I am listening to a cover of Guns N Roses “Rocket Queen” as performed by a punk band called “Bleeding Through“. It’s a little known secret that RQ is one of my favourite GnR songs of all time. I get my rock on every time I hear it, often put it on ‘repeat’ in the car and generally revert back to my high school self at the sound of the first few chords. I admit to my dorkiness; it’s all good. If there was a way for my flesh to spontaneously coat itself in black eyeliner, I’m sure the song would end with me smeared in it.
(To be honest, 90% of songs by GnR get announced as “oh! this is one of my favourites!” when they show up in a playlist..)
I’ve been carefully nurturing my long-standing love for GnR since after The Spaghetti Incident was released. When the band exploded and Axl promised a new formation for the group and a new album, I was cautiously optimistic. When said album (known as “Chinese Democracy”) was delayed, then delayed again, then delayed for another few years, I pretended to understand. I knew there was a good chance the new album would suck some serious balls – but I wanted to give my buddy the benefit of the doubt. While Coffee would work himself into hysterical laughter at the addition of “Buckethead” to the group, I’d shrug it off.
I knew it in my heart: Axl would return and make me happy again.
And then I heard a few of what were touted as “leaked” releases of new GnR songs.
In fairness, I’m assuming there’s more work to be done on them. The quality sounds like someone was holding a cassette recorder up to a closed studio window. There’s a lot of noise to the various tracks. There’s mumbling in some spots that I’m pretty sure didn’t come from the band itself.
But ohmygod, it hurts to listen to the songs. It’s excrutiating. It’s not Guns N Roses by any stretch of the imagination – one song sounds like it could be classed as “adult contemporary” and another is so full of incomprehensible shouty-mumblings as to imply that the lyrics were made-up spontaneously. Axl’s voice warbles and wobbles – intentionally? unintentionally? who knows! – and there are spots where it sounds like he doesn’t have the power to continue and, so, he just starts doing the patented Axl scream. Even if they clean up the tracks and balance all the various noise out? I have no hope left.
My inner teenager is having a complete nervous breakdown over the possibility of letting go of my precious love for Axl Rose. You’ll have to excuse me if I lock myself in my room and listen to RQ for a few hours while dramatically crying into my pillow. I can easily comfort my inner child, but that teenage one is a handfull who keeps giving me the finger when I suggest she take some deep breaths and, for god’s sake, take off that gaudy red lipstick.
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