Old Geeks, New Records

BLACK FLAG
What the...
[SST-2013]

BOSTON
Life, Love & Hope
[Frontiers-2013]

The question of relevance, when it comes to a veteran rock outfit is, no doubt, a thorny proposition to ponder. But it comes into sharp focus when said act has been out of the public eye for years, or even decades. One thing is certain, tho: whatever argument in favor of a return is certainly hindered if there really isn’t an audience anticipating the artist’s most recent offerings.

As opposed to the return of The Pixies and My Bloody Valentine—the former getting a tad burned by the recent release of an EP of new material, which follows a sold out reunion tour and subsequent, enthusiastically recieved live jaunts; the latter releasing their first album in 22 years to much praise—seminal hardcore band Black Flag and ‘70s AOR stalwarts Boston—polar opposites if ever, despite their respective leaders being tech geeks who didn’t see a place for themselves in the mid ‘70s rock and roll landscape—have endured much in the way of discord and indifference, respectively, of late.

Black Flag’s first album of new material in 28 years seems to exist in a sort of nebulous area: although not a return to form, it's definitely not an embarrassment a la The Weirdness (c’mon, Iggy!) but not exactly vital, either. It doesn’t suck and Black Flag fans should not avoid it, is probably the most accurate if not entirely charitable synopsis. (Vocalist Ron Reyes does kick ass throughout the proceedings.)

Longtime Boston vocalist Brad Delp committed suicide in March of 2007. Aside from guitarist Tom Scholz’s layered guitar sound Delp was the band’s single most identifiable sonic asset, and some might argue its best. Unfortunately, his posthumous appearance on Life, Love & Hope is wasted on tepid, badly produced material that would’ve sounded dated 20 years ago and could only be of interest to Boston completists.

Eventually, even the most talented of athletes have to retire, their bodies no longer responding to the challenges of their chosen profession. Musicians don’t have that obstacle but sometimes, as Boston’s new album particularly proves, it might be a good thing if they had some sort of equivalent. 

Kinder, Gentler Rogue Policeman

ANDY SUMMERS
Mysterious Barricades
[Private Music-1988]

Whether he was pursuing a variety of musical tangents out of artistic restlessness or found himself adrift after the breakup of the Police and tried the ‘let’s see what sticks’ approach, Summers’ solo output over the last 30 years has wandered from pop-rock, avant-garde guitar duets with Robert Fripp, new age, modern jazz, Brazilian classics and back to pop-rock again.

But his first time out as a solo instrumentalist, Summers went down a new age road, going as far as signing with Private Music, a label founded by Peter Baumann of Tangerine Dream, and one of the subgenre’s premiere record companies. Mysterious Barricades bears some similarities to Summers’ first collaboration with Fripp, I Advance Masked [A&M-1982]—particularly on “Shining Sea” and “Emperor’s Last Straw”—but from the moment the gentle, peaceful guitars and synths of lead-off track “Red Balloons” make their presence felt, it’s clear this is a less angular, more relaxing endeavor than those alongside the legendary King Crimson guitarist.

Definitely a late night record and an ideal soundtrack to surrendering to Morpheus; and yes, that was a compliment.

Highlights: the aforementioned “Red Balloon”, “Shining Sea” and “Emperor’s Last Straw”; "The Lost Marbles", and the title track.

We Need More Ambitious Lovers

With a staggering resumé well-known to those versed in New York’s downtown music scene of the ‘70s and ‘80s—which includes DNA, The Golden Palominos, and The Lounge Lizards—“skronk” guitarist Arto Lindsay formed Ambitious Lovers with keyboardist and long-time collaborator Peter Scherer in the mid ‘80s. 

Although much more pop and radio-friendly than anything in Lindsay’s past, the Lovers’ hybrid of funk, new wave and Brazilian music (Lindsay often sang in Portuguese) never took off with mainstream audiences despite being under the auspices a major label. And, sadly, the band’s plan to name each album after the seven deadly sins stalled at three—Envy [Virgin-1984], Greed [Virgin-1988] and Lust [Elektra-1991]—with the Lovers' breakup. 

In keeping with their origins, Ambitious Lovers often featured fellow New York-based musicians Joey Baron, Bill Frisell, Melvin Gibbs, Vernon Reid, Marc Ribot and Nile Rogers, among others. These days, Lindsay maintains an active career as a solo artist, collaborator, producer (particularly in Brazil: Carlinhos Brown, Adriana Calcanhotto, Vinicius Cantuária, Gal Costa, Marisa Monte, Caetano Veloso, and Tom Zé are some of the artists he's produced) and often working with Scherer on various projects.

