A friend of mine recently challenged me to write about Skid Row, claiming it to be a rather mundane endeavor. According to him, everyone knows the story, so what’s there to discuss? Little did he remember that I recently found myself face-to-face with Sebastian Bach himself, and that encounter brought the nostalgia flooding back along with a revelation.
But let’s rewind a bit.
Skid Row’s tale begins in the mid-’80s, in the heart of New York City, with a young guitarist named Dave Sabo, aka “The Snake.” Dave, a buddy of Jon Bon Jovi (you’ve probably heard of him), would often jam with Jon and dream big. They even made a pact: whoever made it first would help the other. Dave even played for Jon’s band before Richie Sambora joined the crew. When Richie came into the picture, Dave shifted gears and found himself a bassist named Rachel Bolan and a second guitarist, Scotti Hill. Rob Affuso took up the drums, and last but not least, the charismatic and powerful vocalist, Sebastian Bach, joined the ranks.
Now, the rest is quite well known. Jon and Richie shot to stardom first, and Skid Row’s manager, Doc McGhee, helped them secure a record deal with Atlantic Records to record their debut album, aptly named “Skid Row.”
Skid Row, at its core, was a product of its time, embodying the youthful rebellion and social critique of the late ’80s. Tracks like “Youth Gone Wild” were anthems for a generation seeking an identity. However, that era passed by quickly, much like Skid Row’s hits, and as I grew older, bands like Guns N’ Roses and Aerosmith remained my constants, accompanying me through the years.
Many of you here have an extensive music collection, some even boasting thousands of albums. Among those collections, I’m confident there’s scarcely a Skid Row record you’ve revisited, including their “The Best of” compilation. But when the melodies of “18 and Life” or “Quicksand Jesus” echo from somewhere, we all find ourselves passionately singing along. But why is that?
In my opinion, Skid Row chose not to conform to the changing tides of music but instead stuck to their winning formula of the late ’80s. However, they lacked a true visionary leader to sustain their inspiration throughout the years, unlike bands such as Megadeth with Dave Mustaine, Iron Maiden with Steve Harris, or Anthrax with Scott Ian—paragons of consistency in a world of ever-evolving music. Sabo and Bolan, while proficient songwriters, struggled to capture the essence of a new era as the ’90s rolled in. They couldn’t compete with the raw, unbridled power of Grunge, emerging from Seattle, a stark contrast to the glam and glitz of the ’80s. It wasn’t just Skid Row; many hard rock bands of that era struggled to resonate with the anger and despair of Grunge, exemplified by Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and Stone Temple Pilots.
Furthermore, Skid Row lacked a standout guitar virtuoso to carry them through the decades. If you pay attention, you’ll notice that most surviving hard rock bands of the era have a prominent “shredder” guitarist. Their songs are defined by memorable guitar solos. Skid Row’s catalog, however, is noticeably devoid of any truly iconic guitar solos, and it’s not for a lack of skill. Dave Sabo, as demonstrated in his cover of “Little Wing,” has the chops to deliver, but he chose not to. While bands like LA Guns and Poison have thrived with lead guitarists like Tracii Guns and C.C. Deville, Sabo’s decision to forgo the spotlight may have inadvertently contributed to Skid Row’s stagnation.
So, should one follow Bach’s approach of “doing whatever they please,” or Sabo and Bolan’s path of “staying loyal to their ideals”? Each of us must find our own answer to this question.
Twenty-five years from now, if someone says to me, “I used to follow the Emoodzik forum for a while,” I might just toss them a beer, not in jest, but as a token of camaraderie, and a reminder of the timeless spirit of rock ‘n’ roll.
In the end, it’s not about how long you stay at the party, but how hard you rock while you’re there. Cheers!