I must admit that I haven’t been a long time Motley Crue listener. I’ve never really been into the hair bands that tore up the scene in the 80’s. Most of it probably has to do with my age and that I wasn’t around to really witness the insanity of that era. Recently, however, I have started to pay more and more attention to Crue as I read and loved every bit of The Dirt. It’s honestly one of the best books I’ve ever come across as it painfully demonstrates that these wealthy, adored musicians are human like the rest of us; they are self-conscious, they are reckless, and they yearn for attention and acceptance. This band earned an enormous amount of respect from me as they put their inner thoughts, no matter how personal or embarrassing, out there for the world to see. My interest then turned to their music so I could associate the stories with the songs. I bought their Greatest Hits album from 2003 and was surprised at how much I enjoyed them. I imagine if I listened to the individual albums I wouldn’t like it as much since the filler is included. All of this got me geared up with anticipation for their new release, Saints of Los Angeles.

Motley Crue is notorious for releasing albums that have choice cuts but are overall mediocre. Bassist Nikki Sixx has discussed this at length in both The Dirt and The Heroin Diaries, as drugs played a major role in preventing them from focusing all energy and attention to each song included on the discs. Eleven years have passed since the last studio album (the horrendous Generation Swine) featuring the original lineup was released, and for all die-hard Crue fans out there the wait was worth every minute.

Saints of Los Angeles hit shelves on Tuesday, a week before the guys are scheduled to kick off their first annual Crue Fest tour. If for some strange reason you were considering skipping out, you now have an excuse to attend: these new tracks are gonna be killer live.

I think it’s safe to say that this is the best album Motley Crue has released (or at least since Dr. Feelgood). The majority of the tracks are solid, with some being stellar and only a few being simply tolerable. The first track is a cryptic introduction titled “L.A.M.F.” where Vince Neil warns of the dangers of Los Angeles and the music industry:

Slithering towards the dream
All infected with the same disease
Awaiting your flesh to be cloaked in silver
As the fat rats grovel
Ready to steal your innocence
And exploit your soul

Some will hit their knees
In a rancid act of desperation
While others search
For a hopeless god to save them
For every four, there will be
One hundred thousand fallen
Drowning in a cesspool of awareness
That they have failed
This city, full of plastic angels
Will seduce you

Welcome to Los Angeles!

The second track, “Face Down in the Dirt,” is one of the weaker songs. Tommy Lee’s pounding drums and Mick Mars’s rampaging guitar riffs manage to salvage the song from being a complete waste of time. But don’t despair because once you pass this track you are treated to some of the best Crue ever produced.

This album supposedly was inspired by the anecdotes in The Dirt, and reading the novel will increase the pleasure you get from the songs. “What’s It Gonna Take,” the third track, is immediately catchy and tells the struggles of starving musicians stuck in a sea of wanna-bes with a dream of being rich and famous. “Down at the Whisky” transports the listener to a time when sex, alcohol, and rock were all that mattered, when responsibilities were ignored and dirty clothes were worn for days at a time. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of rocking out at the legendary Sunset Strip club, then you will appreciate every bit of the track. I was taken back to all of the celebrity sightings and Jager shots of a crazy Cinco de Mayo spent with Miser as they made their West Hollywood debut.

The first single, “Saints of Los Angeles,” is an accurate representation of the overall sound of the album. Once again, Mick, despite his debilitating arthritic disease, shines through with awesome riffs. Even Vince’s vocals, which were always the hardest part of Crue to accept, sound amazing. I wouldn’t be surprised if they open with this track during Crue Fest.

Next up is “Mutherfucker of the Year,” a harder track that will satisfy any rock fan. The sound is more updated instead of relying on the old glam metal sound they perfected back in the day.

Track seven, “The Animal in Me,” is my favorite on the album. It is, without a doubt, one of Crue’s greatest songs. Vince pulls off the vocals which seem like they could be quite difficult in tempo and pitch. I don’t know if he could do it accurately live, but we’re not listening to that. We’ve got the mastered track to crank on our stereo. Mick’s solo towards the end of the song accompanied by Tommy’s increasing pounding is impressive and shows just how talented they really are.

We’ll skip over “Welcome to the Machine” as it is one of the rare bad tracks on the album. The beat is unyielding but the vocals are, for lack of a better word, lame. As Vince cries, “More, more, more, more, more,” you cringe and want to move on. If you’ve read The Dirt, though, you should pick up on the reference to the chapter comparing the music industry to a machine with various cogs that catch musicians.

The album is not without it’s comedic moments as “Chicks=Trouble,” “This Ain’t a Love Song,” and “White Trash Circus” create hilarious storylines. I was happy to see a song called “Chicks=Trouble,” as that is Nikki’s favorite motto to live by, especially in The Heroin Diaries. All women seem to do with the Crue is create unnecessary drama, and Nikki realized this a long time ago. “This Ain’t a Love Song” is an anthem for the single man on the prowl who doesn’t want to be caught up in a relationship. Hell, he doesn’t even need to see the girl when he wakes up in the morning! Mick’s guitar solo on this track is the best I’ve run across this year. “White Trash Circus” isn’t the most cohesive song on the album, but it’s a good party song with another raging Mick Mars riff.

The final track is appropriately titled “Goin’ Out Swingin’.” It has a distinct punk vibe that, along with the lyrics and tempo, kicks your ass and shows that the Crue isn’t near hanging up their instruments. It closes the album on an very enjoyable high note.

As sad as I am to miss Crue Fest this year (completely booked for the tour dates that are near me), at least I have this ballad-free, in-your-face rock album to keep me satisfied until next year’s tour. Pick this album up!

If you’ve read The Dirt: 3 out of 4 stars
If you haven’t read The Dirt: 2.5 out of 4 stars