By 1980, Michael Des Barres had every reason to be disappointed. The talented vocalist (who possesses a Rod Stewart-like coarseness) had seen his two previous bands (the glam Silverhead and the Anglo-rockers Detective) go down without much notice from the general public. It's apparent he was itching for a hit with I'm Only Human, but found himself in a commercial no man's land, as disco was dying out and new wave artists were just emerging as Top 40 players. Consequently, he incorporates a variety of styles into his solo debut. Des Barres gets off to a flying start with the hedonistic, 15-second "Intro (The Weekend)," which is quickly followed up by "Baited Breath," a speedy number with a catchy chorus that comes off like a new wave Ramones. For the title cut he fully embraces an electronic sound, yet points out the inhumanity and gloom present in the work of Gary Numan and his ilk. "Right or Wrong" is the most intriguing piece on the album, as Des Barres seems to be shooting for a Berlin-era Bowie vibe. Elsewhere he tries his hand at reggae-pop and disco rhythms, but this eclecticism doesn't always equal great material. "Nothing's Too Hard" follows a long tradition of lame pop ballads, while "Boy Meets Car" is a bombastic attempt at a teen angst anthem that doesn't really go anywhere and "Bullfighter (I'm Not A)" is just plain silly. Backed by a competent session group that includes Nigel Harrison (his old mate in Silverhead and then-bassist for Blondie), who co-wrote many of the tracks with Des Barres, the unit really jells on the punky new wave numbers (specifically "Baited Breath" and the infectious "Dancin' on the Brink of the Disaster"), and it's unsurprising that these are the most exciting songs on the record. One wishes producer Mike Chapman would've noticed and Des Barres had written more material in this vein. "Catch Phrase" and the Elvis Costello-ish "I Don't Have a Thing to Wear" address his desire for that elusive hit and his frustration with a fickle mainstream audience, but ultimately he comes to the healthy realization that it's all futile. Another brief pleasure-seeker, "Outro (Jump in My Car)," wraps up an LP that, like a bumpy ride, is an entertaining trip nonetheless. ~ Bart Bealmear|

Rovi