albums

Rip It Up, Issue 200, 1 April 1994, Page 32

albums

I PAVEMENT Crooked Rain Crooked Rain (Fellaheen)

There were three types of reaction to Pavement in the past: hatred, ignorance or astonishment. This time round, they’ll hit your ears like a velvet uzi. This time round, everyone will be astonished.

Crooked Rain Crooked Rain is gloriously laid back. ‘Cut Your Hair’, ‘Gold Sounds’, ‘Elevate Me Later’ and ‘Unfair’ are the big wonky rock numbers here. They would all reach numberone in a perfect world, butthat’s not what this album is about. The real melting moments come from the slow sunken tracks. ‘Heaven Is A Truck’ is a Pavement blueprint. Malkmus begins quietly growling over some wayward piano and bewildered guitar, then the drumming comes in and makes sense out it all and then in comes this fantastic pop chorus — “She’s just the Queen ‘o Castle ‘o Casadina” (or something like that) — and then you can’t live without it.

The delicate country of ‘Range Life’ is too succulent to be regarded as merely mindbending, but it is. “I want a range life, if I could settle down then I would settle down" sings Malkmus while the intentional musical errors fall about the place. And then there’s

the closer, ‘Filmore Jive’, a curtains down, six minute goodbye. This offering from Pavement is messy, attractive and brilliant. Crooked Rain Crooked Rain is fifty blip-minutes of indie rock pleasure that everyone should get a piece of. JOHN TAITE

I JAWBOX For Your Own Special Sweetheart (Atlantic)

One of the more entertaining things about major labels signing alternative bands is reading the attempts ofthe publicity department to get down with the college crowd. For instance, here’s somebody at Atlantic who’s probably never heard Jawbox: ‘The dichotomy between noise and melody, poignancy and sonic bludgeon that’s at the heart of Jawbox . . . ‘ Damn, and here I was thinking they were just another Fugazi-damaged DC punk band with some good tunes. Actually, that’s being a little unfair. For Your Own Special Sweetheart is probably their best album to date. The addition of a second guitarist has toughened out their sound. There’s moments like ‘Jackpot Plus’ where Jawbox forget about trying to be intense and just cut loose with a good old-fashioned stomper of a song. Vocalist J. Robbins has loosened up too, he’s found a nice ratio of singing to shouting that keeps an edge on the songs without them sounding like a chanted

diatribe. I guess they’ll never shake that ‘melodic punk’ tag but at least for Your Own Special Sweetheart is pushing the standards up a notch or two while moving away from the Fugazi Jnr sound that dogged Grippe and Novelty. To put it simply, For Your Own Special Sweetheart rocks. KIRK GEE

BECK Mellow Gold (Geffen-BMG)

Cutie-pie Beck, he looks fourteen, but is actually 23, and he makes music like a man that has taken 36 acid trips and drunken two cans of beer. Although it’s on a major label this album was recorded at Karl’s house and Rob’s house and they used Beck’s four track recorder, and consequently it has a very experimental and wacky feel to it. This is one big fruit salad of a record, just about every musical sound available is present on it: whistling, chanting, whirring, guitars, percussion, rubberband bass, (what I imagine to be) U.F.O noises, Dalek noises, underwater singing noises, blowing into a large sea shell noises, everything, this is a total treat to listen to! Throughout the album Beck is having a lovely time, taking the piss out of the music industry, himself and whoever else he feels like with great humour and finesse, to go along with the music/non music. From the pschedelicy drawn out trippy songs, with on-purpose cliches, lotsa ‘oh yeahs’ and loose arrangements to the quirky, short and merry there is never one dull moment on this album. Just sitting and listening to the Iryics without the music would be a chortle in itself, but with the music it’s even better. Beck warns us on ‘Whiskeyclone, Hotel City’ “You shouldn’t talk to squirrels", talks of Motherfuckers on ‘Mutherf.. .er’ (he shrieks in an underwater voice, ‘Everyone’s out to get you

mutherf . . .*‘.er! Fantastic!); everyday white trash occurances in ‘Truckdrivin Neighbours Downstairs (Yellow Sweat)’ which has a great ‘hold up yer beers and sing along now’ chorus; his being signed to a record label ‘Pay No Mind (Snoozer)’, and of course his yummy catchy hit ‘Loser’, the theme song for all teenage boys. I don’t usually go for ‘wacky’ stuff like this, but you can’t help but like Beck (I knew I loved him when I saw him breakdancing on the ‘Loser’ video) ... he does it so well, he doesn’t try, he just is. SHIRLEY-ANNE CHARLES I NINE INCH NAILS The Downward Spiral (Interscope) There was a comic strip called The Bumpkin Billionaires a number of years ago. It was the continuing saga of some filthy rich folk who wanted to be poor. But the more they tried to destroy or get rid of their cash, the more money they got back. Trent Reznor is in a similar situation. Hetries to sound unlistenably hard, but sells records by the millions. Downward Spiral, recorded in Sharon Taite’s mansion (site ofthe Charles Manson killings), is meant to be a terrifying episode of apocalyptic industrial pain. Look at the titles — ‘Mr Self Destruct’, ‘Reptile’, ‘Heresy’, ‘Ruiner’ — Trent really wants to sound scary. But the pop (industrial pop, you understand) choruses, catchy beats and the textured sense ofstructure mean that, though the album is a million times harder than Pretty Hate Machine, it’s as listenable as hell. ‘March of the Pigs’ is the single — a pleasurable pounding of beats that sound like machinery in hyperdrive with digitally ravaged vocals. Downward Spiral is a direct descendant from Broken but he doesn’t want to desensitise you. There are light and dark shades throughout. The human screams which back the electronic blitzkrieg of ‘The Becoming’ give way to acoustic guitar in the middle, which reverts back into a monster Sepultura type riff and “It won’t give up, it wants me dead, this goddamn noise inside my head.” The violent ‘Big Man With A Gun’ leads into a delicate instrumental called ‘A Warm Place’, there’s grand piano on ‘I Do Not Want This’ and finally on ‘Hurt’ where the music turns to head in hands bewilderment. Trent may not be the beast he feels he is, but Downward Spiral is a varied slice of industrial that very few can better. JOHN TAITE

