Accept

#1182: The Legendarium of George

RECORD STORE TALES #1182:  The Legendarium of George

Every neighborhood has a legend.  While in my own mind, I’d like to think that Bob Schipper and I were the legends, we were far too normal.  Oh sure, we were quirky, but we were not unique enough to be legends.   In our neighborhood, there was only one kid that was an absolute legend, and of his own making.  He was the obligatory “older kid” that had all the records, all the pornography, and reigned as the ultimate outcast.  That neighbor was George.

We lived in a relatively new subdivision.  When my parents bought their house, it was practically new.  Only one family owned it before.  Next door to us, George’s family had been there the longest.  Though he would only have been four years old, George always said he could remember when I was the new baby next door.

George was a dick from when he was just a kid.  He was also the ultimate neighborhood geek.  He had the big glasses.  He had the center-part.  But he was an enigma.  Even though he was most definitely a geek, he was also a braggart.  This probably came from his age, being the oldest kid on our street.  He was also one of the first kids to acquire a record collection, which meant there was often a reason to have to spend time with him, besides the times he’d just invite himself over.

His family was what you’d call dysfunctional today.  He never really had a chance, but George couldn’t be trusted.  While he could be sweet, he started young as a bad apple.

In one of my earliest memories, I was in my basement playing with Lego.  I built a colourful airplane.  I brought it outside to show George, and his two friends Todd and Sean.  “Make it bigger!” they egged me on.  I raced back inside and added another layer of bricks and brought it back out to show them.  “Bigger!  Make it even bigger!”  Eager for approval, I ran back inside and added another layer of multicolour bricks.  I leaped up the stairs and out the back door to show them again.  “Add more!  Keep adding!” they advised, and so I went back inside and added more bricks.  This went on approximately five times total.  The final time, I showed them my massive and impractical airplane, and George smashed it.  Laughing, they stole my bricks as I ran inside in tears.

Indeed, George soon earned a reputation as a thief.  In grade school, he was caught stealing Play-doh.  It became a well-known neighbourhood fact.  “George is a stealer!” said Michelle across the street.  It was like this black mark upon his house.  After he was caught, we didn’t see him around for a while.  He laid low.

Eventually the status quo returned, and George resumed joining the rest of the kids on the street in various activities.

We had a school with a baseball diamond and a tennis court nearby.  Two baseball diamonds in fact.  One summer afternoon, we were playing catch, but not on the diamond.  We were just playing in the schoolyard.  Someone threw George the ball; he ducked, and it went through the school window.

“Oooh George that’s your fault!”

“No it isn’t, you threw it too hard!”

“You should have caught it!”

We were all eager to throw George under the bus for that one.  We all felt he had it coming.

George would always bring two cans of pop with him when we went to the baseball diamond.  If you were thirsty, though, you didn’t bother asking George for a sip.

“These are mine for my diabetes,” he would always answer.

One of our weekend activities was playing “Pop 500” on the baseball diamond.  I don’t remember the rules, but the idea was to hit the ball as far as you could.  There was a regular group of us that played.  They included Bob Schipper, his brother John, George and his friends Todd Meyer and Scott Peddle.  It was well established that Bob was the best athlete in that group.  That wasn’t in dispute.  He was the biggest, strongest and fastest.  But George had his own ideas on how we ranked.

“Bob is the best at Pop 500,” he told me one afternoon.  “Then me, John, Todd, and you and Scott are in last place.”

He sure did think a lot of himself.  It seemed like he always had to be the best (or second best) at something.

Back to the Lego, when we were younger, George discovered this cartoon called Force Five.  It was a North American version of a few Japanese anime series.  Bob and I had never seen it or heard of it, but George was raving about this cartoon.  He built a Lego robot based on the show, but it was really shitty.  The arms and legs were just skinny little twigs that didn’t move, and it had a gun where its…well, where its dick would be.  Bob and I critiqued it fairly, but negatively.  However, we did take inspiration from George, and built our own robots.

We re-convened on my back porch with our robots.  Ours were cooler, had some movement and most importantly, didn’t have a gun for a penis.  (Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be talking about a different kind of “Love Gun” soon enough.)

George’s critique back at us was also in the negative, but for unexpected reasons.

“You see, yours are based on the idea of ‘robot’.  Mine is based on Force Five.”

Always had to be the best at something, to the point of basing the contest upon a show that neither Bob or I had heard of.  Sometimes it was hard to like George.

He was not the giving type, though he was always happy to show his younger neighbours his Playboy magazines.  I can distinctly remember one afternoon, we were out on the sidewalk, burning stuff with a magnifying glass.  I had an awesome plastic magnifying glass that could really burn.  For George though, burning holes in leaves and newspapers wasn’t entertaining enough.  He brought out a Playboy and encouraged us to burn the nipples.  That might have been the first pair of boobs I ever saw.

His young obsession with pornography put my parents on alert.  I think they considered George the neighbourhood pervert.  Indeed, he was the one who would introduce, shall we say, new terminology to our vocabularies.  He was the first one who had porno videos.  He would often talk about girls and sex, and at my age, I would have rather talked about Star Wars or comic books.

Because George was older, he was often first on board with many fads.  He had a Commodore computer early on, as well as a great collection of Transformers and GI Joes, including their accompanying comic books.  He had his own VCR, and he would borrow a second one from Todd to record porn videos.  And, he had a pretty killer record collection early on.  His favourite band was Kiss, and there is no question that without George, Kiss would not have been my favourite band.  When I discovered music, I spent a lot of time learning about Kiss, and other bands, from George.  He would bring his VCR over, and let me tape his music videos.

George’s big weakness was money.  He was stupid with money.  He would come into some money, and go to the comic store and buy a whole bunch of comics.  Then, six months later, he would get into something new, and sell off all his old stuff dirt cheap to fund his new obsession.  And so, he sold to me the first 24 or so issues of GI Joe: A Real American Hero for something like 50 cents each (except the early issues, which were a couple bucks).  This included the super rare first printing of issue 2, which I still have.  Unlike George, I kept every single thing I bought from him.  I still have everything.  This included G1 Optimus Prime, and a ton of early GI Joe figures and vehicles.  I have the GI Joe “MANTA” sailboard, which was mail-order only.  These things are priceless today.  He sold them to us for a few bucks.  Every time we came into some money, from allowance or chores, we could go over to his basement and buy a GI Joe toy.  This went on for a few weeks until he eventually sold everything, to buy records.  Because records were his new big thing.  Until CDs.  But let’s not jump ahead.

When George got into music, Kiss were his favourite band followed by Iron Maiden.  He quickly became a know-it-all.  He would play a tape, and try to stump us.  “Who’s this playing?” he asked.  We’d never heard the song before.  “I don’t know, Black Sabbath?”  He’d smirk and go, “NO, it’s Uriah Heep!”  This went on and on, to an annoying degree.  Bob and I decided to get our revenge and stump him instead.  Bob had recently acquired a cassette called Masters of Metal Vol. 2.  This compilation included a cool song called “Balls to the Wall” by a band called Accept.  “Who does this sound like to you?” asked Bob of me when he got it.  “It sounds like AC/DC to me,” I answered, considering the similarity between Brian Johnson’s grit, and Udo’s.

A plan was hatched.  We were going to put George in his place.

And so, in my back yard, gathered around a boom box, Bob challenged George to “name that band.”  Masters of Metal Vol. 2 was cued up to track five on side one:  “Balls to the Wall”.

George was quiet for the first minute of the track.

Then, “Watch the damned!” screamed Udo Dirkschneider from the speakers of that boom box.

Immediately George answered, “AC/DC”.

“No!  It’s Accept!”  exclaimed Bob in victory.

“Sign of victorrrrryyyy!” sang Udo behind us.

Bob and I stood up and high-fived in our own sign of victory.  George immediately tried to justify his mistake, by saying my stereo wasn’t very good quality, and that was the reason he got it wrong.  He certainly knew AC/DC when he heard it, he claimed, but my boom box was too cheap and crappy to tell the difference between AC/DC and Accept.

Sure…

Though George was seriously into music, as were Bob and I, there was one guy on the street that was miles ahead because he was in a band.  Rob Szabo is talented singer/songwriter today, but I remember when his favourite bands were Motley Crue and Stryper.  Rob had started playing with Peter Coulliard down the street.  He had even written and recorded two songs.  The second one was called “The Stroll”, and I can still hum it today.  George desperately wanted to be in that band.  He wanted to be cool.  He wanted to play in front of girls.  And Rob’s band needed a bassist.  George would hang out with Rob, watching him play, and Rob was kind enough to show him a few things on guitar.

George sold more of his stuff, and saved some money.  Soon, he had enough to buy a brand new bass.  He decided to surprise Rob one day by showing him.

“Look what I have!” he grinned.  “Now I’m your bassist!”  Only, George couldn’t play.  Rob was horrified.  He didn’t want this.  He was serious about music.  He also felt terribly guilty, because George bought the bass specifically because Rob needed a bass player!  For two weeks, George was technically “in the band”.   Rob made a copy of his two-song tape for George.  I was there when George played that tape for the girl he liked.  We were outside on the sidewalk, and George had his ghetto blaster in hand.  He played the first tune.

“That’s us!” he said.  “That’s my band.”  He wasn’t on the recording at all.

Like a kid who didn’t know how to break up with his girlfriend, Rob took a while to tell George he was “out” of the band.  He was crushed, but to his credit, he didn’t give up.

George kept practising.  Gene Simmons was his favourite bassist, followed by Steve Harris.  George would often bring his bass and amp outside to play, so he could be seen and heard by the neighbours.  Desperate to look cool, George brought his bass over to my house and plugged in on the back porch.  Then, he’d be back to “Guess this song” again, trying to stump us.  “Guess this song from the bassline!”

Durm durm durm durm.  Durm durm durm durm.

“Uhh, I dunno, ‘Shout It Out Loud’?”

“No, it’s ‘Love Gun!’”

Bob and I hated that game.  We may have schooled him on Accept, but he was relentless with the basslines.

