RECORDINGS

Rip It Up, Issue 185, 1 December 1992, Page 22

RECORDINGS

CHER Greatest Hits 1965-1992 (Geffen) I'm a huge Cher fan. I think she's a female icon for our times. She's beautiful and talented, vulnerable and tough, classy and trashy (perfectly groomed and tattooed). Male critics miss the point when they make snide comments about her vocal chords. Cher is a quality spirit, her music is merely the medium, not the message. That said, there are some great tracks amongst the 16 included here. Sure, these days she sings fairly generic FM radio rock, but at its best ('lf I Could Turn BackTime', 'I Found Someone') her material possesses a rousing, uplifting verve — she might check into Heartbreak Hotel with alarming regularity but she always checks herself out again too. Only four early tracks here though; 'Dark Lady', 'Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves', 'I Got You Babe' plus a rerecording of 'Bang-Bang' with cavernous modern production, no 'And the Beat Goes On'. Cher's flat, cracked pepper voice perfectly conveys the act of defiance implicit in being a forty-something blue collar pinup. Cher is a woman giving two fingers to the male. establishment; she looks fifty times better than any man her age, flaunts her body and goes out with much younger men because they know how to have fun. Buy the album, admire the spirit and copy the wardrobe. DONNA YUZWALK STEREOLAB Peng! (Too Pure) The presence of ex-Chill Martin Kean on bass probably explains why this debut album from London-based Stereolab has achieved a local release under the auspices of the Fly-

ing In label. Not that you can hear him, as Stereolab's guitar and organ driven drone reduces the bass to a totally subliminal level. Stereolab are not about individual instruments but rather the mood which can be created by the seemingly random interplay between huge shards of instrumentation.

Anchored by the automatom-like drumming of Joe Dilworth the overall sound and approach is highly reminiscent of the Velvet Underground — the extended version of 'What Goes On' from 1969 Live being a particularly relevant example. The English-as-second language vocals of Seaya Sadier can't help but draw comparisons with Nico either. Still, if you're going to seek your inspiration from somewhere you can't do much better than the Velvets and Stereolab have managed to make the decidedly retro sound with their own indelible stamp. There is some great pulsing riffing happening on Peng! and the breezy unusually phrased vocals of Sadier make for mesmerising listening. Tracks such as 'Orgiastic' and 'Perversion' spread and swell on waves of guitar, farfisa and moog as they unfold, taking on a life of their own. Very organic I'm sure and really rather agreeable. MARTIN BELL BLIND MELON (Capitol) Every once in a while a commercial rock-pop-mainstream thing comes along that you just have to love. The Black Crowes did it for me, as did Jody Watley and En Vogue. Now Blind Melon are doing it too. Their debut has arrived with much hype and a Guns and Roses connection but even that can't put me off. People say there’s a Jane's Addiction type groove

going on but never having owned a Jane's Addiction record I don't feel qualified to comment so I'll put it into terms of records I do know. Blind Melon aren't easy to pin down but I'll go with an Allman Brothers thing with touches of the Grateful Dead only more accessible. Basically the band are simple, melodic, catchy, kicked back yokel rock. At time they get a little too introverted and drifting but this album is pretty much all brilliant tunesmithing, all twisting guitars and melodies while 'No Rain' is near perfect pop, a few minutes to get lost in. It's when the record industry can discover something like Blind Melon that you realise all those Great White and EMF records don't really matter. KIRK GEE PHARCYDE Bizarre Ride To The Pharcyde (Delicious Vinyl) ICE CUBE Predator (Priority) For a while it seemed like every ageing rocker's dream had come true and rap was pretty much played out. There was no shortage of hastily signed copycat stuff but little new sounds and very few of the old school were able to keep the quality going past a couple of albums. Fortunately this was just a temporary malaise and now things are looking just fine again. Toprove it, here are two good examples of where rap is at present. Pharcyde are the funky school, young guys with an obviously deep knowledge of jazz and funk. They use complex beats, clever little samples and some loose, stylish and flowing raps. There's plenty of smart alec interplay, check 'Yo Mama' for some inspired stupidity or 'Return of the B-Boy' for the classic

rap stance, old school rhyming with a kick. Bizarre Ride To The Pharcyde fits right in with the Cypress Hill style of things, plenty of references to Bud, just in case the whole kicked-back style of things wasn't enough to give it away. Like Cypress Hill, Pharcyde have pulled out a debut that deserves to seriously twist some heads, it's the real thing. In a thoroughly different vein is Ice Cube, the rapper of choice for today's metallers. That's not such a difficult thing to understand really, aside from the fact that he was the token rapper at this year's Lollapaloser. The Predator contains more macho posturing and tough guy schtick than a year's worth of rock poseurs and the beats are a ton heavier to boot. Mr Cube stomps and growls his way through a bunch of very hardcore numbers, complete with little insert tracks that defend his own freedom of speech. At times, it veers deep into the realm of stupid with gangster nursery rhymes and the like but on the whole The Predator kicks.. The songs are strong, the feel is heavy and it's all downright punk. The future of rap is safe for now. KIRK GEE JOHN LEE HOOKER Boom Boom (Virgin) Damn few good albums by septuagenarians, but then there's damn few good anythings by septuagenarians. Reasons are two-fold: They're either 1) dead, or 2) can't get it up. But in the words of an exception (Bukowski) "I could just flog life off, gently waiting to die. Ah, what a horror that would be joining the world's way. I must mount a comeback. I must crawl inch by inch back into the sun of creation. Let there be

light! Let there be me! I will beat the odds one more time." And so: John Lee Hooker. If you perused The Healer or Mr Lucky and "want more" then this album will "give you more". The guest list is again extended Jimmie Vaughan, Robert Cray,

Albert Collins) and further still (Charlie Musselwhite, John Hammond — recutting 'Bottle Up And Go' which the Hook first recut with Canned Heat 20 years ago) but the REAL GOODS are where Hooker is solo — not "solo" like

Clapton, alone and acoustic with a seven piece electric band — but on his lonesome. ’ • This was where he started (check out the early Detroit years, especially '4B — 'SO) and where his unique genius is most . evident. Tapping eights with his right foot and quarters with his left, and modally going to ' shit. I'll let Ry Cooder explain: "There's rhythmic tension in -: his feet; the guitar drives straight down the middle. Tell me that . 'isn't hip!" Hip enough to make 1 most everyone else seem like an extra in that "let's have an ice cream party" TV ad. Which is to say; like a schmoo. . ANDREW PALMER THE PUDDLE -V Into The Moon (Flying Nun) : Good year for this band. Live At The Teddy Bear Club LP and now this studio LP and re-issued live EP in one package. Recorded on. Teac reel to reel four-track by Alastair Galbraith, this cost about as much as some Auck- . land bands do their demos for. Funny, huh? 'Monogamy', 'Sodom and Gomorrah', 'lnto The Moon'... old songs finally documented. Pop, so pure, no distilling to be done. George Henderson is hungry for ac- , tion, his guitar burns (clean with reverb), his songs space out and his band (Puddle Mark V or something) rock solid. Treble cut is sorely lacking, which calls for a little home mixing to beef up the punch. The party continues with Pop Lib, recorded 1985. Different line-up (although Ross Jackson champeen of sedentary bass players is on board for both Into The Moon and this) it shows the . sheer wackiness of the band in performance — George forgetting to play the guitar when singing, Ross Jackson maestro of the single note losing his place, organ, flute and brass instruments interceding at various angles while Lesley Paris drives the beat home. , . Some off the wall stuff here, don't let the word 'pop' fool you. They do a good death jazz version of Syd Barrett's 'Candy and a Current Bun'. This EP has . been purged of some noises audible on the previous vinyl release. Altogether a solid release showcasing this severely underrated/ unknown band. Word is they're gonna cross Cook Strait real soon to dose the North Island. Take no prisoners, fear no fools. C. HEAZLEWOOD KEITH RICHARDS Main Offender (Virgin) The eyes glimmer demonically from the cover: it's the disso-lute-Keith photographic cliche. And inside, the sounds are just as - familiar: sweaty, grinding guitar riffs through valve amps . and slashed speaker cones, It's like a Keith Richards soundcheck, with just the simple crystal-clear snare of Steve Jordan to really work against in the personality-free X-pensive Winos. Richards's first solo effort, Talk is Cheap, got short shrift for his lazy, croaking vocals. But that gripe missed the point ; - for years, his singing has been more credible, and musical, than his friend Brenda's. The record was really a compendium of black R&B grooves: James Brown here, Al Green there, Chuck Berry around and around, all played with immaculate feeling. The songs , may have been unmemorable, but here was Keith at home, . playing blues from the Dartford delta. ' k--. Main Offender is still Keith-after-hours, but it's a lot later in the evening. Any attempt at a real song is abandoned for the goove and the riff, all delivered with the characteristic opentune bite. There's catatonic

