Antenna

ZZ Top “Antenna” (RCA)

AFTER THE synthesiser adventures of the eighties, ZZ Top fall into line with current political philosophy and get back to basics.

Unlike John Major, though, the decision to jettison more progressive thinking in favour of recapturing former glories isn’t one of cheap expediency but a genuine desire to plug in, crank it up and belt out some no frills, original recipe Southern Fried Boogie.

Having given the grand order of the cowboy-boot to the hi-tech embellishments that dominated Eliminator and Recycler, the band dig deep into their past and come up with an album that at times sounds alarmingly similar to their earliest efforts such as Rio Grande Mud and Fandango.

Unless you’ve lead a particularly sheltered life, you should know the deal by now. Juicy metallic riffs, vocals from the Planet Jack Daniel’s and a pervasive sense of blues laziness are the staple ingredients in the ZZ Top jambalaya and although there’s the odd moment of stodginess – ‘Fuzzbox Voodoo’ and ‘Cover Your Rig’, go stand in the corner – on the whole, the fare is pretty appetising.

Lead single ‘Pincushion’ provides an accurate barometer for the rest of the LP, a mid-paced redneck stomper which offers little in the way of surprises but scores highly in the foot-tapping, head-nodding and singing-in-the-bath departments.

‘World Of Swirl’, ‘Cherry Red’ and ‘Deal Goin’ Down’ – which shamelessly nicks its opening five seconds from ‘Pride (In The Name Of Love)’ – slip into the same formulaic groove, more radio-friendly than a new set of Duracells but hardly the sort of stuff that’s going to make believers out of the unconverted.

ZZ Top have also gotten into the habit of self-plagiarism. Speed ‘Lizard Life’ up a tad, change round the words a bit and, hey presto, you’ve got yourself ‘Gimme All Your Lovin’’. Similarly, ‘Breakaway’ is a dead ringer for ‘Rough Boy’ and there’s definitely something incestuous going on between ‘Antenna Head’ and the immortal ‘Tush’.

While eminently capable of knocking-out a decent ballad, ZZ Top really come into their own when they let their beards down and indulge in some serious rocking. The obscurely titled ‘PCH’ – a band in-joke, apparently – is the only occasion on Antenna when the trio give it full throttle and the fact that it’s the best track on the album by a mile suggests that next time they’re in the studio, someone ought to surreptitiously spike the water cooler with sulphate.

As dear old Mr. Major is currently finding out, ‘back to basics’ has its pitfalls. In ZZ Top’s case, it makes for an okay stop-gap but unless they want to degenerate into some sort of an American Status Quo, they’re going to have to come up with a few fresh angles.

• Stuart Clark