A giant door swings open, and a 350-pound hulk of steer-beef swathed in a cloud of smoke appears. It’s on! Rassle!
These are the images I have to banish from consciousness when dealing with this latest LP from ¾ of Creed hooked up with Slash’s singer, a band whose fame has mostly come from WWE intro songs, for rasslin’. This just came in today, deadline day, and I’d love to make more WWE jokes to fill this space and just run off to watch the World Series, but since they did go to the trouble of writing a generous 16 songs and there are, seriously, a few people reading this who actually like this stuff, I’ll go on record as saying that it’s not completely unbearable for a half-cocked crock of nu-hard-rock. You know the deal — for the most part it’s overproduced, often too poppy claptrap — it’s like listening to a musical about two suburban teens arguing over whether Whitesnake is better than Slipknot. I mean, there are seriously times when this record appears set to break into a chorus of Heart’s “Alone” just to put a little spice into the obligato ballad. I dunno, maybe I’ll crank it again right now while watching the Giants beat the tar out of Texas — anything’s better than listening to Joe Buck’s stupid babbling. B — E.W.S.