I don’t mean to, but it just happens. I guess I just have one of those brains that hears lyrics and interprets them.
So it struck me that the first line of “Loco Paradise” was this one: “I don’t wanna see the world burn in anarchy, I just want to taste the new sensation…”
Now, I might be miles off here, but how about this: I don’t wanna change the music world, I just want to make a brilliant hard rock album?
Because if that’s what it means, then brother, The Dust Coda have nailed it.
The song that line comes from, “The Road To Hell,” could arguably be the best thing that TDC has done. The roar of John Drake’s vocals, the energy, the class. If I had to describe it in two words, “the class” would do. That’s what “Loco Paradise” is all about.
In fact, the album, in a nutshell, is that opener and “Fairweather Love.” The acoustic shimmering tones are there, and the hook is a step up. This is a band ready for the big leagues. You can’t listen to the likes of “Love Sick” and think anything else. It’s so summer-ready it could be Blind Melon circa 1990, but strip it away and you’ve got “I am getting so tired of saying hello to all these women who send me loco.” It’s multi-layered, and that’s what the best bands do. And Dust Coda is among the best.
“Call Out The Dogs” does it too. Hiding behind its swinging groove is this: “Jester on your television, lives to be saved, behind the gates they party on.” Let’s be honest, you know and I know which bag of Tory filth this is about. And if it’s not, then it is in my world.
One of the most impressive things about this collection is the way the songs are about “something”, instead of being clichéd “maybe, baby” vanilla. “Come The Night,” for example, is big and epic, but it’s also a touching tribute to Taylor Hawkins. Likewise, another acoustic track, “The Streets,” has at its heart: “Don’t tell me who to read, don’t tell me who to follow.” It serves as a reminder that social media isn’t real life.
More than anything, it’s the confidence they display, as if they’ve finally realised how good they are. On the near title track, it boils over like this: “Hey motherfucker, don’t you know my name?” Drake sings over an arena-sized hook. Let’s be honest, if a US band did “Rock N Roll Paradise,” they’d go platinum. Shall we make it happen? Let’s.
“Free All Dancers” kind of proves my point, given that it’s basically a Velvet Revolver song. Or at least, it is until it takes weird turns. “Since You’ve Been Gone” is not a Rainbow cover, but it’s a gorgeous ballad, so there’s that. And “On Fire” is a beauty. It explodes, and as it does, you realise how much they sound like Soundgarden, right about the time Drake roars, “questioning, burning my faith,” as it happens. There’s a “whoah, whoah” bit in that too, and you can’t help but imagine that being yelled in some festival field this summer.
It ends with another quieter selection, “Until I’m Gone,” and Adam Mackie’s guitar, which has been stunning throughout, is perfect here.
Look, this is (by my reckoning, as I’ve loved the other two) The Dust Coda’s third record, and you know what that means? It’s “Slippery When Wet,” it’s “Born To Run” – it’s the breakthrough record, or at least it should be. It deserves to be. I’d argue too that it’s supposed to be.
“Loco Paradise” is a step up, and they were already brilliant. If ever a record deserved to get a band where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, it’s this one.
Rating: 9.5/10
