» LATEST FEATURES
LITERATURE» Full Dark, No Stars - Stephen King's new novella questions mankind's ability to trust others.
MUSIC» The Top 30 Albums of 2010 - Fashionably, fabulously late, our favorite music (and believe me, there was a LOT) of 2010, the year that some have called the best year for music ever. And only some of those fools work here. Plenty of usual suspects, lots of ties and a few surprises that I won't spoil, including our unexpected #1.
MUSIC» Live: Surfer Blood/The Drums at Lincoln Hall, Chicago, IL - Remember when Weezer used to put together records that you could sing along to and rock out to? That's what Surfer Blood's show was like!
I will readily admit that the band had their time and place. In a decade where spandex, hair spray, and make-up were the norm for "Metal" bands, Mötley Crüe had the highest hair, looked the most like chicks, and rocked the biggest side-pipes. They also did the most drugs, fucked the most groupies, and killed the most people in drunk driving car accidents. Way to go guys.
Unfortunately for our hard rocking hedonists, the early nineties smelled more like Teen Spirit than hairspray and it was no longer cool to do a bunch of coke, prance around on stage, and pass out backstage passes to every set of Double-D's in the front row. Spandex was out and flannel was in. Needless to say, the following decade was not kind to the Crüe.
This brings us to Michigan and the extravaganza that is a Mötley Crüe concert. Having smoked and snorted away the millions upon millions of dollars they made from selling millions upon millions of records in their heyday, this year saw The Crüe putting aside their differences long enough to bring the rock one last time! Or something like that.
|Pretty in pink: Spandex-rock's bad boys in their heyday.|
When I signed on to cover the reemergence of the Crüe I was pretty sure I knew what I was getting myself into. Foresight, however, would make Carnival of Sins no less daunting, and it took quite a while to build up the fortitude to sit down and watch the damn thing. When I finally did, I was in for what was unlike a huge surprise - that is to say that it was exactly what I thought it would be. A few of the, um, highlights, along with a couple of observations:
» A tasteless and ill-conceived claymation intro that features Tommy Lee taking a dump and a set of silicon breasts exploding.
» Midgets and scantily clad women writhing around onstage!
» Fire! Fire! Fire!
» Mick Mars, who has always seemed like the nicest and most normal member of the band, unfortunately passed away and is now being propped up and made to mimic guitar playing a la Bernie in Weekend At Bernie's.
» The songs sound as revamped as Vince Neil's face.
» Any song they wrote after about 1989 sucks. Come to think of it, any song they wrote before 1989 sucks, too.
» Girls, if you are going to attend a Mötley Crüe concert, make sure to wear your nicest tube top. Guys, make sure you look like an idiot.
And that's just the twenty-five minutes I was able to sit through.
The Crüe's live concert is by no means the only draw of the DVD. A second disk comes chock full of extras that most well adjusted human beings would find completely unnecessary. For those that need to look deeper into the mysteries of a Mötley Crüe concert, there is a doCrüementary. Yeah, you read that right. If you find documentaries too educational, there is also a short sequence highlighting Tommy Lee's frequent use of the "titty cam." Showing further proof that he really is fourteen years old, Tommy Lee stops the show to break out a camera and coax girls into taking off their tops. I hope he put that on his college application.
At one time Mötley Crüe was the most bad-ass band in the world. They were the epitome of rock star excess- drinking, drugging, and fucking their way into the annals of rock and roll history. Unfortunately, the qualities that make rock stars rock stars age about as well as seafood. No amount of pyrotechnics, scantily clad women, or midgets can hide the fact that the show consists of four over the hill dudes singing songs about the joys of being young, dumb, and full of cum. Granted, it is all about entertainment, and explosions and loud rock and roll are entertaining, but there is also something a bit sad when a band doesn't quite go so gracefully into that good night. Our idealized rock gods have now become overweight, drug-addled caricatures of their former selves.
But, you know what? Fuck it. If you are a member of the population who wants to drink a ton of Bud Light in the parking lot, sit on your boyfriend's shoulders and lift up your shirt, and scream along to "Shout At The Devil"- by all means, go for it. You have every right to plunk down way too much money for a chance to relive that special summer in high school, the one you spent driving around in your Camaro listening to "Dr. Feelgood" so many times that the tape snapped like a g-string backstage on the Girls Girls Girls tour.
Rock on. SEE ALSO: www.motley.com
An aspiring global adventurer who cut his teeth on the sandy beaches and dirty bitches of Southern California, Kevin Alfoldy now spends his non-vacation days in Brooklyn, New York, where he occasionally finds the time to rub the crust out of his eyes long enough to contribute reviews and feature articles for LAS. A longtime staff member, Kevin also captains the tattered, often half-sunk raft of EPmd, our irregular column of EP reviews.
See other articles by Kevin Alfoldy.
» MEDIA DOWNLOADS
» GOT STICKERS?
--> Send an with $2 in PayPal funds to cover postage. Don't worry, we'll load you up with enough to cover your town. Then just be patient. They will arrive soon.