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If only there wasn't that lingering sense of vacuous sincerity. before them, are not in the business of satire. However: if it's really all fun and games, as the staggeringly insipid Detroit six-piece might lead you to believe, the music doesn't give it away. 80s rock clichés abound- but just subtly enough to imply that the band was either too musically incompetent to follow through to the point of parody, or just didn't give a shit that they are, in essence, a very sincere hair-rock band. Even the ballad here- a love song to a synthesizer- is drenched in beamingly heartfelt bleach-blond solos and soaring, Winger-esque keyboards.īut hold up, it's confession time: until my HMO approves my elective surgery, I'm not made of stone.
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Slightly funky guitar lines skirt along the edge of power ballad territory, while Valentine dives completely over the edge on the laughably earnest, yet surprisingly upbeat "I'm the Bomb".Īnd even though many of these songs are steaming retro-piles, and the lyrical content here often makes a fatal car crash seem pleasant by comparison, Electric Six actually bothered to throw in a few songs that are genuinely, unabashedly entertaining. Title aside, it's the band's most serious moment, and proves to be a fairly even blend of bouncy, disposable pop and just enough real meaning, or sentiment, to sustain interest.
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"Synthesizer", the aforementioned techno-serenade, closes the album immediately afterward on an equally positive note the loopy, whistling synth tropes are at least a decent counter to the time they spend mining hair-metal elsewhere.Īnd yes, "Danger! High Voltage", the surprise British dance hit of '02, is reprised wonderfully, forming the only truly illuminating cut to be found on Fire.