Rock

Brand X “Moroccan Roll” (1977)

Any band or artist that was blessed with Phil Collins presence on the drums in the 70’s would instantly improve their sound. Brand X, of course, was no exception. In fact, If I had to choose one band to prove the greatness of Phil Collins behind the drum kit, it would be Brand X. As much as I love Genesis, it’s here that he seems most confident to create whatever he feels like and to develop a style with no restrictions. In Genesis he was brilliant on the drums, but he was always conscious of the boundaries imposed by Peter Gabriel and Tony Banks compositions. In Brand X he sounds like there’s nothing he can’t do. The other guys are brilliant as well, but it’s Phil Collins that makes them sound so tight.

The music is unmistakingly late 70’s funk-prog-fusion with a jazzy flavor. This is fusion that never becomes tiring and self-absorbed. It’s music for people who love to get lost in a sound filled with intricate patterns and cool atmospheres created by musicians in perfect control of their own vision and who know how to explore new boundaries without losing their sense of fun on the way! —Som

“L” is a collection of perfectly crafted pop songs, with the rare quality of combining complex structures and progressions with familiarity and tunefulness. But saying “L” is some sort of easy-going pop album, reassuring, limpid and immediate would definitely be a mistification. Godley & Creme are the masters of cleverness and displacement, and there’s no song in “L” which does not evoke an impregnable sense of disorientation. The sophisticate nightclub/jazzy music structures are enshrouded of a detached and artefact allure, and some obscure deconstructionist element always crawls in the background making the songs subtly disturbing.

The style calls for mixed comparisons: from Queen at their most retro-sounding mellowness peak, to The Residents’s cynicism or Frank Zappa’s multi-instrumental intrications and Eno/Bowie/Fripp decadent atmosphere and sound. But I must admit none of these comparisons is actually able to describe the uniqueness of such a composite style, which despite all manages to keep light, cohesive and personal and – most of all – to produce memorable, ever-surprising songs. —Marco

Kate Bush “The Dreaming” (1982)

Here Kate Bush graduates from quirky teenage musical prodigy to full-fledged artiste. I think it speaks volumes about this strange and wonderful album that the lead-off single was the wonderfully un-commercial “Sat in Your Lap,” a heady stew of thundering Burundi drums, horn punctuations, and Kate wailing away like a madwoman on the nature of knowledge. EMI Records execs probably wet their pants when they heard it! In fact, I’m surprised this album got a major-label release at all, at least in this form!

Even the more “normal” songs on this release (“There Goes a Tenner,” the jaunty “Suspended in Gaffa,” the Celtic folk-lilting of “Night of the Swallow”) have a certain something that renders them deeply “odd.” Or perhaps its just the proximity of the other songs that’s colouring my perception: witness “Leave It Open” with its Chipmunk backing vocals or “Get Out of My House” with its angry ranting and donkey braying. This is almost Kate’s version of John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band, her own personal primal-scream therapy swathed in digital electronics as a sort of purging of her early precocious piano-maiden persona. This is the next step beyond Nina Hagen’s West German albums, and is one of the most eye-popping musical statements [of all-time]. A vital release. —Progbear

Pretty Things “Parachute” (1970)

While Parachute is less innovative than its predecessor, SF. Sorrow, it shows the Pretty Things at their most mature, lyrically and musically. It begins with a medley that stretches through the majority of side one, one that vaguely resembles the one on The Beatles’ Abbey Road. While it doesn’t reach the cathartic heights of that medley’s finale, it’s melodically stronger than it’s counterpart.

