The appalling pall that pop metal casts over 1990's abysmal Hot 100 is a triumph of mass narrowcasting--it is in theory possible for any passive Caucasian under 25 to consume (in descending order of marginal differentiation) Winger or Warrant or Heart or Jon Bon or Cheap Trick or David fucking Cassidy. Winger are Whitesnake with the sexism muted and the facelifts down the road, their feigned innocence and youthcult rote masking their will to power. They may last a while, they may not. They're so bad they're not even completely terrible. C-