Psychobilly insistigator and legendary frontman of The Meteors Fenech is in stridently straight-talkin’ form on this, solo album numero sixo. Through the putrid nit-picking and bickering of Psycho fans and bands coupled with, and quadrupled by, Fenech’s own abrasive attitude and reputation it’s a situation more akin to Little Richard bleating about being the originator of Rock’n’Roll, set to an East End gangland attitude. Anyway, it’s music we’re here for and any Rocker, Punk, greased up hunk of hep-hair who ain’t down on this is in denial, as the veritable Ray Winstone of Rock’n’Roll sure is one Psycho rockin’ scarecrow, parting friends and enemies, apostles and unbelievers alike, somewhat in the manner of Moses waving a three metre metal bar around. No matter what, in wending down many an alleyway like a cat burglar with a bag reading ‘Swag’ and a sign to show the ladies saying ‘Shag’ this record twists into and out of trouble like a career criminal in a mid-life crisis and is the more rewarding for it. Many people will pick up on the knuckle-dustin’ riposte to the nay-sayers on the title track, but more than that it’s the diversity that is deafening and deals diamonds not back-room duels here - the gothy sinews and Stiv Bators breath of ‘Poison Heart’, the almost late-70’s Johnny Thunders stumbling spaghetti western sleaze of ‘Scarecrow’, the Pogue-riders in the bar shanty of ‘The Hangmans Daughter’ and the deathbed DT’s in a Mexican brothel version of Rockin’ classic ‘Funnel Of Love’ squaring up straight-shouldered to the more usual Meteors fare like ‘3 Minutes To Dead Time’ and ‘(Not) Fuckin Around’ – with a sweetly done smash and grab raid of ‘Radar Love’! But tip-toeing round this merry mayhem with a ballerina’s grace, if not finesse, is the closing ‘Angelsong’ - as sultry a Latino swirl as you’re gonna get out of Stepney. Whatever might be said about the guy over the years due to Meteors myths or manners this is a fine n’ fertile set of rockin’ tunes that shows there’s more sides to this idiosyncratic character than some circles credit. Yours unduly included.

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- Stu Gibson