Secret Heroes
Loose, High & Free
1.3
Here is my real review: FUCKING JOKE.
Really, that's it.
Of course, that can't be the whole review. I have an obligation to come up with at least a couple of paragraphs. Gotta' earn my pay, so to speak.
If someone had released this record in 1982, it would have been pretty much ignored by most music fans. But it might have at least seemed contemporary. Over two decades later, this is...I mean...worse than how you remember Dokken was, or Great White. In fact, Great White's first album would have eaten this thing for a light snack before lunch. This is mid paced, almost maddeningly over simplistic riffs and straight root note bass playing, with ZZ Top drums. There is singing that sounds like a drunken, balding 38 year old who has been kicked in the stomach, lying in his own puke and blood, but soldiering on for his emaciated chain smoking 42 year old girlfriend. And then there is his obese 35 year old sister with four kids who really ought to be home dieting but instead has force fed herself into her high school stirrup pants and put on a newfangled Motley Crue 2002 tour half shirt, the two of which comprise the entire crowd in the basement they are playing. Sincerely: WHO WILL ROCK THESE PEOPLE IF NOT SECRET HEROES, DAMMIT!?
This shit is so lame Tenacious D wouldn't even bother mocking it. I mean, that is fucking lame, kids. I have nothing positive to say about this record. It's worse than bad. It's boring. It's worse than dated, it's irrelevant. It's worse than hack, it's misbegotten. I just can't think of anyone who would want to listen to this. But then I can't think of anyone who would want to record it, either. Or create it.
Bottom line: Dear Secret Heroes,
NO ONE FUCKING LIKES WHITE LION ANYMORE, AND THEY KICK YOUR ASS. Quit.
