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Rating: My name is Salàd. Well, I’ll say straight away that I'm not in the best of positions. Even my ID card seems to know more about me than I do. It confidently calls me a 'freelancer'. I’m not so clear on how to present myself. I’d like to call myself a superhero. Exactly. A superhero. Above all, I’d like people to consider me as one.
Am I out there? There's a good chance.
These are ideas planted in my head by my creator a long time ago, envisaged as a character to fatten up the ranks of the good guys (damn him), and to that end, he equipped me with a superpower. Yep, a superpower. I can make lettuce materialize from nowhere into the backside of any enemy before me. No matter how powerful they are, I just have to want it, and what I said happens. I'm deadlier than a cobra. The superhero fixation led me to consider going around with the S of Salàd on my chest. Fortunately, for once, I was able to recognize a nonsense among the many that pass through my head. That S would have created confusion and expectations... frankly, I think I'm tougher than the guy who became famous with an S on his chest, but the world cares more about image... and I only leave behind lettuce-stuffed butts... oh well, I'm not gonna drag this out, it's clear I'm a frustrated loser.
In the toughest down moments, I find a hand on my shoulder listening to an old rock album centered on the life and mind games of Peter Parker. If someone asked me where something like this comes from, it would put me in difficulty. It's from 1975, and it doesn't take Jessica Fletcher to guess that back then, Marvel had the idea of making money with a Spidey musical. She never had a problem investing in him. As for me, she left me to my fate in tatters without having me appear in a single comic strip.
But at least I can't be envious of Parker, and I relate a bit to his words when I hear him singing about problems, feelings, and frustrations of living a superhero life, and I also like to hear the reassuring voice of Stan Lee between songs as the narrator; it soothes my mind a bit. They are sensations that grant me some relief from my miserable life. I am tempted to call it a 'rock opera', after all, it has all the elements to do so, but there is also a history of rock operas that must be respected, and using that definition in this case would give the album an importance it doesn’t have. The music is thanks to a group of authors including the guitarist from an American prog-rock band, Crack the Sky (John Palumbo), and a singer and producer of radio jingles (Marty Nelson). It's a bit stale. Vocals, choirs, guitars, and sounds reveal a lot about the period the album was made, personally, this doesn't bother me; I find the music very enjoyable. There’s a good variety of genres: there’s rock à la 'Time Warp' (High Wire), melodic folk rock (Peter Stays And Spider-Man Goes), reggae hints (New Point Of View), pure hard rock (Spider Man), funk rock (No One's Got A Crush On Peter), musical choirs (Dr. Octopus). This stuff in my ears and John Romita's artwork in my eyes manage to guarantee me a few minutes of detachment from the world, then I go back to being Salàd.
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