Track Listing 1. Rescue Me 2. Tired of You 3. Highway Star 4. Dreams 5. Talk to Me 6. Child Called "It", A 7. Don't Go Away 8. Fallout 9. Rose 10. All of Me 11. Imminent Bail Out 12. Cream 13. [CD-ROM Track]
| Details | | Playing Time: | 42 min. | | Producer: | Keith Nelson, Marti Frederiksen | | Distributor: | Universal Distribution | | Recording Type: | Studio | | Recording Mode: | Stereo | | SPAR Code: | n/a |
Album Notes Personnel: Josh Todd (vocals); Keith Nelson (guitar, acoustic guitar, slide guitar, baritone guitar, background vocals); Stevie D. (guitar, background vocals); Jimmy Ashhurst (mandolin, finger cymbals, background vocals); Xavier Muriel (drums, percussion, background vocals). Audio Mixers: Keith Nelson; Marti Frederiksen; Anthony Focx. Recording information: Loma Del Sinsonte. Photographers: Andrew Zach; James Minchin. Forever a band without a niche, L.A.'s Buckcherry has never existed in the right place at the right time. When their acclaimed first album was released, Backstreet Boys and N'Sync were coming into their prime and rap rock was the dominant style. But for fans who craved greasy hedonism the likes of which vanished around the time Axl Rose went crazy, Buckcherry was a revelation. Despite label woes, personnel turnover, and singer Josh Todd's brief flirtation with becoming the new Axl, Buckcherry survived and is more successful than ever. BLACK BUTTERFLY doesn't mess with their formula. Todd's lyrics generally deal with intoxication and fornication, and the AC/DC-like crunch that accompanies most of them is perfect for gyrating, but songs like the radio-ready power ballad "Dreams" display a morning-after sobriety that keeps BLACK BUTTERFLY from being one-note. Has any party band been less rock & roll fun than Buckcherry? Self-appointed saviors of sleaze, the L.A. scuzz rockers are disciples of the Sunset Strip circa 1987, singing songs of crazy bitches and cocaine, scored to secondhand Aerosmith ripoffs stripped of boogie so they're turned into lead-footed stomps. Rock & roll doesn't need to be complicated -- it's often better if it isn't -- but if it's going to be the soundtrack for a night of binge drinking at strip clubs, it damn well better make wallowing in filth sound irresistible, not drudging. Buckcherry dutifully hit all their marks on their fourth album, Black Butterfly -- the greasy guitar, the snake-dancing vocals, rhythms designed with a Texas lap dance in mind -- so that makes the record no different in form or function than their other LPs, but there's nevertheless a significant downturn in energy, lacking the stoopid hooks of "Lit Up" and "Crazy Bitch," hooks that now more than ever seems accidental. Here, they piss on the Dead Kennedys, swipe power ballads from Mötley Crüe, and pluck Guns N' Roses with absolutely no sense of glee; it's dutiful cardboard cock rock. If the band played with any sense of enthusiasm, this could be tempting toxicity -- music you know is bad for you but you can't resist. But Buckcherry are so far gone on the road of rock & roll indulgence they wind up repeating the same stupid excesses not because they're fun, but because they don't know how to do anything else. Far from being the soundtrack to a raging party, Black Butterfly is the flip side of indulgence: Buckcherry are now the sound of a slow slide into the monotony of addiction. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
Editorial Reviews The L.A. quintet, fresh off the radio ubiquity of 'Sorry' last year, prove themselves masters of the form yet again... Entertainment Weekly
3.5 stars out of 5 -- Dirty-minded, unrepentant, and awash in bad-boy charm, BLACK BUTTERFLY makes you forget hair metal's demise was more than 15 years ago. Spin
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