When Gilmore Girls and Glam Metal Collided In My Head
I’m still knee-deep in mid-80s madness, and today’s detour down the eyeliner-lined alley of glam metal is brought to you by none other than Skid Row.
Now, this whole genre tourism thing has already messed with my sense of reality once—first when I realised Bret Michaels from Rock of Love wasn’t just some eyelinered delusion in a hot tub, but actually the lead singer of Poison. That was jarring enough.
And now? Turns out Sebastian Bach, the soaring, screaming frontman of Skid Row, has also been living rent-free in my TV memory for years.
Because yes—Sebastian Bach is Gil.
Gil, the over-the-top, lovable guitarist from Gilmore Girls. The one I adored without knowing he used to headline stadium tours and melt faces with his voice and his hair.
So diving into Skid Row felt weirdly personal. It was like finding out your childhood dentist used to front Mötley Crüe. I’d already emotionally invested in this man jamming in Stars Hollow. Now he was about to emotionally destroy me from a 1991 concert stage.
From Wedding Singer to Glam Frontman
Skid Row was formed in 1986 in New Jersey by Rachel Bolan (bass) and Dave "The Snake" Sabo (guitar). Rob Affuso joined on drums shortly after. Finding the right vocalist, though? That was a journey.
First, they tried Matt Fallon (formerly of Anthrax), who bailed. Then, in a moment that feels suspiciously scripted, 18-year-old Sebastian Bach was spotted singing at a wedding. Someone in the crowd saw him and thought, "that man belongs in a band where everything explodes." He auditioned, nailed it, and by 1987, Bach was front and centre: tall, gorgeous, a little unhinged, and ready to make glam metal just a little angrier.
Power Ballads, Platinum, and Pouting
Skid Row had a bit of a slow start, but their debut album—Skid Row (1989)—picked up speed fast, thanks in part to opening for Bon Jovi and Aerosmith. As one does. Eventually, the album went 5x Platinum in the US, with heavy rotation on MTV and radio stations that clearly weren’t ready for Sebastian Bach but played him anyway.
Musically, Skid Row had that glam metal gloss—but it was a little grittier, a little less eyeliner, and just enough edge to separate them from the more feathered-and-fragrant bands of the scene. Think glam, but with a cigarette burn on its leather jacket.
Slave to the Grind: The Angrier, Heavier, Better One
Then came Slave to the Grind (1991), which turned everything up a notch. Heavier riffs, more shouting, and a sound that flirted with thrash and hardcore without fully committing. I hit play on Monkey Business and immediately thought: Oh, this man thinks he’s Axl Rose. And he’s not wrong.
The album was a success—#1 on the Billboard charts, double Platinum, and genuinely good. They toured with Guns N’ Roses, Soundgarden, and even Pantera in the early ‘90s. For a brief moment, it felt like Skid Row had hacked the system—cool enough for the grunge crowd, but still glam enough to keep the hair metal faithful happy.
I listened to the full album a few times, and yes: this one is my favourite. It’s on the playlist. Several times. It even gave me the required power ballad moment with In a Darkened Room, which features a dramatic break at 2:30 and a vocal performance that can only be described as "look at me, I’m having feelings on stage."
And I’ll be honest—I was also having a minor crisis about how illegally attractive this man was in 1991.
Enter: The Ego Implosion
Of course, nothing gold can stay—especially not when your frontman loves himself just a little too loudly. Bach’s personality, charm, and ability to hit ridiculous high notes made him the perfect frontman. His ego made him everyone’s problem.
Their third album, Subhuman Race (1995), was a mess. The band couldn’t get along with their new producer Bob Rock (a man who already survived working with Metallica, so that says something). The sound shifted into darker territory: grunge, alternative, punk, even a bit of thrash. It tried to be everything and ended up as none of those things. Sales were disappointing, critics weren’t kind, and the band refused to play most of it live ever again. Big yikes.
By 1996, after one argument too many, Bach was out.
Post-Bach Purgatory (aka: Who Are We Now?)
After Bach was fired, he went solo, showed up on reality TV, and did a stint on Broadway because why not. Meanwhile, Skid Row recruited Johnny Solinger in 1999. He was good. Respectable. Solid voice. But the energy wasn’t the same—and fans noticed.
Solinger stayed for 15 years. He recorded two studio albums with the band, and I listened to the first one—Thickskin (2003)—without reading up on it first. When the song Ghost started playing, my brain went: “Oh. This sounds like Creed.”
I mean that sincerely. It’s not an insult. Just—unexpected. As someone raised on Creed, Lifehouse, Silverchair, and whatever sad-rock post-grunge nonsense was pumping through my teenage years, it felt familiar. It just didn’t feel like Skid Row.
And unsurprisingly, the die-hard fans hated it.
Everyone’s a Frontman, Eventually
After that, it just—spiralled.
Their fifth studio album, Revolutions per Minute (2006), leaned more into punk with weird touches of country, because apparently someone lost a bet.
They gave up on albums and released two EPs instead:
United World Rebellion: Chapter 1 (2013) and
Rise of the Damnation Army – Chapter 2 (2014).
The sound was heavier again—closer to the early stuff—but even then, it was a patchwork. Some tracks felt like old-school Skid Row (Kings of Demolition), others were clearly coming from a different place (This Is Killing Me). Solinger was doing his best, but he was still standing in Bach’s very tight, very dramatic shadow.
Chapter 3 was scheduled for 2015. Instead, Solinger was fired.
He passed away in 2021, at age 55, from liver failure.
And Now?
After Solinger, Tony Harnell came and went in under six months. In 2017, the band brought in ZP Theart, formerly of DragonForce. Which is—a choice. A speed/power metal vocalist joining glam/grunge/punk survivors? I don’t know what that’s going to sound like, but I’m very curious.
The long-promised Chapter 3 is now supposed to be a full-length album. New frontman. New era. New question marks.
Will it sound like Slave to the Grind?
Will it sound like DragonForce in denial?
Will it sound like Creed again?
Who knows. But I’ll be listening.