No Need To Pray For Sixx A.M....They Have Their Shit Together

Sixx A.M. employs no small measure of theatrics to foist "Prayers For The Damned" upon us. From the start vocalist James Michel gets to the previously impenetrable truths about how second chances loom large in the healing of our pasts and the hoped for revival of our futures. The overall instrumentation flies from the convulsing pit, ready to attack the sensitive spots of your psyche. I applaud Dustin Steinke for his otherworldly drumming. His head of steam trumps that of the runner-up contenders. Listen to his multiple strokes piled one on top of the other and you'll discover that Nikki Sixx knows how to bring high talent into the fold. James Michel employs his own brand of sorcery on keyboards. He brings lightning to complement Dustin's thunder. As a one two punch you'd be forgiven if your eyes were to roll back in your head a shade. The bluster cannot be denied. You're in a corner with nobody there to free you from the mire. Storms are brewing and you forgot to get your umbrella to give you any hope of shelter. The skies ply their dark gray menace. Nikki further unsettles the situation via a bass onslaught that isn't out to play nice. Lyric hint at end of the rope territory. James appears set to allow the fast drop to oblivion to consume him body and soul. Hope resides in his claim that maybe we're not alone. Many a person, deeply spiritual or otherwise has held fast to that hope in the ages past. We by and large sympathize with being afraid of our own ghosts. Ghosts from the past are the price of admission on this mysterious trip around the sun we all undertake, wanting to get somewhere but ending up nowhere fast. Later in the word sheet James already cottons to a nothing to lose attitude since he has already lost everything. "Prayers For The Damned" sounds like the hail-mary pass a desperate QB would throw up with one second left. I don't mean that in a derogatory way either. That football play commands attention. All eyes are on the pigskin slinger as he tries to bail his butt out of a sling. James succeeds in not overselling the pain he's combating. All you need is a touch of spice and the soup has the fire necessary to work its way to the top of the request list. Let's talk smoldering guitar solo shall we? DJ Ashba pulls off the equivalent of being prone on a massage table letting the masseuse work his magic hands up and down the pressure points. The wider his demonic instincts stretch, the greater the vicarious thrill we share. Make no mistake though...this is James' therapy session and we have backstage laminated passes as proof. "Prayers For The Damned" specializes in keeping us off balance. That makes us ready candidates for the doctrine James wants us to heed. We do crave the chance to pull James away from the cumulative effects of his chasm of despair. Alas, all we can do is hope the rain lets up in short order. However I'm not begging for the tap to shut off too soon. "Prayers For The Damned" reaches deep and pulls out an explosive style of pathos that's hard to shake, harder to deny. Sixx A.M. can happily get up from the altar rail. This is one prayer worth an enthusiastic response.