EAGLES OF DEATH METAL

They aren't THE EAGLES and they sure in the hell aren't death metal, so what in the name of Joe Walsh's disemboweled corpse are the EAGLES OF DEATH METAL doing? For starters, Josh "Baby Duck" Homme (QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE, KYUSS) spends the entire album running so far away from his SABBATH-laced and thunderously heavy desert/stoner metal roots that he lands smack-dab in the middle of the '70s club scene. With the over-exaggerated moustache and Marc Bolan-styled riffing of band mate Jesse "Boots Electric" Hughes as his guide, Homme explores the seedy, hookers n' blow filled corner of his musical universe on this journey to and through rock n' roll's most righteously hip (and unintentionally comedic, at times) territory.

Coated in more stank than an overworked porn starlet, "(I Used To Couldn't Dance) Tight Pants" and the album's most straight-ahead and energetic track, "Anything 'Cept The Truth" are two songs that should make Gene Simmons beam with perverse pride. The duo offer a taste of ROLLING STONES balladry with the mildly twangy "Now I'm A Fool" and make the most of the standard, yet slinky, blue progression with "Wanna Be In L.A." and "Secret Plans". Try to get through the former without laughing your ass off, singing along to the alternating soprano and baritone voices in the chorus, or both. There's a bit more of the Richards/Jagger swagger found in "How Can A Man With So Many Friends Feel So All Alone", while for the final three songs ("Solo Flights", "Prissy Prancin'" and "I'm Your Torpedo"),"Heart On" takes a detour into darker terrain. The classic rock fire still exists on said tunes, but they come from a more shadowed and experimental end of this duo's spectrum; the rubbery bass and backwards guitar on the closer being the most 'out-there' of the batch.

All in all, "Heart On" is a fairly legitimate stab at recapturing the sleaze of 70's cock rock fever, and one that Hughes and Homme have a hell of a lot of fun with as well. The only problem is, they're almost having too much fun, and parts of this pill (the Andy Gibbs vocals, stereotypical nuances and machismos and lifeless female back-up singers, to name a few) are a bit hard to swallow. As an occasional listen, "Heart On" has plenty of entertainment value and wouldn't be the worst choice of albums for a party setting, but Homme's recent statement that this is now one his main outlets is a little disheartening as he's surely got a lot more to offer than tongue-in-cheek, hipster rock.