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Hotcakes: Excess All Areas

Mouldy old dough.

Trumpeted as ‘a loving homage to every cock rock album that came before it’ while dismissing Def Leppard as ‘pussies’, Sydney’s Hotcakes struggle to bust down the door with a raging stiffie but forget to wash off the comedy face, their smoothly polished procession of 80s poodle clichés falling flat with unintentional hilarity.

Opening double-header Rockin’ In The Afternoon (!) and Cut To The Chase (Naked Ladies) lead the bad-boy-by-numbers chest-beating of clumsily titled stadium squeakers, interrupted by obligatory ‘sensitive’ outing If Only These Arms Could Hold You, begging the listener to raise a lighter rather than a lob-on.

With the trouser-centric boasts, this sadly desperate relic can only be awarded the ‘Pants’ rating – even mighty Joe Elliott’s old ones after a world tour would be preferable.