SOUNDGARDEN Superunknown (A&M)

It’s like I’m having a love affair with this album. At first I took it at surface level and thought it was a bit of a spunk, it was handsome, it was heavy, but then I really got to know it — the little sad guitar meows, moody bits, loud punk tantrums, songs that squeeze your heart. . . and now I can’t live without it. I’m secretly hoping that it won’t become too popular. It’s like sharing the one that is dear to you with people that are not. But it will. This is not Badmotorfinger, Louder Than Love, Ultra Mega O.K or Screaming Life (fantastic as or they all are) or a ‘typical’ Soundgarden record (if there is such a thing). It’s certainly not an easy listening album, it’s about 70 minutes long and gives your ears and brain a huge workout. There is much digging to be done on this album, if you don’t — well you don’t and you miss out on the beauty of it and will see it as another Soundgarden album that sounds a bit kookier than the others.

In the ‘Rock Out/Soundgarden’ category we have the songs ‘Let Me Drown’, ‘Superunknown’, ‘Spoonman’, ‘My Wave’ and ‘Kickstand’ (punk rock!, dumb lyrics, basic song, appreciate it!) which are all songs we would recognise as being Soundgarden songs. In the ‘Gorgeous/Beautiful/Move Your Soul’ category we have ‘Limo Wreck’, ‘Fell on Black Days’ and ‘The Day I Tried To Live’ that make all the hairs on your body stand up, well not all . . . and give your body that sad rush of adrenaline, and are songs that would not make the everyday person recognise them as Soundgarden songs. They also demonstrate what a fantastic songwriter Chris Cornell is, which brings us to the more familiar Soundgarden territory of ‘Slow n’ Heavy’, ‘4th of July’ (really slow, really heavy & distorted), ‘Like Suicide’, ‘Fresh Tendrils’ and ‘Mailman’ (which has a spooky organ bit to go with spooky lyrics about a criminal of sorts, where Chris sings “I know I’m heading for the bottom/ but I’m riding you all the way”). The final category is the Beatles-ish/ Dreamy/Spacey-With-Heavy Bursts category, and this is my favourite. ‘Black Hole Sun’, ‘Head Down’, ‘She Likes Surprises’ and the very Indian-like ‘Half’ (which has guitars, violas, cellos and bassist Ben Shepard singing like an Indian woman. I don’t actually like this one and am not going to just because it is Soundgarden). Altogether this album is too good to describe, all the songs are unique, special and life-inspiring. I think there’s so much variation in it that everybody should be able to find at least one songthey like from alternosto Nu FM/ Mainstreamers (I’m afraid) and that in itself is what’s gonna make this album big. Oh well. SHIRLEY-ANNE CHARLES

THE CHARLATANS Up To Our Hips (Beggar’s Banquet)

The Charlies have outlasted all the Manchester crowd. The Happy Mondays burnt out, the Stone Roses took ten years off between albums and Inspiral Carpets, well, they were always boring. The album title refers to the band being “up to their hips in shit” when keyboard player Rob Collins was busted for assisting a robbery in 92. They recorded this while Rob was waiting for his sentencing late last year (he got eight months). Their mood has changed with the circumstances. And one of the album highlights, ‘lnside Looking Out’, is about the impending incarceration. Their slower songs were weak in the past, but tracks like ‘Autograph’, ‘Up To Our Hips’ and ‘Another Rider Up In Flames’ show that it’s not a problem any longer. And poppy bits and pieces arrive in ‘Patrol’ and ‘Come In Number 21’ for the old fans of Some Friendly. Between 10th and 11th hung on the hit ‘Weirdo’ while everything else was plastered with excessive reverb and effects to cover an ordinary album. Up To Our Hips has a huge hit, ‘Can’t Get Out Of Bed’, but the sounds surrounding it have been dressed down. The Charlatans’ songs have come out of hiding, and the pop is all the more welcoming.

JOHN TAITE

POSSUM DIXON Possum Dixon (Interscope)

You can just imagine Interscope’s A&R people: “Yeah, great, hey love your stuff guys — kinda Pixies meets Violent Femmes, yeah. Brilliant, just great. It’s just, well, the name, Possum Dixon. What is that exactly?” It doesn’t really matter what their name means.

If you hear it enough it’s kinda catchy. A bit like the band. Robert Zabrecky, the singer with this LA four-piece, has Gorden Gano’s drawl and talent for killer pop choruses. Mix this with a Frank Black primal scream and some manic instrumentation and the Possums have all the markings of a College Radio hit. The lyrics don’t have the same magic but that’s typical LA — go for the pop rush not the substance. But you learn to live with it because the sounds are so tasty. Like the opener ‘Nerves’, with its discordant piano bashes, racing double bass and off-beat open hi-hat. And the hits ‘We’re All Happy’, ‘Elevators’ and ‘Watchthe Girl Destroy Me’ all do what good pop songs should and stick in your head far too long. Possum Dixon. Possum Dixon. Possum Dixon. Possum Dixon. Possum Dixon. Possum Dixon. See, I told you it was catchy. JOHN TAITE

DUB SYNDICATE Echomania (Flying In)

To the untrained ear there’s something timeless about modern dub. Nothing really falls

into old or new trends, there are just additions and flavours. It’s been a couple of years since the dub renaissance and, of the On-U sound

brand, Dub Syndicate sound like the fittest contenders for survival.

