Record Label: Ironclad Recordings
Genre: Metal
Band Link: link
Buy on Amazon.com link

The Destro play basic chunka-chunka metal with some throaty screaming, and umm.. well, they are so mediocre and unremarkable that I’m having trouble describing them without being as boring as their music.

So I guess I’ll talk about myself, a topic I can never get tired of. So when I was 10 I discovered my father’s porno video collection buried under some sweaters in my parents’ bedroom dresser. Over the next few weeks, I kept pretending to be sick so I could stay home and watch them.

Being young, I didn’t really understand the psychological and social differences between guys and girls, and I thought having access to these tapes would be seen as studly. So one day I called my only female friend Lisa. I had a crush on her, and thought she had a crush on me because she was friends with me, but in actuality she was just taking pity on me. Anyway, the conversation, embarrassingly, went something like this:

“Hi Lisa. I was wondering, do you want to stay home from school tomorrow?”

“Umm.. no.”

“Cmon, you should stay home and hang out with me.”

“Uhh… that’s okay. I don’t want to miss school.”

“Listen Lisa.. you can’t tell anyone, but… (voice lowers to a whisper).. I have pornos!!”

“Excuse me?”

“I have pornos!!”

“Adam, I have to go. Dinner’s on the table.”

“Wait! Lisa, didn’t you hear me? We could watch the pornos together!!”

“I have to go.” And she hung up.

That night, my mother called me into the living room.

“Adam, two things. First, I don’t go into your room and go through your things. So you wouldn’t do that to your father and me, right?”

My throat constricted and I turned ice cold. I barely eked out an affirmative response.

My mom continued: “Second, I had to talk one of your friend’s mothers out of suing me because you were harrassing her 10-year-old daughter and saying disgusting things. Do I need to repeat them?”

I felt dizzy and sick. “No…” I whispered.

Unfortunately, this went on for awhile longer, but I’ll spare the details. My mom never came right out and put my shame in the open, but hinted at it until I felt like I was going to pass out. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, except for when my mom caught me masturbating, but that’s a story for another review of a boring band.

I never talked to Lisa again, even though she and her friends would glance at me across the classroom and laugh. My attitude toward women have been damaged since.

And the wounds of shame have never healed.

Bottom Line: Negligible, inconsequential metal. A minor trifle.
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