This is the Gary Numan we know and love, in his infancy. And although this is essentially a more guitar-oriented blueprint for Replicas, its sloppiness and low-rent ambiance give it a creepy feeling and skuzzy attack that makes this album a keeper not only for fans of the man-machine’s two or three subsequent classics, but of early “new wave” in general, before it had its edges smoothed away. Still, the album would have more impact as an EP, as Numan’s limits show themselves not quite equipped for the long player’s haul. Granted, the latter could arguably be said of his two or three subsequent classics, as well. –Will
Rock
Queen “Jazz” (1978)
In comparison to much of the Queen back catalogue, this album has been ripped apart, criticised, and sometimes even ridiculed to the point that one begins to believe in the negativity and almost approaches this 1978 release with a view that it is going to stink however hard one tries to judge it objectively. O.K, it doesn’t contain any of the anthemic masterpieces one had become accustomed to. There is no “Bohemian Rhapsody”, “Somebody To Love”, ” We Are The Champions”, or “We Will Rock You”. Yes it does open with one of the most bizarre songs the band would ever record, the pseudo Arabesque “Mustapha”, which must have been a shock to regular fans.Yes one has to agree that their choice to stage an all nude female bicycle race at Wimbledon Racetrack and include a poster of the event with the album was not the most inspired promotonal strategy, particularly when one considers that The Womens Liberation Movement were at that time getting a certain amount of empathy for their vehement stand against Playboy, Miss World, and anything that showed women as objects for masculine amusement. Although the album would be released with the poster in the U.K, both Kmart and Sears in the States refused to handle “Jazz” with the poster, so American fans would only be able to purchase through Mail order. (It sounds like a Spinal Tap scene doesn’t it ?). The American press were particularly scathing, Rolling Stone reviewer Dave Marsh panned “Jazz”, and added “Queen may be the first truly Fascist Rock band”.
So..is “Jazz” really that bad ? Quite honestly, no it isn’t , it’s actually a good album. Ostensibly, it is the most diverse Queen album up to that period but much of the material is strong, entertaining, and one gets the impression that the band enjoyed “stretching themselves”, both musically and generically. The fun element of this recording comes through on songs like the macho Rocker “Fat Bottomed Girls”, the magnificent multi tracked Vocal arrangement on “Bicycle Race”, and the double entendre filled “Don’t Stop Me Now”, a whirling soaring Pop/Rock song on speed, and easily the best cut from the album. Freddie’s ballad “Jealousy” is gentle and sweetly performed and works well as does Brian May’s “Leaving Home Ain’t Easy”. The Roger Taylor songs are pretty bad (“Fun It”, clunky Disco Rock) and (“More Of That Jazz”, badly edited reprise music) and the John Deacon song “In Only Seven Days” seems like an act of appeasement so that all the band members can be recognised as song contributors.
“Jazz” really needs to be re-considered as a good album that was dumbed down by a Rock press who really didn’t understand that every top Rock band needs to diversify at some stage in their career, and although this isn’t Queen’s best work, it is at times both fun and entertaining. –Ben H
Bob Dylan “Oh Mercy” (1989)
Just when I’d begun to keep my ears open for all the glowing eulogies that were sure to be showered upon the late Mr Dylan’s head, he undergoes a miraculous recovery and produces his finest album of the eighties. I realise that Oh Mercy doesn’t have much competition in that regard but, if I qualify the statement by saying it’s his best since Blood On The Tracks released fifteen years earlier and falls not far short of that pinnacle, I think that puts it into perspective.
Not since the days of Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde On Blonde has Dylan sounded so comfortable fronting a fully fledged band. His voice has the same distinctive croak but sounds richer. Whether that is solely due to the skills of Daniel Lanois in the producer’s chair, I don’t know, but I’m certain a great deal of the credit can be laid at his door. The best songs on Oh Mercy compare favourably with anything in Dylan’s back catalogue. “Ring Them Bells”, “What Was It You Wanted”, “Man In The Long Black Coat” and “Most Of The Time” – a painful telling of not coping with lost love – are all excellent. But, in the end, it’s the negative side of Dylan that this album brings to the fore.
