Archive Review: Bill Neely’s Texas Law & Justice (2001)

One of the true overlooked treasures of American roots music, songwriter Bill Neely toiled away in obscurity for decades, performing a distinctive style of “hillbilly blues” that incorporates country, blues, and folk traditions in creating an entirely unique sound. The son of a Texas sharecropper, Neely came to music through the influence of his mother, a Nashville native who played guitar, piano and accordion. It was a meeting with the legendary Jimmie Rodgers, however, that sealed Neely’s fate. The famous “Blue Yodeler” taught the youngster how to make a C chord on the guitar, a story retold by Neely’s with his classic song “On A Blackland Farm.”

Bill Neely’s Texas Law & Justice

Quitting school at the tender age of fourteen, Neely wandered the country, riding the rails and making money where he could. He worked the mines and the fields, spent time in the Army during WWII and the Korean War, later working as a cook and as a carpenter. Twenty years later, Neely settled down in Texas with a family and a trade, writing songs based on his experience and travels. During the 1960s, he became part of Austin’s early music scene, playing in local clubs both solo and with folks like Janis Joplin, Tracy Nelson, and the great Mance Lipscomb. When Neely died in 1990 of leukemia at the age of 74, he had been playing guitar for 60 years and writing his own songs for over 40 years. Yet Neely only recorded one album, On A Blackland Farm, reissued here on CD with several “bonus” tracks as Texas Law & Justice.

All of this background on Neely is necessary to understand the man who crafted the honest and authentic music preserved on disc by Texas Law & Justice. While great country blues artists like Mississippi Fred McDowell and Lightnin’ Hopkins enjoyed significant careers late in life, Neely remained largely unknown during the same time period. Yet I can hear echoes of Neely’s distinctive guitar style and lyrical abilities in such Texas troubadours as Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark, acclaimed masters of the form. Songs like “A Soldier’s Thoughts” and “Crying the Blues Over You” are masterpieces of hillbilly blues, while the vivid imagery of “Skid Row” underlines an intelligent tale of rural innocence lost in the big city.

“Satan’s Burning Hell” is a gospel-tinged gem and “Blues On Ellem” is a Texas-style blues tune. “Never Left the Lone Star State” is a wonderful road trip through Neely’s memories while the two instrumentals included on Texas Law & Justice are inspired raves that showcase Neely’s not inconsiderable six-string skills. The one song here not written by Neely, but rather penned by a relative in 1930 – the haunting title cut “Texas Law And Justice” – is performed with great passion and energy and is all the more chilling considering the state’s dismal record of state-sanctioned executions.
    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Too raw and realistic by today’s country music standards, Bill Neely nevertheless wrote songs of enduring life and spirit, infusing them with humor and tempered by years of hard-won experience. Artistically, I’d rank Neely as the equivalent of great bluesmen like Mississippi John Hurt and Big Bill Broonzy. That Neely’s talents remain a secret is an artistic crime, one that might be remedied by the CD release of Texas Law & Justice. With a sound that would appeal to fans of both country blues and alt-country music, Bill Neely is ripe for rediscovery. (Arhoolie Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Peter Green Splinter Group’s Time Traders (2001)

Eric Clapton is considered by the unwashed masses both in the U.S. and the U.K. to be the greatest British blues guitarist to ever ply his trade in the public eye. I won’t go into the reasons why this is a misguided perspective, instead I’ll offer up alternative candidates like Gary Moore, Mick Taylor, or Kim Simmonds of Savoy Brown (blooze-rock great Rory Gallagher is disqualified from this contest ‘cause he was Irish, not British).

One name that is inevitably linked to Clapton’s, tarnishing his accomplishments, is that of Peter Green, the great guitarist and Clapton’s artistic shadow. Both Green and Clapton made their bones at roughly the same time, Green replacing old “Slowhand” in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers when the popular guitar god left to form Cream. Green found greater fame and fortune after founding Fleetwood Mac in 1967 with John McVie and Mick Fleetwood, the earliest incarnation of that band a blues powerhouse that opened the door for later blooze-rock punters like Savoy Brown, Ten Years After and Foghat.

