Favorite Songs From My Childhood: A Musical Reverie

Many of you may have read previously that my first concert was Alice Cooper in 1972. I was twelve years old at the time, and was visiting my devious older cousins in Texas, who snuck me off to the show without parental approval (bless you, Stevie and Tommy!). Needless to say, a 12 year-old seeing Alice Cooper in 1972 was akin to Alice Liddel falling down the rabbit hole and entering a Wicked Wonderland. Feed your head, indeed! It was rather like: wait...you can do THAT on stage...and get paid for it? Holy fuck!

Upon returning home, I secretly sold my ten-speed bike (telling my parents it had been stolen by some stoner hoodlum), and with the ill-gotten proceeds -- a whole $35, if I recall -- I purchased a used Silvertone acoustic guitar with the action on the strings so high you could almost squeeze your hand between the fret board and strings. In hindsight, I perhaps had more zeal than business sense, but I learned to play the hard way (echoing the final shriek on "Helter Skelter", "I got blisters on my fingers!"), and I still play some 45 years later. All because of the exciting adolescent spectacle of Alice writhing with a boa constrictor on stage and later being hanged from a gallows during the playing of the song "Killer".

Naturally, my musical tastes changed dramatically and expanded rapidly during that musically eventful year of 1972, which, along with 1971 and 1973, can be considered the most remarkable three-year period in rock music history (because music does not exist in an annual bubble like it would on a movie soundtrack). From 1971 to 1973 you could hear any number of incredible new releases (on those great rebel FM radio stations of the time): Love It To Death, Killer, School's Out and Billion Dollar Babies by Alice Cooper, Aqualung, Thick as a Brick, A Passion Play and Living in the Past by Jethro Tull, ZoSo (Volume IV) and Houses of the Holy from Led Zeppelin, The Yes Album, Fragile and Close to the Edge by Yes, Machine Head and Made in Japan from Deep Purple, Trilogy and Brain Salad Surgery from ELP, Seventh Sojourn by The Moody Blues, Meddle, Obscured by Clouds and Dark Side of the Moon from Pink Floyd, Procol Harum Live: In Concert with the Edmonton Symphony, Demons and Wizards and The Magician's Birthday by Uriah Heep, Foxtrot and Selling England by the Pound by Genesis, Harvest by Neil Young, Smokin' from Humble Pie, Low Spark of High Heeled Boys by Traffic, The Grand Wazoo and Over-Nite Sensation by Frank Zappa, Master of Reality, Vol. 4 and Sabbath Bloody Sabbath by Black Sabbath, At Fillmore East and Brothers and Sisters from the Allman Brothers, Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane by David Bowie, Who's Next and Quadrophenia from The Who, There Goes Rhymin' Simon from Paul Simon, Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main St. by The Rolling Stones....and on and on and on. The list of rock masterpieces from that three-year span is literally and aurally amazing, and, dare I say, eclipses the three-year period from 1967 through 1969 in sheer brilliance (even with The Beatles, Hendrix and The Doors).

But that isn't what I've come here to talk about.

Instead, I would like to refer back to the point in time where I was not musically informed (or tendentiously rabid). I was watching ancient reruns of The Ed Sullivan Show one evening recently, and, rapt as I was in a melodious reverie, I thought back to the period when I first became self-aware (let's say age three or four) up until the the moment Alice Cooper stole my musical virginity one steamy summer night in Texas in 1972. You may ask, what would a four year-old be listening to in 1964, or an eight year-old in 1968? Granted, the list would not be esoteric and arcane, limited as I was to AM radio and shows like Ed Sullivan, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, American Bandstand and Robin Seymour's Swingin' Town (a local Detroit version of Bandstand). So, no, I wasn't listening to The Mothers, The Velvet Underground, Captain Beefheart or The United States of America's "American Metaphysical Circus", but I can recall quite vividly the songs I really loved from the era, and in many cases where I first heard them.

Looking back, one could say the song list is naive and innocent, and I suppose I was fairly shallow as a child; however, given the age of the Vietnam War, The Bay of Pigs. campus unrest, the Detroit Riots, the assassinations of Martin Luther King, John and Robert Kennedy, Haight-Ashbury, Woodstock and Altamont, I have no illusions regarding the sheltered life I lived in an all white, middle-class suburb of Detroit with block after block of brick bungalows and ranch-style homes, where no one locked their doors and kids could roam the neighborhood free and easy, at least, until the streetlights came on and your mother would start bellowing your name from the front porch. Or, if she were perturbed, your first and middle name. If she were really pissed off, it would be you first, middle and confirmation name (only you fellow former Catholics will know what I'm talking about).

