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Butch Walker | The Rise and Fall of | review | rock | Lollipop

Butch Walker and the Let's-Go-Out-Tonites

The Rise and Fall of... (Epic/One Haven/Red Ink)
by Ewan Wadharmi

Two things happened when Bowie met up with John Lennon in 1975 in a secret enclave, the most well-known is the Gawdawful funk-disco embarassment "Fame." The lesser-known product of their rendezvous is their love-child, Butch Walker. He's got Lennon's voice and pop prowess, and Bowie's glam-inflected sleaze quotient. Walker's stint in Marvelous 3 never gave a glimpse at his ability to turn a phrase: "A franchise of bands/ as fake as the X's Sharpied on their hands/ he was bitter as the smell of a magazine review." As expected with the T Rex Bolinisms and Gary Glitterati, much of Rise and Fall is devoted to the excesses of L.A. red-ropers and 1st through 3rd person accounts of trust fund casualties masked as cautionary tales. In truth, though, they merely magnify the glamour of failed starlets to the level of the Black Dahlia. Amidst the debauchery, however, are tender moments like "Dominoes," which beautifully recounts an elderly widower's late wife. Familiar but fresh, Walker's take on '70s androgynous rock is authentic and satisfying. Immaculate production, thanks to his own day job working with crap acts like Pink and Lindsay Lohan, Walker's moonlighting gig is the real deal.


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