Album Review: Green Day - American Idiot (2004)

Since I first listened to it on a six-week road trip across the United States with my family in the summer of 2006, I have always enjoyed this album and I consider it not just one of the most influential albums of my life, but of the 21st Century so far. At the time of that road trip, I didn’t have a MP3 player yet, so all of my music was in CD form. However, the collection that I brought on the trip was pretty small. Only a couple of days into the trip, we celebrated my brother’s ninth birthday at Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky, with his presents being opened in a cheap motel room the same day. Among the gifts were a MP3 player, and a physical CD copy of American Idiot, my brother having recently expressed an interest in Green Day’s music. My responsible but never over-sheltering parents had (thankfully) given minimal thought to the Parental Advisory sticker, and had actually pre-loaded the album’s tracks onto the MP3 player, which naturally meant I was given undeclared custody of the CD. Over the next five weeks or so of what were often day-long hauls across the expanses of the American West, crammed into the back of a fully loaded Honda Odyssey whose trip odometer would eventually register a total of 10,676 miles, I listened to the album all the way through at least once, if not twice a day (and often more than that).

Only in retrospect can I fully appreciate the reasons why this album had such a profound impact on me. I was twelve years old and had only really known my parents music up to that point, so it was something new, and more importantly, felt like something that was entirely mine. Also, for the first time in my life I really started paying attention to lyrics and storytelling within songs, and with the distinct narrative structure that this album contains, it just so happened to be a fantastic starting point. Simply put, this album is the millennial equivalent of The Who’s Tommy or Quadrophenia. It is a very well-composed and well-structured rock opera which chronicles the trials and tribulations faced by the self-described “Jesus of Suburbia”, a product of the overprotected and misinformed generation of youths raised in the Ritalin-happy and mass media-dominated world of post-9/11 America. 

Aside from that, the undeniably volatile nature of America and the rest of the world during that mid-00s setting provides fodder for some fantastic standalone socio-political punk anthems within the broader narrative, which will surely lead to this album being reflected on thirty years from now the same way that the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the U.K.” is reflected on today. In terms of the album’s immediate effects upon its release, Green Day, who had never delved too deeply into political subject matter before, soon gained an edgier and more mature image which ended up re-popularizing the group after a couple of decent but under-performing albums, and eventually American Idiot would earn the band a Grammy for best Rock Album.

So let’s light this fuse and see what all the fuss was about.

1. American Idiot

As powerful as it is overplayed, this song blasts both the presidency of George W. Bush, as well as the American media for their perceived role as government propaganda slingers for the ill-fated Iraq War. With a great pounding punk rhythm throughout and a very fine guitar solo, this song is one of the best album openers of the modern age of rock, and perfectly establishes the dysfunctional setting for the narrative to come. 

2. Jesus of Suburbia

The first of two multi-part suites on the album, this track introduces the protagonist of the narrative. The title of the first part, “Jesus of Suburbia”, refers to the self-created alias of the otherwise nameless protagonist, who observes that he is just one individual out of an entire generation raised by absentee parents via “a steady diet of soda pop and Ritalin” and a barrage of harmful mass media influence, all used as a means to “normalize” their children rather than raise them directly and support their individual talents and aspirations. Jesus of Suburbia hints that this combination of behavioral drugs and disinterested parenting will backfire and lead more of his generation to drug abuse at a young age. In the second part, “City of the Damned”, Jesus of Suburbia wanders his dead-end town, lamenting that the only “education” his peers really receive comes from places like 7-11 parking lots and shopping malls, and that most of them will likely be stuck in the town well into adulthood, never amounting to anything or finding opportunities to expand their horizons. 
   Jesus of Suburbia’s rejection of the ideals set in place for his generation manifests in the third part, “I Don’t Care”, as he angrily describes his generation as being “born and raised by hypocrites”, and in part four, “Dearly Beloved”, he seeks an explanation for his feelings through therapy, with no success. By the beginning of the fifth part, “Tales of Another Broken Home”, he comes to the conclusion that continuing “to live, but not to breathe” will only lead him further down the inevitable path of his unfortunate peers. He decides to stop being a victim of the harmful authority figures in his life and leaves his hometown in search of some truth, or at least something worth living for.

3. Holiday

Another raucous punk anthem, this song’s upbeat sound disguises some serious bitterness towards post-9/11 American foreign policy, and laments “the ones who died without a name” in the ensuing chaos of war. As far as the narrative is concerned, the song’s upbeat choruses convey Jesus of Suburbia’s newly discovered empowerment and lust for life after leaving his bleak hometown for the exciting world beyond, an experience he compares to being on holiday. This song has been a distinct favorite of mine ever since I first heard the album, and just the opening riff is still enough to keep my finger away from the skip button.

4. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Holiday fades, both audibly and thematically, into this track as Jesus of Suburbia’s initial excitement is quickly replaced by loneliness and frustration as he struggles to find a real purpose to his newfound lifestyle. This track has a somewhat infamous reputation with some rock fans, as it quickly became the song that “spoke” to every angsty American teen, even as its catchiness gained it enough notoriety in the pop world to be covered by the scourge of musical decency known as “Kidz Bop”. However, both of these supposedly condemning factors unfairly marginalize the song, especially the former as the song doesn’t claim to be anything besides angsty in the first place, ultimately representing Jesus of Suburbia’s comedown from the emotional high of Holiday in the narrative.

