Album Reviews

[Kristy]

I guess you're right. Wouldn't be homoerotic enough for you.

[Von Halen]

I guess you're right. Wouldn't be homoerotic enough for you.

She was married to Russell Brand. She needs to be fumigated.

[Kristy]

So...what are you trying to tell me here? That Russell Brand doesn't fly on your homoerotic radar?

[Von Halen]

So...what are you trying to tell me here? That Russell Brand doesn't fly on your homoerotic radar?

Exactly. I hate him.

But you fly on my homoerotic radar. Are you picking me up at the airport, or what?

[Seshmeister]

Well, when it comes to anything "hip" your generation knows way more about it than me.

You're in Binnie's generation!

And stop messing up the review thread.

[Kristy]

Blow me. I'll review his reviews for how white and contrived they are.

[Seshmeister]

It's an open thread you could add some brown reviews.

[binnie]

From the Vaults (sort of): Europe – Bag of Bones (2012)

It’s fair to say that Europe have never been cool. It’s also fair to say that the song for which they’re famous is entirely a-typical of their catalogue. Indeed, ‘Sweden’s Answer To Bon Jovi’ were really nothing of the sort: they were always more of a hard rock band than Jersey Jon ever wanted to be. So it’s not really any surprise that ‘Bag Of Bones’ is heavier than the casual observer might expect. But even people more familiar with the band’s back catalogue may be surprised at just how good this greasy little album is.

Joey Tempest’s pipes have certainly aged better than most of his generation: there is no rectum-straining screeching or Vince Neil missing the words here. Tempest sings his balls off on every tune and is, as always, the star of the show. John Norum’s voodoo riffs are catchy and enticing, and he shreds away like he has a couple of extra fingers on each hand. Opener ‘Riches To Rags’ has a swampy groove and a chorus that kills; the title track is a clarion call screaming in the face of Father Time and is far more urgent than anything most of their peers can muster; and on ‘Not Supposed To Sing The Blues’ you truly get a sense of how much this band loves music (a rare example of how clichés aid emotion, rather than stunt it). In the hands of producer Kevin Shirely, the band also avoid most of the typical ‘old rock band’ pitfalls: the songs are never over-long, and the band never sell themselves are a bunch of 50-year old party boys (hello Nikki Sixx and co.)

‘Bag of Bones’ is not cheesy, but it certainly errs on the ‘nicer’ end of rock ‘n’ roll (it’s even a little sentimental in places). There are no tales of fuckin’ groopies until they have anal gape here, and if you need your hard rock spiced with aggression and danger, this album isn’t for you. But if want some feel good tunes to give your day a kick in the ass, you’ll do much worse than looking here.

[binnie]

It doesn't get much 'whiter' than that

[Kristy]

...or stale.

Europe? How old are you, Binnie? 90?

[binnie]

The Answer – Raise A Little Hell (2015)

When Ireland’s The Answer first hit the scene some 10 years ago, they were hailed as the future of heavy rock. That they never fulfilled that promise has become something of an albatross around the band’s neck. ‘Raise A Little Hell’ will do little to remove it. What we have here is a very, very good hard rock record – perhaps the best record The Answer have made – which should be enjoyed by all who hear it. But what stops The Answer hitting the big leagues is, quite simply, a sense of existing on the edge which lives at the heart of all great rock music. Ireland’s finest have that quality in spades as a live band – and WHAT a live band! – but it just doesn’t ooze from them in the studio.

But being the best band in the world is a helluva mantle to live up to and focussing on it distracts from the fact that ‘Raise A Little Hell’ is a damn fine record which will become a very good friend when the sun shines this summer. Continuing the strip back their sound to its nuts and bolts – as they did last time round on ‘New Horizon’ (2013) – this is an album which makes a virtue out of simplicity by creating the space for performances to shine. ‘Long Live The Renegades’ is built around a very simple guitar and bass riff and will be incendiary live; ‘Aristocratic’ introduces a cheeky side to the band we’ve not seen before; and ‘The Other Side’ shows them at their most melodic, and it suits them. With the gusto on display here, even the lesser tunes are captivating, and missteps like ‘Last Days Of Summer’ and ‘Gone Too Long’ are forgiveable rather than irritating.

