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A band name like that brings to mind a long-lost member of Turbonegro or Gluecifer, but the music on display is more like oblique, masculine Euro hard rock in the style of Krokus or impoverished solo U.D.O. While never technical, per se, every song does its thing in the least obvious manner possible, with sour notes overlaid with truly irritating growled and shrieked vocals of a style not unlike the most overarching glam singers of two decades back. Come to think of it, the glam ethos is a recurrent leitmotif throughout this record, with a certain rhythmic thump and party-hearty vibe popping up elsewhere. It’s a weird experience to think of Helix and Shotgun Messiah one moment and Accept the next, but such is the confused identity of this band. The solos are all good shredders and maintain a certain Germanic seriousness and dignity when much else seems befuddled and silly, but at no point does any of this feel vital. And while there are some alternately rocking and sensitive moments in “Ride” and “September,” respectively, a puerile sex romp like “She Kills” is too stupid for words. The final verdict on this massively overlong album as a whole: too dopey to be important, too mechanical to be fun. One other little nugget of humor can also be gleaned from the notation of explicit songs on the track listing. Either the band thinks we can’t figure it out or it’s for radio programmers. With respect to the latter, I can’t think of a program director anywhere who’d even consider adding this nonsense, even if the band does happen to be from Philly rather than Dortmund.
| Tracklist |
| 1. Intro To War Machine |
| 2. War Machine |
| 3. Scream |
| 4. High On You |
| 5. Skies |
| 6. Ride |
| 7. Viano |
| 8. September |
| 9. Swine |
| 10. Silhouette |
| 11. She Kills |
| 12. Departure |
| 13. Westbound Train |
| 14. Boy In Blue |
| 15. Where Blood Spills |
: N/A
| Buy other Slik Helvetika albums |
