You don’t end up in a band like Skin & Bones by accident. No one gets discovered on the Sunset Strip because they teased their hair the right way. This was earned. Clubs, vans, missed paychecks, girlfriends clapping out of obligation, bartenders as your only audience. That’s the DNA here, a Baltimore-bred, L.A.-dreaming rock outfit that never got its due.
Johnny Vamp, Jimi K. Bones, and Steve Mach cut their teeth in “The Vamps” (not the UK version but a popular localized Baltimore version) with endless club gigs, nights when only the bartender clapped. Pete Pagan rolled in from The Throbs, already scarred by almost-making-it. And Gregg Gerson? He’d toured with Billy Idol and Wayne Kramer. He knew the drill.
They had history. They had chops. And then they got the producers: Andy Taylor (yes, from Duran Duran) and Mike Fraser (AC/DC, Aerosmith). Gloss and muscle in one package.
Put those two together and you get a record like “Not A Pretty Sight”, half pop gloss, half rock muscle, all late-’80s ambition.
That’s the problem and the charm. You listen back now and the production screams “1990.” Gated reverb, layered vocals, guitars EQ’d to cut through car stereos. But inside that gloss are real songs.
“Nail It Down”
A monster opener. Riff up front, chorus built for arenas.
“I’m gonna take your love and nail it down”
At face value, it’s sleaze-rock swagger, dominance, conquest, pinning desire in place like a trophy. But beneath that bravado, it could flip: not about taking at all, but about holding on. Accepting someone’s love and making it permanent, refusing to let it slip away. It’s either lust in leather or commitment in disguise, depending on how you hear it.
“Resurrection Love”
It should have been a single, commercial enough for radio, rock enough for the faithful.
I see the satisfied look in the broken mirror / Said, “Ya fooled me one last time”
When the devil’s out of work ’cause there’s no more sinners / Maybe I’ll change your mind
It’s self-destruction reflected back. The mirror’s cracked, just like the guy staring into it. He’s been burned before, lied to, used, but he still can’t let go.
And then the kicker: when even the devil’s unemployed, when sin runs out, maybe then I’ll get through to you.
“Cover Me With Roses”
Play it and tell me it doesn’t deserve a second life. The hooks are undeniable.
As the candle burns, sing your lullaby / We’ll make a date in heaven, so dry your crying eyes
Cover me with roses / Cover me from the falling rain / Turn my bones to ashes / I won’t feel the pain, no pain
This is death dressed up as romance. A candle flickering, a lullaby, its comfort at the edge of goodbye. The promise isn’t for tomorrow, it’s for heaven, for somewhere beyond the wreckage of here and now.
Cover me with roses, (bury me in beauty), disguise the decay. Cover me from the falling rain, (shield me from the grief that’s about to wash over). And when it’s all gone, when the bones turn to ash, the pain disappears.
“Hey Stupid”
“All you engineers and scientists with your doctor degree / You don’t need a microscope to see / This ole’ world’s got a problem or two / It’s coming apart at the seams.”
The world’s messy, broken, obvious to anyone paying attention.
Credentials won’t fix it. Music won’t fix it either, but damn if it won’t let you scream about it.
“Nymphomania”
It works because the band leans in, no apology. A product of its time, like “Cherry Pie” and “Unskinny Bop”.
Big bosom lady with a smile on her face / Trying to put your backbone out of place
The “big bosom lady” isn’t just a character, she’s a force of chaos, a temptation that threatens to undo the guy’s composure.
From sleaze and swagger to sorrow and soul, Skin & Bones could turn on a dime, proof that this wasn’t just a band chasing trends.
“Kiss This”
It has the swagger modern bands try too hard to fake with some back alley attitude from “Piece Of Me” by Skid Row.
Kiss this! I’ve had enough of your lies / Kiss this! You won’t be running my life / Kiss this! You don’t know wrong from right / You better scratch my name off your list / Kiss this!
Each “Kiss this!” is a declaration: I’m done with your manipulation, your control, your moral lectures.
“All the Girls in the World”
A derivative title, yes, but that chorus is engineered for sing-alongs in every suburban bar in America.
And Johnny Vamp?
He sells it. You can’t fake that kind of delivery.
And there’s a million sexy ladies I’m gonna meet / They’re waiting for me after the show
It’s less about the actual women and more about the mythology of the rockstar life: the tour, the adoration, the endless possibilities waiting after the lights go down.
“Let Her Go”
It’s a slower rock song, a ballad, but not cliched like the rest. More street life, classic rock vibe than glam rock polish.
We used to drink and dance to our favorite song / I wonder how I played, played the part so long / Cause now this ruby has turned back to stone / Ain’t it funny how love cuts you, cuts you to the bone
Nostalgia laced with regret, dancing, drinking, pretending everything was fine while knowing it wasn’t. The “ruby turned back to stone” is the perfect metaphor: something once precious and alive has hardened into something cold, unyielding.
And the final line?
That’s the sting: love doesn’t just hurt, it carves into you, leaving scars you can’t ignore.
“Out With The Boys”
On the streets, we’re a scene / In the clubs, we’re a scream / You can’t come between us tonight / In the wind like dust / If the joint is a bust / We’ll find a place that’s just right
This is pure camaraderie and rock ’n’ roll freedom. The song isn’t just a night on the town, it’s a ritual, a declaration of brotherhood against the mundane. The streets, the clubs, the chaos, they’re a playground, a stage, and a battlefield all at once.
“My World”
Hope I didn’t ruin all your family plans / Cause Daddy wants his girl to have a college man
Tongue-in-cheek rebellion with a sly wink. There’s charm in the defiance, a knowing grin in the face of convention. It’s about rocking your own rules, tempting fate, and laughing at the social script while still acknowledging it.
There is a tragedy and a beauty to “Not A Pretty Sight”. It’s a record caught between ambition and extinction. The band name was from the A&R playbook, the production was as high-profile as you could ask for, and the songs were good enough. But timing is everything in this business. They arrived just as the party was ending, when the hangover was setting in.
By the time this record dropped, the window was closing.
However, labels were still throwing money at bands like Skin & Bones, hoping for another Bon Jovi, another Guns N Roses, another Skid Row.
But the culture had moved.
Grunge was already tuning its guitars down in Seattle. The hair spray was evaporating.
If “Not A Pretty Sight” had landed in ’86, it might have broken. In ’90, it sounded like the last gasp of a genre about to be steamrolled.
But.
“Not A Pretty Sight” is more than just an artifact. It’s a snapshot of a moment, the sound of the majors doubling down on a trend, the musicianship of a band that could play, the polish of a team that knew how to make a record shimmer. It may not have changed the world, but it damn well earns a listen.
Because sometimes the market gets it wrong. Sometimes the band with the derivative name makes a record that deserved better.
And this one did.
P.S. Steve Mach
The tragedy doesn’t end with the record. Bassist Steve Mach was shot and killed by Baltimore police in 2011. Fifty-two years old. Sitting in his room with a pellet gun that cops swore looked real.
This wasn’t some burnout cliché. He’d worked as a lighting tech. He was an animal activist, devoted to rescue cats. Jimi K. Bones remembered him fogging up his basement with a DIY dry-ice machine the first time they met, and thought, “I’ve got to be in a band with this guy”.
Like the record itself, Steve Mach’s story is beautiful and broken, a reminder that behind every forgotten band was someone who lived and breathed the dream until the end.
Rest and rock in peace.
destroyerofharmony 