Axl Rose spent a fortune in litigation fees suing a guy who leaked these songs on the web. Ironic, right? If the Cornrowed One had released this thing on schedule, he could have sidestepped online piracy altogether. You can't have an "Internet leak" without the Internet.
Guns N' Roses' long awaited grand opus, from its first bombastic chords, sounds very much like it took 14 years to make. It's intricate and dense, aiming with each note for new direction. "Shackler's Revenge," for instance, is all over the place - a god-awful industrial dirge with awkward "is-this-the-same-song?" transitions turned thrilling arena rocker with a stadium-long chorus.
The punk flourishes of yesteryear have all but vanished as have the good time Sunset Strip rock 'n' rollers. In their place is a string of soaring mid-tempo anthems interspersed with meathead nu metal. Though some songs, barring the aforementioned "Shackler's Revenge," uniformly tank, many others ("Street of Dreams," "Better") are top-notch vehicles for unhinged guitar heroics and an ageless yowl.
The album's best moments, though, are the ones that cut theatrics in favor of to-the-point rock music. "Sorry" works as a tuneful lament, but the pick of the no-frills lot goes to "I.R.S.," which pits Buckethead's gnarled guitar freakouts against Rose's most range-defying delivery.
Are these moments worth the wait? In a sidetracked lecture, one of my political science professors spent a good 10 minutes likening this album to "a beautifully grotesque animal at the fair," finally concluding that it is "deplorable." So probably not. Yet this kind of grave-digging touches on the relative magnitude of GN'R - the politics of the welfare state had to wait.
Dr. Pepper weighed in as well, promising free soda if the music dropped before the ball dropped in New York. Even President Hu Jintao, attempting to capitalize on GN'R's first entry in 17 years, briefly attempted democracy in China.
Given the buzz, then, perhaps the biggest sin of "Chinese Democracy" is that it's not the Tower of Babel or the Titanic. Unmitigated disaster would've at least guaranteed this record an enduring legacy. Instead, "Chinese Democracy," veiled in mystery, half-truths and legend, is actually pretty good. Just pretty good.
It's a hell of a way to go: Our last and greatest overconfident torchbearer, possessor of the banshee scream, ushers out the Era of Rock 'n Roll Excess in a whimper of so-so reviews, petering SoundScan figures and gimmicky Best Buy exclusives. Now that's irony.