And I believe, even as an adolescent back then, that kids had a more intimate grasp of music, because music, like reading actual books, was more omnipresent and central to our development than the modern multiverse of the internet, wi-fi, streaming, downloads, clouds and iPhones. We had six TV channels in Detroit: 2,4,7 and 9 (from Windsor, Canada), along with the UHF offerings channels 50 and 56 (PBS), and everything was in black-and-white (even Disney's The Wonderful World of Color), until we could afford the laughably small and incredibly expensive color TVs new to the market (often the console variety with TV below and turntable up top). But what could a poor boy do if it was raining outside and he was faced with an entire afternoon of soap operas and game shows? I could either read, or listen to music.

So, everyone had a portable, hand-held AM transistor radio. They were the "Walkmans" of the day. And when you weren't watching the scant offerings on TV, you'd scroll between the Tigers' game on WJR and music on CKLW or WKNR (Keener 13). It wasn't until the very late 60's when FM became readily available that you traded in your AM for one o' them thar high-fallootin' multi-band radios that offered AM, FM, Short Wave and Radio Guam (or at least scratchy Quebecois patois from somewhere in Canada).  But you dialed in because often there was nothing better to do. And the music, even for a nine year-old, was a revelation!

Therefore, and without further exposition, here is a list of songs I listened to and loved during the 1960s (and up to 1971). So, basically, up to the age of eleven. Here are over 60 for the 60s:

I Want To Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
I was still three years old on February 9, 1964, the date The Beatles first appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show (I hit the ripe old age of four on Feb. 25th). And to show you the power of The Beatles at the time, "I Want To Hold Your Hand" was the first "real" song I learned to sing all the way through. More on The Beatles later.

The Battle of New Orleans - Johnny Horton
I heard this over a neighborhood kid's house. We'd sing this and Fess Parker's Ballad of Davy Crockett, as well as The Daniel Boone Theme. I even had a coonskin cap to go with my Daisy Ricochet air-rifle (not a real BB gun, we were too young for that, but you could could cock it, pack the muzzle with dirt and still shoot someone's eye out).

We're a Couple of Misfits - Hermey the Dentist and Rudolph
Bumbles bounce! I have memorized every word of Rankin-Bass' Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. I have dropped acid watching it in the 70's. I have watched it every year since it came out in 1964. And yes, I am obsessed.

Puff the Magic Dragon - Peter, Paul and Mary
No, we kids didn't not know about the alleged drug allusions in this song -- it came out in 1963 for Christ's sake! No one did drugs in 1963 but beatniks and jazz musicians, right? You might as well throw in Leaving on a Jet Plane and Stewball to the list because I actually received a copy of the album Peter, Paul and Mary: Ten Years Together on my birthday in 1970. I loved that album as a ten year old. I learned lyrical sarcasm from I Dig Rock and Roll Music.

The Adams Family Theme
Very early on, my mom wouldn't allow me to watch The Adams Family, because it was "too weird". But for whatever reason, The Munsters was okay to watch. Moms are weird.

Linus and Lucy - Vince Guaraldi Trio
Yes, this is the actual title of the Charlie Brown "Christmas Song" we've all come to know and love. This composition was actually part of an insidious 1965 government plot to force kids to love jazz through the medium of cartoons. Just like we learned to love sugar from the encrusted children's cereals of the time. I believe Calvin and Hobbes referred to one brand as "Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs".

I'm Henry the Eighth I am - Herman's Hermits
Again, never underestimate the reach of Ed Sullivan in the 1960's. If it were Sunday night, you were forced to sit through the god-awful Lawrence Welk Show (and even as a child I knew it was god-awful), and if you behaved, you were allowed to stay up and watch the British Invasion groups on Ed Sullivan. And, of course, Topo Gigio.

Heartful of Soul - The Yardbirds
I had no idea who Eric Clapton was, let alone Jeff Beck. But this was a cool tune that I well remember (even if I could not grasp the concept of Beck playing the guitar like a sitar).

