by Happy Kreter
Photo by Kahla Walkoski
In the 1980s, Dokken played concerts to tens of thousands of people per night from Tokyo to Toronto, Frankfurt to Philadelphia. Hordes of fans flocked to sing along and raise their fists and lighters into the smoke-filled air. When the arena lights went down, euphoria reigned as the first strains of hit singles like “Just Got Lucky” and “Breaking the Chains” resounded at decibel levels as exaggerated as the bands hair-sprayed coiffures. And when the stage lights burst forth on the four men clad in glittering jackets, with ball-huggers tucked into fluorescent leather cowboy boots, they might have passed for the crown princes of rock n’ roll.
But in 2009, at a nightclub in Tempe, Arizona with a seating capacity of 600, Dokken’s headlining night is slotted between “Salsa Dancing Tuesdays” and “Dave Matthews Tribute Sundays.”
Dokken was part of the ‘80s phenomenon now remembered as “hair metal,” a sub-genre of heavy metal played almost exclusively by men in tight pants and neon eye-shadow, with hair-dos teased to the heavens. The range of lyrical subjects was typically limited to themes of heartbreak and/or fucking, with sprinklings of rebellion and intoxication here or there. The songs retained the virtuoso musicianship and high-pitched vocals of heavy metal, but were less aggressive both musically and lyrically, and tended toward more traditional pop structure and hooks, which gained hair bands mainstream success throughout the ‘80s.
However, with the rise of early ‘90s grunge bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam, the listening public’s taste shifted. Overnight, hair metal bands, some with millions of album sales to their name, found themselves with a drastically shrunken fan base. Most acts broke up, unable to make the shift from rock stars to club-band.
Unlike so many of their peers, Dokken never got the chance to die on the vine. Internal tensions caused the band’s first breakup in 1988, just before the rise of grunge. Members of Dokken started new projects, a couple of which met with middling success initially, but petered out shortly thereafter. In 1994, Dokken made an attempt at a comeback, but before long, old conflicts resurfaced. This time, lead singer Don Dokken continued recording and touring with a mix of original and substitute members, retaining the band name. Despite the renewed commitment, Dokken wallowed in continually greater obscurity over the next 15 years. Recently, however, things are looking up. With the pendulum having reached its zenith on the other side of spandex, fans are rediscovering hair metal and its paradox of being simultaneously ridiculous and rockin’.
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Though far from recapturing the popularity of their heyday, bands like Dokken are resurfacing en masse, many with only a portion of their original line-ups. In some cases, a history of personality conflicts has lead to two competing modern day versions of the same classic hair.
In some ways, it’s not surprising that Dokken is one of the latter-day bands toiling on the club circuit. Dressing in brightly coloured, sequined leather may not exactly scream blue-collar, but Dokken was, in fact, a hard-working ‘80s success story.
“We were broke,” Don Dokken tells LivingLegendsMusic.com, referring to the band’s status in the early ‘80s. “[The record company said] they’re not going anywhere, we gave them a push, it’s over.” Dokken begged for one more shot and produced Tooth and Nail, which became the band’s first platinum album.
However, even after selling another million copies of their third album, 1985’s Under Lock and Key, Dokken remained primarily an opening act for heavy metal legends Judas Priest. After recording a song featured prominently in A Nightmare on Elm Street movie, Dokken’s fourth album, Back for the Attack, became their biggest success.
But in the ‘80s generation of excess, even a total of over 3.5 million album sales paled in comparison to the likes of Whitesnake’s self-titled album Whitesnake (5 million copies by 1988), Poison’s Open Up and Say Aaah (4 million copies by 1989) or Mötley Crüe (whose four multi-platinum albums in the ‘80s topped 9 million in sales). Dokken was wildly successful by most standards, but still had not reached hair metal’s A-list. In support of their fourth album, they opened for Aerosmith before joining the ill-fated Monsters of Rock tour. Then, tensions within the band peaked, and at the pinnacle of their popularity, they broke up.
