The contrast between these two versions couldn't be more yin and yang. Chris Isaak, replete with eerie guitar riffs, haunting vocals, and a mellow pace, carved out a worthy niche for himself with this early 90s rock classic. Like sipping a nice scotch, his song is smooth, yet jilting. Always appropriate for a week-in-review wind-down on a chilly autumnal Sunday.
Scandinavian hard-rock maestros, H.I.M(His Infernal Majesty), were inspired by Isaak's ingredients for smooth and creepy, and reshaped the song with a serious injection of anger and excitement. It was during a particularly hard-hitting spin class back Atlanta when the werewolf first heard this song. It has forever been branded one of the great adrenaline inducing songs to load onto your iPod for an effective visit to the gym. Almost disqualified from any recreational listening on this account, H.I.M. gets massive credit for boldly taking a classic and moving into a an entirely new sphere of existence.
What I Watched -- Birthmarked amd Too Late
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