Skid Row

Them’s some pretty slow revolutions per minute from the band renowned for their monkey business. In a musical climate where even the most abysmal of groups have realised the saleable potential in "classic line-up” reunions, one would think that Skid Row would abort admirable yet laughable attempts to stay "current” such as Revolutions Per Minute and finally fucking bring Sebastian Bach back into the band. Hell, given his television show, he could use the boost too. Plodding, mid-tempo rock’n’roll with no soul, inspiration or point, the dozen tracks on this, their fifth full-length (in how many years?) are bland, banal and… well, boring. Album opener "Disease,” is instantly forgettable and ridiculous numbers including "Another Dick in the System” and "Shut Up Baby, I Love You” scream Peter Pan-ish, never-grow-up immaturity. Middle-aged men should only be saying stuff like that solely in reference to their back catalogue, not latest effort. In fact, the entire album could be summed up in one word: Why? Sure, Baz probably has little to offer this sinking monstrosity, but at least we could stomach such shit when wedged between "18 And Life” and "I Remember You.”