The only album by LA’s The Nymphs appeared in 1991, at the ascendance of grunge to the mainstream, when I was spending time playing in rock band and spending my evenings living an appropriately rock-influenced lifestyle. The Nymphs, though, weren't grunge, they were dirty glam. The sound is of a life lived large. A sound and a life that demands high volume. It was music to be played out of open car windows and the way to a night out.
Singer Inger Lorre’s voice sails above guitars that slide along both rough and glossy. The rhythms, even when playing straight ahead, lay back, everything coming down right behind the beat. The song “Heaven” does exactly this. The second guitar slugs along while the lead’s notes fall down, and again Lorre’s voice has to cut through.
Unfortunately, The Nymphs never went on to make another album. And this one is relatively unknown. I would take another dozen albums like this.