Raised on Rock Reviews

I thought I'd collect all the professional reviews for my latest novel, Raised on Rock, in one place. Thanks for reading and supporting me.

from Kirkus

Drago departs from the horror genre in this existential tale of an ex-rocker’s late-in-life coming-of-age.

Dante Rose is currently the assistant manager at grocery store Food Castle, but he still plays local solo gigs here and there. He also obsesses about his time, eight years ago, with Thorn, a rock band that almost made it big before its lead quitarist, Joe Mars, left to form a new group. His wife, Penny Rose, also believed in the dream of Thorn, and the couple chose not to have children in expectation of its success—a decision that’s now eating at them both in different ways. Drago painstakingly constructs his characters, revealing information during mundane events—store checkouts, employee small talk, a poker game. Several events help to define the characters and propel them toward self-discovery: Penny finds a lump in her breast; criminals pass counterfeit bills at Food Castle; Clark Gufney, one of the employees, finds his wife cheating on him; and Dante hunts down and reconnects with his former band mates. Each storyline resonates off the others like the notes of a chord. Drago generates interest through the tension of awaiting doctor appointments and test results, the camaraderie of Dante and his fellow workers, and the unraveling mystery surrounding the band’s reunion—which, in Dante’s mind, hinges on the enigmatic Thorn destroyer and possible redeemer, Joe Mars. Throughout, the book is packed with musical minutiae, from the names of famous and obscure bands, musicians, and songs to the chord structures of Dante’s songwriting. Drago also wields character names like a literary grenadier: Dante, who journeys through his own personal hell; Thorn, the memory that’s forever stuck in his side; Mars, the militaristic force that controlled the life and death of the band.

A thoughtful, elegantly written book that will particularly appeal to musicians and music fans.

from The BookLife Prize by Publishers Weekly

Plot/Idea: 8/10

Originality: 10/10

Prose: 10/10

Character/Execution: 10/10

Overall: 9.5/10

Plot: The plot here is, unfortunately, an emotionally downhill ride from beginning to end. Nevertheless, readers will become invested in Dante, who is basically a "good guy" archetype who loves his wife. Overall, the storyline is strong, if disheartening, but where it falls short is with the subplots.
Prose: Drago is a talented writer who uses language discerningly and does a great job with composing dialogue, perfectly matching it to his characters and their distinctive personalities.
Originality: A has-been rocker struggling to survive is not your average subject matter, and readers will delight in this emotional roller coaster ride. Drago creates a unique setting populated with distinct and original characters that transport the reader into a whole new world.
Character Development: The author does a superb job with characterization. Dante is more than a stereotypical former rocker who gets drunk, picks fights, and writes songs, although he does engage in all of those activities. He's also a multifaceted and compassionate man who cares deeply about his wife. Ancillary characters, particularly Clark, are also well-defined.

from Book Viral

A step change from his previous releases Raised On Rock is Drago at his very best delivering an elemental story simply and superbly written. Rock stars come ago and so do their stories but Drago’s fourth novel is a winner from every possible angle. A grounded and thoroughly enthralling exploration of what happens when a former headliner becomes a wannabe headliner, what Drago gives us is not a comeback story but something much rarer: a rounded, original portrait of a good but flawed man and the choices he has made. Drago’s writing style is simple and spare whilst his ear for dialogue once again proves exceptional. Here he succeeds equally in his evocation of Dante’s glory days with the band he formed with his boyhood friends and his love for Penny whilst delivering a message about what’s really important. On one hand, Dante is solid, dependable, torn, on the other, there’s his easy charm, the anxious modesty, the never-distant hint of frustration, and the other virtues of a deserving winner.

A corker of a novel with all the hallmarks of a best seller, Raised On Rock proves an exceptional read and is recommended without reservation.

from Self-Publishing Review

Anyone who has ever set a personal dream aside understands the pain and nagging doubt that can come along with such a decision. Youthful ambition drives us to pursue even our most outlandish hopes, but as the years pass, those old possibilities dwindle and narrow, even if we hate to admit it. In Raised on Rock, a novel by Thomas Drago, this challenging shift in reality is explored in stark detail.
Dante Rose has been enthralled by rock and roll since he was young, and chased that rocker lifestyle for years through small-town North Carolina with his band Thorn. Although high school is now far behind him, it is difficult to shift his mindset, or find new goals besides hitting it big and getting the recognition he so desperately craves.

Dante is supported by his wife, Penny, who understands his determination, but also sees the massive toll that years of disappointment have taken on her husband. Dante believes that if he could convince Joe Mars – the old lead guitarist – to come back to the band, even just to record an album, they could finally take their shot at stardom.

The interplay of these characters is what makes the novel so striking and engaging. The husband-wife dynamics are delicate and well-crafted, and Drago is highly skilled at slowly building tension between friends both old and new. Similarly, the plot is leaked out slowly, from countless angles and small contributions from peripheral characters. The bitter history of Thorn, Dante Rose’s place in the town, his strained relationship with his parents, and the feelings of self-loathing residing in his gut develop gradually as the chapters unfold.

In some ways, Dante is also an unreliable narrator, which always makes for a compelling read. Artists of all kinds tend to look at their own lives in a more romanticized way, often making it difficult for them to accept the hardest truths about their abilities. As this novel reaches its climax, the chances of reuniting the band seem smaller than ever, and the world continues to pile on Dante’s shoulders, threatening to crush his spirit and his lifelong aspiration.

Capturing such intense emotions on the page is no easy task, but Drago seems to understand the mental space of lofty dreamers, and has personal experience in the small streets of North Carolina, where the idea of “getting out” is ever-present. There is an authenticity in every scene, from card games and dive bars to hospital visits and deeply emotional conversations. The novel is an homage to would-be rock gods, but also a portrait of small-town America, where survival is often dependent on not giving up hope, foolish as that may be. Growing up can happen at any age, and Thomas Drago provides a profound and touching peek into that painful, universally recognizable process.

The terse, choppy writing style is fitting for the characters and tone, although it somewhat limits the descriptive power of the narration. In terms of editing, the book is cleanly written and polished, with few wasted words and believable dialogue between all the characters. Furthermore, the moments of self-reflection and Dante’s inner monologues are used effectively to keep readers in the loop, without spoon-feeding them plot details or internal revelations.

As a whole, Raised on Rock is a deeply relatable novel of family bonds, loyalty, love and lies, with the sharp, passionate edge of a rock ‘n’ roll origin story.

4.5/5

Lost Time

Let me start by saying I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the husband that offers the opportunity to do a guest post on his blog. Who tells me to "go for it" when I explain that I cannot keep my eyes open mid-day and need a nap. Who cheerfully prepares dinner after working at his actual job all day. Who doesn't get angry that I haven't had any energy this week and can see that I've been struggling. We've known each other for 20 years now. There's still a learning curve. My name is Alexis. Thomas is my husband. This is my 33rd year of knowingly living with lupus.

This week has been especially rough. I've been in a flare pretty much since January 2017, with fluctuations in disease activity. I'm currently on my regular lupus meds and an added course of prednisone. I hate prednisone. It almost always makes me feel worse before better. Again, I am grateful that so far, I've only had to add prednisone. The other drugs are worse. But, I still hate it. I hate the sweats. How it affects my appetite. My sleep (which is messed up anyways, and not only because my husband snores loud enough to shake the walls). My mood (GROWL!). It makes my hands shake and muscles weaker. But, I'm hopeful that this dose will be the kick that knocks my disease back to where I can function like a *normal* human again. Fingers *painfully* crossed.

This isn't a sympathy post. It's an awareness post. Because if you saw me this week, I probably looked and acted just fine in front of you. I smiled and tried to move like nothing was bothering me. I may not have spoken as much as I usually do, but I was polite. Lupus affects everyone differently. And it can affect you in different ways on different days. Usually I deal very well with it. This last week, though? I hate what lupus has cost me this week.

It's cost me time. And honestly, when you've been diagnosed with a life-threatening disease at age 12, you never feel like you have enough of that. I imagine it's more intense than a typical mid-life crisis. You always hear the clock ticking. And every day that you wake up and breathe, you smile. Then you assess. What exactly can I accomplish today? Can I do the things I need to do? Can I do the things I want to do? If I do these things, will I have any energy left for tomorrow?

This week alone, lupus has cost me time with family. Time with my husband. We had the entire house to ourselves last night, and I went to bed. Time with friends. A very special friend asked me to join her for lunch, and I couldn't make it out of the house. It cost me time awake. I had tremendous difficulty getting out of bed every day this week and I had to nap four of the five days. And by "had to nap," I mean it. The fatigue that comes with lupus is crushing. After 33 years, that's the best word I've found for it. It just crushes you. Your mind, your body, your thoughts.

I needed to make two appointments this week. I made them. But, that's about all I've done this entire week. I wanted to pick grapes at a local vineyard and make grape jelly. I wanted to bake some things for the house, to send to the boy at college, and deliver to the people at the high school who work with Thomas. I wanted to walk the neighborhood. I wanted to get quotes out for clients. I wanted to wash my hair more than once. I wanted to shave my legs. I wanted to move without my arms feeling like each weighs 100 pounds. I wanted to breathe without my chest feeling like it's going to burst. I wanted to walk without feeling like I'm dragging a freight train. I wanted to sit, stand, lie down, without constant pain. I wanted to sleep through the night. I wanted to stay awake through the day.  Lupus has had other plans for me. Usually I can deal with it. This week, it's made me angry and bitter. Primarily because I don't know how I'm going to feel tomorrow.

So, what do I do now? How do I make this better? I'm a pro at dealing with this shit. I manage. I adjust. I get angry. I let the anger go. I allow myself the rest my body needs. As selfish as it seems. I give up the time to hopefully better enjoy the time I do have left. Don't think about that too much, though, because it can get depressing real quick.

I'm grateful. That I have family and friends who understand (or try to). That I have a bed to lie down on and a dog who follows my every move, especially when I'm not well. That I have healthcare. That my doctor listens to me. That I can see, hear (kind of - right, Thomas?), smell, taste, touch, and delight in all the wonders of the world around me. Chronic, life-threatening illness offers things that some people miss. I feel badly for them.

Naptime.

Rush to War: On the Edge

In 2015, my younger brother Danny released On the Edge with Rush to War, an alternative rock group that followed his award-winning metal band, The Furnace. In fact, this album was created and developed while The Furnace was putting together their final release, Live Till You Die. The contrast between the two is distinct but both remain outstanding.

The Furnace took the Black Sabbath path to greatness. The one that inspired Metallica and their descendants. Rush to War has more of a Led Zeppelin feel. We hear the Foo Fighters. Maybe The Offspring without the punk edge. My Chemical Romance? Honestly, I'm a little out of my element this time around because I'm not as familiar with the alternative scene. I only know enough not to compare them to Nickleback. But, you've got that Beatles vibe whichever way you go, and you can't escape Nirvana (and The Pixies by default). Either way, it's great fucking music. Again.

Danny is joined by guitarist Casey Weaver, who played with The Furnace starting with Beyond What's Become. The dynamic duo continues to improve each other's game, almost the way a great wide receiver will make a great quarterback even better. Dave Armstrong takes lead vocals. He sang on two albums with The Furnace between the ones that Kevin Flowers recorded. He's amazing. His voice is better suited to this flavor of rock. In fact, the more I listened to The Furnace, the more I associated Kevin's power and range with the heaviness of that music. Dave, however, is as melodic and empathetic as any new rocker I've heard in the past twenty years.

Since I don't have liner notes, I don't know the names of all the musicians, but I love each and every one. Their talent goes beyond the mere session work and elevates this band above my expectations. I figured to be disappointed about the shift away from The Furnace but wasn't. Trust me, the music is better than ever. The ensemble of bass players and drummers provides an outstanding support to the work Danny, Casey, and Dave created. The riffs, leads, rhythms, and drums all excel in a recording that is masterfully produced and engineered. I found myself bopping and singing along to every song. At any given moment during the past week, one was stuck in my head. That's the beauty of great music (and great art). It stays with you long after you walk away.

This time around, I thought it might be interesting (and challenging) to examine the lyrics of the songs. The lack of printed copy forced me to pay attention to the words. Dave offers them with grace and confidence. Here's my take.

The opener, "Another End," assesses our impulses and how we make decisions without thinking of the consequences. This isn't viewed only as the fault of individuals but as a systemic problem inherent in our culture. Dave adds a bit of a rap flavor during the verses, by the way. Think Ozzy in "Let It Die." If you don't want anymore Ozzy references, try Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire."

Track two, "Come What May," addresses how difficult it is to resist change. We're all frustrated that we aren't in control of certain elements of our lives. Dave tells us, "there's not a Goddamn thing that I can do about it anyway." It's at this point that we all want to pound our heads against the fucking wall, but we're comforted by acceptance and tolerance.

"Epitaph," one of my favorites songs, is up next and encourages us all to enjoy the time we have together because life is fleeting. We all should have the desire to be remembered for the positive things we do. We need to make a difference. Even if that impact is only putting a smile on someone's face. Shakespeare's epitaph is my favorite, but if I had to write one for myself, I'd want it to say something about how hard I try every day to be a better person than I was the day before. Oh, and curses be upon you if you touch my bones and all that good shit.

The most tragic song is the fourth, "Now She's Gone." I don't know the exact circumstances, but here we have grieving parents who lament the loss of their teenage daughter. We don't know why the child is gone, but I get the feeling she committed suicide. Not sure why. Perhaps, she got sick and succumbed to her illness. We transition from mourning to anger as the parents don't want to accept that she's never coming home. Knowing my mom lost a child when I was a teenager, this song haunts me and tears me apart. Dave is at his fucking best when he shouts, "And now there's a hole." I watched my mom fall into that hole and don't know if she's ever pulled herself out. Doubtful. It's inspired everything I've written since. See my blog post about 1982.

"Going Back" stands strong at number five, another of my favorites, in its celebration of a returning to your roots. Where you started out doesn't have to be the physical place because you certainly can't go back to your youth, but you can reclaim that spirit. We can't turn back the clock, but we can rejuvenate. A mental return, or an emotional one, is definitely possible. Kind of reminds me of John Lennon's "(Just Like) Starting Over." When he made that record, he wanted to recreate the feel of his earliest rock records that were inspired by Elvis and the other 50s pioneers. We need to keep the memory of who we are and never let it fade.

"Where I Stand" continues the ongoing motif of movement (or transition) present throughout the album. Sometimes, that's going forward, sometimes back. This includes an obvious frustration about the departure of a loved one (or at the very least, a close friend) that leads to uncertainty over how or if they'll ever reconcile. We don't always know where we stand in a relationship. We're always on the brink of disaster. We never really know how close or how far away we are from those we need and believe in. We're at our most vulnerable when we give somebody else the keys to our heart.

Track seven, "Wander," is about the desire to escape a toxic relationship and the struggle to find a way out, leave, or somehow, fly away. It's easy to relate to those moments in our lives when we're in a situation we no longer want to be in. This song covers familiar ground, but almost in the opposite direction "Where I Stand" took us. The uncertainty isn't caused by being left behind. It's about getting stuck and longing for the journey to a new, safer place. (By the way, the riff on this song kicks ass. I know I said I'd focus on the lyrics, but I just couldn't let that one go.)

The last track on the album is called "Today," and finally, time is what's moving. We're clearly told we better make the most out of our lives before it passes by. Seize the day. Make your dreams come true. Don't waste a single moment because this is all we've got and we don't get a second chance. We can't take anything with us, so we need to leave everything we've got out there and be proud of it. The chorus is incredibly catchy and lands this song as one of my three favorites.

I believe Rush to War has another album in the can that hasn't been released. Until then, I hope you're able to order On the Edge, not only for the incredible music carved out by these rockers but for the underlying message of hope.

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.

40 Years Later. The King's Best Songs.

I can't believe Elvis died 40 years ago. When we first heard the news, my mom and I sat together on the stairs near the living room and cried. My dad's gentle "You still have me" not enough to comfort. Even now, all that matters to me is his music. I don't give a shit about anything else. Each time I hear his voice, he tells me "I love you." I could never ask more of an entertainer. Or of anyone else.

Elvis recorded 711 songs in the studio. They've also released hundreds of his live cuts and alternate takes. Here's my list of his best 40 songs in chronological order with minor annotations. These aren't necessarily my favorites. Some are. That would've taken a completely different approach. You don't have to be a dedicated fan to enjoy these treasures. They're revolutionary and timeless. Sift through the crappy '60s soundtracks and the maudlin country of his latter years and you'll find pure gold.

1. That's All Right (7/54) - The Big Bang. As soon as Elvis, Scotty, and Bill jump on this vintage blues track by Arthur Crudup in tiny Sun Studios under the guidance of rock-n-roll founding father Sam Phillips, music and culture are never the same. Also, check out the '68 Comeback performance and his live rendition from August 1970. Two completely different, yet equally remarkable, treatments. The first of three Elvis songs that inspired me to pick up the guitar.

2. Blue Moon of Kentucky (7/54) - The "b" side to "That's All Right." Every bit as riveting and controversial. Audiences didn't know what to think of Elvis' rhythm and blues adaptation of this Bill Monroe country and western classic. Neither did Bill Monroe until he finally conceded and re-recorded his own song in Elvis' style!

3. Good Rockin' Tonight (9/54) - Elvis kicks it into high gear on this second Sun single. The template for all rock songs to follow: driving lead guitar, howling vocals, sexy undertones.

