There are no songs about driving cars on Exposed, the debut solo album by former Mötley Crüe throat Vince Neil, none about racing Indy Lights dragsters, none about ending somebody's life in an alcohol-fueled traffic crash, none about cruising through a downpour in February 1992 only to learn that your platinum-times-17 rock band doesn't want you anymore. So it's possible this isn't exactly an autobiographical treatise. The closest Neil comes to taking the wheel is when he observes oncoming headlights on "Can't Change Me," a power ballad penned by a pair of Damn Yankees. But even then, he's only hitchhiking.

Neil spends a lot of his time on Exposed staring down Jezebels – soul-sucking sisters of pain, golden angels who want his body. He also savors flowing whiskey and fine wine and examines the sociology of the street: "Living Is a Luxury" is about how certain parts of the city turn unhealthy at night, and "Gettin' Hard" is a Van-Halen-funked stomp with lyrics that apparently revolve around making friends with prostitutes.

"You're Invited (but Your Friend Can't Come)," a hit last year off the Encino Man soundtrack, is Exposed's high point. The second-best song is a cover of "Set Me Free," a Who rip that originally served as the seventh-best song on Sweet's 1975 bubble-glam classic, Desolation Boulevard. Before Neil left, Mötley Crüe's talent for glitter chants and teen-pop choruses always made the band's more macho metal seem too big for its britches, and Exposed has the same problem: When Neil keeps it simple and sings instead of screaming, he can be fun. His disc opens with two ugly groaners overloaded with pompous wank, and "Living Is a Luxury" seems unduly influenced by Spinal Tap's late jazz-orchestra period. But guitar hero Steve Stevens brightens "The Edge" with flamenco fluttering, and "Can't Have Your Cake" glues wise words from Vince's mom to a rockabilly bounce. Who even knew Vince Neil had a mom? It makes him seem more human, somehow. (RS 664)

CHUCK EDDY