The blues world lost a major talent in Michael “Iron Man” Burks when the 54-year-old guitarist died unexpectedly in May 2012. Burks had all but finished his fourth Alligator Records release at the time of his death, the posthumous release of Show of Strength a reminder that our time here is short, and we have to make the most of what time we have left…a philosophy that Burks evidently lived to his final day.
Burks earned his “Iron Man” nickname by delivering hours-long, physically-demanding performances night after night, his soulful vocals matched by a fierce, unique guitar style that would leave audiences breathless. A charismatic performer, nobody left a Michael Burks show without a smile on their face, and the artist would climb behind the wheel of his van and drive hundreds of miles to his next show. A true blue-collar bluesman, Burks was the real deal...something more than proven by what is sadly his final album.
Michael “Iron Man” Burks’ Show of Strength
Show of Strength opens with an icy cold riff that sounds like Eric Clapton channeling Albert Collins. “Count On You” is a perfect example of Burks’ melding of hard-edged blues and smooth-as-silk soul, the song’s title a deceptive play on words that masks the emotional anguish of the romantic betrayal laid out in the lyrics. Burks, a vastly underrated vocalist, does an unbelievable job of choking back the tears with fierce determination, the words punctuated by the wide slashes of colorful guitar that serve as a vehicle for the song’s anger and frustration. It’s an enormous performance, and while a talented band adds instrumental flourishes in the background – like Wayne Sharp’s ethereal keyboard notes – this is Burks’ show and he commands the spotlight.
While “Count On You” opens the door to Show of Strength with a mean uppercut, it’s by no means the only knockout punch the album has to offer. Burks’ original “Take A Chance On Me, Baby” is a deliberately-paced, slow-to-mid-tempo traditional blues plea, the musical equivalent of a controlled burn as Burks’ fiery vocals are matched by his scorching fretwork and a deep, loping groove that his longtime rhythm section of bassist Terrence Grayson and Chuck “Popcorn” Louden maneuver like a formula one race car.
Cross Eyed Woman
The guitarist engages in a little call-and-response with the band on “Can You Read Between the Lines?” Burks’ vocals are a little more energetic here, mixing up Memphis soul and Southern rock atop a funky rhythm, his imaginative solos a little more Dixie-fried than usual, his fluid guitar lines echoing Duane Allman more than obvious influences like Albert King. If Burks looked towards the South for that performance, he seems to have looked across the ocean for “Cross Eyed Woman,” a muscular blues-rock barn-burner that sounds more like 1960s-era Free or Cream than like Burks’ typical traditional blues fare.
Laying down some of the meanest slide-guitar licks that you’ve ever heard, Burks’ blustery performance on “Cross Eyed Woman” is supported by a truly malevolent instrumental backdrop, the band – especially Sharp’s Jon Lord-styled keyboard riffs – flexing like the first winds of a hurricane. The song’s long instrumental lead-out, complete with high-flying Burks solo, will thrill blues guitar fans everywhere, displaying the guitarist’s mastery of the form and knowledge of all facets of the blues.
Feel Like Going Home
After three albums with Alligator, Burks was coming into his own as a songwriter, and nowhere is this more evident than on the autobiographical “Little Juke Joint.” A slow-burning blues jam that benefits from Scott Dirks’ spirited harp playing, the song is based on Burks’ family’s Bradley Ferry Country Club juke-joint back home in Arkansas. Burks plays lively above a shuffling groove, flurries of notes hitting your ears like a boxer’s body-blows as the singer recalls good times – and bad – as he colorfully describes the beloved family establishment, warts and all. Another Burks co-write, “Since I Been Loving You,” is a hauntingly beautiful tale of love and betrayal delivered with a slow-dancing blues tempo, the guitarist’s anguished vocals complimented by his mournful guitar notes and Sharp’s sobbing keyboards. Burks’ textured solos here definitely add to the vibe of the song, his playing full of emotion and muted but apparent strength.
Show of Strength closes with a cover of country legend Charlie Rich’s “Feel Like Going Home,” the song taking on an eerie prescience in the wake of the guitarist’s unexpected passing. Burks delivers an incredible, gospel-tinged vocal performance above Roosevelt Purifoy’s tasteful, elegant piano arrangement. Burks’ voice sounds weary, ready to quit this world and prepared to accept the grace offered by the afterlife. His short guitar solos are perhaps, the best that Burks has ever put on tape – strong but not flashy, reverent but loudly vocal, drenched in mixed emotion and resolve, ready to accept the future whatever may come. It’s an incredibly moving and powerful gospel-blues performance by an enormously talented artist.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
To his credit, Alligator’s Bruce Iglauer, who co-produced Show of Strength with Burks, chose to leave the album as the two men had intended, as he says in the liner notes, “not as a memorial to a friend and bluesman gone, but as a living, breathing statement, sent straight from Michael’s heart and soul. Although Michael is not here, the music he recorded is indeed his show of his immense strength and spirit. It will live on, confirming forever his status as one of the greatest bluesmen of his generation.”
The apex of a career cut short far too soon, Show of Strength is a career-making milestone of an album, which makes me all the angrier that it’s also the last music we’ll ever hear from the talented singer, songwriter, and guitarist. Throughout it all, Burks’ performance shines like a supernova, both his singing and guitar playing displaying great confidence, elegance, and melody, the man obviously pouring everything he had into Show of Strength. As a swansong, none could do better… (Alligator Records, released August 21, 2012)
For a teenaged music fanatic, Nashville in the early ‘70s was a magical place.