5. Are We the Waiting

This track has a slow, almost U2-like vibe to it, and while it treads the same emotional ground as Boulevard of Broken Dreams, the song’s lyrics are much less vacantly gloomy and more introspective. This is arguably the lowest point of Jesus of Suburbia’s narrative, as he realizes that the outside world is just as fucked up as where he came from. He decides that he needs to fully shed the persona created by his upbringing, and ultimately declares, “Jesus of Suburbia is a lie”.

6. St. Jimmy

This blistering song, which starts with a bang immediately after the final note of the preceding track, is the heaviest and fastest on the album. As part of the albums as a whole, it is a welcome change after the bleak tone of the two previous tracks, but it is also one of my favorite standalone tracks as well. The introduction of this song’s titular character, who makes aggressively bold claims of his rebelliousness and exploits, into the narrative represents a turning point in Jesus of Suburbia’s outlook on life and the world. In actuality St. Jimmy is nothing more than a hedonistic alter ego created by the mind of Jesus of Suburbia, as he suppresses his emotions and avoids his insecurities in an attempt to recreate himself as somebody who will be remembered, or at least noticed by the surrounding world.

7. Give Me Novacaine

This track starts off with a relaxed, almost calypso-like sound through the verses that ties to yet another narrative shift, as Jesus of Suburbia relaxes under the influence of his alter-ego St. Jimmy’s “novocaine” of denial and “ignorance is bliss” attitude towards the surrounding world. Despite its importance to the narrative however, I’ve always considered it an unappealing standalone track.
 

8. She’s a Rebel

Repeating the St. Jimmy intro, this track blasts off right after the preceding track ends and doesn’t slow down. While not nearly as intense as St. Jimmy, the song is a very energetic and catchy punk rock love ballad, not too far removed from similar songs recorded by the Ramones. The track introduces the character of “Whatsername” to the narrative, a woman who Jesus of Suburbia is immediately smitten with, as he considers her to be the living embodiment of the anti-authoritarian ideals of independence he is attempting to live up to.

9. Extraordinary Girl

Beginning with a Middle Eastern-sounding intro of tribal drums and tabla, this song describes the brief and troubled relationship between Jesus of Suburbia/St. Jimmy and Whatsername. Jesus/Jimmy’s happiness in finding someone to relate to and care about quickly turns sour as Whatsername begins to recognize that his rebel attitude is ultimately nothing more than a facade, and his insincerity soon strains their relationship. The song’s lyrics can also be considered as a more straightforward commentary on how modern society encourages women to be strong and independent, yet simultaneously continues to impose a historically idealized image upon them, causing immense pressure on them as individuals.

10. Letterbomb

This song starts off with an odd but somewhat fitting vocal solo from real-life “Whatsername”, Kathleen Hanna, frontwoman of the influential Olympia, Washington punk band Bikini Kill. At this point in the narrative, Whatsername (Hanna) has had enough and calls out Jesus/Jimmy for his insincere rebellious facade, telling him that “nobody likes you”, and that his grating attitude has driven away any friends he thought he had. Thus the actual song begins, an energetic number with bitter lyrics presented from the self-deprecating point of view of Jesus/Jimmy, as he lambasts himself for his self-deception, and for not recognizing sooner that it was holding him back from making any real change in the world. Despite lyrics that initially might seem to heavily denounce traditional punk ideals, the song instead denounces anyone who would use those ideals for selfish or underhanded purposes.

11. Wake Me Up When September Ends

On that note, here’s another undeniably powerful song from the album, overplayed to death by contemporary pop radio. Originally written by frontman Billie Joe Armstrong as a tribute to his late father, at first glance this song has essentially nothing to do with the album’s narrative, with no distinct connections to the other tracks through lyrics or tone. Upon further scrutiny though, its placement on the tracklist could arguably represent a point where Jesus of Suburbia decides to reflect on his past, and the effects of the choices that he made along his journey.

12. Homecoming

The second multi-part suite of the album and a grand finale of sorts, this song is considerably different than it’s earlier counterpart in that the musical styles displayed from section to section are much more distinctly different from each other as the track goes on. In the first part, a mid-tempo piece entitled “The Death of St. Jimmy”, Jesus of Suburbia recognizes that his alter ego of St. Jimmy is so obsessed with the idea that the authority figures are solely to blame for Jesus’ problems, that he ignores the truth that an individual is ultimately responsible for their own actions, and what they choose to do with those actions. Jesus eradicates Jimmy’s influence through what he describes as Jimmy’s “self-righteous suicide”, and in the less aggressive second part “East 12th Street”, starts working a 9 to 5 job in an attempt to get his life together. He soon becomes dissatisfied though, and starts craving the happier times spent with his rebel “underbelly” friends. Stuck between his soul-crushing job and his unattainable desire to go back to friends he no longer has, Jesus of Suburbia begins to have a nervous breakdown. 
   This leads to bassist Mike Dirnt’s vocal contribution in the third part, “Nobody Likes You”, as Jesus vegetates at home watching television, and as he starts to feel like he’s worse off than where he began all the way back in his hometown, he recalls the things Whatsername said about all of his friends leaving him. In the fourth part, a piece with some heavy Ramones influence entitled “Rock and Roll Girlfriend” (which contains a rare lead vocal cameo by drummer Tré Cool), Jesus is contacted by one of his former rebel friends who has joined a rock band and become rich and famous. Perhaps realizing that even true rebels can become corrupted, Jesus of Suburbia, having completely re-examined his life choices, finally gives up his dreams of rebellion to return home to his dead-end town in the fifth and final part “We’re Coming Home Again”, though he does so with a distinct air of hope that is conveyed by a bombastic and triumphant-sounding finale to the song. Not only does this track as a whole reflect its counterpart brilliantly, but each portion is so memorable and enjoyable in its own right that I can’t recall the last time I didn’t listen to this track all the way through.

