If just one or two things had happened differently we might be talking about the Heavy Metal Kids as one of the most important bands of the 70's. In the very least, when you hear a song of theirs, you begin to understand that the nihilism of punk rock wasn't that far removed from other colorful movements of the decade, like art, prog, and even pop. The oddly-named Heavy Metal Kids (their actual music had little to do with Heavy Metal) were formed from the remnants of two failed prog groups, with the name being much more of a homage to the UK's early 70's twisted gang culture partly inspired by the movie A Clockwork Orange. After a great first album (which fell flat commercially) they rebranded themselves as "The Kids" for their second album, which is just as good, if not better than their debut. Tough, ballsy rockers like "Hard at the Top", "On The Street", and "Blue Eyed Boy" both wear their influences on their sleeve and far surpass them. Slower, more sensitive affairs like "Situations Outta Control" and "The Big Fire" are both desperate and magnetic. Lead vocalist Gary Holton is an obvious star, portraying himself as a tragic, manic figure throughout - yet, like the debut, this album would not find a mass audience, either.

For whatever reason, it took a group from Finland, of all places, to give 80's glam rockers a blue print, from looks to energy to sound. This is gutter-romance street rock following closely on the heels of the New York Dolls and the Heartbreakers (the Johnny Thunders version), straddling the line between punk and metal. The songs are not as distinctive but definitely more subtle and refined than their American counterparts Motley Crue, which makes them more interesting to listen to (at least I think so). Lead singer Michael Monroe's squelchy voice might turn off some ears, but I think it fits in with overall vibe of the record. Definitely worth multiple revisits.

This team probably needed a Netfilx series to properly tell its story....

Probably the most fascinating thing about Dust is that, for a band that released a grand total of two albums, how they continue to generate far more interest some 40 to 50 years than when they actually existed as a functioning act. Hard Attack is the second of two LP’s, and generally, there’s not much difference between the two, although for this more gruffly-titled affair the band decided to stylistically stretch their wings a bit. Yes, there are sensitive things such as ballads, and country-tinged ones at that. But this is a Dust album, which means even when they play a country song, there’s a certain intensity that is missing from your average mom and pop country song. Therefore, the otherwise genteel “I’ve Been Thinkin” comes out like the prelude to a twisted suicide note. And speaking of those….This is the album which contains the mighty track “Suicide”, propelled by Marc Bell’s (later to be Marky Ramone) nasty drum work, running through a laundry list of ways to put down oneself in a desperate attempt to get a jilted lover’s attention. Maybe the sentiment is immature, but metal, punk, and hardcore fans alike can certainly unite over the defiant, middle-finger tone of this one, right? The other cited track is “Learning to Die”, which is on the progressive side of the street, but again, no less defiant in tone than “Suicide”. In fact, defiant and “screw-all” are the general themes of Hard Attack, even for the opening suite “Pull Away/So Many Times”, where the trio replicate their aggression with acoustics and just a lone electric guitar on top of it. The ballads might seem a bit out of place at first (“Thusly Spoken”, “I’ve Been Thinkin”, “How Many Horses”), but upon further listens they fit with the general melancholy of the affair. The guys in Dust seemed like lost kids searching for the next break or opportunity and all of these songs come off like great cries of frustration, in retrospect. In 2004, both the debut and Hard Attack were packaged together as a 2-for-1 CD, so that is probably the best way to experience everything this band had to offer.

The story begins in the Hamilton, Ontario area in the late 1960s, when the group served as the backup band for Ronnie Hawkins, until he fired them, unwittingly giving them their name by telling a friend, "those boys could fuck up a crowbar in fifteen seconds." Their debut was recorded with another local legend, King Biscuit Boy (actual name: Richard Newell) in 1970, but soon afterwards both acts did not see eye-to-eye and went their separate ways, which leads us to Bad Manors. One thing both Crowbar and King Biscuit Boy had in common was a rowdy, communal, party-hardy take on blues-rock and roots-rock that was diametrically opposed to Hawkins' old mates The Band. There was nary a ballad to be found on Bad Manors, and in fact the record was named after the group's communal house on the outskirts of Hamilton. Crowbar concerts were wild affairs where the guitarist and bass player were draped on the giant, hulking body of 250-pound piano player and lead vocalist Blake "Kelly Jay" Fordham. The notable song here was "Oh, What A Feeling", a sweaty, catchy, Funkadelic-in-spirit groove which put to shame all of Rare Earth's catalog in one expertly-tuned four minute blast. Then again, that was just one of many well-played and executed grooves from this record. Sadly, about the only place people know Fordham from is a 2013 episode of Hoarding Buried Alive, and that he passed away in 2019. But make no mistake, his Crowbar was, once upon a time, a formidable presence on stage and on record, and deserve more recognition for it.