It would be 8 more years before his next great album, Time Out Of Mind, and his insistence in between on releasing second rate material can only be attributed to laziness or a complete disregard for his fans. —Ian
Alice Cooper “Billion Dollar Babies” (1973)
Considering that Alice Cooper’s music was more a soundtrack to his extravagant persona and the sideshow rock and roll theatrics that fans came to love, his early albums still retain a consistent quality as simple stand alone musical experiences. High praise, even if you’re not consumed by the deliberate dark showmanship, the attention grabbing histrionics or the wilful intention to melodramatically shock for the sake of entertainment. Not only did Alice Cooper write strong songs, but they delivered their mix of bombastic heavyweight, glam tinged rock with a knowing pop sensibility and a sense of melody few could compete with. Along with producer Bob Ezrin, and with the powerful dual guitar attack of Glenn Buxton and Michael Bruce, if the band didn’t insult every mother’s heart, they most definitely laid a convincing assault on most kid’s minds.
“Billion Dollar Babies” in many ways is Alice Cooper’s most accessible early work. There’s a more expansive backdrop by the use of a greater range of instrumentation and orchestration. The outstanding opener and worthy cover of the Rolf Kempf original, “Hello Hooray” casts Cooper as the Master Of Ceremonies for every rebellious adolescent searching for thrills with “I’ve been ready, ready as this audience that’s coming here to dream, Loving every second, every moment, every scream”. It lays the foundation for one of the band’s greatest songs, “Elected”, a re-work of a song originally titled “Reflected” from the 1969 “Pretties For You” album. The surging riff that guides the chorus is a revelation in comparison to the original, as Cooper announces himself as the leader of a generation in the simplest terms “Kids want a saviour and don’t need a fake, I wanna be elected”. Much of the remainder of the album perfectly matches Cooper’s ethics to self effacing comedy, manic bravado, and high octane entertainment. There are over egged moments, as in the funereal drawl of “Sick Things”, and the ill fitting polished pop overtones of “No More Mr Nice Guy”, but these slips are overcome by the excellent title track, “Raped And Freezin’”, “Generation Landslide” and the gentle piano ballad “Mary Ann”.
In terms of musical legacy and quality there’s little to choose between 1971s “Love It To Death”, “Killer”, 1972s “School’s Out” and this recording. For a new recruit to Alice Cooper’s wild and wicked world, starting with “Billion Dollar Babies” is the key to enter his dungeon of darkness. —Ben
Sweet “Sweet Fanny Adams” (1974)
One helium-fueled sugar rush of an album, Sweet’s “Sweet Fanny Adams” cuts a glitter-littered path with sky-high vocals, proto-metal guitar crunch, and a set of mesmerizing tunes that find the band splitting writing duties with the Chinnichap bubblegum factory. Sweet seem determined to give their teenybopper image the boot with a series of snarling, bad-attitude rockers like the frantic “Set Me Free,” indignant “No You Don’t,” and the defiant buzz of “Sweet F.A.” lending to the albums aggressive tone, along with glitzy fare like “Heartbreak Today’ and the switch-hitting “AC/DC.” –Ben
Paul McCartney “McCartney” (1970)
A critical dissection will reveal that there’s quite a bit of filler. Yet somehow, taken as a whole, it proves to perfectly capture a mood: an honest snapshot of a place and time. “Maybe I’m Amazed” and “Every Night” are the obvious top choices and “Junk” is an essential McCartney composition. Sifting through the rest is like combing through a great assortment of rags and bones. The instrumentals all have wonderful grooves and there’s really not a bad track on either side. Certainly many of the songs would benefit from a good fleshing out and the album as a whole feels like a set of demos. A set of outstandingly performed demos, that is. It was the perfect album for him to make after the dissolution of The Beatles – imagine the pressure of following not only Abbey Road, but the Beatles as an act! It’s the sound of Paul laying it all out there and subliminally saying “hey, this is what I can do, hope you dig it…if not, I’m not shoving it in your face that I was a Beatle” – a feeling not too far away, but not as severe as John’s “I don’t believe in Beatles”. Where John may have felt emboldened by the break-up and therefore took an extreme approach to his first couple of post-Beatles albums, Paul came out of the box seeming a bit amputated and searching for his sea legs. It’s that emotional honesty that I hear on this album that gives it it’s charm. –BH
Dead Wrong: A Non-Deadhead’s Guide
to the Grateful Dead’s Studio Albums
There are very few bands as polarizing as the Grateful Dead, but even their most rabid fans and harshest detractors can agree on one point: The band personified a type of relationship a band can have with its audience. It’s now a model that many bands — especially those of the “jam band” variety — emulate and strive for, and one that is almost taken for granted in today’s fragmented music-consumer culture. It’s easy to forget just how pervasive the Deadhead phenomenon was, especially when it peaked during the final years of the Dead’s active existence. But all parties must come to an end, and when the Grateful Dead (wisely) decided to call it quits after Jerry Garcia’s sad but unsurprising death in 1995, the coliseum and stadium parking lots emptied out, and many Deadheads moved on.