Echomania, partly recorded in Jamaica and England, is an apt title for the sound the

Syndicate immerse themselves in. Ifdub hasn’t really touched you before, it could be described as a realm inhabited by sparse (but dense) ambient reggae. Dub Syndicate take a mixture of Rastafarian imagery (like ‘Dubaddisababa’) and London street (‘2OOI Love’), sprinkle it with the occasional call and response backing vocal and then place it in huge, smokey, echoey swirls of beats and bass, mixed with guitar and keyboard effects. Guest vocals this time include the Disposable Heroes’ Michael Franti and “his oneness" Lee Scratch Perry. But the real credit belongs to the members of this faceless presence, their hearts are obviously still full of groove and they sound as fresh as ever. JOHN TAITE

THE NIXONS Eye TV (Pagan)

Richard Milhaus Nixon is one of history’s great losers — even the Russians have snubbed him. Auckland band the Nixons are unlikely to have the same sort of historical impact but at least they’re well liked. Their single ‘Venus’

was voted numero uno for 1992 on bFM’s end of year top fifty and no doubt this debut album will be similarly well received. That’s if you can look past the first pair of singles from the album which are among its weakest tracks. Far more effective are ‘I Fooled You’ and ‘Dreamthing’ although singer Sean Sturm nearly blows it on the ‘Dreamthing’ outro, overcooking the vocals when he should have left his guitar to do the talking. Occasionally Sturm’s vocals don’t sit as comfortably as they should with the surrounding music but then Michael Stipe couldn’t sing for toffee on Murmerand look where that got him. It’s the rhythm section who really define the Nixon’s sound — Michael Scott’s angular basslines underpinning Mark Pollard’s endlessly inventive drumming. And the production sounds like a million bucks, raw and vital. Sometimes they stumble (the rockist bombast of ‘Tick Tock’) but the final two tracks show the direction the Nixons should be taking. ‘Underground’ is an insidious number — languid yet able to create a mood and draw an emotional response — the sort of thing Julian Cope would write on a good day. Likewise ‘The Fountain’, steeped in the sort of Celtic imagery which was the calling card of Goblin Mix, blends its myriad elements to create one of the album’s highlights. MARTIN BELL

ZZ TOP Antenna (RCA/BMG)

As one of only a handful of bands I look towards to “rock out” (no Alice In Chains jokes please) (no Matthew Hyland jokes either, thank you) ZZ Top have sure put out some less-than-decent music in the past ten years. This is the post-Eliminator syndrome: Where that album cranked so high and mighty, everything since has been ZZ Plop by comparison. Antenna is a slight rectification: ‘PCH’ is their most right-

eously hot-wired, sparks-flying song since ‘Legs,’ and its good time surf vibe puts it right up with the best of Dick Dale and King Loser. Dependably, the lyrics are scholarly matters that matter: There's condoms (‘Cover Your Rig’), cunnilingus (‘Fuzzbox Voodoo’), a penis (‘Lizard Life’), a pussy (‘Cherry Red’), and agirl in a T-shirt (‘Girl In A T-Shirt’). Billy Gibbons plays what sounds like the same guitar solo on every song, but it’s a great one, quite unhinged really. And his patented pinch harmonics are exciting, as pinch harmonics go. Frank Beard and Dusty Hill don’t lock into all the big grooves’they should, but nonetheless there’s some top Top to tap today. Andrew Palmer

I IN THE NAME OF THE FATHERS arious Artists (Island) If you haven’t seen the film yet, let me be the millionth person to recommend it. The story of the wrongful imprisonment of the Guilford Four was aided by a great soundtrack. Opening with the rousing theme song, Bono chanting “In the name of whisky/ln the name of song/You didn’t lookback/You didn’t belong.” Along with excerpts of Trevor Jones’ emotional film score, there were a couple of classic tracks used to enhance the events on screen. Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo Chile’ is extracted from the opening chase and riot, the Kinks’ ‘Dedicated Follower Of Fashion’ from the new suit scene, Bob Marley from the acid sessions and Thin Lizzy’s version of ‘Whisky In The Jar’. But the closing track is the real ear opener. Sinead O’Connor singing the Bono penned ‘Thief of Your Heart’. The mini-orchestra which accompany her sound belittled as she powers her way through this tear jerker. It’s the bald one’s best moment in years. If you’ve seen the film, let me be the first person to recommend the soundtrack. JOHN TAITE

I NICO Chelsea Girl (Polydor)

An unexplained but more than welcome reissue of probably the only worthwhile folk-rock album ever made, complete with extraordinary liner notes explaining that Nico sang in “an existential pop style as earthy as Mary Travers’ {Peter, Paul and Mary} yet more

