I tried reading this years ago, when I lived in Seattle I think. It absolutely didn’t click. A few years later, when I lived in New York and saw the atmosphere every day, I gave it another try, and it totally made sense. Ellis isn’t writing this overblown, adjective-filled description of a completely despisable yuppie because he wants you to love him; he’s writing to show you that he’s a dick. And that type-A personality disorder is what makes him a killer.

I also read this back-to-back with Fight Club, and the similarities between the two were a total mindfuck.

For some reason, when my stomach is upset and knotted around itself, eating Junior Mints always make it stop.

Just be careful when you buy them in the summer. Nothing’s worse than opening the box and finding all of the mints are one congealed, stuck-together mass.

When you ask people what they remember about Winger, basically only two things come up. One is their hugely successful single, “Seventeen”, which seems to validate statutory rape. The other is that the show Beavis and Butthead mercilessly slagged on the band. Stewart, the fat kid next door who was the target of the duo’s wrath, always wore a Winger shirt. That association pretty much killed the short run of bassist and frontman Kip Winger’s short little experiment in the metal world of the late eighties.

Kip Winger, a music and dance prodigy (he was actually a member of the Colorado State Ballet after dropping out of high school and finishing a GED to study music early), toured with Alice Cooper while seeking to start a metal band. He hooked up with Berklee school of music alum and guitarist Reb Beach and keyboard player Paul Taylor in New York City, with every intention to create the next big thing. Instead of just being a couple of teenagers growing out their hair, getting blown backstage, and drinking a lot of Jack Daniel’s, they wanted to create a hit machine, carefully crafting the songs with their knowledge of music theory. The band got writing in 1987, and in 1988, this self-titled debut came out.

I know everyone dismisses this album as trite hair metal. These guys all do have hairdos out of Lorael commercial, with lots of leather, mesh, and snakeskin apparel. I’m sure at least part of their popularity at the time were that the girls all wanted a piece of them, and I’m also sure their image was carefully groomed in order to utilize this as much as possible. But when you set that aside and listen to the album, you find eleven tracks of carefully crafted songs. And I guess you’d call this heavy metal, bordering on hard rock, but it’s almost like pure pop with very metal overtones on top of it. I think if the band Winger never would have happened, Beach and Winger could have made serious bank pulling a Diane Warren and penning a slew of songs to be performed by Aerosmith, Bryan Adams, and Celine Dion.

The first thing I always notice about this album is the guitar work of Reb Beach. He has a frighteningly distinct tone, and his playing warbles and sweeps through songs, forming a very solid texture. Beach reminds me of Dokken axeman George Lynch in his style and approach, except he’s a bit smoother and more accessible. I think there’s a certain line where if you cross it, a lot of non-metal people will think it’s pure noise, and the art is getting as close to that line as possible while doing really sick stuff on the fretboard. Lynch is always a little over that line, which always kept Dokken off the radio and charts. I like George Lynch’s playing a lot, but Reb Beach manages to get all of the intricate playing in there, while still making it very accessible. (And oddly enough, Beach replaced Lynch in Dokken for part of the late 90s. He was also in Alice Cooper, and is currently a member of Whitesnake. What’s even more weird is that his brother John is a very successful voice actor, and you’ve probably heard him a million times on TV.)

About the songs: they’re all, for the most part, about women and relationships, but they aren’t all-out “hey baby, you’re so hot” songs or anything. The best of them are a bit more torn and conflicted, and that probably makes them even more likeable. Their other big hit, the ballad “Headed for a Heartbreak”, is absolutely desultory in the way it lays out the words. And of course, it’s got so many hooks in the way it just pulls you through this misery. And right at the peak of it, Beach takes off in a lopsided and sorrowful guitar solo. It’s engineered so perfectly, it’s no wonder it climbed the charts.

There’s the song “Seventeen”, and yeah, it’s a little weird, but it’s also pretty catchy. I think a lot of it has to do with the riffing up to the chorus and the way Winger carefully stumbles the verse a bit before leading up to the totally harmonized chorus. Winger’s lyrics in general are just a few shades below total saccharine, but everything is either harmonized or tied to a perfectly carved synth line or in front of some strings that hit the guitar in such a way that you think these guys listened to a lot of Beatles records between music theory lessons.

