#20. Eagles of Death Metal – ‘Miss Alissa’

An all-time personal favourite and a shout-out to some people who experienced things no-one should have to experience.

I’ve never been much of a Queens of the Stone Age fan. There, I’ve said it. They’ve got their moments, sure, but I fail to see why people think they’re so special. So I was a bit surprised when I realised, as a fourteen-or-fifteen year-old, that Josh Homme was one half of EODM, who were one of my favourite bands at the time.

They’re one of the few so-called garage revival bands that don’t sound silly ten years later. The band is wholly derivative of other bands, but they don’t care, and they pull off the retro thing 100 per cent, unlike most other retro-styled bands that came up at the same time, whom I won’t mention. But look, throw away Get Born, Highly Evolved and NYC Trust Fund Kids Dressed Up As The Ramones; I highly doubt you’ll still enjoy them. But hang onto Peace Love Death Metal and Death By Sexy. You’ll probably thank me.

Greaser/vampire/frontman Jesse Hughes is a madman in the greatest possible sense of that word, and he does a spot-on Little Richard. Delicious Canned Heat vocals, simple Ramones-esque guitar lines and grinding, stripper pole drums. They made those boring things work together (no offense Ramones, I love you even if you did give us Green Day and many many more oxygen thief punk-wannabes).

And Jesse’s  walrus moustache. He’s one of two people in the world who are cool enough to pull that one off (Skunk Baxter from Steely Dan being the other one, obviously).

I still couldn’t care less about Queens, though. Don’t say ‘Spaceshithead, you probably haven’t even listened to them properly’, because I have. I tried to get into them, it didn’t happen, that was it. Sorry.

I wish Jesse Hughes and co, and all of those affected by that fateful gig at the Bataclan all the best in the wake of the Paris tragedy.

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