elegant." What I think the writer is trying to tell us is that she had a foreign accent and a voice as smoothly “inexpressive” as, say, Julee Cruise’s, only a couple of octaves deeper. It’s as easy as it is futile to ascribe “personal” qualities (best example from the liner notes: “relaxed and extremely feminine in that . . . way which is the mark of so many European women") to these details of sound, but regardless of critics’ fantasies about the dead person singing, the combined effect of voice and excessively delicate arrangements (strings, flutes, acoustic guitars) and chord changes is still coldly, uncomfortably “beautiful”. The album’s one significant break from this successful format is its best song of all: ‘lt Was A Pleasure Then’ (composed Nico/Cale/ Reed) begins with the awesomely incongruous pairing of Nico’s teutonic drone with a delta blues riff, then for about five minutes in the middle chords and rhythm disappear altogether in a black hole of ‘Heroin’-style viola/ organ/guitar dementia while the sweet, plaintive singing continues as if nothing has happened. I know the Boredoms have been signed to Warners and that these days all noise is created equally harmless, but music that tears itself apart quite this comprehensively is as unheard-of now as it was in 1966. MATTHEW HYLAND VARIOUS ARTISTS Alternative NRG (Hollywood Records) Celtic Heart (BMG) The Big Back Yard (Big Back Yard) Greenpeace’s solar energy recorded and mixed Alternative NRG was compiled by ex-Beat and present Greenpeace musical director Dave Wakeling. This collection aims to promote natural energy and features a mixture of environmentally committed bands with others at the innovative end of rock n’roil. So you get Annie Lennox, Midnight Oil, U2 and REM rubbing shoulders with excellent contributions from the Jesus and Mary Chain, Sonic Youth and Disposable Heroes. Even ÜB4O are tolerable in this credible, if not entirely cohesive selection.

Celtic Heart is a marketing strategy built around the loose concept of Celtic music. Loose enough to include Deacon Blue and Fairground Attraction whose ‘Perfect’ is certainly stretchingthe definition. The Waterboys,

the Pogues’ timeless ‘Pair of Brown Eyes’, Christy Moore’s metaphorical ‘Voyage’ and even Clannad’s trusty old 'Harry’s Game’ almost justify this contrived compilation. Finally, The Big Backyard, a radio programme of new Aussie music, is showcased on this sixteen track CD. Ed Kuepper isn’t exactly new but his cracking ‘Maria Peripatetica’ is welcome amongst established bands like Falling Joys and Died Pretty. Smudge’s ‘Divan’ out-does the Lemonheads’ version and young aborigines the North Tauami Band are totally charmingon ‘Mardake Nyanu’. Major guitar promise comes in the shape of Screamfeeder’s ‘Wrote You Off’ and Glide’s ‘Thin Faced Man’, leaving the Handlebrot Set to revive the joys of peak time Buzzcocks. What more could you want? GEORGE KAY I ALICE IN CHAINS Jar of Flies (Sony) Having covered life’s seedier side on last year’s rock n’ drugs epic Dirt, it appears that Alice in Chains have now decided to kick back and mellow out a wee bit and play some relaxing, experimental and maybe therapeutic (forthem) music, and this is what Jar of Flies is. It is not an album (it's an EP actually) to put on and ‘rock out’ to. So far the only time I have actually enjoyed this album has been when I’ve been driving along in a car. The ‘musicians jamming’ feel of this EP does not seem to go down well any old time, it gets a bit tiresome, but can be relaxing in the appropriate environment. Jar of Flies is rather reminiscent of their last acoustic-ish EPSap, songs with emphasis on songwriting rather than dishing up a full-on rock assault. Lyrically it’s reflective and a lot less intense than other efforts, no stories of rehab or blowing one’s head off to piss off the one you love, just mellow, laid back tunes that sometimes sound as though they would be more suited for a film soundtrack, with some occasional very cringe-worthy, old fashioned sounding guitar bits. All the songs pretty much run along the same, vein, except the last song ‘Swing On This’ which is (surprise!) a swingy kinda number that is hopefully a piss take. SHIRLEY-ANNE CHARLES I TORI AMOS Under the Pink (East/West) Afaircriticism ofTori Amos' debutalbum Little Earthquakes was its over reliance on the mannerisms patented by Kate Bush a decade before. Pop music as artistic cannibalism is one thing, but gorging on and regurgitating a single artist whole is a totally different kettle of piranhas. So why, in that case, has Little Earthquakes been played so regularly on my stereo? Simple. Songs such as ‘Crucify My-

self’, ‘Silent All These Years’ and ‘Chino’ were just too good to deny. Kate Bush herself hadn’t made an album this good in years.

On Linder the Pink Tori still sounds like Kate Bush (and Joni Mitchell) but increasingly she just sounds like Tori Amos. Here she explores familiar themes of love, religion, self-loathing and redemption but she does so with a surer voice. Although some tracks feature a bevy of backing musicians, the album is dominated by the vocals and piano of Amos. The effect is disarming, slap-in-the-face intimacy but not without humour. There’s much to admire on Underthe Pink, but Little Earthquakes was consistently more engrossing. In carving a stronger personal style Amos has perhaps chiselled away some of the qualities which made her so endearing. MARTIN BELL STEELY DAN Remastered: The Best of Steely Dan Then And Now (MCA) MARY COUGHLAN Love Me or Leave Me: (Warners) The Best of Mary Coughlan BLONDIE Blonde and Beyond (Chrysalis) The CD format has certainly been a boost for greatest hits compilations. Steely Dan’s Remastered is a case in point: this sixteen track selection is a fine overview of some of the best songs by Becker and Fagen, a songwriting duo to be mentioned in the same breath as Lennon-McCartney, Jagger-Richards and Morrissey-Marr. Early songs like ‘Dirty Work’ through to ‘Hey Nineteen’ still sound masterful. No self-respecting record collection should be without Steely Dan’s first three albums. Failing that, this compilation is the place to start. The Mary Coughlan collection is even more thorough. Emerging from Galway, Ireland in the early 80s as something of a budding folkie, Coughlan showed that she had more strings to her bow. Her not so much lived-in as occasionally rented, plaintive delivery allowed her to tackle different musical genres, avoiding the overly mannered techniques of male soaks like Tom Waits. So on Love Me or Leave Me she goes from Celtic-rock-meets-Leonard Cohen on ‘Ride On’ to the barroom seediness of ‘Delaney’s Gone Back To the Wine’ to perfect covers of ‘lce Cream Man’ and ‘Handbags and Gladrags’ without turning a hair. Time you met Mary Coughlan. Last, and not really a best of, is Blondie’s Blonde and Beyond which is a collection of some B-sides, the odd hit and four unreleased tracks. It’s a thin excuse for a compilation, its main justification resting on the previously unavailable songs — a punky ‘Underground Girl’, a chiming piece of girlie invective in ‘Scenery’, a sparse, funky version of ‘Heart of Glass’ called ‘Once I Had A Love’ and a duff live version of T. Rex’s ‘Bang A Gong’. Else-

