albums

Rip It Up, Issue 227, 1 July 1996, Page 27

albums

GARAGELAND Last Exit to Garageland (Flying Nun) I feel like a proud father. I didn’t donate sperm or anything — but my beloved Gargeland have promised a stunning album for a good time now, ever since I first saw them back in those hazy, heady days of 94. They haven’t failed. Some of the songs they performed then are still the classics they seemed, but they’ve improved, built on their base, adding the clean simpleness of songs like ‘Beelines to Heaven’ to compliment the likes of ‘Comeback’ and ‘Nude Star’. Garageland show their confidence and, more importantly, their talent by leaving classic songs like ‘Cut it Out’ and ‘Pop Cigar’ possibly lost in B-side obscurity. Instead of throwing in any number of their nine hardly average B-sides, they give us the three singles and nine new tracks. The album itself (complete with Garageland’s tres cool stylised 60s artwork) is a varied and thoroughly rewarding experience — full on FX laden guitars (‘Nude Star’, ‘Come Back’) timeless pop (‘Beelines’ and ‘Classically Diseased’), and lighters aloft, sumptuous ballads like ‘Jesus I’m Freezing’. Plus, all songs come with extra added bonus of unlimited whammy bar wibbling — Garageland’s effective trademark. It’s not all perfect — the production is not as lush as it wants to be, it’s occasionally lyrically weak and all the singles lie huddled together at the beginning of the album — but it would be plain wrong to be perfect first time up. Nevertheless, it’s a fantastic, ‘greatest hits’ sounding album that shows shades of, dare I say, genius. See them live, collect the EPs and — to end with the biggest cliche to ever disgrace music reviewing — buy the album. MITCHELL HAWKES ELVIS COSTELLO AND THE ATTRACTIONS All This Useless Beauty (Warners) 1994 saw Costello reunited with the Attractions on the stand-out Brutal Youth. Accompanied again by that most erstwhile and sympathetic of backing bands, All This Useless Beauty comes on like Son of Brutal Youth, seemingly tossed off with a brilliance that borders on casual arrogance. Over a 20-year recording career, Costello has penned enough classic songs to confirm his legendary status. And surprise, surprise, All This Useless Beauty proves again Costello’s durability and songwriting genius. From the opening ‘The Other End of the Telescope’ (co-authored by Aimee Mann), to the haunting finale ‘I Want to Vanish’ (accompanied by the Brodsky Quartet), All This Useless Beauty is

sprinkled liberally with Costello pearls. The yearning balladry of the title track and ‘Why Can’t a Man Stand Alone?’ showcase one side of Costello’s musical personality, while the Byrdsian 'You Bowed Down’ and punchy 'Shallow Grave' satisfy his rocker’s urge. Undeniably, the sound and feel of All This Useless Beauty harks back to early-80s Elvis — an obvious reference point given the presence of the Attractions. Yet one gets the sense Costello is not making albums like this because it’s either required or expected of him. He continues to make ’em this way because his ability and desire to do so remain strong. Costello’s not trying to reclaim the past here, or even forge a new identity for himself as the century dribbles to a close. He’s just writing and performing and recording great songs, same as he ever did. Quality endures, and Elvis Costello has it by the bucket load. MARTIN BELL CROWDED HOUSE Recurring Dream (Capitol) Crowded House were a band that preferred to be discovered little by little, rather than being exposed all at once. They released four albums of ascending brilliance, during which time they matured and evolved from a boisterous band of upstarts (in the very best sense of the phrase), to a pop group of classic proportions. Recurring Dream is a fairly straightforward, greatest hits reflection on their career, and similar to most albums of this nature, features the odd surprising inclusion, and puzzling omission. The only major criticism would be that little thought appears to have been devoted to the chronological order and flow of the selected tracks, but otherwise what’s here is, overall, of an impeccably high standard. Crowded House’s 1987 eponymous debut showcased a band, in a sense, still in awe of the world outside. This was reflected in the innocent, melodic pop of ‘Something So Strong’, ‘Mean to Me’, and the breakthrough first single, ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’. These introductory tracks, although embellished with touches of Split Enz, suggested the younger Finn was heading off to explore another tangent, and those with any sense would stick around for the ride.

Two years on and the follow up, Temple Of Low Men, saw a subtle reshaping of their sound, with Finn adding heavier textures and more introspective lyrical themes, resulting in ‘I Feel Possessed’, the haunting ‘lnto Temptation’, the fiercely majestic ‘When You Come’, and a deceptively ominous ballad entitled ‘Better Be Home Soon’.

In 1991, the big news was that Tim Finn had joined the band for the mak-

ing of the Woodface album — a record that married the crisp poppiness of Crowded House with the darker elements of Temple. Featured here are the Finn brothers compositions ‘Weather With You’ and ‘Four Seasons in One Day’, plus Neil’s solo efforts ‘lt’s Only Natural’ and ‘Fall at Your Feet’ — the latter a stunningly beautiful song that served as a taster for what was brewing. . i

Album number four, the priceless Together Alone, came along in 1993, and Crowded House had hit their stride. The dramatic environment of Karekare Beach, northwest of Auckland, provided the backdrop for the recording sessions, and to stay in Neil Finn’s head for the duration of the album was akin to feeling your mind float deliciously away from your body. Dominated by lush, atmospheric ballads, Together Alone also contained evidence of Finn’s rockier side in 'Locked Out’ and ‘Pineapple Head’, and of course displayed his pop mastery with the serene 'Distant Sun’. But nothing could prepare you for ‘Private Universe’, a song from another place, guaranteed one of the coolest of this decade.

Recurring Dream is completed by three new songs: ‘lnstinct’, ‘Everything Is Good For You’, and the strikingly gorgeous, Lennon-influenced ‘Not The Girl You Think You Are’. And that's it. The saddest aspect of the entire Crowded House saga, is the achievements of Neil Finn and co., both creative and commercial, have generally been taken for granted in their own backyard. In New Zealand, perhaps because we’re so used to having a Finn or two about the place, Crowded House never received the degree of praise and respect they so clearly deserved. Undoubtedly, in years to come, that will be rectified,, and Crowded House will be acknowledged as the best pop band of the late 80s and early 90s. Appreciate them now, and avoid the rush. JOHN RUSSELL ME’SHELL NDEGEOCELLO Peace Beyond Passion (Maverick) A quick recap for anyone who missed out on Plantation Lullabies, her startling debut of a couple of years back: NdegeOcello (Swahili, pronounced ‘N-day-gay-O-chello’) was born in Berlin and raised in the US. An accomplished pianist and superb bassist, she also possesses a captivating voice. Sometimes singing, sometimes talking, and sometimes somewhere in between, her vocal delivery can resonate with streetwise cool, before slipping effortlessly into tender ‘femme’ yearning. NdegeOcello’s debut album was a fistful of funk, soul and jazz ingredients, in a hip-hop flavoured stew. It also featured some tough talking lyrics on issues from race, to religion, to sex. However, where the mood of Plantation Lullabies sometimes swelled into rage and bitterness, this time out there’s more control, a greater sense of compassion. NdegeOcello’s anger at prejudice hasn’t disappeared — check out ‘Leviticus: Faggot’ — but the title Peace Beyond Passion doesn’t seem ironical the way Lullabies did. Appropriately, the music is generally less aggressive. She can still drive a funk that’ll move all but the dead; it’s just the grooves are subtler now. NdegeOcello’s jazz background is being felt more, and it’s not only her basslines that are stunning — the Arp solo in the ballad ‘Mary Magdalene’ is exquisite evidence of her keyboard prowess.

