At some point around the implosion of nu-metal and the saturation of pop-punk, and the rise and fall of emo, fattened and emboldened by social media, the everyone’s-a-critic mentality of today was born. And at some point along this journey, we (and by we, I mean fans of rock and metal music) seem to have lost sight of the fact that music is allowed to be fun.
Not every album has to be artsy or earnest, have multi-layered meanings, shrewdly analyse and dissect the sociopolitical context of our times, or be the right style and sound to be accepted. We need to challenge the now common mindset that there are sub-genres and styles that are cool and allowed, and others to be sneered at. Steel Panther may be an arena selling, festival sub-headlining band, but anyone who is anyone in the taste police is falling over themselves, still, ten years on, to slap ‘em back down.
Well, and this probably comes as no surprise, Wilson do not give a single fuck about anyone for whom rock music is about finding artistic merit. And, do you know what? All power to them for it.
Tasty Nasty (Red) is not the sort of album to listen to if you require your tunes to be dissected with a furrowed brow and a thesaurus of terminology for “deep” and “involved”. It is, however, the sort of album to put on when the sun is out, the roads are open, and you want something to make you smile. It is wholly derivative (the running order is, essentially, a track list of nineties and early twenty-first century influences), but it’s good dumb fun.
‘Dumptruck’ loves Limp Bizkit, ‘Wrong Side of History’ could star in its own ‘Dope Show’ such is its party Marilyn Manson vibe, ‘Like A Baller’ owes royalties to Kid Rock, ‘Act My Age’ could have been the double A-side to All-American Rejects ‘Give You Hell’, while elsewhere acts like Smashmouth and Crazy Train are called to mind. The lyrics are simple and base, the production is slick and poppy and the hooks are skyscraper-sized in their obviousness.
The world needs balance, and we all need to remember that there’s a big, vacuous space for enjoyable, stupid music. Wilson aren’t afraid to roll back the years, flash a cheesy, cheeky grin, have a great time blasting out obnoxious, entertaining summer tunes and letting it rock. And while it may taste nasty, every now and then, that can only be good for you.
7.0/10
STEVE TOVEY