Where does one turn, as an artist, after levels of (inter)national success have waned? Maybe to what comes naturally, like turning up your guitar and rocking, dude. That density of sound recalls the familiar comfort and safety once realized in the garage as a kid. All the pressure is gone, momentarily, and you make music for the sake of music. Sadly, we dont get the latter from the man.
Sonically, the hands-on production reduces this to little more than a collection of demos. But production doesnt make a record, songs do, and even ProTools software couldnt clarify the mixed messages hidden deep in the folds of Vinnie Dombroskis middle-aged mind. Addiction? Son of Sam? Judas Priest-styled double kickdrum assaults without irony? And, no, he didnt repeat the line like a loaded gun on this, did he? Mustve heard it wrong. Seen-better-days combos like Staind and Nickelback aint losin any sleep, nor is Velvet Revolver. Music for the sake of music, indeed.
Robin Johnson writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to email@example.com.
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