NdegeOcello’s also recruited a stellar support crew. Included are exPrince sidekick Wendy Melvoin, saxophone hero Joshua Redman, and clarinettist Bennie Maupin (whose pedigree reaches back to Herbie Hancock’s great Headhunters unit of the 70s). Guitarist Wah Wah Watson and string

arranger Paul Riser claim credits on some classic Motown hits.

All this genre mixing has produced an even more exciting album than last time. The title may be indicative of its creator’s overall mood, but Peace Beyond Passion is also a misnomer. There’s plenty here to feel very passionate about. PETER THOMSON METALLICA Load (Vertigo) The rumours aren’t true — Metallica did not break up, they have not gone techno (although there is a remix by Moby of ‘Until it Sleeps), and they are not changing their name to Countrylica! Sure, there’s a bit of pedal steel on the new single, and the so-laidback-it-could-almost-be-the Eagles song ‘Mama Said’, but the rest is that good ol’ heavy music we’ve come to love and expect from Metallica. Apart from the occasional return to riffs from The Black Album (like in ‘King Nothing’ when you think James is going to sing the line: ‘Sleep with one eye open...’), Load is a fully laden, few steps forward down the rocky metal highway. Along the way they’ve trashed the thrash and eased the speed to become masters of the game. An element of hard blues creeps in on ‘Poor Twisted Me’, with dramatic results, and they take full advantage of Bob Rock’s great production all the way. This refined sound has put more focus onto Kirk Hammet’s ever improving guitar skills, enhanced with plenty of wah-wah, and even voice box on ‘The House That Jack Built’.

Initally the tracks ‘Bleeding Me’, ‘2x4’, and the final, ‘Outlaw Torn’, stand out as best, but with nearly 80 minutes running time, there's a fair amount of familiarising to be done for the first few hundred listens. Metallica can be very confident they’ve come up with another winner which they can tour into the next century. Loar/.must be loud, so put it on and turn your amp right up to 11! GEOFF DUNip BILGE FESTIVAL The Shrimp Boats (Wildside) The Shrimp Boats... You can just see old Leo Mellon leaning over that hulk. It’s a New England winter and the locals are suspicious of any out-of-towner. But, hey, thats their way. And boy, the way they work sure earns respect. Listen to (he last minute of ‘Rash’; it’s stormy (seas out there. By the way ‘A Framer begins, someone might think these people are being downright hostile, and hostile in a nasty sort of way, not just an ‘I don’t understand you’ way. It’s that laughter in the background. Are you sure they’re not getting ready for a lynchin’? Even ‘The Foamin’, with its promise of a delicate piece of water music, soon . causes the fear of Davy Jones’ locker to be thrust deep in the hearts of all our shipmates. Yep, they’re having some sort of sinister celebration down there in the bilge. We are, of course, all invited; but it’ll be a reluctant push — kinda like walking the plank. frightening, but it’s also duty. ' DONALD REID BUTTHOLE SURFERS Electriclarryland (Capitol) Like a festering scab waiting to be picked at, the Butthole Surfers second major label album is offered for your unhealthy gratification. So, whats on the menu this time? More of the same, of course. Eclectic, oxymoronic, diseased rock ’n’ roll. From the pencil-in-ear cover art to the Eric Estrada cameo in the video for first single ‘Pepper’, the Buttholes prove that insanity- is a viable career choice. Unafraid to incorporate divergent influences, the prod-

uct is a doggie-bag of unbridled creativity. ‘Pepper’ dawdles along around a slow hip-hop beat, with Gibby Haynes’ Beck-like stream of consciousness rap and Paul Leary’s fuzzed out guitar. Even weirder tracks include the bad trip of ‘My Brother’s Wife’, and the French conversation/Haynes spoken word piece ‘Lets Talk About Cars’. Others, like ‘LA’ and ‘Ulcer Breakout’, see the band content to hammer away at simple two-chord riffs to get their message out. Ex-Rollins Band bassman Andrew Weiss appears on a handful of songs, including the straight country twang of ‘TV Star’. Produced by Leary and Stuart Sullivan, Electriclarryland contains a challenging and colourful fare. A couple of ex-busi-ness students, Haynes and Leary show there can be life after commerce school. GAVIN BERTRAM ASH 1977 (Infectious) If image is important in selling records, Ash’s Irish pop whizz-kids-still-at-school tag has certainly paid dividends. The media angle of the trio squeezing out hit singles between sitting their A levels gave the band almost automatic access to their generation. As much as anything else, the significantly titled 1977 (the year punk shook the world and around the year these brats were born) traces Ash’s development as a singles band from the instant kinetic pop of ‘Kung Fu’ and ‘Girl From Mars’, to the more melodramatic strains of ‘Angel Interceptor’ and ‘Goldfinger’. The growing maturity evident in their singles extends to most of 1977, particularly in the memorable bittersweet highs of ‘Gone the Dream’ and ‘Oh Yeah’, and on the more direct rock ’n’ roll guitars of ‘Let it Flow’ and ‘lnnocent Smile'. So, Ash’s ability to tear themselves away from the wholly predictable thrills of two chord pop means 1977 is multi-faceted enough to suggest they have the substance and the potential to outlast the current Britpop hyperbole. GEORGE KAY SLAYER Undisputed Attitude (American) In a stunning recent development famous thrash metallers and all round brutal, evil, nasty band Slayer have become hoodwinked by slimy, manipulative, hairdressing apprentices masquerading as punk rockers (Green Day, Rancid, Offspring etc.). The big hearted and black hearted men of Slayer have released an album of punk rock covers so the ‘kids’ can enjoy punk the way it was meant to sound. Angered at the feline nature of what was passing for punk, Jeff, Tom and the lads have decided to revisit their thrash punk roots. Originally Undisputed Attitude was going to be an album of covers reflecting the many different influences that have shaped the Slayer sound. However, in a bold move guaranteed to please their many loyal punk fans, Slayer have released a 100 percent dodgy-metal-free punk rock bonanza! If you like punk rock and Slayer (one and the same really!) then you’d better get some attitude... some ’tude... get some tood, me old muckers. KEV LIST

