Everything Burns

Being a bad-ass sure ain’t what it used to be. Middle-aged, mid-life crisis types have laid claim to the Harley and punk is now a commercially viable, teen-safe genre. And stuck right between these two poles of socially acceptable rebellion is King Rat’s newest, Everything Burns.

The band’s sixth album is hardly the in-your-face statement that its talk of booze and brawls, rabid Motor City guitar work, and violent, in-the-red production should be—perhaps because after 15 years, the wells of bad-boy inspiration from which King Rat drinks just aren’t that naughty anymore. 

King Rat is also still caught up in those defiant clichés that were stale even back in ’95. “To Rock Is My Role” crashes through a third-generation copy of sleaze perfected by bands like The Gaza Strippers and Supersuckers. “Brooklyn Bridge” and “Not Because” exist mostly to show off the band’s collection of overexposed punk riffs and singer-guitarist Luke Schmaltz’ gravel-and-whiskey vocals (which are admittedly pretty cool). Denver’s seen a lot rowdy punkers spewing dead-end-job desperation and motorcycle exhaust over the years, and King Rat’s take on the genre doesn’t distinguish it from the legion of Mile High junk rockers past and present.

But maybe now that being a bad-ass is becoming a national pastime, acts like King Rat will thrive. After all, somebody has to make music for the hard-drinking generation of wannabe rebels sandwiched between the mall punks and weekend road hogs.