The Furnace: Live Till You Die

Well, we've made it to the final album, 2012's Live Till You Die. This has been an incredible ride. Thanks for sticking with me. Continue to support indie artists. It's hard to find an audience, believe me. But, like Elvis said when asked if he felt threatened by The Beatles, "There's room for everybody."

Our lineup's been juggled again. Kevin, Dan, and Casey remain at the core. I haven't given much attention to the revolving bass players. When they don't distract, they're doing their job. Toby Revelle is no different this time around as he thumps along.

Like Ryan Eibling on Find a Way, Andy Crowley does an amazing job behind the drum kit. He's a technical genius, like Ryan, and also keeps impeccable time. Maybe he's not trying to prove he's better than the other two. Who cares? Nothing wrong with that. Paul McCartney was always competing with John Lennon. We wouldn't have "Hey Jude" if he wasn't. (Shit, that's two Beatles references, and I'm only a few paragraphs in!)

High-octane rocker "Hurt Locker" opens the album and lets us know these guys aren't messing around. They're taking a stand. They're the guys who lay down and die. Or is it the Gods who do? I don't have lyrics this time, so I'm deciphering on my own, but make no mistake about it: The Furnace is out to rock the house with this disc, and they never disappoint. It's as metal as anything they've offered. The riffs alternate under scorching vocals that lead into a blissful electric solo, heavy as fuck.

By the time we get to "21 Guns," the best song on the album, our asses are sufficiently kicked. This radio-friendly father's tribute to his son lost at war includes a mournful dedication as part of the catchy refrain. The keyboard break seeps into graveyard visuals as we hail fallen soldiers returning home to the glorious tribute they deserve. The guitar solo shoots off like explosive artillery while the drums play a rolling taps. Kevin's vocals drown us in sorrow over a bluesy lead that drives the coda. An outright masterpiece.

"Scars Left Behind," a headbanger reminiscent of Alice in Chains, includes riffs and drums sounding off in machine gun fashion as the album continues to punish us with military imagery. The transitions march between verses, leaving us assaulted by Kevin's relentless shouts. The guitar, a mixture of alternate picking and tapping, shreds as the drums hammer. Kevin's painful scream fittingly ends the piece.

The title track "Live Till You Die" has an infectious rhythm that slides through the verses and shoots the chorus into your head. This hard rocker has a solid rhythm and vibrant vocals, proving pop metal is old hat to these seasoned veterans.

"Hang On (Breezy's Song)," the first of two very personal tracks on the album, starts with a pensive acoustic melded into gentle drums until Kevin arrives on scene tearing out our hearts. Kevin impresses on this track more than any other as front man for The Furnace because of his ability to make these lyrics his own. He pleas as if for his own child, building up a passionate delivery until he grits his teeth at the end, begging us all to hang on. What an amazing performance! The lead guitar climbs an emotional ladder between verses until the music drops out for an acoustic break, leaving us all breathless.

"External (For You)," a gut-wrenching instrumental, fuses Casey and Dan's trademark guitar playing. Again, we don't need to know who's picking up the leads where. They blend bluesy Duane Eddy and Stevie Ray Vaughn licks with classic metal runs that recall Eddie Van Halen in his prime. I know who this song is for, and I can tell you I miss her every day. I'm grateful for The Furnace for including this track. Throughout their entire run, they've never been afraid to the share their personal lives with us. They're always transparent and vulnerable. We've witnessed their life's journeys for over ten years and watched them grow as artists and people. They've told us what they love and warned us of everything they fear. Their lessons should not be overlooked.

There are 13 songs on this album, so now that I've discussed specific tracks, let me highlight those that didn't get coverage. "Forgive Me" opens with a groovy riff, drops into heavy power chords, and rides a sizzling metal solo. "My Last Day," a Beatles-inspired ballad (yeah, I know three references, just shut up), complete with Kevin's classic vocal pleas during a captivating refrain. "Change," haunts us with a Sabbath riff reminiscent of 13, their swan song, a year prior to that release. "New Sun," "Live Forever," and "Monster," uptempo rockers that kick ass. The Nirvana-sounding "Illusion" opens with Kevin's best Hootie in contrast to the earth-shaking rock shouts we've all grown to love. Sounds like heavier Candlebox (think "Far Behind" or "Cover Me") with a melodic guitar solo to close.

Overall, I'm impressed with how The Furnace continued to evolve throughout their career. This is their hardest rocking, heaviest metal album of all. A fitting end to a remarkable run. My favorite two remain Words I Never Said and Find A Way, appropriate that Kevin and Dave each have a place. Just because I like lists, I'll give you my favorite ten songs. I didn't choose any songs that are personal (like the one I co-wrote, for instance) because I wanted this to be totally objective.

1. "21 Guns"
2. "Look Down Upon Me"
3. "Find a Way"
4. "Bury My Bones"
5. "Over Again"
6. "Don't Turn Away"
7. "Comfort"
8. "Killer Inside"
9. "Make Me Bleed"
10. "Simple Things"

You can find Live Till You Die on Amazon for only $9.99 or live-stream the album for free on Spotify.

Next week, a surprise, as I'll review On the Edge by Rush To War, my brother Danny's follow-up hard rock band. Thanks for being here.

The Furnace: Words I Never Said

Kevin Flowers returns on this 2009 offering from The Furnace, and he's better than ever. In fact, Words I Never Said is the best album so far, which means they keep getting better with each record. Do you realize how fucking rare that is? Most bands peak when they start and spend the rest of their time struggling to achieve their early success. Somehow, The Furnace keeps growing, regardless of the lineup. And with Paul Burch back on drums, we have the original Kevin Flowers, Paul Burch, Dan Drago chemistry that made their initial launch some ten years earlier an incredible force.

Lead guitar also makes a comeback on this album. Not that the music or the riffs on the previous discs have been subpar. This time around, the songs are laced with exhilarating solos that sizzle like acid. Whether it's Dan or Casey Weaver shredding makes no difference. These eight songs are a rock lovers dream come true.

"Over Again" opens the set of eight songs with Kevin's trademark balance of soft phrasing and rock shouting as only he does. In fact, the more I listen to this group, especially this album, the more I hear Nirvana's undeniable influence. Throw in a little Hootie and the Blowfish for good measure when the song gets cozy and you've got an undeniable classic. The chorus for this track is about as catchy as anything The Furnace has given us so far. I don't know who penned the lyrics, but with Kevin at the mic, I can't help but wonder how much is autobiography. With The Furnace, he's found his way back home. And I love it!

The third track, "The One That Bleeds," is about as heavy as, and kicks as much fucking ass as, any hard rocker this century. It recalls "Make Me Bleed" from Find a Way with its aggressive Sabbath-inspired riffs and cutthroat desperation. That uptempo drive punctuating the end makes me pound my fist into the dashboard as I crank up the volume on my CD player.

Next in line, "Don't Turn Away," starts with clean acoustic playing under Kevin's best Darius Rucker. Makes me wonder if Kevin listens to, or sang any country music, at any point in his career. It blends effortlessly with the hard rock that emerges as we're thrust into the chorus full throttle. I love the melody of all the structures building within this song. Kevin raises the bar, proving once and for all, that he owns this genre. Again, I don't know anything personal about these bandmates (except for Danny), so I can't help but wonder if his reluctant return to the bottle reflects real life struggles. If so, I hope they all get the relief and help they're after. After so many weeks in a row listening to their music, we're like best friends now. I carry their emotions with me in my back pocket.

Up fifth is "Simple Things," a radio friendly rocker kickstarted by Paul's rumbling drums that lead directly into Kevin's iconic raspy vocals. We get a throwback to a Zakk Wylde-inspired solo, returning The Furnace to its roots in 90s metal. The catchy refrain doubles as part of the bridge over a minimized riff and haunting drums. The song ends with Kevin's best power scream. Honestly, I don't know how this fucking band didn't make it big. With this album and this song, it's so obvious that they've mastered the genre and give us everything we want from heavy music. The production and engineering are brilliant. The songwriting continues to mature and impress.

"Reborn (Samsara)" drops in as the seventh track with crackling that could've been sampled from one of my dad's old vinyl records. We get thumping drums and a classic hard rock riff before Kevin launches into his most passionate refrain: "We are born/to what was torn/crucified no more." Once again, these lyrics speak to their personal journeys as artists and musicians, celebrating this reunion. The guitars hiccup during the prechorus, the lines of the bridge echo, and suddenly the bottom drops out into an acoustic verse. "Take a look at yourself," Kevin warns. And we know what he means. You don't get many chances in life. Take what you're given and fucking make something of yourself. That ending chant sounds like an ancient ritual. I'm blown away.

The climax of everything they've accomplished so far as The Furnace arrives in the final song of the album, "Words I Never Said." Part apology, part accusation - we get another glimpse into the struggles and heartbreaks of these bandmates. "Will I ever find the words I never said?" Not long ago, I was asked to cite an example of something by somebody else I wish I would've written. This is it. Not Shakespeare, not Dickens, not even my literary hero, Stephen King. That poetic line plagues my soul. The tempo change halfway leads through Kevin's demonic incantation abruptly followed by his shout to the heavens. The perfect contrast of structure and mood. Truly, this song ends with the best guitar solo I've heard by The Furnace. Recalls some of the best live Randy Rhodes work, "Mr. Crowley" and "Children of the Grave." Kevin's final notes cascade into screams. 

Look, I know it's easy for you to think: Hey, Tommy only likes this shit because it's his little brother's fucking band. Fuck you. That couldn't be further from the truth. My brother and I are our biggest critics. He tells me when something I write sucks, and I love him for it. This music is damn good. I would tell him if it weren't. I wish he/they would've headlined fucking rock arenas, believe me. But that just wasn't in the cards. I'm not tearing up the bestseller charts with my novels. And you know what? That's fucking okay. We enjoy what we do. It's so obvious on this record that The Furnace is having fun, if only for a moment. Thank God for that. 

Please pick up your copy of Words I Never Said. You won't be disappointed. Up next, their final album: Live Till You Die.

The Furnace: Find a Way

Before I review Find a Way, the 2005 release by The Furnace, I should clear up a quick point. 

Last time, I touted Beyond What's Become as their second release. Actually, it was their second full-length album. They released Under a Demon Sky, an EP with six songs (at least that's what the 2015 reissue on Napster has), in or around 2000. Although Paul Burch has tried to share the music with me, I still haven't been able to get access. From what I can tell listening to the online samples, the EP includes Kevin Flowers singing the revised version of their vampire's hymn ("Tar"), an early attempt at "Two-Faced Savior," the actual radio release of "Bury My Bones," and a mix of three other songs I'm not familiar with, two of which are live.

Also, I neglected to mention that Beyond What's Become won a local award for best heavy metal album presented to the band by Phoenix rockers, Flotsam and Jetsam. An incredible accomplishment and highlight of their career, regardless of personnel.

But I want this to be about their music, not a biography, so I'll stick to covering their songs. I do think it's important to reveal lineup changes, so I should mention that this release includes almost the same players, except Ryan Eibling stepping in on drums. He does a solid job throughout the recordings, but he's a bit busier than Paul, almost as if he's trying to prove his worth (the opposite of how I felt about Dave Armstrong taking over for Kevin on vocals). Paul continues to get songwriting credits, as does Rex Van Dine, a vocalist who spent a year with The Furnace before Beyond What's Become and now fronts Stereo Rex.

"Find a Way" is the first of seven songs on the album (almost another EP itself because two of the songs are remakes of earlier releases). It's one of my favorite songs by The Furnace (I will reveal a personal Top Ten as part of my final review in a couple of weeks). In fact, the entire album is brilliant. It's my favorite so far. All the tracks are short and tight. The engineering is superb. I probably listened quite a bit when it first came out because I could sing along with all the songs right away. It's an excellent follow-up. These five tracks are as good, if not better, than what they offered on their award-winning previous album.

"Find a Way" opens with grumbling drums that transcend quickly into an electrifying guitar riff and yearning melody. Dave's vocals and the songwriting, especially for the pre-chorus, remain outstanding. The layered lyrics throughout the chorus haunt us with desire to reunite these separated lovers. I especially like the lyrics, "You've seen me calling, but you find me difficult to hear." The strongest line of everything I've heard from this amazing band so far.

The next track, "Make Me Bleed," starts out with an acoustic intro but plows into a heavy riff that drops out as the vocals begin, giving us an amazing Nirvana feel. There's this uptempo riff as we power into the chorus that keeps my head banging. An aggressive bridge includes the line, "you fucked me over and left me bleeding," and anyone who's ever been in a bitter relationship buys right into that sentiment. I love the whole structure of the song. The musicians are relentless as Dave punches that solitary refrain at the end: "leaving you would make me bleed."

"Comfort" is third and begins with Dave singing the chorus by himself as the guitars gradually fade in, launching a powerful riff under a quick lead. Dave stands toe to toe with the guitars, alternating like two boxers squaring off in the ring. By the time we get to the musical break, we're pummeled. Dave echoes the haunting refrain over another acoustic run during the musical bridge before his pleas for solace end while the drums roll. This is a masterpiece.

"See the Lie" and "All of This" complete the new material. "See the Lie" includes what's probably their best guitar solo since the first album. Again, I don't know whether it's Danny or Casey playing, but it doesn't fucking matter. The song rocks and rolls as only the best metal knows how to do. "All of This" starts with a "Diary of a Madman"-type intro that leads us to believe we're heading into another amazing power ballad along the lines of "The Child" or "Say Goodbye." Our suspicions are proved wrong rather quickly as the guitars and drums rip loose. Dave's vocals are better than ever. He even has this Roy Orbison thing going on (okay, if Roy Orbison ever sang heavy metal) where he hits some amazing notes over a hammering riff.

"Slave," the first remake, improves on the original, despite feeling a bit slower. The piece is tighter overall, and Dave sounds more confident in his delivery. "Look Down Upon Me" holds its own, not only with the original, but as the climax to this remarkable collection. It's bold to re-attempt your own songs. Elvis (my favorite artist) rarely did it. One of the few times he tried was an abysmal version of "Blue Suede Shoes" after he came back from the army. You can tell his heart was no longer in it. Not the case here. The Furnace proves why they're heavy metal masters, not only on this track, but on the entire album.

The disc is available on Amazon for only $5.92. Order here: Find a Way

Next up: Words I Never Said.

The Furnace: Beyond What's Become

Before we tackle the songs on the next LP by The Furnace, we need to address all the changes that happened during the three years since their debut. We're now in 2002. It's important to note one major change that has nothing to do with the band at all: I moved away from Arizona. That's only significant because I was no longer able to see these guys play live. My experience came solely from listening to their music. Believe me, I hate that I missed seeing my little brother, and the rest of his mates, perform.

First and foremost, we now have a new lead singer, David Armstrong. I don't quite know why Kevin Flowers left, but I wouldn't write about that even if I did. It's none of your fucking business. It's none of mine. That's something the band needed to work out. Not us. If you want to read about band drama, pick up my new novel Raised on Rock when it's available on October 1st (shameless plugs shall never perish from the earth).

To be fair and not take anything away from Kevin (because I love his vocals), Dave does an excellent job stepping in. He's probably a better singer, technically speaking. The brilliance in Dave's approach is that he never takes on more than he needs to. He doesn't show off. I never get that he's trying to prove he's better than, or put himself in any competition with, Kevin. He continues to give the fans exactly what they expect from The Furnace: powerful soul. And yeah, he's got that Seth McFarland 90s voice going on. Except he's more of a cross between Creed or Live with a little less James Hetfield. Certainly not bad company to hang with.

We also have a new guitarist. Or rather a second guitarist, Casey Weaver. Here's what makes Casey so amazing: I can't tell when he's playing or when Danny's playing, and I've listened to my brother play since we were fucking teenagers! I might guess that Danny plays the riffs and Casey the leads, but I can't be sure and could be wrong. But I also don't care because these two ax-men make great fucking music together. Sure, we no longer have that Ozzy/Sabbath feel that Danny gave us on the debut album, but that's okay. As artists, we all want to grow. I don't only write like Stephen King anymore. And the world already has Tony Iommi, Randy Rhodes, and Zakk Wylde, right? It's one thing to be inspired, it's another to innovate. These two guys meld together like the best pinochle hand.

The biggest difference for me might be Paul's drumming. He's a standout on this album. Remember when I told you he's one of my favorites? This album shows you why. He kicks every song into high gear. His timing is spectacular. His approach, more complex and powerful than before. I don't really know how to speak drums (hey, I barely know how to speak guitar and I've been playing for ten years: strings, chords, scales ... duh, look at me play guitar real good) or else I'd give you a better description. Paul's subtle when he needs to be (as always) but fucking rocks when we need our asses kicked. I love it!

