I was looking forward to this one. Even without Tracii Guns on the bill, L.A. Guns always had this something to say to me. Maybe because there's a minority of fans out there dedicated mostly to the sleazy melancholy of Phil Lewis' voice. I've always considered this band to have balls, and I'll try to write down why. Or this album can clearly speak for itself. I only wish I could be at this August's Metal Blast tour package for a date...
L.A. Guns was released in 1988 but the band was already known to the circuits of the City of Angels many years before. With Tracii playing with a raw edition of multi-seller vagabonds Guns 'n' Roses (I think Axl himself handled the mic in L.A. Guns too, again in the very early days). To cut a long story short, Phil Lewis was the man who took the vocal leads - previously known for his two early 80's releases with British glam Rockers Girl (also featuring pre-Def Leppard guitar hero Phil Collen) - while ex-W.A.S.P. sticksman Steve Riley set up the kit right after the 1988 debut. The Billboard trilogy was completed with Cocked & Loaded (1989) and Hollywood Vampires (1992) and I had found a band that simultaneously outraged depression and dirt.
I remember shitty things happening between Guns and the remaining band, not any details though (move your ass and check the Net). 1995's Vicious Circle was teasing while 1996's American Hardcore (without Lewis...) was nothing special and at some time Jizzy Pearl (Love/Hate) joined the band for the release of the Shrinking Violets (1999) album. Not for that much though. Lewis came in again, for 2001's Man In The Moon (dizzy) and Walking The Dead (2002) on the Spitfire label. Dozens of players came in and out - I don't know if even the band remembers all jams - and when Tracii Guns decided to dress in white with Brides Of Destruction it was Stacey Blades who plugged in and...
Tales From The Strip put a wide smile on my ugly face. 14 tracks, 58 minutes and I think I'll be listening to this one for quite a long time. It Don't Mean Nothing hits the lights and I feel calm with Lewis' chords. Electric Neon Sunset breathes desperation and you gotta hear - at least - this tune! Oh, oh.. where we're goin'...does anybody care?. Pheww... Won't write a track-by track review; there's electricity, there's also passion, there's filth, there's this fuckin' street feeling, there's something raw 'n' mean. Under an appropriate production done by mastermind Andy Johns, also supported by a hunted album cover, Tales From The Strip demonstrates the basic idea of this band: not to rush for an album, you won't keep away from noticing this. This album really Rocks!
Relief is the general idea after the 10th time I had listened to (Can't Give You) Anything But Love. Stacey Blades lived up to my expectations - and requests - and, honestly, there was no minute thinking if the absence of Guns was evident or not. If tunes like Crazy Motorcycle, Original Sin or Shame can let some air free, to breathe... Huh!