Fourth of Hell

There will be no Tuesday Top Ten this week, as I have been tending to a sick kid and a wife with a case of the vapors. I have nothing of interest to tell you, other than that Sunday night I drank Nightrain for the first time -- while listening to "Nightrain." It was a watershed moment. Speaking of which, be sure to vote on whether you think Appetite for Destruction or Nevermind is a better album. The poll is on the sidebar. There is only one day left to vote. Don't go the rest of your life wishing you had voted in what will one day be remembered as the most important poll of the 21st Century.

Hair Band Friday - 7/1/11

New Poll: Appetite for Destruction vs. Nevermind

vs.

It's been a while since I've had a poll, so why not make it a good one?

I just started re-reading Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman, and he has a good discussion of Guns N' Roses, which includes a comparison to Nirvana, as well as a brief comparison of Appetite for Destruction and Nevermind.

Twenty years ago, Nirvana was recording their seminal album Nevermind at Sound City Studios in Van Nuys, California, where Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers recorded Damn the Torpedoes, Neil Young recorded After the Gold Rush, Fleetwood Mac recorded Rumors, and, most importantly, Dio recorded Holy Diver.

Nevermind would be released a few months later, in September 1991, and soon there was a great debate amongst rock fans: hair bands and heavy metal vs. grunge. I remember not really knowing that I was supposed to choose a side until my buddy The Weez told me that it was my moral imperative to do so. Of course, when given the choice, I chose (and still choose) hair bands and metal.

As a result of these very clear dividing lines, as I imagine was the case with a lot of people, it took me a few years before I was comfortable with grunge and "alternative" rock, when I realized that it is possible to like both sides without exploding.

As far as I'm concerned, the two most important hard rock albums of my generation are Nevermind and Appetite for Destruction. I'm guessing if you asked a music critic which they thought was a better album, most would probably say Nevermind because, for some reason, people are more comfortable lionizing a suicidal heroin addict than an asshole. At home, though, I bet they blast Appetite when they want to rock out. As for you, my fair readers, I'm not sure. I know many of you, and I know that you (at least outwardly) prefer GNR over Nirvana.

Nirvana made one monumental album and two average albums. Guns N' Roses made one monumental album, two really good albums, and The Spaghetti Incident? (I'm leaving Chinese Democracy out of the equation.)

I'm not sure exactly why it's somehow more acceptable to like Nevermind than Appetite (or at least to openly show appreciation for Nevermind rather than Appetite). I'd imagine some people might say that Nevermind is more "real," which is wrong. "A mulatto / An albino / A mosquito / My libido"? That's gibberish. I've never owned a bird, so I have no frame of reference for "Polly." And I've tried, but I simply cannot relate to "Territorial Pissings."

On the other hand, the songs on Appetite ARE real because they are generally written from experience. "Welcome to the Jungle" is about moving to a big city. "Mr. Brownstone" is about the debilitating effects of heroin addiction (as experienced by Slash and Izzy). "Nightrain" is about drinking Nightrain. "My Michelle" is about a chick named Michelle whose mother died of a heroin and whose daddy worked in porno.

So if reality favors Appetite, what can it be about Nevermind that still makes critics drool? There's something pseudo-intellectually appealing to Nevermind, perhaps because it's dark and brooding, which stands in stark contrast to most of the hair band music that was popular when Nevermind was released. Appetite is kick-'em-in-the-teeth party music.

Both albums are phenomenal, and I like both albums, so don't take this post as some sort of indictment against Nevermind. Both albums have a punk attitude. Musically, both albums are excellent, although I'd give GNR the nod on musicianship. Both albums have iconic album covers. Both albums were (and continue to be) hugely successful. Appetite has sold 18 million copies in the U.S. and 28 million copies worldwide, while Nevermind has sold 11 million copies in the U.S. and 26 million worldwide. There's not a bad song on Appetite, although there are a couple songs on Nevermind that could be considered average.

By coincidence (or so I assume), both albums have 12 songs, which allows for a song-by-song comparison. In case you are unfamiliar with two of the most important albums of the last 25 years, the songs from Appetite for Destruction are listed first.

1. "Welcome to the Jungle" vs. "Smells Like Teen Spirit"
Edge: Even
These are both anthems that top or come close to topping many lists.

2. "It's So Easy" vs. "In Bloom"
Edge: "In Bloom"
This one was tough because they're both great songs, but the edge goes to "In Bloom." It's a little less rapey than "It's So Easy."

3. "Nightrain" vs. "Come as You Are"
Edge: Even
Nirvana sympathizers might be saying, "Dude, no way," after they sip their coffee and take a drag from their American Spirit. GNR sympathizers might be saying "Fuck you, GMYH," after they take a slug of Nightrain and a drag from their Camel. You're both right. "Come As You Are" is great, but overrated. "Nightrain" is underrated, but not better than "Come As You Are."