Dave Garcia has stepped in on bass and provides the constant support you expect without distracting. My favorite players are Geezer Butler and Gene Simmons. What I love most about those two is that they know exactly when they're supposed to ride the wave but also when they're supposed to shine. Dave's the same. The best moments for me in these songs is when the guitars drop out for a short count and let Dave thump away. It's great writing and solid collaboration.

I ended up taking a lot of time getting through the preliminary bullshit again, so if you're still reading, I'll take you through some of the songs. There are 12 of them, which is about three or four more than I usually like on an album (that goes for any artist). Give me 8-10 songs, and I'm good to go. I end up skipping my way around to create my own playlist anyhow. And yes, that goes for Elvis's and Ozzy's albums.

"Look Down Upon Me" opens the set and is about as catchy as anything The Furnace has given us so far. It welcomes us with their classic metal prowess despite the lineup changes. The groove is melodic, the guitar solo understated but purposeful, the structure original. The refrain doesn't come until the coda, which leaves me wanting more as the song ends. Perfect.

By the time we get to the fourth track, "Killer Inside," the head-banging is constant. The songs rock with powerful drive. If not for the liner notes, I would've thought this was called "Kill Her Inside," which also works. If there's one song on this album that I might've co-written with Danny (like "Raise the Dead"), it would've been this one. "All alone in an empty room, I hear a child crying" and "Not alone in a crowded room, I hear a family screaming" sound like me, and I fucking love it. It's probably my favorite rocker on the disc. Very radio friendly and stays in your head long after the album is over. The effortless guitar solo and acoustic bridge are followed by a crescendo of refrains underscored with melodic lead and varied melody, reflecting a growth and maturity of these artists that leaps everywhere off the disc.

The band resurrects their vampire hymn for the ninth track. They call it "Tar" this time around and change the lyrics, but the riffs and melody sound the same. I wonder how Dave felt about recording this one. Or Kevin listening, if he ever gave it a chance. Again, none of our fucking business. The song is solid but so was the original. They alter the arrangement enough not to force the comparison. Again, Dave handles the vocals without trying to prove he's better than Kevin. The best choice was not giving us the same ending. Kevin's version includes a haunting refrain that closes the debut album like a funeral chant. Smart not to go there again.

I love covers when they're true to their antecedents, and the band's take on "I Ran" is no exception. It reminds me of how Life of Agony does "Don't You (Forget About Me)." There's something poetic about a metal band taking a pop song and making the heaviness work. This homage carries me right back to junior high and every girl I ever chased. The musicians let loose while Dave's vocals pound our broken hearts into submission.

The disc closes with "Say Goodbye," an acoustic ballad reminiscent of "The Child" on their debut. This time, our passionate speaker can't find the right words to say when parting ways with his loved one. I'm confident my little brother wrote this about our grandmother (some nine years before she died), but the lyrics apply to any relationship. Percussion creeps in during the second half of the song, reminding me of a galloping horse. Perhaps, one that carries away the object of affection. It's poignant and chilling.

I can't help but walk away from Beyond What's Become feeling proud of what these guys accomplished despite all the lineup changes. A remarkable effort. Find it on Spotify or buy it here: Beyond What's Become.

Next up: Find a Way.

The Furnace: Only Ashes Remain

This cover brings back so many memories. So do all the songs.

For those of you who don't know, this is my brother Danny's band. Or it was. But it's so much more. He pours an insane amount of energy into making music.

Always has.

I remember his first guitar. He practiced relentlessly. Building his skills and honing his natural talent. Nothing made me smile more than hearing Tony Iommi's licks screeching from his bedroom. Or that one time he played along with Scotty Moore, improvising a solo to Elvis's "Wear My Ring Around Your Neck." I wonder if he remembers or knows how much I admire the passion he shows for his art. He composes as naturally on guitar as I do with pen and paper. Or as naturally as he does with pen and paper! Did you know he's a heavy metal critic? How fucking cool is that? Just check out this webpage to get a flair: Heavy Music HQ.

This post isn't just to brag about my little brother, but fuck yeah, I'm going to brag. About him and his wife Dawn, who shows unending support for his music. I don't know if she's ever missed a single performance, but I bet she hasn't.

This is really the first in a series of posts to present his albums as a preface to the release of my brand new novel, Raised on Rock. My brother's spirit is on every page of that book. That's why I dedicated it to him. For all those years ago.