13. Whatsername

This introspective alt-rock ballad closes the album and the narrative with a somewhat ambiguous epilogue, in which Jesus of Suburbia reflects on his memories of Whatsername. He decides that “regrets are useless” and that for better or for worse, he will always remember his experiences and how they changed his outlook on life, leaving him a much wiser man than he would have been otherwise.

Though they haven’t yet been able to replicate the quality of this album, with the less structured 2009 followup 21st Century Breakdown or the 2012 experimental trilogy ¡Uno!, ¡Dos!, ¡Tré!, Green Day proved with 2004’s American Idiot that they were a band with both serious tenacity and talent, who under the right circumstances could create something truly special and resonant in the world of rock, and in the world of music in general. It is easily the most influential and thought-provoking album I heard during my formative years, and will always have a special place in my collection (regardless of whether or not two of its tracks made it onto a Kidz Bop album).

Top Three Tracks:

1. Holiday

2. Homecoming

3. St. Jimmy

Album Review: Ramones - Ramones (1976)

In terms of influential rock bands, the Ramones are often underappreciated. In terms of influence and their musical and lyrical content, they can easily be considered the Beatles of the late 70s, albeit a rougher, heavier, and uglier incarnation. Beyond the punk bands that followed in their footsteps, they ended up influencing everyone from metal bands like Motörhead and Metallica to 90s alternative bands like Pearl Jam and Green Day. All four original members, guitarist John Cummings (Johnny), bassist Douglas Colvin (Dee Dee), vocalist Jeffrey Hyman (Joey), and drummer Thomas Erdelyi (Tommy), were all middle-class kids who hailed from Forest Hills High School in the New York City borough of Queens, and in 1974 they formed a band that quickly brought a raw and appealing street cred to the emerging New York underground rock scene. At the time that scene was somewhat split between fans of sensitive art rockers like Lou Reed, and fans of macho proto-glam bands like KISS, but the Ramones would end up quickly attracting crowds of both, as they unknowingly began to alter the course of not just punk rock, but of all rock music, forever. Their debut album, released on April 23rd, 1976, celebrates its 40th anniversary in a little over a month, and when combined with the consideration that the Ramones were easily my favorite band for roughly the first half of my life, it seemed fitting that this album should be the next to be reviewed on this blog.

So... Hey ho, let’s go!

1. Blitzkrieg Bop

Most, if not all bands have “that one song” that is the one most often used to reference that band to the music world as a whole, and subsequently is also usually (and just as often, unfortunately) the most overplayed track from that band’s discography on the radio, television, or elsewhere. “Blitzkrieg Bop” is that song for the Ramones. However, unlike other legendary bands’ “one song”, such as “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or “We Will Rock You”, Blitzkrieg Bop has the distinction of being the very first track on its band’s very first album. If that isn’t a clear enough testament to how profoundly the Ramones influenced popular music right out of the gate, I don’t know what is.

2. Beat on the Brat

This song I also consider overplayed, but that’s my own damn fault as it was my favorite Ramones song growing up, matched only by “Do You Remember Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio?” from later album End of the Century. It’s catchy as hell, and has a simple but satisfying guitar riff structure all the way through.

3. Judy Is a Punk

This is the shortest song on the album (not a dramatically noteworthy achievement for this album), but it’s one of the better ones, the lyrics and vibe perfectly encapsulating the Ramones' status as the “misfit Beatles”.

4. I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

This song may not seem all that inspired, but it will get stuck in your head, betraying the band’s underrated pop sensibilities.

5. Chain Saw

Inspired by the 1974 horror film The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the final word pronounced mass-ah-CREE in the song), this song represents the Ramones’ very first foray into horror-influenced lyrics, which would ultimately come full circle with the Brain Drain song “Pet Sematary”, recorded for the 1989 film adaptation of the Stephen King novel of the same name.

6. Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue

The Ramones, always the mascot band for high school misfits, lament the utter boredom of most classrooms and promote the utilitarian repurposing of school supplies as mind-altering substances. I’ll take this opportunity to remind you for a moment that I was listening to this stuff before I was even in kindergarten... interpret that as you will.

7. I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement

The Ramones had the uncanny ability to make great and fun songs out of the stupidest childhood problems. To all emo bands, take some notes.