INCHWORM Skinny (Independent) I’m stijl kicking myself for missing Inchworm at the Big Day Out, so it’s with immense satisfaction I get to hear Hamilton’s finest through this 10-track independent release. Inchworm sound like a hundred different bands at a hundred different times. One moment they may share the rollercoaster feel that Swervedriver used to have with their swirling guitars, the next it’s Bailter Space or the Verlaines, the Able Tasmans, David Kilgour, Bilge Festival. • What it comes down to is, Inchworm sound like Inchworm — a hybrid of their obviously well chosen influences. The album starts promisingly with the layered guitars and whispered vocals of ‘Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are’, before heading into Inchworm’s personal rendition of the world’s most sung song, 'Happy Birthday’. ‘Happy Birthday’ begins frighteningly with a cheesy bar of the song we all know so well, before Inchworm get into the business of kickin’ out a good melodic groove. It’s the classic anti-birthday anthem, with an opening line of, ‘I say happy birthday, but you don’t care at all’, peaking with the singer wryly shouting, ‘happy birthday to you!’. It’ll work great as the sulkers alternative to the Sugarcubes standard (‘Birthday’) which is normally brought out on these occasions. The rest of the album is packed with gems: the slow burning ‘Air Conditioned’, an angst ridden, impassioned ‘Short Song’ (1 minute 55 seconds — I guess that qualifies), and the blistering noise-pop of ‘Shine’ help make Shiny an album which is packed with good songs and well, worth a gander. " DOMINIC WAGHORN THE AXEL GRINDERS Kill Them Twice! (Zero) . For no apparent reason other than the divine intervention of John Baker, here’s an ass-kicking package custommade to restore the bits of anyone’s . memory that went missing along the way to today. Having been one of the drunk Gluey punters heard screaming at the end of ‘I Don’t Wanna Know’, believe me, I know how brains can get damaged. Things slide in nice' and sleazy with ‘Apparatus of Love’, lulling one into the kind of mood where, yeah, maybe it is okay to have a coupla whiskeys while the sun’s still high. Then 'Don’t Worry, Be Sappy’ comes a-screamin’ out of your set-up, and you start to pray the night will fall soon, so you can sprout your fangs and start whippin’ your hair around in a public place without being looked out strangely. Guitars are turned into beamer death rays on ‘a traditional Jewish’ song called ‘Light Years From the County Farm', which (just quietly) seems to owe a lot more to punk than yarmulkas. ‘Joe Orton’ and Gene Pool Pollutant (‘One part beer and two parts wine’) are instant classics, while the Ken Weaver penned ‘I Couldn’t Get High’ is the kind of swamp crawling sonofabitch that’s only purpose on earth must surely be to swallow your children. Sure, you can kill 'em twice, but remember, they’re already back from the dead. . BRONWYN TRUDGEON

PANTERA The Great Southern Trendkill (Warners) The return of the mighty Pantera after the platinum, all conquering Far Beyond Driven certainly doesn’t herald a change of direction for the very metal four-piece. Great Southern Trendkill does, however, indicate Pantera are not the one dimensional raging beast many would imagine. Within the requisite muscular grooves lie some subtler, darker moments. Of course, Phil Anselmo’s screams are still those of an anguished man, and Dimebag Darrell’s

. manic riffing and squeally soloing are still as over the top as ever. Recorded in Darrell’s garage studio with Terry Date and drummer Vinnie Paul behind the desk, everything’s huge and louder than life in the mix. ‘War Nerve’, ‘Drag the Waters’ and ‘l3 Steps to Nowhere’ are stomping, intense numbers with lyrics like, “fuck the world for all it’s worth’, and other positive messages for today’s troubled youth. Then there’s ‘Suicide Note’ parts one and two; ‘Part 1’ sounding a little like Temple of the Dog in it’s contemplation, while ‘Part 2’ is charged with the confused pain of a suicidal person. Pantera’s strengths are threefold. The rhythm section of Vinnie Paul and bassist Rex is one of the meanest around, while Anselmo’s vocals condense the pain of a generation. Darrell simply reinvents metal guitar, taking things to another level. Expect no mercy. GAVIN BERTRAM PIZZICATO FIVE The Sound Of Music (Matador) No, not that Sound of Music — there’s not a singing von Trapp in sight here. Instead you’ll find the second album length instalment from Japanese duo Nomiya Maki and Konishi Yauharu, whose sonic melting-. pot goes by the name of Pizzicato Five. The Sound of Music offers the same crazy mix of cod-Motown soul, hiphop beats, jazzy rhythms, scored arrangements, surf guitar, clattering drums and frantic Japanese vocals (to name the disparate elements, in but one song) that featured on their

endearing debut album, Made in USA. If that album mapped out the Pizzicato Five blueprint, The Sound of Music merely adds a few extensions to the original plan. The songs on The Sound of Music cascade into one another in rapid-fire succession, from the Jackson Five-ish ‘Happy Sad’, to the svelte and languid lounge groove of ‘Fortune Cookie’, to the dub heavy excursion of the St. Etienne re-mixed ‘Peace Music’ At a very generous 16 tracks, spread over 65 minutes, The Sound of Music is perhaps a tad too much Pizzicato to digest in one sitting, particularly as the busy Japanese vocals are only occasionally broken up by the odd English backing vocal or chorus segment — except, of course, for ‘Good’, with its English and French lead vocal sung in a Japanese accent. Sacre bleu! — go figure. If it made any sort of sense, I guess it wouldn’t be Pizzicato Five. Just enjoy their goofy charm and don’t ask any questions, OK? MARTIN BELL PAUL WESTERBERG Eventually (Reprise) It’s been three years since Westerberg’s last unspectacularly titled (unspectacular, really, in all ways) album 14 Songs. Well, the good news is, he’s bothered to put a name to these 13 — Evenually (phewwww) — and it’s an air of shrugged shoulders, defeatism and disconnectedness which links this fey (and newly sober) baker’s dozen. But, Paul, when you resort to couplets like, ‘You got call