4. "Out Ta Get Me" vs. "Breed"
Edge: "Breed"
"Breed" is my favorite Nirvana song.

5. "Mr. Brownstone" vs. "Lithium"
Edge: Even
They're both about drugs. "Lithium" is probably my second-favorite Nirvana song after "Breed." "Mr. Brownstone" is in my top 5 for GNR songs.

6. "Paradise City" vs. "Polly"
Edge: "Paradise City"
No contest.

7. "My Michelle" vs. "Territorial Pissings"
Edge: "My Michelle"
I really like "Territorial Pissings," despite the fact that I was never an alien. But "My Michelle" has more grit and more balls than any song on Nevermind.

8. "Think About You" vs. "Drain You"
Edge: Even
This was another close call. I like both songs. I was leaning towards "Drain You," but then I listened to "Think About You," and I can't say that I like one song more than the other.

9. "Sweet Child O' Mine" vs. "Lounge Act"
Edge: "Sweet Child O' Mine"
"Lounge Act" is a very underrated song, but I sure as shit don't remember exactly where I was the first time I heard it.

10. "You're Crazy" vs. "Stay Away"
Edge: Even
Both of these songs are hyper and full of angst, with "You're Crazy" aimed at a crazy woman and "Stay Away" apparently aimed at cool monkeys.

11. "Anything Goes" vs. "On a Plain"
Edge: "Anything Goes"
"On a Plain" is a good song, and this was a tough call. I was going to put this as "even," but then I listened to both songs. "Anything Goes" just has more gusto.

12. "Rocket Queen" vs. "Something in the Way"
Edge: "Rocket Queen"
"Rocket Queen" was, is, and always will be my favorite GNR song, and it would be impossible for me to ever like a Nirvana song more than "Rocket Queen," much less the worst song on Nevermind.

Final Tally: 5-2-5 in favor of Appetite for Destruction.

With that, fair readers, I ask you the following question: Which do you think is a better album, Appetite for Destruction or Nevermind? You have one week. Go! (And, of course, I would love to hear your thoughts, comments, or hate-filled rants.)

Shit I Hate: People Who Don't Brush Their Teeth in the Morning and Ride Public Transportation

I don't have time or plausible ideas for a Tuesday Top Ten this week, but I will enlighten you about some shit that I hate: people who don't brush their teeth in the morning and then ride the L (or other modes of tightly packed public transportation).

In general, I have issues with the general population's inability to account for the various stenches emanating from their mouths. People drink way too much coffee, smoke way too many cigarettes, and eat way too many non-potatoes to not carry mints, gum, or breath strips at all times (and use them with reckless abandon). But this is one of the most egregious offenses.

This morning, the L was crowded, as it is every workday morning, which means that people are standing very close to one another. Some dude was mouth breathing right in my face, peppering me with a nice combination of his dinner from last night and eight-plus hours of bacterial growth. I just had to stand there and pray he was getting off at the next stop. It was miserable.

For Colgate's sake, there is no reason you should ever leave your dwelling in the morning to ride face-to-face with strangers without brushing your teeth. It's just inconsiderate. You know how your girlfriend hates your morning breath? So does everyone else in the world. And let's not forget that five out of five dentists recommend brushing your teeth in the morning.

So, as a courtesy to your fellow train riders, co-workers, significant others, and baristas, brush your fucking teeth every morning. Until then, I will hate you and all dragon-breathed sons of bitches like you.

Meaningless Post #2

I finally started watching Archer. Where was I on this one?

Meaningless Post #1

For some reason, the Playlist.com embedded boomboxes are playing automatically, for which I apologize and must immediately post twice so that every time you go to the GMYH home page, you don't hear both "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" and "To Be With Me" playing over each other.

Veni Vidi Vici

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of traveling to Colorado Springs for the nuptials of my old friend Dan and his female life partner. This is what I remember.

Upon my arrival, I paid Thrifty for the pleasure of driving a Hyundai Elantra, which had XM radio. When I got in the car, the first thing I did was press the "4" preset button. The Elantra knew it was Hair Band Friday, so it changed the station to XM's Hair Nation. Soon, I was cruising through Colorado Springs jamming to Tyketto.

I was left to my own devices during the rehearsal dinner. Thankfully, there was a BW3 across the street from my hotel. During the next four hours, I sat by myself at the bar, eating wings, drinking happy hour-priced draft beer, and beating the shit out of the rest of the restaurant at NTN trivia. There was a round about songs about drinking -- two things I love. Come on, NTN.

It stopped being fun at some point, so I texted Dan, and he informed me that they reserved a conference room at the hotel that was fully stocked. I settled up and walked out of BW3 to a standing ovation. Around this time, someone else in town for the wedding headed to BW3, where he was accosted (in the bar) by two guys who demanded his wallet and said they had a gun. He said, "No you don't." They said, "Yeah, you're right." And then they drank some beers together. They turned out to be, I shit you not, members of the United States Army.