8. Loudmouth

The Ramones also seemed to have a lot of problems with people they knew, and could back up their repetitive and unpolished warnings with some great self-composed music. To all hardcore rappers, take some notes.

9. Havana Affair

Notably The Ramones' first stab at sociopolitical commentary in a discography full of that kind of thing, this song concerns a Cuban banana farmer (that particular profession clearly being chosen for the song because “banana” rhymes with “Havana”), who becomes a guide for the CIA. Catchy and to the point, though later songs would demonstrate a more refined approach and more emotional focus towards the lyrics.

10. Listen to My Heart

The Ramones seem to have at least one song about some crummy relationship on each album, though usually it’s more. Most are forgettable, with few exceptions, and unfortunately this one falls into the former category.

11. 53rd & 3rd

Bassist Dee Dee Ramone’s lyrical contributions are present throughout the Ramones’ discography. This song of his is reportedly one of the most autobiographical, concerning Dee Dee’s short stint as a hustler in a Manhattan neighborhood that was notorious at the time for it’s gay nightlife scene. It’s also noteworthy for featuring a rare occurrence of Dee Dee providing vocals during the bridge. This is one of the best songs from the album, and one of the most underrated from the band’s overall discography.

12. Let's Dance

An energetic cover of a song from 60s rock and roll musician Chris Montez, this song is just one among several great demonstrations of how throughout their entire career, the Ramones were able to amalgamate older school surf rock and pop rock music into their own heavier and more frenzied punk rock style.

13. I Don't Wanna Walk Around With You

Another song about some friend/girlfriend someone in the band had a problem with, it’s really only noteworthy for being the first song recorded for the band’s original demo tape.

14. Today Your Love, Tomorrow the World

This song, written from the extrapersonal perspective of a German child in the Hitler Youth, closes the album strong as it establishes a strong precedent for the band’s relaxed and matter-of-fact lyrical approach towards controversial themes and subject matter, which would continue for decades to come.

Though it has some mildly forgettable tracks sprinkled in amongst the jewels, the Ramones' self-titled debut album is thoroughly enjoyable to listen to. Its energetic and catchy songs are frequently repetitive, but none are particularly boring as they all go by very quickly, the longest clocking in at only 2 minutes and 40 seconds. This album, as well as the band, left a huge Queens-sized mark on the map of rock and roll history, as well as on the map of my personal journey of musical discovery. Though later albums were arguably better, this is the one that truly kickstarted the American punk rock scene, and influenced bands across all genres and nations for decades to come.

Top Three Tracks:

1. Blitzkrieg Bop

2. 53rd & 3rd

3. Beat on the Brat / Judy Is a Punk (tie)

Album Review: Dishwalla - Pet Your Friends (1995)

In picking an album to kick off the weekly album reviews on this blog, I couldn’t choose a more fitting candidate than this album by Dishwalla, one of the first bands, if not the first band that I remember listening to in my lifetime. Formed in Santa Barbara, California around 1994, Dishwalla was just one out of a plethora of alternative rock bands to come out of SoCal in the mid 1990s. They found a way to stand out though, with deep lyrical compositions and an excellent blend of heavy guitar-driven rock and well-crafted synth effects that accent, but never overpower the main instruments. Their 1995 debut album entitled Pet Your Friends, most famous for containing their biggest hit, “Counting Blue Cars”, is well-worth delving into further, as this band has a somewhat undeserved status as just another alt-rock one hit wonder.

1. Pretty Babies
This song doesn’t go all in with the synths, but they’re present enough to give a taste of what’s to come on later tracks. The intro contains a very neat bassline, and the verses are minimalist with drums and vocals taking precedence. The lyrics are pretty straightforward, outlining parental fears surrounding teenage sexuality, a phenomenon just as prevalent today as it was twenty years ago. Interestingly, there seems to be some intentional vagueness as to whose point of view the lyrics are coming from, and which side of the issue is being promoted.




2. Haze

As the video from my introductory article would suggest, the heavily synthy intro to this song has been ingrained in my head since I was in diapers. Thankfully the lyrical content, which deals with a woman going through a seemingly endless cycle of substance abuse, went right over my two-year-old head. The song has a great soft buildup that eventually gives way to great heavy bridge, and is certainly one of the most well-composed songs on the album in regard to the balance of synths and instruments.

 

3. Counting Blue Cars

The song that gave this band it’s unfair one hit wonder label, you may know it from extensive radio play in the mid-90s, or even from it’s more recent exposure in 2012 during a Season Eight episode of the television sitcom How I Met Your Mother, in which the main character reveals Dishwalla to be one of his favorite bands. The song’s lyrical content is of the existential variety, and can be interpreted as a call to re-examine one’s beliefs from the perspective of a child. A one hit wonder song? Maybe, but it’s one with quite a bit of depth, and is another track that showcases great subtle use of synths in the overall composition.

4. Explode

Another song with existential lyrical themes, though it is heavier and less synthy than the preceding track. Overall this is a solid song that contains a great rock scream towards the end.

5. Charlie Brown's Parents

This song’s another longtime favorite of mine, and is the second song that appears in the previously mentioned video of two-year-old me. The song’s lyrics critique organized religion and modern false prophets, and the instrumental portion is notable for having the least discernible synths of any track on the album. It’s style ranges from verses that have a vaguely 70s disco/techno vibe to them, to some very heavy guitar riffs during the bridge. I’ve never gotten tired of hearing this song, and I consider it a clear frontrunner for best track of the album.

