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By STEVE MASCORD
GUN US producer Jim Faraci took one listen to “Another Me”, the first single from a band whose album he was about to produce, and didn’t like it.
With Poison’s gutter-level raw debut, two Ratt records and Guns N’Roses celebrated live side of GN’R Lies to his credit, Faraci knew good hard rock when he heard it … and he wasn’t. “Another Me”, Mk 1, was cutesy inner-city pop with a load of unrealised guitar potential.
On the album version of “Another Me”, there is reverb, a chunkier axe approach and some decadent lead riffs.
But it’s still out of touch with a surprisingly bar room-based slab of plastic. From slicke- back hairdo and self-conscious quirkiness, Barker has fluffed up his hair and has a truly mighty rock n’ roll album on the way.
Just as Johnny Diesel took the blues and developed his background into sellable metallic pop, Melbournian Barker has taken both his influences – country AND western – and come up with something almost irresistible.
The pointer is current single “Goin’ To Pieces”, which boasts a thumping sunbaked riff and tasty harmonica overtones. It’s arrogant, basic, not at all very original and makes no apologies for being so. In many ways, it’s Barker’s “Soul Revival”.
Faraci is largely responsible for the revival, and makes his presence felt everywhere else on this abrasive debut. “Hell Hole” keeps the country-flavoured ball rolling with the sort of unaffected intensity hordes of all-American Guns N’Roses clones have chased for the last 18 months.
Barker’s decadent rock’n’roll vocal contrasts sharply with the often sparse country feel of the record. He sings about the same things a crooner in a ten gallon hat might – depression, infatuation, going for a drink – but the arrangements are infinitely more punchy and heavy-handed.
This intriguing outback hybrid is best illustrated by “All Or Nothing”, a Texan lament that could also easily have been “Sweet Child O’Mine”. Infectious chorus, ballsy bassline, engaging vocal. A future hit to be sure.
Other songs rollick along nicely, not trying to be anything but instant gratifiers. And, if you like your music simple and loud, they’ll succeed in that area easily.
Of course the simplified, down-home feel is nothing new. Recent US outfits like Junkyard, Royal Court Of China and Rock City Angels have all tried it with varying success as record companies try to find someone messy enough to rival the Gunners themselves.
Difference is, while Barker is still trying to sound like himself, his American competitors will drop off trying to imitate someone else.
And anyway, they don’t have the harmonica.
It filters through this record like water into a spunge, endowing everything with a sense of outdoors, of easiness.
He may be a nice bloke, but he sounds pretty mean. Meaner than anyone here since Rose Tattoo, Yes, this is the same band who put out that wimpy single.
This review appeared in On The Street on September 5, 1989
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