The alternative revolution revving out of the Pacific Northwest didn’t necessarily satisfy the entire hard rock contingent of the day. As the changing of the guard ensued during the final gasp of aerosol-sprayed arena rock glory, there remained an audience no longer fulfilled by the old guard, yet somewhat ambivalent about the new regime of anointed darlings. Weary of contrived camp and bored by trite lyrics depicting dungeons, dragons and painted ladies in the night, we sought something fresh, authentic and unpretentious. We still craved tanker-sized guitar riffs, punctuated by driving double kick drums and glossed with wailing vocals, but with a certain sense of sexiness that was lacking in the still-vital worlds of speed and thrash metal. Annie was a stunning Florida beauty. Tall and sl...
