There are songs that just cue into the
male psyche. Last night, I heard Nazareth's “Hair of the Dog”
come on and I just naturally started to head bang to it. It's an OK
song, nothing spectacular about the arrangement or such. What is
great about it is it's raw amperage. Plain power. You can say that
about Led Zeppelin's “Whole Lotta Love” or Ozzie's “Flying High
Again.” Or try Bad Company's “Ready For Love” which sounds
menacing with it's subdued threat. These songs all are just pure
current ripping through the wire. It's what testosterone sounds like.
I heard an interview with Eddie van
Halen describe his style and he called it “brown sound.” It's a
phrase idiosyncratic to him but I get it. Pure amperage, confidence
and full of ready fight.
You've seen regular guys when they get
ramped up, pure tough guys threatening the world, usually after a six
pack on a hot, humid night. In many cases it's comical because what
they're complaining about is trivial. They get ticked off by the
slightest thing. “You sat in my seat! Or “What are you looking
at?!!” But, you don't have to get to that silly point to feel the
Alpha Male come out. I'll tell you girls this, it's a great high to
feel when it does. In a single word, confidence. You know
things will go well, what ever it is. If not, you'll make it go well.
It's one of the reasons why the kids in
the US Army, who fought in Iraq, made playing lists of hardcore rock
on their MP3's to play when they rolled out of camp into the hell of
Baghdad's streets. It builds you up.
**
Silly buffoon guys who rip their shirt
off threatening to beat up the whole world are jerks,but,
to be able to control that Alpha gorilla and hone it, be art-like
with it...that's a true display of maleness, in my estimation anyway.
The trick to posturing like a gorilla, is to use it sparingly. I
swear, I can hear that in some songs and resonate with it.
No, there will be no Alan Alda feminism
here, which has a place sure, but I'm talking the enjoyment of raspy,
grating sounds coming from a distorted guitar. The Alan Alda
Masculine movement is for another time to discuss. I don't think Alda
would like the opening guitar riff to “Stranglehold” by
Nugent...wait! No more talk of Alda! (Who I actually do like, for
other reasons)
Shit, now I have to
bring this up since I'm on it. Camille Paglia, a feminist who also
critiques the same movement as well, once told of a story of what it
feels like to be male. She had learned of a study where a group of
women were placed on testosterone injections for a month. By then,
they had the same amount of that hormone that was pulsing through
most 18 year old boys. One of the participants said she understood
men far better when she was cut off in traffic once.
“I yelled through the windshield at
the guy...I chucked my finger at him and wanted to chase him down.
The civilized part of me took control again though...but what a wake
up call! I knew what it felt like now.”
Alan Alda would be the “gentleman”
version of masculinity I guess. Don't go all Viking on people every
time you feel like it.
**
Do you remember Boom Boxes? Those
oversized radio/cassette deck players that took 8 sized D batteries
that ran down quick if you played too many cassettes? I do.
I was probably 19, we were walking from
the One Way in Slater Park, on our way to McCoy stadium to watch the
annual fireworks display on July 3rd night. It was hot,
humid and we were especially buzzed more so because summer drinking
does that to you. On our way down Columbus ave we came across another
crew, perhaps a Columbus ave crew and of course, a bunch of late teen
guys in their ape mode, we postured with one another. The looks,
pithy comments and face to face, eye to eye looks were all there.
They were all on some porch, we on the sidewalk passing by, each
looking directly at one another.
As we passed, we had a Boom Box blaring
out Black Sabbath's “Heaven and Hell” and I was in a great mood.
Tonight was going to be epic, parties all over, fireworks and hell,
I'm 19 and “Heaven and Hell” jazzes you up easily.
I don't recall the comment the other
group of guys made. But, because I felt so confident and the music
was shoring that up, I turned, walked up the front path, climbed the
stairs to the porch and pointed my finger at them and said...
“YOU'RE...not going to do
anything...ARE YOU?”
I scanned each and every one of them
and their eyes fell to the porch floor. That's all I wanted to do and
see happen. I then climbed back down to join my droogs. By that
time, “Heaven and Hell's” second main verse came up (which just
races along faster) and we boys were all high five-ing one another
and I felt like I was Emperor of the World.
What's funny, I usually wasn't like
that at all. I mostly am never on DEFCON 1, but the right music, the
right night, brimming with confidence and full of life...I felt no
fear whatsoever.
Talk about endorphin rushes...perhaps
even heroin doesn't feel like that when it first flows into your
brain.
So, last night at the red light, “Hair
of the Dog” had me whomping my head back and forth...but at 52 I
wasn't about to act on that feeling I had once again, but it' still
there and it felt good, even though this confidence gets me called
“asshole” at times. Time to send me to an Alan Alda Re-Education
Camp?
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