I was around 11 years old, maybe younger. My favorite tape, The Back to the Future soundtrack, had just been confiscated by my mom due to her claiming I was listening to it too much. To be honest, in retrospect I was: I would play the cassette all day in my Walkman and fall asleep to it at night. But I was devastated. Mortified.
So I was in a strange limbo. I had no music. Fortunately, she hadn't confiscated my walkman, but this was dire straights. I needed help, and quickly.
I went to the next door neighbors house. Teddy, a guy I had a major crush on, lived there with his two older brothers, who were quite intimidating. But I needed music. Now. I knocked on their door and one of the older brothers answered.
"Do you have any music I can borrow?" I asked. "My mom took away my tape."
The older brother snapped into action immediately. "Hold on a sec," he said, disappearing into the house.
He came back to the door with a white tape. "Here," he said. "Take this. It's all I got."
I looked at the tape. White Lion. Pride.
I looked at him with gratitude. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you so much."
I put that tape in and listened to it so many times I can't really give you a solid number. The emo tunes, the hair metal guitar, the raspy voice of the lead singer: I felt like they were singing to me.
"Lonely Nights" became one of my favorites immediately. I swore the singer was singing about me, a girl likes a boy, the boy likes someone else--did I know that would be the story of my life? I had crushes on a few boys who didn't like me back. It all made sense. The next song, "Don't Give Up," became another anthem. "Are you tired of working 9 to 5...don't give up." I didn't work 9 to 5 but I was tired of going to school 8 to 3. I could relate.
I fell asleep every night soothed by emo glam metal before emo was even an official thing. The harmonies, the crazy cheesy lead solos, the raspy voices... bliss to my 11-year old ears.
"Lady of the Valley" was another epic anthem and a favorite on the tape. Most of the songs seemed to talk about crying and growing old. It's like, at 11, I could feel existential compassion. These dudes were warning me of what was to come. They wanted to be kids still. I was a kid. They really were singing to me. "All Join Hands" made me want to raise my hands in solidarity. "Fight for the lives that are real!" As opposed to the lives that were not real...
Looking back, I wonder though, how many times can you sing about children crying on one album?
But the best song on the album for me was "When The Children Cry." Oh man, what a tear jerker. Rock dudes singing about the kids, of which group I belonged to. Rock and Roll that cared about me? It wasn't long before I was diving into Guns "N" Roses and Black Sabbath and Alice Cooper and other big bad rock n' roll bands, leaving poor neglected White Lion to the dogs, but I'll never forget they saved me in a period of anguish after my mom confiscated my favorite tape.
"Whoaaah, all you need is rock and roll."
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