4. Baby, Let's Play House (2/55) - This fourth Sun single finds Elvis exuding confidence and humor. Bill Black slaps the bass while Elvis' hiccuping underscores another sexual romp.

5. Mystery Train (7/55) - The haunting melody and Scotty Moore's churning guitar riff reflect Elvis' longing to conquer the road and subsequently the nation. Fittingly, this was his final single at Sun.

6. Heartbreak Hotel (1/56) - Nobody, including Sam Phillips, thought this choice for Elvis' first national release through RCA would score big. His introduction to the world with this solitary tale of death by suicide shocked audiences and inspired a couple of fabulous Brits to later pen "A Day in the Life" as a musical nod to the King. Paul McCartney voted for this as the greatest rock song of all-time.

7. Blue Suede Shoes (1/56) - Although Carl Perkins scored the big hit on the national charts with his original countrified version, Elvis amps up the tempo and fun in this wild rocker. Scotty Moore's lightning guitar breaks stand as some of the best he ever recorded.

8. My Baby Left Me (1/56) - Another Arthur Crudup blues song turned into straight rock-n-roll with a rumbling drum intro by D.J. Fontana. Elvis rips through the vocals like a caged tiger hungry to be free.

9. Lawdy Miss Clawdy (1/56) - Elvis' cover of Lloyd Price's rhythm and blues smash is both playful and taunting. This is the second song that inspired me to pick up the guitar, especially the '68 Comeback performance where Elvis pounds the guitar and roars the vocals in black leather reclaiming his rock-n-roll throne.

10. Hound Dog (7/56) - Although Big Mama Thornton scored the original hit with her slower blues version, Elvis was inspired by a Las Vegas nightclub act who re-arranged the song into a powerful rocker. The most dynamic of his '50s live performances, this is the song that caused the uproar, forcing television cameras to shoot him from the waist up. Scotty Moore's lead guitar electrifies.

11. Don't Be Cruel (7/56) - This straight-up rhythm and blues signifies a change in Elvis's musical career. Everything he'd released prior had been a melding of country and western with rhythm and blues into rock-n-roll (or rockabilly). This song buries Scotty Moore's guitar (except for that tuned down intro) under a delightful piano rhythm and supporting vocals by the Jordanaires. The first of many hits written for Elvis by musical genius Otis Blackwell. Issued as a double "a" side with "Hound Dog" and spent 11 weeks at #1 on the pop charts.

12. All Shook Up (1/57) - This follow-up Blackwell-penned smash is equally catchy rhythm and blues with a softer guitar and dominant piano. Inspired Paul McCartney to write "She Loves You."

13. One Night (2/57) - Elvis returns to full force playing lead guitar on this bluesy rocker. The modified lyrics downplay the sexuality but Elvis' performance does not. The third song that inspired me to pick up the guitar, especially his '68 Comeback performance.

14. Jailhouse Rock (4/57) - Probably the most recognizable song of Elvis' career thanks to an early incarnation of the music video in the hit movie. The power chords and crashing drums elevate Elvis' raunchy vocals into the heaviest rock song of his career.

15. Stuck on You (3/60) - Elvis hit big with this first post-army single thanks to an Otis Blackwell rhythm and blues number keeping in line with "Don't Be Cruel" and "All Shook Up." Elvis displays a maturity to his playfulness but remains able to unleash fury each time he belts the chorus.

16. It Feels So Right (3/60) - This haunting blues appears on Elvis Is Back, his first and best album after his return from the army. Elvis drives the rhythm guitar in his classic style, letting loose with the vocals in a desperate cry for sexual consummation.

17. Like a Baby (4/60) - Another bluesy rocker off Elvis Is Back, Elvis tears into the soulful lyrics with equal parts anger and defeat. The evocative background vocals by the Jordanaires echo Elvis' call of self-pity and misery.

18. Reconsider Baby (4/60) - This best blues song of Elvis' career includes an incredible sax solo by Boots Randolph, the first on an Elvis record. The defiant sexual swagger of Elvis' vocals is highlighted by his pounding rhythm guitar and catcalls.

19. Little Sister (6/61) - One of the few rockers by Elvis to feature distortion on lead guitar, played by country ax-man Hank Garland with grace and tornadic force. The catchy melody and youthful adoration make this one of the finest performances of Elvis' career.

20. His Latest Flame (6/61) - A lighter rhythm and blues song in the spirit of Otis Blackwell's hits featuring a rockabilly Bo Diddley beat and softer, poignant vocals. Shared the double "a" side with "Little Sister" and soared up the charts on both sides of the Atlantic.

