back beat

Rip It Up, Issue 204, 1 August 1994, Page 30

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ROLLING STONES, Voodoo Lounge (Virgin)

The grayest rock’n’roll band in the world returns to justify a new record deal the size of our external deficit. To those who knew the Rolling Stones before they were Virgins, the sound is instantly familiar. You want that, but you also want to be surprised, to be moved by one new classic such as ‘Start Me Up’. Both MicknKeith’s last solo albums had them (‘Out of Focus’, ‘Hate It When You Leave’); if you joined their best songs together, you’d have a more satisfying Stones album than this one. Significantly, the solo songs have the most character: Keith’s late night country ballad, Mick’s return to ‘Lady Jane’ harpsichord. The rockers are Stones-by-numbers, Keith’s riffs reliable but Mick's vocals hammy. On the Tex-Mex duet they excel, and manage not to laugh at the lyrics: “Sweethearts forever / we’ve only just begun”. But the spontaneous craftsmanship of the playing (Charlie & Ron, take a bow) almost makes up for the unmemorable songs.

VIKA AND LINDA (Mushroom)

These Tongan/Australian sisters were born to sing together; their infectious harmonies come from their mother. Till recently with the Black

Sorrows, the stellar support team they’ve recruited (production by Paul Kelly, and several songs) testifies to the high esteem they’re held in Melbourne. Their gutsy voices exude warmth and the sheer pleasure of singing, across a compendium of styles: reggae, rock, Polynesian and country ballads. This breath of fresh air brings a smile to your face.

IGUANAS, Nuevo Boogaloo (MCA)

Instrumentally this goodtime Tex-Mex bar band is superb, and full of spirit, but you feel they’d be just as happy playing weddings as stadiums. The Latin grooves bounce along on the percussion - and the sax-heavy horn section, capable of breaking your heart or filling a sweaty dance floor. The only thing holding them back is their lack of ambition; stuck with By the Light of the Moon on replay, they’re destined to be Los Lobos’ second cousins.

MARTY BROWN, Wild Kentucky Skies (MCA)

A true country democrat, Marty wants to be all things to all people. Too real to be a hat act, he changes styles like radio formats on a car driving through the South. Heartfelt ballads leap to authentic Hank Williams honky tonk to Steve Earle rockers. With the same marketing suss, he could reduce Garth Brooks to taking his hat around.

LISA MEDNICK, Artificats of Love (Dejadisc)

Keyboardist in the last Chills lineup, Lisa Mednick has lived all over America and it shows. An accomplished pianist, the only evidence of her years in New Orleans is a rollicking tribute to Louisiana and Charles Neville guesting on soprano sax. Otherwise it’s an art-pop record in the introspective folkie tradition of Suzanne Vega or Joni Mitchell. Then she throws a few curve balls: an eerie Enya lament, two timeless country ballads Emmylou would be proud to sing. Despite the ever-changing moods, it works.

GLEN CLARK, Looking for a Connection (Dos)

Not the Byrd but a Texan cahoot of Delbert McClinton, Clark recently played keyboards for Bonnie Raitt and has sold songs to many greats. After 30 years in music, this unshowy debut isn’t

blues or country but something in between. ‘Love is a Rock’ and ‘I Want It All’ are excellent popsoul, ‘Crazy Dreams’ a Boz-like torch song. Clark’s Hammond organ playing is seductive, his light soul voice could be Stevie Winwood (if he came from Austin).

OTIS RUSH, Ain’t Enough Cornin’ In (This Way Up)

Rush’s ‘Alt Your Love’ kick-started the classic Clapton/Bluesbreakers album that was seminal to the British blues movement. Before that, his ‘Double Trouble’ and ‘So Many Roads’ were crucial to 50s Chicago blues. After a lifetime of raw deals, he makes a triumphant return that showcases his passionate voice (Sam Cooke in need of a gargle) and crystal-clear guitar. He proves that smooth blues doesn’t have to be sweat free a la Robert Cray, and borrows Ray Charles’s horn charts and dynamic suspense. Unlike Buddy Guy’s mainstream pandering, this comeback is as cocksure as Muddy Waters's Hard Again.

LALAH HATHAWAY, A Moment (Virgin)

Lalah may have inherited a dodgy first name from daddy Donny, but she also got his sweet soul sound. Updated for the 90s with sassy samples

and sequenced rhythms, this is cruisey studio soul made for fashion boutiques and safe-sex cocktail bars frequented by Alexander O’Neal. But underneath Lalah is something more: a retronuevo chanteuse like Anita Baker. She has also borrowed Stevie Wonder’s pop sense, plus his sappy lyrics and copious thank-you credits. But with hooky singles such as ‘Let Me Love You’ and a smart cover in ‘Family Affair’, Lalah could go far.

FRANK SINATRA, Sinatra and Sextet: Live in Paris (Reprise)

The Chairman of the Board, naked without a Nelson Riddle brass section. Thirty-two years after this concert, released now for the first time, Sinatra is still singing the same set-list. Is that casualness he exudes arrogance - or is his ennui starting to show? The boorish jokes (“Cherchez la femme ... which means in French, share the broad with me”), before an uncomprehending audience, suggests it’s both. But as he realises his vulnerability before this snappy, low-key combo, Sinatra starts making an effort and taking some risks. The liner notes apologise for his bad manners.

VAN MORRISON, A Night in San Francisco (Polydor)

On the other hand, Van the Man couldn’t be more generous and affable than he is on this gargantuan 145-minute live set. With Georgie Fame still at the helm on the B 3 organ, the big jumpblues band deftly shifts styles as, at a cracking pace, Van creates epic versions of old blues and jazz favourites - and his own songs, mostly from the last decade. It’s like an oldtime soul revue a la James Brown, Bobby Bland or B B King, with Morrison making musical references to Booker T, Sly Stone, Springsteen, Sam Cooke and innumerable blues greats. He turns over whole songs to guests such as sexy saxist Candy Dulfer, John Lee Hooker, Junior Wells, Belfast soulster Brian Kennedy - even his own daughter, Shana Morrison. Expansive and outgoing where the legendary It’s Too Late To Stop Now was intimate, this is a spirited statement of a mature, happy, Van Morrison.

CHRIS BOURKE