Michael Monroe – Sensory Overdrive
With a band featuring Steve Conte (New York Dolls), Sami Yaffa (Hanoi Rocks) and Ginger (The Wildhearts), this was always going to be cooler than John Travolta’s favourite dancing shoes. And cool it is. An arsenal of Ginger-penned songs sparkle with pop-rock genius. Uncluttered with ego and frills, the ingredients are few and perfectly balanced: fuck-off riffs, silky choruses and performances which sizzle and crackle with all the fire of ageing desperadoes kicking the crap out of the last chance saloon. Jack Douglas’s raw production plays to the power of that simplicity, and he’s extracted the best vocal performance from Monroe since Hanoi’s glory days – THAT voice is punkier, raspier in its tones, with Monroe barking the lyrics and eschewing the more effeminate end of his delivery. ‘Got Blood’ is a furious rock ‘n’ roller cooked in eternal piss ‘n’ vinegar; ‘Later Won’t Wait’ is Cheap Trick in a bar brawl; and ‘78’ has an old-skool punk bite which only guys who couldn’t give a flying fuck whether you take ‘em or leave ‘em could pull off. But it’s the opening and closing tracks which really kill: ‘Trick of the Wrist’ – with its bulldozer bass and slippery chorus – is the grizzly swansong of an ageing rock God; and mixing Lemmy with Monroe on ‘Debauchery on a Fine Art’ is like tattooing BADASS on your forehead and breaking anyone who gets in your way. You’ll not here a more fun record this year.
With a band featuring Steve Conte (New York Dolls), Sami Yaffa (Hanoi Rocks) and Ginger (The Wildhearts), this was always going to be cooler than John Travolta’s favourite dancing shoes. And cool it is. An arsenal of Ginger-penned songs sparkle with pop-rock genius. Uncluttered with ego and frills, the ingredients are few and perfectly balanced: fuck-off riffs, silky choruses and performances which sizzle and crackle with all the fire of ageing desperadoes kicking the crap out of the last chance saloon. Jack Douglas’s raw production plays to the power of that simplicity, and he’s extracted the best vocal performance from Monroe since Hanoi’s glory days – THAT voice is punkier, raspier in its tones, with Monroe barking the lyrics and eschewing the more effeminate end of his delivery. ‘Got Blood’ is a furious rock ‘n’ roller cooked in eternal piss ‘n’ vinegar; ‘Later Won’t Wait’ is Cheap Trick in a bar brawl; and ‘78’ has an old-skool punk bite which only guys who couldn’t give a flying fuck whether you take ‘em or leave ‘em could pull off. But it’s the opening and closing tracks which really kill: ‘Trick of the Wrist’ – with its bulldozer bass and slippery chorus – is the grizzly swansong of an ageing rock God; and mixing Lemmy with Monroe on ‘Debauchery on a Fine Art’ is like tattooing BADASS on your forehead and breaking anyone who gets in your way. You’ll not here a more fun record this year.
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