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For anyone coming of age in the 1980s, the rise of glam metal served as a rite of passage which most of us would rather forget. Winger, Ratt, Warrant...we have consigned these bands to mothballed oblivion for trafficking in lyrical cliches and fancified guitar fluff. Perhaps the only such band that deserves to escape the fate of a rogue Cheerio under a sofa cushion is Motley Crue. A&R opportunists and image consultants be damned, these Metal diehards have managed to keep their priorities straight by staying true to their legion of fans. These confrontational and hedonistic anti-heroes have made records we need not be entirely ashamed of owning. "Shout at the Devil" and "Home Sweet Home" have not tarnished with age, perhaps because the appeal of these songs is so primal -- requiring responses no more sophisticated than a fist in the air or a misty, sentimental tear. Even Generation Swine (1997) is -- for a comeback album -- audacious, heavy, and untamed. It demonstrates that the Crue's music is still capable of liberating fans, however briefly, from their mundane lives, emboldening them to live a little, have some fun, and rock out. What more can we ask of a band? |
