The power of ROCK!

BB recently dug out a long-forgotten compilation tape, containing many hits of the eighties carefully recorded off the radio and spliced with snippets of Bruno Brookes - a man still irritating even in two second snatches. Part-way through the side 2, we found “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake. Almost instantly, we turned into our father, banging the steering wheel and moaning, “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore!” Thankfully, the car was otherwise empty at the time, otherwise the occupants might have been crouching in the footwells screaming, “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, SLOW DOWN BEFORE YOU KILL US!!!”

You may at this point wish to break out your old air guitar and join us in a respectful rendition of the chorus: > “Here I go again on my own,
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone,
And I know what it means,
To walk along this lonely street of dreams!”

It is instructive and insightful to compare this classic hard rock hit of yesterday to some of today’s hits. Not Travis or Starsailor obviously, because the comparison would just kill them immediately. After all, you don’t lock a hungry alsation and a chirping budgie, neither of which have eaten for days, in a room together just to see which one survives. No, we should compare it against something that has massive popularity and huge general appeal.

Therefore, BB presents The totally objective and balanced Whitesnake vs. Will Young Comparison:

“Anything is possible/Evergreen” by Will Young	“Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake
Sung by fey young man with voice like a eunuch.	Sung by hairy bloke with eight bollocks.
Lush orchestration.	Loud guitars.
Modern, state-of-the-art production.	Really loud guitars. Man, if you turn the volume right up, it completely drowns out that whiny little turd from Pop Idol!
Ostensibly sophisticated and intelligent, but actually dumb as dirt.	Dumb as dirt. Fuck it, turn it UP and listen to those guitars!
Tuneful and gently melodic.	Tuneful and gently melodic intro obliterated by loud guitar riff and pounding drum line, while hairy bloke with eight bollocks bawls over the top of it all.
Family appeal.	Screaming guitar solo.
Lyrics about true love eternally or somesuch tosh.	Lyrics about self-reliance and casual sex, sublimated to the romantic pull of the open road.
Makes you want to vomit.	Makes you want to drive like a twat, stopping only to pound the heads of inoffensive young men in expensive suits.

So there you have it: believe only in the power of ROCK, kids, and reject false idols!