Come On Like The Fast Lane

Presentación del Álbum

More than two decades on and, following a lull in the '90s, eight years into their most solid lineup -- founder Walter Salas-Humara (guitar, lead vox), Drew Glackin (guitars, bass), and Konrad Meissner (drums) -- the Silos continue to offer reliably muscular, marginally likable rock. But Come on Like the Fast Lane is disappointingly undistinguished. Salas-Humara's and Glackin's crunching, high-flying guitars call the shots throughout, but like S-H's vocals and unremarkable lyrics, there simply isn't much to write home about. In their attempt to strip down to the basics -- no additional players, first-take minimalism -- the Silos have done themselves a disservice by issuing an album that doesn't try very hard. Alternately melancholically weepy and life-just-rocks giddy, Salas-Humara plunders familiar territories without breaking much of a sweat. His rockers rock with a fair amount of zeal (opener "Behind Me Now," co-penned with Steve Wynn, sets a good example but is never really matched) and his ballads, especially the ones with a pedal steel twang, tug at heartstrings appropriately enough. But they never rise above, and Salas-Humara himself appears to be bored with his latest crop, because in synopses of the songs issued to the media along with review copies of the CD, he rarely displays more than a shred of enthusiasm for his own work. Describing the closer, "Kickass," he summarizes, "You don't need another man. You are kickass." "Tell Me You Love Me" is about, he writes, "Ah, the travails of Modern Romance. Just tell me you love me." "Sunset Morning" comes down to "Love is strange. Love is beautiful. Sit back and let it roll all over you." If the songwriter is no more involved than that, chances are you won't be either.
© Jeff Tamarkin /TiVo