When Dokken eventually reformed in 1994, grunge had arrived and the rock landscape had changed for good. Audiences were no longer interested in larger-than-life caricatures wearing mascara and hairspray whose principal concerns were executing ostentatious guitar solos and getting laid. Instead, the listening public clamoured for songs by Seattleites dressed like thrift-store lumberjacks whose principal concerns were depression and adolescent misfortune. Don Dokken puts it this way: “I saw [Nirvana] and said, ‘it’s all over now’.”
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The public’s current level of interest in the reappearance of hair metal, while relatively slight, is incredible given the genre’s absolute death in the grunge-era. This may be partly due to a younger generation of bands, like Sum 41, All-American Rejects, and American Hi-Fi, who were near the top of the rock charts at the dawn of the 21st century. Each of these bands paid homage to metal fromage in videos and interviews, by sporting hair metal band t-shirts, or by incorporating elements of the genre into their own songs. Though far from signaling a complete resurrection, the attention put hair metal back on the radar and made it acceptable to acknowledge the genre once again.
Starting around 2005, just a few years after those chart-topping bands debuted, something happened that rock fans of the ‘90s would have deemed unthinkable – a new generation of actual hair metal bands began to emerge.
The geographical epicenter for the genre’s revival is Scandinavia, home to bands like Crashdïet, Hardcore Superstar, and Wig Wam, all of whom have charted in the top 12 overseas. Of the Nordic sleaze/hair generation, Swedish rockers Vains of Jenna have come closest to crossing over to North American success.
In 2005, their quest for the limelight took Vains of Jenna to Los Angeles to seek fame among the Sunset Strip hotspots that spawned the 80s’ biggest bands and hair-dos. At the Whiskey a Go-Go, once one of hair metal’s most hallowed venues, the band performed to a live audience for the first time.
The show led to a recording session with ex-Guns N’ Roses guitarist, Gilby Clarke, and a management deal. Shortly after that, an album was released on Filthy Note records, an independent record label owned by professional skateboarder and American T.V. personality Bam Margera, whose fondness for metal-inspired Scandinavian bands was previously responsible for launching the career of Finland’s HIM and Sweden’s Turbonegro, among others.
After an opening slot touring with two ‘80s stalwarts, Ratt and Poison, Vains of Jenna headed out on a headlining tour of the U.S. Typical venues for that tour held about 300 people — about 50% the size of what Dokken plays now, and 2% of what Dokken played in their prime.
Barely out of high school, Vains of Jenna are too young to remember hair metal’s glory days, but are intent on reviving not only the music, but everything about hair metal — from the fashion to the attitude.
While the new wave of hair metal bands have not shied from bright colours and poofy bleached coiffures, most current versions of ‘80s hair bands have toned down their look, wearing darker colors and using no hairspray to speak of (Dokken’s latest press photos show the band in black, button-up velvet shirts and regular-cut leather pants. Whether that is an improvement over the ‘80s style or not is another question entirely). Hoping to distance himself from his image of two decades ago, Don Dokken makes it sound as if he was never comfortable with ‘80s glam fashion. “I tried to be what I thought was what the record company wanted,” he tells KNAC.com, “but it wasn’t me.”
Burning Like A Flame
Being a rocker isn’t easy. Some consequences of the hair metal lifestyle have included:
Jail: Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee and singer Vince Neil have both served jail sentences.
Health issues: Guns N’ Roses guitarist Slash has had a pacemaker on his heart since age 35, while band mate Steven Adler suffered strokes resulting in a speech impediment and partial paralysis of his face. Both musicians’ maladies are drug related.
Death: The deaths of Ratt guitarist Robbin Crosby and Def Leppard guitarist Steve Clark are both related to substance abuse.