where, hits and assorted B-sides pad out a dubious selection. GEORGE KAY I BACKBEAT SOUNDTRACK (Virgin) The film is about the Beatles circa Hamburg and the soundtrack features not old recordings but a bunch of current alternative rock stars. Actually, it’s not as bad as it sounds. At that time, the Beatles were cool as hell, a messy garage band hopped up on sex and amphetamine sulfate. On the soundtrack you have Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, Don Fleming of Gumball, Dave Grolsch from Nirvana, Mike Mills from REM with the Afghan Whigs’ Greg Dulli and the Soul Asylum guy handling vocals. Better yet, they refrain from getting creative and just nail down a bunch of classics: ‘Money’, ‘Road Runner’, ‘Twist and Shout’,. ‘C’mon Everybody’ — all the stuff the Beatles cut their teeth on. Choppy, dirty and just a little too fast, this is some fine rock and roll. There’s even a nice slow dance moment with Henry Rollins damaging ‘Love Me Tender’ beyond belief. This all reeks of novelty (classic rock grunge?) but don’t let that put you off. Pray that you can find a vinyl copy, then play it really loud late at night. It’s stupid, but it’s fun. KIRK GEE I CLOUDS Thunderhead (Red Eye) Clouds have probably suffered their share of “identikit alternative popsters” jokes with their seamless brand of the alternative guitar sound. Sonically they might owe a lotto bands like the Pixies, but the majority of songs on their debut album Penny Century were so damn good they stood tall on their own terms.

With Thunderhead Clouds have expanded beyond the formula which served them so well on Penny Century. In so doing they may have loosened their musical straitjacket but they haven’t necessarily freed their most memorable batch of songs. The hooks which put the likes of ‘Heironymous’ and ‘Fearthe Moon’ on high rotate in your brain are not so much in evidence. They’re there — it’s just that they only last half a bar before the song stops or lurches off in an unforseen direction. Challenging, sure, but those after a sweeter Clouds fix will find that it’s only the insanely catchy choruses of ‘Red Serenade’ and’Universal’ which offer the requisite heavenly pop hit. The lyrics, which deal mainly in those old cliches life, love, sex and the menstrual cycle, are disarmingly honest. Their intensely personal and confessional nature is refreshing in its perspective and provides an intimate counterpoint to the almost relentless widescreen production. Closing the album with several minutes of tropical storm sound is a useful metaphor for

the album as a whole — the occasional flash of brilliance, but overall a bit of a damp squib. MARTIN BELL I SHERYL CROW Tuesday Night Music Club (A&M) Once a back-up singerforall mannerofwealthy way-past-their prime superstars (Clapton, Henley et al) Tuesday Night Music Club is Crow’s solo debut — an album borne out of Tuesday night beer and jam sessions at producer Bill Bottrell’s living-room come studio. Included on writing and performing credits are Davids Baerwald and Ricketts and Bottrell himself (producer of David Baerwald’s excellent Triage) has a hand in all but one track. But the best parts of this seem Crow’s own — the lovely opening to ‘Can’t Cry Anymore’ or the young couple down on their luck in ‘No One Said It Would Be Easy’: “It’s obvious the trouble we’re in/When your father turns up in a Mercedes Benz... before he leaves he slips the landlord the rent. .. “. Musically and urn . . . philosophically Crow seems closest to Rickie Lee Jones, although the cutesy barroom narrative of ‘All I Wanna Do’ gets a little too close for comfort. Better is the edgy celebration of ‘Leaving Las Vegas’ where Crow’s vocals possess a breathless, stoned abandon. Anyone familiar with the stories of writer Bobbie Ann Mason will see a sort of musical equivalent in Crow — lives wanting more than they have yet not trusting I ife to give it to them. Sure, there’s some less than riveting filler but most of Tuesday Night Music Club sounds far betterthan ajam session amongstfriends has a right to. GREG FLEMING

MARK O’CONNOR Heroes (Warner Bros)

A fiddle-player’s delight. Mark O’Connor is a country fiddle virtuoso, and here he invites his heroes to duet on an album of their hits. As you'd expect there’s Charlie Daniels, Byron Berline, Doug Kershaw and Johnny Gimble, but