waitin’ / It’s so irritatin’ (‘Ain’t Got Me), we just remember how much we miss the fire and humour and beauty of your best stuff (it’s not the same as, ‘How can you say, ‘I love you’, to an answering machine?’, now, is it?). We learn, in ‘Once Around the Weekend’, Paul now stays at home every night — but he sings it with such longing (‘I watch myself fall apart /1 watch the rabbits in my yard... I gotta sweep this floor again...’), you suspect it ain’t gonna last long. That song, the hesitant rocker ‘Love Untold’, and the tribute to late Replacement Bob Stinson, ‘Good Day’, are Westerberg at his best, and could break your heart at paces. The rest are either substandard pub rock ('Stain yer Blood’ anyone?), or sound like forcefed pop (‘These are the Days’). Please, next time just give him violins and pianos and guitars — for I can think of no one better to write our elegies. GREG FLEMING THE CURE Wild Mood Swings (Warners) You’ll be pleased to know the rest of the album is nothing like that plonker of a single, ‘The 13th’. In fact, if you’ve ever liked the Cure, you’ll find something in here that’ll satisfy a thirst you never knew you had. As Mr Smith sings on ‘Want’ there’s, ‘more drink, more drugs, more lies, more love’, possibly in that order. Wild Mood Swings is an apt title. The only other album that features so many of their different guises would be Standing on a Beach. There are a couple of Wish type songs, all grandeur and guitar, a couple of delicate experimental Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Mes, the obligatory morose dose of Disintegration-esque stuff and, well, a mixture of their best ideas from the last decade (not many Three Imaginary Boys or Pornography sounds — but hey, that was nearly 20 years ago!). The tricky part is the initial purchase. Even if they were your musical religion in the past, you've probably (hopefully) grown out of all that by now. But don’t think yourself above it all. Bob doesn’t seem to have aged or become stale — he’s just getting better at what he does best. Yeah, there’s a bit of doom and gloom, but it’s not all pervading. ‘This is a Lie”s warm quartet, and the poignant sitar and acoustic guitar of ‘Numb’, pull apart those heart strings. And the tracks like new single ‘Mint Car’, the parp-parp

horns of ‘Gone’ (‘Get up, get out and have some fun, fun, fun!’) and, of course, the Ferris Bueller rush of ‘Return’ are all the results of Bob’s new attitude: go to a big cool house with a bunch of mates, have a lot to drink and make music when you feel like it. So, far from being meaningless in 1996, as we’d all expected, Wild Mood Swings won’t just surprise you with its infectious brilliance, it’ll remind you why you liked the Cure in the first place. JOHN TAITE DEF LEPPARD Slang (Mercury) Of the many British metal bands that appeared at the beginning of the 80s, Def Leppard seem to be the only one that has stood the test of time. They definitely went pop after the first few albums, but are back into a solid rock groove now with Slang, and it’s a fair improvement on their last offering, Adrenalize. Guitarist Vivien Campbell (he replaced Steve Clarke, who died in 1991) contributes a lot this time, which makes for quite a variation on the usual Leppard sound. The big production and stadium choruses have been pruned back somewhat, to give a more genuine impression of how the group can actually play. Drummer Rick Allen has even resorted to an acoustic kit for the first time since he lost his arm in that car crash 12 years ago. They've also taken a page from Robert Plant’s book of rock by adding an Eastern flavour to some songs, most noticably on ‘Turn to Dust’, which also features an orchestra. As suspected, there are a couple of sickly sweet ballads targeted for airplay here, but mainly Slang is a strong start to the next stage of Def Leppard’s career in the rockin’ business. GEOFF DUNN RICHARD THOMPSON you? me? us? (Capitol) It’s hard to believe it was 30 years ago when Richard Thompson embarked on a professional career in music as part of Fairport Convention. Still, time flies when you’re a brilliantly multi-talented, miserable old bugger, plotting your massively influential course through folk and rock, and still clinging to fragile Celtic roots and the laconic belief the music speaks for

The double CD you? me? us? is another impressive example of Thompson's ability to convey the emotional honesty of a moment through his unaffected vocals and inspired guitar playing. The first CD, wryly titled ‘Voltage Enhanced’, is Thompson on electric guitar peaking on the magnificently bitter ‘Put it There Pal’, which concludes on a blistering solo, while on the anti-greed blues of ‘Bank Vault in Heaven’ and the lost love of ‘The Ghost of Your Walks’ he shows he’s still at home with social comment and personal expose. That said, second CD ‘Nude’ is Thompson musically and emotionally laid bare, an uncomfortable experience for the electric generations, but meat and drink for an old folkie. Thompson turns his pessimism over love and relationships on ‘Cold Kisses’ and ‘The Razordance’, into powerful confessions. Those who think power is volume, or angst began with Cobain, better bend an ear and a few soul fibres to the essential Richard Thompson, now in his fourth decade! GEORGE KAY PORNO FOR PYROS Good God’s Urge (Warners) It may be cold and wet on this side of the world, but I get the feeling it never rains on Planet Porno, wherever its inhabitants decide to make it on any given day. With songs like the exhilirating ‘Tahitian Moon’ and the hallucinatory ‘Bali Eyes’ (‘Ate a mushroom turned into 8a1i...’), it’s easy to mark their physical travels on your map — but harder to explain the tracks they make on your soul. The schizophrenic title track brings back deliriously fond memories of both their Auckland shows, where I learned on subsequent nights that this music works equally whether you’re shaking it like a mad dog or sitting it out with a shit-eating smile on your face. The astonishing (even by Perry’s standards), escalating, synthesised vocal range that marks the climax of ‘Porpoise Head’ could shatter windows at the right kind of volume. ‘IOO Ways’ (spiced with Ralf Rickert’s wonderful trumpet) is as romantic as Porno for Pyros' ‘Orgasm’ was seductive , and joins ‘Kimberley Austin’ in the albums two most beautiful moments. The siren-like guitar of ‘Tahitian Moon’ comes on like a call to throw responibility to the wind and party wet. ‘dogs

rule the night’ is the closest things get to looking back at the prevailing party boy vibe of the aforementioned eponymous debut. Otherwise this is largely an album of celebrating the senses — be they altered or otherwise — with the case in point being the ecstatic moment when ‘Wishing Well’ hits its happy stride. This is delicious in the extreme, and easily as indespensible as its predecessor. BRONWYN TRUDGEON SHED SEVEN A Maximum High (Polydor) The opening song is called ‘Getting Better’ and, I guess, they are. A fellow hack (well, ‘reviewer’ sounds a bit wanky) tells me they're amazing live, but that’s like saying a film is better if you’ve read the book — not good enough. A Maximum High is a very mature album from a band whose main fault in the past was their naivety and, er, their crap music. While we’re on the topic of pointless observations, the album cover clearly advocates tenpin bowling on acid, and I’m sorry, but I cannot abide tenpin bowling. The big hit is ‘Going for Gold’, which pinches the riff from ‘Suspicious Minds' and comes up with a half decent tune that would have been written by the Fine Young Cannibals if we were living in 1986. Track five is nice, whatever it’s called, and a handful of the other songs are worth their salt, but dammit, I don’t want to listen to a band that’s refining and pining for the old Madchester days. And I could’ve mentioned Inspiral Carpets, but I’m not that cruel. Then again, if you like Cast, who knows? JOHN TAITE VARIOUS ARTISTS Device Was Too Fleshy/ Valve Magazine No. 7 (Yellow Bike) So, maybe you live in the selfobsessed mega-burb that is Auckland, and are growing tired with analysing the decor of High Street bars and continually hearing the story of what’s-their-name being taken from behind at the Big Day Out. This Palmy born mag and its accompanying CD, both of which focus on some of New Zealand’s lesser known spoken word, musical and literary talent, may be just the non-Auckland culture injection you’re looking for.