This particular tune, "It Only Has To Happen Once", is an old favorite from the Greed album. 

It Meant a Lot

KEITH RICHARDS
Talk is Cheap
[Virgin-1988]

After refraining from going on the road for Undercover [Rolling Stones/Columbia-1984] The Stones decided to also not tour behind Dirty Work [Rolling Stones/Columbia-1986], exacerbating the growing rift between Mick and Keith, the former investing much of his time in a burgeoning solo career, of which She’s The Boss [Columbia-1985] was the first salvo. Meanwhile, Jagger had not played guitar on Dirty Work—first time that had not happened since Sticky Fingers [Rolling Stones/Atlantic-1971]; various drummers filled in for Charlie Watts on the album, since he was badly addicted to heroin and alcohol at the time (which was Jagger’s reason to veto a tour in support of the album); and long-time road manager and occasional keyboardist Ian Stewart passed away shortly after Dirty Work was completed. In other words, the Stones were in shambles. So, Keef ended up doing the one thing he’d no interest in ever doing: going solo himself. 

Assisted by multi-instrumentalist/producer Steve Jordan—who’d played drums on Dirty Work and been the drummer in the band Keef put together for the Chuck Berry tribute Hail! Hail! Rock and Roll!—Keef wrote some songs, put together a band called The X-pensive Winos (Waddy Wachtel--guitar, Ivan Neville--keyboards, Charley Drayton--bass and Jordan on drums), signed a deal with Virgin Records and released his solo debut, Talk is Cheap, in early October of 1988. 

Top 25 in the UK, Top 40 in the US, Talk is Cheap got positive reviews and was jokingly referred to as the best Stones record in a while. But the record itself was no joke: among the highlights, leadoff single “Take it So Hard” was classic Keef; “Make No Mistake” a tasty soul ballad; and “How I Wish” is quintessential latter-day Stones at their best. Maybe it was for the best that Mick and Keith went their separate ways for a bit. Nah, strike that: it was for the best; no ifs, ands or buts.

From Genesis to Non Revelations

GENESIS
self-titled
[Atlantic-1983]

We tend to cover album milestones with a certain frequency here. Whether it’s an iconic album, a personal favorite, or both, we’re no strangers to commemorating the anniversaries of records that matter to us. This time we’re going to make an exception and focus on an album that does not meet the above criteria but is worthy of our analysis, nonetheless.

Generally speaking, self-titled albums tend to be debuts. And when they're not, there is a tendency to dig a bit deeper into this particular significance, often ascribing an artist defining, statement-of-purpose label to the decision behind not naming the release. And while there are surely instances of that to be found—'a scattered, sprawling and indulgent piece of work, by a lethargic, yet often brilliant quartet which no longer operates as a unit', seems to be the message behind the nomenclature of The Beatles’ self-titled release aka ‘The White Album’—more often than not, the self-titling of an album, deep into an artist’s career, has no real significance.

In this particular case, the decision to self-title was based on writing the songs as a unit, a valid yet uncommon reason for not naming an album, but then again, these gentlemen used to be bandmates with someone who had a very interesting take on all of this: Peter Gabriel decided his solo albums would all be self-titled; like issues of a magazine, he likened it to. Until his record company put a see thru sticker of his fourth and called it Security [Geffen-1982], Gabriel had managed a trifecta of self-titled albums. That he called his three following albums So [Geffen-1986], Us [Geffen-1992] and Up [Geffen-2002], respectively, probably says more than he wanted to let on about his views on naming albums, but we digress.

Gabriel’s influence pops up on Genesis in the form of leadoff track and first single “Mama”, which harkens back to Gabriel’s third album [Mercury-1980], on which Phil Collins played drums, and which later influenced his own “In the Air Tonight”. The band’s most successful UK single—which contains a maniacal laugh by Collins, inspired by Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five’s hip-hop classic “The Message”, making the song a doozy of a trivia game answer—"Mama" opens the album seemingly implying a more direct return to the band’s art rock roots. No dice.