Jean-Luc Ponty and Stephane Grappelli contribute a jazz bracket and Indian violinist L Shankar an extended raga/country exploration. More fiddling than you’ll hear on FM Country in a decade, but highly recommended for violin students who want to loosen up. Because the playing here is dazzling but full of heart; technicallyfaultlessbutwith real swing.Theexhaustive liner notes are a history of the form, and testimony to O’Connor’s mastery of the instrument. I’ll only ever want to hear one song off this at a time, though, and most likely it’ll be ‘Ashokan Farewell’, the haunting theme song off the harrowing TV documentary The Civil War. CHRIS BOURKE THE BLUE AEROPLANES Life Model (Beggar’s Banquet) THE 800 RADLEYS Learning to Walk (Shock) If the Smiths were the quintessential English band then these two aren’t far behind. The Blue Aeroplanes have been pushing their own rustic/urban charm since the mid-80s and Life Model is their third consecutive semi-classic. With no fewer than seven guitarists they waste no time in using them on the burning opener ‘Broken and Mended’ and later on ‘Vade Hecum Gunslinger’. But it’s the bohemian poetry de I i very of voca I i st Gera rd La ngl ey th at ’ s always provided the band with their eccentric/ electric tension and English west coast uniqueness. Sample ‘Open’ and ‘Mercury’ as Langley leads the band into turbulance and through an album that yet again deserves to lift them out of their current big cult status. For many, Liverpool’s 800 Radleys achieved Martin Carr’s dream of making an album that could stand up to Brian Wilson and John Lennon with last year’s Giant Steps. To show how he and the band got there Learning To Walk features their first three EPs and jagged, delirious versions of Love’s ‘Alone Again Or’ and New Order’s ‘Faith’. Originally on Rough Trade, the band were lazily categorized as anothercolourless indie band. Revisitingthese EPs shows tha their sound was a bit onedimensional but beneath the surface they had songs of armoured beauty like ‘The Finest Kiss’ and ‘Bluebird’ and a promise that was to be fulfilled by two brilliant albums. 800 fans will not be disappointed. GEORGE KAY

ITASMIN ARCHER Shipbuilding EP (EMI) The time is probably ripe for a sensitive singer to do an album of Elvis Costello interpretations. With this four song EP Tasmin Archer fires the opening shot but it’s a pretty tentative one. While possessing a voice which could make one forget Costello’s frequent nasal plangency, she shows little interpretive flair. Moreover the instrumentation is less interesting than on the originals. ‘Shipbuilding’ misses the equivalent of Chet Baker’s haunting trumpet and ‘Deep Dark Truthful Mirror’ lacks the punch of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band. PETER THOMSON I THE OTHER TWO The Other Two And You (CentreDate)

Gillian Gilbert and Stephen Morris are the other two out of New Order. The Other Two And You is an old album made while Bernie Sumner was mucking about with Electronic and Hookey was doing Savage. It sounds old. Stephen “Pet Shop Boys” Hague always puts a sheen on his electro pop production. But the songs The Other Two have provided don’t go the distance and, really, this quaint little experiment should have ended with the ‘Tasty Fish’ single. Gillian sounds like someone out of Bananarama and apart from ‘Spirit Level’, all of the electro backdrops are retro, late 80s and dull. It’s a polite album, one which leans towards the fluffiness of the Beloved more than the importance of New Order. It’ll be nice for those New Order fans who prefer to listen alone. JOHN TAITE

CHARLIE MUSSELWHITE In My Time (Alligator) HIPPOS Creatures From the Back Saloon (Exile) DAVE HOLE Working Overtime (Festival) BOBBY MACK & NIGHT TRAIN Honeytrap (Palindrome)

“Blues legend” is a loose, invention-laden term. By my reckoning the qualifying criteria are (1) anybody who put a record out, or (2) anybody who influenced anybody who put a record out. 1 and 2 are subject to a stand down period; the record needs to be five years old. Although this isn’t necessary if the person is aged 35 or over. Plus (3) anyone who’s dead, or if not dead sings about a near-death experience or just looks like they could be dead and maybe you ought to tap them on the shoulder to be sure. So why not just (4) anybody who ever plays, played, or is considered to have played, the blues? Blues legend Charlie Musselwhite played with Muddy Waters in 62 and later forged a strong association with John Lee Hooker. On ‘Stingalee’ he picks up a guitar and rattles off an effective Hooker imitation. But harmonica is his chief thrill, and two swinging bands back him to this end, with his relaxed vocals highlighted on ‘Please Don’t Think I’m Nosy’ and ‘Casual Friend.’ The sparse ‘Ain’t It Time’ sounds like the standout. In My Time follows Ace of Harps and Signature in a trilogy of career-on-track albums, it’s very good and lowkey enough to be mistaken for boring. The Hippos are an Australian R & mostly B quintet. Their vocalist resembles a hippo, and this pleases me greatly. As does his sense-of-humour-shown liner notes. They rock, they roll, they rumble, they tumble. Earl King adds guest guitar, the keyboards tinkle, the sax player squiggles okay, ‘No Fine Line’ makes mewantto proposition a stranger for sex. The overall effect is your local R & B pub band recording an album, a good souvenir if it’s your pub, you’re related to the band, or you’re a member of the band, though not of bountiful interest outside this. Working Overtime is the second Dave Hole album within a year, take a big guess where the title comes from. His electrifying electric slide can make your eyes and the corners of

your mouth simultaneously point in different directions, but there are certainly no songs to rival Wombat Williamson’s Australian classic ‘I Make Chicks Act Like Skippy (When They See Me They Jump)’. The instrumental ‘Berwick Road’ sounds like a five minute extrapolation on Curtis Mayfield’s second fill in ‘People Get Ready, ’ and Jeff Beck might like to hear it. The title song reminds me of Ted Nugent’s ‘Free For AH’, not sure why, but it does. Bobby Mack’s Honeytrap is a fine Stevie Ray Vaughan album, oratleastthe similarities are uncanny. And they’re more than welcome. ‘Love Can Be Cruel’ scores higher than anything on In Step, with Mack’s scorching guitar finding a perfect balance between melody and sizzle. The most interesting song is a ballad, ‘Tell Me Who (Do You Love)’, the chorus of which repeats the phrase ‘who do you love?’, the songwriting equivalent of walking 47 miles of barbwire (ie. by invoking comparisons to that which is holy), but amazingly survives the Diddley curse, even when Mack plays the first half of the dreaded ‘Wonderful Tonight’ riff. ANDREW PALMER

I ROBBEN FORD AND THE BLUE UNEMystic Mile (Stretch Records/GRP)

Since first recording with Joni Mitchell 20 years ago — while still in his teens! —guitarist Ford has worked with an impressive array of musicians, most prestigious perhaps being his stint with Miles Davis. Something of that range was showcased on Ford’s first Blue Line album back in 92. For Mystic M ne focus is more concentrated on the blues 1 there are fewerguests involved to supplementthe basic trio format. And while this may make for a more focused album it also shows up a weakness not evident on its predecessor.

