
Considered a joke by most of their peers and even those who pretend to write reviews, the so-called music journalists of today, more often clueless teens that want a free pass to gigs, with the brilliant exception or two, Steel Panther have remained defiant some two decades after their inception.
Having honed their skill onstage for more than a few years under a few different monikers, they catapulted to the forefront of the public’s conscience with the now classic “Feel the Steel” back in 2009, fucking up the world like it was 1985 all over again. “Balls Out”, their sophomore effort, felt a little lacking, but the band’s outrageous performances and growing fame helped keep em on the up and up with 2014’s “All You Can Eat” managing to up the ante once more and score almost as high as their debut. A couple of different flavored live albums strategically released in between those albums, rather different in scope – one electric – the other acoustic – helped keep the band visible for a while, with the next couple of albums, 2017’s “Lower the Bar” and “Heavy Metal Rulez” released a couple of years later, feeling more like the band that was going through the motions and running out of jokes and juice, rather than the opposite.
One Foxxii exit later and one Spyder in, with the band perpetually on smaller scale tours around the globe, the Panthers are back with another dose of pretty much the same, but a little better.
Behind a neon drenched but cool AF cover, the tracks follow the same formula they ever did, with the results greatly varying depending on the case.
Opener “Never Too Late (To Get Some Pussy Tonight)” has a driving riff and it means business, feeling rather cool, but it’s not the balls out, primo hit, the band might have hoped it would be as it’s chorus feels to interchangeable with a few more from the band’s catalog, especially “Party Like Tomorrow’s the End of the World”.
“Friends with Benefits” suffers a little, the same fate, again a cool riff and then the band launches into their usual mo, but thankfully this time the verses build up much better and the chorus, lands whereas it previously hardly did. This feels a little like “Steel”, if you pardon the pun and oh my mr. Satchel, such sharp teeth you’ve got… ehm, wrong story… although it would be fun to see how SP could interpret “Red Riding Hood”. I meant to say that solo was sick AF.
“On Your Instagram” bemoans the overuse of filters on insta and not landing the same chick in real life, in the form of a ballad; while it’s nifty, it’s not as fun as say, “Stripper Girl” was, in all it’s in-zanity. Still hilarious though!
“Put My Money Where Your Mouth Is” continues a bit in a similar way as the first couple of songs of the album. Big ass riff, heavy phat, rhythm… mid-tempo. Tongue in cheek lyrics… but the lyrics feel a little like recycling the same old clichés the band’s used in the past… a bit too much. This doesn’t feel “fresh”.
“1987” is a pastiche of 80s clichés… that is fun and predates Nestor’s “1989”, by a couple of years… but nuff with those “glory day” songs. We want’ more ‘glory hole’ like songs to deposit our load in… if you get what I mean. Still it’s not half as bad… I guess…
“Teleporter” begins in a rather unassuming way and doesn’t really set it’s aims very high, feeling like a slight rip off of “Eyes of a Panther”, but the theme the lyrix wax on, off (see what I did there?) is something that almost every guy might have faced. Like double dating and being on the brink of being found out.
“Is My Dick Enough” is as blatant as it sounds, and not a ton to write home about. The song… dunno about the appendix. It’s dazed and hazy mood is driven by a solid riff and the Zappian progeny of Dweezil, even drops a neat solo – right there in the middle of it all.
“Magical Vagina” is daft, but great fun. A half ballady ode to the part of the female anatomy it refers to, reminds me of the time, when my English teacher caught me writing an ode to a school girlfriend’s fanny and was laughing his arse off. So is A…..’s vagina magical, Dimi? Be aware, that it won’t suck you into its black hole… hilarious exchange Theo… and every word of it true.
And having written an ode to the vagina, a hymn to the dick seems only proper and “All That and More” is a funky, prickly number that exalts pricks everywhere in a rather priapic fashion.
Once it’s all soft and flaccid and spent “One Pump Chump” is brought in to revive it. But it seems to suffer “hair trigger” reflexes, unloading the “Sex Pistol” and its chorus – just too fast, over and over again. They think it’s a joke, but other than the solo, that’s right on the money – the rest feels smothered all over. Close, but no cigar, mr. Bill.
“Pornstar” is another ballad and while the band seems to excel at turning tear jerkers into bukkake tears, the formula they’re feeding them seems to have grown a bit stale.
“Ain’t Dead Yet” is a truly acoustic jam, which obviously decries growing old and being a rocker, but it does so in the inimitable fashion the band does. Think “Girl From Oklahoma”… or some other neighb-whoring state.
“Sleeping on the Rollaway”… is actually a rather carefree number about carelessly hooking up behind your significant other’s back and having to sleep on a “Rollaway”(foldable bed) as a result. It’s bumpy and ruff, but that’s the stuff you end up with for whoring much. Not the worst conclusion to this odds and sods album.
It feels like a marked improvement, over the past two efforts, but it only holds a tiny teapot candle, when compared to the bands debuting trifecta of albums.
It’s enjoyable and funny, but not great. Then again in the era of copy-pasted albums, fake views, fake tits and YouTube covers, this neon glittering bomb of an album stands as a shining beacon in the dark. And you shouldn’t fear it, but instead take a deep plunge.