As for the attitude, it includes the bad boy antics that gained infamy for a number of ‘80s bands and produced a highly marketable brand of rebellion, despite well-publicized addiction, incarceration, severely degenerative health, and even death. “There still is loads of [drugs and alcohol],” says Vains of Jenna bassist JP White, speaking to SleazeRoxx. “On the road its pretty much party every day. We party pretty hard and sometimes too much.”
Meanwhile, Don Dokken claims that things are different these days for members of the first wave of hair metal. Whereas substance abuse once forged a bond between musicians, sobriety now fulfills a similar function. Referring to recent tours with Poison and Whitesnake, Don Dokken tells one interviewer, “Everyone’s talking about ‘I went to this rehab, what rehab did you go to?’ Everybody’s straight now… [and saying] if you need support, come see me.”
Gone too are the once commonplace sexual encounters with groupies. “There was a point we thought it was cool to be the biggest pig you could be,” says Don Dokken. “[Now,] the debauchery’s not there, it’s not backstage. Everyone’s walking around with their kids. [It’s] family hour.” But while the first generation of hair bands has left the lifestyle behind, the new generation attempts to pick up the slack.
Vains of Jenna and their sleaze rock contemporaries celebrate sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll with the subtlety of a jackhammer. Lyrics like “When she’s down on her knees / she’s easy to please” or “Everyday drinkin’ is a habit for me” reek of the kind of posturing that only a public overdose or sex tape scandal can redeem (although increasingly commonplace, the publicity blitz of a leaked celebrity sex-tape was originated by Mötley Crüe’s Tommy Lee and then-wife Pamela Anderson). However, Vains of Jenna will need to garner a few more fans before such an event might have any pop-culture currency.
Even though hair metal is more popular now than it has been since the early ‘90s, it is a fringe musical genre. For new hair bands, American audiences are slow to accept a rebirth. “People go ‘what the fuck!’ when they see us,” says JP White of the band’s experience in the U.S. “But it’s getting better — we see more and more kids with bandanas and tight pants all over the country.”
Hopefully the growing popularity of tight pants will translate to an increase in record sales, but so far the jury’s out as to whether American audiences will ever truly embrace hair metal as anything other than reminiscence.
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In the post-grunge atmosphere of the 2000’s, the image of the rock icon is neither the bombastic fluorescent-fetishist of the ‘80s nor the self-loathing hobo of the ‘90s. The record-buying public may be more at ease with hair-metal as a niche-market materializes, but it’s a stretch to imagine a band like Dokken or Vains of Jenna topping the charts any time soon.
Don Dokken laments the decline of virtuoso musicians, the lack of harmonizing, and what he considers poor song arrangement in modern popular rock. In response to the present musical climate, he’s tried to keep it real. “My thing was, we’ve seen all this Radiohead, System of a Down, Slipknot, you know? So what would the Beatles do? What would they sound like? This is what I think they would do.” Even if it’s true that Dokken’s approach to melody is more Beatles-esque than Slipknot’s, the comparison is bound to leave some people scratching their heads. Like his earlier comments about ‘80s metal attire, it’s the type of statement that betrays a sort of unease with hair metal’s legacy, if not the songs themselves.
Nevertheless, Don Dokken is proud of both his past and current success. “The last three or four times we’ve sold out Albuquerque,” he reports, speaking in a recent interview with KNAC.com. It’s not exactly global domination, but certainly there are a number of musicians for whom being big in New Mexico would mark a welcome rise in popularity.
Yet, the 55-year-old is realistic about his situation, “[I’ve] been there, gone to the top of the mountain, great view. I loved it, but now we’re back on the other side of the mountain.” Humility from a rock star is always endearing, however long ago the spotlight faded. He continues, explaining the resurging interest in hair metal, “It’s about memories; our songs remind people of a time in their lives, maybe a more innocent time.”
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A testament to the power of that nostalgia is Steel Panther. The group plays weekly gigs in L.A. and San Diego, as well as two weekly gigs in Las Vegas. 200 shows a year, many sold out, is remarkable for a hair metal band in the 21st century, but the group is neither a hold-over/resurrection from the ‘80s, nor are they part of the sleaze rock generation.
