I was born and raised a child of pop music.

I bought the “We Are The World” album the day it was released and happily filed it between Bruce Springsteen’s “Born In The USA” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”

I listened to whatever Casey Kasem told me was popular and whatever seemed to pop up on “Nick Rocks” or “Friday Night Videos.”

As I grew older, MTV and popular radio turned me on to something totally new — rap music. Run DMC and the Beasties guided me through junior high.

All of this time I never once opened my ears to music I couldn’t hear on Top 40 radio or see on MTV. I resented country, jazz and blues and most of all — I resented heavy metal.

I truly believed you had to be a heroin addict, tattooed, Harley rider to listen to heavy metal. Just the names of bands like Slayer and Metallica scared me.

But this resentment would not last long.

My freshman year of high school, some guys on the football team started playing Metallica’s black album in the locker room.

I was shrugging off the noise until a song called “Enter Sandman” came on. It was amazing. For the first time in my life I actually got a rush of adrenaline from music.

Apparently, I was not the only one on the team who ravished energy from the song. By the end of the season, “Enter Sandman” had become the team’s unofficial theme song.

Although it felt awkward, I bought the record. I listened to it every now and then, but it never really felt right.

At the same time, grunge bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam were becoming mainstream and it was now cool for urban brats to bang their heads.

So there I was a year later — a wannabe grunger swinging my wallet chain to commercial metal, jumping into mosh pits like they were swimming pools.

And then it happened. I accidentally stumbled upon the song “Killing In The Name” by Rage Against The Machine in the car of classmate of mine.

It was the meanest music I had ever heard, but it was also the most meaningful.

It brought out feelings I had never experienced before.

It brought out rage.

“Killing In The Name” would guide me through high school.

I was listening to Rage the first time I got in a fight, the first time I got in a car accident and the first time I suited up for a varsity football game.

I was listening to Rage in the car on the way to my aunt’s funeral, the night my long-time girlfriend broke up with me and the last time I suited up for a varsity football game.

Rage has shared more emotion with me than any person could ever imagine — and all of the time I never once shot up heroin, got a tattoo or rode a Harley.

Angst rock, whether you call it metal, thrash or hardcore, is as revolutionary to music as psychotherapy is to the practice of medicine.

And for some strange reason, I can picture myself at the age of 40, throwing in a Korn CD and letting out some aggression.

This week, the Daily Arts & Entertainment section is running a series of features on what we have commercially dubbed the Hardcore Happy Hour.

Tuesday and Friday features will be on Limp Bizkit and the Deftones, two up-and-coming hardcore acts who have redefined angst metal by grinding it with hip-hop grooves and turntable wizardry.

On Wednesday, Daily Gwar guru Ben Jones will present his list of the top 10 heavy metal albums of all time, while I advise readers on 10 new hardcore albums not to pass up.

And finally, we will take a look at hardcore music in Ames with a feature on the much talked about local band 35″ Mudder.

Deftones, Limp Bizkit and 35″ Mudder will be playing “Mancow’s Jingle Ball” together next Sunday at Supertoad in Des Moines.

The show sold out in 20 minutes if that is any indication of how powerful angst rock is. Anyway, enjoy Hardcore Happy Hour (with or without the heroin).

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Corey Moss is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Urbandale.