This week In ‘Hard & Metal Throwback’ 02/52

1 . Jimmy Page & Aerosmith . Train Kept A Rollin’

Sometimes a song refuses to sit still, and “Train Kept A-Rollin’” is that restless freight car of rock history.

Originally performed by Tiny Bradshaw as a jump blues number in 1951, it later tore through the decades, gaining muscle and swagger along the way.

Aerosmith’s fiery 1974 rendition on *Get Your Wings* feels less like a tribute and more like a hostile takeover, turning Bradshaw’s shuffle into a hard rock blitzkrieg.

Their version, though credited to the band, slyly leaned on session pros Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner for its electrifying solos—an uncredited secret that adds a layer of mischief to the track’s legacy.

Even before Aerosmith, The Yardbirds and later Led Zeppelin laid claim to the song as a live staple, proving its versatility and timeless chaos.

But perhaps its moment of ultimate flair came in 1995 when Jimmy Page joined Aerosmith at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, weaponizing nostalgia with relentless riffs and unhinged energy.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Jimmy Page. ‘Master Riffer’

2 . Iron Maiden . The Number Of The Beast

Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast” is more than just a heavy metal anthem; it’s a cultural flashpoint that sparked debates, nightmares, and mosh pits alike.

Released in 1982 as the title track of their breakthrough album, the song marked the debut of Bruce Dickinson’s operatic wails, giving the band an edge that would define their sound for decades.

Fueled by a nightmare induced by “Damien: Omen II” and the gothic imagery of Robert Burns’ *”Tam o’ Shanter,”* this track blends horror movie theatrics with Biblical allusions to craft a vivid tale of satanic dread.

Set against a galloping rhythm section, searing guitar riffs, and Dickinson’s theatrical delivery, it embodies the best (and most theatrical) of ’80s metal.

The track’s spoken-word intro—originally meant for Vincent Price, whose fee was deemed too steep—remains iconic, even without the horror veteran’s trademark drawl.

The song wasn’t just a hit; it was a controversy magnet, with religious groups branding it as evidence of Satan’s grip on pop culture, which, if anything, only boosted its mythos.

Lifted from : Iron Maiden open ‘Rock In Rio’ (1985)

3 . Rush . The Spirit Of Radio

Rush’s “The Spirit of Radio” serves up a sharp critique of commercialized music wrapped in the band’s signature progressive rock brilliance.

Born in the creative incubation of a Western Ontario farmhouse and introduced during the *Permanent Waves* tour of 1979, the song owes its title and inspiration to Toronto’s CFNY Radio and its slogan of authenticity.

The track playfully defies categorization, fusing textbook prog-rock complexity with a laconic flirtation with reggae—giving listeners a curveball just as they think they’ve cracked its formula.

The lyrics pull no punches, taking a wry jab at the commodification of art, all while celebrating the untamed joy of music itself.

Commercially, it marked a turning point for Rush, becoming their first bona fide Top 20 UK hit, even though the song’s Billboard journey topped off at #51 in the States.

The lack of a traditional music video wasn’t a handicap, as live performance clips filled the void, showcasing the band’s prowess to a fervent audience.

Produced by Terry Brown and released via Anthem and Mercury Records, its juxtaposition of cerebral themes with accessible melodies cemented its status as a modern classic.

Lifted from : Rush release their seventh album . ‘Permanent Waves’ (1980)

4 . Metallica . Battery

“Battery” opens with a deceptive calm: a 36-second acoustic intro that lulls listeners before unleashing a torrent of thrash chaos.

It’s a track that feels like a shot of pure adrenaline, a love letter to aggression, resilience, and a community bound by distortion and power chords.

Naming the song after Battery Street in San Francisco, Metallica nods to their stomping grounds, an epicenter of the ’80s thrash scene.

By the time the full-band assault kicks in, the message is clear—this isn’t just music; it’s an ethos built on defiance and connection.

Fleming Rasmussen’s production keeps every riff and Lars Ulrich’s relentless drumming sharp enough to cut steel, perfectly suited to the song’s themes of energy and solidarity.

Its significance is woven into its history: debuting live in 1986, becoming a concert opener fans anticipate, and resurfacing in Mexico City decades later, undimmed in ferocity.

Lifted from : Metallica serenade Sacramento (1992)

5 . Rage Against The Machine . Fistfull Of Steel

“Fistful of Steel” from Rage Against the Machine’s 1992 self-titled debut album is, in many ways, a sonic manifesto of defiance.

The track roars forth with a fierce interplay of Tom Morello’s signature guitar effects and Zack de la Rocha’s incendiary lyrics, embodying the rap-metal genre that the band pioneered with uncompromising intensity.

There’s no video clip for this one, but the absence of visuals only sharpens the focus on the music itself—a thunderous blend of groove-laden riffs and politically charged messages.