Steel Panther is a satirical cover band, playing classic ‘80s hard rock and metal tunes with exaggerated swagger and comedic personas, which, unlike those of some actual hair bands, are purposefully laughable. With a goal to “bring metal back to small countries like Europe,” the band picks up where Spinal Tap left off, but instead of 90-minutes on film, Steel Panther’s lampoon has become a career.
“Steel, it’s like, really hard, like metal,” says Steel Panther’s lead singer Michael Starr, explaining the band’s moniker on The New Music. “[And] panthers are sexy, but they’re also one of the fiercest marsupials.”
In interviews and on stage, the members of Steel Panther are always in character as mentally deficient misogynists, sending up the personas of many of the ‘80s most successful hair bands. Their dim-witted stage banter consists almost exclusively of crass humour – imagine Will Ferrell doing Andrew Dice Clay material.
Some things parody themselves without exaggeration. For example, Steel Panther’s look is a carbon copy of some of the ‘80s most successful acts. Their leopard-print tights, colourful lipstick, and pouting lips look over-the-top today, but would have been indistinguishable from other hair bands in the ‘80s (in fact, compare the portraits on the album covers of Steel Panther’s Hole Patrol and Poison’s Look What the Cat Dragged In, and you will be hard-pressed to say which is the real thing and which is satire).
In addition to entertainment, the band’s comedy acts as a buffer for fans to enjoy songs and a style they might otherwise be embarrassed to embrace. It’s presumably easier to pull out the old denim and leather and sing along at a Steel Panther show, where humour is expected by everyone in attendance, than at a Dokken or Vains of Jenna concert, where the laughing of bystanders might just as easily be of the “at” variety than of the “with” variety. Steel Panther’s crossover appeal means that, while the band attracts fans for its comedy, hair metal die-hards get the chance to relive some of their glory days.
The band, whose motto is “spread metal, not herpes,” seems to have hit the right high-pitched note with their audience. Their appeal is so broad that Steel Panther’s fan base includes pop superstars Jessica Simpson, Pink, the Rza, Kelly Clarkson, and Avril Lavigne, all of whom have appeared on stage with the rockers to sing classic hair metal tunes in what has become a kind of Sunset Boulevard celebrity karaoke.
All this attention suggests that perhaps the grunge-led backlash of the ‘90s obscured the true appeal and influence of hair metal. Indeed, it’s hard to imagine that people would continue to seek it out if hair metal’s only appeal was as novelty or cheesy laughing stock, especially in the case of Steel Panther’s gigs at the same venues every week. The truth is that beneath the preposterous get-ups there were serious musicians who spent years perfecting their chops and writing catchy pop-rock songs. Gradually, it’s becoming respectable to recognize that.
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After a long exile during which the perception of hair metal’s songs went from manna to manure, and its musicians from messiahs to pariahs, the genre may have turned another corner at last.
Hair metal has slowly crawled out from the rock under which it once hid. Mötley Crüe has returned to touring arenas and Poison lead singer Bret Michaels’ reality show is in its third season. As for Dokken, who rode the crest of the popularity wave all the way to the oblivion of dry land, the rock n’ roll tide seems to be rising at last. 26 years after their first release, Dokken’s 2008 full-length album of original material, Lightning Strikes Again, debuted at #133 on the Billboard 200, their biggest impact in years.
Both consistently positive reviews and the band themselves credit the success of Lightning Strikes Again to the revival of the classic ‘80s Dokken sound, from which they had strayed in the ‘90s. “We have returned to our roots,” says Don Dokken, “which is what the fans have been asking for.”
For Dokken, Vains of Jenna, and Steel Panther, the three bands’ histories and approaches to playing hair metal in the 21st century are quite different. With the spectre of the ‘90s behind them, each group is headed in a different direction, but each with reason to believe that, at last, the future is promising for them, their fans, and the music they love.
