Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1987

Maybe it’s just MV being a sad old rocker, but we can’t see the name Daxx and Roxxane without hearing the John Mellencamp song “Jack And Diane” instead. This mutated into actually singing “here’s a little ballad about Daxx and Roxanne” when the album dropped into the inbox.

Anyway with that immaturity out of the system, we can say with confidence that D & R have nothing to with the US blue collar singer/songwriter, and instead have their eyes on the Sunset Strip circa 1987.

Growing up in the 1980s gave you access to some brilliant music and – judging by their picture at least – whilst its doubtful that Daxx and Roxanne heard it first time around, there’s little doubt that growing up in Switzerland (in Montreux no less, where there is smoke on the water, or something) they were more than familiar with the back catalogue’s of bands like Warrant, Ratt, Cinderella and Bon Jovi.

Now based in London, “Ticket To Rock” is their first album and, it is quite superb.

Halfway through its ten tracks is all the proof you need that you are dealing with the real deal. “Leaving For Tomorrow” begins with a harmonica lick and builds its way into the best thing on any Bon Jovi album since “These Days”. In a bygone age it would have sold millions and made them rich young men.

Not that they are bitter that it isn’t 30 years ago. Far from it. Instead, they just gleefully go with what they love from the get go. The title track is as hyper as a three-year-old on a two day candyfloss bender, like some hybrid of AC/DC and every sleaze rock band ever, it rules.

And it isn’t a fluke either. “Girl Next Door” kicks in like Ratt covering Bad Company and is like taking a JCB to knock down a model village – it happily leaves a trail of destruction a mile long in its wake.

The point here is that nothing about it is groundbreaking and its all the better for it. Daxx And Roxanne couldn’t give two hoots for being achingly hip. Instead Cal Wymann would rather knock out a dirty riff and have Cédric Pfister wrap his voice around it and call it “House Of Nothing”.

In fact, there’s an element of dirtiness about everything the quartet do. The bluesy “Lust And Love” definitely isn’t going to respect you in the morning, but you aren’t even bothered, you just want it to have its way with you.

“Wrong Side” is the best song Warrant never wrote, and “Good Vibes” has more than a touch of early Van Halen about it, which is just fine. “What Was” on the other hand positively swaggers and frankly, if you have a song called “Wild Child” and it doesn’t sound like this, then you’re wrong. So wrong.

They aren’t even finished there. At least not until “Hard Rockin’ Man” has done its business and cheerfully reprised everything that has been cool about rock n roll in less than four minutes. Including a double entendre of the class of “she’s ready to come, but I am ready to go/ I am a hard rocking man.”

They reckon if you don’t buy a ticket you can’t win the raffle. Daxx And Roxanne aren’t remotely concerned. They’ve got the only ticket they’ll ever need. The ticket to rock. An album which is clear evidence that the dirty little heart of leather sleaze is still very much alive and very much misbehaving.

This is without question one of the most unashamedly sleazy records in years.

Rating 9/10


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