Most of them were Kiss anyway.  He had a growing Kiss collection.  He would frequently come home from Sam the Record Man with new Kiss albums.   There was a point when he only needed two:  Hotter Than Hell, and The Elder.  There are good stories about each, but the main thing is that I actually got Hotter Than Hell before he did.  I had acquired it and Kiss Alive!, my first two Kiss albums, in a trade with Ian Johnson.  I gave him my sister’s Atari 2600 cartridge of Superman and got the two Kiss albums in return.  She was angry with me, but today accepts the importance of that trade to me.  I still have that copy of Kiss Alive!  As for Hotter Than Hell, I immediately phoned George and leveraged it in another trade, for a Walksman, a Black Sabbath cassette of Paranoid, an Abbot & Costello record of Who’s On First, and some Iron Maiden 12″ singles.  I definitely came out the winner.  That copy of Hotter Than Hell was brutally scratched.  But, I was now well on my way to having a rock music collection.

I taped most of my Kiss off George as I began my collection.  The annoying thing there wasn’t so much that I had to hang out with George to tape his records.  The annoying thing was that he would sit there and play bass as we were taping.  So, I had to politely compliment his playing, as he played along to the records I was taping.  The bass would bleed through, and therefore my dubbed cassette of Kiss Unmasked had his bass all over it!  I wasn’t able to get a proper copy of Unmasked for about two years, so for a long time, all I had was the cassette with George’s damn bass on it!  I can still hear it in my head, especially on “Naked City”.

George finished highschool, but I was just beginning.  In grade nine, I saw my first Battle of the Bands.  Rob Szabo was playing the regionals, and it was a big deal.  The grand prize was recording time at an actual studio.   I sat with Bob Schipper and Scott Peddle.  We were there to support Rob Szabo’s band, Over 550, but also to heckle George.  He had joined a band called Zephyr.

George was really rocking out.  He leaned way, way back as he played his bass.

“Don’t fall over George!” I yelled.

“You suck George!” shouted Bob Schipper.  Scott had his own comments that he yelled at the stage.  We thought we were absolutely hilarious.  It was our revenge for all the stupid bass he made us listen to in the back yard.

George eventually got a job at Long John Silver, a nearby seafood restaurant.  He was memorably disciplined for “finding a faster way to cook the fish,” but that was his main gig.  He would leave early in the morning, walking down the street alone.  He was notorious for singing on his way to work, with a Walkman and earphones.  George was not a good singer.  Not in the least.  My sister and I took to watching him from the front window when we saw him leaving for work.  We’d laugh in hysterics at his horrendous, off-key caterwauling.

The best example of this had to be one time we heard him singing Kiss.

He started his walk silently.  He was already halfway down the street when he raised his fist in the air and shouted “Alright! Love Gun!”  Then he proceeded with the off-key chorus.  “Love guuuuuuun…looove guuuuuuuuuuun!” he bellowed.  Somewhere in the distance, a dog answered his howl.

It was absolutely hilarious.  If there was such a thing as cell phone cameras back then, you can be guaranteed that I would have recorded it.  It was a moment, for sure!

When he was old enough to get into bars, he acquired his very own beer belly, which he showed off with his short T-shirts.  He got a perm.  With his big glasses, it looked even more hilarious than it would have on its own.  He wore studded wristbands and assorted metal jewelry.  He looked like an actual parody.  He used to show off this one photo of him with a bunch of strippers at a strip club, as if it were a trophy.

He was always talking dirty.

“Hey guys.  Wanna hear something cool?  I was getting out of the shower the other day, and I had a boner.  I hung a towel on it.  Pretty impressive.”

“What, a tea towel?” chided Bob.

Unfortunately, George’s problem with money was genetic.  After two and a half decades in the same house, they had to sell it and move.  He moved around a lot, and then eventually we lost track of him completely.  There were rumours he was in Orillia, or Windsor.

One day in 1995, I came home from work to find a message on my answering machine.

“Hey Mike, this is George calling.  I just wanted to tell you, I just bought all the new Star Wars Power of the Force action figures.  Call me.”

I could hardly believe it.  We hadn’t seen this guy in years and he was still up to his old habits:  Going all-in on the latest thing.  I’m sure by 1997, he had sold them all at a tremendous loss.

I didn’t call him back, but kind of regretted it.  Over the years, curiosity got to Scott Peddle and I, as we Googled and searched.  There was no sign of George, anywhere.  It was as if he had vanished without a trace.  Scott and I made jokes about how George was probably plotting his revenge against us somewhere, but the truth is, we spent more time telling “George stories” than anything else.  Because he was a legend.  A total legend.

Eventually, Facebook reunited us.  It was as if none of the past ever happened.  Nothing need be said; we were friends.  Perhaps for the first time.  As for George, he was more into Star Wars than ever.  He started a fresh collection of Star Wars Black Series action figures.  He read this blog, and commented on it.  But the sad ending to the story is that George died young, before he could even see The Force Awakens in the theater.

George passed on Boxing Day, 2014.  He was 46 years old.  He went to a party the night before, came home, and never woke up.  It is strange to think that George was always older than us, but now he will always be younger.  He went far too soon.  We reconnected as friends, but we learned that we are only immortal for a limited time.

We may talk shit about him to this day, but Scott and I toasted George when we went to see The Force Awakens together.

“Cheers, George.”  It was a moment.  He would have loved to see Star Wars back on the big screen.

