With an opener called Bad Boy (For LovingYou) not so much falling out a corset as it dreams of but nursing aspirations of saving up for a wonderbra with lines like ‘We’re a match and I’m gonna strike it’ and ‘With you I feel like breaking all the rules’ it may come as no surprise whatsoever that these Montreal ballers play the sort of workman-like straight to seventh generation tape copy of hair metal hauling sub-Coverdale paunch on a package tour with the remnants of the slivers of rawk glory that Great White originally managed to snag, mixed - sorry, dowwwwn - with a bit of Bizkits in Limpin Park modernity in its later stages that at least resemble Saigon Kick a little, though not that one good song they did. Attempting to coax almost every cliché in the book into it’s floorspace it’s bound for a cocktail down the front or, I dunno, maybe these lines work in some strange land but Love You Like An Animal (‘When you move your body it’s like a tidal wave crashing down on me’!), The Edge (Is Where The Action Is) – wherein our hero TJ confides he lives on the razors edge and in the fast lane - and Out Of Control ring about as true as Sebastian Bach competing successfully on a quiz show against Stephen Fry. Alas (for them), despite some strict adherence to the ingredients of the guitarists book of cock rock licks (and putting brackets in song titles) everyone’s real gone love dawwwg, and fellow countryman, Danko Jones wouldn’t even bother to even dribble here to mark his territory, and real sexy lovecats Chop Suicide wouldn't tender any therapy, 'cept perhaps of the most sadistic sort. More sunset cycle path than boulevard.