Album no. 5 may be The Answer’s best collection of songs, and its simple and direct approach make much of what is on offer here catchier than the clap. Where previously this band had overthought and overcooked their material, here they sound like they’re enjoying themselves and that ultimately means that the listener enjoys them more, too.

[binnie]

California Breed – California Breed (2014)

California Breed are essentially Black Country Communion minus Joe Bonamassa. Jason Bonham and Glenn Hughes have re-formed with axeman Andrew Wait, whose performance here serves to prove that his is a sensationally gifted as Hughes claims he is – the guitars on this record are a screaming orgasm of electric blues. Rawer that BCC ever were, this album has an irresistibly instinctive, live feel to it, made all the power potent by the fact that the songs here are still fresh enough to still have the uncontrollable energy of the jams from which they emerged in them: the thrill of the first kiss, so to speak.

‘The Way’ kicks things off with bounce and pop, the passionate funk rock that Hughes does better than anybody. ‘Sweat Tea’ is more memorable than anything BCC ever did, whilst ‘Invisible’ and ‘Scars’ combines hits you in the guts, heart and ass. ‘Chemical Rain’ has the bittersweet beauty which only a song about addiction can, and although the subject is tired, Wait’s sky-kissed guitar injects it with life. But perhaps best of all is ‘Strong’, which has a trippy ‘60s vibe and sounds the way which you imagine the Red Hot Chili Peppers would like to sound: a hypnotic swirl of funkadelia.

This is an album saturated with a filthy, filthy feel, the pure joy of music performed on the edge and in the moment. Hughes’s voice has always been underrated, and on the likes of ‘Midnight Oil’ – which drips with emotion – you just cannot fathom why. But perhaps the best thing about California Breed is that this is not just a bunch of (predominantly) older dudes looking back to the good ol’ dayz. The DNA may be the 1970s, but the performance, the ambition, the stylings are irresistibly modern. And it never feels forced, only natural.

[binnie]

Prong – Ruining Lives (2014)

Terms like ‘one-off’, ‘unique’ or ‘owning their sound’ are overused in music, but when it comes to Prong they don’t really do things justice. Put simply, no-one has ever sounded like this band’s Frankenstein brand of punk-metal-crust, a sound that is both irresistibly idiosyncratic and absolutely infectious. It’s also true to say that over the course of a 25 year career, this is a band which has made very few missteps and has a high quality control. So you’d expect ‘Ruining Lives’ to be good. But you’d never expect it to be THIS good.

Opener ‘Turnover’ is one of the best songs this band has ever penned, a scabrous blast of music which would strip paint at 100 yards. The title track is the sound of a tectonic plate slipping and is unimaginably dystopian, and ‘Windows Shut’ taps straight back into the bands industrial roots: Prong here sound like a steroid-injected Killing Joke. Tommy Vitor’s vocals are on fire, and the band feels positively feral. This is a record full of tunes which are very heavy, very abrasive, but never less than captivatingly accessible. ‘Absence of Light’ and ‘Remove, Separate Self’ manage to weld together the ball-shatteringly heavy with the irresistibly melodic. That is no mean feat.

Prong here have served up a killer. In years to come we may even speak of it as a modern classic.

[binnie]

Diablo Blvd – Follow the Deadlights (2015)

With a sound that embraces elements of stoner and goth in the arms of mainstream metal, Belgium’s Diablo Blvd are an odd proposition. They’re also rather good. Third album ‘Follow The Deadlights’ is not a million miles away from Alter Bridge or Godsmack in being deceptively heavy music dressed up in pop sensibilities, with hooks-a-plenty and slab after slab of crunchy riffage to sink your teeth in to. ‘Beyond The Veil’ is dark, bass-driven rock song, the title-track is a twisted take on early Stone Temple Pilots and ‘Peace Won By War’ is just fuckin’ metal. Sure, there’s more than the odd clunker along the way, and the cod the Satanism is more than a little bit tired. But in the hands of vocalist Alex Ayrew – whose Scott Strap-esque baritone croon takes everything a notch up – this is a band with some potential. Maybe they’ll be contenders in the near future: for now it is time to simply press play and bang your head.

[Kristy]

Alex Ayrew - is that his porn name?