Def Leppard - Pyromania

The trick is to be able to convince those of you snickering right now that Def Leppard’s Pyromania is worthy of a 5-star review, even though the album has sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. alone

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But I get it, and I understand that sales don’t always translate into worthy records, but you’d be surprised at how often they really do.

To start with, I think it’s best to acknowledge that Def Leppard set out to make a commercially viable record, something that transcends the hard rock corner they had been placed in. Because Pyromania is an album that strategically tries to break out of that mold in order to get a larger audience, and if you’ve read about the band’s hometown of Sheffield, you understand why that was an important thing for them.

That blueprint, which probably wasn’t even discussed in much detail, is based on the band’s prior work with producer Robert “Mutt” Lange on High ‘n Dry, which is actually a record that I prefer over this one. Regardless, High ‘n Dry gave the band a chance to work with the same producer that worked on AC/DC’s last three records at the time. AC/DC was the band that they were always compared to in terms of riffs and content, so the match made sense.

It also made them rich. But because Mutt Lange is such a bitch of a guy to work with, it would have been easy for them to say “Fuck it!” and find someone else to man their follow up, someone with a more pleasant demeanor and a less strict work ethic.

They didn’t. And Lange took the opportunity to not only drill the band into an obedient bunch of rock and roll workers who took every ounce of criticism to heart, indulged in every bit of studio window dressing that he conjured up, and delivered on every take that was asked of them, prompting Lange to supplant a normal count-off with “Gunter glieben glauchen globen,” just to bring some levity to the insane number of takes he demanded.

But a producer can only be as good as the material that he’s asked to work with, and in that regard, Def Leppard provided him with 10 cuts that were strong enough to capture an audience, even in their most basic form.

They run the gamut of the obligatory rock anthem “Rock Rock (‘Til You Drop”), which gives teenagers a pass for being a bit naughty, because “Your mama don’t mind what your mama don’t see!”

We took those words to heart during the summer of 1983, where this album and Prince’s 1999 shared equal blockbuster billing, blaring out of every car window that cruised Main Street as some point on Friday and Saturday night.

It’d be easy to suggest that my high praise for Pyromania is only the result of soft focused nostalgia, and I’d be willing to give that criticism some validity. But then I’m reminded of the fact that we’re no longer speaking about bands like Autograph or Britny Fox today, and it rests upon the reality that both of those bands-and any other band that attempted to follow Def Leppard’s lead on pop rock appeal-simply did not have the same amount of really good songs to work with.

Even the ballads are better than they should be, with “Too Late For Love” being a prime example. There’s the riff, the stupid Mutt Lange sound effects, and then there’s the tale of a woman who gives it up too soon. Elliot brings no sympathy to her plight, declaring “When it comes to playing life/She always plays the fool,” giving thousands of teenage boys a reprieve for their complete lack of warmth in chasing after the ladies while giving those very same women a song that they can relate to in the slow tempo package.

On the cut “Rock Of Ages,” Elliot declares that “it’s better to burn out than fade away,” but after kicking guitarist Pete Willis out of the band just prior to the recording of Pyromania for excessive drinking, it’s hard to take that claim very seriously. This was a band that enjoyed the success that their previous album High ‘n Dry very much, and after seeing the bump in pay that Mutt Lange helped secure for them, they were very willing to sober up and tolerate the producer’s unhealthy attention to detail.

Except for Willis, of course, who’s termination provided an opportunity for Phil Collen to come into the fold, take off his shirt, and similarly enjoy the windfall of cash that was about to fall in his lap.

I’m still working from the original cd pressing, which is a step-up from the original music cassette that I originally had. It’s plagued with Lange’s now-dated production and I have no idea if the re-mastered version sounds any better, but I’d be surprised if it does. Amazingly, for an album that’s emotionally and sonically tied to the 80’s, Pyromania remains an enduring piece of heavy pop rock that satisfies both men and women tied to the decade it represents while finding a new audience for their offspring who are already going through the same dramas that this record agelessly documents.

Def Leppard's Outer Groove Message

From the mailroom comes this question from a Glam-Racket visitor:

“Bought Pyromania on LP when it was new. Just outside the center label but before the grooves, the phrase, "If you're gonna be a bear, be a grizzly" is written in the vinyl, apparently done by hand with some sort of hot-enough-to-mark-vinyl stylus. I haven't seen it for 25+ years, but even at the time I thought it was unusual. Any insight? It may exist on every copy for all I know, but I've never seen anything like it on another LP.”

