“A wife had a baby, but it was born with only a head and no body. ‘Don’t worry,’ says the doctor. ‘Bring him back in five years time and we’ll probably have a body for him’. So five years go by, and there’s Eddie the ‘Ead, as his parents have called him, sitting on the mantelpiece, when in walks his dad. ‘Son,’ he says, ‘today’s a very special day. It’s your fifth birthday and we’ve got a very special surprise for you.’ ‘Oh no,’ says Eddie. ‘Not another fucking hat!'”
You know those Baby Beethoven (name remembered utilizing the Bill and Ted technique of spelling “”beeth oven?”) things? A product of the Baby Einstein market, it is just another thing worried parents buy for their children to give them a head start on being the most intelligent, self sustaining, and happy individual they can be. Straight from the Disney sales site: “Baby Einstein CDs are especially tailored to little ears and help nurture a life long love of music.” My parents believed this way before this was invented in 1996; only their musical choices were a wee bit left of classical.
I have a very clear memory of utilizing an Iron Maiden cassette case as an additional character in the never ending war between the forces of Me (She-Ra, My Little Pony, various headless Barbies) and He (limbless GI Joes, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and He-Man). Eddie was awesome. Eddie was my character with the God-moves against the Fox’s fully animatronic Godzilla. Godzilla had that amazing shriek and Eddie sang the Trooper or Number of the Beast in my terribly off-key voice.
We were imaginative children.
Iron Maiden was just one of the bands my father had on continuous play, but other album covers just did not have the personality of Eddie. Judas Priest was bad ass, but did they have one dude show up on ever cover being anything from a cyborg to a mummy? No sir! Alice Cooper sure sang about a Frankenstein, but not even he had the imagination catching charisma of Eddie. And Blondie? Well, she sure was no She-Ra.
Eddie, and my parental unit’s musical choices, led me down the path of the imaginative and spooky. I have, just as Baby Einstein shills, grown up with a life long love of music. Sure, I love Shostakovich; but give me growling voices, shrieks that I swear only bats can hear, lyrics that romance the dead and raise hell with the living, and men in leather as well.
Please, enjoy this pleasantly old-timey PV, and then follow the link below to the next delightful Monster in this Hop!