Review From the Houston Chronicle

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Euphoria
Def Leppard
Mercury

 Shh.  Don't tell anyone.  Back in college, when I should have been 
listening to R.E.M., the Smiths and New Order, I sometimes listened to ...
(gulp) ... Def Leppard.
 Sorry, but sometimes, as an antidote to stuff such as Heaven Knows 
I'm Miserable Now, I had to cue up Pour Some Sugar on Me.
 So, when I popped Euphoria into the disc player, it was like putting on a
comfortable pair of Vans.
 The new album is, admittedly, Def Leppard's same old shtick, but at least
it was a good shtick to begin with.
 You got your power ballads, your in-your-face tussle rock, your 
lusty, leering pile drivers.
 Dude.
 Def Leppard always stood apart from its contemporaries through its 
sense of humor, particularly in the way it never seemed to take itself too
seriously.  It matched that wryness with a deft musical touch, mixing
equal parts melody and mania into some serious trash-can punch.
 Not much has changed on Euphoria, except perhaps for a touch more 
gravity that seems appropriate, given the band's advancing years.  The
good old elements are still there, from simple rhythms to sparkly-clean
production to screechy vocals.
 Check it out.  It'll cure what ails you.

 *** out of ****

 - Steve Crawford