Draven - Eden
If you’re initially enticed by the cover sticker saying ‘half-cowboy bar brawl, half monsters of rock arena…’ - well the first part anyway - excitement levels will grow sharply at the opening waves of wah onslaught that are little short of Supersuckers Run Like A Motherfucker straight outta Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak. Alas, after a mere sixteen seconds the guitars cut out to literally fulfil the second part of that sticker proclamation, for a funk-shuffle verse behinders the horizon resembling none other than Scarborough’s sod-faced sea-dodgers Little Angels, a fact that comes to the fore as soon as track three in the form of turgid, string laden, epic-striving, titular ballad that makes Ozzy’s history of balladic dross seem something out of his hero’s The Beatles backpages (a feat repeated on antiseptic whimper I Don’t Care). This colours not just the track but the entire proceedings thereafter. So like you ignore the Parental Advisory stickers (as opposed to them attracting your attention) this is really a crock of classic rock dross, not unlike Extreme playing at Skid Row. So, to shine a supernova of light onto the warning, don’t be duped into thinking Eden may be a treat of western-fringed rawkarowl sporting metal saddles or a diesel-dramming biker phalanx of thunderboogie, for this lies heavily, if not entirely, on it’s stadium aspirations, even rollickin contender Fight, which falls into the same cavernous pit that Blitz did by not having the balls to keep an adequately (was gonna put perfectly but that would’ve meant it’s in the league of Let There Be Rock or Hell’s Bells or something) riff going, like a novice with a power tool. By the time third simper-whinge Breathe filters through your absconding senses, following which Stranger applies the usual format of crunchy riff being seduced by a sagging, effects-laden arpeggio you’ll be wondering if this is a tax write off scam. Disappointing. Draven? Drivel.