ATLANTIC CITY, N.J. — President Biden made an attempt to win over Gen Z voters by appearing on stage at a Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons concert wearing a brand new leather jacket and blue jeans, confirmed multiple retirement-aged sources.
“I’ve been a politician a long time, Jack, and I know you can’t make the young people come to you, you have to go where they are. I called up my old pal Frankie, we’ve known each other since the ‘50s when we drag-raced down by the old shipyard in our hotrods to win the heart of sweet Mary Anne. We were enemies then, but we became close friends over the years because all of our other friends died,” said President Biden. “He still pulls in a young crowd, I’m talking about people born after the Korean War here. They are the next generation, and I want to show them how slick I look in these dungarees. I might even join Frankie for a song or two.”
Concert attendee Katherine Wilson admitted she was flattered by the president constantly praising the crowd for their youthful looks.
“I just turned 68 last week and I’ve been feeling a little down about my age. I just became a great-grandmother for the third time, and my children are trying to sell my house so I can move into an elderly care facility permanently. So when President Biden said ‘You all look so great tonight’ it meant a lot to me, because I don’t recognize the person I see in the mirror anymore,” said Wilson. “I raised my kids the best way I knew how, and this is how they repay me? I swear they turned on me when their father died. They still blame me for that, you know. I guess I’m just the worst mother that ever existed and I’m sorry.”
Political analysts believe this was a gross miscalculation by President Biden.
“You can’t really blame the president. To him, everyone seems young. He’s so old he predates the Boomers. His generation doesn’t even have an interesting name, because there aren’t enough of them left to even justify thinking of one,” said left-leaning pundit Maurio Tiento. “If he wants to truly connect with Gen Z, someone is going to have to explain to them how old they actually are, and then convince him they are actually worth talking to. Because most people his age only communicate with Gen Zers through birthday cards they send in the mail with a $5 bill in there.”
President Biden announced his next campaign stop will be at a “Murder She Wrote” fan convention in Atlanta.
The only album to feature Brian Robertson of Thin Lizzy and terrible fashion fame, “Another Perfect Day” couldn’t have been a more misleading title. Plagued by recording issues, lineup incompatibility and a shift towards a more accessible sound. This led to the inevitable sacking of Brian Roberston and the Recruitment of longtime axeman Phil Campbell (he served for 32 YEARS IN Motörhead). So while not perfect, maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all?
Motörhead’s debut album is by no means a bad album, but compared to everything that came afterward, this LP feels like Motörhead finding their (admittedly already pretty rad) sound, and it’s the only album to feature Larry Wallis on guitar and Lucas Fox on drums. It’s said that if you don’t succeed, try and try again, and when the first attempt is this good, you better believe what comes after is something to get stoked about.
The title of this album presumably refers to the future sacking of guitarist Wurzel (RIP), since this was his last album with the band. This album is (by Motörhead standards) pretty run-of-the-mill, with very little variation to the tone, songwriting and overall sound. The band may have been losing steam at this point, but through “Sacrifice,” Motörhead had brighter horizons to look forward to.
Recorded after Lemmy’s admittedly hedonistic lifestyle started to catch up with him around 2012, this album is the first in their career to feel like it is slightly lacking in energy. But with a title like “Aftershock,” a band that once seemed like they would live forever were starting to see cracks in this mortal coil, with the lyrics starting to reflect this change, looking towards potential change, for better or worse, a decision the band decided not to go with, instead staying the course for the rest of their existence, shining bright in the night sky like those stars on Christmas (Lemmy’s Birthday).
Drawing more from classic rock than many Motörhead albums, “March or Die” finds a way to fit between both of these extremes, and we’re not sure how we would describe such a stroll. It also features presumably Lemmy’s second tribute to a punk band in the form of “Bad Religion” which, while decent, definitely ain’t not R.A.M.O.N.E.S. But as a midlife crisis record, this is definitely better than “St. Anger,” even predating that album too, proving how even at their most average, Motörhead were still capable of turning heads and creating revolutionary concepts.
