White Knuckle Ride
Said it once already (maybe in not so many words • see my Electric Frankenstein review), and I’ll say it again: “rocking out” is currently passe. See, a few years back, no one wanted to touch rock n’ roll with a ten-foot pool cue, but now that the image of the “rocker” is experiencing something of a resurgence thanks to some schmuck named Lenny Kravitz, it’s once again hip to join the retread race, begetting a situation where slinging epithets like “poser” seems like the only proposition. This month’s late entry: The X-Impossibles, and their sophomore platter, White Knuckle Ride. This five-piece over-flatteringly fancy themselves a melange of The New York Dolls, The Stooges, and The Dead Boys, which isn’t too off-point, but these ears hear a smidgen of The Dictators and The MC5, too. Thing is, The X-Impossibles • and likewise, all their hapless contemporaries • can only hope in utter futility to channel the spirits of the latter two (or, for that matter, all the aforementioned bands), the “spirit” being what makes those bands legendary and this band hollow. A White Knuckle Ride to nowhere.
Cargo Records, 4901-906 Morena Blvd., San Diego, CA 92117-3432; http://www.cargomusic.com