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Lordi: The Arockalypse



Since it's unusual for most American bands who consider themselves rock 'n' rollers to actually possess any resonant spirit or feeling of said rock 'n' roll, then just leave it to a grip of Alien Gore Lords from Finland (Grindhouse 2 anyone?) to uphold and deliver in the monumental task of bringing the balls back to rock. If you're into bands like Wolfmother or The Sword, who are succeeding by dissecting and rearranging all the obvious Sabbath and Deep Purple songs, then Lordi is your new ultimate.

Based on their appearances, you may feel inclined to judge our planet too tiny for another wretched spawn of Gwar. If this is the case, then please allow me to prove you wrong. Selling platinum several times over in their icy corner of the world, Lordi has skinned the bombast of mid-70s live Kiss and Alice Cooper, and ravaged the coarse songwriting meat of Twisted Sister and W.A.S.P. for a delightfully blistering third record. And these dudes are having a hell of a good time doing it.

The Arockalypse introduces its hostile takeover as a rapidly expiring, faux newscast informs us that there's some really crazy and messed up monsters doing things outside. Naturally, Dee Snider is the messenger and it's his call to inform us that our minds will collectively explode from "lethally radioactive metal exposure." Cue next attempt at arbitrary description of more influences upon band in discussion: If you can envision the creation from the Cars with Lemmy rolling shotgun, Anthrax in the trunk and Dio hog-tied to the hood, then we're getting somewhere. With outrageous drivers like "The Deadite Girls Gone Wild," "Chainsaw Buffet" and "The Kids Who Wanna Play With The Dead" and the shrill sense of artistic proportion with tender Cinderella-Slaughter-type ballads like "Night Of The Loving Dead" and "It Snows In Hell," you've got an excellent soundtrack for a night full of Hamms and denim-clad civil disobedience.

--Justin Peterson


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