Archive Review: Mitch Ryder’s Detroit Ain’t Dead Yet (The Promise) (2009)

The Legendary Mitch Ryder

 

Back in the fall of 1980, when Detroit rocker Bob Seger was riding high on the charts and packin’ ‘em into the stadiums with his Against the Wind album, he sold out every show during an unheard-of nine-night stand in the Motor City. For these triumphant homecoming shows, Seger hand-picked Detroit rock ‘n’ soul legend Mitch Ryder as his opener, a gracious act that jump-started Ryder’s second shot at the brass ring.

Born William Levise, Jr. in Hamtramck, a city within the city limits of Detroit, Ryder got his start singing as a teen with a local soul band named the Peps before forming his own Billy Lee and the Rivieras. Discovered in 1965 by producer Bob Crewe, the band was re-named Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, and they would go on to score a string of early hits like “Jenny Take A Ride,” “C.C. Rider,” and “Devil with A Blue Dress On.” When the hits dried up, Ryder made the sojourn to Memphis to record the amazing The Detroit/Memphis Experiment with Booker T and the M.G.’s in 1969.

Mitch Ryder’s Detroit Ain’t Dead Yet (The Promise)

Returning home, Ryder put together the ground-breaking rock outfit Detroit, which released a single 1971 album that yielded a hit with an energetic cover of Lou Reed’s “Rock and Roll.” By 1973, though, Ryder was experiencing problems with his voice, and he retired from music. He still had the itch, however, and his self-produced 1978 comeback album How I Spent My Vacation led to the aforementioned gigs opening for Seger; more indie releases; a major label deal and a John Mellencamp-produced, critically-acclaimed album that went nowhere fast. Although Ryder’s overshadowing influence could be heard in ‘80s-era hits from folks like Seger, Mellencamp, and Springsteen, the man couldn’t get arrested with his own work.

Flash forward almost 30 years and, much like the gardens that are starting to crop up in the abandoned lots around the urban wasteland formerly known as Detroit, Mitch Ryder is still punching away at success. He never really went anywhere you know…Ryder remained somewhat of a star in Europe, and he has continued to record and release albums to the present day. In the closing days of 2009, he teamed with producer Don Was – another Motor City talent – to record Detroit Ain’t Dead Yet (The Promise) in L.A. with a top notch batch of musicians. Working with a set of largely original songs, Ryder has delivered a spirited performance that equals his mid-1980s creative peak.      

Ryder’s calling card has always been his uncanny ability to blend blues, soul, and rock ‘n’ roll into a single artistic entity, and it’s no different on Detroit Ain’t Dead Yet (The Promise). Ryder’s whiskey-soaked vocals still ooze with blue-eyed soul better than anybody ever has; nowhere is this more evident than on the album-opening track, the semi-autobiographical “Back Then.” Ryder’s vox slip-n-slide across a funky soundtrack with characteristic swagger, growling when necessary and hitting the high notes when appropriate as the band lays down a vicious groove.

And so it goes…the Southern-fried soul of “My Heart Belongs To Me” benefits from some Steve Cropper-styled geetar pickin’, a lively rhythmic backdrop, and Ryder’s passionate vocals. The intelligent, sometimes shocking “Junkie Love” is a frank discussion of addiction that benefits from 1970s-styled rolling funk-n-soul instrumentation, lively vocals, and Randy Jacobs’ squealing fretwork. A beautiful cover of the great Jimmy Ruffin soul gem “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted” was recorded live and showcases Ryder’s emotion-tugging vocal abilities while “The Way We Were” is a haunting, topical tale of society’s decline that rocks as hard as it rolls.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Detroit Ain’t Dead Yet (The Promise) isn’t an exploitative cash-grab taking advantage of some over-the-hill, broken-and-broke-ass rocker. No, this is the one-and-only Mitch Ryder, still kicking ass and taking names at age 65, delivering a monster set of songs that combine the artist’s 1960s rock ‘n’ soul roots with his edgy 1980s solo work. With a sympathetic producer in Don Was, who worked with Ryder in the 1990s with his own Motor City band Was (Not Was), Ryder is able to make a late-career statement that stands tall alongside anything he’s ever done. Detroit ain’t dead yet, and neither is Mitch Ryder… (Freeworld Records/Floating World Records, 2009)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine, 2009…

