Jennie Bomb



How ironic that it takes bands from such a far-away land as Sweden to remind us Yanks what a national treasure we have in our very own stateside styled rock ’n’ roll. The Sahara Hotnights are four Swedish rock chix in Suzy Quatro zipper jackets and Runaways-era Joan Jett dos, who believe in the American rock ’n’ roll dream. Full-throttle Camaro-and-flares bombast minus (thankfully) any of the so-not-funny mock-rock/post-rock shtick that’s passing for the new Rock is Back these days (the Vines, the Hives, natch!). This album has myriad trappings of mid-’70’s Hollywood — from the band name and logo to overall packaging — that it’s surprising to not see creepy Kim Fowley’s name in the credits.

Stomping off with promise via the big glam-slam Rodney Bingenheimer’s English disco stylings of “Alright Alright (Here’s My Fist Where’s The Fight)” — which would have been a beery rock-club fave across the country were it 1975. At best, Jennie Bomb comes off like the perfect Creem Dream date of Cherie Currie and the god of thunder himself. Unfortunately, the record gets monotonous rather quickly. There’s a few scattered gems (like the Kiss-Sweet concoction of “Fire Alarm” with its charming surfy opening lick) but all too soon the girls start sounding like Hellacopters sneery kid sis (after having taken a few riff-writing lessons from them along the way). The real question is, what do these gals think of ABBA?


Sahara Hotnights will perform Wednesday, Oct. 16 at the Shelter (431 E. Congress, Detroit) with Mooney Suzuki. For information, call 313-961-MELT.

E-mail Ricky Phillips at

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