The Grande Machine

Minneapolis rock die-hards The Grande Machine lay down fiery, growling
electric riffs with all the pure-dee joy and bad-a$$ 'tude of Bon
Scott-era AC/DC, the first blush blast-off of The Darkness, and the
balls-to-the-wall, devil-may-care output of local musical compadres
The Midnight Evils.

Their absolutely slashing self-titled debut is packed to the brim with
one speaker-blower after another, kicking off with the bouncy,
top-down cruiser nugget "Sweet Tea," and the band simply doesn't let
up from there on out. "Wild In The Street" is about as far from Bruce
Springsteen as you're gonna get- coming off more like a Short Fuses
outtake with male vocals, "Comin' To Me" slices, dices, and destroys
any of those namby-pamby, irony-laden faux rock bullshitters who've
attempted to raise eyebrows and cause earplugs to melt in local clubs
over the past five years, and "Super Fine Love" sounds like Slade
taking Quiet Riot to a special session in the principle's office at
the Official School Of Rock.

TGM's twin-guitar assault gives them ample power-age to balance
bad-boy vocal howls with a note-perfect rhythm section- nobody hogs
the ball here, as evidenced by the too-short blaster "Hot Legs,"
wherein said drums n' bass provide the song's undeniable
dance-ability- that is, if there are any heterosexual male Minnesotans
who are physically capable of moving any body parts below their chest.


"All The Love" finds the band delving into some punk-inflected
rabble-rousing, sounding more like a live "X" track than anything a
'70's metal band might have released, "Double Down" chugs, smokes, and
wriggles about like a junkie caught in a speed-induced psychotic
episode, "Nightmare" begs you to physically crank the volume knob to
"11" and RIP IT OFF, and "Mess I'm In" is a skittery, stomping salute
to the after-effects of a long but barely-remembered night of
debauchery.

The album winds down with a pair of memorable anthems- "My Generation"
takes that title back from The Who and slaps some intelligent lyrics
onto a keening, buzz-bomb of a cut, and "Alien Legion" is laden with
oddball effects (shades of Billy Thorpe's "Children Of The Sun?") and
a hint of what may lie ahead for this ballsy, go-for-the-throat band
of rock n' roll rebels.

I can brag all day about this record- but until you slap it into your
player (preferably on a hot, sunny summer day with all your windows
rolled down as you cruise Franklin Avenue or St. Paul's East Side-
they could use a bit of this wondrous racket there!) and find yourself
playing it nine times in a row yourself, you're not really gonna get
it.
Tom Hallett - Around The Dial

The Grande Machine (Zero Budget)

"Glam Without Eyeliner"

Looks are important to Glam Rockers. Listening to the Grande Machine's nosebleed-level maximum energy glam slam, you might expect them to look like an explosion in a leopard-print fabric factory that has been doused with mascara. Amazingly, the pictures make them look like four guys from your IT department playing at a wedding, which, in a way, is far more intriguing than if they'd just come straight from Motley Crue school. A lot of the initial reviews have little variation on "Slade meet the New York Dolls...." and we're going to go with the flow here and sing along with that particular chorus. Songs like Wild in the Street and All the Love are timeless glam nuggets that would have done everyone from The Stooges in 73 or The Dictators in 77, or The Wildhearts in 91 or The Hellacopters yesterday proud. One listen to this and you know that one day this band will play the best gig you'll ever see.

(7 of 10 stars) Tommy Udo - Classic Rock Magazine