“Mama” is a ruse; Genesis is the album that marks their official delving into the straight up pop music sweepstakes and the unforgivable “Illegal Alien” is part of that Faustian development. Yeah, towards the end of the album they take a stab at such prog-leaning, Duke [Atlantic-1980] and/or Abacab [Atlantic-1981] approved fare with “Silver Rainbow” and “It’s Gonna Get Better”, but by then the damage has been done.

Genesis is the last of the band’s transitional albums before they unofficially became The Phil Collins Show, which is oddly fitting for a self-titled album, but there you go.

Tribute or Rip-off: 10 Songs that Sound Like Someone Else

The recent Robin Thicke vs. the estate of Marvin Gaye debacle has left a bad taste with plenty of music fans and reminded plenty of folks of the blatant similarities—intentional or not—between numerous songs released over the years. With this list we’re not gonna concentrate on, say, two metal bands with individual songs that sound suspiciously alike or artists who’ve based their careers on sounding like another artist, but with artists aping the sound/style/vibe of another artist as a one-off and not plagiarizing an actual song. Here we go, in alphabetical order by artist:

1. AMERICA “Horse with No Name”

Man, did these guys get grief for allegedly ripping off Neil Young back when this song was released as their debut single in 1972. To add insult to injury, it replaced Young’s “Heart of Gold” atop the charts in the US. But America have never shunned from admitting the song was indeed inspired by Young, even though the backlash was quite harsh at the time. Pretty sure the royalties from this one—it’s their biggest single—helped ease that quite a bit, tho.

2. BEATLES “Two of Us”

Even a highly original act has influential sources they swear by. According to the late Ian MacDonad in his Beatles chronology Revolution in the Head, John and Paul spontaneously broke into the Everly Brothers’ “Bye Bye Love” after running thru this one in the studio.

  

3. BECK “Debra”

Mr. Hansen has disowned this one in recent years, but his sonic emulation of a certain purple monarch was reportedly the highlight of many of his late ‘90s set lists.

  

4. FOO FIGHTERS “Wheels”

He’s admitted to being a fan, played drums with him on SNL, and begrudgingly turned him down to join the Heartbreakers to start the Foos, so the fact that Dave Grohl wrote a song in the same vein as a Tom Petty tune should surprise no one.

5. JELLYFISH “Joining a Fanclub”

The late great San Francisco quartet recorded some classic yet distinctive power pop on their 1990 debut album. But their influences really came to the foreground the second time out, especially on this track, which would not be out of place on a mid-‘70s Queen album.

6. SIMPLE MINDS “Don’t You Forget About Me”

Back in 1985, EVERYONE thought this was Billy Idol when they first heard the song that broke Simple Minds in the US, courtesy of the John Hughes teen flick, The Breakfast Club. Truth be told, it was offered to Mr. Sneer first, who promptly turned it down.

7. THE STROKES “12:51”

Somebody reeeeeaaaaaaally likes that first Cars album, huh?

8. SUGAR “A Good Idea”

Even tho it’s still news to fans of both artists—even at this late date—it’s a fact that Bob Mould always envisioned what has become, arguably, the most popular track of his post-Hüsker Dü career to be a Pixies tribute. And not just the music and the arrangement, but the lyrics, too. Of course, Black Francis and co. were big Hüsker Dü fans, so this one brings it around full circle.

9. WEEN “Freedom of ‘76”

Did the boys from New Hope, PA pay tribute to Prince or the classic Philly ‘70s soul they both grew up with on this track? We’ll let you decide.

10. WILCO “Heavy Metal Drummer”

According to Ira Robbins’ Trouser Press Guide, "aping Pavement [on this song] is an amusing but worthless parlor trick”. Maybe. Cool tune, tho.

Like That Roberta Flack/Donny Hathaway Song

In our '00s recap we put together a list of bands who'd broken up during that decade, as well as a solo artist who'd retired. As of late 2013, a third of 'em have returned. (Although one of 'em was a one-off.) Which ones do you see coming back?