I should note that The Furnace was really Danny's third band (from what I recall). He ran a little teenybopper, Nirvana-inspired, alternative group called Lust Mustard and a pre-Furnace metal band (what The Golliwogs were to CCR) called Thorne (or maybe Damien Thorne). Either way, I stole that name for my novel. Or let's call it, paying tribute. Anyhow, it's what I named my hero's garage band.

So, Only Ashes Remain, right? An excellent debut. Each song has a solid groove with memorable vocal lines. In fact, the tracks have been stuck in my head since I started prepping for this post.

Fittingly, the disc opens with "Thorne," which I suspect was a holdover from the previous band. Tough to remember. Keep in mind, this was a 1999 release. A lot of shit has happened in the last twenty years. Either way, vocalist Kevin Flowers makes the track his own, like he does on all the numbers. He's got a bit of an Eddie Vedder/James Hetfield thing going on, which works perfectly for the era. Although you might giggle if you think of Seth McFarland's Ted, who impersonates all 90s vocalists at Flash Gordon's drug-infested party.

Anyhow, back to The Furnace. Danny gives the opener a Zakk Wylde feel, which describes so many of the riffs on this album. No surprise there. Zakk played lead for Ozzy back then. And if you didn't know that Ozzy matters to Danny or me, then how are you reading this? I hear "Gets Me Through" before "Gets Me Through" was a song. Maybe Zakk liked The Furnace. He should have.

I'm partial to the next track, "Raise the Dead," because I co-wrote the lyrics with Danny. Honestly, I can't tell which are mine anymore, but "I feel your pain/coming through from the other side" and "Through an open door/the winds blow up and down" sound suspiciously like me. Danny's got a Tony Iommi thing going on, but I still hear Zakk.

Let me take a moment right now to mention how great the rest of the supporting cast is on this album. Paul Burch, one of my favorite drummers, has a simple, powerful style that provides a solid drive, while bassist Joe Noyes (I truly hope that's pronounced "noise" because you know, heavy metal and all) holds rhythm under Danny's riffs and leads with necessarily understated craft.

If the album had a hit single, it would've been the fourth track, "Bury My Bones," which I remember hearing on local radio stations (or at least dreaming that I did). A classic rocker with great structure and tempo. The prechorus steals the song as the music fades to a whisper under Kevin's haunting vocals. The chorus returns with a thumping overlay of the refrain carried along by superb instrumentation and precise timing. If you're not singing along by the time it's finished, you must not've had your volume up. It's infectious.

The standout track could very well be "The Child." Danny plays his best "Mama I'm Coming Home" intro or maybe even "Diary of a Madman," an amazing tribute to his idol Randy Rhodes. More importantly, the gentle melody and gut-wrenching lyrics take me back to the year we each had our first child. Kevin handles the melody with grace. Probably the best vocal performance he ever put down on record. Danny's incredible, sweeping lead makes my eyes water, especially now as I'm about to watch my firstborn go off to college. "Wipe the tear/hold her hand/look inside the eyes/of your child." I lose myself in those words.

I'll stop taking apart each track here but know that every song is equally as good as the next. There's absolutely zero filler. You only hear the genesis of a band fighting for recognition. Hungry for an audience. Danny might disagree because he's his own harshest critic, but I fucking love the production quality and mix of this disc. It puts me right in the studio and makes me feel like a bandmate, which is all I want from any rock and roll album.

I realize this post ran long, but I needed to get through all the introductory bullshit. I promise I'll go right into the music for the next album, Beyond What's Become. And if I can find out how to purchase these discs, I'll post links. For now, use Google or message me. I'll see what I can do.

I Wrote the Book I Always Wanted to Write

And I love it.

At some point, an artist realizes the work is for the self, first and foremost. Sure, you want an audience. Need to communicate. Put out a message. Dress it up with gimmicks. Shout out, "Look at me! Look at what I've done! I'm an artist!" That's all fine. Sounds like Bowie or Warhol or Wes Anderson or some shit. I don't care. I wrote the thing. The thing is what matters. It exists. It's real. Like everything I've ever created. But better. Because it's what I always wanted to write. And I did it.