Peter Green Splinter Group’s Time Traders

By 1970, psychedelic drugs and constant touring had ravaged Green’s mind, the guitarist quitting Fleetwood Mac to pursue religion, poverty, and anonymity. Clapton’s own struggle with heroin would result in one recorded masterpiece – the classic Layla album – before the “clean and sober” legend ran out of steam. Green lived like a hermit for much of the 1970s and ‘80s, later emerging with guitar in hand during the mid-‘90s to jump-start a career derailed by drugs and mental illness. Clapton spent the same time period embarrassing himself by releasing album after lukewarm album. For better than 25 years now, Clapton has been trading on his efforts during the ‘60s, showing glimpses of his former glory only when challenged in the studio by strong axemen like Duane Allman, Robert Cray, or B.B. King.    

We’ll never know what might have happened if Peter Green had remained a distinctive creative force during the 1970s and onward. By mid-decade, the blues had fallen out of favor with fans in the face of the punk onslaught, only to be rediscovered with the popularity of artists like the Fabulous Thunderbirds and Stevie Ray Vaughan in the 1980s. Maybe Green would have released feeble pop albums like his better-known contemporary, but after listening to Time Traders, I have my doubts. Greenie is a bluesman at heart, and on this sixth album of his extended comeback, capably assisted by his friends Splinter Group, Green makes a strong case for his own place in the rock ‘n’ roll history books.

Chicago Blues By Way of London

A better album, in my mind, than last year’s platinum-selling Clapton/B.B. King collaboration Riding With The King, Green’s Time Traders offers up a healthy dose of Chicago blues-by-way-of-London. Heavily influenced by bluesmen like Otis Rush and Muddy Waters and guitarists like B.B. King and Freddie King, Green brings a unique perspective to the legacy of these artists, throwing in elements of British jazz and big band dance sounds to the guitar-driven blues practiced by his idols. A lot of the credit for Green’s recreation can be given to Splinter Group guitarist Nigel Watson and keyboardist Roger Cotton, both of whom write the songs and coax wonderful six-string performances out of the reticent six-string wizard Green.

Time Traders is a wonderfully eclectic collection, carefully blending traditionally-oriented blues material like the mournful “Feeling Good” and “Time Keeps Slipping Away” with R&B-tinged material like the soulful “Real World” and the funky “Until the Well Runs Dry.” African rhythms permeate the upbeat “Wild Dogs” while a heavy, throbbing bass line underlines the somber, hypnotic “Uganda Woman.” Former Green acolyte Snowy White pitches in on a revisiting of Fleetwood Mac’s instrumental “Underway.” Green’s vocals across the album are appropriately world-weary, but his instrumental contributions ring clear as a bell, melding tone and texture to create breathtaking guitar passages that are refreshingly original. Watson’s six-string rhythms are rock steady, his vocals more expressive than Green’s but oddly similar in sound and intonation. Splinter Group’s rhythm section is tight in a way that only chemistry can explain, the group building a magnificent wall of sound upon with vocals and guitar are embroidered.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Time Traders is an inspiring collection of songs, a powerful showcase for Green’s talents and a hint of what might have been had Green pursued music during those “lost” years. He may not enjoy the name recognition or commercial endorsements of his colleague Clapton, but a strong argument can be made for Green’s inclusion among the giants of blues guitar. (Blue Storm Music, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

 

Archive Review: The Fabulous Thunderbirds’ Live (2001)

An institution among American blues-rockers, the Fabulous Thunderbirds have undergone a number of changes during a quarter-century long career, not all of them positive or encouraging. With the release of this energetic live album, however, Kim Wilson and his blues posse seem to be back on track with a high-octane “greatest hits” set that revisits old T-Birds classics as well as outlines a potential roadmap for the band’s future.

Live was recorded at a special event in February 2000, a private party of 200 friends and fans on hand to hear the band make history with their “This Night In L.A.” internet broadcast. The show was captured as one of the first high-resolution multi-track recordings made of a live performance, and the quality shows in the CD version offered on Live (the show is also available on DVD). The material chosen by the Thunderbirds for this broadcast includes the usual mix of guitar-driven Texas blues and soul-infused R&B tunes. The band throws out inspired covers like the rollicking “My Babe” and the potent “The Things I Used To Do” alongside choice originals such as the hit “Tuff Enough” and “I Believe I’m In Love.” Wilson’s baritone vocals always hit the mark and guitarist “Kid” Ramos stands tall with stellar leads that evoke memories of his predecessors Jimmie Vaughan and Duke Robillard while retaining an original character and identity.