But I digress. I headed into the party room, and it was bumpin'. I conversed with an old high school friend Carl. Beers were consumed. Laughs were had. Then something magic happened.

You know that scene in Braveheart where Longshanks's gay son's cocksure "friend" is trying to convince Longshanks that he is a good hire, so he tells Longshanks, with hubris, "I am skilled in the arts of war and military tactics," then Longshanks takes him by the scruff of his neck and tosses him out of a window, sending the cocky fop to his death? That's almost exactly what happened Friday night.

At some point in the evening, it was rightfully decided that a game of flip cup would be played. A non-Italian suggested the teams be comprised of those of Italian descent on one side and everyone else on the other. Presumably, the thought was that these non-Italians were more skilled in the arts of cups and flipping tactics than the Italians. "Without papers!" the non-Italians mockingly shouted. We were called guineas, goombas, and degos.

The Italians gathered on one side of the table –- olive-skinned gods and goddesses prepared to conquer as our people have done in the past. We were unified, gregarious, and terribly good looking. On the other side of the table, a ragtag bunch of "multiculturals" gathered, including people of Irish, English, Jewish, Mexican, German, and Polish descent. Notably, there were no Ostrogoths on their team.

With a "salud!" from our side of the table, the game started. The other team had no idea they were about to get thrown out of the window.

The grease from our fingers allows us to flip with less friction, so there is a much smaller chance of overflipping – a problem that plagued the Saxons on the other side of the table. And the Anglos? Jesus. Last time we had to deal with them, all we did was put up a wall and that was that. The Gaels were too overcome by the effects of alcohol to successfully flip a small plastic cup 180 degrees and have it land on its top, which is the entire purpose of the game. The Poles kept trying to flip the cup before drinking it, while the Germans kept barking orders and trying to take the game over. These shortcomings were not enough for the Jews and the Mexican (no strangers to ancient empires themselves) to overcome.

Our victory celebrations were marked with shouts of "tutti bravi!," hugs, dual cheek kisses, whistling at any woman who walked by, and sliced "capicohl." Here is the only record of the event. We stopped counting at five.



Eventually, the other side of the table surrendered, and soon the room devolved into an all-out orgy, in honor of Caligula. There was arm wrestling and beers poured on peoples' heads (the latter mainly as a result of infighting on the non-Italian team). At one point, the night clerk from the hotel walked in and was quickly sacrificed and devoured.

I woke up Saturday morning facedown in my bathtub wearing only giant gold pinky ring. "Volare" played from a nearby record player that was for some reason in my room. Balled up in a pile nearby were my silk boxers, wifebeater, black Z. Cavaricci jeans, and a Slovenian woman's hand. Battabing.

I dressed myself in what I would consider a post-modern summer casual frat guy attire, popped a few Excedrin Migraine, and shuffled my way to the front desk. I asked the still-living clerk where to get some fast food. Her response was, "There are tons of fast food options right around here. There's Chili's, Outback Steakhouse, BW3, Denny's, and Baskin Robbins." Really? I drove less than a mile and saw a Burger King, Arby's, Fazoli's, and Carl's, Jr. This explained why I dominated these people in games of the mind the night before.

I settled on Carl's, Jr. and bought a gigantic burger. When I got back to the hotel, I saw Dan, who was on his way to Outback (another fast food joint) for lunch with some other dudes, so I had a bite of my burger and put the rest in the minifridge. At Outback, I ordered a gigantic burger, but I ate the whole thing, which made me feel surprisingly good about myself.

We dispersed, as Dan had to get married. I took a much-deserved nap, took a shower, put on a suit, grabbed a VHS tape of Kid Colter, and headed to the front of the hotel, where a shuttle bus was waiting to take guests to The Broadmoor, where the wedding was.

On the shuttle bus ride, our driver informed us that the bears "are out," as if she was taking us to a campground instead of a wedding at the nicest hotel in Colorado Springs. Regardless, I left my stash of walleye on the bus.

The venue was pretty awesome. It was at a reception hall on the grounds of The Broadmoor, with an awesome view of the mountains on one side and Colorado Springs on the other.




The cocktail hour at the reception was on a terrace overlooking the city. A Latvian boy named Adam gleefully served the guests appetizers with smoked salmon and shrimp. Quietly hoping to see a bear maul an Eastern European live, rather than on YouTube or When Animals Attack, I failed to inform him of the bus driver's warning and stuffed chunks of salmon in his pockets while he wasn't looking.

