There is nothing here of what made John Mellencamp to superstardom in the 80s. No Lisa Germano on violin. No Kenny Aronoff on drums. No grand, rustic heartland rock about Pink Houses where a black man with a black cat has an interstate running through his front yard. No loud protest song like "Rain On The Scarecrow" where Mellencamp stood with his feet wide apart between Woody Guthrie and The Rolling Stones.
The head flutters frantically behind the cymbals with stands swinging. Slayer-rolling cycles blare over the toms. The power of the battles are so compelling that every little millimeter on the drums must be his worst enemy. We love to designate things as the world's best guitarist. We assign hDave Grohl the universe's toughest drummer here and now instead.