and roots worship that often signal the decline of an underground movement, this album has the freshest riffage since last year's Soundgarden record – tight, hot guitar lines and radio hooks that burn themselves into your brain.

Although his lyrics aren't exactly Vedderish, Sebastian Bach – once reviled for a T-shirt that was horribly homophobic – almost cleaves to PC respectability on this one. And although he hasn't quite rid himself of the occasional high-pitched quaver – like his thick New Jersey accent, hints of his "18 and Life" past continue to haunt him – his voice, newly expressive, often strays closer to Trent Reznor howl than to Bon Jovi squeal. (RS 706)

JONATHAN GOLD