CATS AND DOGS LIVING TOGETHER MASS HYSTERIA

It seems that the rumors are true that Dokken has set two California dates with Lynch Mob, a superior band led by former Dokken axeman/musclehead George Lynch. Ok this is pretty much what my world is about: These two primping egomaniacs, equally threatened by the band's inexcusable back catalogue, have been warring for years. At least it seems that way though Dokken-Lynch relations haven't dominated my attention lo these two decades. But anyway, like the Poison-Def Lep beef brought to the stage, the smaller but more venomous Don-George conflict promises to be infinitely more uncomfortable. It seems likely that Don will object when George inevitably gets in his shot, or is perceived to have done so. George clearly plans to join the band onstage, which always makes the surviving members feel stepped on. Plus, peripheral cast like Mick Brown may feel inadequate since Lynch Mob is responsible for at least one awesome record while Dokken is for chicks. Mostly deaf chicks. What's next? A Blue Murder/Whitesnake tour?

GREAT NOW I LIKE EUROPE

This week started off with a lapse in judgement that lead to a lunch of marked-down tamales from Ralphs. Obviously, the rest of my Monday was spent reading Decibel back issues in my surf-themed bathroom but Tuesday was no improvement. On that day came the sad realization that ugh I like a song by fucking Europe. Which is an admission equal in my family to oh say hidden hermaphroditism or plans to join Machine Head. How did it comes to this?

Well, it's stupid AOL Radio's fault. Their hair rock station rotates only one or two songs by each band, and that's great for bands like L.A. Guns who only have a pair of good songs (no not "The Ballad of Jayne"). Oddly, the exceptions are Ratt, Dokken, or Cinderella, three bands who all license like 40 songs. So this creates a situation where the listener, presumably captive at work, is fucking relieved to hear anything else. For example, "Valley of the Kings" by Blue Murder (yes!) or Europe's "Rock The Night" for which there is no excuse but hey here we are. It's one of those rock songs about rock songs and the appreciation thereof -- and it's by Europe, poof rock's most hatable white-teeth enthusiasts. That means it's as bad musically as it is lyrically, but what started as trying to place its faint resemblance to some other song (it still hasn't come to me), then morphed into toe-tapping and a couple "Whoa-oh"s. As of this week it's official I like it. And therefore I'm pretty much kicked out of my family.

DON'T YOU FUCKIN' DARE TO UNCHAIN THE NIGHT, YOU SON OF A BITCH

I was thinking about Dokken today (yesssss I was watching Nightmare on Elm Street 3) and hey did anyone else think at first that they were European? If you had any awareness of the scene and George Lynch's rep back then, you'd know otherwise. But if say you grew up in the indifferent suburbs of the nation's box spring, L.A. might as well have been fucking Laos. So anyway, the first hint was their bizarre name, which seemed to belong to a German coffeemaker or golf clubs used by Japanese businessmen. It turned out to be the pouty one's last name. Then you have the brooding, minor key rockers and dignity-free histrionics that would embarrass Coverdale, each song treating infidelity and heartbreak like pending nuclear holocaust. Oh oh and the bad metaphors, with which Don warns against unchaining the night and the perils of a "Heartless Heart" whatever that shit means. Anyway it says here that in the band Dokken's pre-natal stages, Don guested on a Scorpions album (shudder) and through an acquaintance with Accept landed a record deal in Europe. So there you have it. This was supposed to be about Slayer. Sorry bout that but Dokken is hilarious.

SNOT LOVE

HooM! can be pretty negative but it belies my intrinsically hopeful interior. For egg-sandwich, no one I know has ever found a reason to like Dokken, and I mean not a soul not even the mega-heshers a few grades older than us who were freakin Laaz Rocket fans for the love of Geoff. But with awful bands there's a point where I become able to suppress my symbolic vomit, and that's when I set about trying to find something -- song, album cover, guitar solo, haircut, hot girl who likes them -- anything good about them. Especially with major label bands, cuz goddammit like a half-dozen people are paid to make the songs good even if sung by a breathy, whiny, sub-Coverdale drama queen (with great comic timing). Seriously. According to the laws of probability, even bands who set the global standard for gay-ass breakup songs will stumble into a snappy single. Especially in your best-loved genre.