Live is an infectious collection of songs, a 90-mph romp across the blooze-rock landscape that will leave the listener breathless and thirsting for more. The Fabulous Thunderbirds have long been a favorite on the performance circuit, their reputation built on muscular, dynamic live sets and bandleader Wilson’s soulful selection of material. The Live CD lives up to and furthers the T-Birds’ reputation as one of the best bands you’ll ever see perform onstage. (CMC International, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Dead Kennedys’ Mutiny On the Bay (2001)

The Dead Kennedys never released a live album during their brief yet notorious career as America’s favorite hardcore bad boys. The legendary punk outfit’s incendiary live performances have nevertheless been well represented by a handful of bootleg albums and videos, the best of which is probably Jello’s Revenge (Armed Response Records), culled from San Francisco club shows in 1979 and 1985. Mutiny On the Bay is the first “authorized” DK live disc, part of Manifesto’s reissuing of the Dead Kennedys’ catalog under the aegis of band members East Bay Ray, D.H. Peligro, and Klaus Flouride and against the wishes of vocalist/songwriter Jello Biafra, who has disavowed the reissues.  

Dead Kennedys’ Mutiny On the Bay

Mutiny On the Bay presents not a single entire performance but rather pieces of four different shows that date from 1982 and 1986. The original soundboard tapes have been digitally remastered but manage to retain a fair degree of their original energy and grunge. I hate to disagree with my old buddy Jello, who has publicly dissed Mutiny On the Bay, but this is a hell of a collection. A veritable “who’s who” of DK’s greatest hits, this fourteen song set offers those of us who never got to witness the band live a taste of what bootleg videos only hinted at.

Almost all the great DK songs are here, from “Police Truck” and “Kill the Poor” to “Hell Nation” and “MTV – Get Off the Air.” The energy in these tracks is undeniable; Biafra’s warbling, operatic vocals jumping out of the speakers above East Bay Ray’s slashing six-string work. One of the band’s signature songs, “Holiday In Cambodia,” offers some fiery fretwork courtesy of East Bay Ray while the Flouride/Peligro rhythmic assault that opens “California Uber Alles” provides powerful punctuation to Biafra’s angry vocals. The production seamlessly stitches together the performances; often tying songs together with Biafra’s onstage comments and smoothing out the rough edges so that the entire collection sounds like one lengthy performance. Perhaps some of the spontaneity is lost in this digital translation, but the quality of these performances shine through nonetheless and there is plenty of feedback and stage noise present for the purist.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

There are some good Dead Kennedys’ bootlegs still circulating around in trading circles, but Mutiny On The Bay puts most, if not all of them to shame. If all you know of the Dead Kennedys is their reputation, then Mutiny On The Bay, coupled with the band’s incredible debut, Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables, are perfect introductions to the band’s legacy. Let’s hope that Manifesto has some other live material of this quality stashed away in the vault for future release. The Dead Kennedys were one of the most influential hardcore punk bands of the 1980s; their importance based on live performances like those captured by Mutiny On The Bay. Let’s hear some more! (Manifesto Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Mad For The Racket’s The Racketeers (2001)

Wayne Kramer is a survivor in every sense of the word. From the legendary MC5 in the 1960s through collaborations with Mick Farren (The Deviants), Deniz Tek (Radio Birdman), and Johnny Thunders in the 1980s and ‘90s to Mad For The Racket, his new project, Kramer has enjoyed a lengthy and impressive music career. If most of his almost forty years in the biz seem to have been spent at odds with the establishment, that’s their problem, not his. As Kramer enters his fifth decade as an artist and musician, he does so with a new CD, a new label, and some old friends.

Mad For The Racket’s The Racketeers

Primarily a collaboration between Kramer and former Damned/Lords of the New Church axeman Brian James, Mad For The Racket also includes the instrumental contributions of Blondie drummer Clem Burke and former Guns ‘N’ Roses bassist Duff McKagan. Stewart Copeland sits behind the kit for a song or two, as does longtime Kramer drummer Brock Avery. The Racketeers is a guitar showcase, however, and in spite of the impressive credentials of the various rhythm-makers, it is the slash-and-burn dueling six-strings of Kramer and James that dominate the proceedings. Swapping red-hot riffs and vocal duties, much like Kramer did with Tek on the excellent Dodge Main CD, the two guitarists are similar enough stylists to make these songs work. They differ enough in their approach, however, that they manage to create some live-wire tension in the grooves.

