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I waited 2 years for THIS? Worst follow-up albums ever.

We've all been there . . . you wait and wait for the next album, you're one of the first to buy it when it finally comes out, you anxiously drop it in the stereo . . . and it SUCKS! But, when it came time to actually sort out all the disappointing albums I've bought over the years, how to decide the "worst"? What qualifies one over the other? The sheer suckiness of the music? That's a factor, but it's not enough. I finally realized that's it's more a factor of how good the previous album was. A suck album following a previous suck album isn't such a disappointment (or is it? Tell me if I'm wrong). But when you liked the previous album, you expect more . . . and that makes the disappointment that much worse.It still wasn't easy . . . but being a member of the CyberMonkeyDeathSquad is NEVER easy! Here we go again . . .

Priest would go on to release some truely awful albums, but "Point of Entry" was the one that hurt. "British Steel" was a GREAT album. This was not. It's not as bad as some of the future albums (is ANYTHING as bad as "Turbo" and "Ram It Down"?), but coming on the heels of the masterpiece that was "British Steel", it was a major disapointment. This was a harbinger of the crass commercialism and arena rock that were to follow. The next album ("Screaming For vengeance") was better, but the slide had begun, and it just went down down down from there.

Def Leppards first three albums were good, hard, fun. Personally, I've always thought "High 'N' Dry" was superior to "Pyromania", but I love both of them. Then I heard "Hysteria". The album where they sold out. Listening to this album, you can almost hear the band screaming for a hook, looking for the next piece of instant radio airplay, all in pursuit of another ca-ching from the cash register. Well, at least I had learned by this time not to buy it until I heard it. And you couldn't help but hear it - the formula the boys were given certainly worked. It sold. It got airplay. They made millions. Was it worth it? Only they can answer that question.

Technically, this was a follow up to GNR Lies, but that was really an EP so I decided it didn't count (my game, I can make the rules!). And even if it does count, I liked it. It was fun. Good songs. But this, to me, was to be the true follow up to "Appetite for Destruction". Then the delays started. Then the decision to make it two albums (it's one double album you split in two to take more money from your fans, dickwads). And honestly, more times than not a double album is a BAD IDEA. Not this time, though, because there's not enough good material to make a good single album. This is what happens when a singer convinces himself he's an artist. In spite of everyone he knows telling him (honestly) that he's NOT an artist. Axel, you were gifted with a great voice, and managed to hook up with a band that was really good. You should have counted your blessings and ridden that train. You're not Lou Reed. You're not Pete Townshend. You can't pull the "artist" thing off. Of course, most people would catch on after their band walks out. Or after they spend millions of dollars and way too many years recording an album that nobody believes will ever appear, or ever be worth more than a laugh. But not our boy Axel. Delusion must be a wonderful thing.

Or, as I like to call it - the day we found out that the Sex Pistols were about as real as The Monkees. That's right - the band that brought Punk to the mainstream wasn't really punk! And before anyone gets violent - I do not in ANY WAY mean to denigrate the individuals in the band. They were punk . . . but they were also puppets, manipulated by a svengali-like manager who saw the band, and the punk movement in general, as a means of making money. I give the original three members credit for walking away when they realized what was going on, and for refusing to take part in the induction at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And Sid Vicous doesn't count. He was yet another example of Malcom McLaren caring more about image than music . . . he couldn't even play his instrument. This is one case where you absolutely can't blame the band. Blame the manager, blame the record company, and blame their contempt for music, art, and anything except the almighty British Pound.

I honestly don't know if I can discuss this intellectually. I had such a visceral reaction to this album, and the albums that followed just made it worse. I HATED this album. It wasn't U2. I tried to tell myself they were just trying to stretch, to grow, to try something new . . . but it didn't work. Where can I start . . . Bono. Bono. Bono. The man who believed his own hype. Now, unlike our friend Axel, is an artist. And an artist who gets too much adoration from the public can so very easily fall into the trap of believing he really IS god (I call this the Clapton Syndrome). Where once they sang about things that mattered, now they made records that sold really big, and Bono DID things that mattered. But it turns out, nothing he's DONE has really mattered much, and the music (which COULD have changed the hearts and minds of a generation) turned into a gauche exhibition of "look at me!!!". Bono's on stage behavior became more and more bizarre, adopting personae like "Mephistphilese" and "The Fly". The ever present big-ass sunglasses that always looked to me like something you'd wear on a racquetball court (very Rock and Roll). There were still hints of the U2 that used to be (come on, even a cynical Bastard like me has to admit "One" is a good song), but even those were gone by the release of the next album, "Zooropa". I know that many of their old fans came back after the supposed return to form of "All That You Can't Leave Behind", but I'm not buying it. I want to believe, Bono, I really want to believe . . . but I don't.