Pat Boone, In a A Metal Mood, No More Mr. Nice Guy

We warned you. Little over a year ago, in these very pages, singer Pat Boone, in the midst of a promotional campaign following the release of a compilation video and enjoying an improbable moment of cooldom, casually broke the news of plans for a new record, “something really different, unexpected.” Then he talked about an album of heavy metal classics arranged for a big band.
Now, Mr. Boone is an upstanding citizen with a sense of humor, the idea was hilarious, everybody got a good chuckle and we all moved on.

He was not joking.

Here is Pat Boone In A Metal Mood. No More Mr. Nice Guy.

It is a pop artifact for the ages. Any fool can make a bad record, this is brilliantly bad. “Smoke On The Water” with a Latin groove? Boone doing David Lee Roth-does-the-Holiday Inn turn in “Panama”? “Enter Sandman” as a cheery, swinging romp? “Stairway to Heaven” as a jazz waltz? Oh, baby.
Matching the King of Square, the Prince of Bland, the Minister of Safe with, say, the working class muscle-and-spit fury of Metallica has to be the most perverse notion since, oh I dunno, someone trusted a Miami politician with a public contract or asked Madonna to sing a melody.
Now, for those out there who chuckle behind dad’s back when he talks about Woodstock, two words: just wait. We thought we were safely cool too. No one could Perry Como our music. We were wrong on this one too. But hey, don’t fret, maybe Boone will find time to do Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, and The Smashing Pumpkins. Go, Pat!


This story appeared in the Miami Herald, October, 1997

Fernando González