“Kiss of Death” is a Motörhead record through and through, and it contains the songwriting of their ‘70s and ‘80s work mixed with the more modern, frankly better production on later records, leaving a midrange Motörhead record that could have been recorded in any era of the band and probably turned out the same. But “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” could easily be the motto of this band, and this album is absolutely listenable, even if it doesn’t break new ground.
If we’re being completely honest, we could have scrambled all of these next listings up to number twelve and this article would still make sense without changing a word. But that’s not how these listings work, so here we go. This late ‘90s work stands on par with their ‘80s classics, and contains one of Motörhead’s most underrated ballads in the form of “Dead and Gone,” which upon first listen, wouldn’t sound out of place on a Simon and Garfunkel record, proving that Motörhead ain’t a one-trick pony after all.
Named for the plural form of what Lemmy originally wanted to call the band upon formation, this album pulls from everything Motörhead past, present and future, just like a tweaked-out Scrooge McDuck. It was also the first album to feature Motörhead’s technically best (the best kind of best) drummer Mikkey Dee. The production on this album is strangely abhorrent though, for reasons we don’t completely understand, maybe the producer, his crew, or the record label were the titular “Bastards” that the album title is referring to.
Just as Lemmy had prophesied way back during “The Decline of Western Civilization Part 2, The Metal Years,” the band would be inspired enough by something to rip it off in their music. And while this wasn’t in the form of a musical ripoff, the title derives from the video game “Scarface: The World Is Yours.” Well we hope so anyway since we know Lemmy was a gamer, and this late-career gem was released a couple of years after the aforementioned video game. But it’s far more memorable than that cheap Scarface cash grab of a game, so who’s ripping off who doesn’t matter.
More Motorizing than moisturizing, “Motorizer” is an instructional manual on how to perform Rock’n’Roll (courtesy of the track “Rock Out”) and the blues too (there’s literally a song entitled “Teach You How To Sing the Blues”). It’s a great two-for-one deal, and that’s some great lessons from some Rock’n’Roll veterans deep into their third decade, with Lemmy recording this record at 63, and this album still sounds young and vibrant regardless of age. But you know, “If You think you’re too old to Rock’n’Roll, you are” which is a saying to live by, musically or otherwise.
Infernally furious, especially with a band who was approaching their 30th year as a band, coming in Hot as the Hounds of Hell, so fiery that the band had to do a blues number to cool off with the final track “Whorehouse Blues.” If any other band would have released this album, it would have been considered their masterpiece, but it’s just another Motörhead album, and Motörhead has the benefit of being fronted by “God” himself, and you can’t have god without the devil, so burn on “Inferno.”
Lemmy and the boys favorite state to achieve in their off time, this record is a perfect fusion of every era of Motörhead, brought directly to your homes courtesy of theme song for WWE Superstar Triple H, the aptly titled “The Game.” But wait, there’s more, so much more to the greatness of this album, with the frankly underrated “Walk a Crooked Mile” being the best Motörhead album opener of the 2000s.
Named after some obscure style of music that Motörhead helped perfect, this was the last album the band would release in the metal-tinted ‘80s, and it is every bit as invigorating as prior albums. When contacting the estate of Lemmy Kilmister researching this article, they refused to share the recipe for a “Bacon Torpedo,” which if we’re being honest, sounds kind of delicious, but some things are better left to mystery.
Conventional wisdom would dictate that you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, but this only applies to canines, and everyone in Motörhead has been human mixed with demons (as far as we know). While the band may not have been breaking any new ground on this album, they still find plenty of nuance in old territory, fine-tuning the Motörhead formula like bored chemists discovering a brand new, exciting variation on an old recipe, which still excites to this day.
Released after “Overkill” and “Bomber” became an overnight sensation but recorded before. United Artists (funny name for a greedy record company) had heard that this little pub band they recorded made it to the big time and decided to release this previously shelved recording, and Lemmy originally saw it as a greedy cash-in by an already wealthy company. But this is the first record to be recorded with that classic lineup of Kilmister, Clarke, and Taylor, and oh boy is it ever a step up from their first album, refining everything that made the band already great and propelling them to future glory.