The CD’s content is generally raw in production and tone, with the exception of Sandra Bell’s soothing ‘Aureole’. Overseas- contributions come courtesy of past visitors Unsane and Jello Biafra recorded live in Wellington (Dead Kennedys completists take note). Jack Black’s ‘Mr Quiggly’ raised a smile. Aside from a very interesting Jim ‘Foetus’ Thirwell tour rumour, Valve No. 7 features a chunky mix of wordsmithery and artwork. Of greatest interest were the transcripted conversations with Sandra Bell and Dunedin visionary and prophetess Gaylene. Live-to-air performances on the radio next time you’re up here, please. Most will probably want to buy this for the Jello Biafra spoken word, and who can blame them. But that’s not the only reason this may end up in your collection. ' DAVID HOLMES LEE PERRY People Funny Boy (Trojan/Chant) People Funny Boy is a strong collection of rock steady and early reggae, featuring many of Scratch’s earlier credited productions. Scratch had been recording since about 1960, spending time with various producers, until he set up his own label in 1968. People Funny Boy covers a wide range, from the title track, a swipe at fellow producer Prince Buster, to ‘Blowing in the Wind’, with the amazing vocals of Burt Walters, the ersatz version of ‘Spanish Harlem’, and the inspirational ‘Tighten Up’ and ‘Return to Django'. Scratch had an amazing output and worked with a lot of people, so there’s bound to be a few misses, but oohh, the classics. Just listen to the simple refrain of ‘Sentence’ by Danny and Lee — pure magic. MARK BEVINGTON COMBUSTIBLE EDISON Schizophonic (Sub Pop) This is the third Combustible Edison album to be released here this year, thanks to the late release of I, Swinger and the fact the ‘various artists’ moniker on the Four Rooms soundtrack failed to stop the album coming off like their’s in the majority rules stakes. ' ; • Harmonica meets harpsichord on ‘Alright, Already’, which has that kitschest of all musical interludes... a

lead whistling break. The result sounds like a 50s TV show’s closing credits. The lovely Miss Lilly Banquette takes a quick dip in some underwater singing effects'on the bubbleicious ‘Solid State’. ‘One Eyed Monkey’ is jungleicious in a way that was invented long before the current craze going by the J label (think safari films of old — panama hats, pink gins on the terrace of one’s pole hut, monkeys screaming — not the label applied to the latest music at the mercy of those baggy-trousered fashion victims).

The Combustibles save the best for last (and other cliches I have known) and ‘Lonelyville’, on which Lilly croons ‘Population of three / Just me, myself and I’, backed by an angelic choral line. Hot up that black coffee and prepare to stay up crying till dawn. BRONWYN TRUDGEON GREENWICH FARM RUBADUB SCIENTIST Dub in the Roots Tradition KING TUBBY AND SOUL SYNDICATE Freedom Sounds in Dub (Blood and Fire/Chant) More serious dub-wise treasure for your listening pleasure. As always, it’s a treat to get the new Blood and Fire stuff ’cause the packaging is sooo good. Yeah, born to be a consumer. Greenwich Farm Rubadub consists of two CDs in a box set, featuring crucial dub rhythms released after 20 years from two mixing desk masters whose influence has lasted the decades. Dub in the Roots Tradition is a collection of tracks produced by Errol ‘Don’ Mais for Roots Tradition in the late 70s. Mais, who featured on the New York dancehall scene in the early 80s, was recording at Dynamic and Channel One studios with singers like Sammy Dread and Earl Zero. The vocals were mixed at King Tubby’s, often by Hopetoun Overton Brown, more commonly known as Scientist and just 17 or 18 when he cut the tracks featured here — just beginning to get loose in King Tubby’s studio and out to prove himself. Using the hard rhythms created by the Sonics and a group featuring Style Scott that later became the Roots Radies, he stripped the sound back to drum and bass — the original dancehall style, later imitated by many. And on tracks like ‘Tinson Pen Dub’ (with its wistful melodica melody), and ‘King

Tubby’s Key’ (with a piano), he shifted the sonic severity into a more mellow scale. Drum and bass drive King Tubby’s sounds. But Tubby had the rhythms created by Freedom Sounds founder and producer Betram Brown and the Soul Syndicate to work on. Brown was producing some wicked roots music with vocalists like Prince Alla, who features on five tracks here, and mixing it at King Tubby’s. It doesn’t share Scientist’s minimalism. Although strictly rhythm, Freedom Sounds in Dub keeps the singers in with a warm, slow, fat sound. Hit sounds from the man who helped define dub. MARK REVINGTON SAMMY Tales of Great Neck Glory (Geffen) There are a couple of people out there who might think the only reason I wanted to review Sammy was because they’re Beck’s favourite band, but those people would be wrong(ish). Sammy may have the worst possible 80s, neon mascara band photo, but after opening song ‘Possibly Peking’ you realise this cool, young-Lou Reed-fronting-Pavement kind of band shouldn’t be judged by their cover. After all, Jesse Hartman (vocals/guitar) played with Richard Hell (of the Voidoids fame) on tour, and the other band member, Luke Wood (bass/guitars), used to play with Girls Against Boys. Aaaand they put out their debut album (Debut Album) on Smells Like, the label run by Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth’s drummer). But the quirks don’t end there. They don’t play live, they don’t have a permanent drummer and they recorded this album in a week, working 18 hour days. The out of kilter guitars and casual

feel will appeal to the Pavement fans and the vocals and lyrics will give Lou Reed fans the itchy arms. It’s obvious why Beck likes them. Did I mention there’s a Beck interview this issue? JOHN TAITE MOTHER GOOSE Stuffed (Mushroom) Coinciding with the revival of interest in Dunedin music, resulting from the fascinating triple CD ...but I can write songs okay, Mother Goose’s 1977 album, Stuffed, has reappeared. Renowned principally for the irritating novelty hit ‘Baked Beans’ and their outlandish stage show, the album is a reminder much of the band’s music had a more serious poignancy that’s actually worn pretty well. The pre-punk harmonies, Johnstone’s whimsical vocals, and the overly fussy arrangements and dated sound can’t obscure the fact things like ‘Last of the Fools’ and ‘Somebody Broke My Heart' are still fine, moving songs. They could write okay. GEORGE KAY HORACE PINKER Burn Tempe to the Ground (One Foot) It’s one thing not to like where you live — it’s another wanting to burn it to the ground. The Tempe which these guys think needs a good spot of arson is Tempe, Arizona — the town main Pinkers Scott Eastmen and Bill Ramsey shifted to soon after leaving college. As the story goes, they played one gig at their Californian school before being thrown out and hightailing it to Arizona. A couple of singles, the recruitment of bassist Bryan Jones, lots of gigging, and eventually the release of a debut album in 1994 followed.