As instrumentalists these guys are simply awesome; as vocalists they have limitations. Ford’s voice lacks the soul to take on a classic like ‘Worried Life Blues’ (you find yourself waiting for the guitar solo). And Roscoe Beck may be a master of the electric bass but he’s a mediocre singer on his own ‘Say What’s On Your Mind’.

But Ford can still write a mighty pop song. The title track is exquisitely langorous while ‘Busted Up’ is joyously upbeat and contains some marvellous syncopated wah-wah playing. Most impressive of the non-originals is a remake of Cream’s ‘Politician’ where the trio kicks some much needed life into a stodgy old riff. PETER THOMSON

I THE FREDDYJONES BA/VDWaiting For The Night (Capricorn)

One of the few joys of record reviewing is reconciling the anything-to-sell-it promotional rhetoric of record companies with what the music actually sounds like. The Freddy Jones Band are a fine example of this. The advertisements entice with (quote) “an invigorating mix of rock, R & B, and jazz” which is suspect enough, except I only hear the ghost of Billy Ray Cyrus’ past: country-rock. Or rather, an uninspired, light-weight Eagles-without-wings. The “jazz” connection is the intriguing one. Having carefully perused the CD I’ll concede that for about 20 seconds of ‘The Puppet’ the guitar player phrases his notes in such a way as to suggest Wes Montgomery imitating some mid-period Little Dutch Dick, but other than that there’s no jazz here (there’s not even any “jazz” either). What there is, is a little bit of this and a little bit of that, which adds up to a whole lot of nothing. ANDREW PALMER

BILDERINE Split Seconds (Flying Nun)

As promised by the Nun, here is the third instalment of the four CD retrospective of the career of Bill Direen. Over 16-tracks Split Seconds covers three important periods in Direen’s musical career — his earliest band (Christchurch punk pioneers the Vacuum), the classic early-80s line-up of the Builders, and material recorded in New York during his 1989 world tour. Starting at the beginning is usually the best place. In 1977, Direen formed the Vacuum with bassist Stephen Cogle and drummer Peter Stapleton. They are represented here by two tracks, ‘(Love In The) Retail Trade’ and ‘Remember Breaking Up’, both extremely VU influenced.

The Vacuum became Kaza Portico in 1980 upon the arrival of keyboardist Alan Meek, and during March of the following year Direen formed the original Builders with Meek and current Bats drummer Malcom Grant. Four songs from that period are included here. ‘Baby Cum Back’ is a noisy but melodic studio jam complete with backwards vocals, and the rocking ‘Crossword ’ features some fairly exuberant drumming and keyboard

work. Completing the line-up is the dark, otherwordly ‘Skulls’ and the beautifully disturbing ‘Circles of Blood.’ Jumping ahead now to 1989 and PPI Studios in New York City. Here Direen was reunited with Meek and joined by ex-Clean Hamish Kilgour for a brief recording session that resulted in The Hat tape. From that time comes ‘Nutshell of Love’, the hypnotic ‘Serious’ and perhaps the album’s finest moment, the delicate melancholy ‘Trees.’ Sandwiched between the Builders early material and the NY recordings are various solo and collaborative projects, the most notable being the haunting ‘Spell’, featuring Alec Bathgate of the Tall Dwarfs, and a gorgeous laconic ode to the capital city, ‘Wellington Song.’ Overall Split Seconds is less immediately appealingthanthe previous compilation, Beatin Hearts, but after repeated listens becomes just as pleasing. Look out for the final chapter, ConCH3 (first released by F.Nun in March 1985), sometime in May. JOHN RUSSELL

VARIOUS ARTISTS A Tribute to C u rti s M ayf ie I d (Warner Bros)

To many Curtis Mayfield is best known for his dude vocal on the movie theme song ‘Superfly’. But few realise his significance as, a popular song writer — he’s written and sung as a member of the Impressions in the 60s and since then he’s been prolific as a performer or producer until 1990 when a lighting rig collapsed on him paralysing him below the neck. With his massive catalogue of fine songs it was no doubt easy to get the finest singers to pay tribute here. The underappreciated Gladys Knight takes on the pro-civil rights ‘Choice of Colours’, while Lenny Kravitz chooses dudeera ‘Billy Jack’ and Narada Michael Walden chooses one of Curtis’ most adventurous 70s tracks ‘(Don’t Worry) If There’s A Hell Below, We’re All Going to Go’. ’ Few writers have so successfully as Mayfield combined melodic beauty with veiled but cut-

ting edge social sentiments. Sure there’s his classic love songs here, ’Fool For You’ from Branford Marsalis & the Impressions, Aretha’s ‘The Makings Of You' and Springsteen with ‘Gypsy Woman’, but songs like ‘Keep on Pushin” (Tevin Campbell), ‘lt’s Alright’ (Stevie Winwood), ‘Woman’s Got Soul’ (B.B.King), ‘People Get Ready’ (Rod Stewart), ‘l’m So Proud’ (Isleys) are among his finest songs and continue to be eloquent affirmations of black culture and human rights. That Mayfield was prolific is illustrated by the fact that songs such as ‘Moving On Up’ (Paul Weller) and ‘Something He Can Feel’ (En Vogue) have also been covered in recent years but are not among the 17 songs here. A lovingly created collection, with those warm modern recordings I like, celebrating one of the most beautiful people to ever write a song. MURRAY CAM MICK