Due to their aging fanbase starting to suffer from dementia (substance-fueled or otherwise), Motörhead kicked off the turn of the Millennium in the most Motörhead way imaginable by releasing both a kickass album and improving the original “God Save the Queen” by taking it out of the hands of the Sex Pistols and making it awesome. Doing what the band was born to do, this album kicks your ass.
While the production leaves much to be desired, there are still many great songs to be found within, including the title track which was both a critique of organized religion and a humble brag on the band’s collective sexual prowess. It’s also the band’s first release as a four-piece, the first with Phill Campbell and “Wizzo” bringing that ‘80s twin guitar proficiency and increasing the band members’ ability to be an “Orgasmatron” by increasing the surface area to band member ratio, whatever and “Orgamsatron” is (tell us if you know, it sounds awesome).
Motörhead entered the ‘90s with one of their strongest records, and even though it was their last release to feature “Philthy Animal” Taylor on drums (RIP to the father of the modern blast beat), his opening drum beat to “One To Sing The Blues” stands right alongside the intro to “Overkill” as a beat that is both brutal and makes you want to move. This album cemented Lemmy’s songwriting prowess with the title track showcasing Lem’s softer side while lamenting the loss of life in World War One scarring a generation, showing the man’s ability to write a ballad just before he wrote another heart-wrenching track in “Mama I’m Coming Home” for Ozzy.
The last album to feature “Fast” Eddie Clark on guitar, this record was plagued with problems from the beginning, with the loss of a producer leading the boys to take even more cues from the nascent hardcore movement and attempt to produce the album themselves, to mixed results production-wise, but this led to the grand finale of the best lineups to ever grace rock’n’roll, even it felt a Harley Davidson running on fumes, it was the end to “Another Perfect Day” in Rock’n’Roll.
Motörhead’s swan song ironically begins with the ultimate anthem for life in the form of “Victory or Die,” and the rest of the album sees Lemmy making a deal with the Devil by offering him all of his then-limited lifeforce in exchange for one last, great Motörhead album. This even gave Lemmy some “Sympathy for the Devil” and that Rolling Stones cover feels like a man who has lived his life to the fullest given’er for one last great record, while honoring the Gods of Rock’n’roll who Rock’n’Rolled before him. Sniff, sniff, no I’m not snorting drugs, I’m crying over this masterpiece. Baaaaaa.
Containing Motörhead’s most popular song in “Ace of Spades” and anthem for professional musicians in “We Are the Road Crew,” this record was Motörhead’s highest charting record of their career, and the band was comfortably settled into their loud, fast and abrasive sound at this point in their career. Motörhead had reached a point in their career where the only people they had to bicker with were themselves, which planted the seeds of destruction in their classic lineup.
Playing like a well-maintained B-52 delivering its payload, “Bomber” saw both the classic iteration of its configuration and frontman Lemmy stepping into their unique and groundbreaking approach to loud, fast music. With lyrics drawing both from frontman Lemmy’s real-life experiences (Dead Men Tell No Tales) and fascination with history (the title track), Motörhead were pushing boundaries, and that’s not even mentioning Lemmy’s revolutionary approach to bass (Big Guitar goo BRRR).
For those unfortunate enough to have never seen Motörhead live, the band fortunately recorded this flawless performance at the height of the band’s popularity, relative youth and straight-up raw power. Deafening, bombastic and fantastic, this is a must-listen for anyone who is a fan of Rock’n’Roll or musicologists looking for a time period of pure, raw, unadulterated perfection.
Beginning with one of the most iconic and revolutionary drum beats/imitation of a heart full of speed on the title track, courtesy of Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor, “Overkill” is Motörhead in full force. Merging Heavy Metal, Good time Rock’n’Roll, and even some Psychedelic Influences on “Metropolis”. Everyone and their relatives love this album, from the Punks, Metalheads, and straight-up rock fans singing the praises ever so highly, there’s even some feminist messaging in “I’ll Be Your Sister” (for the late ‘70s anyways). This Groundbreaking release paved the way for punk and metal to get beyond their petty squabbles and embrace a brotherly love that has only grown every year since. And God Bless ‘Em. Every one of ‘em.