Burn Tempe is Horace Pinker’s first record on Onefoot Records since they, signed with the label last year. This is a great piece of high energy punk rock that’ll rock your socks off for almost all of its 31 minutes. The songs are mostly of the fast paced sort — short, noisy and sweet, rarely pushing the three-minute danger level for any punk song. While their sound may lack a little variety, this is made up for in intensity and sheer excitement. You can hear their attitude and keenness in the sound. In a genre which had become tired even before it had really kicked off, Horace Pinker sound original and interesting. Burn Tempe is an excellent 30-minute rush of fresh sounding noise. DOMINIC WAGHORN FU MANCHU In Search 0f... (Mammoth) Fu Manchu will take you on a fantastic voyage in search 0f... the wide open plains of America where Marshall stacks are piled 20 feet high, bass bins boom and a long haired singer howls at the moon (and prairie animals) whilst wearing huge salvage denim flares. Fu Manchu fill the small niche market left vacant by the now dearly departed Kyuss and do it pretty well. If you haven’t heard of Kyuss they sound like Fu Manchu and vice versa. Fu Manchu provide big, loud music for people who enjoy big, loud music with rumbly. grumbly bits. It may help to be intoxicated whilst listening, or driving a large American car. If one is driving a large American car one should definitely not be drinking because... drunk driving costs lives. KEV LIST SUPER FURRY ANIMALS Fuzzy Logic (Sony) Well, they’re the Welsh Supergrass, aren’t they? Living in a past they’re too young to remember, conjuring up hyper-real glam fun monsters. You’ll get a feel from the opening track, ‘God! Show Me Magic’ — a stomping, glittery platform boot of a song, with space gun synth squeals and everything. And when you hit the big smiling glee of ‘Something for the Weekend’ (all together now... ‘First time I did it for the hell of it'), you realise their plan is to kidnap the Banana Splits and head for Mars. Songs about hamsters, ‘oh, oh, eh, eh' choruses, early Pink

Floydian freak-outs and a Welsh weather girl on the CD notes - are you getting the picture? And it’s not wacky novelty bollocks, there are great songs happening here. Even though they lose it a bit by the last third of the album, you’re already asking yourself questions like: ‘Because fish float to the surface when they die, does that mean they think gravity is upside down?’ Old Obi-Wan was in on the bizzo, I bet. ‘You’re ears can deceive you, don’t trust them, stretch out with your f eh hhlingsss.’ They’re the Goodies of rock and, like Supergrass, it’ll take a while for you lot to get into their mindset. But once you’re in, you’ll find pleasures aplenty. Easily album of the month. JOHN TAITE VARIOUS ARTISTS . - The Cable Guy Soundtrack . (Work) Jim Carrey promises to ‘juice you up’ at the beginning of this album, in the funniest spoken word insert, but fails to do so, and drastically when you have to listen to him covering Jefferson Airplane’s ‘Somebody to Love’ — I’m sure it’s really a visual thing. I only nabbed this album after hearing Porno for Pyros’ swingin’ little cover of Lou Reed’s ‘Satellite of Love’. It remains with me only for the grace of that song, and ruby’s ‘This Is’. An infinitesimally different version 'of Filter's ‘Hey Man, -Nice Shot’ is also here, but it’s a little less butt-kickin’ than the original, so it’d pay for you to stick with your well thrashed copy of Short Bus, if you know what’s good for ya.. Cracker’s ‘Get Out of My Head’ (‘or into my bed’) and Cypress Hill’s ‘The Last Assassin’ possess probably the only other vaguely chain-pulling power on here. There’s shitloads of the grunge included, but Silverchair and Jerry Cantrell are the only names I recognise — SIO,OOO Gold Chain?, Expanding Man? — and it’s plain to see why. BRONWYN TRUDGEON SCUD MOUNTAIN BOYS Massachusetts (Sub Pop) The first thing you notice about these boys is the way certain phrases pop out of the slow, dreamy, country tinged music — .'three bucks, my coat and some chemicals’, ‘it was Christmas outside’, ‘found a needle and a pipe by her side’, ‘I used to know

, her face broken on the window shield’ — that both updates and enlarges the ’ essentially folk-based arrangements. There are hardly any drums here, just slowly strummed acoustics and some strange and haunting material. Lead singer and songwriter Joe Pernice’s voice embodies the desolate, wintry Massachusetts landscapes he sings of wonderfully — think of Nebraska, but with irony and sans symbolism. Think of Willie Nelson, except the angels are just unlucky girls in car crashes. ‘l’m no stranger to the canvas,’ sings Pernice on ‘Glass Jaw’, which might be an easy boast in humility, but you know, it isn’t because of the way it’s put. As Pernice sings in a rare ./ upbeat moment — these boys from Scud Mountain come without, ‘a pristine bone in their body’. Perfectly, perfectly flawed. GREG FLEMING SCHEER Infliction < ' (4AD) Belfast bred five-piece Scheer may be outside the usual geographical scope of Boston label 4AD, but musically they fit in just fine. Like the 4AD acts before them (Throwing Muses, Breeders, Belly etc), Scheer mix their guitars with a high-level of no-shit female vocals courtesy of Audrey Gallagher. Pick up the album and the first reaction is shock; the cover consists entirely of a close-up of a freshly stitched up wound. Whether the. wound is selfinflicted isn’t disclosed, but it does set you up for the .ongoing trend of downright hideous pictures throughout the sleeve.

The music, by striking contrast, is pleasant, inviting and generally pretty enjoyable. Opening track ‘Shea’ is a brilliant piece of searing guitar pop, with screeching guitars and dirty' bass to burn, while the first single, ‘Wish You Were Dead’, is more of the same, but has a king-sized hook to boot. Then, on ‘Screaming’, Scheer go for some good time rock and roll. Scheer only falter on their quieter songs. ‘Babysize’ tries to display a delicate side to their sound, but instead just sounds like a filler. Scheer are best when they rock, and when they do, they are hard to beat. If this is Scheer’s idea of infliction, I say inflict away. DOMINIC WAGHORN THE SUGARPLASTIC Bang, the Earth is Round (Geffen) • We’ve had the 70s revival and we all know what came after the 70s, right? 1980, of course, in all its red-leather-trousered, thin-tied glory. Meet the Sugarplastic — America’s answer to

the new wave of new wave. On Bang, the Earth is Round, it’s evident head Sugarplastic guy Ben Eshbach has been taking his daily dose of quirk pills, and what’s more, he’s been washing them down with lashings of wacky mixture. However, Eshbach has kept his base level of pop sensibility, high and in so doing has infused a fair share of Bang, the Earth is Round’s tracks with a certain stop/start catchiness. But operations on planet Sugarplastic often tread a fine line between smart and smarmy, neat and nerdy. It ain’t easy being post-modern these days and the songs at times sound like an uncomfortable amalgam of Talking Heads, They Might be Giants, XTC and the Pixies. As far as mildly diverting, quirky pop goes, it’s not bad. For the Sugarplastic, a possible career as the Cars for the 90s beckons.

