STEEL PANTHER
Heavy Metal Rules
Steel Panther Inc (2019)
Rating: 6/10
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Steel Panther is a band that so many of us have taken at face value; the comedy rock capers, the cheesy lyrics, the all too familiar melodies and song structures, and the glam metal parodying. So why then are the Los Angeles, California-based group so popular if we’ve seen and heard it all before? I’ll tell you why… it’s because they are extremely talented musicians whose musical capabilities have now gone beyond the persona.
We’re a handful of albums in to the career of the wholesome foursome and the joyful hits about lips, hips and tits keep on coming. But where so many “hair metal” (I hate such a nonsensical term) rapidly expired due to bad ideas, bad image and fluffed up ego, Steel Panther has smothered us all like a big breasted lover where we find so much comfort in such ample cleavage.
Steel Panther’s fifth full-length opus, as expected, is coated in dollops of sauce and dripping with cream. But not only is frontman Michael Starr the only member with real “heavy metal” hair, he has a set of pipes many vocalists today would kill for. And there, flicking their wigs and stretching their spandex behind him are three guys who provide a great wall of… steel.
This isn’t just some phoney by-numbers piss-take, and this isn’t Spın̈al Tap or Bad News. The shelf life isn’t limited and in spite of the familiarity of songs on each and every album, this is a band that plays metal for fun but does it oh so well. And this is coming from a reviewer who has certainly had an on and off affair with Starr and company, resulting in numerous sexually transmitted diseases and a mouth full of hairspray.
But all jokes aside, and that’s not easy to do when dealing with such a band, Steel Panther’s latest offering is again rich in gloss and rife with songs that could actually benefit more if they weren’t so smutty. Just imagine a world where suddenly Steel Panther releases a 100% serious metal album! But anyway, the college jokes, the toilet humour, the 80s throwbacks are all here. ‘Always Gonna Be A Ho’ takes that dreamy, acoustic vibe and then drags us through a sleazy hotel of sweaty sheets and stained carpet, as does ‘I Ain’t Buying What You’re Selling’; both tracks being delivered with catchy teenage quality. Indeed, it’s typical Steel Panther – nothing new, just straight up poppy metal seemingly written for fans who can sing along in their fake wigs.
How many of those fans were there in the 80s to appreciate glam metal first time round is debatable, but Steel Panther are the here and now, like some sort of comedy show paying homage to the classics of the past and lapping up the groupies while they can, and when it works it’s quite humorous. However, when it doesn’t work it’s actually quite cold and irritating, which has been my reaction to numbers such as ‘Fuck Everybody’; a dull filler that’ll appeal to the airheads more interested in the daft lyrics than Satchel’s half-decent guitar work.
‘All I Wanna Do Is Fuck (Myself Tonight)’ sticks in the head even before you’ve heard it, such is its simplicity, but the poppy punk sensibilities begin to grate so quickly. The same goes for ‘Let’s Get High Tonight’ and the idiotic title track which actually make me wonder just how the novelty has lasted for so long. But maybe it’s also proof that Steel Panther does have something a little extra in their locker in spite of the all the predictability where the fans keep on coming back – Steel Panther sort of the heavy metal version of the Foo Fighters in that their sound is just so wet, middle of the road and clichéd.
Yeah, I know Michael Starr, Satchel, Lexxi Foxx and Stix Zadinia aren’t to be taken seriously – a song such as ‘Gods Of Pussy’ is proof of that. And let’s face it, one gets the impression that such songs could be written in minutes. So I do, sort of, challenge Starr and company to write a serious metal album, even if under a different name, because I feel they are more than capable of doing so. For now though, the latest instalment is another often underwhelming soundtrack to another annoying party where the girls are stupid and the guys are even worse, and my like / dislike affair with this band continues.
Neil Arnold
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