! search for more classics like these was rekindled thanks to last week's discussion on MetalSucks about Stone Sour and Shinedown. Loudly endorsed by MS commenters and Anthrax's Scott Ian, Stone Sour's Come What(ever) May found its way into my stereo but It only took three songs for my hopes to be dashed: CW(e)M starts strong with sing-along hard rock but sags under the foul mainstream production and too fucking much Corey Taylor dumbness. Shut up, sir. It's reminiscent of my first experience with 'La Vida Loca': dancing around with my toothbrush at first chorus, then fucking sick of it by fade out. Keep your eyes peeled in 2021 for Taylor and crew's apology. 

Shinedown, you're up. Don't disappoint me.