Published on Sep 7, 1997
Admission number one: I have never been a fan of heavy metal
band Motley Crue.
Sure, there were a few songs of theirs I liked, like “Shout At
The Devil” and “Looks That Kill.” But when I was a full-fledged
headbanger back in the early ’80s, I didn’t have a driving need to
run out and buy new Motley Crue albums as they came out. As I got
older, I finally decided to pick up some Motley Crue albums – most
of them for about two dollars at my local used record store.
Admission number two: I would rather have Dr. Kervorkian be my
personal physician than listen to their 1989 release
Dr. Feelgood again. Their “masterpiece” to some, it is now
the musical equivalent of Jack-In-The-Box: it’s obnoxious, boring –
and at times, it can make you feel sick.
Vince Neil and crew, at the time, seemed to want to get their
act together and put out a real album – one with songs that had
substance and musicianship. They hooked up with Bob Rock, and
invited a whole gaggle of friends over to add to the project; you
almost need a scorecard to figure out who is singing on what
track.
The title track talks about a subject at least one member of the
band once found endearing: drugs – namely, this song tells the
story of a drug dealer about to fall from grace. At one time, I
enjoyed this song – and it still is probably the best song on the
album. That’s not a great endorsement, when the first full-length
track is the peak of the experience.
Many of the other singles have not stood up well to the test of
time: “Kickstart My Heart,” “S.O.S. (Same Ol’ Situation),” ad
nauseam. The harmonies are not the greatest, and the musicianship
is weak. (I will admit the sparse use of the talkbox on “Kickstart
My Heart” is good – I’ve always said that toy is good when used
sparingly.)
Many of the songs on
Dr. Feelgood sink to the cock-rock lows – and for Motley
Crue, it’s hard to imagine how one could slip lower than the
gutter. Just the song titles say it all: “Slice Of Your Pie,”
“Sticky Sweet,” “She Goes Down”… if one didn’t think the band was
serious, it may have been humorous. Robin Zander and Rick Nielsen
of Cheap Trick must have been really hard up for cash when they
agreed to provide backup vocals on “She Goes Down.” Even
heavy-metal sensation Bryan Adams (that’s called sarcasm, kids)
provides backing vocals on “Sticky Sweet” – oh, yeah, real
convincing, going from “Everything I Do (I Do For You)” to a song
with lyrics like “Now when I’ve done good / She slaps me on the
ass.”
And Motley Crue should
never have been conned into believing they could pull off a
power ballad! Anyone who made “Home Sweet Home” off
Theatre Of Pain such a hit is guilty of the
piece-of-buffalo-shit performance on “Without You.” Neil may have
been a decent screamer for the heavy metal genre, but he’s no
lounge lizard.
To the headbanger, the cries of “Sacrilege!” are probably being
screamed right now. No, it’s just truth:
Dr. Feelgood was, for its time, the last act of a desparate
band. Motley Crue was beginning to run out of ideas and steam; if
Girls, Girls, Girls was a potential warning sign, then
Dr. Feelgood should have been the fire alarm. And let’s face
it, this was never a band that was into deep meanings and real
musicianship. When I think of rock drummers, I think of people like
Neil Peart, Lars Ulrich and Bill Ward – not Tommy Lee. Nikki Sixx
was never a great bassist, and Mick Mars – okay, he could
occasionally pull a tasty guitar riff out of his axe, but
that’s all the credit I’ll give.
Following a “best-of” collection two years later, Neil would be
shown the door (though he would be back in the band as of this past
year), and Motley Crue would go on to record an under-rated album
with John Corabi. But
Dr. Feelgood seemed like Motley Crue’s career had
flatlined.