Airbourne - No Guts. No Glory.
If Airbourne didn’t exist then it would be necessary to invent them. Just as AC/DC prepare to bow out at the top a phoenix has risen from the flames, with the ever reliable land of Australia conveniently puking up the heirs to the throne. There’s no avoiding the comparisons, from the solid as a rock rhythm section through to the heart-attack guitar riffs Airbourne are classic rock and, truth be told, this is the best AD/DC album since The Cult’s Electric over twenty year ago. Just check out the awesome air guitar might of ‘No Way But The Hard Way’ and doff your trusty flat cap; sure you can check off every heavy metal rock n roll cliché in the book along the way but it is done with such style and good humour that it matters not a jot that it’s all been heard before.
So, having dealt with the elephant in the room it is time to reflect upon the fact that to label Airbourne as mere tribute artistes would be to do them a huge disservice. No Guts. No Glory is a classic rock album in its own right and comes heavily laden with flashbacks to the classic moments of the genre’s illustrious past. Check out ‘Raise The Flag’ and tell me you’ve heard a more pulsating, heart racing guitar riff since Maiden’s ‘Two Minutes To Midnight’. Marvel at Joel O’Keefe’s filthy Blackie Lawless growl on ‘White Line Fever’ and celebrate the fact that we’ve finally got a band brash and crass enough to get away with an album which has nothing at its core but sex, drugs and rock n roll.
Airbourne, like all the best rock bands, understand the raw, organic power of the unadulterated axe fed direct through an overdriven red hot valve amplifier. It speaks direct to the soul and makes a mockery of the effect laden, over processed pap we’ve been fed as an apology for rock music for the last decade. When guitarist David Roads hits a chord it stays hit and sets off a wave of devastation which rips through the speakers humps your spaniel and terrorises your neighbours. Rock and roll rarely gets any better than this.