Over the next several hours, people ate, drank, and danced. Grand plans were hatched on the shuttle ride back to have another rager in the party room, but we had no beer. Apparently in Colorado, you can get medical marijuana for back pain, but you can't buy booze after midnight on a Saturday. That didn't deter us, as we had several cases of wine in the party room. A sign was made, so that people wouldn't be confused as to the direction of the party.



Notice how the exclamation marks are smiling. I found that to be very inviting. Apparently few others did. The crew Saturday night ended up being much smaller than Friday night, since many people were drunk off of alcohol from the wedding. On the bright side, we could just drink our own bottles of wine, and there weren't any parents around to bust us, so we stayed up till like four in the morning. Whatever.

Sunday, I had some time to kill between checkout and my flight. I hoped to drive up Pike's Peak (which is a mountain, not the bosom of some one-titted chick named Pike). Unfortunately, there was some construction on the only road up there. It was a risk I wasn't willing take. Instead, I went to Garden of the Gods (Roman gods, no doubt). I walked around on some rocks, openly mocked some people with an Idaho license plate ("no YOU da ho!"), and then got back in the Elantra and jammed out to some White Lion while I drove back to the airport. Then I flew home and went to bed.

In conclusion, I like Colorado Springs. And remember, no Hair Band Friday post tomorrow because I will be doing it all over again in the dirty South.

Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches I slam in the back of my . . . washing machine?

Rob Zombie once made an album called La Sexorcisto: Devil Music, Vol. 1 and has directed a horror film called House of 1000 Corpses. Woolite wants to ensure that your clothes are clean. Seemingly, the two wouldn't mix, but then Woolite went and hired Zombie to direct a commercial. (Thanks to Ryan for the link.) Here is the commercial. I'll be honest, it's a bit more macabre than what I've grown to expect from laundry detergent commercials.

Tuesday Top Ten: Summer Beers

I'll be honest, I'm a bigger fan of dark beers and winter beers than I am of light beers and summer beers, but I still enjoy the latter. There is nothing like sitting on a porch, roofdeck, bar patio, boat, or gazebo while sipping on a cold beer and just going to town with some chick. Here are my favorite ten summer beers.

10 (tie). Bud Light and Coors Light
Many people poo-poo Bud Light and Coors Light. They are not my favorite overall beers, but they are still beer and they serve a purpose. In the summer, oftentimes you just want the lightest beer available. Both of these go perfect with cornhole.

9. Corona
Admittedly, it's not a fantastic beer, but there's just something about drinking a Corona with a lime during the summer that makes me feel like an American. Yes, I fully realize the irony of that statement.

8. Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy
Half-beer and half-lemonade, this is like a radler in Germany. It's a good beer for hydrating yourself.

7. Hoegaarden wheat ale
Germans aren't the only ones who can make a good wheat beer. Belgians can too. Hoegaarden, which I refuse to pronounce correctly because "ho garden" is funnier than "who garden," is a delicious, unfiltered, spicy wheat beer.

6. Red Stripe
Hooray beer!

5. Sam Adams Summer Ale
There is a reason Sam Adams has managed to become the largest American-owned brewery: mergers and acquisitions of other breweries. But that's beside the point. They also make great beers. The Summer Ale is no exception, and it has rightfully become a staple of taps during the summer.

4. Goose Island 312
Call me a homer, but I am a fan of Goose Island's "urban wheat," 312. It's not as heavy as a lot of wheat beers, and it's a great cookout beer. Hopefully Anheuser-Busch InBev doesn't screw it up.

3 (tie). Hacker-Pschorr Weisse and Paulaner Hefe-Weissbier
The Germans do good things with beer, and particularly with weissbier (or, as we English speakers call it, wheat beer). Hacker-Pschorr and Paulaner make my two favorite regular weisses.

2. Franziskaner Weissbier Dunkel
As the name implies, this is a dark weiss, and it is fantastic. It is particularly enjoyable at the Englischer Garten in Munich (or any biergarten in Munich for that matter), but if you're one of those pansies who hates to fly, then just go to Binny's and drink it in the privacy of your secure, locked, xenophobic home.

1. Bell's Oberon
This is a delicious and refreshing unfiltered wheat ale, which Bell's makes seasonally each summer. Remember when Bell's had to leave Chicago a few years ago because of a dispute with it's distributor? I killed a man because of that. Bell's eventually came back, so you might think my actions were a bit hasty, but I had to go two summers without Oberon.

As always, I'd love to hear any other suggestions.

Daysleeper Record Release Show This Wednesday at Schuba's

Hey Chicago music fans, my good friend Chris has a brother named Patrick, who has a band called Daysleeper. They are having their record release show this Wednesday night at legendary local music venue Schuba's. Tickets are only $10. 56 Hope Road and Adam Richardson are opening. The show starts at 8. Click here for more details about the show, click here to go to Daysleeper's website, and click here to go to Daysleeper's MySpace page. See you there!