Lame name and a worse logo (think small market AM radio station ca. 1981) cannot hide the fact that, unlike the last nameless cretins posing as “glam” that i had the distinct misfortune of reviewing, these cretins actually know who they should be ripping off (at least some of the time): Chapman/Chinn-era Sweet (a la “Blockbuster”), Chapman/Chinn-era Mud (a la “Dynamite”), and if Chapman/Chinn wrote any songs for any band after Mud but before Racey, that band too (although i am not so sure having a girl in the band to do the high, gay background vocals instead of having a guy who sings like a girl doing the high, gay background vocals is not cheating). “Landslide” is (among several allowable Glam Options) exactly the type of thing i look for in a so-called “glam” offering: Vaguely sleazy enough that i feel comfortable dressing up in silver lamé and platform shoes and haltingly dancing around my bedroom to it; Bubblegummy enough that i can also rollerskate to it with a Sno-Cone™ in one hand, should such a need arise (though not really developed or honed enough that i can dress up in silver lamé and platform shoes and rollerskate to it in my bedroom with two Sno-Cones™ in each hand, but i’m taking what i can get at this point). They rifle through the whole glitter-caked junk drawer of 1973 AM UK Glam-Pop clichés: Simple, steady beat (but tell your drummer his clumsy drum fills totally fuck up the song and he should stop doing them), two rhythm guitars bouncing off of each other, lyrics about a mysterious little number who “scratches like a tiger and stings like a bumbledy-bee,” and even the occasional hot milky spurt of ultra-falsetto – delicious! (or, at the very least, merely licious, but worthy in its execution’s sheer clonal excellence, except for the drums, which won’t make anybody forget Mick Tucker, or even the studio guy who played Mick Tucker’s parts on “Little Willy,” whom, now that i think about it, is totally forgotten, so what the fuck do i know?) “Ready To Go,” sounds like a passable low-budget version of one of Sweet’s less-incendiary self-penned B-sides and “Bands (Don’t Want Me To Dance)” includes kinda neat lines like “I wanna kiss you in a teenage heat/I want my heart left at the scene of the beat” and somehow manages to remind me of “Chatterbox” by the New York Dolls, “Kiss Me Deadly” by Lita Ford, the last song on one side of the first Boomtown Rats album, and the purple-haired version of the Zeroes, often at the same time. Everything that follows earns something between a shrug and a grimace (the grimacing occurring on a few truly pointless duds sung by their female member, who appears to be hell-bent on invoking the dread spectre of Tammy Wynette or some god damn thing. MA’AM, under NO circumstances should you be opening your big American Chick Mouth unless you are CERTAIN that you can pass for a skinny British boy passing for a little British girl! Get it right, or i’ll have your band trade you to Tsar for some guitar picks and an 8x10!); as a 7-song CD, this would make a better 2-song 45 – but pull a bunch more hits like “Landslide” out of whatever genderless orifice you pulled it outta and i’m Riding my White Swan down to the record store. On rollerskates! In a buffalo herd, even! BEST SONG: “Landslide” BEST SONG TITLE: “Bands (Don’t Want Me To Dance)” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I can say with some assurance this is the first time i’ve seen a band member’s photo taken in a library.
–norb (The Foxx)