To hear a real master at work in this genre, beg, borrow, or steal a copy of the ultra-rare, highly illegal, but fantastically desirable set of recent home demos from XTC’s Andy Partridge. Now, I’m not advocating bootlegging, but one listen to these will make evident the gulf that exists between pretenders to' the throne, like the Sugarplastic, and the genuine article. MARTIN BELL THE NIXONS Forma (MCA) First things first, this album has nothing to do with famous kiwi rock legends the Nixons/Eye TV. Secondly, this album appears to have had very little to do with the bombing of Cambodia or the Watergate break in. Thirdly, and most importantly, is the fact Forma is an archival work of genius. Whereas most English bands are great scholars as well as snappy dressers (some are also musicians!), most American bands seem content to just do their own thing. The Nixons, however, have no desire to go down their own road, and have decided to take a leaf out of such British rock archaeologists’ books as Ocean Colour Scene’s and Oasis’ in reinventing rock’s past. Where the Nixons have shown plucky courage and foresight is in their choice of era to dredge up. With Forma the Nixons have plucked us from the settled obscurity of 96 and dragged us back to one of the golden years .of rock... 1992. Come, dig out your flannel shirt and Himalayan tribesman hat (nice and snug to keep your dreads toasty warm), swing your lighter round your head and... ‘Ohh, whisperin’ wind rolls around like fruit flies I Ohhh, we don’t know...’ KEV LIST

HARRY PUSSY What was Music? (Siltbreeze) This is a story where boy meets girl, they fall in love, get married, and get wads of cash for a wedding gift from the ever present benevolent uncle, who tells them to spend it wisely. Sound familiar? No, not really, but then they didn’t listen to Uncle Vito either, and used the dosh to record a single, then decided they were a band! Not your average opening salvo for any rock experience, but then Harry Pussy are far from ordinary. Their first recording was promptly ignored. Unwavering in their vision they persevered, released a second single, then an album, and became infinitely chic to drop into noisenik conversations. Championed by John Peel and Thurston Moore on respective sides of the Atlantic, and resting somewhere between our own Gate/Dead C and the Alice Bag Band (see Decline of Western Civilisation), you could compare them to a tsunami, banshees wailing from the crest, warning of the coming destruction — this is noise in its purest sense. Harry Pussy (no puns, please!) make the Happy Flowers sound like Perry Como, you have been warned! MAC HODGE PUNKTURE Punkture (One Foot) HI-STANDARD Growing Up (Fat Wreck Chords) Remember poonk rawk? Remember the early 80s Music World (purveyors of Vai Doonican treasures) poonk releases? Classics like Peter and the Test Tube Babies, Vice Squad, the Exploited, the Punk and Disorderly compilations? So do I, dammit! It was (confession time) a bleak period in my record collection’s history (apart from the P&D comp’s with Black Flag on ’em), and it was brought about by Daddy Music World’s offspring as an alternative mind rot for Aotearoa’s youth, replacing Twisted Sister and Bon Ralphie in the minds of a few. Onefoot is the 90s equivalent, brainchild of Mr Naxos’ child prodigy, bringing the mosh sounds of the world to the world so you can skate til your head Ollies in. Punkture are three just out of high school Melbourne teens, headed by bros Nick and Ben Tse who recently emigrated from their native Hong Kong in search of a drummer. The resulting 18 songs written and recorded in the last five months are posi-punk-skate blasts designed for the street,, not for your living room, very competent and well executed, but perhaps a second album will see them find their own stride.

Unlike Hi-Standard, who carve through a skate bowl in a very new school way. Billed as Pacific Rim punks and blasting their way across the States with NOFX, these three Tokyo hardcore meisters shred trucks through 14 very cool waxings. The vocals aren’t lamentable whinings like the balance wallowing in the muckhole of skate rock, and they’re not barked diatribes either, avoiding the speedcore cameras. All the thrills of the ride are here: speed, grace (in limited amounts), girls and a killer cover of the Bay City Rollers’ ‘Saturday Night’... ‘SI A! T! U! R! D... A... Y! Night!' HiStandard rock! MAC HODGE THE GOOPS Lucky (Warners) This month a lot of what I received to review seems to be caught in some weird cyclical shit. For instance, take a wee listen to. the Goops. If ever there was a Blondie clone, these guys are it, they’ve got the Parallel Lines ballads and rock numbers down pat. Eleanor Whitledge even has peroxide hair, and though I’m not sure whether Debbie

used to have a tattoo, it is the nineties and bodily mutilation is hip (not). Sometimes makes you wonder when all this rock regurgitation is gonna stop. Meanwhile the Goops and their ilk will continue to add their own natural gas to the mounting methane build up. MAC HODGE NORTHERN UPROAR Northern Uproar (Heavenly) There’s a moment on this album that sums the whole thing up. The guitar break on ‘From a Window’ tries to imitate a bit out of ‘Another Girl, Another Planet’ and, well, it doesn’t quite make it. Give them a couple of years and they’ll breeze through it, but by then they’ll have hit their 20s and be starting to worry about being proper musicians.

Northern Uproar are a sound bunch of lads living a dream. It may .be a dream about shagging lots of girls, drinking loads of lager and coming out of punch-ups unscathed — but it’s a dream all the same. What they lack in musical experience, they make up for in passion, and that’s better than listening to some boring self-conscious technicians any day. The singles are the highlights. ‘Rollercoaster’, ‘From a Window’ and ‘Living it Up’ have all got raging choruses that release that primal, teeth clenching urge to pogo. Newie ‘Towns’ is a vulnerable attempt at proving they’re not always gruff. The rest is all slightly under rehearsed rock from up north. Manic Street Preachers frontman James Dean Bradfield produced half of this — and he knows what he’s on about. Definitely up there with Ash for teenage hopefuls of the month. . ' ' JOHN TAITE MARK STEWART Control Data (Mute) Take Winston Peters and the Winebox loops, feed them masses of E and subliminal beats, and they’d probably turn into Mark Stewart disciples. Conspiracy theories meet Technoman. Stewart sings about as well as Gary Clail and my dog, so the beat and the atmosphere rule. Like Leftfield on a downer, apart from opening track ‘Dream Kitchen’, where the silkenvoiced Bim Sherman takes the mic’ and a monster hit is born.

