Rock

Ace Frehley “Ace Frehley” (1978)

Ace was always the coolest member of KISS, his couldn’t care less attitude contrasting with poutin’ Paul and the demon, and his meat and potatoes guitar style featuring a wide, spaced out vibrato, was central to the KISS sound. It’s no shock that of the four ’78 solo albums, Ace’s is always the favorite, and I’d go as far to say it stacks up against any of the original KISS studio sides. The key is Ace’s lack of ambition, Ace Frehley being a straight-ahead hard rock record with few deviations. “Rip It Out” drops the hammer as the deliriously wasted “Ozone,” scatterbrained “Wiped-Out” and snortin’ slammer “Snowblind” draw you into Ace’s chemically-addled world. Ace manages to mix things up as well, his cover of the Russ Ballard penned glam-stomp “New York Groove” turning into a hit, “What’s on Your Mind?” being a hidden power pop gem, and the album closes with the cool chill-out instrumental, “Fractured Mirror.” –Ben

Genesis “A Trick of the Tail” (1976)

If Genesis is, at best, a guilty pleasure (and I’m not necessarily implying they are), what to make of post-Peter-Gabriel-Genesis? And if they’re not a guilty pleasure (and I’m not fully prepared to say they aren’t), but rather, with Gabriel at the helm, the Most Wonderfulest Group on God’s Grey Earth—what happens to the listener who says A Trick of the Tail is probably nearly almost just about as good as Selling England by the Pound? Shall he be drawn and quartered?

With more emphasis on rhythm, due to less cluttered production and willful eccentricity, the group seems to hit their stride as a (relatively) straightforward rock outfit following the departure of resident eccentric Peter Gabriel. The emergence of Phil’s drums are just the refreshing advance that was needed after all that murky “orchestration;” but the orchestration on this album’s predecessor leaves a lot to be desired on this weird crossover, an album that mines territory similar to Lamb’s predecessor, Selling England by the Pound, but lacks the structural inventiveness and the skewed cinematic sense the group had captured on the latter and the aforementioned follow-up, an unwieldy but frequently incredible record.

For those who entirely discount post-Gabriel Genesis, much of this (and its successor, for that matter) are pretty solid. Arguably not up to the standard of anything that came before, but, trading in some of the “drama” for a stronger attack and a little much-needed directness, this stuff is pretty, and mostly pretty compelling. Phil Collins haters be damned! –Will

Be-Bop Deluxe “Axe Victim” (1974)

As mentioned in all other assessments of this album, the influence of Ziggy Stardust permeates Axe Victim from Bill’s Bowiesque mullet down to the freeze-dried production, self-mythologizing content and plasticized space-age musical character of the songs. However, beneath it’s glam-bandwagoning lies an imaginative album that’s easy to enjoy if you’re able to lower the blinders to it’s Ziggy impersonations, while guitar hero worshipers will find in Nelson’s hyperactive cascades of fuzz an idol worthy of praise. Highlighted in the “Rock & Roll Suicide” inspired urban wasteland of “Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape,” the axe-victimizing epic “Jets at Dawn,” anthemic “Jet Silver and the Dolls of Venus,” and shadowy orchestrated closer “Darkness,” Nelson and his Be Boppers turn in a set of over-literate but oddly engaging tracks whose charms are probably easier to appreciate given three decades of glam dormancy. Inevitably, Nelson would call an audible and leave Axe Victim a curious footnote to his prolific career, but it’s a forgotten son worth getting reacquainted with. —Ben

Shoes “Black Vinyl Shoes” (1978)

My pick for the fizziest power pop album ever made. The home-recorded guitar buzz even gives the cozy impression of a warm and constant carbon dioxide “fffffffff” across these fifteen catchy melodies. The group recorded it themselves as a demo—then they just released it as is—and each track is pure melody adorned only with the barest, ghostly living room production. It’s a uniquely spectral record, a little hook-filled cry in the night. Everyone notices its odd sound. Today, roughly 275,000 homemade albums come out each year, but in 1978 there wasn’t much else that sounded like this. Today, it feels timeless. It’s also consistently good. I can’t pick favorite songs off this any more than I can pick which M&M was the best out of the bag, but I’ve thrown “Fatal” onto a few mixes due its great percussion. —Jason

Tim Buckley “Happy Sad“ (1969)

Rather than conforming to just one of the emotions listed in its deceptively simple title, ‘Happy Sad’ works as a fusion of the two, finding a glorious middle ground that is utterly joyous in its unrivalled melancholy. Perhaps looking back now with knowledge of Tim’s passing adds a certain poignancy to these songs and their emotional content, but surely one completely ignorant of the artist’s history would have a hard time denying ‘Happy Sad’s otherworldly beauty. ‘Gypsy Woman’ may seem an abrupt change from the mood and mellow style of the other material, but even if it does seem more at home on ‘Greetings from L.A.’, the adventurous spirit and folk-jazz textures fit perfectly here. One of Tim Buckley’s finest albums, which says volumes for it’s place in the annals of musical history.—Christian

Andy Summers & Robert Fripp “I Advance Masked” (1982)

A fortuitous meeting between the King Crimson and Police guitarists, the all-instrumental “I Advance Masked” is built around a number of seemingly improv-based couplings of the artists’ signature sounds – the needle like leads and polyrhythmic gamelan influenced patterns that propelled albums like “Discipline” dominate, but ever-present as well are Summers’ bright guitar textures.