21. Devil in Disguise (5/63) - Bright guitar licks and shifting tempos make this Elvis' most enjoyable hit right before the British Invasion. Elvis undersells the vocals on the verses only to hit with sheer bluster each time he roars through the chorus.

22. It Hurts Me (1/64) - The best track cut while Elvis was lost in Hollywood. This power ballad co-written by Charlie Daniels gave Elvis the freedom to show off his maturing vocals and fight for the respect he'd lost in the industry.

23. Guitar Man/What I'd Say (Uncut Master) (9/67) - One of the best stories of Elvis' recording career is how his entourage snatched country songwriter Jerry Reed off his fishing boat to replicate the cherry picking guitar riff heard on his demo for Elvis' take because the Nashville studio musicians couldn't nail it. This snappy travelogue about a wandering musician is Elvis' "Johnny B. Goode" and opens the door to his inevitable comeback from the nightmare that was Hollywood. Find the uncut version to hear Elvis launch into an improvised rendition of Ray Charles' "What'd I Say" with complete lack of restraint and total exhilaration.

24. Big Boss Man (9/67) - Jerry Reed also plays lead guitar on this rocking blues hit that helps reinvent the rebellious Elvis for modern audiences. His raw, confident vocals are countered by a shrieking harmonica and sax. With a crisp and wild funk unknown to country music at the time, this precursor to what will eventually be known as Elvis' Nashville Sound is unlike anything else he recorded.

25. If I Can Dream (6/68) - The best vocal performance of Elvis' entire career. Perhaps the most passionate one I've ever heard on record. Elvis sings for civil rights in one of only a handful of his politically charged anthems. Legend has it that he collapsed into the fetal position on the studio floor in tears after the master take. He'd finally escaped the shackles of Hollywood.

26. Wearin' That Loved on Look (1/69) - This powerful rocker about betrayal opens From Elvis in Memphis, the second best album of his post-army career. Elvis' raw vocals are fueled by a funky lead guitar, both reckless and raunchy like the rock-n-roll of his youth.

27. In the Ghetto (1/69) - Another political song, this time from the famed Memphis sessions with Chips Moman at the helm of the American Sound Studios. Give the undubbed version a listen to hear how beautiful the rhythm guitar sounds accompanying Elvis' tender, yet dramatic, vocals. A poignant saga at a volatile time in our nation's history.

28. Suspicious Minds (1/69) - Elvis returned to the top of the pop charts for the first time in seven years with this modern rock song about mistrust between lovers. Elvis fuses rock, country, and rhythm and blues into his own brand of soul. Definitely the best of his non-'50s songs, this became the centerpiece of his live show for the remainder of his career. Check out his legendary performance in the rockumentary Elvis That's the Way It Is.

29. Stranger in My Own Hometown (2/69) - Supported by legendary studio guitarist Reggie Young, Elvis launches into this inspirational blues number about a hero who's lost his way. The relentless chorus and self-deprecating humor highlight Elvis' awareness of how he disappeared from the music scene while making disappointing trash in Hollywood.

30. Power of My Love (2/69) - Another excellent cut from the American Sound Studios, Elvis's sexual vocal abandon is equalled by more powerful bluesy guitar by Reggie Young. Elvis' vocals on this underrated modern rock hit are energized and impassioned.

31. Kentucky Rain (2/69) - The final song from the American Sound Studios to make my cut, Elvis takes this Eddie Rabbit-penned country song into new territory as a soulful rocker with dramatic tempo shifts and a pounding piano by then unknown Ronnie Milsap.

32. Polk Salad Annie (Live) (2/70) - The best live rock song of Elvis' career. I prefer the Elvis That's the Way It Is version for its earth-shaking false ending and outro, but the infectious bass romp in Madison Square Garden makes for raucous and compelling soul as only Elvis can deliver.

33. An American Trilogy (Live) (2/72) - The third political entry in my list, this medley of spiritual songs reflect how Elvis embraced America with all its glory and imperfections. His vocals soar to operatic heights as they often did in the '70s. The dramatic orchestration and powerful momentum shifts make this Elvis' unmatched showstopper.

34. Separate Ways (3/72) - The mournful longing of Elvis' vocals and melodic lead piano accent the most mature offering of Elvis' latter career. With divorce looming, Elvis reaches out to his beloved wife and innocent child in a chilling ballad of loss and despair.

