Although at first glance some may want to write this band off as a simple Nirvana wanna-be (or, perish the thought, another "Bush"), the trio in Skillet are actually adept at creating powerful musical images and inhabiting them with clever, sinewy lyrical collages. The end result is rock n' roll that you turn up loud and then mull over later in quiet time. What makes the record stand out is their unusual choice of metaphors when describing lofty, spiritual concepts: from the sweet grunge-ballad "Saturn" (which finds novel ways to explain the astronomical love of God), to the violent word choices in "Gasoline" (which considers the value of killing the flesh that the soul might be saved), the lyrics are at once unpredictable, yet make their points solidly. Musically, the trio pack a surefire wallop--on several tracks, the three form a driving, rhythmic force, enveloping the listener so closely it's impossible not to sing along when the harmonies kick in. At other times, the trio lends a surprising weight to the few ballads, as well. In all cases, the urgency in John Cooper's voice, his desperate and raspy pleas for salvation, makes him an everyman listeners can easily identify with--and guarantees that not even the "radio friendly" songs will get past the local AC censor. These "ballads" only fit in with AC if you think, say, Soul Asylum. And when the system works, it works very well--some of these songs are impossible to ignore. And, although there are moments on the record where the "grunge wanna-be" tags are impossible to explain away, this self-titled debut surely finds Skillet to be a young band with loads of potential. And they like to rock.