The Hellacopters – Grande Rock – Review

The Hellacopters

Grande Rock (Sub Pop)
by Jon Sarre

These scan-design lunkheads blow out a whole buncha goof-ass “’70s hard rock derived” squall, the kind that woulda set hockey rinks fulla quaalude-poppers a-droolin’ (more than usual) if they were around at the same time as Grand Funk or Vanilla Fudge or somethin’ (check out the howyadoin’goodnightNewJersey-type chorus on “Lonely” or “The Devil Stole the Beat From the Lord”), thus The Hellacopters get huzzahed like they were the greatest thing since Ron Asheton bought his first wah-wah. If you were to believe what you read, you’d think this was the band that was gonna single-handedly save us from the fin de millennium twin horrors of pop cuties marketed to six year olds and clumsy rappers weaned on clumsier metal riffs. Later-age Norsemen, right, like four horsemen plus one hellbent on offering your sorry soul salvation thru brawny borrowed power chords, middle finger organ riffs, Stoogey “oohs,” stoned-out solos and the smartest dumb mouthings to come outta the mouths of English-As-A-Second-Language speakers since maybe Teengenerate.

All that and not quite, I’ll say. Grande Rock‘s got all that good stuff, as well as “Kick Out the Jams” near-misses (“Action De Grace”) and a rhythm section to keep the sucker movin’ so even the near six minutes of “5 vs. 7” doesn’t wear out its welcome on yer stereo. The record works its charm with its singleminded “fuck it, crank up” vibe, but despite outrageous claims to the contrary, these boys’ shit still stinks. So when ya buy the thing, don’t swallow all the hype, okay? The Hellacopters are a great band, but the saviors of rock they ain’t. I suspect they know that, too.
(PO Box 20645 Seattle, WA 98102)