My Dokken quest came to an end during Dee Snider's House Of Hair back iiiiin um 2005 when I first laid ears on "It's Not LOVE!" which rips despite the usual Don Dokken cornball despair. That song opened the door for another awesome/faggy song "Burning Like A Flame" but then you have stuff like "Paris Is Flaming" and "In My Jeans." Ear-barfingest harmonies ever.

LYNCH MOB N*GGAZ ARE THE CRAZIEST

A small point of pride is my early discovery of extremely profane hip hop. A major point of shame is that responsibility for my pre-teen N.W.A worship was an issue of proto-hipster magazine Option. If memory serves, R.E.M. frontman Michael Stipe graced its cover, but inside was a surprisingly lengthy feature on the most dangerous non-Slayer band in America. Soon after eye-raping the article and deciding to dedicate my life to discomfiting squares to a similar extent as N.W.A, I marched to the record store where I passed over dozens of Metal tapes to purchase Ice Cube's debut solo album Amerikka's Most Wanted. In 1990 it was kosher for a recent 13-year old to plunk down $12 for an hour of R-rated sociopathic/-political rap. Good times.

It is weird, though, that throughout the record Cube namedrops George Lynch's post-Dokken band like a billion times. I was expecting him to turn up on Lynch Mob's debut record that same year, but no dice. Just tons of kick-ass hard rock. But on that same note, back when Rocklahoma was announced there was a shit ton of Lynch Mob talk coming from Lynch -- singer Oni Logan's return, a proper sequel to the aforementioned record, blah blah blah. Boner City, right? But what followed was months of Lynch's other project (with a guy from Brides of Destruction), a cancelled tour with Cinderfella, and a trek with Paul Gilbert (yay!) and Richie Kotzen (nay). Well, fucking finally Lynch Mob is ready to party and the record's done and good gravy Lynch is threatening to tour with Dokken here somebody else wrote this already. Lynch to someone:

I'm talking a little preemptively here, but one of the things on the table is a potential Dokken-Lynch Mob tour — kind of like that WWF spectacle where you come out with all that history and get people talking, and that's always good. And we'll play some Dokken songs as well in our set. And they're welcome to play some Lynch Mob songs, but that's not gonna happen... I'm kidding.

Uh Lynch has every right to be a douche, but really he thinks Don Dokken is going to allow this? Joining Dokken on stage? Playing Dokken songs immediately prior to Dokken's set? Oni Logan whaling on his cheeseball antics? That will neverrrr happen! Or maybe Lynch is joking. He's joking. Yeah. That's it.

DON'T STOP BEREAVIN'

File this in the Duh folder but man the resusitation of rank '70s novelty Alvin & The Chipmunks must be the work of a powerfully cynical bastard. Sure, artful children's programmers like Jim Henson could engage and stimulate young people, the motherfucker would say, but is it not equally important to release collections of pop songs helium-screeched by computer-generated rodents? And in the interest of blitzing the logic circuits of any present adults, let's tweak any potentially suggestive lyrics to maximize impact of the A&TC brand. Ref. the Chipmunked version of Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'," which replaces 

A singer in a smokey room

The smell of wine and cheap perfume

For a smile they will share the night

It goes on and on and on and on

with

A singer in a cloudy room

The smell of fur and cheap cartoons

For a smile they will watch our show

It goes on and on and on and on

OK in the name of everything holy it's disturbing enough to imagine the prelude to a christfucking CHIPMUNK ONE-NIGHT STAND without considering the smell of fur. And what the goddamn fuck is a cloudy room? 

When I eventually dynamite the screwfucks responsible, I'll include on that list the movie theater whose pre-show sound system planted that shitty unmusic -- along with a medley of Seal channeling his inner Chipmunk on an unnecessary covers project of his own -- into my brain where it would fester throughout the entirety of My Bloody Valentine 3D. Which was awesomely dumb but fatally flawed in that star Jaime King (above, surprise!) was wardrobed in loose flannel and flat, brown hair. That's even more wrong than Alvin & The Chipmunks! That's like listening to Dokken's "Burning Like A Flame" (below) but not dancing around while singing into a hairbrush. Seriously fuck the world.