If you had any doubts or preconceived notions about the guys in Slipknot, I encourage you to take a look at the following video of their press conference this week. You won't be converted to being a fan, but I know it gave me a different perception of the band: Stripped bare - without masks, music or costumes; grief-stricken and fragile -- they represent a portrait of humanity that most people never see in metal.
If you don't have time to watch the whole thing, at least try and just to the 4:40 mark for a beautiful moment.
As I mentioned in a previous post, my sadness has almost nothing to do with any liking I had for Dio's music. In point of fact, he didn't really make my type of metal.
Because Dio was one of the good guys. Whether you're scouring music forums, reading comments on Blabbermouth.net, or talking with old fans, it is universal that everyone thought Ronnie James was a good person.
Of course, you'll also find a great number of wonderful things online about the guy Pete Steele was, but the poor decisions of Pete's life certainly draw a stark contrast with how Dio went about his business, even in the years when no one was rushing to buy his records...as well as those recent years when that cokehead douche bag Jack Black was making him a punchline for all his cokehead douche bag fans.
...And don't even THINK about giving me that shit about how Jack Black really loves metal; I'm sure a lot of guys in minstrel shows really loved jazz too, but that didn't stop it from being a crime against art.
You see, Dio never would have had an outburst like that. Not in his character, God bless him.
Quick story:
A few years back I was lucky enough to attend a screening of "Metal: A Headbanger's Journey", during it's limited theatrical release. During the Q&A, director Sam Dunn was asked if Ronnie James Dio was truly the nicest guy in metal. Without blinking, Dunn grinned, raised his eyebrows and said, "Yes, he sure is."
What followed were stories about what an awesome host Dio was in him home, how generous he was with his time, and how every time he mentioned to the other subjects interviewed in the film that he was also speaking to Dio, they all gushed about how wonderful a person he is.
That doesn't mean that there's no such thing as bad taste. And it also doesn't mean that people with ordinarily good (or even excellent) taste aren't capable of enjoying what should otherwise be considered fantastic crap.
It all comes down to how one chooses to disclose the frequent contradictions of their true tastes over the years. Too shameful and you'll be considered a drama queen and a snob. Too honest, and no one will ever believe that you're even capable of recognizing the finer things in art and music.
(Consider for a moment the mortification you might feel if your music snob friends learned that not only are Savage Garden, Bad Company and Trixter all on your iTunes, but that they all boast abnormally high play counts).
I say that apologizing for your tastes over the years accomplishes nothing, and only sells through a less interesting story of how you arrived at the tastes that you embrace today.
And so, witness the shitty (and not so shitty) concerts that I saw over a roughly 10 year span between 87 and 97. These stubs tumbled out of a photo album that I found when I was moving a couple of months ago. Most were in D.C. but there are a few from other areas, and a couple of sporting events and other assorted ticketed disasters in here as well.
I figured it would be better to go public and share them than to have someone find them after I'm dead and I can't fully explain myself.
...Which might indicate that I'm a little more embarrassed about my lousy taste than I want to admit.
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