Archive Review: Slim Cessna's Auto Club's The Bloudy Tenent, Truth & Peace (2004)

Slim Cessna’s Auto Club blends punk attitude with Gospel fervor, traditional C&W roots, and rockabilly riffs, creating a mutant strain of spiritual music that sounds like it was brewed up in some mountain hollow. Cessna is the band’s main vocalist and songwriter, a prophet without honor with a background seeped in mystery. The rest of the band – Rev. Glasseye, Munly Munly, Tim Maher, Dwight Pentacost, and Judithann – aptly support Cessna’s musical ministry. As you might guess, the lyrical direction of The Bloudy Tenet, Truth  & Peace concerns itself with sin and salvation, the benefits of a simple country life and the evils of modern society. A thought-provoking collection of songs by a talented if slightly off-center band, The Bloudy Tenet, Truth & Peace is unlike anything you’ll hear this year. Gospel music from Hell’s half acre? Joyful noise from the Devil’s playground? Only the Lord hisself can judge… (Alternative Tentacles Records, 2004)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat zine...

Archive Review: Motörhead’s Motörizer (2008)

Just one question: why isn’t Motörhead in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame? If there was ever a band that epitomizes the road warrior ethic, a lifelong dedication to the rock ‘n’ roll muse, it’s this gang. Motörhead’s 24th album, Motörizer provides another good argument for the band’s ticket to Cleveland. These songs don’t just sit there on the slab o’ plastic like some stinkin’ corpse, they leap out of your speakers with bloodlust, a knife in their teeth and evil on today’s “to do” list. Lemmy’s liquor-soaked blues-metal growl is complimented by Filthy Phil’s napalm-strength fretwork while drummer Mikkey Dee delivers a good old-fashioned mugging. Songs like the pub-rocking “English Rose” or the brutal “Buried Alive” are landmines itching to trigger, displaying a mix of punk attitude and metallic overkill. Motörizer is a hellbound train, with Lemmy K at the helm…hold on for the ride of your life! (Steamhammer Records/SPV Music, released August 26th, 2008)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine, 2008...

Archive Review: Bill Janovitz & Crown Victoria's Fireworks On TV! (2004)

Alt-rock veteran Bill Janovitz – late of the Boston band Buffalo Tom – originally formed Crown Victoria as a vehicle for his solo efforts. Recording during the downtime from his critically-acclaimed major label band, Janovitz’s solo work eventually eclipsed the band’s vision and, as things are wont to do in rock ‘n’ roll, Crown Victoria eventually became a full-time pursuit. Fireworks On TV! is the band’s third album, a mature and fully-realized group effort, the tight chemistry between Janovitz and his bandmates showcased on tunes like “Almost Beating” and the eclectic “One Two Three.”

Janovitz’s musical milieu definitely falls into the folk-rock vein, with a little alt-country twang and alt-rock guitar pyrotechnics thrown in to spice things up a bit. An engaging songwriter of no little folk influence, Janovitz has an eye for the minutiae of daily life and the complexities of human relationships. As frontman for Crown Victoria, however, Janovitz nevertheless enjoys the crashing of cymbals, chiming guitars and the Fort Apache studio approximation of Phil Spector’s “wall of sound.” Fireworks On TV! is a smart, hard-rocking and entertaining effort, Janovitz and Crown Victoria ready for prime-time and a higher profile in indie-rock circles. (Q Division Records, 2004)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat zine...

