(As published in the Times of Acadiana ... )
Tommy Lee’s gone, like his ex-wife and her implants, and so is Bob Rock, the only producer ever to justify the taking up of studio time (not to mention the breathing of air) by these professional sleaze bags. So why does this comeback, with the exception of the embarrassing title ballad, make for a hotter-than-average rallying of the faithful? Well, first, Vince Neil sings less annoyingly now than he used to (I know, it would’ve been hard for him to sing more annoyingly, but still); second, Mick Mars can finally play guitar; and, third, the melodies and hooks that Neil, Mars, and Nikki Sixx have been stockpiling lo these many years are pretty good ones. Mostly, though, one senses that the group has benefited from sticking to the topics it knows best: slatterns, cyberporn, being treated like dogs by bitches, getting punched in the teeth by love, and sympathizing with white punks on dope. Rating: Three kickstarted hearts out of five.