The noisy Scene One is a discomforting opener, with wild drumming that establishes a manic atmosphere. But then it goes away, and you get the peaceful beauty of The Good Mr. Square, which immediately makes it clear that the Pretty Things have improved melodically since their last album, and almost all of these songs boast strong melodies and breathtaking harmonies. Even better yet, they spin that melody into a lovely gospel song in She Was Tall, She Was High, and it’s interesting to see how, in the space of a minute in a half, the song builds up and falls with its soaring chorus Then we get the gorgeous in the Square, with a melody so great, that Radiohead decided to rip it off for Paranoid Android. The song also starts introduce the dichotomy of the city and the country that’s such a prominent theme in this album. Then we get a terrific rocker in the form of Miss Fay Regrets, with it’s fantastic riff, and almost schizophrenic lyrics, and Grass, one of the album’s highlights, with its brooding piano line, and it’s lovely rising melody. The song sounds like a less self-indulgent Pink Floyd with similar production values, only, not only does it predate that classic sound, it actually exceeds it, achieving it’s lovely atmosphere without the use of any of the sound effects Pink Floyd cherished.

As the album hurtles towards its end, we get She’s a Lover, another fantastic rocker, with its Phil May’s lovely falsetto chorus and surprising middle 8 After that, we get What’s the Use, which stuffs three different songs into less than two minutes. It’s a little confusing, and I sorta wish the three parts could’ve been developed more, because they’re all strong, but that’s all made up for with the title track, which is gorgeous beyond words, and features some of the best harmonies this side of the Beach Boys. And that build up, when the drums and piano join the guitar, has to be the most cathartic moment on a Pretty Things record. The best part, is that rising synthesizer near the end, it just keeps soaring up and up and is almost overwhelming, and then the song stops. It’s a great and daring ending for an album, and is just another display of the bands great mastery of atmosphere. This is a fantastic album! —Foxtrot

Jerry Harrison “The Red and the Black” (1981)

This album provides irrefutable proof of Jerry Harrison’s contribution to arguably Talking Heads finest moment; ‘Remain in Light’ …1980-81 was a creatively productive time for ‘Head’s front-man David Byrne and his partner-in-experimentation, producer Brian Eno – the pair famously teamed up to make ground-breaking album ‘My Life in the Bush of Ghosts’ in 1980 (it wasn’t released until 1981 however) before enlisting the rest of the ‘Heads to enact their Afro-funk blueprint for the release of ‘Remain in Light’ later that year. As 1981 rolled around, Byrne went off to record his first solo effort, ‘the Catherine Wheel’, which mined similar ground covered on ‘My Life in the Bush of Ghosts’ and ‘Remain In Light’ with excellent results – both Eno and Harrison were recruited for assistance on some tracks for Byrne’s album.

The busy arrangements and psychedelic flourishes on Jerry Harrison’s first solo effort show that he was in-synch with this progressive-funk vibe, and spotlight the talents of the most overlooked member of the celebrated New York quartet. Jerry Harrison’s effort tends to adopt a more melodic sensibility than any of the other three Talking Heads-related releases from that ’80-’81 period mentioned earlier – the backing singers are given free reign and the results echo and equal the layered-vocal cleverness present on ‘Remain in Light’ – also, Harrison’s own keyboard talents are more obvious here than his often-subtle contributions with Talking Heads; ‘the New Adventure’ revolves around Harrison’s sinewy, convoluted synthesizer melody, ‘Worlds in Collision’ is soaked in dramatic, shimmering keyboard washes before breaking into a highly-funky clav riff which somehow manages to sound both progressive and retro. ‘the Red Nights’ is more ambient than anything Talking Heads ever attempted, a lush instrumental soundscape where Harrison’s own playing and melodic-leanings are once again brought to the fore.

Overall this is easily the most interesting of Jerry Harrison’s 3 albums. By virtue of it’s release date and his association with Talking Heads, it’s hard to avoid comparing the results of ‘The Red and the Black’ with those of ‘Remain in Light’, ‘My Life in the Bush of Ghosts’ or ‘the Catherine Wheel’. And whilst it never quite attains the transcendent power that those albums achieved, there are moments on ‘the Red and the Black’ every bit as compelling as anything on the aforementioned trinity. —Denny

Chicken Shack “40 Blue Fingers, Freshly Packed and Ready to Serve” (1968)

Formed in 1967, Chicken Shack consisted of Stan Webb on guitar and vocals, Andy Sylvester on bass, Christine Perfect (later known as Christine McVie, as a part of the great Fleetwood Mac), on vocals and keyboards, and Alan Morley on drums.

