This album was slaughtered by critics upon its release, and has been catagorized as ordinary and typical 70's rock, but of course, these people are totally wrong. The Confessor finds Walsh in the middle of the eighties still rockin like it was the 70's. And really, whats wrong with this? His sound is updated slightly with more polished production, a bit more synth and keys, but at its core it's still Walsh, tongue-in-cheek, poking fun at stuff while laying down bloozy riffs and funky beats, which all your naysayers should know, that stuff NEVER goes out of style. The production on the title track really shines with every string rattle in Walsh's 12-string jumping out in the track giving a loose, slippery feel to the song before the knockout blow of crunching guitars and screaming vocals. Not really a signature style for Walsh, but effective nontheless. The rest of the album walks a tightrope of hangdog, laid back Walsh rockers, and pure pop structured songs, all delivered with a wink and a punch. The Confessor couldn't get any respect from the world when it was released at a time when funny looking Englishmen with bad haircuts and keyboards ruled the airwaves, nor does it get any respect today when focus-group picked talentless made-for-television bands are the flavor of the month. But for the afficianado of rock and roll listener its a worthy pickup if you haven't heard it.