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Rip It Up, Issue 202, 1 June 1994, Page 29

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THE BAND, Jericho (Castle)

A reunion project much better than we had a right to expect. Nearly 20 years after The Last Waltz the remnants of the Band record some intelligently chosen covers and some patchy originals, and come up with half a great album; certainly it’s better than either of their duds, Cahoots and Islands. Dylan’s ‘Blind Willie McTell’ and Springsteen’s ‘Atlantic City’ sound like they were written forthem, ‘Too Soon Gone’ is a heart-breaking tribute to fallen colleague Richard Manuel, who makes a chilling reappearance in ‘Country Boy’ to prove once again he was the greatest ever wtoite soul singer. Levon Helm and Rick Danko sing with typical gusto, but the real hero of this is keyboardist Garth Hudson, confirming once and for all he was the unsung musical master of the group before it was killed by ego and opiates.

VARIOUS ARTISTS, Rhythm Country and Blues (MCA)

Country has always been soul sung in whiteface. This album of duets between soul legends and country celebrities proves there’s little difference between black and white, but it’s a great idea that wimps out by playing it safe. The country artists are mostly mainstream bores and the song choices are too obvious. Still, there are great moments, expecially ‘Funny How Time Slips Away’, funked up by Al Green and Lyle Lovett, and ‘Patches’ by B B King and George Jones, who were born to croon together.

JIMMY LAFAVE, Highway Trance (Bohemia Beat)

All originals this time from the man who dazzled last year with his Dylan interpretations. A generous 16 tracks, but once again I tend to programme out the generic rockers for the spellbinding ballads. His anguished voice is malleable and sincere; he uses his virtuostic technique not to show off but to deconstruct the meaning and melody of a song. With exquisite, subtle backing, moments off this could be from Astral Weeks.

LEWIS COWDRY, It’s Lewis (Antone’s)

Texan blues journeyman Cowdry has a thin voice but a seductive repertoire of slinky feels. His light-stepping band deftly captures the juke-joint atmosphere while avoiding the overblown tendencies of white blooze. Cowdrey obviously grew up listening to local heroes such as Bobby Bland, Junior Parker and Little Milton, but somehow I can also hear

the quirky pop of Alex Chilton. The immediate appeal of this took me by surprise.

P THE SUBDUDES, Annunciation (BMG)

Difficult third album time for New Orleans acoustic quartet the Subdudes, whose raves from critics and musicians haven’t translated into sales. Their sound — strident vocal harmonies, accordion, tambourine — remains the same, like the Band meets the Warratahs. What they lack in memorable songs they make up for in enthusiasm; infectious live, on record something more is needed.

CRESCENT CITY GOLD, The Ultimate Session (BMG)

A reunion of New Orleans rock’n’roll legends that should have been a party, but ends up more like a recital. Allen Toussaint leads the all-star band (Dr John, Alvin Tyler, Lee Allen) but the loose wrists of drummer Earl Palmer steal the show. The old friends have fun with old favourites from their heyday, such as ‘Lucille’ and ‘Don’t You Just Know It’. But Toussaint’s new songs dominate; lacking spontaneity and flair, they become tepid instrumental workouts for session men.

WILLIE NELSON, Moonlight Becomes You (Columbia)

Willie strolls down Tin Pan Alley for Son of Stardust. A celebration of songwriting’s golden age, when tunes had verses, choruses and happy endings. Nelson’s effortless, crystal clear vocal takes a sentimental journey (that’s only occasionally cloying), accompanied by a small combo that’s more jazz than country. Standouts among the classics here are ‘Someday’ and ‘Have I Stayed Away Too Long’ and Nelson’s own ‘December Day’.

r LEON REDBONE, Whistling in the Wind (BMG)

Tin Pan Alley specialist Leon Redbone has a voice so low it makes your teeth vibrate. His albums recall the days when people sang Stephen Foster songs around the Pianola, played the spoons and formed barber-shop quartets. Redbone’s originals sit happily beside his usual pre-war obscurities. His small acoustic band features a Hawaiian steel guitar, and Merle Haggard and Ringo Starr make cameo appearances. Although your grandmother would love this, the only essential Redbone is still his 1975 debut, On the Track.

TED HAWKINS, The Next Hundred Years (Geffen)

. Neither blues nor folk but somewhere in between, busker Hawkins is reminiscent of Paul Übana Jones. He is in full command of his raspy voice, exuding passion and sincerity. His originals seem to go back to black field songs, but he includes two great covers: Webb Pierce’s ‘There Stands the Glass’ (a piece of black country more genuine than anything on the duets album above) and an almost-acappella version of Creedence’s ‘Long as I Can See the Light’. Jim Keltner, Billy Payne arid others provide low-key backing; .

KATE CEBERANO & FRIENDS (Mushroom)

Canary Kate struts her vocal stuff in an eclectic series of covers to jazzy backing. This suffers from too much good taste: the flawless playing won’t disturb the decor. Some of the songs are overdue for resurrection (‘Feeling Alright’); some are redundant (‘I Got You Under My Skin’); some should have remained buried (‘Our House’). Consistent to start with; by the time the Patsy Cline medley comes around, it’s a grab-bag. With guest appearances by Margaret Urlich and Vince Jones, a new song from Paul Kelly — and a fine JB take-off by Jon Stevens, soul king of Petone. CHRIS BOURKE