Eugeology: Eugene's List of Hard Rock Albums and Possible Gems Part 24 - Motley Crue 'Too Fast For Love'

I was never a huge fan of Motley Crue. But ‘Too Fast For Love’ is by far their best album in my humble opinion.

The Crue got too wrapped up in following trends for my tastes. They went from nasty hard rock maggots living off depravity (‘Too Fast For Love’) to made-up tarts that lived off depravity (‘Theatre of Pain’) within 3 albums. They got too big for their “raisin’” with me. Once ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ was released, I had long since checked out.

But even though I didn’t care for many of their albums after ‘Too Fast For Love’, I still went to see them live. Motley Crue were a great band to see live. They put on a helluva show. I’ve managed to see them on tours for Shout, Theatre, Girls, and the final tour. And when it comes to power drummers, I would consider Tommy Lee one of the greatest that has ever lived. And he would push himself to extremes when it came to live performances when it was time for his drum solos.

I have never went to the bathroom or scooted off for a beer during one of Lee’s drum solos. I knew that I was going to see and hear something special each time.

‘Too Fast For Love’ came out ahead of the L.A. bands onslaught in the early 80’s. There was leather, punk attitudes, overt sexuality, and satanic imagery that fueled my desire to check them out. I thought it was all rather tongue-in-cheek, but the satanic imagery was the only thing played up by Motley Crue.

First of all, ‘Too Fast…’ is a great power pop album fueled by Nikki Sixx’s love of the rock band Sweet. So don’t be fooled by all the leather, spikey studs, and handcuffs. ‘Too Fast…’ is an album filled with sing-along songs and pretty little pop songs played REAL LOUD with B.C. Rich guitars and Marshall amplifiers.

The album opens up with concert staple ‘Live Wire’ that has shades of punk buried behind the riffs. And it has cow bell!

But then the album opens up a bit and allows Sixx to pay homage to Sweet with his hunger to move away from Frank Feranna, Jr. (Nikki Sixx’s real name) and the psychological baggage that goes along with him. I believe that’s why “Frankie” died a few different ways in the song “On with the Show”. Sixx was putting Frankie to rest and letting Nikki live out the rest of his life.

The album cover is definitely a tribute to ‘Sticky Fingers’ by The Rolling Stones, but don’t let it fool you. The album is all Motley Crue. The only cheese on this release is the poppy goodness disguised as hard rockin’ tunes.

For me, this is a fine as Motley Crue got musically. They got bigger and were allocated bigger budgets on the albums that followed. But it didn’t sound like Motley Crue to me. When I first heard their cover of Brownsville Station’s “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”, I nearly had a dry-heave. And even though I covered “Home Sweet Home” in a band, I hated that song. HATED IT.

‘Too Fast…’ is the ONLY Motley Crue album that you need. It has everything they ever were or were going to be. It’s the ugly and crusty scab that covers the debauchery inside.

I suggest that you pick that scab and put ‘Too Fast For Love’ into your collection. Play it loud often. Sing along with the songs. Get lost in the TRUE Motley Crue that we only saw for one beautiful album.

Aerosmith 'Live Bootleg'

Do you watch any kind of morning television?

I really don’t, but when I’m at work we have a TV on all the time. We have three of them running all constantly in the Newsroom.

I’ve always wanted a wall of televisions in my home, but it seems expensive, distracting, and downright dumb to me now. But if I were a sports person or really into adult video, I can see the advantages of having multiple screens mounted to the wall.

But I digress…

I guess it’s part of the Today show... Kathie Lee and Hoda are on NBC. It seems to be at 30 Rockefeller with tourists peering into windows and standing on the streets holding signs desperate for attention. And there’s one segment of the folks gathered there that I don’t understand.

The woman that want to be “ambushed” and “made over”.

First of all, it’s not an ambush if you know the day or time women will be “made over”.

These women of not-so-attractive America descend onto the Big Apple in hopes that they’ll be made up and become “desirable”. I suppose that’s the deal. I really haven’t seen any of the men in their lives pop a woody right there on live TV yet. But I think that’s the deal.

They stand around with cute and festive signs that say anything except “I’m hideous. Please help me” or “I can no longer fire up my husband’s erection” or “Take my wife, please!”.

The first thing they do in the makeover, and here’s a hint for you ladies desiring such a thing, is cut the hair. I’ve seen no difference when it comes to length. They’re going to take at least 2 inches off. So if you’re sporting a “Dutch Boy” you may come out looking like GI Jane.

It’s the predictable thing they do. Well, besides slapping makeup on them as if they’re painting up a racecar to sear the retinas. Rouge and false eye lashes are the most noticeable tools of this makeover trade.

The other thing they do is give them a new outfit with a pair of shoes. Which, I suppose, is the nice thing to do when completing the unsightly to somewhat attractive metamorphosis.

So they “pretty up” these women and present them to the friends and family that are blindfolded for the viewing audience at home. The ugly duckling is tossed out onto the stage, the family pulls off the blindfold, and then it’s time for gasps and tears of joy. I’m still holding out for a husband that’s gotten used to his homely wife pitching a tent on live television, but it’s mainly a look that says… “Great. I must look excited. The bitch needs validation.”

The kids are often excited, but then again most kids lose their bowel stuffing when clowns appear.

The lady friends that go with them act about the same way. Knees buckle, hands go to the wide-open mouth, and their eyes make water.

THEN, as if that wasn’t entertaining enough, the newly “whored-up” woman is told to look in the mirror for the first viewing of her transformed self. And the response is always the same. There’s a look of happiness, joy, and disbelief. I like the ones so overcame with something that they start fanning themselves. I don’t even have the volume up on the television and that manages to crack me up every time.

So why do these women subject themselves to this type of thing?

I just don’t get it. I suppose it’s the “Cinderella” type of thing. Just once I’d like to see a woman start rubbing up against Al Roker while some Motley Crue song is cranked up.