If it's 2011, that means that:
A. Children of the 90s will start infiltrating your bars and buying up your Smirnoff Ice, Twisted Tea and Jaegermeister.
B. America makes another step towards that More Perfect Union by breaking the Orange Barrier and swearing in the first Speaker of the House to match the hue and tone of an Ooompa-Loompa.
C. We celebrate the 25th Anniversary of the Golden Era of the Hair Band
D. All of the above.
If you haven't figured it out by now, anytime "All of the Above" is listed as an option, it's the correct one. But with all due respect to Speaker Boner and a new generation of barflies that we can only hope are more tolerable than the children of the Eighties, I'd rather focus on the Silver Anniversary of an era that lasted just long enough to make an impact without going overboard and becoming a joke like disco did.
Alright, I'm looking back with (Axl) rose colored glasses. It was a bit of a joke. But a damn good one. I love the hair bands and glam rockers and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Who else but the likes of Enuff Z'Nuff and Slaughter could put a romantic gloss on suicide and overdose? Who else but Poison could capture the mental angst and issues of a Vietnam Veteran? Who better than the Scorpions than to overshadow the empty platitudes of Ronald Reagan and tell the masses what the fall of the Iron Curtain really meant? For a select slice of the populous, these Masters of Mullets groomed our emotions, teaching us how to love, hate, fear, respect, mourn and thrive.
I define the beginning of the era as the first time Jon Bon Jovi bought a can of Aqua Net, and the end likely came not long after Kurt Cobain said "Hey, wanna get high?" for the first time. But looking back to a time I remember all to well, the golden age of the hair band began in 1986. While I was home sick with bronchitis watching the Challenger go boom on my 9th birthday, the music world was being prepared to be rocked off their asses with releases such as Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet, Poison's Look What the Cat Dragged In, and Europe's Final Countdown and Somebody was making millions selling blow to Adam Curry.
For the remainder of the decade, we were treated to an all out blitz of boobs, hair, lipstick, cars and any other vice you could think of before rock decided it hated itself and wanted to die.
To honor these quasi-cross dressing men, I humbly begin my definitive countdown of the 25 Greatest Power Ballads. I'll get into criteria at a later date....
#25: HIGH ENOUGH, Damn Yankees (1990) - Sneaking in at the tail end of The Hair Age, something tells me that psycho gun-nut survivalist Ted Nugent isn't exactly encoring his Sean Hannity Concerts for Freedom, Jesus and Troops with this tune. Also, in true hair band fashion, the video (about robbing a liquor store and engaging in a hostage situation) has absolutely nothing to do with the lyrics.
#24: CARRIE, Europe(1986) - Apparently Europe is still huge in, well, Europe. They're even planning a tour and new album this year. I'm going to try and book them for my Fantasy Football Draft this summer. As long as they stick solely to songs from The Final Countdown. Especially this classic. When lights go down.
#23: FLY TO THE ANGELS, Slaughter(1990) - I was shocked to discover that frontman Mark Slaughter's given name was actually Mark Slaughter. Can't say the same for Tracii Guns or Chip Z'Nuff (and Messers Axl Rose and Jon Bon Jovi aren't exactly going straight off the birth certificate). I don't know if Mark's father was a Sergeant though. Here's our first song about suicide-and/or-accidental death, and I'll kill the suspense, no pun intended, and let you know that Kix's "Don't Close Your Eyes" just missed the cut. I had it at #28.
#22: WHEN THE CHILDREN CRY, White Lion (1987) - You may prefer to take your lessons from a crackhead like Whitney Houston telling you to believe the children are our future. Me? I'd rather be condescended to by a bunch of Danes. Then again, 1987. I was 10. Was I the child that cried?
#21: TO BE WITH YOU, Mr. Big (1991) - I remember a friend of my father's started dating a woman who looked just like the dude who sings for this bad. Shared many a chuckle at that. Anyway, whether you were making a movie or writing a song back in these days, there was one can't miss recipe for success: A plea to a beautiful woman who at the time was involved with a complete and utter asshole. Never failed.
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