Sunday Music: "Children In Heat" By The Misfits

The number one rule for finding new music that has staying power is: find the music the kids love that their parents hate.

If the parents think it’s dangerous? Great. Too risky or too risqué? Even better. If they declare it’s “not even music” or ruining something (I mean, anything declared as being ruined by it - that’s the sign)? It’s going to be amazing.

“Children In Heat” by The Misfits is a mess of poppy sounds played a little too fast. You can hear the classic rock and Danzig’s goth-Elvis swoon. And you can hear it moving like a roller coaster car that’s barely touching the tracks anymore.

The words are easy to shout along too but hard to sing well. That’s before you even mention the playful vulgarity of some of the lines. The “He-ee-eat” is nothing shy of operatic.

None of this is what you’d want to hear coming out of your teenagers room (if you are/were a parent). You’d scratch your head, because that is the responsible reaction. You don’t want to think about your kid in heat.

And if your kid has a Crimson Ghost mask, or hoodie, or starts wearing skeleton gloves - you can hope it’s a phase, but it’s probably a sign of them finding a sense of identity that will be with them for a long (long) time.

However, deep within that rocking reckless abandon, from comparing children in heat to kindling wood, to the sex and - if it’s not pee, get it looked at, please - that makes the song so intoxicating. Or maybe the song is just intoxicated. Either way, it’s obviously out of control.

And when music can capture this level of singalong catchiness AND social construct challenging threats - this is the kind of music that just can’t die.

The Misfits have an entire catalogue of it. Every October when I dive in for a while, I remember it. They were never big enough to be a mainstream threat, and sure, some of their lyrics are, shall we say, problematic, now, but they are the sound of scaring the elders.

Like a great Halloween costume.

Be a crazy kid with me and put this on. Be on the scary side of the mask. There’s great power in not fitting in for a recognizable reason, you know: