Waxwing – Appetizer (Reissue)
“There is No Conceivable Reason
Why This Band Couldn’t Have Been Huge”
Written by Big Bear Buchko

The first band to blow me away with the heft and heaviness of their sound was Skid Row with the title track from their second album; Slave to the Grind. It was 1994, I was ten years old, and I’d only known of Skid Row from the poster on the wall of a teenage neighbor girl that I desperately fancied. She loved Guns ‘n Roses and Skid Row, and in my attempt to swoon her with mutual knowledge of music from her angst-ridden life soundtrack, I’d purchased Use Your Illusions I & II - which I loved and still love to this day – and the groundbreaking, window-shaking Slave to the Grind. It was the hard, chuggy guitars of “Slave to the Grind” that really opened my eyes to what hard could actually be.

The girl grew up a little, found drugs, ended up a teenage mother, and I… wanted absolutely no part of that mess in the slightest. We haven’t spoken but once in the last thirty years, but I’ve kept that music near, dear, and close to my heart ever since. And even now, I find the powerful punch behind the opening barrage of “Slave to the Grind” is unrivaled. At the time, I decided to use Skid Row and Guns ‘n Roses as a jumping-off point, working in two directions; forward, onto Tool, White Zombie, and heavier, more-modern bands; and backward, onto Iron Maiden, Motley Crue, Poison, and the like. Basically, those that inspired that who came after, because it’s important to learn your roots.  

While Waxwing lacks the deep, crunchy end of a Skid Row or the weird sexual intensity of Van Halen (there’s not a single Van Halen song that doesn’t make me feel like I’m not under immediate threat of being raped by David Lee Roth), there’s really no believable excuse as to why Waxwing shouldn’t be held in the same regard as the other high-vocals, fast-tapping, pushed and polished acts of the period. They originally formed as a small hair metal act in the Miami club scene in 1982, and within a year had grown to a full four-piece tour de force dubbed “Waxwing.” In 1984, half of the band decided to relocate to Seattle and reform with new members, leaving the two others behind (which is such a dick move).

And then, despite the fact that the Pacific Northwest scene was greatly receptive to the band, the same two that left Miami for Seattle… left Seattle for Miami, leaving those other two new guys behind (double dick move). They brought the other two guys back in… until they decided to do the same damn thing again and went back to Seattle (dicks to me once, shame on me…) In 1988, they entered Steve Lawson’s indie studio in Washington and recorded their four-track EP entitled Appetizer, slated for release to market in 1989. They did their best to tour the circuit on the strength of that one, small-time release, but by 1990, the high-vocals, fast-tapping, pushed and polished scene was nearing it’s death nell, thanks to the droning vocals and happy heroin guitars of the encroaching grunge movement – ironically enough, coming straight from Seattle.

I have no doubt in my mind that if Waxwing hadn’t constantly been in search for that greener grass, we would probably be talking about them today with the same reverence we do the Crue, the Cult, or something like Damn Yankees, because listening to the 2024 remaster/reissue of the 1988/1989 four-track EP Appetizer perfectly frames a band that not only “could’ve been,” they honestly “should’ve been.” There is no conceivable reason why this band couldn’t have been huge in the early-to-mid-1980s; the drums are expertly 80s-metal reverbed; the guitars are fast and intricate – the kind that bring to mind the best of Nuno Bettencourt from Extreme or Metal Magic-era Dimebag; and the vocals are that great warbling, whiny, squeezed-balls caterwauling that defined a generation. (A generation they almost didn’t have because, you know, squeezed balls.)

We open with “Pictures of You,” and to my disappointment, it is not a cover of the Cure song from Disintegration. Putting that aside, this song is just fun. The guitars are excellent, with true and proper Eddie VH-style neck-and-bridge tapping, and the chorus is true rock stadium sing-along fodder. “Alone in the Night,” while very much a different song in its own right, still features a lot of the same – in no way stated derogatorily. This is the first time I scribble the note “why didn’t these guys make it?” and the constant moving around and shifting of band members is truly the only answer I can come up with. “Alone in the Night” sounds very much like the perfect closing credits song for any movie of that timeframe. This would have been a classic ‘80s soundtrack stand-out.

“Riding Out” is their ode to Iron Maiden in every aspect; the vocals are done in Bruce Dickinson’s style, the guitars sound lifted from “Run to the Hills,” even the drums come in like an Iron Maiden song. If you snuck this onto an Iron Maiden Greatest Hits collection, no one would bat an eye to never having heard it before. And while I am by no means an Iron Maiden fan (I happen to think Bruce Dickinson is a bit of a chode), this song done in their style is a head-banging, tweeter-blowing jam. And finally, because no ‘80s band demo would be complete without one, the final track is a power ballad – “Wet Spot.” It starts with a delicate dual between classical flamenco guitars, and besides being packed from front to back with the kind of cheeseball lyrics you’d expect from such an outing, it fits the song, the album, and wraps it well in a shiny Spandex bow.

It’s a shame that this band’s entire history is whittled down to only four tracks, because I’m honestly dying for more. I listen to so much terrible music as an album reviewer, and to find something I enjoy and to have so little of it… it’s a crime. It’s undoubtedly a crime. That Waxwing came and went with barely a blip on an already crowded radar is a crime. But that’s what music is. For all of our top tier and second tier, and on and on down the line-tier bands, with household names and songs we know every word to, for every one of those bands is a hundred or more bands that made just as excellent (if not better!) music that we will never, ever know about. This is the kind of thing that keeps me up at night.

For Powerman5000, we lost Union Underground, Jimmy’s Chicken Shack, and 187. For Sublime, we lost The Gits, Schleprock, and Tad. For Hatebreed, we lost Hemlock, Propain, and Dog Fashon Disco. So many great bands making such incredible music that, for whatever reason, never managed to capture their place in that moment in time, and now primarily exist in reissues, reunions, and articles about what could have been. For Waxwing, their failure seems to be their own, but it certainly wasn’t for the lack of a killer pre-course appetizer. So, we raise our horns to you, Waxwing. I’d offer a salute in maxxx hold hairspray but the time since 1994 has left this cranium a bald and barren wasteland.

It was a great album, guys. We should’ve got more.