6. Give

This song’s a pretty standard troubled relationship song, with the only noteworthy features being a cool synthy guitar solo and outro.

7. Miss Emma Peel

From the title and lyrical content, this song is unmistakably a tribute to Diana Rigg’s character from the 1960s British spy series The Avengers. It’s another very catchy track, with a neat little guitar chord progression after each chorus that resembles the James Bond theme.

8. Moisture

This song initially seems to start off very similar to “Haze”, but has an even longer intro full of spacey synths and distorted guitar licks. This eventually and abruptly transitions into a much faster segment, then the song returns to the slower synth/guitar mix, and ultimately closes out with another fast-paced segment. Just like “Give”, this song’s lyrics seem to reference a bad relationship, but the level of craft behind the mix of synths and guitar, combined with the lightning-fast style transitions, actually elevate the song to the point of becoming one of the most interesting and unique selections from this album.

9. The Feeder

This is another song that is clearly critical of organized religion and modern false prophets. Although it stays at a more relaxed and steady pace than “Charlie Brown’s Parents”, it is still a pretty solid track.

10. All She Can See

This is a dark and bitter track, with lyrics that suggest a tale of sexual abuse, accompanied by somber violin synths. A powerful track, but a black sheep as far as tone is concerned compared to the rest of the album.

11. Only For So Long

This is yet another song about a trouble relationship, not quite as interesting as “Moisture”, but more solid and catchy than “Give”.

12. Interview with St. Étienne

Originally meant to be a hidden track at the end of “Only For So Long”, this track is made up of a Middle Eastern-sounding synth instrumental over spoken word dialogue of a British woman, who seems to be offering some kind of social commentary on gender stereotypes. The track is very odd considering the light and catchy tone of the rest of the album, but is a neat closer and very well put together, almost sounding like tracks that bands like Tool and A Perfect Circle would record nearly a decade later.

Dishwalla remains one of my favorite alternative rock bands from the 1990s, and this album is a major reason why. Going beyond the paint by numbers power-pop song compositions that infested many of their contemporaries discographies, Dishwalla infused this album with an engaging variety of musical influences and did their best to reestablish the idea that synths in rock music could still be used as an interesting and worthwhile feature.

Top Three Tracks:

1. Charlie Brown’s Parents

2. Haze

3. Moisture

An Introduction

Welcome to The Forge. 

Formerly the name of two separate internet radio shows broadcast by Fairleigh Dickinson University students, The Forge is now the name of this blog, where I hope to continue the spirit of a project that began back in October 2011. This blog will be an independent outlet for rock and metal album reviews, as well as for editorial articles and general commentary on rock and metal news.  

For those of you who are completely new to The Forge and/or are interested in what background I personally have concerning these genres, I have put together the following "brief" explanation. 

One of the key things to understand about the genres of rock and metal music is their rich tradition of evolution. Name any modern rock or metal band and I guarantee you that the evolution of their sound can eventually be traced all the way back to the blues and jazz artists of the early twentieth century. True, the journey from Antonio Maggio to Marilyn Manson has been a long path with many forks, but the core musical elements have always remained. And whether or not the myriad genres spawned along the way have remained consistently popular, each one exists in their own niche for future generations to explore, and all are important to consider in relation to the continued evolution of the rock and metal genres. 

...Except disco. Fuck disco.

(I kid, I kid...)

As a lifelong rock and metal fan myself, I find parallels in the evolution of my own musical tastes. Many bands have come and gone from my collection of cassettes, CD’s and iPods during the past two decades, but some have remained for that entire timespan, and all were important steps in defining my personal tastes.

For example, the following video is me, at the age of two years old, dancing and singing to the songs “Haze” and “Charlie Brown’s Parents” by the late-90s alternative rock band Dishwalla:  

And this is me, about 18 years later, admitting that the video exists to the band before I went to see them perform for the first time:

I was born on April 10th 1994, in the midst of arguably the most dramatically volatile era of rock since The Beatles. As I was taking my first breaths in southeastern Pennsylvania, over 2000 miles away in Seattle, Washington, preparations were in place for a public memorial service that would be held later that day. That service was for Kurt Cobain, lead singer and guitarist of the acclaimed grunge band Nirvana, who had been found dead in his home two days earlier, his 27-year life ended by the self-inflicted combination of a drug overdose and a gunshot wound.

It has been claimed that the grunge “era” of rock music died with Cobain, and while I don’t feel that there’s any metaphysical or special distinction to my birthdate being the same date of Cobain’s funeral, I have often pointed it out as an odd coincidence that I feel encapsulates the open nature of my musical tastes, as I consider myself equally open to bands from before my birth and after it. And just as there was a grunge “era” of rock, predated by similar “eras” such as glam, punk, and psychedelic, I frequently visualize the evolution of my own musical tastes as being split into eras as well, with several distinct points along the timeline of my life that affected what I chose to listen to.

So let's take it from the top...

