Dio - Dream Evil

Warner Brothers, 1987

I awoke in my bed, walked into the living room, and then found myself back in my bed again.  I tried another two or three times to get up, but I found myself back in bed.  The last time I attempted to get up, I ended up in my bathroom staring at my own decaying corpse, hallowed eyes reflected back at me in the mirror.  Terror struck at my very core.  I struggled to wake myself from my nightmare.  These dreams continued for years until I accepted them as simply part of my life.  The dreams dissipated but did not disappear.  The last instance was a morning I found myself paralyzed in my bed watching my girlfriend reading her homework.  I struggled awake, and asked my girlfriend, who was reading her homework, if I opened my eyes.  She said I did not stir.

I came to Dio's Dream Evil after I struggled with these nightmares, but the notion resonated with me.  I knew dream evil firsthand.  I was not dissuaded when the keyboard chugs out the opening cords of "Night People."  "Do you like the dark? ... Do you come alive when neon kills the sun?"  Sleeping was not a high priority when your dreamscape is high-jacked by terror.  I had learned to stay up late and toss restlessly through the morning light.  I was night people.

Dio moves into melodic crushing that he built his career on.  "Dream Evil" speaks of the "dark that you find in the back of your mind."  He implores, "Don't open the door. ... Don't sleep any more."  I could only escape my nightmares when I crossed through a gate, accepting the terror that awaited me.  I did open the door, but I simply did not care anymore.  Something had changed in my life where I was able to allow one part of myself to die and give up.  I no longer felt pain or fear.  Another part of me still beats with compassion, longing and heart, but they were now separated, destined to swing wildly in opposition like two fighters bound together.

The next few songs amp up the emotion and demonstrate the full power of Dio's brilliance.  "Sunset Superman" is one of those songs whose chorus rings through your mind like a metronomic cowbell.  At random times, I find my mind singing out "Sunset Superman."  Such a powerful lyrical melody.  Frankly, I have lost sight of the song, but cannot get the resonant chorus out of my mind.  "Sunset Superman."

"All the Fools Sailed Away" is what a power ballad is all about.  It lacks the full-on cheese the drips out of bastardized publishing company darlings.  And when I say cheese, I am meaning, literally, the desiccated semen and vaginal fluids congealing on one's private parts after an evening of drug and alcohol fueled coitus between two disgustingly whorish partners.  With Dio, the song develops into a crescendo of emotion unhampered by the pretenses of catering to male or female hormones for maximum market share.  Dio allows me to enjoy the mellow lament of the lyric, "I never fail to be astounded by the things we'll do for promises and a song" without feeling like I need to wash the stink of some cock-rock band out of my mind.

I have a special affection for "Naked in the Rain" because I always want to run around naked in the rain.  There is something just damn sexy about the idea.  I am going to have to try it before I begin to look like the Pillsbury dough boy.  I think Dio was talking about stripping away pretenses, but I prefer to think of me dancing around in my altogethers with nothing to hide and a nice downpour tickling my bare ass.

I guess I could go on, but the rest of the album beats out a strong pulse.  "Overlove" is dynamic while "I Could Have Been a Dreamer" laments.  "Faces in a Window" and "When a Woman Cries" closes the album.

Dio's album is meaningful to me in many ways.  It captures the terror of teenage nightmares but also the longing for a different future - an overcoming of fear.  It is also just a solid metal album full of a range of emotions.  I've enjoyed all Dio's albums - some more than others, but only because I have had differing amounts of time to become acquainted with them.  When I heard that DIo had passed, I was taken aback.  I tend to keep the lives and deaths of people in the media in perspective, but some touch me more than others.  Dio was the same age as my mother when she passed, just a number of months before.  I understand how deeply personal such a loss is at that age for family and friends.  As fans, we cannot possibly understand their loss, but we are touched by Dio's brilliance and will miss his contributions to our life.

While it is not the same, we all have shared a bit in his life in little ways.  I will never forget the show Dio played in Springfield, Oregon in a tiny, now defunct, bar.  He was ground level with his band, crow-barred into some nook and cranny in the middle of the club.  My friend (SoDak) and I crammed forward to gaze over the crowd to see Dio just a few feet from where we stood.  At one point, I remember him looking back at his band members, stuffed uncomfortably behind him.  He gave an expression of, "do you believe how fucking crazy this crowd is?" and the band members shrugged.  He turned back and rocked on with renewed vigor.

Rock on Ronnie!  Your music is a buffet of sweet sticky balls.  It was great while it lasted.  Thank you!

Sweet Dreams Motherfuckers,

Kloghole