Tremonti - Leave It Alone

Heaven knows I love a good solo project, non-euphemistically speaking. Ozzy Osbourne striking out with big, heavy metal energy post-Sabbath, the utterly anthemic raw edge of Joan Jett after the Blackhearts, and Slash starting about sixty-five different bands with some snake imagery involved somewhere after he left that other band whose name escapes me momentarily. The list goes on, and while no act is really defined by only one person, a lot of big names really only make it big when it’s only their name that’s big. 

It’s a little hard to miss his involvement in proceedings, given his name is on the cover and everything, but there’s a lot of praise that doesn’t seem to go the way of Mark Tremonti in those lists. While he’s always going to be known by association for his two main projects in Creed and Alter Bridge, Tremonti (the man) has helmed Tremonti (the band) for thirteen years and five studio albums now, each one a slice of the man’s guitar, vocal, and songwriting talents. Of course, the revolving door of ex-Creed and Alter Bridge members that make up the band at various points contributes to that, but it is fully held together by the man himself, and he seriously does not get nearly as much attention as he deserves. When was the last time you heard a Tremonti song on the radio? Not recently enough, I’m willing to bet. 

If you’re a fan of Alter Bridge or Creed, you’re going to enjoy Leave It Alone. But if you’re a fan of heavy metal in general, you’re going to enjoy it just as much. It’s loud and brash in that very specific late 2000’s and beyond way, but it absolutely oozes with the sort of rhythmic charm and low-end good stuff that Mark the man brings to the Tremonti man band. Plus, the solo is worth a few listens on its own, it’s a heater. If you weren’t aware of Tremonti (the man or the band) before - congratulations! You are now, and I imagine are far richer for doing so through our Rock Song of the Week pick. If you calculate wealth by the measure of how much late 2000s rock and metal you’ve ingested, that is, which would make me the Mansa Musa of awful puns and drinking scotch. I’ll do my best not to mess up Egypt’s economy with my playlists.