Ryan Adams *

Armor For Sleep

At the Drive-In ^

Audioslave

The Dismemberment Plan *

Ben Folds Five *

Freeloader

Guided by Voices *

The Mayfield Four

Ministry *

Oasis

Red House Painters

The Rollins Band

Run-DMC

12 Rods

Violent Femmes

XTC

Zwan

* reunited

^ one-off reunion

Never Had Anything to do with Kansas

TOTO

self-titled

[Columbia-1978]

This week was the 35th anniversary of the release of Toto's self-titled debut, which has always come across as the one piece of anti-schlock in the band's catalog, particularly during their commercial heyday. Well, nothing like revisiting an album decades later and having hindsight crush any possible positive re-encounter you may have had in mind. Weak prog flourishes, under-cooked yacht rock, and stylistically all over the place, the album is redeemed by one bonafide classic: "Hold the Line", which was inexplicably buried deep into Side 2 as Toto's penultimate track. Huh?

Toto hasn't aged badly production-wise, but its scattershot, lowest common denominator approach to songwriting--which, with one exception is all the work of keyboardist David Paich--is exactly what one would expect from a bunch of '70s session musicians accustomed to playing on a plethora of commercially successful records. Then it got bigger and worse. But that's a story for an other day.

Milk It

NIRVANA 

In Utero: 20th Anniversary Edition

[DGC-2013]

It’s a bittersweet irony that the 20^th anniversary edition of In Utero was released on another anniversary: that of its predecessor, the album which made Kurt Cobain a household name and In Utero was seemingly a reaction against. The latter meme has been bandied about for decades and a song itself (“Radio Friendly Unit Shifter”) has been cited as the torchbearer for Cobain’s disdain for Nevermind [DGC-1991]. But in the end the gambit backfired: In Utero has never eclipsed Nevermind in any way, shape or form, and despite being the final studio album by the most significant rock band of the ‘90s, it has largely receded to background status, barely eclipsing Bleach [Sub Pop-1989] in that regard. Its best songs remain powerful, yet rarely heard these days (“Serve the Servants”, “Heart Shaped Box”, the aforementioned “Radio Friendly Unit Shifter”) and its two most enduring tunes (“Pennyroyal Tea” and the sadly, beautiful “All Apologies”) live on in their stripped down versions from the band’s live MTV Unplugged album instead. Nirvana never did become The Jesus Lizard 2.0, either.

If there’s one thing accomplished by this expanded 20th anniversary edition—which includes the album’s original mix, a 2013 mix, and assorted b-sides, outtakes, demos—it’s to shine a light on how finely tuned a microscope there was on Nirvana at this point in the band’s career. The infamous original mixes by producer Steve Albini for singles “Heart Shaped Box” and “All Apologies” (which garnered so much animosity and controversy between the various factions involved, not to mention feeding the press’ obsessive appetite for all things Nirvana in the wake of Nevermind), are not that far off from Scott Litt’s later mixes. The Albini mix for  “All Apologies” has louder, slightly more nuanced guitars. That’s it.

As for the reissue itself, the main criteria from the fan P.O.V. remains the same for In Utero as any other: Do you love this album enough to repurchase it, along with the extras included in an expanded version? Nirvana’s studio epitaph probably deserves better than a blunt, plain invitation to your collection—the 2013 Albini mixes could be reason enough to re-evaluate In Utero, or at least judge it in a slightly different light—but if its creator’s intent was to alienate and distance ourselves from his last batch of songs, simply because we were partial to the ones which came right before it, we should, at the very least, contemplate honoring his last musical request.

Their Aim Is True

ELVIS COSTELLO & THE ROOTS

Wise Up Ghost

[Blue Note-2013]

As he pushes 60, it’s obvious to even the most casual of observers, punk’s literate Angry Young Man has mellowed considerably over the years. But Elvis Costello’s penchant for placing himself in different and sometimes disparate settings from his own has been a constant throughout his career: from the album of country covers Almost Blue [Columbia-1981] to his collaborations with The Brodsky String Quartet and Burt Bacharach, respectively, the former Declan McManus likes to mix it up, as it were.

And when you couple that with the rare music geek/musician combo that is Roots leader ?uestlove, and release your efforts on the legendary Blue Note label for that extra bit of hip cachet, this is the kind of joint venture that should’ve gone down ages ago, just for the marketing orgasm alone. But don’t believe the hype. Not most of it anyway.

Wise Up Ghost is the proverbial mix of chocolate and peanut butter making a valiant attempt at reaching for Reese’s Pieces glory and only intermittently getting there. (“Viceroy’s Row” might be the perfect distillation of their respective talents.) Both sides rise to the occasion for the most part, but it works best when Costello pushes The Roots closer to his corner, as opposed to the instances where he seems a bit lost, as if he recognizes the buildings but not the neighborhood.