Both of these guys’ main gigs during the 80’s held in common the ability to create an indistinctly exotic yet contemporary atmosphere, and while clearly more experimental than thoroughly composed, “I Advance Masked” taps in to a similar vibe with wonderful results. —Ben

Traffic “John Barleycorn Must Die” (1970)

A superlative album. It’s actually a toss-up for me between this album and ‘Low Spark of High Heeled Boys’ as to which is Traffic’s best recording, but it really doesn’t matter. I’ll take both. Anyway, it is quite ballsy that a rock band of Traffic’s stature should title their album and include a 6.5 minute long version of a 16th century song — an allegory on the cultivation of barley and it alcoholic after-effects. Yet, it works; in fact, I prefer this version of John Barleycorn to that of Martin Carthy, Fairport Convention or Steeleye Span, it is that good. But most of the album is far more jazzier than folky, a compliment to the diversity of Traffic. ‘Glad’ is exactly what its title implies: a joyous and jazzy romp with one of the nicest piano sequences in rock ‘n’ roll. ‘Glad’ segues seamlessly into ‘Freedom Rider’ another bit of jazz fusion, and an excellent vocal bookend to the instrumental ‘Glad’. ‘Empty Pages’ presents Traffic at its most…ummm…’Trafficesque’. It is a quintessential Traffic tune.

And this is the quintessential Traffic album: compositionally diverse, catchy riffing and a musical virtuousity that one does not find in the later ages of rock. As a matter of fact, an argument can be made that this type of album can no longer be made, due to the reliance on strict genre-defining output and the lack of musical diversification in the current crop of rock musicians. I hate the wanking 21st century. —Dark Elf

Fleetwood Mac “Bare Trees” (1972)

It’s interesting how “Future Games” has a very distinct summer feel and “Bare Trees” has a very distinct winter feel. It’s a testament to the genuine depth of talent evident in this line-up that they manage to pull off both with aplomb. It’s hard to choose between the two but I think I have a slight preference for this album as Christine McVie’s songs are improvements on the formula she established on “Future Games”, and there’s a bigger indication of where Fleetwood Mac’s sound would go in the future; they sound like a band on solid ground. Featuring on his fourth and final Fleetwood Mac album, Danny Kirwan responds again to the change in sound and delivers the goods. This album might give fans an indication of how his sound might have developed had he not fallen out so spectacularly with the band. If there was any remaining doubt that he was a wonderfully gifted writer and performer then they’re put to rest here; he signs off with a batch of songs that confirm him as a talented pop craftsman.

Kirwan’s album opener, “Child of Mine”, is a nice little mover with great guitar work. His instrumental, “Sunny Side of Heaven”, is like watching a cloud falling from the sky in slow motion-it’s that serene. “Bare Trees” is another groovy, melodic rocker with potent bursts of lead guitar from Kirwan and great vocals. “Danny’s Chant” is a quasi-instrumental with wordless vocals over the top that somehow enhances the ambient feel of the album and has some nice wah-wah in it. Kirwan’s final contribution, “Dust”, is the highlight of the album and one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. The lyrics are taken from a Rupert Brooke poem and whether the music came first or the idea of using the lyrics came first, it’s a mighty impressive feat. The lyrics are beautiful and the music has such a powerful synthesis of beauty and sadness that it breaks my heart every time I listen to it. Bob Welch’s contributions are wonderful with the use of mellotron and the catchy chorus of “The Ghost” standing out for me. Christine McVie’s contributions are similar to her songs from “Future Games” but slightly better in my opinion. “Homeward Bound” genuinely rocks and doesn’t out stay it’s welcome in the way that “Morning Rain” did. The guitar solo from Kirwan is absolutely scintillating; he even manages to throw a Rainbow-style progression into the mix. The poem that ends the album is an interesting addition. Read by a Mrs. Scarrot, it fits in well with the winter feel of the album. Fans of the Lindsay Buckingham-era of Fleetwood Mac will probably enjoy this album and, ultimately, it occupies a really good middle-ground between the two well-known periods of the band. Danny Kirwan’s stint in the Mac is over but he leaves us a wealth of great, unappreciated material and “Bare Trees” is a fitting epitaph to his time in the band. –Tom