Archive Review: Bill Chinnock’s Badlands (1977 / 2008)

Long before CBS Records tried to remake him into the next Bruce Springsteen (no, I dunno why…maybe one wasn’t enough?), Bill Chinnock was one of the last of the young soul rebels. Pursuing a houserockin’ sound that was equally indebted to the Chicago blooze blast of Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf as it was to Chuck Berry’s three-chord Sturm und Drang, Chinnock was a white bluesman – born in New Jersey, sure, but his heart was beating pure Delta grit.

One of John Hammond’s many discoveries, Chinnock made his bones as part of the Asbury Park mafia, playing in various boardwalk bands with future and present E Streeters like Danny Federici, Gary Tallent, and Vini “Mad Dog” Lopez during the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. At Hammond’s recommendation, Chinnock exiled himself to Maine to work on his wordplay, later emerging as the East Coast poet laureate, his new songs matching intelligent lyrics to a raucous soundtrack that translated well to the stage and made him a bigger performance draw than the Boss during the mid-‘70s.

Bill Chinnock’s Badlands

Of Chinnock’s 1975 debut album, Blues, Hammond said “listening to Bill Chinnock sing blues brings back the days of the old Paramount label with Ma Rainey,” and he oughta know ‘cause John Senior was there in person. Following a live set, Badlands was Chinnock’s third album, originally self-released and the one that finally caught the attention of the suite-sitters at Atlantic Records. The label signed B.C. to what seemed to be a creatively-advantageous deal, bought up all the copies of Badlands floating around the Northeast, and reissued the album with naught but a few additional flourishes.

Not that Badlands needed much tinkering, mind you, the album emerging from Chinnock’s artistic psyche pretty much perfectly intact. The album-opening “Outlaw” is smoky big-band R&B revue stuff, with funky hornplay and Chinnock’s soulful vox shouted out above a driving rhythm. Chinnock sounds like a cross between Tom Waits and David Clayton-Thomas on “Another Man Gone Down,” the sound of heartbreak carved with tears into the grooves of the record. Jazzy guitars and dancing synths sit atop a vaguely disco rhythm, but “Something For Everybody” is a bad-luck tale of homeless life in 1978 America that retains its optimism and hope in the face of desperation, stating “the streets are filled with money, the sidewalks paved in gold.”

Chinnock’s “Crazy Ol’ Rock ‘N Roll Man” is a brilliantly-painted rock ‘n’ soul anthem for every bar band and rock star hopeful that ever climbed onto a ramshackle stage while “Prisoner” is pure ‘70s-era R&B cheese, all soulman tease and ready-to-please with the Brecker Brothers holding down a funkified bottom end while Chinnock’s lusty voice soars just below the clouds. Chinnock’s relationship with Atlantic went downhill fast after the label ignored Badlands in favor of a fresh album, one for which the singer felt they were trying to push his normally rhythmic, soul-driven sound into a more disco-oriented direction when all he wanted to do was RAWK!

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Slamming the door behind him on the way out, Chinnock returned to the indie hinterlands save for the mid-‘80s travesty that was his CBS Records deal, enjoying a lengthy and productive career in music, video and graphic arts until his death in 2007. Badlands remains a favorite with Chinnock’s loyal fans, a soulful romp down the lost highway that separates rhythm & blues and rock ‘n’ roll, the album displaying the attitude of both. (Collectors’ Choice Music, reissued August 12th, 2008)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine, 2008

Archive Review: Nick Gravenites’ Bluestar (2009)

His name might not be familiar to the average blues fan, but you really can’t challenge Nick Gravenites’ credentials. He was part of a circle of blues-loving white musicians in Chicago during the early 1960s that included Paul Butterfield and Mike Bloomfield. He was schooled by some of the biggest names and talents in the city, including Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Otis Rush. His songs have been recorded by folks like the Wolf and James Cotton, and his classic “Born In Chicago,” performed by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, earned him his ticket into the Blues Hall of Fame.