TEXAS TORNADOS The Best of (Reprise)

If Midge Marsden, Sonny Day, Wayne Mason and Bunny Walters all tooktoo much salsa and tequila at a wedding, then jumped up to play, the result would be the Kiwi Tornados: loose, unpretentious, ethnically unique party music. That’s basically how this quartet of Tex-Mex legends got together. All were sharing a midlife crisis, then suddenly found another career more lucrative than their heyday. Between them, DougSahm, Augie Meyers, Freddy Fender and Flaco Jiminez can play any polka, honky tonker, ballad or pop tune you care to request on a jukebox in San Antonio. Afterthree albums — and presumably as a tiein with the Beverley Hillbillies soundtrack — here’s a greatest hits. But if you’ve got the Tornados’ self-titled debut, this is rather redundant - and, at only 33 minutes long, too damn short. The selection leans more on straight Mexican numbers than their diverse, energetic albums do, so by the end you’re polka’d out. The Doug Sahm vehicles such as ‘Who Were You Thinkin’ Of’ and ‘ls Anybody Goin’ to San Antone’ are included here and

irresistible. But they’re on the debut, which I’d recommend overthis. To explore further, delve into the Tex-Mex pop of the Sir Douglas Quintet, fuelled by Meyers’s inimitable Vox Continental organ riffs. CHRIS BOURKE

THERAPY? Troublegum (A&M)

Therapy? are the new kings of Northern Island’s rock n’roll, heirs to a wasteland once propped up by Stiff Little Fingers and the Undertones. Now Therapy? have revived Ulster fortunes with their own less political, more personalised brand of brainsaw neuroses. First up.’Screamager’ (read teenager, they like puns) the second song on Troublegum and a classic in the ‘Alternative Ulster’/’Teenage Kicks’ tradition, one of many from Andy Cairns and his band who’ve discovered breaking necks can be tuneful as well as physical. ‘Knives’ starts proceedings in nasty fashion but from there it’s intense killer pop all the way taking in reverent reconstruction oF Joy Division’s ‘lsolation’, crashing shards of melody and structure like ‘Nowhere’ and hardcore depression in the shape of ‘Unbeliever’. For-

get the question mark, this is therapeutic. GEORGE KAY - _ . . —— YOU AM I Sound As Ever '(Ra) THE STIFF KITTENS Eat the Peanuts (Psychic)

A couple of Aussie guitar heads bring us to You Am I with a debut recorded in Minnesota and produced by Sonic Youth’s Lee Renaldo. Superlatives, and comparisons with Husker Du and Nirvana have been heaped on Sound As Ever and on Tim Roger’s songs. There’s no doubt that Rogers is the perfect post-grunge minstrel and Renaldo has made the most of his guitar and vocal growl and slur. Too early for Cobain comparisons and there’s little evidence of the Mould/Hart brilliance, but Rogers is making appropriate noises even if they’re hardly his own. As their name suggests, Melbourne’s Stiff Kittens don’t take themselves too seriously as they busy themselves on this six track minialbum, picking up where vintage Lime Spiders/Radio Birdman aesthetics left off. In fact the opening two songs, ‘Don’t Think Much’ and ‘Hot Sands’ are classic Birdman riffs and

HERBS 13 Years of Herbs (Warner Music)

It’s standard procedure these days for a retrospective collection to come complete with liner notes, photos, personal reflections etc. That fact has escaped the folks at Warner Music who leave a great deal to be desired with their packaging of this Herbs compilation. A band with such an interesting history deserves to have it documented and this timely celebration of their career would have been the perfect format. It’s just as well that most of the songs here are gems that speak for themselves.

The first incarnation of Herbs was a four-piece Ponsonby band called Back Yard, who became Pacific Herbs, then Herbs in 1980. The cleverest aspect of their music was an undying desire to produce a Polynesian sound through Jamaican music. The first example of this is the now classic ‘French Letter’ which, alongside ‘No Nukes’ and ‘Nuclear Waste’, showcases Herbs career long commitment to environmental concerns in the Pacific.

The track listing avoids running in chronological order so it’s possible to pinpoint the different musical styles that Herbs followed as band members joined and departed. Earlier songs penned by Toni Fonoti or Spencer Fusimalohi such as ‘Dragons And Demons’ and ‘Jah Son’ are stark and raw reggae rhythms compared to the pop hits ‘Long Ago’, ‘Sensitive To A Smile’ and ‘Rust And Dust,’ written by Charlie Tumahai and Willie Hona.

Accompanying the majority of superb rock/ reggae tracks here are two horrendous mistakes. Ray Columbus and the Invaders ‘Till We Kissed’ and an acappella ‘Amazing Grace’ are best left unheard, and for some reason they have included Dobbyn’s ‘Slice Of Heaven’ as their own. Mostly though this is a fine retrospective of a band who at their peak were a leading light in the Pacific. JOHN RUSSELL

RIP IT UP Issue N 0.200, April 1994 Published by In Tune International Ltd Level 10, BNZ Tower, 125 Queen Street, Auckland 1. . Postal Address: PO Box 5689, Auckland 1. Phone (09) 3763-235, Fax (09) 3761-558 Editor Murray Cammick Sub-Editor Donna Yuzwalk Designers ' Ryan Henderson, Jonathan King Advertising Manager Sarah Nathan Direct Sales Hans Hoeflich Fire Warden Shirley-Anne Charles