35. Burning Love (3/72) - One of his last rockers. Possibly his best. A throwback to the '50s infused with chord changes inspired by Creedence Clearwater Revival. The churning guitar riff and swampy Southern-rock catapult Elvis' soulful vocals into a passionate hymn.

36. Always on My Mind (Alternate Master) (3/72) - Issued as a double "a" side with "Separate Ways," another solitary ballad co-written for Elvis by "Suspicious Minds" creator Mark James. The alternate master is hard to locate but worth a listen for Ronnie Tutt's rolling drum breaks.

37. My Boy (12/73) - An overlooked gem from his '70s catalog, this evocative tale of caution and doubt offers tempo shifts unique to many of Elvis' most endearing adult ballads. Recorded at the famous Stax Studios in Memphis, Elvis reaches a new pinnacle of country and soul with this tearjerker.

38. Promised Land (12/73) - Elvis wouldn't cover a song if he couldn't add to the original, and he doesn't disappoint with this Chuck Berry rock-n-roll masterpiece. James Burton's leads are the best of his tenure with Elvis. The song drives wild into rhythmic frenzy with thumping bass, heavy drums, and striking piano. Also cut at Stax, Elvis rarely had as much fun rocking out this late in his career.

39. For the Heart (2/76) - Dennis Linde, writer of "Burning Love," penned this inspired country tune for Elvis who recorded it as part of his famed Jungle Room sessions in the den at Graceland. If you listen to the countless alternate takes, you'll see how much fun Elvis had with songs he admired despite the addiction and despair that ravaged his final years. A vigorous rocker with swinging background vocals provided by gospel quartet, J.D. Sumner and the Stamps.

40. Way Down (10/76) - This final hit during Elvis' lifetime is beyond magical. Elvis ratchets up the energy in what becomes almost a remake of "Burning Love" in style and passion. J.D. Sumner again hits those famous low notes as Elvis finds his love and passion in unrivaled soulful depths.

Bonus Track
A Little Less Conversation (JXL Remix) (2002/Original Recording 6/68) - This incredible remix launched Elvis into the 21st century after appearing in a commercial during the World Cup and in the box office smash Ocean's 11. The groovy guitar and gritty vocals trace back to the '68 Comeback Special, and JXL compliments Elvis with a bright energy and timeless sound for a new generation of music lovers.

This list was next to impossible to create. Elvis gave us so much to choose from. I didn't pick many ballads because I think the rockers belong. Elvis was the King of Rock-n-Roll for a reason. Many people forget, or choose to ignore, that fact.

So many things have been said about Elvis, but my favorite quote comes from John Lennon (I'm paraphrasing slightly here): "Elvis was my religion."

I still believe in him. Hope you find something worth listening to. Hope the world continues to do so long after we've all left the building.

Why I Love Wonder Woman

Because she kicks ass.

Because she has integrity.

Because she loves.

Because of her innocence.

Because she makes me smile.

Because I never thought for a single moment that she couldn't accomplish what she set out to do.

Because I believe in heroes.

Because I enjoyed watching her kick the shit out of the bad guys.

Because I never questioned whether or not she could do it.

Because she was a role model for my wife when Lynda Carter created the role.

Because Gal Gadot is one for my daughter now.

Because Gal Gadot was five months pregnant when she filmed the movie. (Are you fucking kidding me!)

Because of all the posts I've seen on social media, especially by my former female students, praising her greatness.

Because she inspires.

Because she empowers.

Because she listens.

Because she's a fierce warrior.

Because she takes all the fire for the soldiers at they cross No-Man's Land during the siege of Veld.

Because she's the God Killer.

Because she brings hope to the current DC Comics Cinematic Universe, which sucks without her. (Where are you Christopher Reeve and Michael Keaton?)

Because of how she sees snow for the first time.

Because "Really, specs? And suddenly she's not the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"

Because she believes in us.

Because our world needs her.

Drago Goes to the Movies or How I Learned to Love Writing Horror Stories (Pt. 1)

Why I Write Horror (Pt. 1)

This is the first in a series of entries about what inspired me to write horror stories. I've started with movies as they've always been an integral part of who I am as an artist. My first ambition was to be a filmmaker. As children, my younger brother and I would spend hours pretending our bedroom was a movie studio. We'd develop scripts and act at our stories as if the cameras were rolling. Those are some of the finest memories I have of my childhood. You'll notice a concentration of movies in the early 80s. This is when I first started writing with intent and absorbed everything I could as an artist. I kept this list to ten. It isn't intended to be a reckoning of the scariest or the best horror movies ever made. Not even close. It's only a compilation of what influenced me at various moments in my life.

