The responsibilities of success hang heavy over the slower Buffalo. It could be Lapdance revisited: the lyrics – “You better pose for that camera” references to “brainwashing millions” “You will never catch me at none of their fucking shindigs” – imply Tyler’s relationship to fame is as strained as ever.
On opener Deathcamp, all gnashing guitars and jazzy chords, Tyler’s Pharrell-worship continues apace (yes, that was him, head in hands, sobbing at last year’s NERD reunion). It’s a good title for this near-hour’s worth of fizzy sonics and lush eruptions of synths and strings. To that extent, if you like Tyler, you’ll love Cherry Bomb. Which “just” leaves the music and the words, taken at face value. So on Cherry Bomb, what might seem like an unexpurgated splurge of ideas and idiosyncrasies could really be a carefully strategised series of interlinked thoughts pertaining to any number of fictional creations. Some fans posited the theory that subsequent albums Goblin (2011) and Wolf (2013) were part of a trilogy planned all along others argued that the order, according to which clues you deciphered from each album, defied the actual release chronology. Since then, lines have become very blurred.
Bastard seemed like a fairly straight proposition at the time: an attempt to rescue the term “confessional” from acoustic troubadours both male and female – even if it was unclear whether it was Tyler himself confessing, or one of his many alter egos (Wolf Haley, Ace, Tron Cat).
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