For all intents and purposes, Chrome becomes a duo with this record, even though Gary Spain played bass on a few tracks. But now they have free rein, and in this anything-goes bout they do not compromise a thing. Creed's guitar slash which opens "TV As Eyes" comes ripping through your speakers like a wave of dinosaurs and has to be one of the most hair-raising sounds in music ever, bar none. It's weird to pigeonhole the music here as industrial or any other genre - simply put, I call it "Chrome music" because I have never heard anyone either intentionally sound like this, or do it by accident! Even on the slower tracks there's a desperate, manic sort of tension that's hard to ignore, as if you're trapped in some kind of post-apocalyptic maze with a clock counting down against you. Edge's incessant, trash-can banging which serves as drumming matches perfectly with Creed's angular guitar lines and riffs, which are dastardly dark mood-wise, but nothing at all to do with blues. This is definitely one of those punk/psych documents which not only defies categorization but also manages to elude discovery to this very day. Which makes it a favorite of mine, of course!

The Visitation was a nice record and all but, for real, this is where the Chrome story begins. This was where wacky guitarist Helios Creed entered the group, and was the impetus for a quantum leap forward in all phases. What was once a laidback, California-flavored take on the Hawkwind groove had morphed into a defiant, Stooges-derived snark fest lent further credibility by Creed's lurking presence. His slashing, monolithic passages are not as prominent as they would be on the next record, but certainly, he's a great counterpart for Damon Edge and his wall of drums, samples, and other odd machines. Together they create a sound world that's not for everyone but undoubtedly, stakes a claim apart from everything else going on at that time…or any other time, for that matter.

Don't believe the critics dismissing this one. Mescalero is an hour-plus of unabashed ZZ fun, effortlessly blending local flavor, traditional band hijinks, and other hip sounds you wouldn't believe made it onto a record of theirs in 2003. But Gibbons' guitar is as thick and fuzzy as ever, pulsating through a forest of irreverent material capped off by a cover of "As Time Goes By".

The chaotic but undeniably dynamic figure who led The Deviants through the thick of the 60's had already seen better days by the late 70's. This scenester-backed record both reflects and revels Farren's ever-deteroirating condition, even though the cover smacks of hokey novelties.

I'm not saying the other WASP records leading up to this one aren't good, but I'm not enamored of them as much as others seem to be. However, The Crimson Idol is a different story. Essentially, it's a Blackie Lawless solo album, and it's a rock opera about a reluctant rock star kid. In 1972 this would have been a big deal, but in 1992, it got relegated to Europe. And guess what? Despite all of the potential trappings, it's a fine record - certainly a fresh change from the sex shock material which the group was normally known for. Check it out.