i confess, this chickadee was addicted to sixx at an early age. when he came prancing into my living room (courtesy of early mtv) in his impossibly tight leather pants and hair halo, he certainly did have the looks that kill. not that i wasn't tempted by tommy lee's stick twirling and vince neil's sultry soprano, nikki sixx won out because he also had the coolest name. mick mars, who rounds out the mötley crüe square, was always a bit off-putting and never in the running for my preteen affections, when i was indeed too young to fall in love. as far as my brother and i were concerned, the crüe rüled.
their 1983 shout at the devil release cemented their status on our turntables by providing us with 34:47 minutes of screaming guitar and screeching vocals. and it included a cover of helter skelter that was so amazing that when i heard the beatles' original a few years later i thought it a cheap, albeit chronologically impossible, imitation.
the years have been hard on the crüe, some might say the years have been a hot, ugly mess for them. but to me, they'll always be the guys with that weird, tribal, football player paint on their faces slithering across the stage with shimmery scarves trailing. so here is this chickadee's dedication to the way they were...back in their glamorous early days before heroin addiction and hepatitis c brought them down from their silver studded tower. meet the next metalhead, the red hot shout at the devil bag: