Unlike the previous album, with its pockets of art rock and Adam's Apples and whatnot, Rocks does not play around one iota. All competitors are officially outclassed, outmatched, out-muscled, and outmoded at every turn. Nowhere is the band’s sky-high confidence better expressed than on the first two tracks - the ultimate sexual swagger and total maelstrom of "Back in the Saddle", followed by the mesmerizing "Last Child", with its slight touch of ballad-fantasy which plunges into its' funk-influenced, strutting main section. So, the only question left remaining was - how long could they keep the up the junkie high-wire act, and continue with the great material, or - when was the crash going to happen? Well...stay tuned.