Wayne Kramer/MC5

The sound cranked out by Mad For The Racket is standard hardcore roots rock, filled with razor-sharp ribbons of six-string work, thundering rhythms, and old school punk attitude. The material here is not that dissimilar from that which Kramer kicked out on a trio of studio albums for Epitaph, overlooked classics that showcased his vastly underrated guitar style and ever-maturing songwriting skills. On The Racketeers, Kramer and James share the songwriting duties, sometimes resulting in a dud like the heavy-handed “Prisoner of Hope,” with Kramer’s over-the-top vocal histrionics mangling hackneyed lyrics. Kramer has done better on his own with similarly themed material. More often than not, however, the pair has created winners like the dark, disturbing “Tell A Lie,” the seedy “Czar of Poisonville” or the blazing “Chewed Down To the Bone.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Kramer’s vocals are always adequate, unique, and easily identifiable, flawed but forceful. James’ pipes are weaker but meet the challenge of the material, sometimes sounding like former bandmate Stiv Bators; other times – as on the lively “I Want It” – James sounds like a young Iggy Pop. Both play the guitar like maniacs, loco mosquitoes hell-bent on tearing down the walls with the sound of their axes alone. Together, the two grizzled rock ‘n’ roll veterans have created an entertaining and hard-rocking collection of songs, an album that showcases their strengths and furthers their already considerable legacies. The Racketeers is the sound of punk rock entering middle age, and for Wayne Kramer and Brian James, they refuse to go quietly into that good night. (MuscleTone Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Peter Tosh’s Live & Dangerous Boston 1976 (2001)

When the reggae is mentioned to the casual fan, the first name that comes to mind is Bob Marley. If the person is really into the “island riddims,” then they might throw names like Jimmy Cliff or Steel Pulse at you. An original member of the Wailers with Marley, Peter Tosh is the ultimate reggae cult artist – popular enough to attract new fans to his music years after his death, but too hardcore and edgy to appeal to a mainstream audience. Whereas Marley softened his songs of struggle and liberation with a healthy dose of melody and “peace and love” styled lyrics, Tosh was raw, politically outspoken, and brutally honest, sort of the “punk rocker” of Jamaican reggae.

Peter Tosh’s Live & Dangerous Boston 1976

To many of his fans, Tosh’s uncompromising stance and undistilled sound were part of the artist’s charm, and his albums from the ‘70s – classics like Equal Rights and Legalize It – stand up well to repeated listening today. Unlike his former bandmate Marley, Tosh’s musical catalog has remained fairly static, which makes the release of Live & Dangerous Boston 1976 a treat for the longtime fan. For his first American tour, in support of his debut album, Tosh assembled a band that included both Jamaican and American musicians, and which he subsequently dubbed “Word, Sound and Power.” Beginning with bassist Robbie Shakespeare and drummer Sly Dunbar, the greatest reggae rhythm pairing that the genre has ever seen, Tosh added the lead guitars of New Jersey native Al Anderson and bluesman Donald Kinsey. Twin keyboards were provided by Earl “Wire” Lindo and Errol “Tarzan” Nelson, with vocals and rhythm guitar from Tosh, and thus the stage was set for as dynamic a reggae band as you could ever ask for.

Live & Dangerous Boston 1976, taken from a November performance in nearby college-town Cambridge, is more-or-less typical Tosh. One of the most outwardly political of the Rasta artists, Tosh was a strong lyricist who wrote of the struggle of the poor and dispossessed against the police, the government and the corporations that oppressed them. You’ll find a healthy dose of political content here; songs like “400 Years,” “Babylon Queendom” and “Mark of The Beast” among some of the best that Tosh has written. There are some laid-back performances as well, songs like “Burial” or “Ketchy Shuby” featuring mellow Rasta grooves matched by winsome vocals heavy with island patois, and there are the usual spiritual numbers like “Igziabeher (Let Jah Be Praised).” The band is phenomenal, tight as the proverbial drum, providing the proper backdrop for Tosh’s charismatic and electric performances.
    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Peter Tosh’s Live & Dangerous Boston 1976 is a fine documentation of a night’s performance by one of reggae’s most important artists. One minor cavil must be expressed, however – the eleven songs presented here time out at seventy-five minutes and change, but only seem to scratch the surface of the night recalled by former Tosh manager Herbie Miller’s liner notes. Where are the performances of “Legalize It” or “Apartheid,” important songs from the Tosh canon and both from the album he was touring to promote? Perhaps a double-CD set clocked at 90 minutes might have served Tosh fans better? This oversight would gladly be overlooked if Legacy digs up, and releases some other vintage Tosh performances from their vaults. (Legacy Recordings, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Corporate Avenger’s Freedom Is A State of Mind (2001)

With the departure of Zach de la Rocha from Rage Against the Machine, the other members of the band are left merely whimpering at the machine while other outfits steal the thundering sound they made their bones with. Although the musical landscape is littered with the corpses of a thousand and one metal-tinged hip-hop Rage wannabes (Fred Durst, your 15 minutes are up buddy…), the band’s social consciousness and politikal rage lives on in Corporate Avenger. With the explosive Freedom Is A State of Mind, Corporate Avenger lyrically tackle the gamut of social issues, matching their incendiary lyrics with muscular riffs, ringing chords and blistering rhythms.