We talk trash about him, and we make fun of him, but I guess he really became our friend.  He did earn every bit of shit that we threw his way.  It was always deserved.  I mean, he stole Bob’s brother’s bike.  (We know, because he put it in his garage, and his garage didn’t have a door, so you could see the bike from the street.)  He stole Lego from me more than once.  (We know, because I had a rare 4×3 clear windshield slope that disappeared one day and re-appeared in his collection.)  He stole Lego from Bob.  But, he let us tape his records and videos.  He taught us about bands, albeit in the most annoying ways.  Maybe when we were kids, the better word would have been that we were “Frenemies”.  That word didn’t exist back then.  When we reunited as adults, we became friends for real, though so briefly.  I’m not sure if George had a happy life.  He always had a smile, but he lost his family fairly young, and never married or had kids.  He was a loner.

But he was a legend.

 

REVIEW: Accept – Blind Rage (2014 Japanese import)

ACCEPT – Blind Rage (2014 Nuclear Blast / Japanese bonus track)

Accept finally proved they didn’t need Udo Dirkschneider with Mark Tornillo.  He has had a steady run of reliable albums that continues to this day.  2014’s Blind Rage was his third with the German metal legends.  Blood of the Nations and Stalingrad are hard to beat, and Blind Rage comes in third.

The album debuted at number one on the German albums chart.  It Accept’s last album with guitarist Herman Frank and drummer Stefan Schwarzmann, and produced generically by Andy Sneap.  Sneap gets a great sound, but as we’ll see, there’s too much formula and same-sameyness to the songs as the album goes on.  Fortunately, the album gets off to a good start.

“Stampede” is a quintessential opener!  Breakneck speed, but with melodic harmonies on guitar.  Wolf Hoffman certainly knows how to write riffs and guitar melodies.  Mark Tornillo is in great voice, growling low before hitting you with those screams, punctuated sparingly.  A tad generic with that shouted “Stampede!,” chorus but the screams and the tempo make it worthwhile.

The lyrics on “Dying Breed” are cringe worthy, I’m so sorry to say.  Some sample lines so you get the idea:

  • “Long ago a sabbath black cut through the purple haze.”
  • “Screaming with a vengeance that we will forever hear.”
  • “The zeppelin led it’s voyage thru skies of purple deep.”
  • “And in a land down under highway to hell was paved.”
  • “An iron fist cut the deck and drew the ace of spades.”

I am on record as disliking these kinds of references within lyrics.  Fortunately, Mark sings it with conviction, and the song itself is pretty awesome.  Guitar melodies are very much like a national anthem.  There’s another shouted chorus, “We’re the last of a dying breed!” but let’s hope metal doesn’t die prematurely.  Wolf throws in some classical-influenced guitar thrills to compensate.

The best song on the album is the desperation-drenched “Dark Side of My Heart”  Melancholy metal with a stunning chorus.  You can’t help but sing along, and all this is augmented by stunning guitar melodies by Wolf.  Accept always keep things moving, but it’s so much better when it’s melodic, and this is the most melodic song on the album.

The first slow song on the record is track #4, “Fall of the Empire”.  It takes a little longer to sink in, but the chorus is melodic enough.  However, Accept’s penchant for those low pitched gang choruses is already starting to wear.  Wolf’s solo here is really different, with a nice dry tube-y tone and some really unusual melodic choices.

Crank up the afterburners for “Trail of Tears”, a song about the trials of the Native American.  “Who are the savages now?” asks Tornillo.  The drums by Schwarzmann are phenomenal.  Another high speed blur of modern metal, and one that sticks in the brain afterwards.  Classical influences can still be heard in Wolf’s melodies.

Guitar harmonies take center stage for “Wanna Be Free”.  Slower, more deliberate, dark and with a message.  “No more crime and poverty,” “No more human trafficking”.  Fairly simple, but that’s often the goal of these kinds of songs.  Keep it positive, and not political.  Though the guitars are always enticing, this might be the first one you feel like skipping.

Nuclear war is always a hot topic for metal bands, ever since Black Sabbath popularized it in the 1970s.  In “200 Years”, nuclear war has devastated the planet to population zero:  “200 years after mankind”.  We’re back to the stone age just as prophesied.  “I do not know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”  That’s a quote often attributed to Albert Einstein.  Great topic, great song, with a neat little exotic interlude by Wolf in the middle before the solo.

Skipworthy “Bloodbath Mastermind” is just generic metal.  Yes, it bangs, but there are no exceptional hooks.  Pass.

Ear fatigue setting in, “From the Ashes We Rise” repeats the grooves that are becoming monotonous.  We realize now that the Japanese 12 song track listing is just too long.  This album should have been a simple, traditional 10 songs.  Having said that, at least “From the Ashes We Rise” has melody, while “Bloodbath Mastermind” did not. Ultimately it sounds like a knockoff of another song on the album.  A good knockoff, at least.

Back to quality, “The Curse” is a little more unique, and focused once again on melody.  It’s a little somber, which is a nice change of pace after so much defiant headbanging.  Some memorable hooks; different from the rest of the album.  A highlight.

The closing track on the standard album is the Priest-like “Final Journey”, the guitar solo of which creatively features a very recognizable melody lifted from Grieg’s “Morning Mood”.  Good closer, lots of building tension in the guitars.

The Japanese closer is “Thrown to the Wolves” which is fine, just like many of the album tracks, though like many of them, plagued with generic riffing and melodies.  Catchy enough, just…not unique enough.

