Love Quote by Adam Rich

The sentence stumbles and circles itself the way a band member does when he’s trying to be honest without handing critics an easy headline. Rich’s intent is straightforward: frame the project as a love letter to hard rock, not a cynical genre grab. But the more interesting move is the hedging. “Sort of Metal” is offered as a concession to how the record might sound in the room, while “we don’t really describe ourselves as Metal” is a preemptive defense against the baggage that label carries.

That tension is the subtext: genre isn’t just a sonic description, it’s a social contract. “Metal” comes with expectations about image, scene credibility, and a particular kind of seriousness. By keeping one foot outside the category, Rich protects the band’s flexibility: they can borrow the volume, the riffs, the aggression, without committing to the identity politics that sometimes police who gets to be “real” metal.

There’s also an actor’s instinct here, which matters contextually. Performers understand branding, typecasting, and how quickly an audience can mistake a role for a person. The quote reads like someone resisting being cast. He wants the record to be heard as affection and craft, not as a costume change.

What makes it work is its messy candor. The repetition and qualifiers signal negotiation in real time: between personal taste and public perception, between what the music is and what the marketplace will call it. In an era where playlists flatten everything into micro-genres, that small refusal feels like a bid for authorship.