One Way Ticket to Hell...And Back
The new album begins slowly with a gothic chant followed by a pan flute intro. Just as you are wondering whether you bought the proper CD — the sound of coke-snorting, guitar, a mighty cowbell. And the ROCK begins. Justin Hawkins remains the reincarnation of Freddy Mercury, hitting bum-squeezing high notes and instigating spontaneous high-kicks in your living room. And the massive power chords will have the world’s white, middle-aged males winding out on their air-guitars with full over-bite in effect. The question remains: “Are these guys serious?” Shut your trap! They have bowed down to the metal Gods who came before them and been anointed 100 percent ass- kicking. Now please thrust your fist in the air.