‘Scorpio’ starts on a menacing beat and indulges in some grand sonic shuffling with more than an echo of Gary Clail (oh, those reference points). ‘Consumed’ is a standout, driven by a frantic beat, punctuated by an insistent guitar riff, and riddled with consumptive vocals, and ‘Data Blast’ is a great dirty wash of a dance beat. The album line-up drips with pedigree; co-produced by Adrian Sherwood and featuring the undoubted talents of Doug Wimbush and Skip McDonald. But the promise is often poisoned by some really dodgy keyboard samples. You’d think someone had excitedly plundered several Yes albums. Yeeech. ' MARK REVINGTON SEMISONIC Great Divide (MCA) Well, the name sums it up really; Semisonic are only part sonic, part interesting, and a pretty small part worth listening to. Great Divide is the first album from Semisonic, although the three members have been playing together under various monikers for about four years. As Trip Shakespeare, they played regularly in and around Minneapolis, the town that spawned both the Replacements and Husker Du — although it’s probably unfair to both those bands to mention them in the same sentence as Semisonic. If either of the town’s most famous acts had

any influence at all on Semisonic, it’s hard to find here.

Semisonic’s songs are nice enough, but in the cutthroat business of American-indie rock, nice just isn’t enough. Songs like ‘Down in Flames’ will have your foot tapping lightly, but that’s about the extent of it. Much hoorah is made of the ‘studio wizardry’ used on the album. They cfaim to be into playing around with production techniques and using electronic equipment to create part of their music, which makes you wonder where exactly they put these techniques to work. Apart from the faint traces of digital sounds way in the background of the odd track, it’s pretty much straight up rock and roll. Well, there’s always Supersonic, I guess. DOMINIC WAGHORN VELOCITY GIRL Gilded Stars and Zealous Hearts (Sub Pop) Velocity Girl seem singularly lacking in ambition, content as they are to create charming (but curiously old-fash-ioned sounding) songs, forged from pop music’s 10 commandments. To name but a few: Thou shalt have a catchy melody; Thou shalt use major chords and winsome vocal harmonies at least once per song; Thou shalt employ a chorus hook big enough to catch a whale. There’s nothing wrong with that, per se, and Gilded Stars and Zealous Hearts weighs in with a fair swag of great songs — the sort that give ‘powerpop’ a good name. Coupled with their fuzzed-out guitars (it’s the 90s, after all) and Seattle based label (although the band themselves hail from Washington DC), it’s easy to see why Velocity Girl were once tagged with the unfortunate label of ‘bubblegrunge’. If there’s a problem with Gilded Stars and Zealous Hearts, it’s that the songs are so relentlessly hummable and up beat that ultimately the album suffers from a lack of colour and variety. Velocity Girl, despite their daredevil name, take no chances here with different moods, pacing and instrumentation. But when safety sounds like this much fun, who’s gonna complain? MARTIN BELL

JAH STITCH Original Ragga Muffin (1975-77) (Blood and Fire/Chant) Heavy hypnotic roots stuff from the original raggamuffin, who first featured on the Blood and Fire catalogue with three tracks on If Deejay was Your Trade. Culled from Stitch’s singles of the time, produced mainly by Bunny Lee, this is a powerful, stark collection with an especially memorable track also featuring Horace Andy. Stitch shows himself a worthy successor to the likes of U Roy and Big Youth — righteous indeed! He’s evidently planning a return to the stage this year. In the meantime, listen up to the original raggamuffin and let the power sweep you away. MARK REVINGTON RACHEL’S Music For Egon Schiele (Quarterstick) For those art illiterates amongst our readers, Egon Schiele was considered a pornographer by some of his fellow Austrian citizens (obviously they weren’t art lovers!) This theatre/dance soundtrack traces the life of Gustav Klimt’s buddy through 12 beautifully easy pieces, from his birth on the banks of the Danube to his death in Vienna a short 28 years later (he died three days after his pregnant wife, both victims of the 1918 global influenza epidemic). Judging by the uniquely attractive packaging a lot of TLC was put into this classically inclined project. This, their second album (after 1991 ’s Rachel’s Halo), is (apparently for the Rachel’s) a stripped down trio of . piano, cello and viola, which inci-

dentally caresses the ear with a pleasing, Sunday morning National Program groove (if there is such an animal.) A healthy rock enema, if you feel so inclined. MAC HODGE ROLLERSKATE SKINNY Horsedrawn Wishes (Warners) A piece of pie goes to those who know what book the character Rollerskate Skinny comes from. As for where the band Rollerskate Skinny comes from, the core three members got together in Dublin about four years ago, before moving to London to ‘get serious’. A year in the making, Horsedrawn Wishes is their second album, but the first since signing to Warner Brothers. It’s an interesting bunch of songs which includes much experimentation in sound while keeping to a standard rock formula. There’s a heap of nicely produced distortion and various synthesised sounds, which make the album an attractive first listen, but beyond this it’s hard to get excited. This is best seen on ‘Speed to My Side’, which shows how good well controlled distortion can sound. Other times (like on opening track ‘Swingboat Yawning’) these tricks sound interesting but fail to add anything to the basic effect of the sound. It’s good songs which carry an album, and no matter how many exciting bells and whistles there may be, without a good hook it ain’t worth jack. And the answer to the trivia question? Rollerskate Skinny was a minor character in Catcher in the Rye. I didn’t know either. DOMINIC WAGHORN FITZ OF DEPRESSION Swing (K) When you flick the CD case over to look at the back and see a band with laundry bags over their heads, you start to wonder if the music is gonna match the name and image. Thankfully what FDD excel at isn’t institutionalised schizo skronk, but first grade, high octane punk rock. Only on ‘She Wants to Know’, halfway through Swing, does the lead foot ease off the pedal, revealing a less rock orientated Urge Overkill. Otherwise this trio rocking out of Olympia, Washington, (since 1988, and yes, they’re on K — see Halo Benders/Dub Narcotic reviews elsewhere) are classic good-time punks. There’s Radio Birdman (‘We Three’), Tesco Vee and his Meat Crew (‘My Good Men’) and DOA (‘No Movie Tonight’), while the Dwarves, Crime and Big Boys all spring repeatedly to mind. Produced by Mr Sub Pop, Jack Endino, Fitz of Depression are no punk rock poseurs and they have a ferocious live reputation to prove it. As their recent overseas press says, ‘when you’re a punk, you’re a punk all the way.’

MAC HODGE