The Sounds of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel
The song deeply affected me when I was a kid. Surprisingly, I first heard it played by a socially-conscious nun in the Catholic grade school I attended. Thinking back, she was probably younger than I recall, but those black habits always added ten years on the sisters. I also recall loving Scarborough Fair/Canticle, which, the nun explained, was a traditional English ballad where a man sets his lover on completing impossible tasks juxtaposed onto an anti-war song. I don't believe she used the word "juxtaposed" to we 2nd graders, however.

Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds
The attack of the socially-conscious nuns returns! This time foisting Ecclesiastes on us impressionable children under the beguiling guise of rock music!

Batman Theme 
Everyone sang this song. The lyrics were incredibly easy to remember. Of course, there was also the great Spiderman Theme, the hilarious Hulk Theme, the Iron Man Theme, the Captain America Theme, the Submariner Theme and my favorite the Thor Theme. And lets not forget the coolest cartoon of the 1960s, Jonny Quest. Oh, and later, it was Scooby Doo! But I also forgot The Flintstones and The Jetsons. We were humming cartoon jingles all day.

Tomorrow Never Knows - The Beatles
The Beatles cartoon ran from 1965 to 1969. I watched it religiously every weekend. It's hilarious to think this song appeared on a children's cartoon (the episode appeared in 1967), but it was certainly cool and spooky, and I've always equated the birds/bats in the cartoon to the effects on the song.

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - Thurl Ravenscroft
It's 1966, and every little kid in America is trying to sing bass. If you weren't aware, Mr. Ravenscroft was also the voice of Tony the Tiger on the Kellogg's Frosted Flakes commercials.

Dedicated Follower of Fashion - The Kinks
Sarcasm was Ray Davies' stock and trade. Even a kid could catch that.

They're Coming to Take Me Away - Napoleon XIV
It's 1966 and this was simply the most delightfully demented song ever written.

Lara's Theme - Maurice Jarre
I remember being taken to see Dr. Zhivago when I was little. I didn't really get much from the movie at the time (except remembering the blood on the snow -- seriously!), other than it was incredibly long. But I've always loved Jarre's soundtrack.

California Dreamin' - The Mamas and the Papas
What a melancholy kid I must have been!

Sloop John B - The Beach Boys
Hey, it was about a ship. And it seemed to be sailored by a collection of drunks and malcontents.

Jennifer Juniper - Donovan
Beautiful song I recall first hearing in one of those mini jukeboxes that was afixed to the wall of a booth at a diner (usually blocked by the catsup and mustard containers). You put in a dime and heard however many songs. Then, of course, my favorite Donovan song of all time came out on his next album, Atlantis.

Nights in White Satin - The Moody Blues
Another beautiful song that I thought was just as beautiful on AM radio. The problem is, I can't recall if I fell in love with this song when it was first released as a single in 1967, or when it was re-released and became a top ten hit again in 1972.

Green, Green Grass of Home - Tom Jones
Yes, as an adolescent I liked Tom Jones. I liked Delilah and She's a Lady as well. Must've been from his TV show or something.

Gentle on My Mind - Glen Campbell
Oh yeah, and Glen Campbell. I liked him too. By the Time I Get To Phoenix, for instance.

White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane
I remember watching this on Ed Sullivan and it scared the shit out of me. It's probably the first song that had sort of effect on me. It did get me to read Alice in Wonderland, however.

For Pete's Sake - The Monkees
The Monkees were big back in the 60's, and no kid really cared if they could play their instruments, and their TV show was warped enough to keep you watching (I even remember Frank Zappa showing up on one episode), and the songs were decent, like I'm Not Your Stepping Stone.

Classical Gas - Mason Williams
I have loved this song from the first moment I heard it. I still love it.

Touch Me - The Doors
It was 1968 and my parents thought the Smothers Brothers were hilarious. I think they probably enjoyed Jim Morrison acting all Frank Sinatra-ish on "Touch Me". Of course, I never really asked them their opinion of the follow-up Wild Child, which is decidedly more subversive.

Time of the Season - The Zombies
"What's your name? Who's your daddy? Is he rich? Is he rich like me?" I repeated that stanza over and over in menacing tones. Well, as menacing as an 8 year-old could get.

New York Mining Disaster 1941 - The Bee Gees
Yes, at one time I liked the Bee Gees, because they were basically a poor man's Beatles. My flirtation with their music ended with the end of the 1960s. I also loved Lonely Days.

