We all know I'm a real man who likes real-man rock music, unlike the types who usually post on the Friday Random Ten. One of the fundamentals of real-man rock is that everybody in the band is a man. It's a well-known fact that women just can't do real-man rock, most especially the singing. There simply is no female equivalent to Sammy Hagar, Bret Michaels, or Geddy Lee.
There's always an exception to the rule, in this case three, in order of manliness: Lita Ford, the Wilson sisters from Heart, and Janis Joplin. In each case, however, these women were backed by manly men musicians (the bong-rattling bass of Don Nossov proves this point tenfold). You could rock out to these folks and still have a virtual sausage fest.
But now I am brought low. A co-worker loaned me The Woods, by the all-woman band Sleater-Kinney. I figured I'd listen to it just so I could trash it authoritatively, but the unthinkable happened - I'm hooked. The technical skill is low, the singing is sometimes off key, and the drummer has a big booty. But still I listen, and listen.
Let's hope it's a passing phase, because I don't know how long I can take this. After listening to the Sleater-Kinneys (just the name kills me; it's like the band is a married
couple from the 1980s), I have to purify my soul with an Ozzy penance: 2 Bloodbath in Paradises, 1 Tattoo Dancer, 1 No Bone Movie, and any 3 live songs with Randy Rhoads. I just ain't got the time, man!
If you aren't so embarassed for me that you've clicked away already, I'd love for you to stoop to my level and name a band or album you're embarrassed to like. Help a brother out; it's cold out here.