Blind Rage is a solid album, but Accept’s repeated use of certain elements such as those low-pitched choruses makes some songs really hard to remember and differentiate.  Of the 12 songs, there are probably 10 keepers.  It’s not a bad album by any means, but the formula is starting to set in and it takes many listens to really separate the songs in your mind.  A little editing would have been wise.

3.5/5 stars

 

 

My Music Corner: Up to the Limit Episode 14 – Accept: Blind Rage (2014)

NOTE: My text review of Blind Rage by Accept will go up in the coming days.

Johnny Metal and John the Music Nut have been breaking down, in detail, every Accept studio album.  I jumped on board with Blind Rage, the third album with Mark Tornillo.  I chose this album since I had the Japanese import and I wanted the two Johns to have a chance to cover a rare bonus track on their show.

In this episode, we break down the album track by track, with a high level of agreement between us.  The Music Nut then goes through the tour in detail, discussing all the songs that were played live, and how often.  Some are still played live today.

If you want a sneak preview into my Blind Rage review, watch this episode, as I tried something new here:  reading my review aloud (not easy).  I may have even done some singing.

Check out the show, and look for my text review in a few days.

REVIEW: Accept – Symphonic Terror – Live at Wacken 2017 (2018)

ACCEPT – Symphonic Terror – Live at Wacken 2017 (2018 Nuclear Blast)

They weren’t the first, but they did it with their own twist.  It was inevitable that even a band with the heavy metal roots of Accept would eventually go symphonic.  Guitarist/leader Wolf Hoffman released his first classical album in the 90s, and in 2016 made the Headbanger’s Symphony record, adapting classical pieces to metal with Czech National Symphony Orchestra.  Accept’s Symphonic Terror combines their own metal masterpieces with the classical/metal hybrid Headbanger’s Symphony at Wacken 2017, to create a unique musical experience.

Like Kiss with their symphonic detour, Accept chose to break the set into sections.  The first consists of five Accept songs, mostly new, performed straight by the band with no extras.

“Die by the Sword” was the logical opener, also being the starting track on Accept’s newest album The Rise of Chaos.  The biting riff storms the Wacken stage.  It is vocalist Mark Tornillo who proves his worth over and over again through the entire show.  With voice set to full-grit he delivers all the power and melody that Accept’s material demands.  Not an easy gig.  Second, it’s the riffy “Restless and Wild” from Accept’s 1982 album of the same name (an album that they return to more than once on this night).  It’s singing the old Udo material that people will judge Tornillo by, and he does the job.  By necessity, it’s done with his own twist.  Another sharp Rise of Chaos standout, “Koolaid” is rolled out to great effect.  They dig back to the first album with Mark for “Pandemic”, riding the Peter Baltes bass groove to heavy effect.  Finally it’s the speed metal of “Final Journey” from the Blind Rage album.  Not the finest song of the set, but a banger indeed.

The Headbanger’s Symphony featuring the Czech National Symphony Orchestra has a different set of musicians in the front.  Wolf Hoffman and drummer Christopher Williams remain, while Mark Tornillo, Peter Baltes and Uwe Lulis are replaced by keyboardist Melo Mafali, guitarist Phillip Shouse and bassist Daniel Silvestri.  With the full might of the orchestra behind them, they take on  the tempests of “Night on Bald Mountain” (Mussorgsky). It’s not a pure adaptation, but more a thrash metal version with an orchestra.  “Scherzo” (Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony) is fully enjoyable and a better melding of the two styles.  Moving on to Prokofiev, “Romeo and Juliet” is slow and plodding.  Even with a burning hot Hoffman solo, it’s the least interesting.  I don’t think Beethoven envisioned the heavy riffing of “Pathétique” but you never know.  Did Beethoven invent speed metal?  Judging by this, he might have.  Vivaldi is next, the metal shredder’s favourite.  “Double Cello Concerto In G Minor” is less familiar but continues to combine the heavy and delicate music with an emphasis on the heavy.  Mozart closes the Headbanger’s Symphony set with “Symphony No. 40 In G Minor”, a familiar favourite made heavy enough to sound eerily similar to Queensryche’s “The Needle Lies”.

The orchestra stays on stage for the remainder of the show, peppered with new and old Accept classics.  Accept’s music works well with the orchestra behind, arguably better than Metallica’s does.

Back to 1982 and “Princess of the Dawn”, an awesomely enhanced Udo-era metal classic.  However it is “Stalingrad” that is the show stealer, a song clearly suited to the orchestral treatment.  It sounds as if the string section is charging into battle with the band.  Blind Rage‘s “Dark Side of My Heart” comes to life in this new form, a superior track to the original.  The punchy horns, the silky strings — everything comes together to raise the track to a higher level.

Back to 1981, the classical musicians may have had a difficult time keeping up with the speed metal of “Breaker”!  They get a “break” on the more deliberate pace of “Shadow Soldiers”, an excellent tune adapted well to the orchestra.  Another album highlight.  “Dying Breed” is a heavy track from Blind Rage, a little same-same sounding to other tracks like “Stalingrad”.

