Thickskin

Quoting Shakespeare is a tired cliche when writing an obituary, even if for a formerly great 80s metal icon, but as the old saying goes, "I have not come to praise Skid Row, but to bury them", a funeral that is naturally about 16 years after their actual demise. Contrary to the opinions of many, including members of the very band in question, the 1990s didn't spell the end of this outfit in a studio capacity, though the proverbial writing was on the wall soon after the quasi-grunge influenced 1995 commercial downturn Subhuman Race with Sebastian Bach's exodus from the fold. Then again, the influence of a latter day 90s influence upon their 2003 attempt at a return Thickskin is the chief culprit in its total failure, rather than something that can be laid solely upon the doorstep of recently recruited vocalist and reasonably apt front man Johnny Solinger. All things considered, the aforementioned rock vocalist and latter day fellow traveler was never able to gel with Skid Row in a studio capacity during his entire tenure, but as with their 2006 bowl of turkey turds Revolutions Per Minute, this first run with Solinger is a collective failure on all fronts, and a brutal one at that.

There are two dominant styles that round out the entirety of this sad collection of stale, commercialized post-90s drivel, with the more dominant one being the putrid late 90s alternative pop/rock craze that most rational creatures decry for ever existing, which has supplanted a still present remnant of the groove-driven grunge sound of Subhuman Race. Generally speaking, the songs that veer towards the latter category tend to be less terrible of the lot, though that isn't saying much when approaching a hypnotic, semi-plagiarized homage to Marilyn Manson's "The Beautiful People" minus the creepiness that made said song charming to an extent in "New Generation". Along a similarly groovy and almost Pantera-like mold stands the plodding mess that is "Mouth Of Voodoo" and the grungy-infused attempt at aping Alice In Chains "Down From Underground". About the only point where things get a tad interesting is the de facto title song "Thick Is The Skin", which lands on a fairly nice variation of the prime riff of Sabbath's "Zero The Hero" during the verse and maintains a respectable Soundgarden-oriented vibe throughout its duration, not original by any stretch and a bit rough around the edges, but reasonably listenable.

For all the derivative staleness that permeates the aforementioned songs, they do meet the minimal threshold of metallic rocking that goes with the Skid Row moniker, which is far more than can be said for the decrepit, easy-listening crud that dominates this album. Perhaps the best analogy would be the bastard result of an orgy between such noted 90s alternative and post-grunge outfits as Three Doors Down, Dishwalla, Third Eye Blind, Seven Mary Three, Matchbox 20, Goo Goo Dolls, and just about every band that ripped off Gin Blossoms and put an Eddie Vedder yarl over top of it. Whether it's the corny pop-bopping balladry of "Born A Beggar" and the slightly U2-influenced variation thereof "See You Around", or slightly more rocking emulations of the same sappy crap like "Ghost" and "Lamb". Yet for all the trendy rubbish from 1996 that these songs could muster can't even hold a candle to the horrid, pop/punk sequel to this band's classic late 80s ballad "I Remember You"; a bigger musical insult to Skid Row's legacy could not have been thrown had Blink 182 and The Rembrandts gotten together and done a cover of said song in the same vapid formula that made both outfits rock radio darlings.

If there is a silver-lining to be had from this lame attempt at commercial pandering, it is that it reveals a number of things about both the music media and, to maybe a slightly lesser extent, the remnant members of the original band. While the commercial dookie-rags Entertainment Weekly and Rolling Stone didn't bother with this album due to it being an initially independent release (telling about their priorities as so-called journalistic outlets), the pop/rock bias of Rock Hard magazine's glowing review of this confused little album couldn't be more blatant. But for all the fawning over this dung heap, at least said outlet understood that this was not going to rub old school fans the right way, which is more than can be said for EW and RS's notion that this album's predecessor was indistinct from Skid Row's first two offerings. The real head-scratcher of the bunch is actually bassist Rachel Bolan, who while likening Subhuman Race to their equivalent of St. Anger (said album is far closer to a poor man's answer to Motley Crue's 1994 eponymous album), has little negative to say about this sad attempt at selling out. Trustees of all things Goo Goo Dolls and aging flannel-toting morons may dig this, but any self-respecting fan of metal shouldn't touch this with a 50 ft. pole.

Awful. Absolutely fucking awful is how to describe this one. This ain't the Skid Row we love, this is boring, bland corporate Three-Doors-Down style modern rock, with only a very few exceptions.

The opener, New Generation, sounds like basically what every other glam band tried in the 90s - basically, remember that Motley Crue self-titled album from 1994? Well, that's the closest comparison. Same with, to a lesser extent, the song Mouth of Voodoo, which has a bit of an Aerosmith vibe to it as well.

The rest? Well, there's the one *good* song, "Thick is the Skin", which is a fairly decent groove rocker, sounding like the latest Meliah Rage album - in other words, a watered down Pantera. The chorus is melodic, again a la Meliah Rage, with a bit of that Motley Crue s/t vibe again... not bad.

The song after that, "Hitting the Wall", ain't bad either. Another groover, with some actual fast parts that fucking rawk, which is a refreshing alternative to most of the album, which is plodding and stupid and completely fails to rawk.

The rest... holy fucking shit, Jonny Solinger sounds *exactly* like one of those horrifying modern-rock singers that were so damn popular around 1996-2000 - I forget all of them, but there were a lot, and they sounded all the same. This is basically before pop-punk a la Blink 182 took over; bands like Googoo Dolls and Dishwalla and the rest... and that's what this fucking sounds like.

Ugh. Despicable. A waste of fucking time. They even turned the old ballad, I Remember You, into a modern-rock malaise. Fucken A, this sucks.

This, in my opinion, is an unfortunate step down from Slave to the Grind. (I know Subhuman Race came in between, but I haven't heard that one yet.) First off, Johnny Solinger sounds pretty much just like Sebastian Bach, albeit without the operatic vocal acrobatics Bach was sometimes known for (Solinger has less range I guess, but he still sounds fine to me). The new drummer is quite competent and all, blahblahblah, now on to the music. The bluesy riffing is kept to a minimum, replaced by groovy riffing, often of the start-stop nature that drops out entirely during the verses, then the pre-chorus will be a start-stop groove thingy, and then a full-on rock/metal-type riff during the chorus, which can occasionally be catchy, but it sounds like they're sticking to a formula, because almost every other song on the album follows this pattern (and the other half of them are modern rock-influenced ballads, some of which wouldn't be out of place on albums by the Goo Goo Dolls and their ilk...no lie). The album isn't bad, per se. It has its moments, and some songs (New Generation, Thick is the Skin, Hittin' a Wall) rock quite hard in the vein of Slave to the Grind, especially Hittin' a Wall (great riff), catchy choruses and all. However, even these ones often fall prey to the whole stop-start lack of riffing during verses and whatnot, and the modern rock influence is frighteningly pervasive. Many of the ballad-esque melodic tracks (of which there are quite a few, alarmingly) found me sitting there listening to them, and realizing I wasn't always listening to metal. What a damn shame. Hopefully this is a passing phase.