Motley Crue - Shout At The Devil
by Chuck G.

Flashback to 1983.

Shout At The Devil was the pre-imminent burn-out metal album of the 80s. Nothing else comes close.

Van Halen's 1984 was embraced by the jock/frat-boy crowd while Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet appealed to the big-hair chicks and mop-topped musician wannabees. But it was Shout At The Devil that cut across all those supposed class lines and instilled fear and loathing in mom and dad...much to the joy of their children (of the beast).

And God bless them.

This album, with it's thinly-veiled satanic overtones and remarkably well-concocted shock, has been the archetype for everything Marilyn Manson has done from day one: Horrify the parents and titillate the pre-pubescent.

In the musical landscape of the day, there was nothing like this explosion of leather and greasepaint, torn-clothing and shredding guitar. Kiss had completely unmasked by this point. The only shock value they held was seeing Gene Simmons in tiger-skin spandex. And the Godfather of the macabre, Alice Cooper, released a throwaway called Dada and was 3 years away from uniting with guitarist/Rambo lookalike, Kane Roberts, and recapturing any prior glory 

They say timing is everything and for Motley Crue, the stage was set to throw a bandanna-decorated microphone stand into the gears of  the modern American music scene.

Now, I'm not saying that the Crue revolutionized modern culture as we know it. They didn't change world opinion like the Bob Geldof's and Bruce Springsteen's of the day. But they did popularize a sort of fringe musical taste in modern heavy metal that affected playlists of radio stations across the country and paved the way for poodle-haired pretty boys to dominate the MTV.

Shout At The Devil opens up with a bit of Genesis. No, not the prog-rock trio that gave us visions of Phil Collins balding head 24-7, but the spoken word intro that set the tone for the ensuing 10 songs. This  was the concept that KISS built with Destroyer and this should've  been THEIR opening psalm. But here in Crue-ville, Allister Fiend, the 8-ball and razor-blade wielding, takes the reigns as minister preaching to the meek. This is probably the least-listened to track on all of the album, but it is quite possibly the most important. Without this verbal assault on the fired-and-brimstoned, "Shout" would just be a collection of 3-minute outtakes without tone or sentiment. "In The Beginning" summons up the demons from down deep and releases their spirit into the slums and ghettos of the album's balance.

The genius of Nikki Sixx's writing is most-notably summed up in this 1 minute, 14-second splice. Forever regarded as a master of turning a phrase, "...Beginning" contains the best of the best. He tells a simple story of good overpowering evil in the span of 93 words. If you haven't listened in some time, might be time to take a refresher course in SixxSongwriting 101: An Appreciation.

After the climactic ending of "...Beginning," razor sharp guitar and throbbing bass and drum come bolting from speaker system. Then the army anthem rallying cry (that Crue used to perfection on this album, by the way) gives way to teenage optimism. Mick Mars simple but oh-so effective lead guitar squeals forth and "Shout At The Devil" is underway. Parents were wary of the subtle pentagram on the albums cover and the mere fact that the word 'devil' was being bandied about by their mall-walking 15-year olds. But "Shout At The Devil" had a verifiable positive message. Sixx has gone on record as saying that "The Devil" stands for anybody or anything in each of our lives that causes us pain and anguish, be it our boss, a disease or maybe even a parent or two. And shouting at it means to stand up to it. Question authority. Defeat your enemy. Positive life lessons by way of Anton LaVey? Why the hell not?

I remember when MTV showed videos. I know this is cliché to say. But MTV used to be a lot like radio stations in the 70s, where "format" wasn't as important. On MTV, you could sit for a half an hour and see Springsteen's 13-minute "Rosalita"  and then Motley's "Looks That Kill." Think about how odd that would look nowadays. Even in the later 80s, they had specialized shows for each emerging music trend (Headbanger's Ball, Yo! MTV Raps"). However, in 1983-84, MTV was a music-lover's paradise.

But it was "Looks That Kill" that gave teenage America their first look at the visual Crue. "Livewire" was a video off their first LP, Too Fast For Love but even the content-hungry MTV didn't feel the need to air that masterpiece much, if at all. "Looks That Kill" drove home the Crue and their 83-84 persona: Leather, cod-pieces, fishnet, mascara, studded leather gauntlets and hairspray for days. These weren't fun-loving party boys ala Quiet Riot. This was a metal machine bent on destruction, debauchery and detox. You can't help but hear "Looks..." without thinking of that cheeseball video complete with flying upside-down stars, catty, catty women and that one chick with her hand frozen in...what?...cement? Ice? I don't even think they knew. But the song with it's instantly headbang-able guitar riff put Motley on the map. Sales of "Shout..." increased measurably and they got invited to open the US Festival that same year...and then things got out of hand.

Those two Crue heavyweights give way to the rollicking "Bastard," the chilly "God Bless The Children of the Beast" and a surprising, but well-placed, cover of the Beatles, "Helter Skelter." After all, wasn't it Manson who hijacked that phrase from the Lennon and McCartney and used it for his own, well-publicized murderous end? Including this song on the album was tantamount to showing Sharon Tate's bloodied and lifeless body on the album cover. It was Nikki's ideal product placement...and that product was the dread and fear that enveloped Americans from all over in the summer of '69. Besides that...it was a damn fine rendition. 
VERY metal.

Flip the cassette tape over in your Sanyo boom box and you are greeted with Crue's heaviest song to date, "Red Hot." Tommy Lee's double bass technique was rhythmic perfection and the guitar pick sliding against the strings created electric tension. As prophetic as Kid Rock proclaiming "...I'm goin' platinum," the Cruesome foursome pointed out that they were in fact a hot property in the mid-80s and their star was on the rise.

Juxtaposed against the fast-pace of side-two opener, "Too Young To Fall In Love" was a jail bait anthem, slow and churning with Mick Mars' riff n' roll. A perennial concert stand-out, "Too Young..." is minor chord heaven creating a dichotomy against Neil's caterwauling cat-calling and the rock hall backing vocals. Maybe Mick's finest solo piece.

Letting up wasn't an option for an album of such intensity and the following two songs, "Knock Em Dead, Kid" and "Ten Seconds To Love" capitalized again on Nikki's proficient lyric writing, Neil's Metal God delivery, Mars' slice-and-dice shred work and Lee's interesting and subtly complex syncopation. These two were concert staples two or three albums in the future, with "Knock Em..." taking a slight hiatus after Vince Neil crashed his car during a beer run, thereby killing Hanoi Rock's drummer, Razzle.

"Too Fast For Love" had "On With The Show" and "Shout..." has "Danger." Balladry the only way The Crue knew how to (before "Home Sweet Home). Sixx pens a sort of Outsiders brought through Marshall stacks and Kramer guitars. The youth-gone-wild imagery of close-knit "buds" walking the fine line between life and death was probably for effect, but in hindsight who's reality wasn't far below the surface.

Shout At The Devil wasn't an album that changed rock music ala a Nevermind or Sgt. Peppers. It is however a time capsule of sorts for an era when men grew there hair long and women loved them for it. Drinking, drugging and sexing were completely acceptable in a pre-HIV world and shocking your parents with a dark, dark album was part of the charm of liking or not liking a musical group.

God Bless Shout At The Devil.

See you all at the Crue Reunion/Farewell '05.
 

Motley Crue - Shout At The Devil
Label: Elektra (original) / Hip-O Records (remaster)
 

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