All male and all white, the heroes of '80s metal dressed like chicks to get chicks remember the old adage The closer to God, the greater the groupies? For the record, the distinction of Biggest Hair went to Jim Gillette, singer of Los Angeles' Nitro, whose six-octave pipes also reached the heavens (he shattered glass imported crystal wine goblets, to be exact).
Loosely categorized into themes, American Hair Metal starts with the genre's beginnings in the '70s and takes you through all the sex ("Never fuck on balconies, especially if you're drunk," once warned Warrant's Janie Lane); drinking ("Puking is the second best release to orgasm," said Bach); and drugs (there's an entire timeline of Nikki Sixx's famous last words). Also titillating is commentary on cross-dressing ("It takes a real man to wear makeup," proclaimed Poison's Brett Michaels) and band beefs (Poison vs. Guns N' Roses, Dokken vs. Dokken).
Of course, it's always saddest when bands announce their own greatness and guarantee longevity. Quiet Riot's Kevin DuBrow might not have said "I'm not worried about our audience disappearing, because we can always count on our fans" if he knew he and the boys would one day be playing at a nudist colony in Michigan. Funniest, though, are the lyrics, and Blush has dug up some real beauts, like "Gonna drive my love inside you/ Gonna nail your ass to the floor" by Great White. Tugs at the heart, doesn't it?