Ode to Billy Joe - Bobbie Gentry
Whatever happened to Bobbie Gentry?

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay - Otis Redding
I learned to whistle with this song.

Coca-Cola Douche - The Fugs
But mom, it was the kids across the street that made me listen to it! Honestly, the family across the street had seven kids and one of the older ones left this on the turntable for the younger kids to listen to. I also remember that big hit Saran Wrap. Did I understand what the hell they were talking about? Not really, but we knew it was dirty as hell!

The Weight - The Band
Heh...they said "fanny". Loved the part about Crazy Chester.

A Boy Named Sue - Johnny Cash 
I have always loved Johnny Cash. Ever since I can remember. I don't know why. It's not like my parents were country-western fans (they were more partial to Tommy and Glenn Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Sinatra, Al Martino, Tony Bennet, Jerry Vale, Andy Williams, etc.). But a "Boy Named Sue" was just such a great story song. Also loved I Walk the Line and Ring of Fire.

Brand New Key - Melanie
Okay, I was ten or eleven. I have no other excuse.

Burning Bridges - The Mike Curb Congregation
I saw Kelly's Heroes at a drive-in when it came out in 1970. It is still one of my favorite war movies. What? What's a drive-in? Use Wikipedia to find out.

My Sweet Lord - George Harrison
George was my Beatle. You didn't have choice back then. It was either John, Paul, George or Ringo. That's it. Either or. Perhaps because we were both born on February 25th. Apple Scruffs from All Things Must Pass was also great at the time.

You are Everything - The Stylistics
Who knew guys were singing this song?

Day After Day - Badfinger
One of my all time favorites. Perhaps because it was so Beatles-esque.

Look What They've Done To My Song, Ma - The New Seekers
A lovely warped song. It's the violins, you see. I didn't know you were allowed to do that with violins. Some classical music rule or another.

Papa Was a Rolling Stone - The Temptations
One of the coolest songs ever written.

Aqualung - Jethro Tull
Hey, that Jethro guy just said "Snot is running down his nose"! It was love at first listen.

Footstompin' Music - Grand Funk
Mark, Don and Mel! This was big in 1971, along with I'm Your Captain.

Hello, It's Me - Todd Rundgren
Todd was great back then. I could listen to anything of his. Something. Anything.

Bang a Gong - T. Rex
Because rebellion for pre-teens in 1971 meant Alice Cooper and Marc Bolan!

One Tin Soldier - Coven
Billy Jack will kick your ass.

Moonshadow - Cat Stevens
If there were a soundtrack for my life between the ages of eleven and fifteen, the Cat would be on it. Every bit of angst and worry could be assuaged by a Cat Stevens album. Somehow, he understood. Throw in Wild World and Father and Son.

Oompa Loompa Veruca Salt Song - Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
Every kid in America was singing this song. Twisted! And the Johnny Depp version sucks. Gene Wilder is Willy Wonka.

Yellow Submarine Movie - The Beatles 
I could've chosen 50 Beatles songs and that wouldn't adequately account for the effect the band had on me as a youngster. I won't list them all, because you've heard them all. But I'll leave you with a goodly number in this video compilation of the movie, which I probably saw in late 68 or early 69. The Blue Meanies have invaded Pepperland!

Kings of the Sleaze: The Nastiest Rock Guitar Riffs, Licks and Leads of the 1960s and 1970s

It is fashionable on music forums, particularly those of a progressive ilk, to discuss guitar tone, and by proper tone the usual inference regards fluidity, harmonics, clean sound, and the appropriate amount of the appropriate pedals to enhance the performance, but not necessarily to overdrive or distort the proceedings. Hence, you get discussions that indicate Steve Howe or Steve Hackett or even Mike Oldfield are paragons of tone. Even David Gilmour gets the nod for his pedal-driven enhancements because they don't usually delve into the gross or fuzzy contortions (usually, but I have noted otherwise in a couple examples below).

Well, I won't won't be talking about clean notes in this article; on the contrary, I went looking for the dirtiest, nastiest, filthiest guitar licks from that greatest era of rock that straddled the 60's and the 70's. Some of these riffs have been known to induce convulsions in the timorous and weak. Nuns have become promiscuous and given up their calling, in essence kicking the habit, after hearing some of these songs. Upon hearing just one of these chord progressions, classically trained young musicians have been known to drop the bassoon, stop shaving and bathing, and end up living in dilapidated upper flats playing gnarly notes on scratched and abused Telecasters. One doesn't get that type of reaction with "clean tone".

