I was watching ‘Welcome To Wrexham’ on Disney earlier. Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenny were making a comment on the superficiality of Hollywood. It looks great, but is disappointing when you dig deeper, was the essence of their message.

The Bites hail from there – to be honest, even if they weren’t, they’d probably think they were – and damn, they’re rock stars. In many respects, this album stands in contrast to what the two stars conveyed. “Squeeze” is far from superficial; every word they sing they’ve waited for all their lives I reckon.

“Knockin’ On The Door” transports us back in time, conjuring vivid images of spandex and big hair, though regrettably absent in The Bites.

“Pretty Boys” maintains the retro vibe, delivering a boogie that could rival Faster Pussycat. Cocaine and Pretty Boys take center stage in this gritty anthem. “Love Affair” follows suit, with lyrics dripping with desire and longing, as if imploring, “I want you and I need you, and I could treat you better than he does.”

Now, “Heather Leather” charges in, and while it might be tempting to criticize it, two things hold me back: firstly, it resonates with the early Cinderella sound, and secondly, the band appears to be having more fun than any of us.

“Wild Animal” doesn’t hold back, displaying the same lack of subtlety as Tuff (kudos if you remember them). “She only comes at night,” they boldly proclaim, without bothering with a double entendre. But it’s as sleazy as can be and surpasses anything Motley has done in the last 15 years.

“Bad Bad” (because, of course, they are; nice boys don’t play rock ‘n’ roll). The rebellion in their sound is undeniable. “Squeeze,” as expected, serves as the blues ballad, following the tradition that albums like this have long held.

They shine when delivering tracks like “Good Love,” which transports us back to the glory days of glam rock, evoking T-Rex, and leaves us with no option but to surrender to sheer enjoyment. “Cold Clean Lady” sounds as hot and filthy as the best rock anthems should.

“Do Me A Favor,” let’s be honest, is drenched in AC/DC vibes, channeling the spirit of “Let There Be Rock.” And who cares if it’s familiar? It’s a testament to their prowess. “Dirty City” wraps it all up, portraying a world where the girls are pretty, and the band eagerly awaits their moment on stage. All’s well in this rock ‘n’ roll realm.

In conclusion, don’t overanalyze it. Yes, you can be cynical if you want, but why bother? I grew up with this stuff. I grew up wanting to be in a band like this. The five men in The Bites are living their dreams, and they’re living ours too. Just party like it’s 1986. Grunge was meant to kill it, but rock ‘n’ roll will never die.

Rating: 8/10

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