Corporate Avenger’s Freedom Is A State of Mind

Fueled by the powerful twin lead vocals of the Corporate Avenger (Spike Xavier) and Adawee the Wind, Corporate Avenger is a conceptual band, mixing radikal politics with extreme performance art and musical chops that include elements of heavy metal, hard rock, rap, and punk. I hear strains of Black Flag, Govt. Issue, and Public Enemy in these grooves, the music created by Mike Kumagai and producer Daddy X from the Kottonmouth Kings. Like no band since Public Enemy, Corporate Avenger blazes new trails, creating a sound that is both familiar and totally unlike any band that you’ve heard before. Raucous and obnoxious, Corporate Avenger throws caution to the wind with wailing guitars, lightning-quick turntable scratching courtesy of DJ Hall of Records, anarchistic samples, big beats, and monster rhythms.

It’s the band’s lyrics that capture the imagination, though; perhaps the most controversial anti-capitalist screeds ever committed to a musical treatment. Although a major label deal allowed Rage Against the Machine to bring the band’s radikal worldview to a mainstream audience, there was always an uneasy vibe around their act, a feeling that they might have watered down the message to slip it past their corporate masters. There’s no such feeling with Corporate Avenger – this is the real shit, as hardcore as a Molotov cocktail and as dangerous as a rabid Doberman. Freedom Is A State of Mind leaves no sacred cow unslaughtered, bludgeoning the listener with sound and imagery that preaches an undeniable message of tribal brotherhood even while it damns the system that keeps people poor, confused, and uneducated.

An Alternative History Lesson

The songs on Freedom Is A State of Mind are intelligent, well researched, and articulate. The band doesn’t merely mouth leftist platitudes, but explain the reason for their perspective with their lyrics. Whether singing about the oppression of the Native American (“Christians Murdered Indians” “$20 Bill”), the corrupt nature of organized religion (“The Bible Is Bullshit”) or the social injustice and racial implications of the “war on drugs” (“FBI File”), their lyrics are consistently challenging and though-provoking. Sometimes they seem to purposely piss people off, like with “Jesus Christ Homosexual” which asks if the so-called savior might have been a homosexual. By mixing two mythological Christian icons (Jesus and the degenerate homo) in one song, Corporate Avenger manages to bait the fundamentalist Christian right while providing food for thought for the rest of us.  

Every track here is like an alternative history lesson as given by Noam Chomsky or Howard Zinn, Corporate Avenger cramming more academic information into a four-minute rock song than many young listeners walk away with after four years of college. As the band states in the liner notes to Freedom Is A State Of Mind, “the songs are written in the language that we speak every day, it is not intended to be offensive. While this message is for everyone, this record may not be.” The controversy surrounding the band has led hypocritical Christian groups like the Promise Keepers and the American Family Organization to work towards pressuring retailers to keep the CD out of their stores. The band currently receives 10 to 20 death threats each week, no doubt from these “good Christians,” and several cable networks, including MTV and Comedy Central have refused to air advertising for the album.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Although Corporate Avenger is making the right enemies, their message deserves to be heard. Critics usually dismiss politikal rock bands out-of-hand, stating that music and politics don’t mix and lyrics don’t influence anybody, anyway. I strongly disagree with this perspective. Freedom Is A State of Mind is a turning point for rock music, a revival of social consciousness after too many years of mindless pop bullshit and corporate-crafted “modern rock.” With Freedom Is A State of Mind, Corporate Avenger is providing a soundtrack for the new millennium, one that is aggressively pro-human being and anti-government and anti-corporation. This is music to riot by and this is one critic who is ready to throw the first stone. (Koch Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine 

 

Archive Review: Perry Ferrell’s Song To Be Sung (2001)

Regardless of his alt-rock pedigree, this humble scribe has never thought much of former Jane’s Addiction/Porno For Pyros frontman Perry Ferrell. He possesses a powerful and expressive voice and, aided and abetted by guitarist Dave Navarro, managed to create a unique sound with Jane’s Addiction that would influence a generation of bands. In an attempt to always be the smartest kid in class, Ferrell managed to people his songs with the worst sort of pretentious lyrical garbage that his unfettered id could put on paper. Song Yet To Be Sung is no different, really, Ferrell merely providing his new age English lit lyrics with a different underlying soundscape. It is this music that makes Song Yet To Be Sung work as an album, however, Ferrell’s delusions of poetic grandeur notwithstanding.