skank, cheeful chugalug pop and trademarked guitar-fuelled rock'n'roll. But 'Hate It When You Leave' cuts it as a song of substance: slow and passionate, it could be a classic R&B ballad from Stax or an undiscovered Delta love song. Main Offender is unambitious though not , without its satisfactions, but it makes its loose-but-crafted predecessor look as polished as Sticky Fingers. For hardcore Keithophiles. CHRIS BOURKE ALICE IN CHAINS Dirt (Columbia) On first listen it would be easy to dismiss Alice In Chains' third record as a straightforward metal/ballad album but unlike the re-hashed shit of the same genre, this stuff is too dark, sick and clever to throw on the crap metal pile. Brilliantly produced by Dave Jerden, the instruments all have a life of. their own, smothered and strangled on top by Layne Staley's incredible many faceted voice, sometimes in . beautiful harmony with guitarist/ songwriter Jerry Cantrell's, other times stretched into a painful Axl-like nasal cry. There's a strong smack/ junkie theme running through a lot of these songs ('Sickman', 'Junkhead', 'Dirt'' 'Godsmack') with the occasional change in lyrical content to family disillusionment, wanting to be buried etc. Doom and despair aside, the music is awesome, huge hammerings of power guitar with weird psychedelic breaks, Layne and the guitar having anguished screaming fights throughout, all backed with a meaty rhythm and big crystal clear drum sounds. This album is not for the happy and harmonious. It's depressing, dark and heavy and rubs your nose in life's shit. After listening to the whole thing you feel drained but blissfully so. Get this, it's good for you! SHIRLEY CHARLES DEAD CENTRE Compilation (Rage Noise) Who would have thought this kind of punishment was going down in sunny Nelson? Dead Centre is a compilation tape from that town of thrash/ speed metal, exceptions being the Spinal Tap-like Psycho Rock Cult and Who Are We? whose singer sounds like Siouxsie having a heart attack. Dead Centre was recorded at the. Community Arts Centre to

promote the idea of a community recording studio and the result is a high quality tape with clear production from Shayne O'Neill and an abundance of skilled playing and nasty vocals from bands like Bloodwych (who impressed with the thrash groove of 'She Had To Die'), Catalyst, Walter Mitty and Double B and Twice the T. Their 'Pumpkin Soup' being the only (mock-funk) exception to the heavy metal rule, along with Shayne O'Neill's Mirage experiment 'Gothic/ Human Nature'. Well worth checking out. DONNA YUZWALK MY SIN Tribes (Endless Music) * It's one thing (and certainly not a bad thing) to be down on corporate music but it's a selfdefeating argument when just about everyone good winds up on a major. Well,' it's time to disprove that deal again. Even ignoring the likes of Touch and Go or Dischord or other big indies (?!) there's still a wealth of brilliant music out there if you can be bothered to look. Case in point is My Sin whose Tribes is one of the finest slabs of sound I've heard all year. My Sin are hard to pin down as there are all sorts of disclaimers on the sleeve as to how they're not a band and how no guitars or acoustic instruments were used. Despite this, Tribes has some of the hugest damn riffs you've heard since Ozzy left Sabbath and whether they're synthesised or not, they still make you feel like a very insignificant part of the universe. Factor in a vocalist who .is kind of off-hand but angry as hell with it and some sharp use of sampling and sound bites and it's an impressive mix overall. Some of this could well be a straight up rock band. 'White Uncle Tom' is basically a better song than any of the recent crop of metal pretenders have been able to trot out, while other parts of the album make the likes of Laibach or Front 242 look like the pompous disco pansies they are. Basically what I'm trying to say here is, you need this. Write to Endless Music at Box 647, Hollywood, CA 90078. • KIRK GEE THE GREAT UNWASHED Collection THE TERMINALS Cul-de-Sac (Flying Nun) Two from the Flying Nun time capsule, firstly a collection of the recorded works of the Great Unwashed. For those not in the

know, the Great Unwashed formed out of the debris of the seminal Clean. Initially comprised of the Kilgour brothers David and Hamish, they kicked against the pop sensibilities of their former band by releasing a mildly eccentric, shambolic and completely irreverent album Clean Out of Our Minds. Sort of a Kilgour 'lnstant Karma', the album swings from pop highs to a clutch of non-songs which start, jiggle about a bit and then dribble to a close. If those tracks have you reaching for the skip button, don't be too hasty as there are plenty of minor gems lurking in the confines of this release. 'Thru the Trees', 'Hold Onto the Rail' and 'Obscurity Blues' are particularly noteworthy tracks but the supreme moment is the classic 'Neck of the Woods'. Dating from 1984's Singles EP, the second incarnation of the band and Snapper's Peter Gutteridge on bass, contribute the final five tracks, typified by a more electric, though ultimately more dated sound. Classic cuts aside, the real heart and legacy left by the Great Unwashed was proof that you could strum a guitar, whack a few biscuit tins, call it music AND get away with it. Some of it might sound like shit, but to many it was inspirational shit. Striking a more traditional though equally skewed rock 'n' roll path are Christchurch's Terminals. I suspect for a lot of people, the Terminals are one of those "heard of them but never heard them" bands. Cul-de-Sac collects the Terminals first EP and album into one handy package and may go some way towards redressing that situation. Drawing their inspiration from the garage band revolution and spearheaded by the supercharged warbling baritone of Stephen Cogle, these early recordings are well worth investigating. A black mark, however, against the insipid production which- leaves the rhythm section sounding rather underdone and the guitars distant and watered down. Running to nineteen tracks, a certain homogeneity creeps into the songs which tends to take the gloss off the best moments. Shame as it's a genuine case of too much of a good thing rather than any intrinsic fault of the songs. MARTIN BELL MALCHICKS Lotus (EP) (Failsafe) Auckland's Malchicks have stuck to their artistic guns, carv-

ing out their own niche in the local scene, being rigorously non-rockist purveyors of gui-tar-based rock. Their sound is composed of dualling guitar textures, low-key vocals drifting beween Coralie and Matt, and straight-ahead drumming. Allusive lyrics and discreet use of guitar.effects like wah and phasing add to the dreamscape effect. Malchicks music is multilayered, cleverly arranged in shifting parts, vocals and guitars merge and separate, enveloping you in sound. The drawback is that the melodies are indistinct, meaning that the songs don't quite worm their way under the skin as they should. Or, the parts of the songs are stronger than the whole. But there are some interesting parts that hint at abilities yet to be exploited: the widly dischordant intro to 'Lotus Eater', the psychedelic phasing near the end of 'At The Edge'. Things like this make you wish the Malchicks would lose just a little of their cool, mix some primary colour with the pastels, and toss some of that restraint and discretion out the window. DONNA YUZWALK PAUL KELLY , Live, May 1992 (Mushroom) Paul Kelly is the poet laureate of Australia. His influences are as much Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson as Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie. For this live double (at a budget price)

he's in solo acoustic mode, performing 22 songs written since his moving acoustic comeback of 1985, Post. He stands naked and exposed, and what emerges is his personable charisma battling his shyness, his sense of humour and ability to craft timeless songs. Kelly's recent acoustic concerts in Auckland were a galling reminder of how many of his songs mean so much to so many. He could have done a completely different two-hour set and still not satisfied all the requests. Kelly has already released a classy collection of Bsides this year; his output, and its quality, is staggering. The songs are full of romance and ratbags, deft images and utterly believable scenes. A two-line couplet can evoke an alcoholic's misery, a loving couple's ecstasy or years of Australian history. And like a troubadour of old, his songs become part of the culture, as narrative ballads evolve into national singalongs. The simple guitar and harmonica settings here could do with some fleshing out (as in his recent shows) to reveal the melodies‘hidden within. Nevertheless Kelly had outgrown his band of skilled j ourneymen, the Messengers. Where he takes his rich talents from here will be crucial, and fascinating. Meanwhile, we've got this charming memento of the period Paul Kelly's songwriting came to fruition.

CHRIS BOURKE

OUT FROM THE COLD 1964-72 GET THE PICTURE 1964-72 TOM THUMB Ludgate Hill/ The Singles (Jayrem/ Legenz) -'6os NZ rock — there's 50 skidillion tons of the shit still hanging round somewhere out there, and a heckuva lot of it DOES NOT SUCK. The two compilation volumes here are packed to the nose-cone with stuff ranging from crude garage R&B blast to the decadent hippy-gumbo of '69-72: a period of . high adventure, low stoopidity and general any-thing-goes that NZ musicians pitched into as enthusiastically as anyone anywhere. Nearly half the stuff here slops approximately into the r'n'b/ punk bag, a genre which at its best spewed forth some of the greatest rock music ever (for eg., a buncha 16-year-olds calling themselves the Roadrunners, 16 year olds for fucksake and they just toss off the Pretty Things' 'LSD' effortless and natural as flickin' boogers), but more typically consisted of endless endear-ingly-inept readings of the standard texts - like the Bitter End goofing thru 'Too Much Monkey Business' — ridiculously fast, they don't know the words, what the hex, it still sounds pretty great . .. Plenty of stuff like this, much of it you're unlikely to've heard before as well as a few actual hits (cos this stuff was actual pop currency back then, o'course) from the likes of Peter Nelson and the Castaways and Bari and the Breakaways... all worth a sniff, and like I said, some of it truly awesome. • Next major category is late60s (ie experimentally-inclined, psychedelically-informed) pop; you could do a lot of weird things back then and it could still be potential pop music, and so even when this stuff isn't especially great it's still generally of some interest. The real heavies of NZ pop back then were the Fourmyula, represented by the great 'My Mama George' on 'Get The Picture' and just about equally cool is the Simple Image's (of 'Spinning Spinning Spinning' fame) 'The Grooviest Girl In The World' and the Dizzy Limits' 'Alone'. . . . which sorta leads into the last semi-definable category cos the Dizzy Limits became Timber jack, represented here by the sitar-propelled spookery of 'Dahli Mohamed' and by then it was the 70s — country-rock, jazz-rock, progressive-rock and what-have-you punted vari-

ously by the likes of Headband, Quincy Conserve and Ticket. Yep, those were the days (as Mary Hopkins said). So OK - two pretty interesting and representative volumes with skeletal but OK liner notes and not too much duplication of stuff off other comps . . . you could do a bunch worse.

Wellington's Tom Thumb existed in one form or another from 1966 - 1970 and within that time rode the range from basic r'n'b to pop sophistication to proto-heavy, with varying degrees of commercial and aesthetic success. They never got an album out at the time but this CD compiles all their 45 s along with five previously unreleased cover versions from their early days. Their first single backed a fairly lame version of 'Respect' with the OK 'Midnight Snack' but the next two were their acknowledged classics - the Small Faces 'What'cha Gonna Do About It' backed with the 13th Floor Elevators' 'You're Gonna Miss Me', and the original 'I Need You' with a rugged approximation of Slim Harpo's 'Got Love If You Want It' on the flip. The first incarnation of the band collapsed soon after that and the new line-up that emerged was quite another kettle of fish, turning up all manner of weird shit, notably the ridiculous 'Witchi Tai To' (a hit! as it deserved to be) and their swansong, the ten minute doom-rock epic 'Ludgate Hill' (which sounds a lot like Gestalt) (or early Deep Purple). The world (and especially Wellington) is unlikely to see their like again, which is too bad. DUANE ZARAKOV SUGARCUBES It’s It Liberation Why the dance re-mix album exists in the realms of indie pop is a mystery. The dance version of the rock song always has something sacrilegious about it. Nevertheless, Iceland's finest brought together a dozen re-mixers to hack away at a selection of their more upbeat numbers. Quite an impressive line up too: 808 State's Graham Massey ('Planet'), house guru Todd Terry ('Gold'), even the Cubes themselves give 'Regina' a seeing to. But unfortunately most of them have gone about smoothing (or cutting totally) the ragged old instrumentation. So you get j igsaw pieces of songs (ie samples of Bjork and Einar) over backbeats and blips—gone is the chaotic attraction, lost are the original sentiments.

A couple of the tracks that were originally weak have improved, the bizarre disco version of 'Leash Called Love' works because it is so divorced from the original. But the classics (yup, they did it to 'Birthday' — twice) sound stripped and desecrated — and seeing as the Sugarcubes have now gone their separate ways It's It is a sad way to go out. JOHN TAITE GREG JOHNSON SET Everyday Distortions (Pagan) Three years is a long time between debut and follow up albums but the Greg Johnson Set did have commercial success with three singles in the interim. 'Josephine', 'lsabelle' and 'Talk of the Town' have kept the band in public profile not to mention having the band leader as one of the glossy mag "faces” of the early '9os. And it's not that the band have been sitting around waiting for inspiration as Johnson has been paying his dues and bills with jazz band Bluespeak and guitarist Trevor Reekie collects bills as head of Pagan records. The new album Everyday Distortions shows a slight change of direction in the sound as the line-up has mutated and Johnson's style evolved. The sequencers are out, replaced by real keys including some tasty Hammond. Also out unfortunately is much of the trumpet that dominated and made distinctive the style of The Watertable. Johnson's lazy jazz tinged vocals are back with more confidence and authority and give a unique flavour to the album separating it from the usual screamers that are "fixed in the mix". Recorded over a long period of time, this is largely a compilation of sessions with five different producers, five drummers (including the drum programming of Terry Moore on 'The Sleeping Hour') and utilising three studios (Last Laugh, BFM and the Lab). The various time, space and human elements are held and moulded together by Johnson's strong songwriting and his ability to arrange the material within the concept of a band and 'outboard players' as required. A few less sam sessions may have picked up the tempo on songs but ambient pop is in, or at least coming on strong with this album. The singles proved to be radio friendly and NZ On Air has enabled the group to create a strong visual image via television. Overall an intelligent album of sophisticated melodic pop with jazz undertones and song hooks that you find yourself singing while waiting for the lights to change. JOHN PILLEY JULIANA HATFIELD Hey Babe (Festival) Yep, the Blake Baby has grown up, or rather is growing. Hey

Babe is like that first step out of the protective nest into troubled teenage years. Hatfield's quirky high vocals are eternally adolescent sounding, somewhere between a rock 'n' roll Harriet (Sundays) Wheeler and the sublime harmonies of Aussie pop goddesses like Jodie Phillis or Suzie Higgie.

Evan Dando returns the favour from the Lemonheads album with backing vocals and joining in with Hatfield's jangly yet punchy rock 'n'roll guitars which often sound very similar to the noisy pop/ rock of fellow Bostonians Buffalo Tom. It's somewhat of a wonder her voice survives over the top, but the seeming opposites of childishly pretty vocals and grunty guitars attract like magnets to meld into angsty pop gems like 'Everybody Loves Me But You' and 'Nirvana' — actually a Blakes Babies song if I remember rightly.

Listen to the line "Here comes the song I love it so much — makes me want to go fuck shit up". No one swears as beautifully with such a delicate punch, as Juliana Hatfield. TONY MILLER MOTHERLOVEBONE (Polygram) BLACK CAT BONE (Festival) For those that came in late, Motherlovebone was formed from the remnants of the seminal northwest USA band Green River, recognised as one of the sparks that ignited the Seattle phenomenon. Supposedly the "next big thing", fame was cut short when lead singer Andrew Wood OD'd two weeks before their debut album Apple was

released in 1990. The band recruited Eddie Vedder and reformed as Pearl Jam, the success of which is what, I imagine, inspired this rerelease of all the material they recorded — basically Apple and their first EP Shine.

Well, 'Thru Fade Away', 'Stardog Champion' and 'Chloe Dancer/ Crown of Thorns' (also on the Singles soundtrack) are OK but the rest and the bonus CD (with two previously unreleased tracks) are forgettable. It's obvious Pearl Jam's corporate leanings have been in the family tree for quite some time, even more blatant here — it's kind of pseudo glam hard rock. You won't find any of the brilliantly dischordant extremities of Soundgarden or Mudhoney here, but it might appeal if you can stomach the thought of a kind of Pearl Jam, G 'N' R type sound. Black Cat Bone, who describe themselves as "psycho bleusic rockers" fare somewhat better. Psycho bleusic amounts to sounding like they've been locked in a room with a copy of Led Zep's Coda for a long time. Very authentic, '7os retro riff-laden melodies similar to the Zep/ Cream varieties, and modern day hard rock revivalists like Danzig or the Cult. By no means a fountain of originality but they coax the sort of impressive, snarling solos out of their guitars that Deep Purple would have been proud of. Occasionally it's pompous and overblown, but that's the nature of the genre. Retrogressive as hell, but they're trying to be. BCB achieve what they set out to, with considerable talent. The question is whether it's still rel-

evant in a territory that's been well and truly mapped out before. TONY MILLER J CONSOLIDATED Play More Music (Festival) Far from tie-dyed, kaftan-wear-ing, acoustic guitar protest singers, this American three’piece arm themselves with hard-core industrial hip-hop on their quest for social awareness. . Play More-Music is a more rounded effort than last year's Friendly Fascism. Partly because it's a bloated 27 tracks (half of which are cuts from open forums they hold at - their concerts — which has you praising the skip track function after a couple of listens), and partly because guest rappers like Paris and Crack MC offer relief from the constant political correctness. The (much needed) injection of humour in Play More Music has also made Consolidated and its messages more attractive (Q:"Consolidated — don't you think you oversimplify your messages too much?", A:"Yes. Next."). They've still got conspiracy theories that would make Jello Biafra's toes curl, but including tracks like the Yeastie Girls' anthem for equality in bed ('You Suck') confirms their worth outside of the record collections of radicals. Sound politics and great music — who would have guessed it? JOHN TAITE TOAD THE WET SPROCKET Fear (Columbia) VEGAS (RCA) SONIA DADA (Festival) In the mediocre bag lurk three contenders. -Actually, Santa Monica's Toad the Wet Sprocket could almost climb outta there with their west coast REM gui-tar-chorus competence and overall sensitivity with a song. As proof, 'Stories I Tell' builds quite impressively via a sinewy riff to a pitch of convincing indignation. Elsewhere 'Walk On The Ocean' is forthright and melodic as is their single 'All I Want', examples of anonymously good music wrought by a band who need more public image and pr. One to watch. Vegas has nothing to do with Las Vegas. This is the peculiar alliance of ex-Specials' vocalist Terry Hall and Euryth'mics' Dave Stewart, a collaboration that promises little and delivers even less. Well, that's a bit cruel but this whole album is stuck in a comfortable softly-cushioned reggae groove with Hall's disembodied vocal floating over Stewart's inoffensive tunes like a choirboy in search of a funeral. Too dull to be camp, 'She's Alright', 'Wise Guy' and Aznavour's 'She' are the best things in a record destined for the sale bins before this hits print. . - , Chicago's Sonia Dada are

three black gospel R&B singers grafted onto a five piece band led by songwriter/ guitarist Dan- . iel Laszlo. Their main problem on this debut is that they try to cover too many bases and Laszlo, at best, is only a grafter. 'We Treat Each Other Cruel' and 'You Don't Treat Me No Good' pass as fair gospel, 'As Hard As It Seems' cries tougher but their best shot is 'The Edge of the World' which is on a Sam Cooke wave length. With better songs and a tighter focus, Sonia Dada may amount to something. GEORGE KAY KILLING JOKE J . Laugh, I Nearly Bought One (Virgin) Big fat compilation from the most bombastic group ever tagged "punk". There's too much mid to late 'Bos stuff, sort of AOR thrash or ; something (remember 'Love Like Blood'? No, I wouldn't really want to either) but there's also a generous enough helping of. early stuff to remind us that once upon a time they dealt in a kind of marvellously brutal art-thug-gery that became extinct well before its time. Most of the material is available on the existing albums, except .'Turn To End', the best thing in the whole compilation, which features an anxious dub bass being beaten into submission by heavy drums and barbed guitar. MATTHEW HYLAND TEXAS TORNADOS Hanging* On A Thread (Reprise) Third collection from this famous foursome offers no new insights but continues to entertain with a steady Tex-Mex diet of Cerveza and cancion. Perhaps not as strong as their first outing, containing such gems as 'A Man Can Cry', 'She Never Spoke Spanish To Me' and 'Who Were You Thinking Of', in fact there's some real bad stuff like the silly 'Guacamole' and a combination reggae-Tex-Mex item called

'La Grande Vida' which is an interesting concept that just doesn't work. Artistic quibbles aside, there's still some fine grooves to titilate your rhythmic tastebuds, the title track, as they say in the vernacular, kicks some serious butt. But the real joy is in anything Freddy Fender takes lead vocal on, as in the traditional 'Ando Muy Borracho' and a glorious rendition of 'Trying' which is just the sort of thing that delights rock traditionalists like myself. Freddy Fender has just got one of the all time classic voices, and this is just the sort of sentimental but powerful piece that shows it. Fans of the genre will be drawn to this like a magnet,

beginners should perhaps check out their first and best album. KERRY BUCHANAN GW MCLENNAN Fireboy (White) McLennan has said that this is the one album he's created that he could play to his hero, Bob Dylan, without feeling inadequate. This statement too easily dismisses the wealth of great songs in McLennan's past and presumes that Fireboy is indeed THAT good. It is the most confident and consistent exhibition of the McLennan style. His love for using metaphors of the elements are given freer reign, and fair enough, they've always

enriched his songs. With 'The Pawnbroker' he takes his extended off-beat tone poems a stage farther. In 'Things Will Change', 'Fingers' and 'Riddle In The Rain' he's reached a new assuredness and imagination in crafting ballads. With Fireboy McLennan has gone for less variety to achieve a lower key sense of unity and acoustic depth. So what the album gains through cohesion and general worthiness it loses in uplift and exuberance, qualities existing in McLennan's best songs. Only the superb 'Lighting Fires', the head-on

Whose Side Are You On?' and 'One Million Miles From Here' get close to Watershed's 'Haven't I Been A Fool', 'Stones

For You' and 'Putting The Wheels Back On' for dancing your head around the room.' When McLennan balances Watershed and Fireboy the last thing he needs to worry about is impressing Zimmerman. GEORGE KAY POP WILL EAT ITSELF The Looks of the Lifestyle (RCA) You should never underestimate the value of a REAL drummer. In the Poppies case, Fuzz (their first since Graham Crabb's departure in 'B7) has added a new dimension to their rap/ rock/rave mixture. But he's not the only reason that this latest incarnation works so well. Their twisted, regurgitated

splashes of reggae ('Bulletproof'), jazz ('I Was a Teenage Grandad'), Spanish guitar ('Mother') and didgeridoos ('Get the Girl, Kill the Baddies') have all added to the potency. And although their sampling antics have died down, the references to comics and vices, lyrics pinched from Queen and choruses ala Anthrax ('Urban Futuristic') prove the Poppies are still influenced by everything going on around them. The Looks ortheLifestyletak.es a couple of listens for the hits to hook in, mainly because the songs have- become so busy. But when they put out tracks like 'Bulletproof', 'Eat Me Drink Me Love Me Kill Me' and 'Harry Dean Stanton', all reeking of those groove ridden riff-o-ramas, you know they deserve to be our favourite bastard sons of indie rock and dance. JOHN TAITE HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS Heart of Rock & Roll: Best Of (Chrysalis) For a while there it seemed Huey Lewis could do no wrong. Between 1983 and 'B6 his band had eight singles in the US Top 10 with three of them going to number one. Such is the stuff retirement plans are made on. For Lewis was the archetypal proletarian rocker who became a star. He'd led bar bands for years, playing no-nonsense rock steeped in such traditional values as 'sos boogie and doowop vocals. The closest he came to fame in the '7os was backing Elvis Costello on his debut album. It wasn't until the third album under his own name that things clicked, and if trendy critics dismissed him as retro, millions of consumers heard his music as an honest alternative to the pretensions of the postpunk brigade. It is the very timelessness of his approach which makes it remain so valid nearly a decade on. That and the fact that Lewis possesses a damn

good voice and he and his crew could churn out some cracker hooklines. • ■ The title of this collection is, of course, far too grandiose a claim (yes I know it was one of his hits) but at least, in the case of Huey Lewis, the terms 'heart' and 'rock and roll' certainly belong together. PETER THOMSON HAPPY MONDAYS Yes Please (Factory) Apparently this is the most expensive 'indie' album ever made — but don't get your hopes up. Yes Please is an initially disappointing album. It sounds like

the final Manchester comedown: the hits are few, the mood is 'morning after' and it's bound to leave their Pills, Thrills and Bellyache pop fans in the cold.

That isn't to say it's a total flop. 'Stinkin Thinkin' proves they can still knock out those subtle, infectious grooves. Their stream of semi-consciousness lyrics still work most of the time ("get me an uzi/and someone to use it who smiles" — that type of thing). And Mark Day's Rolling Stonesy guitar rescues a lot of tracks from the gutter, despite Shaun Ryder's jaded vocals.

Yes Please could hardly be called a success though. ; It .sounds like the musical autopilot was hit far too often; like the hazy Barbados atmosphere in which they recorded diluted their immediacy; like producers Franz and Waymouth (exTom Tom Club and Talking Heads) were painting over rust. It's the type of album that will throw them back into cult-sta-tus — though with all the cash spent on it I doubt that was the intention. JOHN TAITE TOOL Opiate (Zoo) Sometimes you get all caught up in the semantics of this reviewing stuff, so let's keep this one to the two basic questions. 1) Is it good? 2) Why? The answers here are pretty simple. Yes, most definitely and well, just because it is. ; • Everything is right for this sort of music. It's loud and powerful, all spine and no belly. There's a vocalist who can actually sing and songs that mix Black Sabbath type melodies into some real '9os hardcore sounds with just a touch of classic speed metal going on. Opiate is only a six track mini-LP thing and that's ideal, a short series of musical body blows that leave you gasping. 'Sweat' seems so huge you'd think 14 studios and a big buck production team were involved but then you hear the two live tracks and realise that Tool just simply sound this way. Opiate is a ' rather awesome offering, six songs that make most every corporate alternative star of'fered up at present smell like the shit they truly are. KIRK GEE

SADE Love Deluxe

For those of us who can be bothered owning up, back in 1984 we briefly believed Sade to be the epitome of sultry soul. We snapped up her debut album in our millions, thrashed it for a month or so then put it away and forgot it. There were a couple of follow-ups but they basically skated across the same surface with diminishing returns. Now here comes her/ their fourth album a mere four years since the last.

And it's no better—or worse — than those previous. Oh there's a politically conscious

lyric or two but otherwise it's still pretty much an exercise in terminal cool. Love Deluxe quickly reduces to three tracks which are moderately memorable and rather pleasant. The rest is aural wallpaper. Ms Adu can undoubtedly perform the whole album without raising her pulse rate (let alone a drop of perspiration) and one even wonders whether the blokes in the band got through the complete set without nodding off. PETER THOMSON THE LETTER FIVE You Are Here (Flyins Nun) Letter Five is actually singer, writer, guitarist Richard James with a shifting group of accompanying musicians. Nowdays he's playing with Matthew Bannister of the Dribbling Darts of Love and John Pitcairn from Drill and recording new material. This seven track EP was recorded three years ago at the Lab, and on various four tracks, and it appears belatedly as the last Flying Nun 12 inch ever. This is a collection of seven simple, meditative songs with odd, ironic Iryics given oomph by Richardjames' matter-of-fact singing style and pared down instrumentation: guitar lines are vital but elusive (except for 'Misery' with its extended lead work), rhythm section adds texture rather than volume and there's a bit of sax in there somewhere too. Sometimes the guitar reminded me of quiet Neil Young, sometimes ('No Conversation') Richard James' voice sounds dark as Leonard Cohen. This record has a deceptively innocuous surface — listen again and you'll find lots of little complexities to stir the.mind. DONNA YUZWALK THE STEVE MILLER BAND The Very Best Of (Liberation) This compilation probably grew from the interest in 'The Joker' following a Levis ad on TV (remember the motorcyclist cruising the office floor and tossing jeans at the feet of his intended?) Otherwise it's been a long time since anybody reckoned Steve Miller could get away with calling himself "the space cowboy" let alone "the gangster of love". From 1968 to '72 he released

seven albums which some considered to be milestones of progresssive underground rock but which now sound embarrassingly naff. Then in '76 and '77, having largely shucked his efforts at merging basic blues with acid consciousness, Miller hit major mainstream success with two massively selling albums. They supply 13 of the 19 tracks here.

For once the Californian blandness of his vocals suited the style and catchy melodies. Even the silly cosmic synthesizer noises were kind of endearing. Today there's ten or so tracks which maintain a certain goofy charm. My favour-

ites include those with the risible rhyming, for instance: "Billy Mack is a detective down in Texas/ You know he knows just exactly what the facts is". Lightweight period pop which can still be amiably diverting. - PETER THOMSON STEVE EARLE We Ain’t Ever Satisfied: the Essential Collection (MCA) waved country stars dominate the US charts like an army of bland robots. Steve Earle is - groomed too, in tattoos and leathers, but compared to them,. he's the real thing. He's a spokesman for greasy dropouts in the forgotten backblocks, whose prospects are limited to a sixpack and a trailer home. His music is their music - hard rock with a bad attitude - not the processed schlock whose only ambition is to be inoffensive. The Bush baby-boomers want to keep blinkered from realities like factory lay-offs, solo parents and bad beer. Earle's voice is somewhere between a snarl and a whine, and he's backed by the Dukes, a well-oiled E-Street Band with a hint of pedal steel. The tradrock backing is a handicap, because it detracts from his masterly songwriting. 'Devil's Right Hand' and 'The Rain Came Down' could be Carter family standards in a modern setting, while the Springsteen influence ranges from Nebraska-style ballads ('Billy Austin') to USA stompers ('Gold Ole Boy Gettin Tough').. On Copperhead Road Earle started to diversify, lightening up the rock thump with folky touches. But by The Hard Way he was back at it, and the relentless wise-ass swagger and gloomy outlook may be the reason his career has stalled while the blow-waved army lulls the masses into a stupor. ; CHRIS BOURKE ROY ORBISON ;,< • King of Hearts (Virgin) Roy's last album, Mystery Girl, released just after he died, has an important advantage over this one. He was alive when he made it. King of Hearts is a collection of leftover vocal tracks given backings by an array of big-name producers: Don Was, Jeff Lynne, Robbie Robertson, Chips Moman. Una-

voidably patchy, it's let down by the songs - most are cowritten by Orbison - but carrying it all is the voice. Like an anguished Italian tenor, Orbison is haunting and unforgettable. He exudes heartache, tragedy and longing. One song here can stand alongside his 60s masterpieces: 'After the Love Has Gone', produced by Was. The beat is slow, the mood brooding, the treatment restrained; the voice is holding back back from tearing itself apart. It's a stately, emotional epic. 'Coming Home' is the other highlight; Chips Moman directs an all-Memphis crew on a dreamy ballad that

floats on strings reminiscent of John Lennon's 'Mind Games'. Robertson's effort is a non-event - too tasteful by far. No such accusation could be made of Jeff Lynne's two solo electronic toss-offs, which, strangely, Virgin thinks will be the hits. 'After the Love' aside, most of the songs on King of Hearts are af-ter-thoughts, but Roy Orbison's voice will last forever. CHRIS BOURKE CLIFFS OF DOONEEN (Critique/ Festival) SKEW SISKIN (Giant/ Warners) TROUBLE Manic Frustration (Def American) THE END Gusto (Mad Moon/ Festival) SCREAMING JETS Tear of Thought (RooArt) New Boston band Cliffs of Dooneen take their strange name from an old Irish folk song. Musically, we are talking a Guns/ Mission/ U2 hybrid with some Madchester beats. The result is uninspiring. COD are another in the current industry craze to sign bands who are simply not ready to release records. There are some interesting compositions: 'Blackwater' and 'Restless Sun' but these are weakened by lyrical immaturity and the desire to "rock out" at every opportunity. Equally insipid is the debut release from Berlin based band Skew Siskin. Even the most sympathetic of reviewers could not find many redeeming features in this record. Apparently a fourth generation cassette of the group found its way to America and presto, Skew Siskin had a deal. The record is seemingly a dub from that cassette as the production is horrendous. The whole mess is swamped in reverb and only the vice grip wails of Nina C. Alice are audible over the din. Skew Siskin are a strong reason for the speedy introduction of wipeable compact discs. Trouble seem quite peeved at the success of bands like Alice In Chains and Soundgarden because they've been churning out Sabbath inspired grunge for much longer without equivalent material rewards. Manic Frustration is not the epic album to gain them their place in the annals of rock history but is

still a massive improvement on their Def American debut. Vocalist Eric Wagner possesses an interesting Plant-esque voice but suffers from that unique American mainstream rock problem of an inability to write lyrics of any real depth. Despite this flaw (and although many of the songs are,very similar) the riffs are groovy. Just the thing for a hip rock party. The End are probably the most diverse bunch here. Employing rock, funk and soul they come out with an interesting R&B rock hybrid that's gained them a large following in their native England. Produced by Roxy Music guitarist Phil

Manzanera, this debut release glistens with a maturity lacking in its American counterparts. Although only a few of the songs are memorable there is an attitude here that demands attention. Keyboardist Matt Hammond gives the group an added pleasure, particularly on the vocal/ piano duet 'Cut Me Loose'. The End are far from finished.

The new Screaming Jets is my favourite this month. They continue to establish themselves as the premier Australian band producing melodic heavy rock. There are undoubtedly some obscure alternative influences here but they don't undermine the essential straightforwardness of the Jets' 4/ 4 rock vision. They share an affinity with AC/DC, if only for the expressway pace with which they move through 16 long tracks. First single 'Think' highlights the nonchalant inner anger of singer Paul Wooseen, an Australian Elvis Costello. LUKE CASEY VARIOUS ARTISTS Honeymoon in Vegas (Epic) For Elvis fanatics, their marriage to the king was to have and to hold, for better or worse. But the movies were strictly easy come, easy go. However Honeymoon in Vegas, a vehicle for Nicolas Cage, looks like more fun than Acapulco, judging by this soundtrack in which mainstream stars tackle their favourite Elvis hit. Billy Joel's 'All Shook Up' and 'Heartbreak Hotel' may be note-perfect covers, Amy Grant's 'Love Me Tender' and Bryan Ferry's 'Are You Lonesome Tonight' typically bloodless, and Jeff Beck's guitar instrumental 'Hound Dog' just plain daft... but there are gems here. They come from musicians who identify with the real Elvis: the country boy of simple tastes who grew up listening to black radio. So put your hands together for Dwight Yoakam's nasal romp on 'Suspicious Minds', Travis Tritt's rollicking 'Burning Love', John Mellencamp's dobro blues 'Jailhouse Rock' and Willie Nelson's tortured 'Blue Hawaii'. Surprisingly, for someone who discovered Elvis circa 1988, Bono takes the honours with his ethereal 'Can't Help Falling in Love'. CHRIS BOURKE

WHITE LION Best Of (Atlantic) MR BIG Live (Warners) SKID ROW B-Side Ourselves (Atlantic) THUNDER Laughing on Judgement Day (EMI) BAD COMPANY Here Comes Trouble (Atlantic) EXTREME 111 Sides To Every Story (A&M) Far better than Poison et al in their day, White Lion were a group whose songs everyone knew but no one could remember the actual name of the band. This retrospective compilation

goes from the very cheesy 'When The Children Cry' to the very good 'Lights And Thunder'. The best material is culled from their final Mane Attraction record. White Lion promised more, delivered far less.

Mr Big, however, have delivered themselves a great deal of readies with the lovely 'To Be With You'. Although a hashed version is presented here, the album is rescued by excellent versions of 'Green Tinted Sixties Mind' and 'Shy Boy'. Even so, it's far too early for a live Mr Big album.

From Skid Row comes the ultimately disposable B-Side Ourselves EP. While it may satisfy fans in the interim between Slave To The Grind and the next studio opus, it does not give credibility to their moronic bad boy posturing. Skid Mark's version of 'Little Wing' is undoubtedly sacrilegious and let there be thunder! 'Low Life In High Places' is being heavily rotated on yer local rock station and the album has hit stamped all over it. Certainly not progressive. Stadium rock with good choruses, plain and simple. Axl Rose loves them too. Another English band, Bad Company have been around for donkey's years. Only original members Kirke and Ralphs remain and they are notable by their absence in the songwriting department. More like "Here Comes Poverty" if the boys don't put pen to paper soon. Extreme save rock's bacon this year. 'Warheads' would make Van Halen proud and the hook-laden songs just keep coming. The three part album concept seems unnecessary because the songs are strong enough to stand alone. It seems like a redundant justification for the gargantuan length of the record. With vision and Beatlemania retrospection, Extreme is the band to go for if you like your rock hummable and White Lion if you like nostalgia. LUKE CASEY DEAD MOON Strange Pray Tell (Music Maniac import) Stop me if you heard this before but it matters not one rooty-toot-toot what "they" tell you, rock (and roll) in the 1990 s is pretty much of a washed up and moribund form. Doesn't matter tho', cos anyone that

really needs the stuff is gonna find it wherever and however, and maybe once in a Dead Moon it'll even come rolling into your very own town, even if you live in Tauranga or someplace, and knock you on your fuckin' diz and this actually happened, this year, so there ya go. Anyway, anyway, another Dead Moon LP and it ain't hell different to the one before or the one before that, which is to say it's the bottomline manifestation of something some people have no choice but to do or they'd go fuckin' mental or something. Which is what all great rock 'n' roll has been since before it was even

called 'n' roll, of course — "wild, crude, sweaty and mad . .. and sometimes ... just a little bit sad". Van Morrison said that. "I want to tell you all about the UNKNOWN TONGUE". Richard Meltzer said that. "People who don't like this kind of music must be morons or something." I said that, what're you gonna do about it? DUANE ZARAKOV RATCAT Inside Out ' (Rooart/ Warners) The Australian pop charts have , been very receptive to indie pop over the past few years and most accomodating to Ratcat's blend of noisepop. . Personally I never got too excited about Blind Love, their debut album. Sure, 'Don't Go Now' was an inspired, frenetic moment in pop history, but the rest kind of blurred into the burgeoning realm of forgotten pop. Still, the umpteen millions of Australians obsessed with Ratcat must have had a point, and Inside Out goes further in proving it. It's much more adventurous than Blind Love but is constructed around the same maxim of immensely sellable, catchy pop — bursts of short, stabbing melodies and simple, much repeated riffs that bounce ■ around in your head till doomsday. 'Never Really There' is a kind of antipodean buzzsaw pop shoegaze, Chapter house with a can of XXXX while 'Candyman' is a warped jingle of shotgun guitar noise, a long way from their previous tunes. Other tracks jump up and grab you — ''Holiday' and the slower, lamented 'Chasing' — all very summery and optimistic, but the reservations . persist. The morsels Ratcat serve up are all enormously tasty, though in the end not very filling. But then I guess that's pop for you. TONY MILLER THE GRID 456 (Virgin) It's been four years since old NME hack Richard Norris, and Dave Ball (ex-Soft Cell) formed this indulgent London synth duo. But listening to 456 makes you wonder whether they've been held in suspended animation. The Grid live in a rather con-

fused limbo between ambient techno and acid house. Tracks like 'Boom' are straight out of 'BB. 'Crystal Clear' could be a new age Mr Whippy jingle and 'Aquarium' sounds like a 'Chariots of Fire' theme for dolphins. It all sounds quite pleasant, but when compared to the Orb's hyperspace spliff atmospherics or the breakneck BPMs of hardcore techno, the Grid sound rather stale. Their 'star' collaborations don't work all that wonderfully either. Yello's Deiter Meier growls over a mere 'Planet Rock' rip-off called 'lce Machine', and 'Fire Engine Red' makes Zodiac Mindwarp sound like he's audi-

tioning for Dead or Alive. And when they take a stab at commercial pop ('Heartbeat') the result is an unnatural, syrupy sort of New Romantic rap. Makes you wonder who it was that compared them to Massive Attack and Primal Scream —a pathological liar I presume. JOHN TAITE THE SHAMEN Boss drum (Liberation) The Shamen always get away with it. They've been living this double life of commercial pop stars and psychedelic techno heavyweights for ages now and still they avoid the usual cries of 'sell-out'. But that's fine by me. Boss Drum is a dead good album from both sides. The syrupy techno pop of 'LSI' and 'Phorever People' should more than satisfy the 'Ebeneezer Goode' fans. Their harder, more extravagant tracks like 'Boss Drum' and 'Fatman' earn them cred points and those typically "heavy" Shamen song topics (like the synergy between electronic culture and the psychedelic imagination on 'Re:Evolution') always keep things interesting and weird. Last year's En-tact severed any remaining connections with their old band format. Boss Drum showcases the latest incarnation —minus Will Sinnot, plus Cockney rapper Mr C — and purifies their committment to techno, both commercial and alternative. Luuuuverly. JOHN TAITE YOUNG FRESH FELLOWS Low Beat Time (Frontier) Ordinarily I'm happy to avoid college alternative acts. I get that REM meets Nirvana vibe and I'm outta there. However Seattle's Young Fresh Fellows have managed to avoid that deal and remain a goofy garage ensemble with some truly wonderful moments of pop. Now with Low Beat Time they've gone completely against the flow. Instead of doing some stylistic fusion (you know, folk-funk or grunge glam punk or whatever it is that gets A&R people frothing at the mouth this month) they've taken all the different elements, isolated them and done something in that style. Thus we get 16 tracks from seven or so producers who range from

Butch Vig to Willie Mitchell (Al Green). There's something for everyone here, some melodic rock stuff, moments of weird kitsch instrumentals and even a version of the Young Rascal's 'Love Is A Beautiful Thing' that sounds like Redd Kross. The best is saved for last though: 'She Sees Colour' which is great 60sish pop, 'Monkey See Monkey Do', a cool romp with rockabilly stalwarts the A-Bones, a couple of pure garage squalls that are even produced by the guy who did the Sonic's albums and it all winds up with Rufus Thomas on vocals rockin' out with 'Green Green'. The strangest thing of all is that the whole mess works. The songs are good, the FF play just fine, like a 90s version of NRBQand it all makes for a good time. No pretensions and an obvious love for their roots have saved the Young Fresh Fellows from making a shambolic jumble. They've held it together in the right places and made a fine album.-C KIRK GEE ■ ' ' - * THE INSPIRAL CARPETS Revenge of the Goldfish (Liberation) The Inspirals were always characterised by their annoying Farfisa organ whines. And, for me at least, that 60s throwback made their "Cool as Fuck" tshirt slogans utterly unbelievable. But 'Revenge of the Goldfish' comes as a pleasant surprise. Most of the tracks are still sprinkled with organ — but it's a light sprinkle. Maybe producer Pascal Gabrial decided to mix it low, or perhaps the Carpets just realised how totally uncool it sounded. Either way, this album is far more listenable than their previous two. ’ , And it sounds like there have been some pretty strange things going down in the. Inspiral camp. They do a kind of ROCK thing on 'Generations' and 'Bitches Brew', turn into Spandau Ballet on 'Rain Song',* and 'lrrepressible Force' has a

distorted Tom Hingely vocal over a U2 'Desire'-ish drum beat. Does it work? Erm, well, some of it does — but the album overall is definitely more interesting than their twee debut, Life, or the over-indulgent waffle of Beast Inside. < JOHN TAITE TALL DWARFS The Short and Sick of It (Flying Nun) It's been quite a year for compilations and here's another one for the heap. Made up from 1985's That's the Short and Long Of It and 1985's Throw A Sickie EP, this is the Tall Dwarfs' second compilation. . Unlike their first, Hello Cruel World, which contained songs from their first four EPs, The Short and the Sick Of It has all the songs from both records. So it's more like Tall Dwarfs getting with the times than a compilation in the true sense. Most of the tunes are fairly

standard Dwarfs stuff. 'Nothing's Going To Happen' and 'Nothing's Going To Stop It' have a little more ingredient though, with the 22-person strong Wall of Dwarfs recording both the songs onto a 16track. Not the usual Dwarfs fourtrack recording. 'Burning Blue' is a fine example of the Dwarfs in their best and purest form. Bathgate's distorted guitar screams and laments along to Knox's voice while other instruments (in this case a piano) keep both in check. Somehow it all comes together to create (Dwarfs) harmony. The final tune 'Farewell' sounds more like a Martin Phillipps ballad than anything else the Dwarfs have done. Mind you, "Farewell to the ones we love, farewell to the trees, we're free of the disease" keeps it in a Knoxian context.

In its entirety of 21 songs and 59 minutes The Short and Sick Of It is a nice stroll through

'BS-'B6 Dwarfsville and like all their work it shows what an innovative and unique act they were . . . and still are. SEUMAS COONEY , MARTY WILSON-PIPER Art Attack Spirit Level (Ryko) A couple of albums from the Church's Wilson-Piper. Art Attack is actually a re-release of his second solo LP with six additional songs from his debut In Reflection. It's very much an individual indulgence of twelve string pleasantries like 'Water' and lyrical tangents like 'Evil Queen of England' and 'On The Tip of My Tongue' that border on the embarrassing. At its best Art Attack is a quaint divergence.

Spirit Level is a much better proposition with his eleven songs showing more discipline than pretension. The single 'Luscious Ghost' drives and out-

flanks the Church, 'Will I Start To Bleed' is delightful and 'The Saddest House In Stockholm' is more evocative than anything he's done. Spirit Level hints at what Priest-Aura should have been. GEORGE KAY THE SMITHS. 8e5t...2 (Warner Music) Simply put, Best...ll’s selection is a far better indication of what the Smiths were about. Sure, the first instalment offered a lot of their successes ('This Charming . Man', 'How Soon is Now' etc) but their importance was never tied to their commercial ability. Just as the cover gives you the other half of Dennis Hopper's photo, the songs inside give you the other half of the Smiths. There's a heavier dose of their introspective sorrows like 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now' and 'That Joke Isn't

Funny Anymore'. But it's the more comic tracks like 'Nowhere Fast' and the seething 'Bigmouth Strikes Again' ("Sweetness I was only joking when I said by rights you should be bludgeoned in your bed") that begin to fill out the real story. It seems this will be the final instalment of these staggered Best. . . compilations. But before you complain that 'Death of a Disco Dancer' or 'Frankly Mr Shankly' or whatever else could have made up 8e5t...111, you should look at these compilations as tasters rather than definitive summaries. There was simply too much to the band for any compilation to ever do them justice. If you want a real insight into what the band really meant you'll need The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow, Meat is Murder, The Queen is Dead and Strangeways Here We Come. There's no other way.

JOHN CALE \ f ' Fragments of a Rainy. Season 1 a jr (Hannibal Records) John Cale, a Welshman of sorts, visited these shores twice in the 'Bos turning in captivating, brooding performances bordering on the neurotic. Obviously loathe to change a winning formula, the bulk of the performances on Fragments cover the same solo territory as those NZ shows. The track listing reads like a veritable best of, reaching back to early material from the essential Paris 1919 through core 1970 s work from Fear, Slow Dazzle and Helen of Troy to recent collaborations with old sparring partners Lou Reed and Brian Eno. Although Cale can still scream in perfect pitch, classic tracks such as 'Guts’ and ‘Feur’, when divorced from his maniacal glowering Welsh presence, lose much of their* intensity. That leaves the more gentle melancholy tracks such as ‘Cordoba’ and the majestic ‘Buffalo Ballet’ as the real standards. ‘The Ballad of Cable Hogue’ remains unbearably riveting seventeen years after its inception and a rendering of several movements from ‘The Falkland Suite’ reveal nuances of emotional detail lost in the orchestration of ‘Words For The Dying’. At seventy minutes plus, this album will satisfy the most ardent Caleaholic. A word of caution though — to get even remotely close to a facsimile of these live performances, it’s essential to tweak the volume to life-sized proportions. Fans of Cale will then be suitably rewarded. MARTIN BELL

SCREAMING MEE MEES Stars In My Eyes BLAM BLAM BLAM The Complete Siam Blam Blam (Propeller) Okay so there has always been a bit of North-South friction in this country and I can remember us in Christchurch being very suspicious of any “Auckland bands”. That was until the Screaming Blamatic roadshow hit town and we realised just how bloody good they were. Virtually all of the Mee Mees recorded output is included on Stars In My Eyes and whilst we probably could have done without ‘Pointy Ears’ it shows how goofy they were. It’s great to hear ‘See Me Go’ again and tracks included from the LP If This Is Paradise I’ll Take the Sagtell us what we knew at the time, that three-quarters of it was pretty damn good. All of the singles and B-sides are included which makes this compilation virtually faultless. The same can be said for the Blams only more so. While they retained a certain pop element they were slightly more off-beat and dare I say it, wacky. Their entire recorded works are included here with the exception of ‘Pensioner Love’ off the Luxury Length LP. Maybe ‘Businessmen’ should have been left off as well but that is only a minor quibble. When you hear the brilliance of‘Marsha’ everything else fades into insignificance anyway. The other point to note is what a fine singer/ songwriter/ guitarist Mark Bell was. His tracks ‘Battleship Grey* and ‘Motivation’ are among the other highlights here and I haven’t even mentioned ‘Got To Be Guilty’. So while we wait for the inevitable more re-issues like that Danse Macabre boxed set and the Penknife Glides Rarities, I recommend that you shoot down to your local record shop and buy both of these. ALISTER CAIN

KYLIE MINOGUE ABBA demonstrate their multiGreatest Hits instrumental prowess... yeah, sure... (Mushroom) ABBA Gold — Greatest Hits (Polydor) Probably like you, I get most of my important information about Kylie from Woman’s Day. Recently I learned that she’s jealous of younger sister Danii whose career is taking off while Kylie’s seems to have stalled. Could she be all washed up at 24? I guess we'jl have to wait for further issues to find out. Meanwhile I’m left trying to figure out whether this Greatest Hits package is a symptom of incipient musical decline or just a Christmas cash-in. What it has got though — apart from 22 tracks — is a foldout cover and booklet insert which gives us eight new photos of Kylie in various stages of excitement or pensiveness. One shows a little bit of cleavage and another most of her right leg so maybe their purpose is to begin our preparation for her upcoming book of nude photos. Agnetha and Anni-Fred would never have considered such a career move but then the ’7os weren’t quite so multi-media. Even so, for several years, along with Benny and Bjorn, they were Sweden’s biggest export earner after Volvo cars. And Abba’s assembly line was no less proficient, delivering hits with a regularity that was awesome. Today many of the models no longer run as smoothly but a select few have attained the status of vintage marques. ‘Dancing Queen’, for instance, remains a connoisseurs’ classic. The company’s decline came in 1981 when it began experimenting with a less racy production. The Visitors, released with a brooding brown exterior, was aimed at a more thoughtful consumer. Some of us approved but the vast majority of the market turned elsewhere and one year later the factory was closed. PETER THOMSON

JOHN TAITE