But what exactly am I referring to when I say "dirtiest, nastiest, filthiest guitar licks?" And in answer to my internal monologue, I would reply, "Actually, my precious, I have an example...."

The example:

Funk #49 - The James Gang (Joe Walsh)
Perhaps the single, sleaziest riff ever concocted. You feel dirty just listening to it. It repeats at about 2:12 and is even sleazier than the intro, if that's possible.

So, using a riff from Joe Walsh, one of rock's unsung guitar heroes, as an exemplar of the sound I am seeking (I would also mention Walsh's filthy use of a talk box halfway through Rocky Mountain Way), let us peruse the 50 plus tunes I have compiled off the top of my head that fit the raison d'être of this musically naughty exposition. I am sure I have missed many lascivious licks, but drop a line and jar my memory. After all, I lost most of my mind in the 70's (the rest is pickled in a jar in the fridge). Oh, and the lead guitarist for each song is listed in parentheses.

THE 1960s

Voodoo Chile - Jimi Hendrix (Hendrix)
This is about as violent as you're going to get as far as 1960s guitar playing. Due to the Hendrix family keep such a tight lid on YouTube videos (which I don't think Hendrix himself would think much of), I can't really share some of the more incendiary tracks by Jimi, but Machine Gun gets quite dark in both content and ominous guitar licks as the song progresses.

Midnight Rambler - The Rolling Stones (Keith Richards)
The shambling, just-rolled-out-of-bed shuffle Keith Richards instigates is magnified on the Get Yer Ya Ya's Out live version with the addition of Mick Taylor on lead (the best guitarist the Stones ever had). The fuzzy, sloppy style is evident in nearly every great Stones tune, and is exemplified in the great guitar trade-offs between Richards and Taylor on Can't You Hear Me Knocking.

SWLABR - Cream (Eric Clapton)
Sure, the heaviest riff that critics will refer to regarding Cream is from Sunshine of Your Love, but the unpronounceably-titled song "SWLABR" (actually an acronym for "She Walks Like a Bearded Rainbow" - yeah, don't do drugs and try to title songs) features the crazily processed guitar of Eric Clapton, run simultaneously through a wah-wah and fuzz-box so it almost sounds like a distorted kazoo.

Misirlou - Dick Dale and the Dell Tones (Dick Dale)
My favorite Lebanese surf tune. Amazing stuff for 1964, even with the later filmic misfortune of John Travolta dancing to the song.

Interstellar Overdrive - Pink Floyd (Syd Barrett)
The only album you're going to get Syd Barrett with a semblance of full faculties, and a memorable trippy riff here. Really, this song one-ups nearly every other band in the psychedelic era, as well as influencing and informing later Floyd songs like Careful With that Axe Eugene and Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun, and additionally other acid rock; for instance, listen to Alice Cooper's early albums Pretties for You (Levity Ball) and particularly Easy Action (Lay Down and Die Goodbye).

The Pusher - Steppenwolf (Michael Monarch)
Prototypical heavy psychedelic guitar and subject matter for 60s outrage, emphasized by John Kay growling out "God damn the Pusher!" Interestingly enough, the song was written by Hoyt Axton, later known for being the dad/crazy inventor of smokeless ash trays in the movie Gremlins.

Highway 61 - Johnny Winter (Winter)
Winter's fiery slide version of this song pretty much erases all memory of the original Bob Dylan version. What were we talking about again?

You Really Got Me - The Kinks (Dave Davies)
There were no fancy guitar pedals back in 1964, no overdrives and distortion boxes. Dave Davies got the ragged, distorted sound he was looking for by slashing the cone of his amp speaker with a razor and picking holes in it with a pin. Kids, don't try this at home. Mom and dad won't buy you another amp.

Helter Skelter - The Beatles (McCartney, Harrison and Lennon)
One more can you say about a song so incendiary that it set Charles Manson off on the path of mass murder? This is as violent as McCartney ever got. Ever. The Beatles (White Album) was the revolt against the niceties of Sgt. Peppers. It is brimming with more organic, less produced, heavier material like the filthy, nasty guitar work on Happiness is a Warm Gun and Yer Blues. That's John Lennon on five string bass, by the way. And counter to the myth, Ringo is actually the one bellowing "I got blisters on my fingers!"

