The Jokers - The Big Rock'n'Roll Show
This scouse four piece are gonna save your sallow rock'n'roll soul from it's miserable existence. Really? You scowl. Depending on your demographic and adherence to Classic Rock's word as law (besides, obviously, the big Sleaze G's, cos that pretty much can be taken as read), or just how much you miss the Aerosmith of legend and pissed off you might be with endless two decade tirade of tired ballads, they may do. Everyone else can go back to ordering anything from the Voodoo Rhythm label, discovering Dex Romweber or digging into Ricky Warwick's solo stuff. Vibrant and brashy and with a production as large as a lairy scouse la's protestations of innocence (mixed by the guy who did AC/DC's Rock'n'Roll Train album, though that shouldn't in anyway lead you into temptation, buy the fucking 'DC album and deliver yerself into real big balled evil god-damnit) it may be but tis but a set of seventies Aerosmith retreads albeit for all the posturing as bollock-less as those 'Smith ballads and as for it's (yawn) claims to be taking Rock'n'Roll to the next level. Well...yawn. Replete with a voice too reminiscent of Robert Plant, it's another case that smacks of conveyor belt pastiche, placing all the component parts into a telegraphable whole, such that none of it smacks home ringing true. More, as much as I love my old hats, it smacks of the last swig of chancers.