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It pains me to give any Pantera album anything less than 85, but this just doesn't cut it. I love Pantera and I love glam but this is the bad kind of glam. You know, the kind that you watch, and everyone has fucking make-up all over their faces, the kind that makes you think "Jesus, the hell is Bret Michaels thinking?" Well, this is the kind. Subsequent albums will be a different issue, but it seems that in their first album Pantera really just didn't know what the hell they wanted.
The album begins with the song Ride My Rocket, and has glam's obligatory goofy intro ("In this time of metal magic, we need rock and roll... we need... Pantera!"). It's actually a very good glam song, and has the merit of giving a good start to the album. However, the rest just completely fails. Whether it's the cheesy sexual innuendo of "Tell Me If You Want It," the boring "Rock Out" which just goes nowhere, or the make-you-barf sweetness of "Biggest Part of Me" (no, it's not a song about Terry Glaze's cock), this is just your average glam album, possibly slightly worse. And it truly pains me to say this about a Pantera album, seeing as it is my favorite band of all times.
Why a 60 then? Because it's still not Poison, in all fairness. There's some good stuff on this album. I think that, for example, Ride My Rocket (this one, I'd imagine, actually IS about Glaze's cock) and Widowmaker especially are very good songs that every fan of glam and / or Pantera should know. And anyone who loves glam and grew up with glam can't help but smile when listening to Latest Lover and Nothing On (But the Radio).
In conclusion: I keep this album around mainly out of loyalty to the band. Anyone who holds no such sentiments towards Pantera should go ahead and get the four better tracks mentioned above, and move on to the next albums, those of the 80s and, if you've been living in a hole for the past decade and a half, those that came after them too (and then you might get the reference in this last sentence, too!).