There are a couple of things that don’t work. “Higher and Higher” is the bonus track (that is, of course, on every version of the album) and it doesn’t exactly fit. The album would have worked better if “Headed for a Heartbreak” faded to black. There’s also a forgettable cover of “Purple Haze” that has really odd phrasing and isn’t either metal-aggressive or true to the original as much as it is just weird. It does feature a guest solo by Dweezil Zappa, though, so that’s not bad. What is bad is that it probably influenced a lot of really bad garage bands to cover the song, like Motley Crue inspired a lot of bad covers of “Helter Skelter” by kids who thought they originally wrote it.

I’m not trying to be a Winger apologist here. I think this is a great debut, but their other stuff fell flat, and I have no idea why they’re currently touring. (I do feel bad that Winger’s wife got killed in a 1996 auto accident, and he had to deal with an incredible amount of shit there, on top of being the butt of every hair metal band joke ever.) But I do know that the songs on here rate high in the guilty pleasure department, and this CD ends up in the player a lot, especially when I’m depressed. Probably my best Winger story is that the night before I left for college, I got dumped by my girlfriend, and of course it was one of those world-ending depression things. The next morning, when I woke up early to load up the truck and leave, the alarm came on, and the song “Headed for a Heartbreak” immediately came on the clock radio. It was such a fucked-up coincidence, and the music fit so well right then. The song’s haunted me ever since. And regardless of Stewart’s t-shirt, I’ll still always enjoy listening to this disc.

After the release of Keeper of the Seven Keys, Pt. 2, you’d think the world would be great for Helloween, since it cracked the top 30 in England, but instead, it turned into a world of shit for the band. First, their leader and guitar player Kai Hansen freaked out and quit the band on the verge of a tour. Then, they got a deal with EMI to buy them out of their contract with Noise Records, but it tied them up in a huge legal dispute for over two years. The product of that dispute was three live EPs, released by EMI to keep the band alive during their troubles.

I have to admit that I bought the US version of the EP when it came out. (There are also UK and Japanese versions, with different recordings, but only slightly different setlists. Oh, and the EPs have Kai Hansen on guitar, they were recorded before he split.) And for whatever reason, I listened to it a LOT. I still listen to it now and again. But I have to be honest with you: 85 percent of this 42-minute album sucks total shit. I know, that’s heresey, but it’s true! Since it’s short enough, I will break it down for you track by track.

1: Intro/A Little Time: They waste a lot of time with the crowd chanting “happy Helloween”. Okay, I timed it, and it’s only like 25 seconds, but it’s such a huge waste of time, and this is a short album that’s only made to make us pay to keep thinking about the band until they put out another album, right? The song is not bad, with very Bruce Dickinson-sounding lyrics that are pretty tight, but then about three minutes in, there’s some vamping part that’s in there to kill time, probably while vocalist Michael Kiske slaps hands with people in the front row or something stupid.

2: Doctor Stein: Kiske spends TWO AND A HALF MINUTES babbling like a drunken idiot before the song starts. The song is okay, except where Kiske inserts a “1-2-3-4” before singing part of a verse, which drives me fucking homicidal.

3: Future World: About a minute and a half of rambling and guitar tomfoolery until the song starts up. Kiske tries to get the audience to sing the first verse, and only about three people know the words. For fuck’s sake, if you are singer, DO YOUR JOB and sing the song instead of trying to get the audience to sing it. Nobody cares. Seriously. He does this in one or two other places, with predictable results. Then about six minutes into the song, they go into one of those huge audience participation wastes of time where the drums keep the same beat, and the guitar does dumb shit for six bars, and then the singer tries to get everyone to sing, etc. Iron Maiden did it on the song “Running Free” and it wasn’t even cool when they did it.

4: We Got the Right: About thirty seconds of guitar noodling, which is actually better than the song. I hate this song for some reason. It’s just mid-paced ballady bullshit. I wish the US version of this EP had something better here.

