Chrome Division - Doomsday Rock 'N Roll - Nuclear Blast 2006
Running Time: 46:03
The drum corps from the Hell (Norway) High School Marching Band is soon joined by regal guitars, which lend an air of majesty to the proceedings. Well, majestic in the same way as a brass-knuckled fist hoisted to the sky while maintaining a deathgrip on a bottle of Hoegaarden is majestic. "Serial Killer" rumbles, Eddie Guz (also The Carburetors) inebriated bellow is half wolf, half Tesco Vee, half Lemmy, and all badass, the band diving boots-first into total gutterbound sleaze rock ala Dogs D'Amour. There's a bit of Priest worship in the tandem guitars of Shagrath (Dimmu Borgir) and Ricky Black, kicking forward the predatory snarl of Guz in "Hate", the song questioning "unwarranted" hatred while indulging in the very behaviour that would foster dislike, because that's just how they roll in Chrome Division. "Trouble With The Law" kickstarts to a White Zombiefied "Thunderkiss '65" groove, but infused with not a little of ZZ Top or Skynyrd's Southern twang, and finds Ricky Black tossing off ridiculously Angus Young-based leads, which is just what this sort of album needs. Every band of this ilk needs a theme song, I suppose, and "Chrome Division" is so blatantly honest it hurts. With the chorus of "Come here us! Come see us!", if there's ever been a more truthful plea for "give us money, buy us drinks", I'd like to hear it. Considering it's CD who's asking though, they'd likely just take your money and booze, leaving you destitute in some Oslo bar. "Here Comes Another One" blindsides you with a slight nod to Stooges punk, so filled it is with balls-out Rock with a capital "R". Here's where another strength of Chrome Division comes to the surface, the rhythm section of Tony White and Bjorn Luna excelling at locking into a beat and not moving, no Sir, not ever. In most cases, this would be downside, but one doesn't seek out a band like Chrome Division with philosophic discussions in mind, so who gives a fuck?
With the slower, more moody guitars in the intro, I feared "1st Regiment" to be this album's "The Ballad Of Jane", but thank God there's at least a decent groove here. Still, this is also where the main misstep of the album lies, because - while the song is "decent" - there simply isn't much we haven't seen before thus far. Not a "bad" song in the least, but there is such a thing as being too generic, even if the most part of Doomsday Rock 'N Roll is gloriously so. "The Angel Falls" shines through the dirt, a hyponotic, orgasmic blasternaut of a song, which could've been lifted from The Cult's Sonic Temple were it not for Eddie's much more gravelled delivery. Again, CD trip up slightly on "Till The Break Of Dawn", a shrug-illiciting affair nearly on par with "1st Regiment" when it comes to the "Why bother?" factor. For the past complaints, though, when Chrome Division is on, they're on dammit, and in the way pissass pretenders like Wolfmother and Soil have dreams of being. A fantastic spoken intro fires off the infectious "We Want More", which swims happily in celebratory Backyard Babies sweat and swill, even tossing in some female background "Oooh Ooohs" to accentuate. Ending with the machinegun, punked-out devastation of "When The Shit Hits The Fan", CD say their goobyes and "Fuck Yous" amid the amped up chug of a hundred Jager Bombs going off in your skull.
At the end of the day, Doomsday Rock 'N Roll lives up to the band's motto of "Booze, Broads, and Beelzebub" with great success. This is the album for revelling in a night of bulletbelts, bar fights, then waking up the next afternoon to drink off your hangover.