Eight Miles High - The Byrds (Roger McGuinn)
The song is not about drug use, the Byrd's band members maintained strenuously (while rolling their eyes and popping a few more pills). Ravi Shankar's influence is readily discernible in Roger McGuinns glimmering, droning 12 string guitar repeating riff and solo.

The Lemon Song - Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page)
Yes, yes, yes...Whole Lotta Love has the dirty riff that made Zeppelin famous, but "The Lemon Song", also from Led Zeppelin II, has an actually filthier, slinkier progression that really fits the analogous obscenities filling that song ("Squeeze me babe, till the juice runs down my leg -- the way you squeeze my lemon, I'm gonna fall right out of bed"). There's also an extremely heavy riff on Moby Dick that people tend to forget about, considering it as just the basis for a John Bonham drum solo.

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida - Iron Butterfly (Erik Brann)
People are often apt to discuss the Phantom of the Opera organ intro, or the sinister bass line, but it's the acid guitar attack of Erik Brann droning on for 17 or 18 minutes that is the most memorable aspect of this epic bit of psychedelia.

I Ain't Superstitious - Jeff Beck
You forget this is a Howlin' Wolf Song. You forget this is 1968. You even forget that Rod Stewart is singing. When Beck's guitar starts wailing and shrieking and making tortured sounds that a wah-wah pedal was not designed for, you simply don't pay attention to anything else.

Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum (Greenbaum)
Greenbaum translated the success of this distorted single into a goat farm in Petaluma, California. He then retired from music for decades.

Moonlight on Vermont - Captain Beefheart (Bill Harkleroad and Jeff Cotton)
I'm not going to try to explain it. Yes, the vocals are demented, but so are the guitars. Which is the point, I suppose.

Pictures of Matchstick Men - Status Quo
A song guaranteed to drive adults crazy, with its repetitious, chiming single note progression.

THE 1970s

Cosmik Debris - Frank Zappa (Zappa)
There are any number of sleazy Zappa solos. I could point to the solo starting at around 1:13 of Dirty Love for instance, or any number off the fusion-rock album Hot Rats, but perhaps because "Cosmik Debris" is a fairly standard 4/4 blues composition (albeit with extremely warped lyrics and zany asides), the raunchiest blues lead ever starting at 2:03 packs such a gut punch.  In fact, the guitar work throughout the song is warped.

Going Down - The Jeff Beck Group (Beck)
Jeff Beck is on his own planet when discussing how he manages to warp the nature of a guitar into soundscapes that really no one else has managed to emit.

In My Time of Dying - Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page)
The sleazy slide Page offers on this song is amplified on the lead kicking in at 4:57. Physical Graffiti has always been my favorite Led Zep album, filled with gargantuan riffs like on The Rover and The Wanton Song.

One of these Days - Pink Floyd (David Gilmour)
For the uninitiated, the actual full line spoken by Nick Mason on this instrumental is "One of these days I'm going to cut you into little pieces," which is quite apt for the sinister quality of this piece. When the mayhem kicks in after a long Roger Waters bass intro, you get one of the craziest uses of a pedal steel guitar ever rendered, compliments of David Gilmour. The sounds Gilmour makes would give nightmares to any country-western practitioner of the pedal steel. For flagrant violation of  the ethical use of a talk box, listen to Pigs (Three Different Ones), in which Gilmour offers porcine torture on an epic scale.

Country Mile - Rory Gallagher (Gallagher)
There's always something about Rory and the slide guitar. The driving beat of this song is infectious.

Into the Void - Black Sabbath (Tony Iommi)
I remember being a teenager sitting around listening to the Master of Reality album. Naturally, we were all stoned out of our gourds, and I recall one of the wide-eyed (or perhaps dilated) girls in the group being aghast and saying, "This is the sound of sin." And I think that is the best description of one of the most evil chord progressions on record. There are so many monster Iommi riffs it would require a separate article unto itself, but listen in to The Thrill of It All at 1:02 or the start of Supernaut for a few slices of Devil's Food.

Birds of Fire - Mahavishu Orchestra (John McLaughlin)
And now, a moment of sophistication in our distortive deconstructions. Mahavishnu's album Birds of Fire is not necessarily categorized as fusion jazz; ergo, as many sites note its prog rock leanings,  we can add this incendiary bit of fusion rock into the mix. Get past the brief intro including Jan Hammer on keys, Billy Cobham on drums and Jerry Goodman on violin, John McLaughlin kicks in with some sick leads. This ain't your dad's jazz.