Blending alt-rock riffs with Worldbeat rhythms and a heavy dose of technologically-assisted electronica, Ferrell has created a lush musical structure on which to layer endless guitars, drums, and keyboards. Ferrell’s voice is simply mesmerizing on songs like “Happy Birthday Jubilee” or “Say Something,” soaring through the mix while musical contributors like Dave Navarro, Ray McVeigh, Krish Sharma, and Brendan Hawkins lay down a rhythmic, trance-like groove. Sort of like an advertising jingle that gets stuck in your mind, Song Yet To Be Sung is contagious, a guilty pleasure that you have to give in to. Although Perry Ferrell is still up to his old tricks while he continues to search for the perfect beat, Song Yet To Be Sung is a welcome musical oasis along his journey. (Virgin Records, released July 16th, 2001)
 
Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: The Strokes’ Is This It (2001)

New York City rockers the Strokes have been on the receiving end of massive bloato-hype, mostly from the British music press. Proclaimed the saviors of rock ‘n’ roll, the overabundance of critical enthusiasm directed towards the Strokes is understandable. In a world populated with pop pap and watered-down “modern” rock, old-school rockers such as myself (and, presumably, rockcrits at NME, Mojo, and Q) thirst for the real thing. Luckily, the band’s much anticipated debut lives up to almost every promise made for the Strokes.

The Strokes’ Is This It

Roaring out of the “Big Apple” with a slack-rock sound that is firmly based in the garage band vibe of the 1960s and ‘70s-styled D.I.Y. punk fervor, the Strokes are a revelation. Vocalist Julian Casablancas sounds like a youthful Lou Reed and affects an on-stage wardrobe that mimics a young Bryan Ferry. Guitarists Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond Jr. keep a steady flame burning throughout the songs with ever-present riffs that result in a virtual wall-of-sound. A strong rhythm section of bassist Nikolai Fraiture and Fab Moretti build a solid bottom line; together the instrumentalists create a fat, dense and sometimes chaotic signature beneath Casablancas’ vocals. Kudos are also due to producer Gordon Raphael, whose subtle hand captured the band at its grungy best, warts and all. No Pro Tools manipulation here – Raphael leaves the sound muddy and noisy, the vocals often struggling above the mix and the entire affair wheezing and rattling like my aging ’74 Mercury four-door.

“What about the music,” you ask? Think of the Replacements minus Westerburg’s melancholy, the Velvet Underground with Ron Asheton on guitar, and Brill Building pop filtered through the New York Dolls and you’ll come near hitting the mark. I don’t understand half of what Casablancas is singing about, but when you can make out his lyrics, you’re overwhelmed by the verbal gymnastics and clever wordplay. The material on Is This It rocks without qualification. An irregular rhythm kicks off “The Modern Age,” a New Values-era Iggy soundalike with a wire-taut guitar lead and driving instrumentation. “Barely Legal” has a nifty circular riff and muddy, echoed vocals and bittersweet lyrics while “Someday” has some ultra-cool doo-wop rhythms and pleading vocals. “New York City Cops” offers some tongue-in-cheek humor about New York’s finest, a story-song with a raging chorus and wickedly delicious rhythms.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

In the wake of September 11th tragedy, RCA pulled the original recorded version of Is This It and substituted in the place of the stronger “New York City Cops” lest listeners feel that the band was overly-critical of the N.Y.P.D. They also replaced the more attractive cover artwork available on the British import in favor of a psychedelic swirl cover for the U.S. market. The music stands on its own regardless of these feeble marketing ploys, and there are still plenty of copies of the import disc to be found (and well worth getting even if for the one song). In the tradition of other cult-rockers like the Dictators, the Flamin’ Groovies or the New York Dolls, the Strokes draw inspiration from the primal wellspring of sound and energy from which classic rock ‘n’ roll is born, commercial considerations be damned. (RCA Records - U.K. import, released August 27th, 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine