RECORDINGS

Rip It Up, Issue 180, 1 July 1992, Page 21

RECORDINGS

NEW ZEALAND SNAPPER (Flying Nun) Reissue on CD of their ’B7 drone rock debut, at least three out of four classic cuts in ‘Hang On’, ‘Death And Weirdness in the Surfing Zone’, ‘Buddy’ and ‘Cause of You’, trance-rock, stoned feedback, ignoble imprecations (I think), dangerous sonic undertow, in short, everything they said about Shotsun Blossom was here first. : DONNA YUZWALK MC OJ & RHYTHM SLAVE Joined at the Hip Hop (Wildside) . Judging by the pictures on the cover of this EP, OJ & Slave have been “out-staunched" by Sons of Thunder, their remixers. S.O.T. are so staunch this is not actually a remix but according to the cover a remake! And it’s only by comparing this version to that on the album that you appreciate it is a complete remake. Sons of Thunder have dispensed with the Straw People’s prior production and started anew, keeping only the lyrics. The lyrics are great but SP’s production had them sounding , too cutey-pie, presumably with an eye to radio exposure. S.O.T. have dispensed with that and put a little beef into OJ & Slave’s diet. - ' A lot of beef actually. Sons of Thunder are DJs DLT & Roger Perry, and with their street-level knowledge of the dancefloor they have combined a wealth of samples to give the song the hard edge it needed. Even with this edge it still retains a “radio friendly" feel with its funked up tempo and chorus hooks (perhaps a sign that radio is maturing?). The flip side is ‘Burn Time’, a new one not featured on the album. It’s a ragga-style track with guest vocals from Danny D a.k.a. Hypaondtrak. This sounded absolutely awesome booming out of my system on a sunny mid-winter day, but it has such a summer feel to it I might get pissed off hearing it when its raining! (The cassingle also contains the C.A.F. album track ‘10.55’ — a sublime slow-jazz rap). NICK D'ANGELO THE CHILLS The Male Monster From The Id CD single (Flying Nun) Everyone knows that should read MARTIN PH ILLIPPS because these are his songs, backed by his new American (’cept Terry Moore) band. ‘Male Monster’ impresses after a few listens as a quality song with a nice lilt and tilt to the chorus which I guess makes it “pop”. ‘I Wish I Could Do Without You’ is identikit rollicking alternative pop which rolls right by these ears. ‘Big Dark Day’, you really notice Martin’s this songand his status as an intelligent perpetuator of the pop tradition (not everyone can fit a word like ‘imminent’ into a song). His new band create a solid warble of sound behind his distinctive vocals. Really, a man in search of his better half. DONNA YUZWALK DAVID PARKER x Get Down Tonight CD single (WEA) Impossible to do a bad version of the KC and the Sunshine Band standard and sure enough, classy but clean-cut David Parker comes up with a silky-smooth version which could slide him up the charts' again, courtesy of Mark Tierney on the production desk. Comes with the inevitable remixes, ‘The Early, Warning Mix’ and ‘The. Cooped-up Mix’/ ;■ • : - /’j/'?/’- • ' - /’’ DONNA YUZWALK RIKKI MORRIS I Can’t Give You Anything CD single (Mushroom) . Ricky Morris warns us that his heart is “getting ready to explode” before this song implodes in a big mushy chorus with lots of “darlings” in it. Could be a cocktail lounge standard in 10 year’s time if NZ had such things. ‘Don’t Say No’ is sophisticated as.well. ‘Notting Hill Shuffle’, well, I’m glad pop stars can still afford to take holidays in London and tell us all about the good times they had in a song. DONNA YUZWALK ///< VAN TROMP ' V/ Lonely Existence/ Momma (Universal Records) Radio Hauraki like this song and it’s not hard to see why — it’s got that big Def Leppard feel, glossy production, slick playing and stadium rock vocals — Van Tromp pull it off very well. The band try a ballad with B side ‘Momma’, again with considerable success within the context of this kind of chart aimed, stadium rock sound. DONNA YUZWALK \ : EAST Fluid/Keep It (Single) Two solid tracks, A side ‘Fluid’. I thought ‘Keep It’ sounded like the Cure and Shirley thought ‘Fluid’ sounded like Fugazi, so “the Cure meets Fugazi” with guitars alternately swoony/swirly and worried/ busy. Musically the songs are quite interesting and compe Hing but the vocals sound constipated — you can hear Ben Holt’s whole body straining to squeeze out those notes. . . ■/•'/'/■./< ' DONNA YUZWALK HARRY DEATH Beautiful (Ima Hitt) This is a potentially excellent record marred by the fact that it was pressed at that dodgy acetate plant in Geraldine, which means that my stereo neeedle skips on half the tracks . But if you can get it on tape do so because there’s real low-fi charm in these songs, which are sort of low-key punk balladry in the Nikki Sudden vein (a big compliment). In fact, the vocals (shared by all four members of the band) are uncannily reminiscent of the lisping one, only minus the lisp. We’re talking an affecting level of honesty, a sort of footshuffling bravado and suitably messy distorted guitar (sax, trumpet and synth piano'also make their appearance). . Beautiful was recorded in 1988 at Writhe in Wellington (from whence the Death hail) and engineered by Brent McLaughlan. Who knows what tangled tale lies behind its late release, but it could be a real gem if released on a more failsafe format. DONNA YUZWALK

BIG CAR Normal (Giant) ? \ ’ WATERLILLIES . ? ?-’W Envoluptousity (Sire) ' 17 Bricks Are Heavy (Liberation) One debutant and two debutantes from the Star Spangled Banner. ■ Big Car are from Austin, Texas and as their bio goes: "they write a high-octane brand of supremely catchy guitar pop that straddles the gap between Badfinger and the Replacements". Well, what don't they do?? But like a lot of the multitude of road bands Big Car is a Cadillac made out of other people's parts. In’ Miles' Zuniga they've got a useful mechanic, but their best valve grind, 'Venus' with its attack and instant chorus is Westerburgi sh and other gears like 'Amazing Contradiction' and 'Day By Day' sound a lot like Parker or Costello. Metaphors aside, Big Car's songs are strictly unleaded. Waterlillies? Mmmm, not a heavy metal band by the sound of it, in fact ignore their silly album title and you've got something a li ttle weird here. They are a duo from Gotham (leave the Batman jokes at the door) — Ray Carroll, who plays and produces everything and wears shades and geeky caps and Jill Alikas, vocalist and presumably the lyricist responsible for using the incongruous term 'fornicate' on the otherwise acceptable disco flash of 'Hip Hop To My Way'. For much of the album Alikas, could pass as a Kate Bush understudy and that's an observation not a criticism of the breathless 'The Only One I Could Stand'. Leaving the sensuous for the saucy and 'Lie With You' is Madonna trying to get you on the floor, so what they may lack in originality they make up for' some of the way with style and sumptuous cheek. ; . L 7 are at the other end of the dance floor, in fact they're trying to tear it up. Four badass broads from LA, L 7 abuse guitars like the Lime Spiders used to in their prime. Call it grunge, call it the trash aesthetic or Sub-Pop, this is the backside of rock 'n' roll that was meant to offend. . . . ■ , ’ With Parental Advisory Explicit Lyrics inflamed on the front sleeve, you know for sure that the term "fornicate" won't be used, no matter how ironically. 'Wargasm' is a fleet-footed stun guitar opener, a ‘ softener for the classic pop wastage ■ of 'Pretend .You're Dead' and { the breakneck snot of 'Slide'. 'One More Thing' crawls like a malevolent Boris the Spider leaving 'Monster' to crunch a more . agile ' tread and 'Shitlist' to warn you of the consequences if this record ain't on your hitlist. 'This Ain't Pleasure' crashes the album to a close, immortality beckons and L 7, pleasure seekers, have responded. Lock up your sons. GEORGE KAY HEAD LIKE A HOLE , 13 (Wildside) . Boom! 17,000 ks this sucker has travelled, and damn, it certainly sounds fine. Forget any preconceptions about dumb metal, getting naked Or whatever, this goes way beyond that. HLAH are most certainly in control of things on 13, it's a hunk of pure power. The riffing just never lets up,: World War 3 with guitars and tunes, from the first assault of 'Hole' on in. It's the guitars that count on this one' sure, the rhythm section are just fine, and the vocals are an urgent chant that occasionally slips into singing and sounds great, but it's those gats that shake the ground. They veer from simple thrashy rock on tracks like 'Life's No Joke' to some moments of totally phased psychedelia (most of the second side in fact). I'm sure they'll be lumbered with with the obvious Chillis/Faith No More comparisons, which is pretty unjustified. Aside from not taking things too seriously and an interest in nudity and body paint, there's not a lot to base this on. Head Like A Hole have a much heavier style, this NZ rock in the classic raised on AC/DC sense, with some teenage punk happening too — tough and urgent, and hooky. Very hooky, 'Never Mind Today' is real singalong territory, as is the first single 'Fish Across Face'. , . I'm sure much credit should be given to . Brent MacLaughin whose . production is great, a real upfront bombastic sound that totally suits what the band are doing. (I swear ' the boy is making like a heavy metal ; Phil Spector) I'm sure there are weak

spots here, like it's a pretty unrelenting experience, and the more wacked out moments like the Sesame Street tribute on 'l2' may be a little much for some, but I sure don't see it like that.

13 can stand proud amongst international competition, and it's as much a great, maybe even landmark, local production as any of late. Like it or not, New Zealand bands from Push Push and the Headless Chickens to the Dead C, SPUD and Second Child are making music that's as good if not better than what the Yanqui industry can turn out, and 13 rates up there with the best. World domination can't be far away. KIRK GEE

SWEET LIZARD ILLTET (Warners) ELECTRIC LOVE HOGS (London) An illtet is a musical collective formed for depraved anarchic relief, or as the Sweet Lizards say 'tet' of- . fensive and 'ill' intensive (whatever that means). However, if anarchy is their mandate, they fulfil it in the extreme. Their debut album is a consumate pants down and cheeks up salute to the music industry, to George Bush and his New World Order, to social prejudice and society itself. ; . Not the cliched patronising whines of "hold hands and make it better", but an unforgiving condemnation of "the system" and everything that exists within it. Musically, it is the intersection of topheavy funk basslines, reggae beats, jazz improvisation, Chili Pepper rock and Beastie Boy rap blasted out at • one heck of a pace and intertwined by Public Enemy mixer Chris Shaw. Though "progressive" tends to be a dangerous term, it is perhaps justified in that the Lizard's sound exists purely for itself, not asking for acceptance or wanting to be under stood. A self-consumed 60 minutes . of gloriously arrogant guitar and release of raw emotion, rather than a blatant, commercially sensible leap onto the latest bandwagon. This could adequately describe the Electric Love Hogs similarly eponymous debut. The vocals owe . much to glam rock and the BeachBoys' harmonising. Lyrically the Hogs stray from political correctness to the likes of 'Hey little girl I'm a talking to you, this is Mr Fun' and 'Every chick I meet wants to sleep with me, when it comes to making ' love I'm the best there can be'. Though the instrumentation draws upon (steals from?) a wide range of influences, . from the quirkiness of Jane's Addiction to the power guitar of Metal and Suicidal Tendancies' thrash, it waters down' those ele-. ments and rarely achieves anything more than loud mundanity. While exceptions exist, the stadium rock : of 'Tribal Monkey' and grunt of 'I Feel Like Steve' standing out, mostly this is overly image-conscious, lyrically superficial and incapable of sustaining interest. TONY MILLER , WYNONNA JUDD Wynonna (Curb) This album confirms that Wynonna Judd is one woman who can do , without her mum. Seeing the Judds in concert proved that Wynonna was the voice — a voice with more twists than a Kentucky back road, more power than a John Deere tractor. And Naomi? A goodtime gal focal point.. The partnership ended last year when chronic active hepatitis forced Naomi into tear-sodden retirement. Shed a tear for her illness if you are so inclined but smile for the sake of country music — with over-protective mamma gone Wynonna has crafted a stronger album than anything the Judds did in their eight years. The songs are stronger, with fewer teaspoons of sugar stirred in even the tracks with the religious bent don't preach. Producer Tony Brown — the man who has twiddled knobs for Nanci Griffith and Lyle Lovetthas figured that Judd's greatest ;• asset is her voice and. shunted it forward. Her band which includes mandolin whiz Sam Bush, Lovett regular Leland Skiar on bass and sometime Rodney Crowell/ Rosanne Cash lead guitarist Steuart Smith, sound as if they have been told to play it straight. . The result is an album which often leaves the country and rocks on into town, so far into town that Wynonna debuted at No 4 on the US pop charts. The Dave Loggins,

ballad 'She Is His Only Need' is a standout. Judd twists, dips and spirals her voice through a standard "boy falls in love with girl and they get old together" story in a way which has you repeatedly reaching for repeat. KEVIN NORQUAY DEEE-LITE Infinity Within (Elektra) If their first World Clique had shined merely because of clothes and silliness we'd have been left with little more than the B-525. The difference is Deee-Lite's dancefloor heritage — a collage of everything New York, London and Europe can throw up. Infinity Within celebrates those roots. The opener 'IFO' samples a real UFO and - curioser! - real drums. Elastic rhythms are sweetened by airy keylines in 'Runaway' and 'Heart Be Still.' Divine vocalist. Lady Kier simmers in the lower registers, conserving her energy for a batch of songs with real musical clout: 'I Won't Give Up' is a classy soul number, 'Vote Baby Vote' a dizzy political blipVert: 'Two Clouds Above Nine' is a great love song and the George Clinton influence swells in 'I Dreamt I was Falling Through a Hole in the Ozone Layer.' .

There is helium kookiness: 'Pussycat Meow' and ‘Come on in, the Dreams are Fine.' There is more camp genius, there are more BPMs than you can shake a stick at. And there are more guest musicians: Bootsy Collins is like God - everywhere, along with Bernie Worrell and Maceo Parker.

While other groups like the Beastie Boys are going back to the old Profile sound (grainy black & white, bleak and underfed), DeeeLite are coming out in Russ Meyer technicolour. If that seems overly playful you may be missing the point. CHAD TAYLOR PAUL ÜBANA JONES The Things Which Touch Me So (Pagan) The first impression of Paul Übana Jones' second album for Pagan is one of honesty and warmth which genuinely reflects the man's character. An album of solo voice and guitar can leave an artist bare and naked, no frills or embellishments to disguise any flaws or shortfallings. No worries here. The artist bares his soul and his talent and this set of twelve songs reveals a man at home and comfortable with himself and a guitar and his voice. His impassioned and sincere vocals, whether inter-

preting Dylan (a fine rereading of 'Ballad of a Thin Man') or rewriting Bobby Womack ('I Used To Love Her') and in his own originals, communicate from and with the heart. Annie Crummer provides an enthusiastic backing vocal on the later song, delicately complementing Übana's own vocal and guitar gymnastics with fine soulful wailing. I'm sure that Bobby would approve. The subtle and empathetic production (by Übana, Trevor Reekie and Nigel Stone) has the voice up and on top and the guitar ranging from ringing chords to delicate picking that takes in all styles from classical through folk and blues to jazz. This is not a blues album. In fact the one true blues track (Little Walter's 'Blues With A Feeling') is probably the cut that doesn't sit with the test with its strained vocals and simple rhythm guitar. The hypnotic instrumental 'Sade' is stunning in technique and tone and reflective of the depth of sound and soul in the guitar . A remarkable original effort that leaves the listener touched by the hand and voice of a talented man. It will be interesting to compare this effort with the album recorded in the US for Flying Fish a week or so after this one. JONN PILLEY BEASTIE BOYS Check Your Head (Capitol) Long since dismissed as no-hopers, the Beastie boys now return with an album that lands pretty much in between the accessibility of their debut and the stoned intensity of Paul's Boutique, with a few new twists to keep the B-boys totally in their own sphere. The likes of Rolling Stone et al are going to tell you ad nauseum about how wacked it all is, the boys play instruments, mix Nugent and Biz Markie and are just so now it hurts, so we'll ignore all that and stick to the simple facts, like just how fine this album is.

The Beasties haven't lost any of their ability to pick a stunning hook out of nowhere and turn it into a song. As I type 'So Watcha Want' booms in the background with its horribly simple beat, dumb distorted vocals and layers of weird little samples spinning around. Hardly standard rap territory, but then again neither are the infectious 60s jazz excursions that almost dominate Check Your Head or even the actual proper rap tracks for that matter. Where the Beasties do rap it's basically old school stompin', the beats power and the rhymes cleverness are the focal points and on tracks

like the opener 'Jimmy James' or 'Professor Booty' it all kicks big time. The non-trad outings are where things get real nasty though. 'Live From PJ's' is a fine example, starting out as a mellowish jazz jam that could be incidental music for some low budget early 70s flick, it soon gets messy. The band keep playing, but with a dirty funk edge, the vocals go from lounge to garage and the whole thing has one of the funkiest drum breaks you'll ever hear. It's this sort of thing that makes Check Your Head such a tasty excursion, an almost random collision of whatever three easily excited young men happened to be hooked onto at the time.

No doubt the detractors will find plenty to stomp on, but for those of us who are more concerned with how the damn thing sounds, Check Your Head is pretty much perfect. KIRK GEE

FAITH HO MORE Angel Dust (Slash) Diversity is the only common element in Faith No More's latest, an album that thrives on lyrical and musical contradiction. 'Midlife Crisis' is perhaps the only track that would sit comfortably on The Real Thing — for the most part Mike Patten has left his style of staccato nasal shouts behind for vocals that vacillate between singing and conversational yells. While keyboardist Roddy Bottum (hmm) still sets FNM apart from the rest of the hard rock genre, now dance beats and samples (as on ' Small Victory') also differentiate their sound.

The tracks leap between styles in frenetic, somewhat random fashion, yet somehow it all comes together. 'R.V.' a kind of Tom Waits meets Elvis western ballad rests perfectly beside the thumping bass riffs and Metallica-isms of 'Smaller and Smaller'. Angel Dust is tinged with sarcastic parody of Americana (an all-American cheerleading chorus chants "Be aggressive" on one track while a working class "white trash" bigot extols the values of his pot stomach on another) and also tongue in cheek plagiarism (Clapton 's famous/Layla' hook can be heard in 'Malpractice').

The sound has moved further from the heavy rock sound, but is no closer to any other singular style. The cocktail of influences that work on FNM continue to deny attempts to pigeon-hole their sound. This album is certainly better both musically and lyrically than the previous

and it embodies FNM's almost hypocritical unpre-dictability and nonconformist approach to music perfectly. It ensures they will carve a musical niche for them inhabited by no others. TONY MILLER

MATTHEW SWEET Girlfriend (Zoo) This album tosses allusions in all sorts of directions. Under its title the sleeve features a couple of 50s photos of movie star Tuesday Weld (in your dreams Matthew!). The track 'Evangeline' is an adoration of an underground comic character while another number seems pretty obviously an obsessive fan letter to Winona Ryder. Yet by no means all of Girlfriend is devoted to such fantasies. On tracks like 'Looking At The Sun' Sweet shows an astute awareness of the perils of sexual obsession. On 'Divine Intervention' he even wrestles with theology. And just as his lyrics juggle youthful energy with adult sobriety,. so does the music. For instance 'Don't Go' about coping with the pain following a loved one's death, is set to the jagged guitar of Lou Reed sideman Robert Quine. Instrumentally Sweet sticks to the standard rockband format with either Quine or Richard Lloyd (former Television) handling most of the leads. . What prevents the sound becoming simply another spiky New York guitar band are Sweet's vocal treatments and occasionally varied arrangement. Again,

as with his lyrics, Sweet looks in some unexpected directions. The creamy vocal harmonies of 'Your Sweet Voice' are redolent of California. 'Thought I Knew You' could be first-rate REM while 'Winona' adapts the laid back acoustic plod of mid 70s Neil Young.

Nonetheless Sweet is no mere chameleon; there's an original and interesting identity at work in these 15 tracks. Girlfriend is his third solo album and has more than enough going for it to take Matthew Sweet beyond his present minor cult status. PETER THOMSON LYNCH MOB (Elektra) With Keith Olsen producing, George Lynch and his Mob's second album is a more refined and polished affair than Wicked Sensation. The power ballad 'Dream Until Tomorrow' has the kind of commercial touch to it that put Mr Big into the real big time with an orchestral section added to back Lynch's guitar and sitar. Unless you check the sleeve notes you probably wouldn't notice that new singer Robert Mason has replaced Oni Logan and ex-Deep Purple man Glen Hughes also assists on vocals.

The cover of Queen's 'Tie Your Mother Down' has come at just the right time and, apart from the lead break, it stays very true to the original. Lynch Mob lean more to the pop side this time, but the good hard stuff turns up later on 'When

Darkness Calls' and there's still quite a bit of guitar shredding. GEOFF DUNN

THE BEAUTIFUL SOUTH 0898 Beautiful South (Go Discs) A HOUSE lAm The Greatest (Setanta Records) REVOLVER Baby's Angry (Virgin) PALE SAINTS In Ribbons (4AD) Squeezing a few things that aren't quite compatible into the same space makes for some interesting comparisons. First you get what's been loosely termed as northern (England) soul, then erudite Irish artfulness, the expected Ride sound-alike followed by the pick of this disparate bunch, exploding snowflakes from Leeds. . • '

In that order, Paul Heaton's development, for me, has been incidental. Two Beautiful South albums have drifted by since the Housemartins' split without raising the thermometer, but his sincerity and unaffected writing have the right hallmarks of humanist soulsearchings.

0898 sounds like the best of Beautiful South's eminently sensible and compassionate outpourings to date and although Heaton may still sound like he's spent one too many nights in Bible class, the songs here are beginning to catch the watchfulness of his lyrics.' 36D' is a pretty powerful slap at women who exploit the fact that they're bigger than others, while 'Here It Is' is a

bizarre and brooding question that poses "Do you know who you love? " One for the more mature listener.

Described somewhere as sensitive, Dublin's A House are a wordy, arcane alternative to the simplemindedness of many of the current guitar bands. This, their third album is produced by Orange Juice's Edwyn Collins, a tell-tale sign that the band come from left field and that's borne out by 'Endless Arts'' list of famous dead people and vocalist David Couse's lustful dirge, 'When I First Saw You'.

Couse is a very droll and blunt customer with a colloquial style of singing that invites comparisons with obvious gurus like John Cale and Jonathon Richman. This approach pays handsome dividends on 'You're Too Young' and 'Slipping Away' and if on the likes of 'I Am The Greatest' and 'I Don't Care' they veer too close to being smartasses, just remember in an age when conformity is paying the bills A House dare to be provocative and different.

The same certainly can't be said for London-based Revolver, a three piece fronted by guitarist/ vocalist Mat Flint, he with the shock of blonde hair and Ride-ish photogenic pop appeal. Baby's Angry is a collection of their first three EPs and features an empty DB bottle on the reverse sleeve indicating some Kiwi connection with poor taste. The music is similarly unexceptional, with Flint calling all the shots around guitar-based tunes that are competent, easily digested and too predictable. Still, like some fledgling bands there's often hints of potential and here it flickers through songs like 'Painting Pictures' where Flint's plaintive vocal contrasts to the ensuing drilling guitars. But Revolver meanwhile have a ways to go before they threaten the Ride hegemony of pretty boy guitar pop. Ending where we started, with a move north, catches Leeds' Pale Saints in the throes of actually improving on the frosty, fragile glow of their first album. Last year's Flesh Balloon EP contained four distinct ideas/ approaches crystallised into four superb songs , two of which, 'Hunted' and the chilling brilliance of 'Hair Shoes', now in finished form, have made it onto In Ribbons. Pale Saints come from a similar sort of evolutionary strain that produced the likes of the more conventional very English sides of King Crimson and Pink Floyd. At the core of their songs there is a very depend-

able guitar-centred focus that allows vocalists Meriel Barham and lan Masters the luxury of weightlessness and this contrast, shrouded in an ethereal feel and delicate tunes, make this band evocative if not unique.

'Throwing Back The Apple' and 'Ordeal' are examples of guitar aggression, as close as they get to orthodox rock 'n' roll delivery. 'Hair Shoes', it's worth repeating, is stunning, as is the escalating tension of the beautiful 'Feather Frame', while 'Shell', elevated by Caroline Lavelle's cello, is a glorious tune too desolate to be sentimental.

1990's The Comforts of Madness was heady enough, even more remarkable since it was a first album. In Ribbons is an even better mixture of the seeming opposites of the concrete and cerebral. GEORGE KAY

ANGELIQUE KIDJO Logozo Polygram Despite the current Africa consciousness in black music, we seldom see releases from African musicians unless some famous white musician has "discovered" them. Record companies are afraid language or unfamiliar sounds will create barriers in the local market. While West African Angelique Kid jo sings in her own language she certainly has no problem communicating on this record. The beats are somewhere between familiar dance grooves and roots rhythms of West Africa. Kidjo has taken the African drums and vocal tradition a nd blended it with some catchy horn riffs and funky guitar to form a style which is both appealing and refreshing to the nonAfrican ear. This formula has already led to success in Australia where the Sydney station JJJ launched the single 'We We' into the Aussie charts earlier this year. Her ease with technology and Western culture is matched by an image (flat-top and Zebra skin) which would excuse the casual observer from thinking they had just seen the latest Grace Jones record cover. And yet there is contrast between the cool image and the content of the music which leads you into deeper places a couple of listenings. The translations provided tell of Kidjo's concerns about the world becoming too greedy and the need for political freedom and children's rights. And there are quiet songs such as the acoustic version of the classic Swahili love song Malaika

popularised in the 60s by Myriam Makeba. However, these deeper concerns never overpower the optimism and joy which pervades Kidjo's vision and spills out into the music. And it is this heady brew of joy and depth which will ensure you'll keep coming back to this album in years to come. . . NICHOLAS JONES KILLERS Murder One (BMG) Killers is the new band put together by ex-iron Maiden vocalist Paul Dianno some 10 years after parting with them. With a scream and a drum avalanche of falling rocks comes 'lmpaler', played at breakneck speed and sounding more than a little like Judas Priest. The furious pace does relent slightly for some of the numbers that follow, but the emphasis is totally on the heavy side and Dianno isn't letting anyone forget about his past. They've even done a version of 'Remember Tomorrow' which he co-wrote with Steve Harris back in 1980 for the first Iron Maiden album and the group’s name is of course taken from the title of the second album. Killers are also supporting Maiden for some dates on the Fear The Dark tour so that's kinda nice. Apart from a surprise version of T-Rex's 'Children of the Revolution' the material stays along expected lines and if they hadn't called themselves Killers, Iron Priest would be just as suitable. GEOFF DUNN STEVE WYNN Dazzling Display (RNA/Warners) When the first Dream Syndicate album roared so impressively to life in the early eighties, it was apparent that American guitar rock had been reborn with a vengeance. Since those Days of Wine and Roses, however, it's been a case of two steps forward, three leaps back on each successive album for the band and founder/

front man Steve Wynn. The last few Dream Syndicate albums and Wynn's first solo album were symptomatic of his loss of energy and melody and infatuation with the Big American Rock Sound.

Enter 1992, with a host of luminescent guest stars and a second solo album, Dazzling Display. The opening track, 'Drag', is anything but and indicative of the album as a whole. It's still got that larger than life sound that Wynn obviously relishes, but this time round he's got the balance right and coupled it with exuberant, hook laden songs. A couple of listens and most of these tunes will have wormed their way into your head. For the most part the order of the day is searing guitars, often embellished with strings, horns and hammond organ, but the wistful 'Halo', eerily produced 'Light of Hope' and 90s sound of ‘Bonnie & Clyde' show that Wynn has his other musical bases covered. Not everything dazzles on this classy, mature album but where it doesn't there is a more than healthy glow. MARTIN BELL PETER CASE Six Pack of Love (Geffen) Peter Case has one of those talents which seem forever caught in the limbo of not-quite-commercial success. Credibility with his peers is well established. For this, his third solo album, the band members' pedigree range from working with Elvis Costello to Bob Dylan, even Steve Miller. Mitchell Froom co-produces as well as plays bass. As a songwriter Case also gets to work with some impressive names John Prine, Billy Swan and lovable looney Tonio K among them. So it's.no surprise that the album bristles with smart cynical lyrics (of which 'the worst thing you can think of usually works the best' is typical). After a decade or so

in the business Case knows his song craft. He keeps things tight, simple and well structured. It's only in tuneful originality that he sometimes comes up short. A nifty riff still needs a good melodic hook and several of these don't stick in the way you want them to. For example, while the lyric of 'Wonderful 99' is a clever parody of those gungho military songs, the tune simply rips off 'Sink The Bismarck' minus that song's catchy refrain. However the album does contain four or five unqualified successes, including the country inflected 'Never Coming Home' and the brooding 'Last Time I Looked'. Not quite enough for a full six-pack however. PETER THOMSON DEAD MOON In The Graveyard Stranded in the Mystery Zone (Tombstone) 1992 and "the kids just wanna hear some badass rock 'n' roll" or some such fucking lie ... the evidence — Nirvana selling container loads of something that smells enough like REM for me to be holding my nose pretty darn tight . . . yeah, things' are pretty rooted ... pretty goddam moribund... but there is good news and here comes some of it right now. Fred Cole is a guy in his late 40s who has been doing much the same type of thing with little or no deviation from his initial path, since along around the time I was born — sure 'nuff evidence of either a guy who was right in the first place or a complete loser... a purely academic distinction in any case, cos in such lame times as these the urgent onus must be upon the aesthetic result and not whatever strategy or lack of same lies behind it, am I right, yes I am. So, the goods (and good they for-cryin'-out-Pete's-sake) are — Fred, his wife/ bass player Toody and drummer Andrew Loomis, the basic three-instrument rock line-up employed with maximum efficiency

and scariness, the sausage in the roll being Fred's voice, a fiendish howl somewhere in the vicinity of Roky Erickson's Martian E . . . this recorded in the barest documentary manner at home on four-track and cut in mono at the same location ..

. fantastic songs too, the archaic and oft-travelled chord progressions suffused with a new and preternatural fire — if you know the Lollipop Shoppe LP (Fred's best-known 60s work, reissued by Big Beat a few years back so you oughta be able to find it without too much hassling) you probably won't believe me when I tell you his songs now are even better, but, no shit.

The weird thing about this music is how a virtual extinct species can sound so vital, I dunno, it just oughta make a lot of people trash their stoopid record collections and hang their stoopid heads in shame. As to these records (and there are two more I haven't heard yet), they may be hard to find, but fuck it, pay S3O, S4O, whatever criminal price is demanded... it's either that or pay off the kidnappers of your immortal soul at some later date. They're playing here later this year, so maybe you'll have to wait till then to understand what I'm saying .. . don't die first, I'm sure somebody somewhere loves you. DUANE ZARAKOV THE ONLY ONES The Immortal Story (Columbia) SQUEEZE Greatest Hits (A&M) Outside of a handful of bands and one-off flashes by others, punk was a blunt and inarticulate form of expression. It's great value was that it paved the way for others who wanted to write songs without the early seventies emphasis on musical expertise. The Only Ones and Squeeze owed little to punk other than that they were enhanced by this oppor-

(Polygram) Agit-pop is back with a vengeance and without its traditional flaws — clumsy “them-and-us” oppositions and the fetishization of “message” at the expense of conditions of production. You’ll be familiar by now with Consolidated’s politics of self-disgust and correspondingly anxious, convulsive music; Hiphoprisy share their producer and some of their public self doubt, but they’re generally more assured, less frenetic. Michael Franti’s raps have a grimly laconic quality that will no doubt see him compared to Gil Scott-Heron; he plays on words, names corporate names, repeatedly undermines any idea of “youth culture” as a socially disruptive force, and only sounds self-righteous when he expounds on “the politics of the personal” (will anyone sign my petition for a 10-year embargo on the public use of the word “relationship”?), The music is a kind of nightmare hip hop, the beats slowed down and the spaces filled with the kind of disorienting electronic and percussive noises you’d expect from a band made up of two exBeatnigs. It doesn’t so much rock as hammer relentlessly until you want to give in. Chances are Hiphoprisy won’t bring about the end of capitalism this decade, so why not use your meagre power as consumer to help make them pop stars? ’ '

MATTHEW HYLAND