Sunset Strip’s gleefully crude, spandex-swaddled jokesters kick out the plugs for a stripped-down acoustic set filmed before an intimate crowd of 50 boozed-up, scantily clad women.
By this point, everybody understands the setup – these would-be hair metal refugees from 1985 are actually the drug-enthusing, hyper-sexualised alter-egos of four immensely gifted musicians predisposed towards glammy party anthems with lyrics so sophomoric that AC/DC’s Brian Johnson sounds like Walt Whitman. Absent layers of studio wizardry, the dozen tracks translate well unplugged, showcasing the addictive chord progressions that invest Steel Panther’s sound with such earwormish vitality. Gloryhole, Party Like Tomorrow Is The End Of The World and Grindy And Sexy surge with thick, bluesy riffs and a back porch informality that avoids meandering jam room excess.
Comic vignettes between songs largely miss, save for a Reservoir Dogs-style bit about a pizza delivery gone wrong, but even without a wall of amps, Death To All But Metal is still a cast-iron belter.
At just over an hour, Live From Lexxi’s Mom’s Garage offers both a breezy diversion and a pointed reminder that Steel Panther are anything but one-trick ponies.