UFO’s “Too Hot to Handle” video is like a time-traveling riff machine, plucking you straight out of your cozy Spotify playlist and dropping you into the gritty, unfiltered world of late ’70s metal. Imagine a night at the BBC’s studio, dodging cigarette smoke and the occasional flying drumstick while UFO unleashes a raw performance that’s both fiery and flawed, just the way we like it. It’s not polished to a shine — it’s polished to a point. And yes, you’re still reading this at 2 AM, dreaming of denim vests and questionable hair choices.
What stands out immediately is the energy. This isn’t your overproduced, sanitized arena rock — this is UFO in the raw, gritty flesh. Phil Mogg’s vocals are sharper than Lemmy’s tongue at a backstage party, and the band rides the momentum with a swagger that screams “we own this.” Michael Schenker is there doing what he does best: melting faces with solos that twist and turn like your favorite plot-heavy metal album covers. It’s the musical equivalent of a roller coaster—exciting, slightly dangerous, and absolutely thrilling.
Let’s talk about those riffs. If there’s one thing UFO has been known for, it’s serving riffs hotter than a fresh vinyl on a burning turntable. The dual guitar work is tighter than an Anvil reunion show, weaving in and out like a classic metal tapestry. You can almost hear the audience headbanging through the screen, and if you’re feeling it too, that’s no coincidence. Or maybe it’s the beer — I won’t judge.
Then there’s the nostalgia factor, delivering enough vintage vibes to make even the most seasoned metalheads misty-eyed. This is the era before autotune and when live performances demanded more than just a good sound engineer — it required guts and glam (minus the spandex, thankfully). Watching this feels a bit like rifling through a box of vinyl, dust and all, and stumbling upon a gem that refuses to be forgotten. It’s a glorious time capsule, warts and all.
In short, “Too Hot to Handle” is exactly what we need when reality hits harder than a Metallica lawsuit. It’s flawed, funky, and utterly addictive—like our favorite albums that may not win awards but certainly win hearts. So, grab your air guitar and enjoy the ride. Trust me, you’ll want to replay this one more time before calling it a night, even if tomorrow’s commute is more doom metal than thrash.
