Magnum - Into the Valley of the Moonking [Album]
 

Remember arena rock in the 80's? Big hair, tight pants, the days when a non-ironic falsetto was generally accepted as hardcore. Down a multi-tiered stage in 1985 strides Bob Catley of Magnum. Cocky and resplendent in torn denim and a leather trench coat. His warbled vibrato pelting out the chorus to "Just Like an Arrow". "It goes deep my love only for you. Lust like an arrow. Straight to your heart." Man, I bet dudes were pissed at how much their girlfriends wanted to fuck those cucumber-smuggling douche-bags. "Yeah, I like Magnum too Tina, but I love you baby. What do you mean you want to hump 'em?"

Flash forward twenty four years. Tina and Bob Catley's bastard lovechild is in jail for raping a senior citizen, again, and Magnum's still cranking out the cheese. Seriously, has Magnum's sound grown at all? Alright, "Into the Valley of the Moonking" stands apart from earlier albums like "On a Storytellers Night" or "Chase the Dragon". Namely in that Magnum's lyrics have taken a sharp nostalgic turn. I guess when the Rogaine and the prostate exams start coming hard and fast, you begin to think about the past. A lot. In the song "All My Bridges" Catley let's us know, "All my bridges are broken. My direction is lost. Yesterday's caught in the past. Yeah, I'm stuck and I can't get across."

Like any good arena-prog rockers, Magnum's music itself is completely nonthreatening. It offers no challenge to the audience and no real vision. The distorted guitars are reverberated out heavily enough to kill their bite. The drumming is solid, but pocketed, never giving any diversity, The keyboardist could be playing a Casio at a wedding. The bass could be replaced with an octave pedal.

Magnum formed in 1972 to be the house band at The Rum Runner nightclub. Magnum's entire history has revolved around pleasing unimaginative drunks. It's contrived. Hey, no disrespect to The Rum Runner, which also showcased David Bowie, Roxy Music, and Duran Duran. Just saying, they all didn't form to play regular gigs at one bar, dig?

Look, this isn't a wistful reinterpretation of arena or prog rock. This isn't a sound coming back. This is a sound that refuses to die. This is zombie rock, appealing to an audience of the aging cool. Their glory shot. A mumbling human sea of "Remember When's" and "This One Time" dragging their poor children along to show them the folks are still hip. Magnum should let go with some dignity. Save some grace. Start that garden they've aways been talking about. Read those books they've been waiting to get to. Spend some time with their grand kids. Oh and good luck on the release of "Into the Valley of the Moonking"!