When I first heard this album, I was arguably at a point in my life where I could not consistently produce coherent, rational thoughts -- after all, I was eight! -- but the fact remains that this was, indeed, my first taste of rock 'n' roll. The above artwork is somehow a preserved relic from my stubborn little days as a child artiste. I'm not sure why I still have it, but it's kind of interesting. Even more interesting, in retrospect, is why my parents let me listen to this, of all albums. I suppose this accounts for my omnipresent devilish grin in all matters unholy and my sincere lack of decorum in anything regarding social order.
Ok, so the album -- nostalgic waffle aside -- is exceptionally good, despite the soon-to-be ridicule I already anticipate receiving from two otherwise splifficated musical fiends. This is where Slash the guitar god makes his first entrance and more notably, where GNR totally snorts rock and roll from off a table and trashes your living room. But enough of its historical import -- this album rocks. You know when an album starts with a doozy such as "Welcome To The Jungle" that awesomeness is in store for your ears. Hell, that's all you need to hear, I think, with its brazen taunts and indomitable menace -- how could this not be the future of rock? And who said rock was dead? Ok, this was 1987, the year of the mush, the long scuttlebutt and dreck accumulated from an otherwise useless and musically soulless decade (Fuck you Depeche Mode! Fuck you Tears For Fears!). Just as well, this is a mite better than the homogenized rock we have posing as the real thing today, where classic rock rip-offs like The White Stripes are actually refreshing.
Sidetracked again. "Nightrain" is delicious. "You're Crazy" is fucking crazy. "Sweet Child O' Mine" is positively fucking sick. If Slash's guitar tone hadn't been burned into your consciousness by this track, it surely is now. Super fucking tasty. "Paradise City" -- OMFG! These guys never did anything like this again, so cherish it. Granted, I dig some of the stuff from Lies; but nothing was ever as brutal, bombastic, fresh and irreverent as this. Those who believe that this album contains weak riffs, I think, are misguided, as they may be mistaking the Use Your Illusion I and II monstrosities instead. A