5: I Want Out: Finally! A really good song, no stupid intros, no audience sing-alongs. Unfortunately, it only lasts four minutes, and then we get a bunch of chanting of “here we go, here we go, here we go”, as Kiske tries to rev the audience up for an encore. Another two minutes are wasted, as he sets up the next song.

6: How Many Tears: Perfect. Nine whole minutes, a great song, good solos, the lyrics are great, and it’s a great choice to end a set. THIS IS GOOD. I even like the fake finish and total speedy climax thing they do halfway through the song.

This album could be good. I’d up my score by two points if it was trimmed of all banter by the lead singer, and if track four was replaced, and maybe one other track was added to make up for the difference. I don’t have the other two import EPs, so maybe that’s what they did. But otherwise, this is just awful. This should serve as an example to all other bands who put out a live album that we really don’t care what is on your singer’s mind. Just play your damn songs. I’m sorry this is such a low review, and for some reason, I still listen to this a lot. But it’s also trained me how to operate the fast-forward on my iPod, so keep that in mind.

This oddly-titled release is often bemoaned as being too “alternative” or “grunge” by many fair-weathered fans of the band, which is a pretty strange comparison. This came at a time when many bands were cutting their long hair and trying to move out of the strictly-defined world of metal to survive, and bands from Metallica to Tori Amos were being called “grunge” or “like Soundgarden” by disgusted purists. The funny thing is that this album was recorded in Nashville, and probably owes more to country, or at least the new alt-country sound. And it’s also produced by Peter Collins, who desked Queensryche’s two most popular albums (Operation: Mindcrime and Empire).

One thing is true about this album: it was the last studio album to be recorded by the original lineup of the band; Chris DeGarmo split after this release. (Yes, I know he came back later, but that’s not really the same.) It’s pretty clear that there were differences within the band as this album came together, and its failure to be another Empire was probably just the gasoline dashed on the fire.

This isn’t a pseudo-concept album like Promised Land, and it isn’t aimed at that kind of niche artist, either. It starts out with the slightly metal single “Sign of the Times”, and the album proceeds to trade off writing credits between singer Geoff Tate and guitarist Chris DeGarmo. The DeGarmo tracks are much more laid back and almost border on the kind of stuff you could see on CMT. Tate trades off with more socially-aware tracks like “spOOL”. The songs lyrics go “Focus on a strategy to / open up our minds and then, / together… turn another turn.” It sounds like something Jefferson Airplane would sing, but it rocks out well.

It’s worth noting to those who are interested in this shit (usually inept metal purists stuck in the past) – Geoff Tate can’t sing anymore, or at least he can’t sing the crazy operatic shit. He’s slowly lowered his ability to do this, a pack or two a day. To be fair, he can sing, and he does it well, but he’s not going to do any of those breaking-glass shrieking howls anymore. And for the most part, that stuff’s been written out. “spOOL” is a good example of how he really tries to reach his old limits, but he can barely make it. I’d hate to hear that song live at the end of a tour. The good news is that on this album, he has really started to write his stuff in a slightly lower register, and his voice still has a great tone to it. But if you’re one of those “god damn it, he hit that high note 20 years ago, what the fuck” people, I don’t know what to tell you.

And I should give an obligatory mention to the one song that’s sung by Chris DeGarmo and not Tate. It’s “All I Want”, and it’s truly horrifying. It’s like the bad b-side to an Oasis single, and it’s in your best interest to program your CD player accordingly, or remove it from your playlist, or whatever else. The only thing interesting about this song is that I’m sure it came to be because of a really huge argument, and I could imagine DeGarmo pouting “I want to sing one song or I’m going to quit!” and then locking himself in a bathroom for four hours.

Going back to this album, it really reminds me of 1997 in a lot of ways. I mean, I did listen to it constantly back then, (except for that “All I Want” song) and it’s just such a pleasant little mix of metal and a slightly more contemporary blend of pop. It came at a time when the whole grunge thing was long dead, but when metal was also completely slain by this alt-rock beast (or not). I remember at that time really stretching to find something to listen to, because I was getting bored of just re-buying old metal albums, and I wasn’t about to cash in to the electronica craze or the Smashing Pumpkins or whatever shit was going on at that moment. And for me, this album just sounded RIGHT. It was smooth, it wasn’t just a metallic collection of screaming solos, it had substance, but it wasn’t a giant rock opera or some pretentious format that would make me only listen to it twice a year. It was intensely enjoyable, and had unlimited repeat playability.

And of course, it was the last album before the group fell apart, and that’s my typical luck. But despite the fact that everyone thought this album was “Queensryche meets Soundgarden” or some insipid bullshit like that, I really do enjoy this record, and I still do, eight years later.

After the 1988 release of Operation: Mindcrime, Queensryche weren’t in a position to put on a lavish stage show or three-hour headlining concert yet; in fact, they spent their time opening for Metallica. But after the huge success of 1990’s Empire, the band had enough clout to book an extensive headlining tour, which included all of the video screens needed to produce a show that could feature the rock-opera album in its entirety.

In October 1991, EMI released a box set containing a CD (or cassette – remember those?) and VHS video of the entire Mindcrime album, performed live, along with a booklet and a box, of the “long” sort (for those of you old enough to remember CDs sold in long boxes.) This limited edition release could both be seen as a nice tribute to the fans, or a “why did they do that?” misstep, depending on how you look at it.

As far as the CD goes, it’s the entire Mindcrime album, exactly. Exactly. No extras, no bonus, no covers, just the album, and that’s it. The performance is pretty good, and it’s upbeat and doesn’t drag, plus Geoff Tate’s vocals are pretty good and aren’t scratched or busted. There are some issues with levels in places. Sometimes, a sample from the album is too quiet or muddled, or a guitar isn’t as up-front as it may be on the album. I’m sure part of that problem is that I listened to Mindcrime about 20,000 times before I heard this album, so I tend to notice all of the little bits here and there.

The video is also exactly what’s on the album. They did a good job of having lots of cameras and many angles and stuff moving, which is decent. They also captured a lot of the video projection screens, and showed clips of the story as it’s going on. It’s not as good as watching the actual videos, which are compiled together in another release, but it’s much more than just watching the band play live.

The problem? The band just came off their biggest tour ever, with all of these new songs on Empire, and all of the classic stuff from the older albums, and this box set captures only those exact songs on Mindcrime. No “Silent Lucidity”, no “Queen of the Reich”, no other tracks are added to the CD, either from the same massive 3-hour set from which this live album was removed, or from their b-sides or other catalogue. (If you were lucky enough to find the Jap release, it came with “The Lady Wore Black” and “Roads to Madness” as bonus tracks.) If I was a new fan of the band, this would be a pretty bad purchase to make, unless I bought it specifically to find out more about the prior album. It also means there’s no real reason to listen to this CD when one can just listen to the far superior studio version. In fact, I don’t think, prior to this review, I’ve even cracked the case on my copy for a good six or seven years.

There’s also a big disconnect here as far as formats. The old version was a VHS and a CD (or tape). I never, ever watch old VHS anymore, so this thing sits in the case gathering dust. But if I wanted to listen to the CD or rip it to my iPod, it’s there. This was the only version available, and despite the fact that this was a “limited edition”, you could occasionally find a new copy in the back of a music store, five years later. (I think I got mine at a Wherehouse in 1997.) But they were hard to find, and in that pre-eBay world, it meant you either had to buy a boot, pay someone a hundred bucks for a used copy, or try every record store in a thousand-mile radius.

In 2001, when their record label was performing necrophilia on their back-catalogue, Capitol re-released this box set as a regular DVD. This means you don’t have a CD, which might not work in your car or when ripping the audio to your MP3 player. But you have everything on a DVD, and they also added some bonus features, like an interview, some graphics and fan photos, and a few crumbs of nebulous information that might help you figure out the story, if you’re still struggling with who really killed Mary. I don’t know what the packaging or liner notes are like on this version, but if they are anything like the other reissues and box sets Capitol put out for the band’s other material, I’m guessing “shitty”.