“Fast as a Shark” is the last of the speed metal tunes that the symphony has to try and keep up with.  They sure sound wonderful together on the neoclassical guitar solo section.  “Metal Heart” (with classical interlude) and “Teutonic Terror” both work well enhanced, but “Balls to the Wall” is surprising.  It’s always been a bit silly, but it sounds great with an orchestra.  Too bad Mark couldn’t nail that “sign of victory” part, but the absurdity of “Balls to the Wall” with a symphony is not lost.

Symphonic Terror was the second live album with Mark Tornillo on vocals.  Only about half overlaps with the previous one, and when you consider the differences offered by the symphony, not much overlap at all.

4/5 stars

#964.5: The Lists – 2021 Year in Review – Part Two

Here We Go Again:  End of Year Lists 2021

2021:  the year of the hamster wheel.  It sure felt like we were spinning our tires all year!  Sometimes inching a little forward in the mud, only to slide right back.  What a year.  But we did get some great music out of it.

Here at LeBrain HQ, if you go strictly by the numbers, there were two bands that dominated the year, both oldies acts from the 1980s:  Coney Hatch and Iron Maiden!  They (or members thereof) appear numerous times in the lists you’re about to read.  Not so “oldies” after all eh?  Five appearances for Iron Maiden, and a whopping seven for Coney and its members!

Even I was surprised by the lists this year!  All my favourite things, and the stats of 2021, are curated below.

Top 11 Albums of 2021

11. Polychuck – Shadows Exposed EP
10. Suicide Star – Isolation
9. Max the Axe – Oktoberfest Cheer EP
8. Mammoth WVH – Mammoth WVH
7. Danko Jones – Power Trio
6. Accept – Too Mean to Die
5. Smith/Kotzen – Smith/Kotzen
4. Iron Maiden – Senjutsu
3. Lee Aaron – Radio On
2. Coney Hatch – Live at the El Mocambo
1. Styx – Crash of the Crown

Top Five Box Sets of 2021

5. Kiss – Destroyer
4. Whitsnake – Restless Heart
3. Def Leppard – CD Collection Vol 3
2. Triumph – Allied Forces
1. Metallica – Metallica 

My Favourite Movies of 2021

5. Black Widow
4. Eternals
3. Free Guy
2. The Suicide Squad
1. Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

(placeholder) Spider-Man: No Way Home – you have to assume it’ll be my new #1 when I see it!

Top 11 Interviews / Unboxings of 2021 (by YouTube views)

11. Robert Lawson interview
10. Sean Kelly interview
9. Suicide Star interview
8. Coney Hatch live LP unboxing
7. Andy Curran round three
6. Andy Curran part one
5. Paul Laine interview
4. Mike Fraser interview
3. Martin Popoff interview
2. Andy Curran + Mike Fraser interview
1. Iron Maiden Super7 figure blind box unboxing

Top Five List Shows / Deep Dives 2021 (by YouTube Views)

5. Top Concept Albums
4. 5150 Deep Dive with Tee Bone
3. Desert Island Discs
2. Top Maiden Art
1. Top Five King’s X with Martin Popoff

Top Reviews of 2021 by Hits

5. GUNS N’ ROSES – “ABSUЯD”
4. STYX – Crash of the Crown
3. PAUL STANLEY’S SOUL STATION – Now and Then
2. IRON MAIDEN – Senjutsu 
1.  – Off the Soundboard – Tokyo 2001

What’s in store for 2022?

  • The Book of Boba Fett
  • Jethro Tull – The Zealot Gene
  • Marillion – An Hour Before Its Dark
  • Guns N’ Roses – Hard Skool EP
  • new Sven Gali
  • Scorpions – Rock Believer
  • new Coney Hatch live with two new studio cuts
  • new Journey?
  • new Def Leppard?
  • Bryan Adams – So Happy it Hurts
  • Liam Gallgher – C’Mon You Know
  • Thor: Love and Thunder
  • Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness
  • Black Panther: Wakanda Forever
  • Disney+: Ms. Marvel, Moon Knight, She-Hulk, What…If? season 2, Secret Invasion, The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special
  • The Mandalorian season 3
  • New albums from Ghost, Rammstein, Ozzy Osbourne, King Diamond, Weezer and more

 

TONIGHT.

Friday December 31, 9:00 PM E.S.T. on YouTube, Facebook and also Facebook!

REVIEW: Accept – Too Mean to Die (2021)

ACCEPT – Too Mean to Die (2021 Nuclear Blast)

Tornillo-era Accept has been a pretty even field; a level grid of Sneap-sharp production and Hoffmann’s razor-riffs.  If you expected change just because there’s a new bass player for the first time ever, you’d be wrong.  Accept may be down to just one original member (Wolf Hoffmann himself) but it doesn’t matter much.  What Accept deliver on Too Mean to Die is the same as they have done for every album since 2010’s Blood of the Nations.  Reliable, like AC/DC…or a comfortable leather jacket.

Nothing wrong with this.  Accept found a formula that works in their post-Udo world and it works well.  It’s difficult to remember what songs are from what albums, but Accept haven’t stopped putting out solid quality metal.

There’s the song about zombies (“Zombie Apocalypse”), one about never giving up (“Too Mean To Die”), the mid-tempo one (“Overnight Sensation”), the one about the media (“No Ones Master”), the single* (“The Undertaker”), the one with the funny title (“Sucks to be You”), the classical influence (“Symphony of Pain”), the ballad (“The Best is Yet to Come”), the one about the state of the world (“How Do We Sleep”), the angry one (“Not My Problem”), and the instrumental (“Samsom and Delilah”).

