667, The Neighbor Of The Beast
My heavy metal knowledge is limited to just a few albums and even fewer bands, and my definition of “heavy metal” is probably different from yours, given the decade in which I grew up: AC/DC (all Bon Scott albums and Back In Black), Motorhead, Black Sabbath (the Ozzie years, naturally), the debut of Van Halen, and…well, that’s about it. I was much more a punk and thrash metal guy back in the day. But something compelled me to buy a tattered old used CD at the local thrift store a week ago that has me befuddled: Iron Maiden’s The Number Of The Beast.
First of all, GREAT COVER!
Second of all, Jesus Christ, what horribly dated and cliched lyrics!
Thirdly, GREAT MUSICIANSHIP! Top Notch!
Fourth, was Bruce Diskenson born a unich (for those of you who are wondering, a unick, according to Hoyle, is any young man who has had their balls removed before the age of 30)?
This is one of those albums where I find myself either rocking out or cringing and writhing in embarrassment. Those old feelings, the “us punks against you pussy glam hair metalheads” stand I used to take back in da day, haven’t really left, I guess. Listening back to some of my old punk albums, though, I have to say the sdame critisisms surely apply, even more in some cases (Dayglo Abortions, anyone?).
If any of you have strong feelings about Maiden, or this genre in particular, I’d like to hear from you. ‘Cause I haven’t a clue where to go from here, or even if it’s a worthwhile journey!