“40 Blue Fingers” is an excellent example of the booming late 60’s blues scene in & around London. With John Mayall & Alexis Korner creating benchmarks for the British blues scene, Chicken Shack were absolutely in the right place at the right time. Stan Webb is another under-rated guitarist of the late 60’s British Blues Scene along the lines of Paul Kossoff (Free). Christine McVie is a Goddess featuring a very powerful, soul-driven voice that’s very clearly influenced by the great John Mayall.

Chicken Shack made their public debut at the Great Britain’s National Blues & Jazz Festival at Windsor along with Fleetwood Mac on August 13, 1967. “There were two stages at Windsor, the main one an open-air ramshackle structure, the other inside a marquee. Fleetwood Mac had their initiation on the main stage but much was made of Chicken Shack’s tented debut.” All said and done, Christine McVie’s performance and Stan Webb’s charismatic guitar playing make this album a worthy buy. —Warchild786

Van Halen “Fair Warning” (1981)

With themes of anger, violence, pornography, and the such, Van Halen dives into the darker side of life and explores all the shady back alleys, hidden smut shops, and local rumble lots. Heck, even the cover is creepy, with it’s weird art and depictions of violence. Some dude is getting his face smashed in from the full mount position while a crowd gathers to witness. The lyrical content is way different, changing from the let’s get drunk and screw variety to things like: “And Someone said Fair Warning/ Lord Will Strike That Poor Boy Down/ Turned From Hunted Into Hunter/ Went To Hunt Somebody Down.” Yeah, there’s a lot of that.

The music is much darker and brutal as well, with Eddie VH bringing plenty of guitar muscle to the party. The intro to “Fair Warning,” has Ed taking his two-handed tapping on the fretboard to the next level and adding rhythmic slaps to the formula. It’s a wrist breaking exercise to be sure, but Ed makes it sound… well, not simple, but certainly more fluid than your average guitar slinger.

This is maybe my favorite Van Halen album of them all. It sort of goes back and forth between this one and the first one, but this one has more substance and atmosphere. Highly recommended album featuring a quite different look at the mighty Van Halen. —Michael

Game Theory “Lolita Nation” (1987)

Power Pop Eden indeed. Being so extremely tough to come by and, since indeed it is sprawling as can get, Lolita Nation has been gaining a reputation of being a lost masterpiece of sorts, kinda in the same way that Big Star’s third record took forever to see the light of day. Well, it might not be as “where have you been all of my life” impactant as Alex Chilton’s notoriously damaged “Third/Sister Lovers” but across its 27 tracks there’s plenty for power pop fans to rejoice with. Relatively to their previous albums this one posesses a harder edge, with tunes like “Dripping with Looks” beginning to show a toughening process that clearly anticipates Scott’s future work with Loud Family. The two records Game Theory released leading up to “Lolita Nation” are surely much easier to approach but there’s an undeniable charm and an endearing quality to Miller’s craft, having a wispy voice at best he comes up trumps with immensely imaginative arrangements and oddly hummable tunes (The World’s Easiest Job, the fabulous Chardonnay) to form a colossal, irregular yet ultimately wholly appealing piece of music. —Johnny

Bob Dylan “Street Legel” (1978)

“Street Legal” might be the most underrated album I’ve encountered yet. It contains some of the most urgent, artistically triumphant, thoroughly stellar, and endlessly ruminating poetry-music of Bob Dylan’s career. After purchasing this album, I had first considered it a guilty pleasure of mine. This is, of course, because I had read endlessly about how dismal it was. Still, there was a certain unpleasant odor about all of these reviews that had led me to cultivate my own opinions.