Me? No idea about the origin of that Def Lep note, but I’ve venture to guess it came from the character Mad Dog in The Cannonball Run.

Somehow, that movie seems up Def Leppard’s alley.

Indie records were plum filled with outer groove notes on the vinyl. I’m fairly certain the wax job is legit and at the behest of the band.

I do remember that Def Leppard at the end of “No No No” from High ‘n Dry had a lock groove where Joe Elliot’s scream of “No!” would repeat endlessly. I know this because it played at a party my next door neighbor’s place once and someone forgot to take the needle off the record. When I went in to investigate, I noticed one of my neighbor’s friends sitting drunk in a chair, bobbing his head in unison with each yell.



SST used to put messages in the outer groove of a lot of their vinyl stuff. I just got done reading Joe Carducci’s Enter Naomi where he referenced an old Black Flag record where they praised the “generosity” of the female supporters of Torrance, California.

“Torrance Tang…It’s Happening!”

Thanks, I'm Just Browsing

I had about an hour to kill while waiting for them to re-install the cd/mp3 player in my 4Runner, so I wandered around the Best Buy store to pass the time.
For record store day, I did a little article on record stores-which turned out to be an excessively long article that reminisced the importance of those places while honestly acknowledging that I don’t miss them much any more.
There was a long-standing dream that I had where I wanted to run a record store, but who didn’t? The plan was to open up one in Macomb, Illinois-a small college town in West Central Illinois that may have had a record store already, if I recall. I just remember visiting the community once where everyone was in the town square for some celebration. Most of the stores were open to take advantage of the traffic, but the record store was suspiciously closed.
This seemed unbelievably stupid.
So the business plan was to be open during local events and to make sure that every Beatles album was in stock. I was convinced that eventually, people would want to buy every Beatles album ever made.
What stopped me? The owner of the Record Collector.
Actually, he never came out and discouraged me. In fact, it was just the opposite. We were having a conversation once and I was telling him how lucky he was and how I wanted my own record store too. I jokingly said “I would totally buy your store if you ever wanted to sell it.”
Not even a second past before he replied “I’ll sell it to you if you want to buy it.”
I thought he was joking at first, but he was dead serious.
I became suspicious.
Anyone who wanted to sell their established record store that quickly clearly knew something that I didn’t and what was known was probably not that good.
Looking back now, of course, I’m very glad that my “I want to own a record store” dream never made it out of the bullshitting stages.
But back to Best Buy…
I’m walking through the cd section, which if you haven’t been there in a while, you’ll be amazed at how small it is lately. For real: the fucking Blu-Ray DVD section is now competing for its floorspace, and I’m not totally convinced that Blu-Ray is even a legitimate product.
Nonetheless, I slowly make my way through the alphabetized sections just like the old days and not once does anyone approach me. Even the Best Buy staff stays clear of the cd section!
And no wonder: there’s barely anything there nowadays.
I tried to go about the section with a blank slate, looking for anything to jump out at me, but nothing managed to grab my attention.
I thought about Def Leppard’s High ‘N Dry for a moment, but got pissed at the band when I saw that they’d recently released a “deluxe Legacy edition” of Pyromania.
Asking price?
Twenty-two fucking dollars.
Understand, Pyromania was in everybody’s car stereo when it was first released. Everybody’s. You could not drive down Main Street without hearing the ending of “Too loud man! Too loud!” from “Rock Rock (‘Til You Drop)” from someone’s cassette desk. Or “Said welcome to my shooowww!” from “Stagefright.” Or the “Gunter glieben glauchen globen” opening of “Rock Of Ages.”
By the next summer, I was done with Pyromania and Def Leppard.
But High ‘N Dry is a good album. Really good. The last really good Def Leppard album.
Not that Pyromania is bad-I already own it on cd, actually-but it was just the idea that it needed to be revisited, remastered, and reissued as a special edition. It was sterile enough when it was originally released, why did they need to compress it further under the guise of a “deluxe” edition?
Bonus tracks? Well, there is a second disc of a live show from that time period, but no b-sides, outtakes, or demo material.
And for all of this, they’re charging over twenty dollars?
Fuck off!
I made my way to the Jethro Tull section.
That’s right. I said Jethro Tull.
Specifically, Songs From The Wood, Living In The Past and maybe Heavy Horses. Then I’d be done with Jethro Tull.
All Best Buy had was the obligatory Aqualung and multiple copies of greatest hits compilations. They also had some live disc from a Jethro Tull from a few years ago, which I thought was pretty pointless. To be totally honest, I actually saw the show-or something similar to it-just a few weeks ago, which got me into the Jethro Tull section to begin with.
But thanks to a diminishing inventory, there would be no Jethro Tull purchases tonight.
Throughout the aisle, I kept noticing cds packaged in boxes with eco-friendly shopping bags. You know, the ones you’re supposed to bring to the grocery store with you. At first, I thought that maybe the bags featured the name of the band or artist-but no, they are just standard issue green bags with some recycle logo that even grocery stores themselves have moved away from.
It didn’t look like there was any jewel case in the box either.
Did you catch that?
It’s housed in a fucking box! Just like those long-boxes that they did away with two decades ago for environmental concerns! So here’s an “eco friendly” item packaged in a very non-eco friendly way with a music cd that really has no connection with the shopping bag whatsoever. Who approved this?
And the cds that you can get? Usually they’re greatest hit compilations (big surprise) of artists like Pat Benatar. Hit me with your best shop(ping bag)!
Moving down from the B section, I noticed an album that I hadn’t seen in years, Crosby Stills Nash & Young’s 4 Way Street, a double live album that I had no intention of actually buying, but I wanted to gander at anyway.
Asking price?
$27.99.
Now this is a double album, but $27.99 is just dumb.
This wasn’t a re-issue. There were no bonus tracks. This was a case of a long-forgotten album that is collecting dust, living in an era where cd sales are almost non-existent because of the perception that cds are overpriced pieces of filler.
And here was CSN&Y proving exactly that.
At this stage of the game, there’s no reason for this or any other title that doesn’t boast some matter of collectability can’t be marked down for quick sale. If that $30 copy of 4 Way Street hasn’t sold by now, it isn’t going to.

