Louis XIV probably had to settle for these Roman numerals because the domain name for Louis XXX had already been purchased. As the liner art might lead one to expect, the Best Little Secrets Are Kept is and "R Rated" affair and, to be honest, a good bit of naughty fun. In the "dirty young man" tradition of Marc Bolan (T. Rex) and the novelty song style of Malcolm McClaren (can you hit me with your rhythm stick?) Louis XIV has upped the ante on The Hives "your girlfriend would crawl over your lifeless body to lick my heel" posturing, with the most straight-forward lechery to float down the mainstream in recent memory.

When it comes to his playful, sexist misogyny, singer/main-man Jason Hill has the smarts to keep it rather unclear as to whose cheek he's got his tongue in. Detractors can easily be dismissed as prudes who can't take a joke, and supporters are paid off handsomely. Still there is a "no substance behind the facade" feeling that leaves a hollow ring after most of these tunes, and even worse the credibility-gap that plagues acts who trade on the campy, if not novelty act paths to glory. The venerable Adam Mast argued this point with me, opining that Louis XIV is far less campy than say The Darkness. Tough Call.

There will be plenty who will embrace this neo-glam, Rocky Horror Pin-up Show bit of lasciviousness - it's plenty of fun (at least over it's first half-dozen spins) and an album well timed as spring draws the sap of life upward once again. Soberly, however, for a record of it's limited scope and questionable shelf-life a 3 1/2 is the best I can muster up. Wink wink.