Era I: Born to Rock (1994-2005)

Like Kurt Cobain, my parents were both born in 1967, and while their tastes growing up differed in some respects (and still do to this day), my parents can both be definitively labeled as rock fans. My dad grew up listening to a diverse selection of classic 1970s bands such as KISS, Queen, Rush, Cheap Trick, and the Ramones just to name a few. During the glam-heavy 1980s, he opted to seek out less prominent alternative rock bands such as The Replacements and his personal favorite, The Alarm. My mom also shunned glam, spending her formative years listening predominantly to new wave rock bands including The Police, U2, INXS, and The Psychedelic Furs.

My parents were married shortly after graduating college in 1989, as the raw and stripped down energy of grunge was just beginning to leak out of Seattle into the global musical consciousness. Late 80s alt-rock groups like The Pixies, The Lemonheads and Jellyfish were soon joined by the likes of Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, and Hole. As grunge was starting to die and I was starting to live, the Larimer family music library was further expanded to include the subsequent wave of alternative rock groups like Live, Smashing Pumpkins, Weezer, and No Doubt, with a smattering of modern punk bands like Rancid and Green Day.

The best music-related childhood memories I have are centered around riding in the family’s ‘92 Honda Accord with the radio tuned to 100.3 FM, better known to Philadelphia rock fans by its unofficial callsign of Y-100. To this day I have not enjoyed listening to a radio station as much as I enjoyed listening to Y-100 as a child. To this day hearing just a few seconds of songs such as “What I Got” by Sublime, “In the Meantime” by Spacehog,  “When I Come Around” by Green Day, or “Sell Out” by Reel Big Fish never fails to give me a jolt of nostalgia.

Just as often though, my dad would pop in a cassette from a more obscure upcoming band he had stumbled across, such as Then Again, Maybe I Won’t by Johnny Bravo (produced by Ric Ocasek of The Cars, one of my dad’s 80s alt-rock staples). My dad also had (and still has as far as I know) a large collection of cassettes containing assorted songs from the bands he grew up with, the quintessential Ramones compilation Ramones Mania being the one most requested by me.

You wish your childhood role models were this cool.

For roughly the first decade of my life though, music was more of a background element. Something that was thoroughly enjoyed, but wasn’t something I felt actively engaged in. Eventually though, my journey to enlightenment began, thanks to a 2003 film starring the modern crusader of rock and metal known as Jack Black.
 

Era II: Post-School of Rock (2005-2010)

Sometime in 2005 I saw the Richard Linklater film School of Rock starring Jack Black, Joan Cusack, and Sarah Silverman. For those of you who haven’t seen or heard of this film, it’s well worth a watch for any rock or metal fan. Jack Black stars as a struggling rock musician who, after being kicked out of his own band, lands a job at a prestigious prep school by impersonating his roommate, a substitute teacher. After discovering that several of his students are very talented musicians, he convinces his entire class to form a rock band and enter a Battle of the Bands competition, with the intent of beating his former band.

Apart from giving me a newfound appreciation for some classic rock bands that I had little interest in previously, such as The Beatles, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, and The Who, the film inspired me to start playing rock music myself. Not too long after seeing the film both my brother Carrick and I stopped playing piano, and while he converted to guitar, I chose drums.

From my 45-degree toms and a crash cymbal that went perpendicular to the floor when hit, you can tell that I was an immediate pro...

A second major boost to my musical enthusiasm occurred when I attended my first rock concert at the fabled Philadelphia arena known as The Spectrum in January of 2006. The band, a locally famous alt-rock group known as Ike, played on a flatbed truck that was rolled out onto the ice after a Philadelphia Phantoms hockey game. Only a couple hundred people stuck around for the band, but the atmosphere was like nothing I had experienced before.

While writing this article I searched for photos of that concert, and found only a half-dozen or so images from Google. One of them just happens to feature a young individual wearing an orange shirt and waving a foam finger. Based on my memories of the event, and what appears to be a familiar-looking Philadelphia Flyers windbreaker on the individual’s lap, I am about 99% sure that this person is indeed me.

   Right there. ^

 

A third major musical boost came during a six-week family road trip across the United States in the summer of 2006, when I first heard the album that ended up being the first step on my path of independent musical discovery. About a week into the trip, my brother received a copy of Green Day’s Grammy-winning 2004 “punk rock opera” American Idiot and an MP3 player for his ninth birthday. Once the album’s tracks were loaded into his device, I was given custody of the physical CD, and for the next four weeks of long days in the car, I listened to it at least once or twice a day.

I was familiar with Green Day’s earlier “friendlier” work from my early childhood listening to Y100, but this new album was something different. This was far edgier music than anything I heard back in the old days, with nearly every song openly rebuking modern society and the government or covering very dark lyrical topics like drugs and suicide. I was a bit young still to fully comprehend it all, but once I had a taste of it, I wanted more.

The more things change...

For Christmas of 2006, I asked for two albums from bands that have little in common other than me discovering them both through the Internet of my own volition. The first one, Move Along by The All-American Rejects, was an upbeat and catchy indie rock album that appealed to the alt-rock preferences established in my youth by bands like Dishwalla and Spacehog. The second and more resonant album was Linkin Park’s second studio album, Meteora. Linkin Park represents an important period during my musical coming of age, not because their extremely angsty, bordering on petulant lyrical themes appealed to my pubescent sensitivity, but because musically I had never heard anything like them before.