Looking back on this era, it’s clear now that the Dead’s cultural impact often eclipsed their actual music. But as the shows become fading memories for those who experienced them and as a new generation of listeners discover the Grateful Dead, the focus is returning to the band’s rich musical history — where it belongs. Often brilliant, usually at least interesting, and only rarely unlistenable, the Grateful Dead weren’t afraid to take chances, and they adapted to changing times and environments while compromising very little for either. It’s a well-worn cliche that the Dead’s strength was as a live-performance unit. Indeed, a hardcore Deadhead can likely recite the set-list, verbatim, from the second set of a 1987 Alpine Valley show, but if you ask him if the original “Fire on the Mountain” is on Terrapin Station or Shakedown Street, you’re likely to be met with a blank stare.
In many ways, this preference for the live Dead is warranted, but it’s not always justified. The Dead’s natural habitat was onstage, for sure, but even during their best years (late ’60s and early ’70s), their exploratory jams did not always take flight, and they could be sloppy and meandering just as easily as they could be virtuosic and transcendental. Sometimes the controlled environment of the recording studio helped the Dead reign in some of their more excessive tendencies and focus their creative energies into making more cohesive musical statements. The end results of these endeavors varied widely in quality, especially during their later years. And there is certainly no avoiding the fact that the band suffered a critical blow in 1972 with the loss of lead vocalist/organist Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, who brought and took with him an irreplaceable rawness and blues authenticity. Still, most of the Dead’s studio output from all stages of their storied career is at least worth a listen. And now, revisiting their catalog, it’s clear that some of it can even be called essential. So here, for newcomers to the band (or old-timers wishing to explore the more neglected areas of their work), is a short list of some of the Dead’s more notable attempts at conquering the studio LP format, warts and all.
1. Anthem of the Sun (1967) Many fans of ’60s garage rock (this writer included) love the Dead’s raw and hyperactive debut LP (read our review), but devotees of hardcore 60’s psych will take to this follow-up even more. Melding snippets of live performances to effects-heavy studio-recorded material, the band weaves a sonic tapestry that is at once puzzling and mystical. While some slow bits occasionally threaten to bog things down, this early artistic triumph shows the studio Dead at their most adventurous.
2. Aoxomoxoa (1969) Originally to be titled, “Earthquake Country”, this is the Dead’s most atmospheric record. Folksy, quiet, and dark, its songs are subtle and sometimes don’t even seem like songs at all, more like stream-of-consciousness sound poems. On shaky ground with the rest of the band during the recording sessions, Pigpen and Bob Weir’s presence is minimal, making this mostly Garcia’s show. Still, his creaky vocals, coupled with Robert Hunter’s surrealistic lyrics, make for a record that is wonderfully creepy and bizarre.
3. Workingman’s Dead (1970) This is the first release in a pair of career and genre-defining country rock albums. For many, its follow-up, American Beauty, is the best studio album the Dead ever recorded. But most of these folks would agree that Workingman’s Dead comes in a very close second. Possessing a slightly grittier sound than the more polished American Beauty, every track here is a winner. Some of the band’s most popular songs such as “Uncle John’s Band” and “Casey Jones” are here, but it’s the less overplayed tracks that make it one of the greats. Among these fine moments are “New Speedway Boogie”, a commentary on the fateful Altamont music festival (where the band shared billing with the Rolling Stones) and “Easy Wind,” a showcase for Pigpen, who seizes the opportunity to make the most soulful five minutes to be heard on any Grateful Dead studio album.
4. Blues for Allah (1975) The Dead released three studio albums on their short-lived record label in the mid-70s: Wake of the Flood, From the Mars Hotel, and this one. All entries in this “Grateful Dead Records Trilogy” show the band’s growing jazz and fusion influences, and Blues for Allah represents the culmination of this productive experimentation. The Dead had been on hiatus a year before the LP’s recording sessions began, and this seems to have done them a world of good. Pigpen is long gone at this point, but keyboardist Keith Godcheaux is on fire and contributes some of the best work he’s done since joining the band. (And thankfully, the presence of his wife/backing-vocalist, the much maligned Donna, is kept to a minimum.) Featuring the “Help on the Way-Slipknot-Franklin’s Tower” song cycle, a live staple for the rest of the Dead’s career, this is the closest the Dead ever came to bottling their onstage lightning.
