DEF LEPPARD >> X. ISLAND RECORDS 2002.

I’m a big man who’s not afraid to own up to my mistakes, so I’ll admit it: in the 80’s, I was the biggest Def Leppard fan you’ve ever seen. For years, I owned every record from their breakout High and Dry to their nine-armed comeback, Hysteria. Then I entered the eighth grade and realized just how kooky they really were.

Over a decade later they’ve returned to molest our aural canals with 13 unlucky tracks of pure suck called X. Honestly, if you ever thought “Photograph” and “Pour Some Sugar on Me” were loads of musical manure, then you’ll be woefully impressed with Def Leppard’s latest stinkpit. It’s not to say they went the route of the BeeGee’s during the return of disco—rehashing the old song’s for the sake of being campy. Instead, they have reinvented themselves as an adult contemporary acoustic act that falls somewhere between Bryan Adams and the music commonly heard when they put you on hold at Sears. It’s bad. Really, really bad. You almost need to hear it yourself just to believe how awful it gets. “I need your kiss, K-I-S-S, that’s what I miss.” Oh, it doesn’t stop there. Ponderously retarded zingers litter this mental petting zoo from start to finish.

And if those lyrics aren’t tired enough for you, look inside the CD jacket. Time has left the boys who once performed “Rock of Ages” into nothing but a gaggle of middle-aged, hermaphroditic Barney Fifes in need of more Botox injections. Yup, it’s official. Every last drop of glamour has been squeezed from this glam-rock relic. - By Eric "Hey, aren't you gonna eat your fat?" Seeger