Ram Jam “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Ram” (1978)

Country-fried metal (never mind that these guys were Yanks) recorded recklessly in the red, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Ram drops the listener in the garage just as our blue collar bozos have popped the cork on a particularly toxic bottle o’ hooch. Kicking in with the rabid “Gone Wild,” Ram Jam tackle each song with all the skill and determination of a pack of cavemen taking down a mastodon, consistently plastering you to the wall with riffmonsters like “Pretty Poison,” “Wanna Find Love,” and “Just Like Me,” only pausing for the surprisingly sober “Turnpike” and oddly hospitable, probably recorded at gunpoint “Saturday Night.” Idiot-savants of hard rock, Ram Jam sound like they might not be able to tie their shoes if they even wear any, but who’s got time when Portrait begs another spin? –Ben

Mandrill “Solid” (1975)

There aren’t a whole lot of bands like Mandrill! Even in the days of War and Santana when a psychedelic stew was bubbling and latin styles were merging, this band was a standout due to the heavy rootedness of their music. Throughout this album the band serve up a set of tunes that blend rather foreboding, dark funk with surreal strings, harmonies and wah-wahs such as on the compelling “Wind On Horseback,” “Yucca Jump” and the title song. They rock hard in a funky place on “Tee Vee”, a song whose message and almost proto hip-hop groove predates the Disposable Heroes Of Hisprocrisy’s “Television” by about fifteen years. There are also some hardcore grooves such as “Peck Ya Neck” and “Stop & Go.” The final song “Slick” is pretty much an instrumental that takes on some very dynamic influences: from the cinematic soul popular with Isaac Hayes to a sort of afro cuban jazz sound. Mandrill and Solid are potent reminder of the cross cultural pollination, from jazz to soul to pop, that the golden age of funk represented.  –Andre

David Bowie “Lodger” (1979)

An orphan in the Bowie canon, crowded together with Low and “Heroes” as part of the Berlin trilogy when in fact it’s best understood as the transition from those albums to Scary Monsters, Lodger is perhaps the most underrated record from Bowie’s classic period. In fact, I would argue it’s the most satisfying of the Berlin trio.

There’s something odd and slightly uncomfortable about Lodger – it’s hurt by a surprisingly muddy mix, and its flow feels disjointed, even after repeated listens – but that’s part of its appeal. I hesitate to use the term “avant-pop,” because that’s a phrase that gets thrown around a lot, but I think it’s fitting in this case. A working title was “Planned Accidents,” and that aesthetic is consistently present on all ten tracks. The songs here are mostly melodic and catchy, but they’re ripped apart by tape-warped guitar solos (courtesy of the always excellent Adrian Belew,) weird flourishes of faux-exotica, and odd song structures.

All in all, there’s not a bad song in the bunch. From the thrilling rush of “Look Back In Anger,” which features wonderfully melodramatic vocals from Bowie, to the catchy ersatz Turkish reggae of “Yassassin,” to the gently swaying, socially conscious opener “Fantastic Voyage,” Bowie is in top form. Even the deliberately jarring, dissonant “African Night Flight,” which bears Eno’s fingerprints all over it, is fascinating. And I haven’t mentioned “DJ” or “Red Sails,” two of the very best songs on here! on’t overlook this gem. —Mason

Joe Jackson “Will Power” (1987)

In the context of his entire body of work, it’s neither out of place nor a difficult listen…quite the opposite. Even after 20 plus years, whenever I play this CD, it seems to fly by and end too soon – I can’t find a boring or wasted second on here. Jackson takes his cues from a wide range of composers (Aaron Copland, Ennio Morricone, Philip Glass to name a few), and comes up with an utterly original and fresh take on contemporary classical music. “No Pasaran” is pensive and slightly nervous with excellent use of dynamic range and spiky orchestral stabs. “Solitude” is beautifully mournful, one of the great treasures of his catalogue. The title track may be my favorite, it incorporates many styles into a unified and exciting whole and does so in a masterful way. “Nocturne” is Jackson’s piano solo showcase, and it’s fantastically beautifully composed and played…so much soul coming from the performance. The album closes with a piece reworked from a score he wrote for a Japanese film, that trivial tidbit hardly matters though. It’s certainly cinematic, or maybe I should really say it’s program music as it conveys a meaning that is forced to be separate from the film music that spawned it (having never seen the movie, that is). The sound quality of this release is expertly engineered – a full digital recording but done right with warmth and fullness. I’ve owned this album since it’s release and it gets played several times a year. As time passes, familiarity has caused a strong personal bond with the music and it’s become one of my favorite albums. —BabeHardy