Album Review: LA Guns - The Devil You Know

I have long said that a lot of bands and albums that get labeled 'classic' are more due to the dumb luck of coming out at the right time. I can run through a long, long list of records that would be laughed at if they came out today, but they are currently held up as defining classics of their genres. We don't like to think luck plays a factor, but it does. Take LA Guns, for example. They came up in a time when every band on the Sunset Strip was getting signed, and they had a minor tie to Guns N Roses, so it was natural they would find an audience. But they were awful then, and they're awful now. Their last album got praise from the 80s fanatics, but it was terrible. Phil Lewis might sound like he did back in the day, but that only means he sounds bad. The songwriting was weak, and the album sounded flimsy too.

So now they come back with an album that is supposed to be heavier and more aggressive, which are the same buzz-words that get trotted out every time a band is struggling to say anything good about what they've come up with. There are enough people out there who mistakenly think 'heavy' is a synonym for 'good', and that's one of the things that makes me sad about music.

Anyway, let's talk about this record. First thing's first; this is another album that sounds truly dreadful. Tracy's guitar buzzes with a horrible tone that sounds like a child's practice amp, and Phil's vocals are buried underneath that fuzz. That's both a good and bad thing. It doesn't help the songs to put all the focus on the ugly guitars, but it does distract us from hearing Phil's voice, which is an unpleasant strain. Why people from the 80s continue to say he sounds great is a mystery. Did the 80s have no standards?

The first lyric on the record is about "bullshit", which sums up the remainder pretty well. These fifty-somethings are trying their best to be heavy and tough, which is total posturing. I'm assuming it's that desire that led them to these production choices, which is a misguided attempt to slap a veneer of cool onto a band that is anything but. If the name LA Guns wasn't slapped on the cover, I would have no trouble believing this record comes from any local bar band. It's not well written, sung, or produced.

That said, it is still better than their previous record. That one had no redeeming features I could find, while this one has a couple of songs that aren't half bad. They aren't good, but they aren't embarrassing. I could do without ever hearing Phil's voice filtered through a piercing megaphone filter ever again, but something like "Loaded Bomb" isn't the worst way to spend four minutes.

But let's be honest; LA Guns doesn't deserve our time. Between the drama they have spent decades fostering upon us, and their mediocre at best catalog, there's no reason for us to care about new music from them. They have endured only because people thought they were on the verge of imploding. Being a fan of them is like waiting at the train crossing to see if a car gets hit.

This record isn't that full-on massacre, it's even worse. "The Devil You Know" is an afternoon spent waiting after forgetting the trains don't roll by anymore.