Sound — 9
Let's get right to it: The first Guns n' Roses album of new, original songs since the first Bush administration is a great, audacious, unhinged and uncompromising hard-rock record. In other words, it sounds a lot like the Guns n' Roses you know. At times, it's the clenched-fist five that made 1987's perfect storm, Appetite for Destruction; more often, it's the one sprawled across the maxed-out CDs of 1991's Use Your Illusion I and II, but here compressed into a convulsive single disc of supershred guitars, orchestral fanfares, hip-hop electronics, metallic tabernacle choirs and Axl Rose's still-virile, rusted-siren singing. If Rose ever had a moment's doubt or repentance over what Chinese Democracy has cost him in time (13 years), money (14 studios are listed in the credits) and body count including the exit of every other founding member of the band he left no room for it in these 14 songs. "I bet you think I'm doin' this all for my health," Rose cracks through the saturation-bombing guitars in "I.R.S.," one of several glancing references on the album to what he knows a lot of people think of him: that Rose, now 46, has spent the last third of his life running off the rails, in half-light. But when he snaps, "All things are possible/I am unstoppable," in the thumper "Scraped," that's not loony hubris just a good old rock & roll "f--k you," the kind that made him and the old band hot and famous in the first place. Something else Rose broadcasts over and over on Chinese Democracy: Restraint is for suckers. There is plenty of familiar guitar firepower the stabbing-dagger lick that opens the first track, "Chinese Democracy," the sand-devil fuzz in "Riad N' the Bedouins" and the looping squeals over the grand anguish of "Street of Dreams." But what Slash and Izzy Stradlin used to do with two guitars now takes a wall of 'em. On some tracks, Rose has up to five guys Robin Finck, Buckethead, Paul Tobias, Ron "Bumblefoot" Thal and Richard Fortus riffing and soloing in broad, saw-toothed blurs. And that's no drag. I still think the wild, superstuffed "Oh My God" the early Chinese Democracy track wasted on the 1999 End of Days soundtrack beats everything on Guns n' Roses' 1993 covers album, The Spaghetti Incident? Most of these songs also go through multiple U-turns in personality, as if Rose kept trying new approaches to a hook or a bridge and then decided, "What the hell, they're all cool." "Better" starts with what sounds like hip-hop voicemail severely pinched guitar, drum machine and a near-falsetto Rose ("No one ever told me when/I was alone/They just thought I'd know better") before blowing up into vintage Sunset Strip wallop. "If the World" has Buckethead plucking acoustic Spanish guitar over a blaxploitation-film groove, while Rose shows that he still holds a long-breath vowel part torture victim, part screaming jet like no other rock singer. And there is so much going on in "There Was a Time" strings and Mellotron, a full-strength choir and Rose's overdubbed sour-growl harmonies, wah-wah guitar and a false ending (more choir) that it's easy to believe Rose spent most of the past decade on that arrangement alone. But it is never a mess, more like a loud mass of bad memories and hard lessons. In the first lines, Rose goes back to a beginning much like his own "Broken glass and cigarettes/ Writin' on the wall/It was a bargain for the summer/An' I thought I had it all" then piles on the wreckage along with the orchestra and guitars. By the end, it's one big melt of missing and kiss-off ("If I could go back in time... But I don't want to know it now"). If this is the Guns n' Roses that Rose kept hearing in his head all this time, it is obvious why two guitars, bass and drums were never going to be enough. It is plain, too, that he thinks this Guns n' Roses is a band, as much as the one that recorded "Welcome to the Jungle," "Sweet Child O' Mine," "Used to Love Her" and "Civil War." The voluminous credits that come with Chinese Democracy certainly give detailed credit where it is due. My favorite: "Initial arrangement suggestions: Youth on 'Madagascar." Rose takes the big one "Lyrics N' Melodies by Axl Rose" but shares full-song bylines with other players on all but one track. Bassist Tommy Stinson plays on nearly every song, and keyboardist Dizzy Reed, the only survivor from the Illusion lineup, does the Elton John-style piano honors on "Street of Dreams." But Rose still sings a lot about the power of sheer, solitary will even when he throws himself into a bigger fight, like "Chinese Democracy." In "Madagascar," which Rose has played live for several years now, he samples both Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech and dialogue from Cool Hand Luke. And at the end of the album, on the bluntly titled "Prostitute," Rose veers from an almost conversational tenor, over a ticking-bomb shuffle, to five-guitar barrage, orchestral lightning and righteous howl: "Ask yourself/Why I would choose/To prostitute myself/To live with fortune and shame." To him, the long march to Chinese Democracy was not about paranoia and control. It was about saying "I won't" when everyone else insisted, "You must." You may debate whether any rock record is worth that extreme self-indulgence. Actually, the most rock & roll thing about Chinese Democracy is he doesn't care if you do.