The riffs keep hammering in the capable hands of Wolf, and Mr. Tornillo on lead vocals never stops givin’ ‘er.  Hooks on every track.  The energy is no less than their first together.  Wolf’s guitar tone remains as tasty as it has been for over four decades.  One more album to add to your collection, as the Tornillo era blends together like a monolithic five-CD box set.  Too Mean To Die could have been titled Disc Five, so if you need to complete your set, do it now.

4/5 stars

* The single for “The Undertaker” features a non-album live track on its B-side, of a non-album single called “Life’s a Bitch”!

 

#877: Accept Your Fate

GETTING MORE TALE #877:  Accept Your Fate

George, rest his soul, was a bit of a know-it-all.  He was the oldest kid on the block.  He was already living there when my parents moved in.  He was burning the nipples out of Playboy magazines with a magnifying glass when the rest of us were playing dinky cars.  Logically, he was into music before the rest of us as well.  The only one in the neighbourhood that was into Kiss before George was Sean Meyer.  George got into Kiss through Sean.  But he had a bit of a superiority complex, because Sean didn’t hang out with us, which made George the de facto senior of the group.

I remember him strutting his superior robot knowledge when we were really young kids.  It was him, myself, and Bob in the back yard with our Lego.  (George stole a piece of my Lego by the way, and a piece Bob’s too.  But we stole them back.)  George had been into a show called Force Five and built a robot made of Lego based on what he’d seen.  We admired it, and each of us came back with our own robots of Lego.  We made some design improvements over George, but he was not impressed.

In a condescending voice, George explained, “Yours are good but they’re not what mine is.  You built yours based on the concept of ‘robot’.  I built mine based on ‘Force Five'”.

Just the way he was.  As the youngest of three siblings, perhaps that contributed to his need to be better than us at childhood activities.  Or maybe it was just that he was the senior of the group.  But he did.  He even ranked all the neighbourhood kids in our baseball abilities.  We played “Pop 500” in the ball park.  According to George:

“Bob’s the best,” which honestly was indisputable, but then he went on.  “Then there’s me, and Rob Szabo, and John, and Todd Meyer, and Scott Peddle and Mike Ladano at the bottom.”  Hey, dude spoke his mind.  You can see why he made it difficult to like him sometimes.

We blamed George the time they were playing catch, and broke a window.  They were playing catch in the school yard.  Either Bob or John threw a solid one to George, who chickened out and ducked, thus breaking the window.  He got the blame, anyway.  When it came down to the actual hierarchy of the group, he was often Scapegoat.

Naturally George was into Kiss, and rock and roll, before Bob and I.  He had a growing Kiss collection.  We heard those albums first via George.  But he was such a know-it-all.  He bought a bass, and would play around in the back yard going, “Name this tune.”

One day, Bob came to me and said “I think I have a way to trick George on a music question.”

It was the very same Masters of Metal Vol. 2 cassette tape that started me on my own rock journey.  There was a band on the tape that we were sure that George had never heard of:  Accept.  And to our young ears, Udo Dirkschneider sounded exactly like Brian Johnson from AC/DC — the shriek.

“I’m going to play him this song ‘Balls to the Wall’ and we’re going to ask him who the band is.”

I enthusiastically agreed to play along.  Bob’s prediction was that he would think it was AC/DC.  It was a gamble, given that George was more experienced.  But he needed to be taken down a peg.

And so, in my back yard, gathered around a boom box, Bob challenged George to “name that band.”  Masters of Metal Vol. 2 was cued up to track five on side one:  “Balls to the Wall”.

George was quiet for the first minute of the track.

Then, “Watch the damned!” screamed Udo Dirkschneider from the speakers of that boom box.

Immediately George answered, “AC/DC”.  And just as immediately, Bob and I stood up and laughed!

“No!  It’s Accept!”  exclaimed Bob in victory.

“Sign of victorrrrryyyy!” sang Udo behind us.

George was flabbergasted.  He immediately struck out with explanations for his incorrect answer.  The quality of my boom box may have been drawn into question.  There were reasons that he answered AC/DC, but they weren’t his fault!

But Udo had spoken, “sign of victory,” and Bob and I declared ourselves the winners of this particular contest.  It was a very memorable way to cement Accept into my grey matter.  A momentous occasion in terms of neighbourhood history.  We made sure we told the tale of how we bested George in rock knowledge one afternoon.

Listen to both Udo and Johnson at that point in the 80s.  They both had such a deep, full bodied shriek.  The fact that George thought it was Johnson isn’t really a patch on George.  It was an honest mistake.  Our pride in fooling him was simply because George acted like he knew absolutely everything about rock.  And we had proven that he did not.  That’s all we wanted.  It was kind of like being the guy who took down James from his winning streak on Jeopardy.

As a coda to this story, it’s interesting to note that none of us knew what most of these bands looked like.  There were no picture inside that little cassette cover.  Then, one day I was in my basement watching one of the very first episodes of the Pepsi Power Hour.  On came Accept with “Balls to the Wall”.  I glued myself to the screen.

