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DESTROYER TRACK-BY-TRACK

From page 45 of Classic Rock Magazine June 2006

Cover of June 2006 issue.

Detroit Rock City

In grey, grisly, punk-obsessed Great Britain, it’s impossible to over estimate the impact this track had on the country’s beleaguered rock’n’roll

populace in 1976. DRC is a massive

cinematic experience that transports you headlong into Motown’s seething, heaving bowels, where larger-than-life US rawk rules supreme... and multiple car crashes are commonplace. Get up, get down – and get with it.

King Of The Night Time World

Great, lumbering menace on the grandest of scales. Like a rusting Iron Giant crashing through a forest of Canadian Redwoods at midnight, and the ultimate Xenon turn-on for any budding headlight queen.

God Of Thunder Despite this being so closely associated with Gene Simmons, it’s a Paul Stanley composition. Reminiscent of a stalking, apocalyptic horror movie – and those are producer Bob Ezrin’s kids making the squeaky Exorcist noises in the background.

Great Expectations

The intensity ebbs a little with this massive choral workout bolstered by the wholesome presence of the Brooklyn Boys’ Choir.

Flaming Youth Titled after a band Kiss supported in their very early days. A stumblesome anthem made all the more compulsive by the sound of a cheesy, pulsing fairground organ. Who can resist a song that rhymes ‘my uniform is leather’ with ‘getting it together’ ?

Sweet Pain

Characterised by an archetypal clumsy Ace Frehley guitar riff. But hang on a minute – isn’t that Dick Wagner doin’ the solo?

Shout It Out Loud

What more is there to say? This is party-hard 1970s American boozin’ moozik personified.

Beth Simmons and Stanley didn’t want this wafty ballad on the album. Thank God they relented because its hitsingle status rescued Destroyer from the doldrums. And whaddya know, Peter Criss puts in a vocal performance full of tremulous emotion.

Do You Love Me Containing the biggest ‘BUT!’ in rock’n’roll history and a clattering opening drum sound to die for. A pleading paean for wimmin to look beyond the superficial rock-star trappings of seven-inch leather heels, credit cards, private planes, etc. Not that the band were actually bothered in the slightest. A classic closer to a consummate album.