Thirty years ago the band who defined the 80’s Los Angeles glam metal sound, often derisively dubbed hair metal, Mötley Crüe, released arguably their magnum opus, Dr Feelgood.

Released following arguably the most tumultuous period of their career where they hit commercial highs and personal lows aplenty, highlighted by the death (and then resurrection) of bassist and band leader Nikki Sixx, their fifth album was written and recorded in a rare break into sobriety and relative contemplation — though it was to become the last full album by the band’s classic line up for the better part of a decade (and the last one worth listening to for nearly two decades).

Intro T.n.T (Terror in Tinseltown) and the title track kick things off with a bang and make a solid statement that, while this is still glam rock, it’s got a harder edge than most that was emerging at the time. This feels like a re-stating Crüe’s credentials and, thanks to the guitar of Mick Mars, makes the point that this band certainly kept one food firmly in metal while their peers increasingly veered into softer territory.

This opening salvo also paints a picture of the ‘other side’ of Hollywood that the band not only made their name in but, in the case of Sixx at least, they still generally inhabited as sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll were the band’s main reputation.

From there it mixes ‘single entendre and proud’ (to quote Terry Pratchett) tales of excess (Slice Of Your Pie, Sticky Sweet, She Goes Down) with others of a comparatively more advanced scope.

Highlights largely come with the singles released off the album (all five of them as record label Electra clearly looked to capitalise on the peak in both commercial and critical response to the band).

For my money these definitely include the title track, Sixx’s contemplation on his near death experience Kickstart My Heart along with their collective exploration of their personal relationships with women (or at least that’s what it comes across as), Same Old Situation (S.O.S.).

While the subject matter may rarely be either big or clever, main lyricist Sixx does demonstrate an ear for a decent phrase and the songs are some of the catchiest and most engaging of the band’s career with a far higher hit rate than their albums before or since.

Production on the record was handled by Bob Rock who does an astonishing job in combining a live feel with bucket loads of studio sheen and making the band sound as huge as both their egos and their live shows would have you believe.

Particularly impressive are the way he makes Mars’ guitars sound as well as the enormous tone he gets out of Tommy Lee’s drums while Vince Neil’s vocals sound better than ever did before or since.

On top of all of this he makes this surprisingly heavy band have a pop edge that clearly translated when the album was released as it has gone on to sell more than six million copies (as well as attracting the ear of Metallica’s Lars Ulrich – for better or worse).

The whole thing ends on the rather too syrupy Time For A Change but before that it feels like something of a last hurrah for unashamed pop metal before the advent of the grunge and alternative rock and metal of the 1990s (something which also consumed Crüe for the next decade or so).

While it contains its share of ‘filler’ it remains, for me, Crüe’s strongest complete album and is highlighted by a great mix of darker and edgier content with a big, bold and brash pop metal sound custom made to fill arenas and create mega stars.

Unfortunately the ongoing circus of Mötley failed to capitalise on this as they once again collapsed into a debauched world of all the things rock ’n’ roll band’s can do causing the band to teeter on the edge for the best part of two decades before a final run as nostalgic giants until they called it a day (as a live band) in 2015 and went into full on nostalgia territory with the 2019 biopic The Dirt.