Hear ‘n Aid: Two Days In 1985 When The Metal Gods Stopped Thinking About Coke
Image credit Joe Daly 2023
In the gaudy year of 1985, as fluorescent fashion roared and neon dreams crashed into Cold War nightmares, the world of pop music birthed a monstrous, fifty-headed mutant called USA for Africa. Its creators? A high-flying gaggle of mansion-dwelling pop stars led by the ultra-sketchy King of Pop, Michael Jackson and the coolest guy in every room that he occupies, Mr. Lionel Richie. Their mission was simple: use their combined celebrity power to drum up some much-needed humanitarian aid for the people of Africa. And good, sweet Odin, did it work. They recorded We Are The World and dedicated all profits to the cause. It became the fastest-selling American pop single in history, went quadruple platinum and generated tens of millions of bucks for the people of Africa. It was a flashpoint in cultural history.
In the wicked circus of life, some authentically noble ideas are actually just bad acid trips dragged into the searing sunlight of reality. Enter Hear ‘n Aid, the 80s metal community’s valiant stab at charity — a ramshackle crew of bawdy, hirsute headbangers trying to mimic their sonorous pop music counterparts. Like bats aiming to be doves, they swooped into the studio, all leather and ego, seeming to collectively wonder, “Just how hard can this charity shit be?”
Amidst the dust of Bob Geldof and Midge Ure's global, mic-dropping Band Aid spectacle — a righteous quest for African famine relief — Vivian Campbell and Jimmy Bain, members of Ronnie James Dio’s band, cornered their fearless leader and pitched a mad crusade — a loud, clanging salute from the bowels of the heavy fucking metal, echoing the altruism of the preening pop singers but with more leather, sweat and electrified rage. It all went down on May 20-21, 1985 in Los Angeles - the very belly of the beast. The offspring of this unholy union would be Stars, a slamming, 7-minute track with 38 singers, nine face-melting guitar solos and enough hairspray to treat the ozone layer like a tornado treats a trailer park. With three entire minutes reserved for the guitar solos, Stars was either an auditory blessing or a reckless, coke-fueled attempt to put the laws of thermodynamics to the ultimate test by harnessing the power of nearly forty of the biggest egos in human history and sticking them in the same recording studio for two days, just to see what happens.
A jaded observer might well point out that a room full of famous metalheads yelling "We’re stars!!!" smacks vaguely of insecurity but with Dio at the helm, you at least knew that quality control would not be sacrificed. The truth is that he took it deeply personally that heavy metal — very much a dominant commercial force in 1985 — was entirely snubbed by those pious pricks over at USA for Africa. And in vintage Dio fashion, he was going to make them pay dearly for their very public slight. In the new Dio documentary — DIO: Dreamers Never Die — there’s a scene where Judas Priest frontman Rob Halford finishes a vocal take and Dio says quietly, “You can do better.” To the goddamned Metal God, he says this! Sure enough, Halford’s next take is straight fire.
Not everybody escaped the process unscathed. When Don Dokken finishes one of his vocal takes — he admits that he was “scared shitless,” Dio dryly replies, “Does ‘Dokken’ really rhyme with ‘Rockin’?’ I’m confused...”
Image credit Joe Daly 2023
Some personnel decisions were stranger than others. Take, for example, the inclusion of Spinal Tap, those massively-gifted improvisational virtuosos behind This Is Spinal Tap. Perhaps it was a quest for a bit of irony or maybe just a bit to play on the film’s celebrity? And Neal Schon of Journey, maybe looking for a bit of payback after his bandmate Steve Perry scored an invite to jam with the big boys for We Are The World.
In the echo chambers of recording studios, where everything sounds like a good idea after six beers, "Hear N' Aid" roared to life. But few things can arrest seemingly unstoppable momentum like “contractual issues.” The birth of this metal beast was delayed straight out of the gate, and as every band member knows, timing is everything. It had less to do with the artists and more to do with the bloodlust-driven corporate parasites, viewing every possible dollar of revenue with the steely obsession of a starving hyena stumbling upon a fresh kill. Finally released in January, 1986, after months of Dio’s tireless negotiations with labels and managers, Stars simply couldn't capture the same Zeitgeist. In the mid-80s, rock and metal enjoyed a historic — and unfortunately fleeting — amount of mainstream radio exposure but not even the biggest bands of the day could compete with the artists dominating the pop stations. Unsurprisingly, therefore, it did not go quadruple platinum and it did not generate tens of millions of dollars. But it did raise a cool million — a legitimate accomplishment — which was allocated to a number of charities badly in need of the help.
As much as the egos, images and the very nature of the project begs for a gentle lampooning, Hear ‘n Aid was raw, honest and genuine endeavor that delivered a single that boasts more than a few legitimately thrilling moments. And credit is due to Dio and to every artist who lent their talents to the track. Ultimately, even if it didn't have the smooth, polished production or the star-studded glam of its pop counterpart, Hear N’ Aid was about heart, soul and the enduring power of the riff. Sadly, the release remains limited — cassette and vinyl only for the original release, followed by a CD release in 1994. But we can enjoy Stars in all its glory on YouTube, along with some hellaciously entertaining documentaries about this iconic moment in hard rock history where the metal community revealed, for two days anyway, that beneath the loud riffs and louder personalities, they had hearts of gold.