To name oneself after the Parthenon, the crowning glory of the Greek civilization, is an audacious move for a singer / guitarist making his first album. Taking the surname of Huxley (as in Aldous) is an equally bold stroke. Sunny Nights proves to be as enigmatic as its creator, and as oxymoronic as its title. There are both riddles and resolutions in the lyrics; musically, difficult melodies give way to straight-forward, bone-crunching rock and pleasant, mid-Sixties flavored pop. Somehow, it all coheres into a whale of an interesting album. Huxley employs two very different voices on Sunny Nights. One is a smooth, appealing croon that is used on reassuring, accessible pop songs like "Double Our Numbers" and "Buddha, Buddha." The other is a clenched, Bowie-esque rock voice reesrved for the more obsessive material, such as "Button" and "Guest Host for the Holy Ghost." On the latter, Huxley rears up larger than life, taking Ziggy Stardust and spinning him even faster than David Bowie did on such guitar-driven meltdowns as "Hang On To Yourself." Outwardly, "Guest Host" attacks TV evangelists for their holier-than-thou hypocrises, but it could also be about the messianic complex in rock & roll--an occupational hazard for anyone who has a guitar to pose with, an amp to magnify his proclamations, and an audience to swallow it all as gospel.

Taken as a whole, Sunny Nights is about working out difficult personal dichotomies--ambition vs. humility, arrogance vs. vulnerability, self-sufficiency vs. the need to be loved. The album traces a circular orbit around the emotions, winding up (with "Don't Worry") close to where it began ("Chance To Be Loved")--the difference being that a universal truth has also become a personal one. Along the way, Huxley offers plenty of vigorous, hook-laden pop, notably "Something In My Heart Stopped" and the absurdly catchy "Buddha, Buddha."

Overflowing with songwriting smarts, good guitar work and a big, discernable beat, Sunny Nights is a monumental debut.

BACK TO REVIEWS AND PRESS...