Published on May 8th, 2013 in: Music, Waxing Nostalgic |
By Jeffery X Martin
Gather around, children. The following is a true story.
The year was 1983.
The most popular band in the world released the biggest album of their career. It was also, arguably, the worst album of their career. How they went from songs based on famous novels to bad poetry about dinosaurs is still beyond me. At the same time, a little metal band from Los Angeles was making waves by not only cranking out killer riffs, but by painting themselves as Satan-worshipping post-apocalyptic satyrs.
I was thirteen years old, a sweet church-going boy, and I had cleverly squirreled away enough money to purchase both of these albums on cassette. I was far too concerned about the coolness issue involved with these new additions to my musical collection. I had to have Synchronicity because everyone had it. I wanted Shout at the Devil because “Looks that Kill” was stuck in my head, slowly driving me mad.
This was the beginning of the Satanic Panic era. Heavy metal was coming under attack from concerned groups of parents for its sexual content. Religious groups were mortified by the licentiousness in the lyrics and perceived glorification of violence and sexual perversion. Ozzy and Judas Priest would end up going on trial. Frank Zappa would appear before a Senate committee, telling them to keep their white-gloved hands off our rock and roll. They were dark times for heavy music.
I was on the path to becoming a Christian minister.
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