Saints Of Los Angeles : Motley Crue : Review : Rolling Stone

All the filth and fury of their Eighties heyday, finally funneled into an album Mötley Cüe have created a cottage industry out of rehashing their excesses: Their tales of debauchery have already fueled dozens of books and a standard-bearing episode of Behind the Music. Now they've woven those stories into their first album in eight years. Inspired by their 2001 sleazeography, The Dirt, Saints of Los Angeles finds Vince Neil flashing back to the band's golden age: gigging on the Sunset Strip, snorting powders, screwing the wrong girls and (later) filing lawsuits (the band sued its former manager last year). The trip down memory lane helps the Crüe connect to their old sound: Much of Saints rocks with the same raucous fun as their Eighties albums, delivering glam guitars and arena-size choruses on cuts like the wickedly catchy "Down at the Whisky." Contemporary radio rock creeps in on the angsty Staind-style ballad "The Animal in Me," which seems to concern Nikki Sixx's heroin addiction. But to show they're still bad boys and horndogs at heart, they also deliver the teenage-rebellion anthems "Face Down in the Dirt" and "This Ain't a Love Song" (second part of chorus: "This is a fuck song"). Fun fact: As of press time, all four members of Mötley Cüe are still alive.