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Flash Metal Suicide: D.A.D.

This week on Flash Metal Suicide: No Fuel Left for the Pilgrims, the third album from Disney-baiting Danes D.A.D.

“You can get the girls and the videomachine but the fuel you asked for, you cannot have” – D.A.D., “Jihad”

I was listening to Out of the Cellar the other day when it struck me that Ratt – much like their animal namesake – does not have wings. There is no lift-off with these dudes and their chintzy pop-metal tunes, no moment of transcendence that unlooses them from their place in time and history. As much as I love the simple goofy pleasures of She Wants Money or Back For More, they always sound like the muffled backdrop to a strip-club murder scene in 1985. Round and Round is not going to set some young kid’s head on fire decades from now the way, say, Kick Out the Jams or God Save the Queen or Smells Like Teen Spirit will. Ratt, like most flash metal bands, weren’t about revolution or legacy, they were about capturing lightning in a bottle. And also banging chicks. That’s part of the charm of the genre, of course, but also why most of it is resigned to nostalgia. Very few albums made by glammy hard-rockers in the 80’s still sound fresh, new, timeless. No Fuel Left For The Pilgrims is one of them. Maybe it’s because they were Danish and therefore not as prone to Hollywood bullshit, but Disneyland After Dark managed to craft an album that is clearly part of the same genre that spawned Trixter but, thankfully, sounds nothing like Trixter. It’s almost like, Christ, adults made it or something.

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