Co-produced by GGGarth Richardson and the band, the song finds its roots in social resistance, challenging suppressive norms and advocating for the power of questioning authority.

The album, released under Epic Records, was recorded in Van Nuys, California, over several months in 1992, and though “Fistful of Steel” wasn’t a standalone single, it remains a live-show staple for the band’s devoted audience.

True to their ethos, this track channels frustration with a system that rewards silence and conformity, transforming it into raw energy powerful enough to shake walls—or, at least, headphones.

While the album as a whole peaked at #45 on the US Billboard 200, chart positions feel almost irrelevant here; the song’s explosive challenge to apathy and oppression ensures its timeless resonance.

Lifted from : As we wish today Zach de la Rocha, . Happy Birthday, the time is perfect for . ‘Rage Against the Machine At Their Bests’ post

6 . Primus . When The Toys Go Winding Down

Primus’s “When the Toys Go Winding Down” falls squarely into their unique brand of off-kilter musical mischief, where funk metal grooves meet unpredictable narratives.

The track emerged from the band’s early era, capturing their signature experimental flair and satirical edge. Though details surrounding its exact chart success or production are sparse, what’s clear is the song’s enduring cult appeal among the Primus faithful.

Les Claypool’s frenetic bass lines anchor the piece, employing his unmistakable slap-and-pop techniques that practically demand the listener’s attention. Paired with Tim Alexander’s syncopated drumming and Larry LaLonde’s jagged guitar riffs, the result feels eccentric yet oddly cohesive, a hallmark of Primus’s early work.

Lyrically, the song evokes a playful sense of nostalgia, hinting at moments of youth slipping into the rearview mirror. Its absurdist phrase “Fry ‘em up” injects humor, reinforcing a tone that is part childlike wonder, part biting commentary.

Notably absent of a music video or major pop-culture appearances, the track exists mostly in the shadow of larger hits from Primus’s catalog. Fans of their *Frizzle Fry* album—where the song finds its home—value this piece as a quintessential example of the band’s unorthodox style before they reached broader audiences.

Lifted from : Primus come to Sacramento (1990)

7 . Tool . The Grudge

Two decades after its release, *The Grudge* remains a blistering testament to Tool’s mastery of complex, searing narratives paired with meticulous instrumentation.

The opening track of 2001’s *Lateralus*, this prog-metal opus skirts the mainstream radar, absent from major charts but firmly embedded in the hearts of diehard fans.

Produced by David Bottrill and spearheaded by a band weathering legal battles and fractious side projects, the song carries an unmistakable weight.

Its raw theme—shedding the suffocating burden of resentment—digs deep into the psyche, with Maynard James Keenan’s iconic 25-second scream embodying a catharsis that borders on primal exorcism.

The track is a time-signature labyrinth, veering between meticulously controlled chaos and melodic introspection, flexing the band’s technical prowess at every beat.

Devoid of an official music video, its visuals live fleetingly on the stage, often delivering the opening salvo during the *Lateralus* tour.

Even without flashy trappings, *The Grudge* serves as a brutal meditation on emotional self-destruction, wielding its sonic chaos to force listeners into uncomfortable reflection—a signature Tool move.

>

Lifted from : Tool serenade San Diego (2016)

8 . Whitesnake . Guilty Of Love

Recorded during a time of transition for Whitesnake, “Guilty of Love” is a three-minute blitz of hard rock audacity that feels both polished and raw, a reflection of its tumultuous production history.

The initial work by Eddie Kramer aimed for a crisp edge but was later reshaped by Martin Birch, whose touch gave the track its heavier, more textured grit—an aesthetic the band would soon perfect.

Released as the first single from the *Slide It In* album, it crackled onto the UK Singles Chart with a modest peak at #31, but its influence far outlived its chart performance.

Performed live at the Monsters of Rock festival in 1983, the video captures the band’s synchronized energy, complete with dramatic dual lead guitars that nod to Thin Lizzy’s legacy while cementing the song’s place in early ’80s hard rock lore.

Lyrically, it’s all about passion tangled with remorse, with David Coverdale’s vocal swagger channeling both fiery intensity and a swoon-worthy vulnerability that works in charming contradiction.

If the song has a flaw, it’s in its reliance on familiar tropes—it’s Whitesnake often echoing their peers rather than breaking out of any creative boundaries.

Lifted from : Whitesnake open ‘Rock In Rio’ (1985)

9 . Van Halen . Panama

Released in 1984, “Panama” roars onto the scene as a hard rock anthem firmly anchored in Van Halen’s heyday.

Lifted from the appropriately named *1984* album, the track showcases the band’s signature flair for merging bombast with technical prowess.

