Impressing the hot chicks (strike-thru) dudes

I was in a super talented Metal band in California in early 1990. So talented that we were a singer away from being a solid band, which could have probably played some of the larger clubs at the time.

In the back of my mind, I already knew that I should focus on songwriting. Instead, I focused on playing guitar 90+ mph.

I thought that would impress the babes. But in reality, it was always dudes after the show talking to me. “Whoa! I can’t believe you can do those Phrygian licks with augmented 4ths and 7ths, then slide all the way up the neck that fast and finish with diminished runs.” And another male friend of mine called me “BB King on Speed.”

The hot chicks? They’re bored out of their minds when you play super fast. You end up performing for sausage fests where the only girls in the audience are either your bands’ girlfriends or the opening bands’ girlfriends.

When I met my wife, she straight up told me to listen to more Santana and a lot less Yngwie Malmsteen.

She shoots straight. Doesn’t mince words.

I got back into music in 2007 after not touching a guitar since 1995. At first, I joined another band, then formed my own in 2009. And I took my wife’s words to heart.

The songs were good. But we still didn’t have the singer to sell the songs and get us over the top.

Which is fine because after doing extensive research into the music industry, I learned that most musicians starve. Even the huge names.

For instance, everyone who lived thru the 90s knows TLC. Did you know they weren’t worth shit? However, they made the record companies rich.

And according to Courtney Love, Toni Braxton sold $188 million worth of CDs (that’s not a typo) and still didn’t make shit.

So I’m almost thankful to have failed in the music industry. Because today I ain’t doing too badly.

But that’s not the point of this article. The point is actually an homage to Rob Says, who I met irl and is a pretty cool guy.

A lot of things that men do to impress the hot chicks end up impressing other men instead.

Weightlifting

Like weightlifting for instance. I can tell you my numbers. If you were a man, you’d be impressed. If you’re a hot chick? Those numbers more than likely don’t mean shit. I might as well be speaking Latin.

The most famous weightlifter of our lifetime is unarguably Arnie Schwartzwasher (an homage to Little Fanny Annie, which is before a lot of y’all’s time).

Bless her heart, but Maria Shriver (his wife up until last year) was never an attractive women. Even with the world’s best makeup artists, that’s the best they could do.

Then of course, Arnie cheated on her with a woman who was not only less attractive, but considerably less attractive.

He impressed the shit out of other men. No doubt about that.

But hot babes?

Hot babes like Tom Brady, Prince, Motley Crue, the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Joe Montana. Not Arnold.

Back to music

Women like songs they can relate to. Or songs they can dance to. One or the other. Or preferably both.

One day, I was drawing Roxy. She was wearing only panties and spontaneously just started dancing. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

At that moment, I knew I had to write a song for her. So I wrote Princess for the Night.

No 90+ mph guitars. Nothing too fancy.

It’s a dance song, designed for you to enjoy either driving down the road really loud or dancing your ass off in a club to it.

Before I got into Metal, I was heavily into Journey and ABBA. Don’t laugh. I still like both to this day. And yes, I did like a lot of the disco at the time, especially when Deborah Harry sang it (Heart of Glass).

Then of course, Ozzy Osbourne got booted out of Black Sabbath, almost drank himself to death, and got rescued by a young kid named Randall Rhoads. Which is how I got into Metal. But that’s another story for another day.

So to compose Princess, I had to dig back into the 70s, and put on a lot of Diana Ross, ABBA, and the Bee Gees. And really, really feel that groove.

Funny story – now I remember I did get a compliment from a woman when I was in that early 1990 band. I didn’t get that compliment until about a year later though.

I was with one of the members of the now defunct band and she said she remembered my lead playing and it was pretty good. But she also was a lesbian. Now, not one of them scarysaurus ones but a feminine one who just happened to prefer pussy from pretty but slightly overweight girls.

Yes, we all have our “types.” Those who say they don’t are usually lying.

Roman

Pinup Artist. Composer. Writer.

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. freemattpodcast

    Unfortunately, you are correct. So was “Rerb”.

    Lifting to take care of my body and self was more important than trying to flex.
    I quit talking about it in general.

    I don’t get into the fashion shit for the same reasons you mentioned. It seems like a circle jerk. (Note I got booted from a men’s fashion subreddit for saying so.).

    The stuff that impressed women wasn’t the run of the mill shit but stuff I did naturally.

    1. admin

      Ah yes. The 3 of us agree on the weightlifting thing. I do it so I can add a few years onto my life.

      As for male fashion, once again, you’ll get other men noticing the tie or the suit or the watch. Yup. All this stuff becomes a circle jerk.

  2. The story about how shredding solos around diminished and augmented chords cracked me up. It’s so true—we think girls will love that stuff, but it only attracts other (male) music nerds.

    My younger brother and I love Yngwie, and he and his wife danced to one of his ballads at their wedding. But he once asked her if she would fall in love if a little guy showed up at her stoop, plopped down an amplifier, and shredded out an Yngwie solo. She said no. He and I were dumbfounded.

    It’s why I love chicks who play bass. But a no chick wants a bassist.

    1. admin

      I saw Yngwie live back in the Jeff Scott Soto days. A highly underrated singer. It’s a shame Yngwie treated him like crap.

      I too love chicks who play bass. But yeah, the chicks usually go for either the singer or the drummer. It’s almost comical looking back. After the shows, chicks went straight to the singer while I (the shredder) got other male music nerds, exactly as you said it.

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