One of the reasons that Gravenites is not the best-known of Chicago’s young blues turks is because he recorded so infrequently on his own. Gravenites released his solo debut, My Labors, in 1969 between touring and recording with Big Brother & the Holding Company. He didn’t get around to releasing his sophomore album, Bluestar, until 1980. Working with a band that included some of the San Francisco Bay area’s best talents, including bassist Pete Sears (Jefferson Starship), harmonica player Huey Lewis, and his Gravenites-Cipollina Band collaborator John Cipollina (Quicksilver Messenger Service), Gravenites delivered a stellar set of rockin’ blues tunes.   

Nick Gravenites’ Bluestar

Gravenites’ “Junkyard In Malibu” is a good measure of the artist’s songwriting skills, a sly song that posits a junkyard in the high-priced enclave of Malibu, California that serves as an analogy for a love gone bad. Gravenites’ gravel-throated vocals are complimented by a funky, swaggering rhythm while he and guitarist Cipollina swap Southern-fried licks back and forth. The mid-tempo “I’m A Bluesman” draws the Mississippi Delta roots out of the Chicago blues to deliver a down-and-dirty declaration that is supported by some fiery fretwork and Huey Lewis’s surprisingly supple harp playing.

The smoldering “Blues Back Off” is a slow dance across the history of the blues, Gravenites’ soulful vocals bolstered by Sears’ subtle keyboard flourishes, drummer Joey Covington’s steady beats, and a blistering guitar solo slightly more than two minutes in that channels decades of R&B soul into six strings and several measures of gorgeous tone. By comparison, “Who’s Out There” is a good old-fashioned Chicago blues styled romp, with the rhythm section kicking out a rapid, foot-stomping pace and Lewis blasting out a wild harp riff. The guitar solo here – I’m guessing that it’s Gravenites – sounds like Buddy Guy in his prime, full of energy and passion.

Remembering The Southside

The wild boogie-rocker “My Party” takes its cue from John Lee Hooker with a mesmerizing rhythm, walking bass line, and swamp-blues flavored vocals while the semi-autobiographical “Southside” is Gravenites’ account of those raucous early ‘60s nights in Chicago’s blues clubs. With a deliberate beat and staggering rhythm guitar, the song is as entertaining as it is boastful.

Of the three bonus tracks included on this first-time CD release of Bluestar, the slippery “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” is the best, its somber vocals and serpentine slide-guitar matched by a dark-hued ambiance and driving rhythm. What the live “Rattlecan Man” lacks in sound quality it more than makes up for with pure reckless energy, the mid-tempo traditional blues number benefiting from a swinging rhythm and shocks of sharp-edged guitar.  

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Because he’s working in a traditional blues medium that has changed little in 50+ years, there’s a lot on Nick Gravenites’ Bluestar that will sound familiar to the experienced blues fan. On the other hand, it’s exactly for this reason that much of Bluestar sounds as fresh and contemporary today as it did in 1980. Gravenites’ guitarwork is solid and, at times, downright scary good, while his songwriting is never anything less than entertaining. This is timeless blues and blues-rock music, and if you’ve never heard of Nick Gravenites, or you’ve heard of him and always been curious, you’ll find Bluestar to be a pleasant surprise. (Renaissance Records/It’s About Music, 2009)

CD Review: White Animals' Star Time (2024)

The White Animals were one of the first original rock bands to hit the fledgling late ‘70s Nashville rock scene, and they remained one of the most popular regional acts throughout much of the 1980s. The White Animals’ dub-styled college radio-friendly cover of “These Boots Are Made For Walking” brought the Nancy Sinatra oldie to an entirely different generation but all too often overshadows the truth that the White Animals were one of the first bands to take lessons from Prince Tubby and Lee “Scratch” Perry by incorporating Jamaican dub influence into what were inherently rock ‘n’ roll songs before the Clash, the Police, or even Killing Joke did so…  

