Her twisted eyes looked down at the cover--ah hah--the promise of loose destruction, her arm dangling at an awkward angle, she’s ghost fenced, coughing and amazed, in a weekend haze, the guys on the cover of the album blemish her soul and make her blush like no others she’s come across in--oh, so long.
She’s congested and confused; is this a new super group? Is this love? That guy on the far left looks like Ron Mael after he’s been stung by a horde of killer bees, the one next to him looks like Mick Ronson, the “really” cute one is sufficiently hermaphroditic for current sexual de riguer, and that one on the other end “is” Huntz Hall.
Cheap Trick. Her eye twitched. Produced by Jack Douglas, gotta be Aerosmith mutated, can’t be bad, eh!! Well it ain’t, s’matter a fact its homage to the teenage winds of doom make it a prime candidate for the next big thing--this month, at least.
A bar band grinding out the night shift in countless pointless bars, Cheap Trick has an honestly refreshing sound, a hundred percent eclectic of course, but refreshing nonetheless. The songs are fraught with the usual first album inconsistencies but still manage to maintain an astounding level of proficiency. The fusion of the dreadnaught guitar mania linked with the impressionistic vocal gyrations of Robin Zander make for proper stylized rock convulsions...
She ran her white fingernail across the bridge of her nose, it made a little red welt, a bit of blood, but not much.
Yeah, she thought to herself. Cheap Trick made me wanna get back to the old teenmutilation days, especially when that frenzy of a song, “He’s A Whore” comes on, it makes me feel all hot and nasty inside.
Slipping on her leopard skin chemise she walks to the bathroom looking for a razor’s edge. She’s bored.
(“Hot Love” is the hit. “Violence (I’m Not The Only Boy)” is the registered smart song and the rest, well, it’s a cheap trick. What more need be said?)
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