These Go To Eleven

I recently did a review for a newly acquired purchase of Rhino’s Heavy Metal Box. The review is over at Glorious Noise, but I wanted to do a little companion piece here, sort of an “it’d be cool if the box set had this” list.
Without getting into the usual suspects (Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, etc.), I thought it would be good to throw out a couple of tracks that would have added to the set for me. Consider that these tracks are by no means scientifically considered; I don’t imagine they would have much relevance for anyone except me and my reasons for inclusion are entirely superficial.
Motley Crue “Shout At The Devil”
I didn’t even notice the Crue was missing until I got the thing and started listening to it. I kept expect to hear something, fuck, even “Home Sweet Home,” but no. There is not a goddamn Crue song to be found here and those pieces of shits should be ridiculed for not being included. I can only imagine that it has something to do with money as they obviously parlayed financial struggles into a superficial reunion tour, even though they had to prop up Mick Mars throughout the entire run.
Seriously, you can’t discuss 80’s metal, include a piece on the entire Sunset Strip scene and not have a fucking song by Motley Crue! I remember Brad Brode coming to school in ’82 and showing a bunch of people at lunch a rock magazine with an ad for Too Fast For Love. It was based on the same picture that they used for the record sleeve: the one where all the members are dressed up all leathery in front of a huge pentagram. That image alone was enough for Brad to go “I’m going to get this” and, true to his word, he did. We went over to his house after he got it and I think I may have been the only one turned off by Vince Neil’s voice and Roy Thomas Baker’s strange production values. It sounded much weaker than I expected. When you have pictures of the band posing in leather, fire and pentagrams, you logically expect them to be totally brutal and not glammy. They won me back with Shout At The Devil and I did eventually come around to Too Fast, but Shout remains the band’s pinnacle and is deserving of some inclusion on Heavy Metal Box.
Autograph-“Turn Up The Radio”
I know, I know. Its total cheese and very little meat. This hard-rock anthem was (obviously) a one-hit wonder, but it was one of those songs that, when you heard it, you knew it would be huge. I went to a kegger once during high school out at this place called the sand pits just south of town next to the Des Moines river. It was like that kegger scene in Dazed & Confused except Autograph’s “Turn Up The Radio” was playing as I walked up to the party. Regardless of how stupid this song is, you’ve got to admit, that’s a near-perfect celluloid moment.
Helix-“Rock You”
See “Turn Up The Radio.” Another kegger, another anthem. This time it was indoors and someone had the good sense to throw in a Helix cassette. Perhaps a little more rockin’ than Autograph, but just as stupid. With it’s moronic chant of “Gimmie an R-O-C-K! Whacha got? (Rock!) And Whatach gonna do? (Rock You!),” and a name that’s equally stupid (Helix? Like a three-dimensional twist or a DNA helix?), you get exactly what you’d expect with a song called “Rock You.” I vaguely remember the video for this and, if I recall correctly, the lead singer had a tooth missing.
Def Leppard-“No No No”
