Public Class GeoffAppleby

Metallica are my old underpants.

This afternoon I had to go for a drive to shop that's just far enough away that I can get a full album listened to by the time I'm home again.

So I flicked through my collection and grabbed '...And Justice For All'. I haven't listened to it in a while, and I was by myself for once, so I could have something loud and heavy, for a change.

While I was listening, a couple of things occurred to me. First, how flat it sounded. Don't get me wrong, it's still a great album, but I really think this one is the highlight of the fact that to that point in Metallica's career, James Hetfield just didn't know how to sing. After this album James had singing lessons - which, while it didn't pay off for the Black album (IMHO), started to work for him after that. By the time they made S&M, he'd got it sorted out completely, and they really rocked for that :)

But the albums before Justice still hold up. Master of Puppets still rocks. Ride the Lightning still rocks. Just this one is different.

But I realised something else. I don't care. It may sound a little flat vocally, and Master of Puppets might have better, fuller sound (RIP Cliff), but it's really only the mix that's made it less. The Black album is a bit light-weight for me, Load and Reload were OK, St Anger is not to my taste, unfortunately, but Justice is still good.

I still knew all the words. I still knew where all the good guitar bits were, where all the wierd-ass drumming happened...and then my metaphor hit me. This album is like that old pair of underpants that you don't want to throw away. They have a couple of holes, they aren't as bright and shiny as a new pair, but they're comfy. They're good. They bring back good memories.

On the weekend I found another band that falls into this category. We were driving to the shops and the radio was on. The next song was due to start, so I had an ear open listening to find out what it was (when crap comes on the radio when I'm driving i start station-surfing). I heard a very small, slight, hitch of breath, just the tiniest noise, as someone was about to say something and then changed their mind.

And I knew immediately what song it was. Before the next sound came out of the speakers, I had the radio turned up a bit more, a big grin on my face. It was Civil War, by Guns 'N Roses. I haven't heard this song in a looong time, but I was able to recite word for word the spoken introduction, without missing a beat. Jordie was sitting beside me wondering what the hell it was, but I was in that comfy place. The songs you know and love from long time ago. Nostalgia is a wonderful thing :)

Now, Civil War is definitely not their best song. But both Appetite for Destruction and the Use Your Illusion's were part of my teenage years, and I don't care if Axl Rose seems to be a weirdo freak now, they were good back then. It seemed so at the time anyway, and I'm not going to let go of it :)

Guns 'N Roses are my old underpants too. So is Bon Jovi (the New Jersey album, anyway). So is Faith No More (The Real Thing and Angel Dust). And Pantera (Vulgar Display of Power). Green Day (Dookie). Nirvana. I was definitely a child of late-80s and early-90s rock.

Which leads to the question 'Who are my new underpants?' There's two forms here. There's the new, trendy, but not likely to comfortable forever sort, and the comfy, going to age with style sort.

More important to me is the latter. Screaming Jets. Alice in Chains. Blink 182. Def FX. Foo Fighters. Silverchair. Linkin Park. Evanescence. Daft Punk. Some of these bands don't even exist any more, some are still fairly new on the scene, but I listen to them regularly. The Screaming Jets broke up and then got back together even. But I still listen to them regularly.

And besides, they're all good coding music. For me, I crank it up as loud as possible, turn the lights out, and code code code. I can code to anything as long as it's loud, but I do better if it rocks. See, there is a geek twist to this.

So that's my underpants. I hope you like them.