To my mom, Elizabeth Beaujour (I’ve owed you a return dedication since 1989); my wife, Maria McKenna, who can’t remember our wedding vows including anything about “listening to Hair Nation every time we get in the fucking car”; Elvis the puggle; Dino the chug (look it up … it’s a thing); and lest we forget, Nigel Tufnel, the cat.

—TOM BEAUJOUR

To my wife, Carla Fredericks, for her unconditional and very-much-appreciated love, support, and advice—as well as her infinite patience, which was no doubt pushed to the limit over several years and across numerous continents while researching and writing this book.

To my son Levi, who reminds me every day of the pure, indefinable joy that results from a kick-ass riff hitting a young heart.

And to my parents, Gary and Leslie, and my brother, Hal, for always supporting (tolerating?) my musical obsessions … even when they came paired with an unfortunate mullet.

—RICHARD BIENSTOCK