I’d even take “Let It Go,” “High ‘n’ Dry,” “Lady Strange”…but “No No No” reminds me of yet another party (see a pattern?). This one was Bobby H.’s, a next-door neighbor that loved Kiss and other things metal. His parents were out of town and his older sister “supervised” a makeshift drinking party. For one partygoer, I’ll never forget this, the sound of Def Leppard’s High ‘n’ Dry album was enough to get him to sit on the couch in his denim jacket and bang his head in time to the music. Bobby was playing the record version, and at the end of “No No No,” there was a lock-groove where Joe Elliot’s yell of “No!” is repeated over and over, without stopping. This didn’t stop our drunken metalhead from trying to match him, stopping only when someone removed the needle and replaced the record. I think they replaced it with Kiss’ Lick It Up and I left the party as a result.
Kix-“Midnite Dynamite”
If you’re going to include fucking Poison in the Heavy Metal Box then for fuckssake, you’ve got to include Kix. Those guys completely lifted Kix’s stage show, which sucks because Poison couldn’t hold a candle to Kix musically and the only thing that brought Brett Michaels more notoriety than Kix vocalist Steve Whiteman is that he was cuter. So while Poison moved to L.A. to get closer to the major label’s tit, Kix continued to tour up and down the East Coast, endlessly and thanklessly paying their dues with little national recognition. A few of us did notice, particularly after one of the music channels played a Kix club performance during their support of Cool Kids. That album doesn’t rock as hard as Midnite Dynamite, which should’ve sold more copies than Look What The Cat Dragged In.
Any one of those songs would’ve appeased me more than, say, Manowar which is blessed with a spot on Heavy Metal Box with a song that contains the line “May your sword stay wet/Like a young girl in her prime.” Horrific. And metal shouldn’t be horrific. Stupid? Sometimes, but never to the point where the band is trying to convey some kind of Medieval imagery and is forced to include a line like that.

Holy Diarrhea! Dio Rips On Vivian Campbell

And here I thought that Ronnie James Dio was this tiny, nice dude who always seemed to speak with an important delivery like he was way aware of metal’s perceived retardedness.
So how refreshing is it to see him acting totally metal, dropping f-bombs and publicly ripping ex-Dio band member Vivian Campbell. In case you’re wondering, Vivian Campbell was also the dude that replaced the dead dude in Def Leppard and who shouldn’t be confused with the blonde dude that replaced some other dude who got kicked out after High ‘N Dry.
To clarify again: Vivian Campbell is the brown, curly haired guitarist that currently makes the fair circuit with the rest of the 80’s revival circuit.
I guess there was some bad blood when Campbell lodged the following on October 29, 2003: “Even now I still get these guys coming up to me going 'Duuuuuuuude!', giving me the DIO devil sign and yelling 'Holy Diver!!' and 'Rainbow In The Dark, whoo hoo!!' and it's cool that they remember it, but that music never mattered to me — and still doesn't." Campbell went on to state that Dio was “awful businessman” and called him “one of the vilest people in the industry."
Fast forward to March 30, 2007: after the Heaven and Hell show at Radio City Music Hall, Dio spent time signing autographs with fans outside while someone videoed the moment. In the video, a fan mentions to Dio, "I saw Vivian Campbell about a year ago…" only to have Ronnie cut him off with: "Oh, you poor son of a bitch!” He then throws out some harsh ill-will and gives a few choice words regarding Def Leppard (”There’s a fucking rock band for you to fucking have diarrhea with!”).
It’s wonderful, and I appreciate Dio more after watching it.