Motley Crue

When veteran groups release albums long after their commercial prime, the CDs are routinely described as new. But this last word usually belongs in quotes — a point proven by Saints of Los Angeles, the most recent platter by Mötley Crüe, joined at Fiddler’s by Buckcherry, Papa Roach, SIXX:AM (Nikki Sixx’s other group) and Trapt. The disc’s sound consciously evokes the nasty grind of the hair-metal era, and that’s fine — better that than playing riff rock over faux-Timbaland rhythms. Lyrically, though, the tunes tend toward tedious nostalgia for the good ol’ days: “What’s It Gonna Take” is dominated by images of girls doing powder on the Sunset Strip and label reps insisting that the Crüe will never write a hit, while “Down at the Whisky” pivots on the treacly hook “Do you remember when?” In fact, a lot of us do — and back in the day, such misty-eyed sentimentality would have been roundly ridiculed. Which remains a damn good idea.