Metal Chicks Anoymous

Hello, my name is Chrissy and I was a Heavy Metal Chick.

It's true, in high school I wore stretch jeans with zippers down the sides, a black suede jacket (with fringe, no less), black pointy toed leather boots, and listened to Metallica and Danzig. Why am I bringing this up now? Because over the weekend I watched possibly the funniest thing I had ever seen: VH-1's 40 Least Metal Moments. (I'd put a link here, but there's nothing useful on the website to link to, sorry). I too was appalled to find that Mariah Carey covered a Def Leopard song (Bringin' on the Heartbreak), Sheryl Crow covered Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses, and blasphemy of blasphemy, Celine Dion covered AC/DC's Shook Me All Night Long. What were they thinking? Why did anyone let them? Ick. I'm not even going to get into Pat Boone's "metal album".

I know that this music is no longer a part of my life, but I still can mourn it's complete misuse. "Bringin' on the Heartbreak" still conjurs up memories of bad junior high school dances, but listening to Mariah's soft and uninspired rendition of it makes me want to bang my head - into a wall, just to make the noise stop.

So, why, you might ask, was I doning ripped blue jeans and denim jackets instead of black lipstick and white face? There were no goths to speak of in my town or those surrounding it. I didn't know they existed. Despite growing up on The Cure and Siouxsie & The Banshees, I never associated them with a "culture". When metal "died" I was on my way to college and had already replaced Appetite for Destruction with Pretty Hate Machine. New friends gently introduced me to bands like Sisters of Mercy and gave name to songs and bands (Peter Murphy, Chameleons) that I had been listening too, but never knew who they were, thanks to recorded tapes that I stole from my sister. These same friends brought me to my first Goth club when I was just turning 19. Up until then, my roomate had been bringing me to Boston dance clubs and I couldn't figure out why anyone would want to go to these things. At the Goth club guys didn't try to (rudely, and literaly) pull you away from your friends as a pick up tactic. As a matter of fact, people just left you alone. I appreciated this. And dear God, the guys were beautiful. The long hair and pretty faces that I had been fooled into believing were to be found within the Heavy Metal scene, thanks to all those damn lead singers, were all actually in this new scene in all their angsty glory, complete with beautifully done eyeliner and clothes that made most girls sigh with jealousy (this was before Marylin Manson came along and ruined the fashion sense). Yep, it was all the pretty boys that completed my fall in to the world of Goth. So sue me.

So yes, I was a Heavy Metal Chick. But ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I didn't know any better. I didn't know that there was a more fitting place for me. I do not regret the time I spent tryng to tease my hair (which I quickly gave up on) or singing along to When the Levy Breaks. Even though I have left it behind, I know in my heart that Celine singing Shook Me All Night Long, is just wrong and a blot on our culture.

I still hear Zepplin's Tangerine in my head when I see a copy of Tangerine by Bloor. Though they have NOTHING to do with each other, it's a sign that somewhere in there is a girl who's still bangin' her head.