So, what is it? It's not horror. I don't really do that anymore. Not sure I ever did. Okay, I wrote a few stories back in the day that copied Poe, Lovecraft, or King. The greats, you know? You've heard of them. Those authors will always be part of me. Of who I am as an artist. But this isn't horror. Not supernatural, not paranormal, not science fiction. I've given all those a shot. Succeeded sometimes. Failed more often. It's not mystery or suspense or thriller or romance. I've tried those, too. Sometimes I was good. Most of the time, not. And for what it's worth, it's not erotica. And yes, I've given that a go. Might even put one out soon. But not this. This is different. This is real. This is me. This is everything I ever wanted to write.

The book's about a rock singer named Dante Rose. He broke up with his band about ten years before the start of the story. He's stuck playing solo gigs as a cover artist. This is his Purgatory (read The Divine Comedy, please). He's not the most reliable narrator, so his view of the past is skewed in his favor. Like the rest of us. He blames everybody but himself for the break-up. Can't see his own faults. But he's a great guy. Loving husband, devoted friend. Hard worker. Selfless.

His wife Penny wants him to succeed. Does everything she can to help. Like her namesake (read The Odyssey), she's loyal and dutiful while Dante's lost. But she has a health scare. This is his Hell. She's the most important thing in his life. More than his old band. More than the music. She's his biggest inspiration and motivation. He knows he needs to make his run now more than ever.

That's the gist. There's also a shit ton of music (of course). Rock and roll saturates the piece. Everything from Elvis and the Beatles to Black Sabbath and Metallica to Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Even Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats make an appearance. Dante plays, sings, listens, writes, and breathes rock, soul, country, blues, and rhythm and blues. Everything I know. Everything I grew up listening to. Everything I love.

At the very least, I've got an artist's coming of age story here. It's also subculture fiction, but not quite, because the band's ten years in the past and Dante works at a grocery store now. That's really his subculture. This probably isn't quite literary fiction because the scholars will tell me I use "fuck" too many times. What can I say? I love that word. How many times have I told you my dad's a truck driver? But there are allusions and metaphors and motifs and foreshadowing and all the shit that makes what I learned in college worth the money my parents shelled out. The shit that makes me look clever. Makes me shout, "Look at me! Look at what I've done!" Oh, wait a minute, I already wrote that part.

I've considered a bunch of titles. Maybe you can weigh in? At any given time, the novel's been called, Rock Star, Rock Star Dream, Strings of Theory, Dreamer, Follow That Dream, Looking for Today, or Tomorrow's Dream. Not sure what I'll end up with. Doesn't matter. I'm excited. Hope you are. Hope you catch the vibe I'm sending. If nothing else, hope this inspires you to chase your dreams. Never give up. Whatever they are. Don't let them wither or fester. Or dry up and die. Or stink like rotten meat. Or explode. Okay, you get the idea. And yes that's a Langston Hughes reference. I fucking love that poet.

Thanks, Mom and Dad.

Stranger Things 2: What Went Wrong

 
Since I came under fire yesterday after I posted on Facebook that I didn't care for the second season of Stranger Things, I figured I'd write a critique to justify my position. I've studied horror movies for about 40 years now, have published three horror novels and many stories, am a member of the Horror Writers Association, and wrote my master's thesis on contemporary horror fiction. Yes, that makes me an authority in the field. That doesn't mean you have to agree with me, of course. You're welcome to follow along with the rest of the sheeple and blindly agree with what the media tells you to like. I prefer to have a mind of my own.

MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT!
DON'T CONTINUE TO READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN SEASON TWO OF STRANGER THINGS!

Here are my complaints in no particular order:

1. Season 2 (S2) isn't scary at all. Keep in mind, I had just finished re-watching Season 1 (S1) the night before the premiere, so I was totally caught up. S1 scared the shit out of me, especially the scene where Joyce (Winona Ryder) strings up all those Christmas lights and the demogorgon tears through the wall to attack her. I had goosebumps all over and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Kind of like what happened a dozen times when I saw the movie adaptation of IT last month. That's what horror is supposed to do above all else, create a sense of fear and dread. That never happens for me in S2. Not once. In fact, anything intended to be scary, and there's very little, makes me roll my eyes or shake my head.

2. S2 has no human villain. This is a huge problem. All horror fans know that the human element is always more frightening than the supernatural one. That's why Dr. Brenner (Matthew Modine) works so well in S1. He's pure evil. Considerably worse than even the terrifying demogorgon. All we get in S2 is Billy (Dacre Montgomery), and he's an asshole (with a meager justification not provided until the second to last episode). He certainly isn't evil.

