Thesis: Many music subgenres uniquely identify with a particular classic movie monster. By elucidating on these connections we can begin to more fully understand the essence of both.
Here we see a well-known punk rocker enjoying a… something, and his movie monster counterpart, the zombie, enjoying a… something else. Somehow the zombie’s dinner choice looks more delectable. Note that both have a vacant expression and represent nihilistic philosophies and attitudes.
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Classic rock’s ties to Godzilla are well-established due to the efforts of Blue Oyster Cult. Here we have an excellent visual representation as well. Out of the many rock sub-genres, classic rock most closely resembles Godzilla due to the musicians’ propensity for all of the following activities: 1. lumbering around like a behemoth; 2. periodically rising out of the ocean to rock Tokyo with a reunion show; 3. having - relative to upper torso and head size - an astonishingly fat ass.
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Bela Lugosi. Goth. The latter could not exist without the former. Frankly, pointing this out seems lazy.
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Thrash metal and the Wolfman have a great deal in common. In fact, on the evidence of this picture, I tend to believe that Metallica frontman James Hetfield IS the Wolfman, and he just shaves his wolf-hair to a restrained moustache-and-muttonchops combo so as not to frighten the audiences at his shows. Venturing outside the realm of Hetfield - wherever he may roam - we can see that many thrash metal musicians engage in a lot of scowling, baying at the moon, and avoiding silver (as well as gold, cash, and paychecks. The currency standards for thrashers nowadays are bummed cigarettes and 1st press, long out-of-print LPs by bands with names like Energetic Krusher).
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The resemblance between these two is uncanny: the thick, meaty cranium; the neck-bolts; the deficit of brain activity. If the visual similarities do not convince, however, it should be sufficient to observe that, like Frankenstein’s monster, Creed and all its fellow nu-alt-whatever metal bands were stitched together from stolen, long-dead body parts, and made into a gruesome concoction that vaguely resembled its source materials, but was a whole lot slower, uglier, and dumber.
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Here we have a stiff, dusty corpse wrapped in centuries-old linen rags, and the modern classical composer Phillip Glass. The mummy is the one on the left.
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4 responses so far ↓
Ryan // March 19, 2008 at 6:43 pm
Frankenstein is way more brutal, though. He actually killed the little girl, whereas Stapp only hit on one in Denny’s.
JimPanzee // March 19, 2008 at 7:14 pm
Does laughing out loud at yer blogs make me smart or sad?
specialagentdalecooper // March 19, 2008 at 7:28 pm
Er - EXTRA smart?
beetqueen // March 20, 2008 at 11:52 pm
I don’t have any witty comments here, but I just about died laughing. Milk would have shot from my nose had I been drinking milk. But I wasn’t. So it didn’t.
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