To begin with, the album contains perhaps four of Dylan’s major triumphs. These are “Changing of the Guards,” “No Time to Think,” “Senor (Tales of Yankee Power),” and “Where Are You Tonight?.” In my opinion, these compositions stand alongside his better appreciated classics such as “Idiot Wind,” “Desolation Row,” and “Blind Willie McTell.” In these songs, he employs surrealistic, deeply layered, and biblically allusive language to express his exasperated internal state–torn between the deterioration of his spiritualistic love for Sara, a decadent hedonism, and a vision of salvation through god’s mercy. I don’t think that Dylan was ever more mentally agile and artistically focused then on “Street Legal’s” recordings. The rest of the songs, although minor in comparison as poetry, are equally essential parts of this fluid and balanced album. Songs like “Baby Stop Crying,” and “True Love Tends to Forget” take us from the surreal, intellectual landscapes of the major songs directly into the turmoil of the character as he moves closer and closer toward the “Slow Train.” They all play out like scenes from a movie, and are successful in the same way as much of “Blood on the Tracks.”

As for the music, Dylan is performing with one of the finest ensembles of his career. The band captures the spirit of the writing wonderfully and adds to it even more richness and complexity. I also love how the Gospel sound of the background singers seems to capture the religious forces at work, while the sleazy Las Vegas feel of the horns evokes the temptations of lust and hedonism. This is a dense and demanding body of music. —Jeffrey

David Bowie “Station to Station” (1976)

Despite Bowie and his studio associates drowning in a quagmire of cocaine, the beauty and vibrancy of “Station to Station” is breathtaking. Anyone who knows Bowie’ knows he was desperate to escape Los Angeles (the source of his addiction) and in many ways the album is a narrative for his impending departure to Berlin and his artistic rebirth [resulting in the classic Berlin Trilogy of Low, Heroes, and Lodger]. Had he had remained in the US he might have simply become another rock n roll casualty. Side two’s “Wild Is the Wind” must simply be one of the most beautiful and understated love songs of all time. —Pete

Graham Nash “Songs for Beginners” (1971)

In one of the finest years in music, Graham Nash delivered the finest of all Crosby, Stills & Nash solo releases. A true masterpiece, that he could never equal again. Sure, the hit ‘Chicago’ with is famous “we can change the world” is naive and dated, but it gives a good impression about the time in which this song was released. It’s also such an incredibly beautiful song. Great vocals all the way through, and besides ‘Chicago’ as an obvious highlight, there’s also magnificent songwriting in ‘Military Madness’, (“the army had my father and my mother was having me”), ‘Man In The Mirror’, ‘Be Yourself’, ‘There’s Only One’ and ‘I Used To Be A King’ to mention a few. No filler! With work as impressive as this, you would expect that he’d become as great as Neil Young (who plays piano on one track). “Songs For Beginners” is probably as great as Neil’s best albums, and that’s arguably the greatest compliment you can get. —Dominique

Stomu Yamash’ta, Steve Winwood & Michael Shrieve “Go” (1976)

This is the album through which Stomu Yamash’ta finally gained international recognition, not least because of Traffic’s Steve Winwood’s presence. Among the other stars are Michael Shrieve (ex-Santana and you can hear a bit of this influence at times on this album) and not mentioned on the album cover, Al DiMeola and Klaus Schulze.

Slowly rising from naught, first with space whispers, soon transformed into a beautiful melancholic symphonic movement, “Solitude” is a logical introduction to the first sung passage “Nature,” here Winwood’s voice is at it’s best. The first side is a succession of structured songs linked with instrumental passages, be they calm or more heroic/dramatic. While the strings can approach the cheesy, some of the songs can be Santana-esque (courtesy of DiMeola and Shrieve) with a funky touch (much more prominent a feature on next year’s Go Too album), the whole thing works quite well. The flipside gets even better, with the same spacey Schulze intro, later on a slightly dissonant movement including the orchestra and again later a wild funk track Time Is Here with the orchestra playing the rhythm.

Go is one outstanding album that should really be heard by everyone and certainly progheads around the world. —Sean