#WOMAN ROCK YOUR BODY SONG CHORUS FULL#

The facts are this: American Idiot the album is one of the best rock records of all time (I could write 1,000 words about this, but I’ll just say: a) the songcraft is legitimately virtuosic b) it contains the lyric “ I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allen Poe” and c) concept albums can be tiresome unless they’re so big and stupendous that you could legitimately make a Broadway musical out of them – Billie Joe Armstrong and Gerard Way both understood this in the mid-2000s), and “American Idiot” the song was its flag in the ground. Haters will call it butt rock, but real ones will see it for what it is: a Bloody Huge Tune. Lewis was younger and broodier than most vocalists in the nu metal scene that Staind fell in with (largely thanks to Fred Durst, who initially called them “ wack devil worshippers” because their debut album art features an image of a bloodied knife impaling The Bible, but then saw them live, did a massive U-Turn and pushed the band in front of anyone he could), and “So Far Away” definitely draws more from Alice In Chains or Pearl Jam than Limp Bizkit. Filed not incorrectly under “male vocals” and “longing” on, the song finds frontman Aaron Lewis moving away from the self-effacing tone of previous singles “It's Been Awhile” and “Outside”, and instead counting his blessings (including the recent birth of his daughter, Zoe, who appears in the video). But “Scuzz bangers” as a musical category, as a vibe, will endure – in the hearts of everyone who has a hole in their lip from removing their Dahlia bites, and on the cider-sticky dance floors of rock clubs that have had the same playlist on rotation since the start of the Iraq War.īasically Creed for people who wore jorts, Staind owned the early 2000s with their mammoth crossover hit “So Far Away”. It belongs to a bygone era one that feels even more distant thanks to the fact that rapid technological advancement has rendered the entire concept of a television completely redundant to anyone under the age of 23. Scuzz ceased transmission in November of 2018. It was the dirty pint at the centre of rock, punk, emo, goth, crabcore and whatever else, gulped down by a generation who saw no point in making distinctions between them, and instead just wore a corset with jeans.

It was cramming five CDs inside a jewel case so you could listen to more than one album on the bus, and scratching the shit out of all of them the fear of someone knocking an ornament of unknown value off the mantlepiece at a “gathering” you shouldn’t have been having spewing Hooch onto your Converse in the middle of the afternoon.

It was Hollywood and nu metal joining forces to give us greebo blockbusters like Queen of the Damned and The Scorpion King. It was your wallet chain getting caught between the seat and the legs of the chair during registration.

#WOMAN ROCK YOUR BODY SONG CHORUS FULL#

Scuzz was full of low budget videos shot in warehouses and junkyards, starring bands dressed exactly as you were while sat in your living room watching them.

More importantly, though, Scuzz was the only place besides Channel U and MySpace to mirror youth culture back at itself as it actually was, rather than showing the hyper-commercial rendering of what it could become. It was also, curiously, the first channel to give exposure to then-up-and-coming American bands like Paramore and Pierce the Veil. The channel was instrumental in breaking British artists like Enter Shikari and Bullet For My Valentine in the 2000s, and would do the same for Milk Teeth and Creeper in the 2010s. Then, there was Scuzz, a 24-hour station that arrived in April of 2003, ready to beam regional metalcore into 12 million homes across the UK and Ireland. MTV2 had a bratty attitude that leaned more towards garage and art rock, Kerrang! drew on the legacies of heavy metal and grunge, and P-Rock basically just played “Shoes” by Jesse James on loop. While they all shared a common language at the beginning of the 00s, working from a base diet of Nirvana, Green Day and No Doubt, each had its own particular identity. Which, pre-YouTube, was one of the following channels: MTV2, Kerrang!, the tragically short-lived P-Rock, or Scuzz. Whether you were round a mate’s house eating Wotsits after school, crashing at your nan’s during the summer holidays or getting wasted on someone’s dad’s “Christmas” rum because everyone was too young and broke to go out, teenagers of the alternative disposition would naturally gravitate towards any screen that displayed someone playing an Ibanez in jorts.

Music video channels were the fireplaces of the early 21st century: a talking point, something to gather around.

Woman rock your body song chorus