Cities on Flame with Rock and Roll - Blue Oyster Cult (Buck Dharma)
One of the great riffs in all rock and roll. Forget the rest of the song. The first 20 seconds is all you need to raise your blood pressure.

Speed King - Deep Purple (Ritchie Blackmore)
Hey, the 50 second intro is all you need to get the gist of Deep Purple's Blackmore at this point in the early '70s. Loved the sound of his guitar during that period.

Brighton Rock - Queen (Brian May)
A crazy clinic held by Brian May in which he coaxes the most demented sounds from his Red Special guitar (designed by May and his father in the 60s after seeing Jeff Beck doing obscene things with his guitar). This is one of the spaziest compositions Queen ever played, this side of Ogre Battle.

Pibroch (Cap in Hand) - Jethro Tull (Martin Barre)
So, your first listen to the album Songs from the Wood lulls you into a pastoral mood populated by forest scenes, country lanes and heather on the highlands, when all of a sudden Martin Barre slaps you upside the head with the monstrous intro "Pibroch". Where the hell did that come from? Anyway, there's even more weirdness with a backward tracked Barre lead (starting at about 2:20) on Play in Time from Benefit.

Cracked Actor - David Bowie (Mick Ronson)
I don't think Mick Ronson ever got his due as cutting-edge guitarist, and I think "cutting-edge" is the proper description for Ronson's style: cutting, sharp as a razor. Whether he was jamming with David Bowie or later with Ian Hunter, you always knew Ronson was on the recording. Listen to the outro of Panic in Detroit (about 3:37 onward) for a downright vicious lead.

Starless - King Crimson (Robert Fripp)
The song is 12:30 in length, and there is an extended soft intro. But don't let that fool you. At about 4:30 there is a bass-driven build-up where Robert Fripp's guitar becomes more and more intense with each passing moment and eventually sounds more like an electric drill biting through metal. Following a crazed sax solo by the great Mel Collins, It descends into utter chaos again. Post-metal's progenitor.

Hey Hey, My My (Out of the Black) - Neil Young and Crazy (Young)
The sound of impure, alduterated distortion. There is no tone, no grace, no airs of perfection, just high decibel feedback. Glorious!

Hocus Pocus - Focus (Jan Akkerman)
The sound an 8 ball of coke makes during inhalation. Or so I've heard. A few times.

Movin' Out - Aerosmith (Joe Perry)
I liked Aerosmith's first two albums. I really did. Then their next two albums were okay. I haven't listened to any of their albums since. I don't feel I'm missing anything. But Liv Tyler was hot. Which has nothing to do with the first few licks of "Movin' Out". Which brings us around to their first album again. I saw them in the civic hockey rink of my hometown in 1974 (which is hilarious if you knew the town). The album Get Your Wings had just come out. I think I paid $5.00 to see them. That cost me a month's worth of cigarettes back then. Damn that Aerosmith!

Bridge of Sighs - Robin Trower (Trower)
A masters course on the use of sustain, chorus, wah-wah and distortion. From what I've read, Trower's effects chain in the 1970s included a custom preamp and clean booster pedals, a Dan Armstrong Red Ranger treble booster, a Tychobrahe wah-wah, an octave/fuzz Fender Blender, a Uni-Vibe chorus/vibrato, Mutron II phase shifter, and two Electro-Harmonix Electric Mistresses fed through a pair of 100-watt Marshall JMP-100 Mark II heads. So you have some shopping to do to sound like that.

L.A. Blues - The Stooges (Ron Asheton)

Well, I am not necessarily sure you can actually categorize this as a song. Perhaps retitle it "Sax and Violence", because all you get are waves of aggression in the form of tortured feedback and distortion. There are two advantages to this sort of composition: 1) you don't need to tune your guitar, and 2) you needn't memorize lyrics.

Eruption - Van Halen (Eddie Van Halen)
I never really cared for Van Halen, but Eddie's hammer-on, two-handed tapping technique was unique for the time and instigated a herd of 80s big-haired geetar wannabes. It's still a damn good solo. For an acoustic version of this lead, you can always refer to Spanish Fly from VH's second album.