A Poisonous Review

I am writing in response to Mike Boehm’s review of the Poison/Slaughter and BulletBoys concert (“It’s Only Raunch ‘n’ Roll,” Calendar, May 21). I realize that it is not very difficult to insult three bands that you obviously don’t care for, but I attended that “simple, energetic, dumb-fun hard-rock fare” and loved every second of it. Come to think of it, so did everyone around me.

If Poison’s lead singer, Bret Michaels, has such a scratchy voice, why does the public spend millions of dollars on the group’s CDs and tapes? If guitarist C.C. Deville “squirts thick, dirty riffs” out of his guitar, and drummer Rikki Rockett produces a “trash-can smash” with his drum set, why did I hear people screaming “I love you, C.C.” and “Yeah, Rikki”? If these bands have no talent, why did people even bother to buy tickets and overpriced T-shirts, and sit out in the cold when they could have stayed home?

And why, oh why, did they let someone like Boehm go to the concert and come back writing all this garbage about three groups who were considerate enough to come to Irvine and put on one heck of a show? I would have liked to see him go up on stage and do a better job than any of those guys.

As far as his shallow comment about Poison not being a “thinking person’s hard-rock band,” I would like to point out that music is something that you feel in your spirit, and it has nothing to do with intellect. My suggestion to people like Boehm, who don’t appreciate the music of Poison and their fellow rockers, is to keep their unsolicited, derogatory opinions to themselves. Mike, in case your mom neglected to tell you, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

LIA MARCOTE

Dana Point