Produced by Ted Templeman and distributed by Warner Bros. Records, it spent a comfortable 15 weeks on the Billboard charts, peaking at #13—a respectable spot for a song about a car.

Yes, despite its suggestive lyrics and double entendres, the song’s notorious muse wasn’t a woman but a drag race car named “Panama Express.”

The band leaned unapologetically into the criticism that David Lee Roth only crooned about girls, parties, and fast cars, responding cheekily by giving fans *exactly* that in one three-and-a-half-minute package.

The revving engine sound? Eddie Van Halen’s Lamborghini—decadence literally on wheels.

Its accompanying music video flips between concert footage shot at the Spectrum in Philadelphia and indulgent montages of roaring cars, underscoring the wild lifestyle baked into the band’s DNA.

Lifted from : Van Halen release their sixth album . ‘1984’ featuring ‘Jump,’ ‘Panama’ and ‘I’ll Wait’ (1984)

10 . Zakk Wylde & Foo Fighters . N.I.B

Picture this: Zakk Wylde, the burliest of guitar-slingers, teaming up with the Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl, of all people, on bass to pay homage to Black Sabbath—a union that’s part love letter and part flex.

On January 10, 2015, the duo stomped onto The Forum stage in Los Angeles with a rendition of “N.I.B.” that felt like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Wylde’s gritty, growling vocals and ferocity on the guitar gave Sabbath purists a reason to nod approvingly, while Grohl, ever the musical chameleon, proved that he could hold down Geezer Butler’s thundering grooves with aplomb.

But let’s address the elephant in the room: no production credits, no glossy studio album, not even an official video clip—just pure, unfiltered performance.

It doesn’t even try to be anything more than what it is: a raw, blistering tribute to a band that wrote the heavy-metal playbook.

Wylde and Grohl didn’t reinvent the wheel here, but they sure made it scream, capturing the primal edge that Sabbath fans live for.

What makes this live performance memorable isn’t just its fidelity to the original but its slightly ragged energy, tightening and loosening like an iron yo-yo swinging between reverence and chaos.

Heavy metal and hard rock purists could argue whether this collaboration grabs the spirit of Black Sabbath by the horns or simply grazes it, but to everyone at The Forum, it was a headbanging triumph.

Lifted from : Dave Grohl invites some famous friends for his birthday (2015)

11 . Foo Fighters . Hey Johnny Park!

In 1997, nestled within *The Colour and the Shape*, “Hey Johnny Park!” doesn’t scream for attention—it asserts itself quietly, like an old friend sliding back into view.

Dave Grohl’s decision to name the track after a childhood buddy he’d drifted apart from feels both deeply personal and charmingly random, a reflection of the song’s duality: intimate yet universal.

Musically, it’s a quintessential slice of alternative rock and post-grunge—melancholic chords sparring with bursts of electrified fury, all underpinned by Grohl’s vocal elasticity, where whispers turn to howls in a matter of heartbeats.

Lyrically ambiguous yet emotionally rich, it spins themes of reconnection and faded ties into something that’s less a direct narrative and more a foggy emotional snapshot.

The song never charted, perhaps because its strength lies more in subtle complexities than obvious hooks, but for fans, it’s a standout moment within the album’s patchwork of catharsis and melody.

Interestingly, it has been tinkered with in live sets, occasionally slowed down to a more reflective pace, proving its adaptability without losing its essence.

Lifted from : As we wish Dave Grohl . Happy Birthday, the day is perfect for . ‘Foo Fighters At Their Bests’ post

12 . Queens Of The Stone Age . You Can’t Quit Me Baby

Queens of the Stone Age’s “You Can’t Quit Me Baby” is a track drenched in desert heat and emotional unrest, encapsulating a love affair that’s as toxic as it is unshakeable.

Released as part of their self-titled 1998 debut, it delivers a hypnotic groove, a hallmark of stoner rock, with layers of tension simmering beneath Josh Homme’s deadpan vocal delivery.

The production—handled by Homme himself alongside Joe Barresi—takes place in the arid expanse of Palm Desert, imbuing it with a raw, unpolished aesthetic that feels both intimate and unrelenting.

The lyrics, penned by Homme and Alfredo Hernandez, echo themes of obsessive love and unraveling relationships, shifting between vulnerability and veiled disdain.

The slow burn of the arrangement mirrors the volatility of the subject matter, gradually building to an unhinged climax without ever losing control.

Its absence from any official charts or music video releases doesn’t dim the track’s impact; instead, it thrives on its cult appeal, resonating with listeners drawn to its uneasy intimacy.

Performed during the band’s early tours, “You Can’t Quit Me Baby” proved itself a live staple, setting the tone for their career-long exploration of dysfunction and desire.

Lifted from : Queens of the Stone Age rock in Rio (2001)