Since about 1999 I had been almost completely out of the modern rock loop, relying on good ol’ Mom and Dad to stumble across bands more in line with their own tastes such as Audioslave or The Killers. I had no idea who bands like Korn or Limp Bizkit were, though perhaps that was ultimately for the best. With their uniquely well-crafted blend of hard rock with hip-hop and electronica influences that most of their nu-metal contemporaries could only dream of matching, Linkin Park quickly became my new favorite band to listen to.

As another important marker on my path to musical independence, Linkin Park was for me what every young music fan should and probably will find at some point: A band that their parents absolutely cannot stand. The combination of screaming vocals and rapping was a clear indicator from the start that Linkin Park would not be welcome on the family car radio.

Even if I removed the band names and album titles, it wouldn't take a genius to guess which one of these wasn't parent-approved.

Along with American Idiot, Move Along and Meteora are also noteworthy due to the fact they were the first albums that I learned to play along to on the drums (or attempted to anyway). Soon enough though, Move Along dropped out of regular rotation in my CD player, and after Linkin Park’s mediocre third album Minutes to Midnight was released in May of 2007, I quickly became anxious to find something new and more exciting to listen to.

Over the next couple of years I filled a succession of cheap two-gigabyte MP3 players with a mix of the bands I grew up with, as well as the more contemporary bands I was getting into at the time, the most prominent of which were Breaking Benjamin, Papa Roach, Saliva and Three Days Grace. My musical tastes once again began to stagnate though, as expanding my collection of songs was limited by the small capacity of the cheap MP3 players I was buying. In the early summer of 2010, after a successful first year at community college I decided to reward myself with an expensive purchase, but one that I felt I needed to continue my musical search. I purchased an eight-gigabyte iPod Touch, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Era III: Post-iPod (2010-2012)

As soon as I got that iPod, I got to work on filling it up. The summer of 2010 would afterwards be remembered as the summer when I discovered the power of heavy metal. Metallica, Megadeth, and Disturbed were my gateway bands. Disturbed in particular had enough in common with the nu-metal sound on their debut album The Sickness to pique my initial interest, but thankfully had shed that style on their subsequent albums in favor of a more classic metal sound with a slight modern edge. On the advice of some metalhead friends I initially chose to restrict my exploration of Metallica and Megadeth to the earliest four or five albums from each band, which worked out quite well as I immediately locked onto the punk rock influence that was audible in thrash metal.

During that following year I started regularly listening to rock radio for the first time in years, latching onto what would ultimately turn out to be the last year of classic rock programming from Philadelphia station 94.1 WYSP. “Classic rock” in this case meant bands from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, so the station simultaneously rekindled my interest in bands from the Y100 days like Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins, as well as encouraging me to check out groups from the 70s and 80s like Cheap Trick and Guns ‘N Roses. The two biggest 90s bands I had just gotten into around this time were Rage Against The Machine and Nirvana, but despite the presence of the latter on my musical radar, my full obsession with grunge would not commence for another full year or so.

During the fall of 2011, my friend James Louderback began attending Fairleigh Dickinson University, a school that coincidentally happened to be high on my list of potential colleges at the time. James quickly set up a heavy metal program on the college’s internet streaming radio station with fellow student Brett Deutsch. I tuned in to the unnamed show’s very first live broadcast on October 1st, 2011, and it was barely over before I was messaging back and forth with James, asking how I could get involved. The first thing the show needed was a name. It wasn’t very hard coming up with a bunch of potential names for a heavy metal show broadcast from the campus of a university whose mascot is a devil, on a station named “Hell Radio”...

After about an hour of back and forth brainstorming, I made what would turn out to be my final suggestion, “The Forge”, which I felt was a perfect description for a program where various styles of rock and metal would be combined to form something awesome. Within a day I had a logo ready, and by the time the following week’s show aired I had put together an intro and outro for the show, along with a Facebook page, which I updated live during all subsequent broadcasts. During the show’s run from October 2011 to May 2012, I was exposed to just about every variety of heavy metal in existence, some of which I liked, a lot of which I didn’t. 

James was, and still is, a bit of a metal hipster with little tolerance for modern mainstream metal. I have a longtime joke about James, regarding the likelihood that he could make a top ten list of his favorite Argentinian death metal bands, the implication being that he knows of and enjoys more than ten in the first place. Any clashes over programming were tongue in cheek though, and the show was a fun education on the broader world of metal. I had my first meaningful encounters with classic metal bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Dio, but also was introduced to more obscure groups such as White Wizzard and Hirax. 

The peak of the show occurred in April 2012, when Hirax frontman and California thrash scene veteran Katon W. De Pena gave a live interview that lasted over two hours, covering topics ranging from the state of modern metal, to criticism of music censorship, to stories of hanging out with his metalhead friends in high school, who included James Hetfield of Metallica and Dave Mustaine of Megadeth. As the summer of 2012 approached, James and I were excited for the future of the show. Brett had unofficially relinquished his co-hosting duties by the beginning of the show’s second season, and I was fully prepared and ready to join James in the studio once I started attending FDU that following August, and convert the previously metal-centric show into a full-fledged rock and metal cornucopia.

