In his meaty hands, Tad Doyle holds a buzzing chainsaw, his face twisted into a maniacal scowl so mean it would make Satan soil his drawers.
It’s reassuring to know that, amid all the talk of financial woes, there’s still somebody out there willing to spend $12,000 on a Pink Floyd LP. Of course, this isn’t just any old copy of Meddle, but a rare Colombian blue-vinyl pressing, in VG++ shape.
They all laughed at Arjen Lucassen. It was the mid-’90s, and nobody was doing rock opera anymore — not with grunge and its Doc Martens kicking anything that smacked of self-indulgence off the charts and out of record company boardrooms.
Trace the roots of grunge’s greatest success story.