When one the best hard rock albums of all time came out, I was but a young, impressionable girl.I was still well behaved back then, for the most part. I had poisoned my mind with light pop such as Celine Dion and Tiffany. I had started to reach my tentacles tentatively into the exciting vibrations of the long haired rockers that were popping up all around me.But until I experienced Appetite, well, I had no idea what real hard rock was.I recall walking into the music store and finding the plastic encased tape that would change my music listening experience forever. I also recall my mother questioning the warning labels of explicit language and other such things. I assured her it was fine. Somehow she went along with it.
That moment when I unwrapped the case, slipped that tape out, snapped it into the two plastic wheels inside my Walkman, then pressed play…
My blood pumped faster, electric energy seethed through my veins, a touch of fear, sexual excitement, and rapid rage ran through me in a toxic concoction. I had never heard anything like this in my life. At first, I didnt know what to think. After devouring the entire album several times over, I was addicted. These wild men said what they wanted, when they wanted. Hell, the whole whole world was listening to them.
To this day, most days in my life see me consuming at least one track from their raging repertoire. Back then, I found the lead guitarist both beastly and intriguing. I still do. I’ve had the amazing opportunity to see him play on several occasions. He’s still intriguing and mystical as he slithers across the stage strumming off guttural guitar riffs that seep into my very core. The first time I saw him in a new lineup that he’d created, I told the group of guys I was with that we coundn’ be late.
What?
Yeah.
My love for reading seeps into the lives of the rock gods I adore. I knew how much Slash hates to start a show late.
The pre show drinks poured. I pestered the group to move not caring if I was a nag. This was slash after all. As I slithered my pleather clad legs along the front row of the balcony in would cling to, trying not to block the view , I noted that at one minute past start time, we were late. Slash was right on time. So you may question my association of professional with Slash, but he always starts a show right on time, he performs until the crowd is spent, and he never ceases to amaze with out of this world guitar solos.
When he walks out on stage I still feel that jolt of electric energy, my insides cave to the raw riffs vibrating from his guitar and I still wonder what is really behind those luscious dark curls.
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