Beneath the novelty and the cover songs, however, was the beating heart of a skilled and creative rock ‘n’ roll band in thrall to a myriad of influences. As the band’s primary songwriters Kevin Gray and Steve Boyd grew in confidence, so too did their original material display heightened boldness and sophistication, albums like 1982’s Lost Weekend, 1984’s Ecstasy, their self-titled 1986 LP, and 1987 swansong, In the Last Days, worthy of reissuing and rediscovery by a new generation. After a seven-year run that included video airplay on MTV and opening slots for bands like the Ramones and Talking Head, the band split up. A modestly-successful, 17-song compilation CD titled 3,000 Nites In Babylon was released in 2000, followed shortly thereafter by a 2001 studio album, The White Animals.

White Animals’ Star Time

Flash-forward 23 years and White Animals (no “The” this time) have released their first studio album in decades in Star Time, a fab 12-song collection that – no surprise, really – shows that the band hasn’t lost a step during its lengthy hiatus. Featuring four/fifths of the original band (keyboardist Tim Coats is AWOL), Star Time provides 37 jam-packed minutes of high-octane rock ‘n’ roll cheap thrills. Album-opener “My Baby Put Me On the Shelf” is the best 1960s-inspired garage-rock rave-up that was never recorded by the Seeds, with Rich Parks and Kevin Gray’s screeching guitarplay propelled by the dynamite rhythm section of bassist Steve Boyd and drummer Ray Crabtree, the band delivering hints of the vocal harmonies they’re capable of embellishing their material with.

Star Time only gets better from this point forward … “In A Post-Apocalyptic World (Would You Be My Girl?)” is a delightfully wry power-pop tune with great vocals and an infectious melody while “Ready To Go” is a bluesy romper-stomper with the best use of echo that I’ve heard since my bong-influenced wayward youth. The Delta-dirty “Chanty” is even bluesier, with serpentine guitar and eerie, prison-gang styled call-and-response vocals. It’s a cool performance with an undeniable presence that unexpectedly switches gears mid-song. “I Tried Like Heck” is vintage White Animals, an unabashed pop song with a rock ‘n’ roll edge, inventive fretwork underlining the vocals, and a driving rhythm that’s heavy on Crabtree’s powerful big beats. The heartbreak of “Back Around” is pure 1980s-era college radio rock with a popish vibe, wistful vocals, and rich instrumentation which weaves a gorgeous melody from the chaos.

Something the White Animals did sparingly back in the day was any song with a hint of country influence (they were young soul rebels living in Nashville), but the twangy country-rock of “When It All Came Down” is provided a counterpoint in Parks’ biting, caustic guitar licks. The song’s honky-tonk rhythms and rootsy Americana sound feel like a road untraveled. The jaunty, up-tempo “Unlucky In Love” evinces a similar alt-country pathos and seems more tongue-in-cheek than its predecessor, if no less entertaining. It wouldn’t be a White Animals album without a fanciful cover tune, and for Star Time that’s a mesmerizing, electrifying dub-styled version of “Man of Constant Sorrow” (titled “Man of Constant Dread”). Suffice it to say that previous covers of the antique folk gem by the Stanly Brothers, Bob Dylan, or even Ginger Baker’s Air Force sounded nothing like this.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

There’s really not a duff song to be found on Star Time, which finds the White Animals to be every bit as daring, creative, and carefree as the best of their 1980s-era albums. I don’t know why they never got a major label deal back in the day – maybe they didn’t really want one, preferring their independent Dread Beat label and the freedom it provided – but the White Animals in their prime were every bit as good as better-known contemporaries like Violent Femmes, They Might Be Giants, or Camper Von Beethoven while sounding absolutely like none of them. Star Time rocks from start to finish and, hopefully, the guys won’t wait another 23 years before rewarding their fans with another banger of an album! (Dread Beat Records, 2024)

Buy Star Time directly from the band!

