What's changed since Bon Hoki sped up his voice to hit the high notes on Livin' On a Prayer in 1986? Well, the lad and his band are using new haircare products, all posey like Reservoir Dogs with hundred dollar bouffants and holstered water pistols. Pinch yourself if you expected Crush would be anything other than Slippery When Wet, Version 8.1 - underachieving teeny-bop pop metal with heavy investments in dream date posturing and a bit of moldered bread crust for lyrical and musical development. Rife with simpleton observations (It's My Life, Just Older) and grade school rhyme schemes scotch-taped with a hamfist, this is negligent evolution at it's most patronizingly ignorable. The harmonies are a study in gobbledy vocal tricks, a wad of gimped and fussed-over enthusiasm for a textbook of unabashed chintz sentiments nicked arrantly from a Barbie colouring book (Thank You For Loving Me, I Got the Girl, She's a Mystery). The rest is just-add-water puff rock; imagineless chungling boom bam for everyone but dreamy-eyed, teddy bear-hugging Teen Beat girlies and beer-blitzed white boys cruising in Billy Joe Jim Bob's bondo'ed Trans Am on Main Street, Popcorntown, U.S.A. Give the trophy though to Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen From Mars, now officially the stupidest song title in the history of rock.