Lyrics — 10
hings kick off with the title track. Already heavily previewed on radio, it opens with a montage of sirens and Chinese dialogue before bursting into life with a riff of speaker-endangering proportions and Rose's trademark falsetto squeal.It's followed by the pounding Shackler's Revenge, whose heavily distorted guitar shows Rose has been paying attention to the innovations of Tom Morello and Matt Bellamy. Several of the songs have been previewed in concert over the last five years. In just three and a half minutes, it shoots off in hundreds of different directions, encompassing growled, paranoiac verses, off-kilter digital squeals and an anthemic chorus. This is a trick that Rose repeats over and over on Chinese Democracy. Almost all the tracks have a scattergun approach to song structure, incorporating a vast array of movements, themes and motifs. Along the way, we get choirs, brass bands, hip-hop beats, mellotrons, found sounds, pulsing synths, film samples and something rather ominously called "sub bass". The credit list for one song - the Bond theme-esque There Was A Time - runs to 33 lines on the CD booklet. A total of six people play guitar on the track. Two of them get solos. It is a long way from the scrappy garage band formed in Los Angeles three decades ago. What's surprising, however, is that the songs survive intact despite this surfeit of ideas and contributors. By rights, Chinese Democracy should have been an unholy mess. But Rose seems to have learned his lesson after the sprawling self-indulgence of 1991's Use Your Illusion. Songs like IRS and Raid N' The Bedouins are lean and compact, edited down to the bare essentials, packing the maximum punch per pound. But, let's be clear, this is by no means the equal of the 28 million-selling Appetite For Destruction, nor does it contain anything as radio friendly as Paradise City or November Rain. Indeed, if initial reactions are positive, that's partly because expectations were so low after the record's troubled gestation. On the downside, there is a surfeit of cheesy ballads, beginning with the terribly overwrought Street Of Dreams. The opening piano chords bring to mind nothing more than Sir Elton John, while Rose oversings lines about "stardust on my feet" in a voice that would make an X Factor auditionee cringe. Sorry, another break-up song, aims for grandiose but ends up sounding ridiculous - like Pink Floyd covered by Metallica. And, for all of it's ambitious bombast, there's no disguising the fact that There Was A Time veers dangerously close to becoming Bon Jovi's Blaze Of Glory.
Overall Impression — 10
Rose has already predicted the reaction to these songs. "I'm trying to do something different," he told Rolling Stone in 2006. "Some of the arrangements are kind of like Queen. Some people are going to say it doesn't sound like Guns N' Roses." Actually, he's wrong about that. This does sound like a Guns N' Roses album, but it's a sadly compromised one. The filthy swagger is gone - perhaps understandable now that Rose is 46. But Chinese Democracy also misses the clean, tuneful riffs that Slash and Izzy Stradlin used to provide. Too often, guitar lines sound like technical exercises - fingers running up and down the fretboard at the expense of melody. And when several songs plump for "na na na" backing vocals, you find yourself wondering why no-one had time to finish off the lyrics. Ultimately, however, there is nothing here that will irrevocably tarnish the Guns N' Roses name. Had it come out directly after the band's last album, 1993's The Spaghetti Incident?, it would have been hailed as a triumphant return to form. Or - just perhaps - it would have been branded irrelevant in a world where grunge, hip-hop and industrial rock were in the ascendancy. In 2008, the cogs of the musical world have turned full circle, and Axl Rose has released his long-awaited opus just as games like Guitar Hero and Rock Band (which features Shackler's Revenge on it's tracklisting) bring hard rock back into people's living rooms. All the heartache was worth it.