They say every city has an underbelly. An underground, that sits next to the glitz and clean streets, providing an alternate reality to modern living.
It's the same with music. For every prissy, hairbrushed pop song sent from the depths of Sony BMG, equating the concept of life and death as we know it to how much we dance in a nightclub, there is a gritter, dirtier, and perhaps more realistic musical take on things lying just under the surface.
In 1987, Guns 'N Roses were that underbelly. Emerging from a LA Rock scene diluted with Motley Crue and Poison wannabes, the famous strip was awash with make up wearing, back combing, glam rock bands.
But then, like now there was an underground. During the time that the Thrash Metal scene had moved up toward San Francisco in search of less feminine shores, Guns 'N Roses stayed, swallowing all the glitz and glam before spitting it back out in their own unique way.
And out of that particular orifice came "Appetite For Destruction", an album packed to the brim with poison, tales of sex, debauchery and over reliance on heroin. And my god, we loved it.
Opening the true to life description of city living in "Welcome to the Jungle", a song written based on an experience singer Axl Rose and rhythm guitarist Izzy Stradlin shared in their youth, meeting a old black man on their first foray outside home, who shrieked "Welcome to the Jungle boy - You gonna' die!".
It set the tone. The sultry, sleazy guitar tone, Axl's bluesy cries from the microphone, tied together with a rock solid rhythm-bass-drums trio were the order of the day, and it was fantastic.
Sailing through "It's so easy" and "Nighttrain", the former a fairly self explanatory description of the rockstar life style, the latter an ode to a cheap wine the band drank whilst scraping for pennies pre-record deal, Guns 'N Roses had honed a sound previously unheard, combining the raw, brash animalistic tendencies of Rock 'N Roll with well mixed precision, and even a ballad in club classic "Sweet Child 'O Mine".
The difference between G'N'R and most other bands were that the tales they told of deprivation, of poverty, addiction and lust, they were all real. This was not a record label selling a cliche', this was a Rock 'N Roll band being autobiographical.
They were four misfits who stumbled upon each other in the Los Angeles wilderness and this is the noise they made. No more, no less. And with it, they pierced the trend they went against in the first place. G'N'R becoming the bridge between the Poison's, Motley Crue's, the Bon Jovi's of the world and the heavier, dingier, more metal; acts sitting just under the surface too.
They looked great, they sounded great, they acted like rockstars before they became them and by the time they did, it didn't feel like a transition.
It is a testament to them as a band, and to "Appetite For Destruction" as an album to cement a lasting appeal and impact where so many others had failed. Motley Crue were the band of the day, but put "Girls, Girls, Girls" on after "Sweet Child 'O Mine" and the numbers singing along will drop.
They have now been entered into the prestigious "Rock N' Roll Hall Of Fame", alongside Metallica, Ozzy Osbourne, AC/DC and so many more legendary acts as they too have become part of the rich mosaic that is the foundation of the Rock 'N Roll industry.
And they are. They are now legends, and that début album - arguably the greatest début of all time, has gone down in history too.
In every city there's an underbelly. Every industry has an underground. But not very often does a band that was so resolutely underground and anti-industry become a stadium filling, chart topping and history making. And for that, I salute Guns N' Roses, and "Appetite For Destruction".
"equating the concept of life and death as we know it to how much we dance in a nightclub" Ridiculously funny and sad at the same time, but only because it's ridiculously true.
ReplyDeleteI must confess that I have never loved GNR, but I also cannot argue with your assessment of their place in music history nor their contributions.