5. Terrapin Station (1977) In the late ’70s, the Dead signed with Arista Records, and the label would release the remainder of the band’s studio output during the band’s active existence. Many of these records are riddled with half-baked ideas, unsuccessful attempts at then in-vogue musical styles, and dated production values. Terrapin Station is certainly not immune to these pitfalls, but there’s something very interesting about watching a band, one who for many years avoided the usual machinations of the music industry, try to reinvent themselves as an FM-friendly arena rock act. Even more interesting is the fact that here the Dead sometimes threaten to pull this off! Though dated and overproduced, Terrapin Station is probably the band’s strongest later studio effort, and it still retains a certain charm. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the two records that came after it, Shakedown Street and Go to Heaven.
Further listening: Ironically, the Dead had their biggest commercial success with 1987’s In the Dark, long after their creative peak. Though its hit single, “Touch of Grey”, made the band more popular than ever, many early adopters despised the album. To be fair, it did represent a return to form as far as songwriting was concerned, but its production values keep it eternally trapped in the ’80s. If you must hear the Dead’s studio work of this era, it might be worth a listen. But a better route to take is one that stops by the many wonderful solo efforts of the Dead’s individual members. Jerry Garcia’s first LP, 1972’s Garcia (read our review), easily holds its own alongside the Dead’s best work. Percussionist Mickey Hart also recorded some great stuff, and his first album, Rolling Thunder, featuring a star-studded lineup of musicians and vocalists, is a must hear! —Richard P
Did we leave out your favorite Grateful Dead or Dead-related solo LP? We’d love to hear your comments:
Taste “On the Boards” (1970)
I couldn’t imagine being a guitar player in the mid sixties to early seventies. Players were evolving faster than the sound of the notes they played. Hendrix came from a parallel world and was changing everything, Clapton was making his mark, along with Jeff Beck, Jimmy Paige, and Carlos Santana just to name a few. Meanwhile, a reclusive Irishman named Rory Gallagher was tearing it up with his Stratocaster, earning a fraction of the recognition of what the aforementioned players were gaining. Gallagher’s second record, On the Boards (1970) with his power trio Taste, is one of hard rock’s understated gems, a fiery, raw blend of blues-rock, jazz, folk, country, and sophisticated progressive rock. All three players shine in this stripped down affair. The opening track, “What’s Going On” is a biting, hard rockin’ ominous number about social discord and the mixed signals of the times that are felt through Gallagher’s gruff voice. There’s the jazzy swagger of “It’s Happened Before, It’ll happen Again” (he also blows a convincing sax on this track). “If the Day was Any Longer” is a vulnerable ballad with an earnest seduction too it; some sweet harmonica augments the tenderness. Side two begins with some elaborate slide guitar workouts on “Eat my Words” that would make Duane Allman’s eyebrows rise. The title track is another jazz-tinged tune; Gallagher’s Strat chimes with bright, clean tones but contradicts this with a dark melody. “See Here” is an acoustic track that has a searching, yet sweet lullaby vibe too it that never seems to resolve musically (in the good way). There are also some basic blues rockers that could’ve easily gone into tired, honkey- tonk, bar fight territory but were saved not only by Gallagher’s astounding guitar playing but his intricate song writing as well. Rory Gallagher was a guitar player’s guitarist, but to the general public one of the most (arguably the most) overlooked guitar players of all time; who knows why; maybe he just wasn’t “psychedelic” enough. All that put aside, On the Boards is a remarkable album; and a true testament to his masterful six string navigation and his brilliant song craft. —ECM Tim
How does it feel to be the greatest guitarist in the world? I don’t know, go ask Rory Gallagher.’ —Jimi Hendrix
Van Halen “Women and Children First” (1980)
Peeling out of the high school parking lot while flipping the principal the bird, Women and Children First roars to life with “And the Cradle Will Rock…,” further cementing Van Halen’s reputation as America’s party-on house band. Heat of the moment livin’ courses through the album, the band’s vibrant alchemy fueling the steamy cat-calling “Everybody Wants Some!,” alcoholic crash ‘n’ burners “Romeo Delight” and “Loss of Control” (which segues out of the cool Sabbathy riff scrap of “Tora! Tora!”) and the assless chaps grinding blues-rockers “Fools” and “Take Your Whiskey Home.” The gleaming “In a Simple Rhyme” closes Women and Children with an underrated razor toothed pop/rocker, capping another LP brimming with the reckless brilliance of Van Halen in full flight. —Ben
