I was driving with Ashley earlier today; we were rocking to Iron Maiden's The Number of the Beast
. Actually I was. She was, let's just say, a passive participant. Anyway, I was extolling tales of the great heavy metal bands of yore. When I was growing up in India, every kid who dreamed of being in a rock band, saw Iron Maiden as the embodiment of that band. In those days, Bruce Dickinson (Maiden's lead singer in the 80s) and Rob Halford (Judas Priest lead vocalist) were larger than life. They were gods! Widely revered and religiously emulated. Now as I listen to the music, it doesn't seem as heavy as it did when I was thirteen. But boy, in my teenage years they epitomized bad ass! Nowadays it seems you have to kill someone or be shot at to be a bad ass in the music world.
My love for British metal bands still continues. My newest addiction is Nymphetamine. Not a controlled substance, mind you. It is Cradle of Filth's genius of an album (I don't know how to classify this band, so let's just call it metal). I've listened to that CD hundreds of times in the past few months and still haven't tired. With this album, Cradle of Filth definitely stakes claim to being the best metal band you've never heard of.Update:
Oh, by the way, Eddie
is Iron Maiden's mascot; the zombie-like creature you see in all their album covers.
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