But, I have the BOX SET which makes me more elite than you wankers who first got into the band in like 1999. Don’t worry, you’re not missing much. It’s a good collection, and a good intention, but I wish they would have released a 3-CD live album of the 1991 tour instead.

I don’t know that I’d advise buying a can of this stuff at your local grocery, opening it up on a piece of bread, and calling it a meal. But when I was in Hawaii, the McDonald’s had fried Spam as one of the breakfast meals. It was served with rice and scrambled eggs. Maybe it was the McD’s grill grease mixed with it, or maybe it was all presentation, but it wasn’t that bad.

A month later, I bought some at the store, sliced it, and fried it, and it was pretty horrible. So maybe I didn’t cook it right, or maybe it’s bad unless it’s at a McDonald’s. Not sure.

This book is a strange concept that sounds like it might not work – Scott Sullivan did a ton of research on the Apollo command and service modules, from blueprints and other sources, and then plugged it all into a computer program and made CAD drawings and incredible cutaways from every system. The results are truly phenomenal; every page of this full-color book is glossy and of the quality usually reserved for high-end art books costing ten times as much.

As far as detail, I felt I had enough info to start building one of these things in my back yard if the local hardware store sold all of the titanium I’d need! I don’t think the original space program had blueprints as detailed and colorful as those within the pages of this book. I am a big techno-geek, always wondering how things work and are put together, and I have spent hours and hours gawking at these drawings, looking at how heat shields are made or how astronauts stored their gear. There’s also a lot of text per page telling you what you’re looking at and how things were assembled.

This is not only a well-executed book, but a great idea for other similar books for other parts of the space program. If Mr. Sullivan announced a large-format set of plans for the Space Shuttle or Skylab, I would be the first in line, no matter what they cost!

This album is the perfect showcase of Pete Steele’s sick sense of humor coupled with the band’s ability to thrash out high-test, super-aggressive metal in a form that is both powerful and hilarious. From the orchestrated insults against Catholic school and a repressed childhood in “Angry Neurotic Catholics” to the primal energy (and incredible bass work) in “Sex and Violence”, every song on this album is of the type you want to crank up to eleven when you have neighbors you want to aggrivate. The song “Jesus Hitler”, the story of a reincarnation of the Nazi leader and the Christian messiah, is so hilarious that I had to listen to it about 863 times the summer I first got this tape. Pete Steele can SCREAM, too. His “NOTHING CAN STOP THE PAIN” in “Inner Conflict” is amazing.

The new CD version is good, with three demo tracks and some old photos I’d never seen with my original tape. I like the Type O Negative stuff a lot too, but I would not have minded another album or two in this direction. Still, this is great stuff and a must-have.

It’s hard to write one of these sorts of heavy metal confessional books for a few reasons. One is that anyone who was listening to INXS and U2 back in the day will care little about your opinions of the best Saxon album or the most authoritative Anthrax lineup. The other is that people who were into this sort of music will endlessly disagree with you about what year was the most awesome Monsters of Rock, so you might alienate them with your opinion. Nevertheless, Seb Hunter lays it all out for us here: his early addiction to AC/DC, his later worship of Iron Maiden and Hanoi Rocks, and his attempts to pick up a guitar and slam out the three chords needed for a good garage band.

Like Klosterman’s oft-compared Fargo Rock City, I didn’t entirely agree with some of Hunter’s judgements and statements. (Motorhead’s 1916 a concept album?) Maybe my background in Midwest America was different than his in England, but we both worshipped many of the same groups, so the common ground made this worthwhile. I also experimented with very amateur attempts to put together the next Metallica with bad instruments and worse musicians on a Sears tape recorder, so I applaud his ability to tell his story. This is good writing and a great bunch of episodes, although all came to a closing a bit sooner than I wanted it to. Overall, a good book if you’ve got a leather jacket in the back of the closet and still remember the pre-Nirvana days with fondness.