Turns out when it comes to writing book reports, a robot raised by Die Antwoord is about as useful as my friend whose way into Die Antwoord; not at all.
There was something concerningly familiar about GERTY’s voice. Sure enough, as soon as GERTY found out I was a teenage boy he got real creepy. Kept complimenting my muscles and telling me I should let him take Polaroids of them? I don’t know, I got the hell out of there.
As soon as he got to the part about Phineas’s pink shirt he got fed up and went on a murder spree.
She just danced. In 1927 that was the big concern with AI I guess. “What if they do all of our dancing?!” Simpler times.
Basically a bunch of cute radiators. They don’t talk so they weren’t much help. In fact, it’s unclear whether they are actually sentient or if I’ve simply anthropomorphized them in my desperate isolation while reading this god-awful book.
He read the book, and Johnny Five no longer wants to be alive. Are you happy now John Knowles?
The kid just kept crying for his mommy. I know it’s a shitty book but Jesus kid, grow up a little!
The Tabernacle did write me a book report and this thing makes no sense. Phineas is a mutant? Gene needs to meditate on the 2nd level? The boarding school is Oz? Can a computer be on drugs? This computer has to be on drugs.
You know the robot you designed for a movie is cool when he gets cast in other movies. Robby was indeed up to the task of writing a competent book report, but he’s just too damned slow. I don’t know how his inner workings operate but he needs to do like 100 typewriter clicks between every word. It’s been 3 days and he’s still on the introduction, so he’s not gonna bang this thing out in time.
Apparently, the fourth unwritten law of robotics is “Do not waste my time with WWII-era coming-of-age melodramatic horse shit.”
M3gan suggested we blow off school altogether and just have a dance-off. I’m sensing a theme here with the female presenting robots on this list. It was slightly more productive than her first idea, murder.
Reading “A Separate Peace” triggered some dormant memories in Robo from his former life as Murphy. He went rogue, hunted down and murdered the English teacher who made him read it as a kid.
Another female robot and once again, she just danced. Why is it that when a male writer imbues a robotic female character with the gift of sentience, they just make them dance? Can I just write a report on that? THAT’S interesting!
Turns out it’s a sore subject. This book is what caused the machines to turn on humanity in the first place.
Sid’s mind is an algorithmic combination of over 200 violent criminals and psychopaths, all of whom begged to be shut down halfway through this book.
Despite having such a terrifying last name, Sergeant Perry Slaughter is an extremely well-adjusted individual. He spends his days yelling at incredibly specifically themed G.I. Joe commandos, and then his nights grilling with the family. Slaughter has, of course, seen horrific things, but his sociopathy makes them completely trivial. Slaughter lives a life of luxury and restful nights that the rest of the Joes can only watch enviously.
Slip Stream was born in Utah, so he is almost certainly a Mormon, instantly giving him a leg up in mental well-being to the other Joes. Additionally, he only flies planes and works on computers. Sure, he sees horrific shit, but he sees it through the lens of a computer, which instantly defuses it and makes it not real. Slip Stream never had to grab his buddy’s face only to feel it turn into a pile of red mush. But he did see a live stream of that once, but it was in like 2019.
Grunt did exactly what you think he did. He carried heavy shit for the NCO Joes and cleaned up after them when they had eaten. Grunt also spent most of his time masturbating in a hot porta-potty. While he has some minor PTSD of the time a spider landed on him in the Jon, he mostly turned out alright, ending up getting an engineering degree from Georgia Tech and walking onto the pickleball team there.
Psych Out is a former psychologist and social worker who decided he needed to stop helping people and start terrifying them with psychological warfare. Sure, he might have a twinge of PTSD from arranging the mangled corpses of Cobra soldiers in lewd positions, but the satisfaction he got from the screams of terror helped out. Nowadays he is able to use his psychiatric training to block out the nightmares. Also he runs a very mediocre couples therapy workshop.
Muskrat is the GI Joe swamp expert, from the Bayou. Muskrat would have far more severe PTSD, but there really weren’t that many missions involving a swamp, so he stayed home most of the time perfecting gumbo. He did once make a jambalaya with non-deveined shrimps, and that fucks him up to this day.