Archive Review: Mike Ness's Under The Influences (1999)

Completing the creative circle that he began earlier this year with the release of his first solo disc, Cheating At Solitaire, Mike Ness delivers his late ‘90s version of Bowie’s Pin-Ups with Under the Influences. Country and rockabilly influences were much in evidence on Cheating At Solitaire, and really seem to provide a comfortable fit for Ness. Although firmly identified with his punk persona as the gravel-voiced, guitar-bashing frontman for the twenty-year-old Social Distortion, Ness is, at heart, one of those greasy guys from down the street with his “Born To Lose” tattoo and an oil-dripping, high-powered Mopar muscle car in the yard. Since I grew up with those guys in the rural outskirts of Nashville, as did Ness, I can readily identify with his gradual evolution back to his roots.

Under the Influences focuses on the country, honky-tonk, and rockabilly music that Ness has come to love and throws out inspired covers of folks like Hank Williams (naturally), Harlan Howard, Carl Perkins, and Marty Robbins, among others. The performances are delivered with passion and energy, bridging the musical gap between the natural early rebelliousness of C & W and surly punk attitude. Not that these are punked-up covers, mind you – Ness plays it straight, with reverent readings of such classics as Robbins’ “Big Iron,” Wanda Jackson’s “Funnel of Love” (also covered nicely this year by former punk diva Rosie Flores), and Bobby’s Fuller’s “I Fought the Law.” Under the Influences closes with a cowpunk version of Social D’s own “Ball And Chain.” It’s an overall spirited effort, and if Ness and crew turn one young punk poseur onto Hank or Marty with Under the Influences, then their work here is done. (Time Bomb Recordings)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine, 1999

Archive Review: Down By Law’s Punkrockdays (2002)

When the members of Down By Law decided to assemble a career retrospective, they didn’t just do it themselves; they brought their fans into the process, asking them to vote for their favorite DBL songs on the band’s web site. The highest scoring tunes appear on Punkrockdays, the band’s “best of” compilation. The resulting song selection may not be the best representation of the band’s talents – it certainly shortchanges their more political material – but it is certainly representative of the songs the band’s audience is listening to.

Down By Law’s Punkrockdays

Formed in 1990 by former Dag Nasty/All vocalist Dave Smalley and members of the Chemical People, Down By Law were one of the trailblazing bands in the field of melodic punk, that is hardcore roots paired with pop influences. True, the movement has led to atrocities like Sum-41 and most of the Drive Thru label roster, but it has also yielded some fine bands in Green Day and the Offspring. DBL were there at the beginning, though, and Punkrockdays chronicles the first decade of the band’s career, drawing material from all five of the band’s Epitaph label albums (no songs from their 2000 Go Kart release are included here, tho’).

The quality of the songs on Punkrockdays varies, since the band’s players have changed frequently through the years, the line-up not really gelling until adding guitarist Sam Williams III for DBL’s breakthrough third album, punkrockacademyfightsong. None of the songs here are bad, just that some – like “Radio Ragga,” “Independence Day,” and “No Equalizer” – stand out as really good tunes. Smalley is an exceptional punk rock vocalist and a solid, accessible songwriter, his lyrics nailing the concerns and hopes of his audience.

Williams has the best chops of the band’s different guitarists, outshining even Dag Nasty’s Brian Baker, who appears on “Goodnight Song.” Williams shows a better chemistry with frontman Smalley, covering his vocals like a comfortable wool blanket. DBL is also quite well-known for their cover performances, and readings of the Proclaimers’ hit “500 Miles” and Big Country’s “In A Big Country” are played straight and are actually quite fun, DBL showing the pop side of its roots and influences.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Down By Law are still going strong – a Dag Nasty reunion album notwithstanding – the band continuing to appeal to new fans and increase its audience with electric live shows and songs like those showcased by Punkrockdays. For any punk fan unfamiliar with Down By Law, this is the place to begin listening, discovering the charm and talent that have made DBL a household name in fine punk rock homes everywhere. (Epitaph Records, released 2002)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™