Era IV: Post-Forge (2012-Present)

Partially to prepare for the next season of The Forge, and partially because I was running out of space on my 8-gig iPod, I upgraded to a larger fourth-generation 32-gig iPod Touch at the beginning of the summer of 2012, which allowed me even greater freedom to add new music to my collection. I remember very little of that summer, probably because many of my daylight hours were spent editing the feature film I had shot with my friends the previous summer, while my nighttime hours were often spent awake until dawn, downloading the complete discographies of whatever bands I had just recently discovered. 

The two bands that most defined that summer for me were Soundgarden and Alice in Chains, which have remained my two favorite bands since that point. From my dad’s album collection I was already somewhat familiar with Soundgarden’s 1994 album Superunknown and 1996’s Down on the Upside, as well as frontman Chris Cornell’s more recent solo work and three albums with Audioslave. Once I delved further into Soundgarden’s earlier discography though, they quickly shot to my personal number one spot, and it was particularly exciting to learn that after a sixteen-year hiatus, they were releasing a new album in just a few more months. 

Alice in Chains on the other hand was completely new musical ground for me. They were a band whose music I only vaguely remembered hearing every once in a while on the radio during my childhood, as they were the only one of the major grunge bands that my parents never really got into. As far as I was concerned they were the most exciting “new” band I had discovered since Disturbed, with their combination of dark lyrics delivered by the uncanny vocal talents of Layne Staley, and the wicked distorted guitar riffs of Jerry Cantrell.

These two bands set off a bit of a chain reaction as I quickly delved into the complete discographies of familiar grunge and post-grunge bands from my childhood like Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, and Foo Fighters, and then even deeper into their predecessors like Mudhoney and Mother Love Bone. Grunge quickly became my premier genre of choice.

Those Hot Topic smiley face shirts are the bane of my existence.

Other genres were not neglected however, as I soon amassed the complete discographies of classic metal acts including Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Motörhead, and Judas Priest, punk rock groups such as Dropkick Murphys, Rancid, and Bad Religion, and classic rock acts like AC/DC, Jimi Hendrix, and the unparalleled Rush. I also went back into my parents’ album collection, to become reacquainted with bands like Dishwalla, The Alarm, and Live. In hindsight, that final carefree summer before the onset of college and my entry into the adult world wasn’t just a major transition for my musical tastes, but for my life as a whole.

Through an unfortunate combination of circumstances, my first semester at FDU did not go as well as I hoped. Among many other discouraging factors, the poorly administrated (at the time) FDU Radio Club never confirmed a timeslot for “The Forge with James & Colin” until the final week of the semester. Adding to my discouragement was the fact that James was set to start studying abroad in China the following semester, effectively destroying any remaining hope that The Forge would continue. After this and many other setbacks during my first semester I spent much of my winter break in a very dark place psychologically and emotionally.

Then two things happened in quick succession that gave me the boost I needed to press on with renewed confidence and energy. The first was a session with a therapist, and the second was the announcement that both Soundgarden and Alice in Chains were headlining the 2013 MMRBQ, the annual summer music festival hosted by Philly’s primary rock station 93.3 WMMR. Furthermore, Disturbed frontman Dave Draiman’s side project Device and Cheap Trick would be among the openers. 

Encouraged by my therapy and the prospect of the MMRBQ, I dove into my second semester at FDU with gusto and ended up experiencing the best semester overall out of my three years at FDU. The MMRBQ, the largest concert I had attended up to that point, was an amazing experience, and was soon followed by Rush and Black Sabbath shows later that summer. The Rush concert, and the drumming of the legendary Neil Peart in particular, inspired me to get back into playing the drums after I had lost interest for several years, and by the following summer of 2014 I was regularly jamming and writing songs with my guitarist friend Charlie Hudson.

I had also signed up for a radio class for my fall semester, fully intending to finally resurrect The Forge. I pitched the idea to classmate Courtnee Basista, a fellow Alice in Chains fan who I had originally met under very bizarre circumstances during my second semester at FDU, and she agreed to co-host. From that point in time two fantastic seasons of “The Forge on FDU Radio” began, and were only ended by my inevitable graduation in May 2015. Hosting and producing The Forge was the most fun and exciting thing that I did during my entire senior year, and I might even say the most fun and exciting thing I did during all of my time at FDU. By the time I graduated it was just about the only thing that could have made me want to stay in college any longer. 

 

The good ol' days...

The Forge ended up being the latest important step in my journey of musical discovery, and I never got tired of how exciting it was to discuss rock and metal music on-air, and to introduce listeners to bands that I had either grown up with or had recently discovered. By starting this blog, my intent is to keep the spirit of The Forge going and hopefully expand the word of its mission to an even larger audience than that of a humble college radio station.

That mission was, and still is:

1. To give exposure to a wide variety of rock and metal bands, new and old, well known and unknown.

2. To contribute, in whatever small way possible, to keeping these genres alive and well in the public’s musical consciousness.

3. To help rock and metal fans everywhere discover new milestones on their own musical journeys.

We hope you will continue to “tune in”, and rock ON!