Red Light Fever
Justin Hawkins doesn’t do cocaine any more. He does, however, still do really stupid, piss-take-y, ironic (AND FOR ONCE AND FOR ALL: HE IS BEING FUCKING IRONIC. HE DOES NOT FUCKING MEAN IT) cock-rock. Hot Leg are his new band and ‘Red Light Fever’ is their debut album. It sounds exactly how you’d imagine it to. It has big, stupid riffs that sound like they’ve come from a Whitesnake or Foreigner bootleg and titles such as ‘I’ve Met Jesus’, ‘Cocktails’ and ‘Gay In The 80s’.You might giggle, once. At best, you might, if you work in a guitar shop, hear it and go, “Nice riffs!” And they kind of are nice riffs. And he kind of can still – as a devil-horning, Motörhead T-shirt-wearing 2004 T4 presenter might have said – “wail”. But it’s not funny. It’s not good.
It’s not bad. It’s not annoying. It’s just… nothing. You will not laugh. You will not cry. You will fleetingly think, “Jeez, Cat friggin’ Deeley presenting three Brit Awards, in front of a sober audience, to a guy who looks twice her age in a silver jumpsuit, who’s just sung a song about genital warts from atop a 50-foot podium and will shortly head out on a tour of the UK during which he’ll fly across the audiences on a massive pair of plastic tits! What the fuck was all THAT about?!” But then you’ll just forget about Justin Hawkins once again, and get on with your life, while he has to deal once more with the blanket disinterest in his wares.You’ve just gotta feel for the guy, really…
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