Right from the opening sensationally sleazy slow-grinding song BIG BOY, this album filled my imagination with tantalizing trashy images of a smoky and sordid biker bar with half-naked women in skimpy black leather lewdly cavorting on stage, while the rowdy regulars booze it up and brawl with each other to the wee hours of the morning.
All the right lowdown skuzzy ingredients for a prime rattling blast of first-rate "junk" rock are present and accounted for – sneering sub-Mick Jaggeresque vocals, slinky, slithering tempos, hard-diggin' guitar riffs, relentless steamroller drums, fiercely hip-n'-rippin'-zoned-to-the-funky-bone heavy keyboards, deep, thick, lingering bone-quaking groves, deliciously tawdry subject matter, and absolutely no needless artsy-fartsy pretense to get in the way of the divinely dingy and dirty straight-up-no-bullshit fun.