Hawk is commanding officer of the GI Joes. He spent his early career suppressing Vietcong, but fortunately his extreme racism helped to insulate him mentally from most of the damage. He was on a path to complete PTSD until he pitched the GI Joe program to the government. Now he can relax in his air conditioned office as special ops soldiers with pun names save the world.
Yeehaw! Wild Bill flies the helicopter for the Joes, as well as a country singer. Through his hobby he is able to compartmentalize all of the horrific things he saw from a bird’s eye view. He loves dropping napalm on unsuspecting insurgents to the smooth strummings of Willie Nelson. Of course, if you attend a Wild Bill concert you’ll hear him singing about the trauma he experienced, but it seems to be blocked behind lyrics about trucks and beer.
SpaceShot, which isn’t really even a pun, is a fighter pilot and, you guessed it, astronaut. He’s defended multiple space stations from Cobra attacks, and seeing men silently turn into red bubbles and dissipate into space does stick with you. SpaceShot also had a profound case of the Overview Effect, and has realized how pointless and insignificant Earth and humanity is in the face of the unrelenting maw of space. So he’s got to deal with that.
Grand Slam is an artillery officer with the Joes, known for his ability to estimate distances without any issue. He also is known to house an entire Denny’s Grand Slam in under four minutes. That’s two pancakes, two eggs, two bacon strips, and two sausages. That’s a lot of damn food, and Grand Slam was famous for crushing it. Now he’ll wake up in a cold sweat, thinking he has to eat more pancakes. It’s a nightmare.
Cobra Commander, born William F. Buckley, is the leader of Cobra and the mortal enemy of the Joes. While Cobra Commander is a psychopathic megalomaniac, for the purposes of plot he gets foiled basically every week. While you might expect his PTSD to manifest from killing millions with giant lasers, or some similar bullshit, it mostly comes from his plans being foiled. Cobra Commander cannot find a moment of rest without imagining Roadblock swinging in on a rope and punching his henchmen in the hog.
Falcon, as his name implies, is a special ops soldier who, for some reason, does not actually have a falcon. How badass would a Joe be if they just had a falcon that would fly over and peck some Cobra’s eyes out, and then come back to be fed a worm. Holy shit that would be so cool. Falcon is just some birdless asshole though. Also he once saw his men set a VC village on fire and shoot the fleeing inhabitants, so that haunts him. But it’s mostly not having a bird that gets him.
Hard Drive, another Joe computer expert and online video game satirist, has a unique form of PTSD from people not understanding satire. He’ll constantly wake up in the middle of the night thinking of comments from people insulting him for his headlines, not realizing that they’re just a made up joke, just a goof. But the people don’t get it. They just assume Hard Drive is being serious. They’re so stupid.
It’s so cold. That’s all Frostbite can remember. Even in his warmest moments, with a weighted Snuggy wrapped around him, he still remembers the cold. The purple extremities, the delirious overheating, the frozen bodies. His name is Frostbite. That’s like naming someone who got in a serious car accident ‘Pileup’. The man is missing three toes and half a hand, he can’t even look at his name tag without remembering his lost digits.
Dial Tone had a perfectly charmed life with the Joes in the ’80s and ’90s. He was always making crank phone calls to Cobra, or hacking into their system using a payphone. He was in his element. Then the internet came along. Suddenly Dial Tone wasn’t so popular anymore. These days kids don’t even know what a Dial Tone is! He tried to change his name to 5G, but it didn’t stick. Poor Dial Tone will never again be relevant. Then there’s the time he was tortured by the Taliban for months, that probably didn’t help.
Deep Six is a deep sea diver, and thus he has seen things that no other man has. In the depths of the sea lurks horrors unknown, bizarre, unthinkable things of snot and cartilage. Deep Six has seen all. He has descended to the blackness and, even though his body came up, his mind never did. He is haunted with images of cultists, tentacles, and New England towns. Deep Six better work on his non-Euclidean geometry. Because they are coming.
