If you tell a joke and laugh at it, it’s funny. If you tell a joke and your friend tells it to someone else, it’s good. If you remember a joke for weeks and months after you tell it, it’s no longer a joke, but an exemplary and joyful part of your memory. Thus is the statement of judgment we use for the album Incoming by DC’s saviors of the heavy metal and hard rock heyday, Rattler. If there were a universe that still existed in music where Rattler’s histrionic stage presentation and over the top absurd antics were seen as reality instead of faithful parody, there’s a solid chance that Rattler would at the very least be a one hit wonder. Instead, this is the band that you like in spite of yourself. The dirty secret you share with friends. The moment you keep away from your everyday existence, the fleeting few hours you store away the Ann Taylor loft suit, the sensible black shoes, the starched and pressed shirt and tie, or your slave driven existence in society, and break free. Rattler, in “Gettin’ Awesome,” aren’t so much a way into the rock mindset, but are instead a way out of the typical construct of society, a role they relish, enjoy and on this album escalate to heights not yet seen in their careers.
Clocking in at 10 tracks over 42 thrashing minutes, this release is marked by, in their debut, being the tightest sounding recordings of Rattler’s career. While not at the level of polish of any of the bands they emulate, be DC hardcore, early 80s rock or otherwise, the key here is that their attempts are faithful and intentions great, which does nothing but create a sound with which all are familiar, that creates the obvious desired response. The vocals are punk and raw, and not the finely honed wails and screams of Sammy Hagar or David Coverdale. It adds grit to the band, but for a detractor of their attempt at the sound for which they aim, is an unfortunate truism. But what makes Rattler special is their humor. They are fully aware at literally every second of the album of what they are doing, and take the creative license of their intended goals to make positive steps toward recognition. Rick Rattler’s certainly allowed to be quoted as saying that he will “drink and drive when he can’t even stand” on “Gettin’ Awesome,” just as much as Scott’s allowed to say “fuck your liver, fuck your life, we’re going out tonight” on “Drink and Destroy.” This album is meant to be the best time of your life that you wish you could have every day in an alternative universe. Rattler are the decadent daydreams of a society mired in woeful mediocrity.
The album is almost an ode to the day punk became pop, and to the day when Van Halen’s David Lee Roth’s flying front kick in “Jump” leapt him off the stage, onto MTV and into our homes as a pop icon. The songs are hook driven, straight ahead and an easy listen, as the lyrical content here is so blunt that if you’re not smiling and singing, you’ve missed the point and have no soul. Songs like “Gettin’ Awesome,” “Cocaine Migraine,” and “Shoot to Kill” have an anthemic yet tongue in cheek quality that makes them the stars of the release. The rest of the release is filled with more than capable tunes with uproarious lyrical content, namely “Droppin’ Jager Bombs'” “beer bongs, coke and hoes,” and tales of glowing flourescently from Red Bull consumption. The album’s comic highlight is in closer “Time Travelling,” where Scott Rattler mysteriously ends up in Mexico, and decides to marry young Lupe Garcia. Rick Rattler flashes into action, stops the wedding, young Lupe’s heart is broken, but the brothers Rattler state that they’re not about marraige. Instead, they’re all about “fucking, fighting, black out drinking, and playing the best fucking music in the world!”
Rattler, folks. They’re Incoming. Anchronistic hedonists, your dream is their dream, and for your entertainment, they make it their reality.
3.5 OUT OF FIVE STARS
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