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

The first of a handful of scary movies I watched on Saturday mornings while growing up in NYC. This film was really my first introduction to the classics: Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man. It might surprise you to know that the character who resonated with me the most at the time was the Wolf Man. Lon Chaney Jr.'s portrayal of a disconsolate, misunderstood villain incited my early interest in monsters and my portrait of compassion for those less fortunate. He's the reason I give my heroes flaws. We're compelled to shoulder those who are imperfect.

The Blob (1958)

Clearly, no movie has ever frightened me more in my entire life than The Blob. I shudder even now when I picture that mournful old man digging around in the molten meteor as the film opens. The power to consume is frightening. I have a dread of being eaten alive. Many of the villains I create in my stories are the Blob, often in human form.  

Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster (1972)

My horror stories include their fair share of science fiction. Godzilla as a metaphor for nuclear destruction; the Smog Monster as the embodiment of human corruption and waste. Even as a child I understood these concepts. They scared the shit out of me. Still do. I love cheering for monsters. Godzilla was my ultimate childhood hero.

The Shining (1980)

The first horror movie that gave me pause as an artist. This was before I read the novel. I now understand the film to be something completely different than what Stephen King wrote. Stanley Kubrick used only the title of the source material and the character names. Nothing else is the same. I love both. I watched this movie dozens of times on bootlegged HBO and VHS. It made me start thinking about how characters evolve, interact. The vulnerability of children. The destructive force of humanity. The power of love and thought. I embrace all these themes in my writing. It forced me to understand how films tell stories with camera shots and editing. After seeing this movie, I wanted that authorship and control.

An American Werewolf in London (1981)

Another film watched endlessly on HBO and VHS. Looking back, the movie reminds me more of Dracula than anything else. The mystery of the moor, the insidious locals, the haunting zombies, the graphic violence all quenched my thirst for everything graphic. I appreciated the understated humor. The special effects and rhythmic chords of "Bad Moon Rising" during the initial transformation sequence were enough to captivate my youthful vigor.  A big influence on the early horror stories I crafted with pen and paper in my bedroom after dark.

Silent Rage (1982)

This critical and box office failure retells the Frankenstein story. I loved it. I often wonder if my Sheriff Brad Gleason is the reincarnation of this Chuck Norris character, but without the martial arts expertise. I'm often impressed with the subtle presence of science fiction in horror. The medical lab and genetic modifications are in Queensboro. Like the Wolf Man, I have pity on the monster, a mentally ill patient who violently murders members of his family. I appreciate how the film blurs the lines of good and evil and punches home the notion that evil can never be stopped. It's why I enjoy placing cliffhangers at the ends of chapters and entire novels.

Poltergeist (1982)

Probably my all-time favorite horror movie. Spielberg doesn't get credit for directing, but his signature's all over this nail-biter. My mom lost a baby girl a few short months after this release. In some ways, I always connected her loss with the little girl who gets taken in Poltergeist and equated the terror and heartfelt anger of JoBeth Williams with all the pain my mom endured. This film infuses everything I've ever written.

The Fly (1986)

Jeff Goldblum's best role. My heart breaks for him when that little fly gets caught in the pod. His decay and futile attempts to resist the transformation only serve to increase my empathy. By this time, I was reading and writing horror at a rate I've never equalled. The Fly fed my appetite for the grotesque while massaging my compassion for the diseased. The special effects of Brundlefly impress me even today. The tagline "Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid." could be the best ever.

Event Horizon (1997)

After a lull in writing once I graduated college, I had a short run publishing short stories again in the late 90s. This film reinvigorated my passion for horror while feeding my literary stroke for more science fiction. The mysteries of the universe and the isolation of deep space create an intriguing landscape for this disturbing film and my creative output. I visit its domain in my latest novel Winter where villain Amanda Simmons attempts to build a bridge through space-time and across parallel dimensions.

Super 8 (2011)

This movie was Stranger Things before Stranger Things ever happened. It re-awakened my soul to everything I did and wrote while growing up at the dawn of the 80s. Super 8 is directly responsible for my Crow Creek series. The film explores the relationship between father and son and exposes the challenges of dealing with loss. I watched not only with a nostalgic yearning for my childhood but also with the hope and longing for what the future held for my writing. Since its release, I've written five novels, six short stories, and two plays. The second most prolific run of my career.