A Brief History of Heavy Things: how rock music changed my life and who is to blame

A Brief History of Heavy Things:

how rock music changed my life and who is to blame

It all started with Bon Jovi.

Yeah, that's right, Bon freakin' Jovi. At some point in my teenage years (October 1994, accuracy fans. I was 13.) I found myself with £10 in my pocket, walking into a CD shop in the Metro Centre, having heard what in hindsight turned out to be a terrible power ballad called 'Always'. I walked out with my first ever 'rock' CD, Bon Jovi's Crossroads compilation. Before this, my musical tastes were, shall we say, undefined. I was into odd musicians like Kate Bush and whatever was popular at the time. Somebody once asked me what I thought of Pearl Jam and I just kind of shrugged. Bon Jovi, I am slightly ashamed to say, changed my life.

I loved the 'heavier' songs. To this day, I still skip ballads but songs like 'Livin' On A Prayer' and 'You Give Love A Bad Name' were, at the time, the heaviest things I had ever heard. And then... A friend of mine at school, equally bored in a Food Tech class, started telling me about something called Megadeth. Just the name had my 14 year-old head swimming. He graciously allowed me to borrow their Youthanasia album (the pun probably going right over the same 14- year-old head).

Having previously only heard Richie Sambora's voicebox-infused riffs and identikit solos, the effect of hearing 'Train Of Consequences' was nothing short of staggering. I had no idea a guitar could be played so fast, be so heavy. Sorry, poodle-hair, but my tastes were turning darker and nastier by the day.

A chance encounter with Nirvana on a school bus and a channel hop stop on Red Hot Chilli Peppers broadened my horizons a bit but the real clincher was when I read three names in a magazine: Metallica, Pearl Jam and Therapy?. There was no going back for me. Metallica's Black Album was purchased in HMV and despite having not heard much of them, a Pearl Jam's Ten was picked up in Music Zone. One of my more vivid memories, however, was picking up a copy of Therapy?'s Troublegum (I understood the pun this time) in Gosforth library, copying it onto both sides of a 90-minute tape and listening to it in my room. Over and over and over. To this day it remains my favourite album and a more accurate document of my frustrated teenage years than I could possibly write myself. And yes, I have since bought a copy.

I found a copy of Kerrang! The Album, on sale in the Virgin Megastore. It was a double-tape compilation of new and classic rock tunes: Soundgarden, Pantera, Slayer, all in the bag. Some bizarre Christmas present requests saw me enter the world of death metal (and you have to appreciate the irony of being given a Deicide album on Christmas day. Thanks Mam), and stoner rock with Kyuss' Blues For The Red Sun. On separate whims, I bought Nine Inch Nails' Downward Spiral album, Strapping Young Lad's City and Monster Magnet's Dopes To Infinity. I fell in love with all three and explored the genres more and more, much to the detriment of my bank account but the benefit of my frankly exquisite CD collection. I bought early release import versions of Clutch's Elephant Riders and the debut album from some little band called Korn. I was gutted when everyone else caught on with that one; I saw them first! I'm still into Cutch; Korn, not so much...

I don't know how well I'm getting this across, but the reason I remember these things so well is that by now it's in the blood. I have vivid memories of the times and places where I bought the CDs that changed my life and there's a reason for that; this music affected me, changed me and once it's in your blood there's no going back.

So there's a reason my head is mostly filled with song lyrics rather than important life skills, why I get excited about something as trivial as a new release and why I could probably represent England in the noble art of the air guitar. And if anyone is wondering why I'm canny weird, why I don't like the crap on the radio, or why I don't 'Grow out of that shit', you can blame Jon Bon Jovi, his frankly ridiculous hair, 100-watt smile and huge, overwrought love songs. I know I do.