As the three guys with the axes in the front made cool knee-bending poses in sync with the music, I said that “Accept look pretty cool.”  Wolf Hoffmann in the front with the white Flying V” had a blonde, wind-swept mane.  I envied him.  The video lingered on the three axe-wielders for some time, before the vocals finally begin.

And then, suddenly appeared this little, tiny guy in head-to-toe camouflage.  He was slightly rotund, and he had… short hair?  This man with the monstrous screaming voice was a tiny guy with short hair and camo pants?  It was completely incongruent with the sound coming from his lungs.  How could this be?  It seemed, from the video, that the band were sort of highlighting or even mocking his short stature in their stage act.  A close-up shot of Udo’s head within the gap of Wolf Holfmann’s Flying V was simultaneously hilarious and bizarre.  In another shot, Wolf is covering Udo’s head and face with his hands as if he’s just a little GI Joe doll.

Obviously my first priority was telling Bob about this fresh discovery.  In our next conversation, I told him of the Accept video and the startlingly short (and short-haired) lead singer.  He was astonished to see it for himself.  I think seeing what Udo looked like may have soured him on Accept.  I don’t recall him being into them as much anymore, and I’m pretty sure he never owned any of their albums.

Fortunately Accept redeemed themselves in my eyes with a video from their next album Metal Heart.  I taped this video off the Power Hour in early 1986.  It didn’t feature Udo being used as a prop so much.  Scott Peddle found the spinning effect to be dizzying, as did I, but a cool effect it was.  (In hindsight it actually looks quite similar to the “bullet time” effect from the Matrix films.)  “Midnight Mover” was the song that kept me interested in Accept.  It proved you could have a little guy in camouflage (now with additional leather military utility belt) at the front and center, and still have it look cool enough for the kids.

Bob agreed that “Midnight Mover” was a cool video but was never really won over to Accept like I was.  By 1989, any prejudice either of us had about Udo’s appearance were rendered irrelevant when Accept parted with him and brought in an American singer named David Reece.  They came out with an intriguing new sound with “Generation Clash”, the first single/video.  Reece was a normal looking blonde singer dude, totally ready for MTV play.  He also had pipes to spare.  He could nail the screams but he was more versatile, and able to do more commercial music.  And it seemed like that was the direction that Wolf wanted to go in.

Ultimately the Reece lineup didn’t survive, but their story certainly didn’t end there.  Where I was concerned, I liked “Generation Clash”.  I still think the guitar solo alone is a tremendous and diverse piece of music.  The Accept/Reece experiment didn’t really fail for me, and I think their Eat the Heat album is pretty heavy for the year 1989.

Still, when they make the movie of my life, it’s the Accept scene with George getting schooled that I hope makes the final cut.

Sunday Screening: Sea of Tranquility – Accept – Ranking the Studio Albums w/ Martin Popoff

A huge thanks again to Martin Popoff for gracing our little show with his presence and knowledge on Friday night.  One of the topics discussed was his ranking of all the Accept albums with Pete Pardo on Sea of Tranquillity.   It’s an episode we all enjoyed, even though we haven’t heard all the Accept albums ourselves.

This fine episode is below for your edification.  Please enjoy Sea of Tranquility – Ranking the Studio Albums: Accept (w/Martin Popoff)

Gallery: A closer look at Alice Cooper and Japanese import unboxings

This week’s live show included some cool unboxings.  Here is a closer look at the three new arrivals at LeBrain HQ.

#1 Dokken – The Lost Songs: 1978-1981 Japanese import.  Old unreleased demos polished and finished for release.  This baby has a bonus track called “Going Under”.

#2 Accept – Blind Rage Japanese import.  2014 studio album.  “Thrown to the Wolves” is the name of this Teutonic terror’s bonus track.

# Alice Cooper – “Don’t Give Up” 7 inch picture disc single.  Great to finally have this new Covid-related recording on a physical format.

 

Adventures in Epilepsy – Live LeBrain Train with Guests

Episode 30 – Adventures in Epilepsy

A few technical difficulties with the Facebook feed, but a good show all around.  A more personal show this time, if you ever wanted to know how epilepsy can change lives, then you’ll want to check this one out.  No more concerts, no more movie theaters — such is the new reality that my wife lives in.

But we did more than just talk about epilepsy, much more in fact.  Unboxings, books, and guests — it’s all below.

The live stream feed is much choppier on Facebook so I encourage everyone to watch on Youtube from now on.  The Youtube feed was solid.   People on Facebook were reporting freezing video, so in an effort to fix that, I stopped the feed and started over.  That’s why there are two Youtube videos below.

  • I started with some cool unboxings — Japanese imports and vinyl.  Go to 0:05:10 of the first video to see some metal goodies and rarities.
  • For the start of the epilepsy show, go to 0:18:25 of the first video.  It continues at 0:07:15 of the second video.
  • Old pal and author Aaron Lebold came on to talk about his own history with epilepsy, and his new book Genocide at 0:41:15 of the second video.
  • Kevin Simister aka Buried On Mars stopped in at 1:06:35 of the second video to talk about crappy Amazon shipping and to do a CD unboxing.
  • And finally Rob Daniels came in at 1:20:45 of the second video to hang out, talk music, and his own show Visions in Sound.  He has lots of fun planned for October!

Thanks for watching the LeBrain Train episode 30!

First video – start of show

Second video – continuation and conclusion