Record Reviews
The Dead Daisies
Album: “Make Some Noise”
Grade: A
For those who want their rock ‘n’ rollers in long, teased hair, leather pants and strip clubs, The Dead Daisies are back with an album of squealing guitars, pounding drums and as many big hooks as a Home Depot.
The ever-evolving Australia-based collective that has included former minor members of such bands as Guns N’ Roses, Ozzy Osbourne and Thin Lizzy has been looking for the sweet spot between hair metal of the 1980s and ‘70s classic rock. On their third CD, they’ve found it.
The Daisies offer a sonic wave of arena-ready songs on the 12-song “Make Some Noise” that are strangely familiar even on the first listen. That’s because the members have gleefully riffed on sounds from their musical pasts and left them like clues, like an auditory version of “Pokemon Go” for metal-heads.
Lead vocalist John Corabi (who temporarily led Motley Crue when Vince Neill left in 1992) has a nice growl and guitarists David Lowy (Red Phoenix) and Doug Aldrich (Whitesnake, Dio) are constantly revving their instruments, threatening to screech off on their own solos like little kids with a mouthful of Pop Rocks.
Bassist Marco Mendoza (Whitesnake) and Brian Tichy (Ozzy Osbourne, Foreigner) do not do subtle — they love a big, ripe, bombastic approach. All five get song and lyric writing credits, a true collective.
The album, dealing mostly with love, touring and making noise, includes the standouts “Long Way to Go” and “Song and a Prayer” as well as credible covers of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s classic “Fortunate Son” and The Who’s “Join Together.”
—Mark Kennedy, Associated Press
Haley Bonar
Album: “Impossible Dream”
Grade: A
Haley Bonar’s songs on “Impossible Dream” are both personal and universal, stories with an indie film ambience detailed enough to fill a larger screen.
The 33-year-old turned it up a notch on her previous album, 2014’s “Last War,” and this one continues in a similar vein — gliding power-pop that’s much more in-your-ear than in-your-face.
The cinematic textures are enhanced by her voice awash in reverb and the echoing layers of instruments, all at the service of vignettes — “borne of my own set of memories and ideas” — whose anguish and uncertainty are far from conquered.
The room on the album cover looks like it’s inside a Christmas tree — decorations are added every year but none are removed. It’s a canny reflection of the songs, where the emotional overload builds from one tune to the next.
With 10 songs in 32 minutes, Bonar’s album is as short as it is affecting.
—Pablo Gorondi, Associated Press
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