OMG! Where to begin? A bubble-gum hair metal band takes on a minor Streisand gobbet ca. 1991: Words won't suffice. Hear for yourself:
From deep within the fusty bowels of the waning pop metal years is the Long Island bar band Power Surge. (Google searches offered no history.) They’re a band that understood Spinal Tap as a template and not a parody. (My wife had friends in bands like these.)
The band’s vocal stylist, Corey Bond, presents squeals that imagine a cross of Bruce Dickinson with Geddy Lee crotch-tased. His vibrato creates swells that’d splash over the deck of the Titanic. His castrato upper register is impressive and muscular though his hapless uvula had a habit of going rogue at times. Here, much of that upper register can rascally as the pitch gets flattened like linguini noodles. Poodle-cut guitarist Michael Klotz solos like a Berlitz version of Hanon finger exercises (though thankfully restrained from shopworn Van Halen tapping), and drummer Tom Pizzela (if those aren't Long Island names!) proves his metallic ecstasy by screwing his visage into an variant duck faces. No mention in the credits for the platinum crop-top bassist—perhaps he was lost in a later acrimonious Power Surge divorce. While head banging and devil horns may’ve been de rigueur for the time, between Power Surge’s and Streisand’s Prisoner, I might point my horns toward Streisand.
An appropriate soundtrack for cracking twelvers of Rolling Rock and toking pipes made in shop class. As ever at Jellyroll, love and praise for courageous effort. Pardon us for any fussiness on the part of our earholes.
2 comments:
actually, I think words DO deliver justice.
I haven't even listened to the music ('music'?) yet but i believe your epic groundhog's day RSSriff is tattooed into my brain.
you might be having too much fun,
heidi
Gotta remember to read this blog more often. Quite the gifted wordsmith!
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