I HAVE a close friend with musical tastes that don’t so much match my own as overlap with them.
We both like AC/DC, Rose Tattoo, Airbourne. He thinks the Darkness are a joke. I think the Allman Brothers are boring. He likes Roth, I like Hagar.
But something he once said to me has stuck in my mind – and it applies to this, the third release from Sweden’s Crazy Lixx.
“Remember when new releases used to be exciting?” he said to me as we listened to last Chickenfoot album.
That sentence actually means more than the sum of its parts. He was referring to a time when everything – the cover art, the band’s hairstyles, the crunching opening riffs and the physical touch of the vinyl combined to set the blood racing. It was something you couldn’t completely rationalise. The closest phenomenon to it is the way a little kid feels about a toy that adults see only as a hunk of moulded plastic.
Even though my mate doesn’t actually like Chickenfoot, he realises the supergroup had that ephemeral quality.
And so do Crazy Lixx – in spades. This is quite simply a fantastic record. To get an idea of where they are coming from, think Airbourne with Aquanet and spandex.
Opener “Whiskey Foxtrot Tango” sets the tone: bombastic but not stupid. It’s the next generation interpretation of “WTF”, which of course stands for What The Fuck. These are big, big riffs and Def Leppard style layered choruses which do take a little getting used to.