3. The heroes do nothing. This might piss me off the most. Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) goes on an unnecessary quest to unravel her past. That could've been wrapped up in about five minutes. If they wanted to keep her separate from the group this season, here's a more exciting idea: have her fight her way out of the Upside Down where she disappeared at the end of S1. Or, I don't know, maybe she could've battled the Shadow Monster. You remember that swirling mountain of mist or smoke (or whatever the fuck it was) that does absolutely nothing through nine episodes but kill pumpkins and possess Will (Noah Schnapp)? And what about Mike (Finn Wolfhard)? What happened to his character this season? He was my favorite of S1 but does absolutely nothing in this one. Neither does Joyce. The unraveling and lunacy of her character in S1 creates so much dramatic tension, completely missing in S2. Chief Hopper (David Harbour) also does nothing. After a few episodes of investigating those horrifying dead pumpkins (sarcasm, folks), he gets wrapped up by deadly underground vines (VINES! Can you believe it? VINES! How frightening! - that's more sarcasm), and then spends the rest of the season at Will's bedside doing nothing. It's as if S1 was inspired by all the best elements of Stephen King's novels but S2 used all his worst.

4. Mad Max (Sadie Sink) should've been Eight. That would've created so much more dramatic tension, especially since Eleven was jealous of her. They could've eliminated that whole fucking Scooby Gang in Chicago and just made Billy part of a group of local thugs. That would've made him considerably more nasty and given Mad Max a bigger reason to keep her distance from him. As it is now, Eight (Linnea Berthelsen) does nothing in the story at all. She's completely unlikable. Why put her in there? Does Eleven really need another bad example to teach her right from wrong? Doesn't Hopper's screaming at her give her enough of that? And, by the way, what is with his borderline child abuse anyhow? Hopper sure has a terrifying way of showing how much he loves Eleven. That's the most frightening element of the entire season.

5. The fucking pollywog that becomes a demodog. I can't even begin to describe how fucking absurd this is. Plus, where did all the other demodogs come from? Are we to assume that Will isn't the only one who comes back from the Upside Down coughing up slugs? If so, where are all the rest? Is that overly maniacal and dastardly ferocious Shadow Monster possessing them as well? Where? When?

6. Deus ex machina. Somehow, Eleven magically realizes that her friends are in trouble and she needs to save them. Yes, Eleven spends a lot of time in her surreal black pool that's part The Dead Zone, part The Shining added to her part Carrie, part Firestarter abilities. Fine. You want her to be the savior dropping down like the machine of the gods in Ancient Greek theatre? Cool. Make her fight something. All she does is hold up her hands and close some nightmarish CGI gate that doesn't even kill that tornado of pain and horror, the Shadow Monster. How ridiculous!

7. How many of us didn't guess that Bob (Sean Astin) would die? Come on. Tell the truth. We all loved Bob. His name even sounds like Barb. We all loved her. Of course, he was going to die. Fine. Horror needs fodder. Why didn't he die sooner? Why didn't anyone else die? Killing Barb (Shannon Purser) so early in S1 was fucking terrifying and bad-ass. Remember that pool scene? It's unforgettable and scary as hell. Maybe they could've killed Mr. Clarke (Randall P. Havens), the AV schoolteacher, early in S2? He does nothing in this season and already earned our respect and adoration during S1. That would've unnerved everyone the way Barb's death did. Exactly what S2 needs. But, wait a minute, how could the Shadow Monster have killed Mr. Clarke that early anyhow? It doesn't do anything but spread slimy goo on trees, kill pumpkins, and grow underground vines.

I could go on. (How about Dr. Owens, played by Paul Reiser, found wounded on the staircase? Why wasn't he killed? Did the demodogs just figure they'd taste him and leave him alone?) Believe me, I love Stranger Things. That's what makes me so angry. Watching sixteen hours over the last few days made the characters seem like family. Made Hawkins seem like my hometown. The Duffer Brothers went to high school nearby in Durham and I work with their drama teacher, so I even have a personal connection to the show. But it's like they phoned in this season just to capitalize on the success of their first. I wished they would've stopped after Eleven killed the demogorgon. We didn't need what they gave us in S2. At least I didn't.