Ginger Baker’s Airforce (1970)
First album by the legendary ensemble Air Force, formed by drummer Ginger Baker following the collapse of the two Rock super-groups he was a member of: Cream and Blind Faith. Baker formed the ensemble to pursue the music he was truly interested in, which included Jazz and African Music. He managed to persuade a large number of British luminaries to join forces in this ambitious project, creating a first of its kind Jazz-Rock-World Fusion ensemble. The list of the participants reads like a who’s who of the British music scene at the time and includes: Steve Winwood (organ and vocals) and Rick Grech (bass) – both ex-Blind Faith, Graham Bond, Denny Laine, Chris Wood, the great Harold McNair and Baker’s revered teacher and legendary British Jazz drummer Phil Seamen. The first album was recorded live at the Royal Albert Hall and was originally released as a double LP. The music is a wonderful mixture of Jazz, Rock and World Music, performed with passion and virtuosity. The lengthy tracks allow for extended instrumental improvisations and the two drummers have ample opportunity to engage in mighty duels. In retrospect the album is visionary and educational, allowing a glimpse at a time when musical dreams were realized. This pioneering effort is a wonderful legacy for generations to come and includes many unforgettable moments. Unavailable for decades, this CD reissue is a wonderful opportunity to get familiar with a piece of musical legacy, which remains untouched by time. Absolutely not to be missed! –Adam
Boston “Boston” (1976)
It may have inspired LOTS of dumb hard rock bands who lifted their style of pop sensibilities in blistering hard rock for the next 30 years, but Boston’s self-titled debut album is a career-defining classic. The mega-hit “More Than A Feeling” really needs no description. Even if you skip it, the album is insanely feel-good and flows seamlessly. The rollicking “Peace of Mind” moves with gentle acoustic strums and big loud guitars – a combination Bon Jovi would sacrilegiously raid years later. “Foreplay/Long Time” brings back memories of savage Deep Purple-style organ mixed with blistering Bat out of Hell-esque guitar parts. “Smokin’” is exactly that, giving way to an ominous organ in the bridge, whilst “Hitch a Ride” and “Let Me Take You Home Tonight” showcase Boston’s gentler pop sensibilities. The song writing is outstanding and songs are peppered with huge dynamic shifts, as blistering lead breaks come out of nowhere, handclaps pop in and out to say hello and most notably in “Something About You,” soulful cries gives way to twin-harmonized lead breaks and supercharged RAWK. It is impossible to deny the irrepressible spirit of the first Boston album and sad to think about how the band crashed, burned and became spare parts for future bands of lesser worth. –Matt P
Todd Rundgren “Runt: The Ballad of Todd Rundgren” (1971)
A stunning album of singular vision, Runt: The Ballad of Todd Rundgren stands as the odd man out in the Rundgren discography, decidedly un-eclectic, focused on a mellow, transcendent goal. Lonely-Friday-night-turned-love-at-first-sight opener “Long Flowing Robe” sets the stage with it’s easy-goin’ groove and explosive chorus (and the greatest single note tom fill in rock history) bathing the shag carpet in an orange glow, the rest of The Ballad germinating under it’s warmth. Heartstring-tugging, piano based ballads with rich vocal harmonies like “Wailing Wall,” “The Ballad (Denny & Jean),” “Be Nice to Me” and “Hope I’m Around” dominate, and sit comfortably next to head-noddin’ rockers like “Bleeding,” “Chain Letter” and “Parole.” The “less is more” philosophy is at play here (shockingly so for those coming at this album backwards after digesting the multi-layered entries to follow) with a straightforwardly simple instrumentation giving plenty of breathing room to the songs, each of which feature hooks galore – each a minor classic. With the career-defining “Something/Anything” lurking ’round the corner, “The Ballad” stands as an unheralded masterpiece that has undoubtedly served as the final straw for those who choose to dig deeper and have come to hold as their mantra: “Todd Is God.” –Ben
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