As a high schooler who looked just “adult” enough to sneak into bars and clubs
like The Villager, Sam’s Pizza Place, and the Exit In, I witnessed performers
like Guy Clark, Jimmy Buffett, Townes Van Zandt, Waylon Jennings, and David
Allan Coe honing their craft on stage.
Flash forward a couple of
decades when, as a grizzled local music critic, I found a similar magic in the
Nashville rock scene of the early ‘90s. Artists as talented as Tommy Womack,
Will Kimbrough, and Will Owsley, among many others, hit many of the same stages
as their forebears, as well as a few new clubs, trying to forge a career in the
“Music City.” Of all of these young talents, none burned hotter or shined
brighter than singer/songwriter
Todd Snider.
Snider passed away this week at the age of 59 after a bout with
pneumonia. He’d suffered through a rough couple of weeks that would likely have
been fodder for one of his brilliantly insightful story-songs: assaulted outside
of a club before a performance in Salt Lake City, Snider ended up in the
hospital. After being treated for his injuries, Snider thought that his release
was premature and got into an argument with hospital staff. Police were called,
and Snider was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct, threat of violence,
and suspicion of criminal trespassing.
He was released from custody on his own recognizance earlier the following
morning, and the rest of his remaining tour dates were canceled. Returning home
to Tennessee to rest and recuperate, Snider fell ill with undiagnosed walking
pneumonia, and landed in the hospital where things took a turn for the worse.
Snider had been touring in support of his critically-acclaimed 15th album, the
bluesy High, Lonesome, and Then Some, which had been released in
September on his own Aimless Records label.
Snider was born and
raised in 1966 in the Portland, Oregon area and attended college for a semester
in Santa Rosa, California. He moved to San Marcos, Texas near San Antonio in
1985. It was there that he’d have a life-changing epiphany after seeing the
legendary country outlaw Jerry Jeff Walker perform at a local club. Despite not
knowing how to play a guitar, or even owning one, Snider decided then and there
to become a songwriter. He began penning his wry original tunes, and playing
writer’s nights at local clubs while developing his sound.
Finding an
invaluable mentor in San Marcos club owner Kent Finlay, Snider was introduced to
the work of songwriters like Guy Clark, Shel Silverstein, and his future boss,
John Prine. Snider began to develop a following in San Antonio and Austin clubs
and eventually came to the attention of Memphis musician and songwriter Keith
Sykes, a member of Jimmy Buffett’s Coral Reefer Band. Sykes convinced Snider to
move to Memphis, where he took up a residence at The Daily Planet club and
quickly built a loyal following as he continued to crank out songs.
After a development deal with Capitol Records in Nashville fell through (the
label likely didn’t know how to promote Snider’s quirky, unique material), Sykes
approached Buffett, his former boss, and managed to get Snider a deal with
Buffett’s Margaritaville Records label, which was then distributed by MCA. The
label released Snider’s 1994 debut album, Songs From the Daily Planet,
comprised largely of material Snider had performed at the Memphis club. The
album resulted in a minor hit with a ‘hidden track’, “Talking Seattle Grunge
Rock Blues,” while humorous tracks like “My Generation (Part 2)” and “Alright
Guy” received widespread national airplay on the syndicated Bob & Tom radio
show.
More than a mere novelty act, Snider was capable of writing
powerful, emotion-inducing songs like Daily Planet’s “I Spoke As A Child”
and “You Think You Know Somebody.” Sales were good enough to prompt a follow-up,
and Snider’s sophomore effort, Step Right Up, was released in 1996 with
Viva Satellite arriving in 1998. Snider had issues with his label,
however, as Margaritaville left MCA before the release of Viva Satellite,
and the major label retained the rights to Snider’s work. As was typical of the
MCA at the time, they subsequently released Snider from his contract after they
under-promoted the album.
Quickly bouncing back, Snider signed with
Nashville singer/songwriter John Prine’s independent Oh Boy Records label, where
he’d do the best work of his career. He released his fourth album,
Happy To Be Here, in 2000 with studio contributions from Nashville
talents like guitarists Will Kimbrough and Pat Buchanan, NRBQ bassist Joey
Spampinato, and multi-instrumentalist Peter Holsapple (The dB’s, R.E.M.). The
R.S. Field-produced New Connection was released in 2002, followed a year
later by Snider’s first live album, Near Truths and Hotel Rooms,
featuring Snider, his guitar and harmonica, and a guitar case full of
stories.
Snider’s fourth and final album for Oh Boy was 2004’s classic
East Nashville Skyline, arguably the singer/songwriter’s best work.
Recorded with friend and bandmate Will Kimbrough and a studio full of talented
young Nashville studio hotshots, East Nashville Skyline offered up
finely-crafted, intelligent story-songs like “Play A Train Song,” “The Ballad of
the Kingsmen,” and the wickedly-funny, autobiographical “Tillamook County Jail.”
After East Nashville Skyline, Snider took a jump towards the major
leagues, signing with the Universal Music-distributed New Door Records.
Snider
recorded just one album for New Door, working again with Kimbrough, who
co-produced 2006’s The Devil You Know, with another friend, Tommy Womack,
adding guitar to the album. Although critically-acclaimed, and a damn fine
album, New Door didn’t have the resources to properly promote
The Devil You Know. A solo Snider performance at Grimey’s Music in
Nashville was recorded and released by New Door in 2007 as
Live With the Devil You Know At Grimey’s Nashville, which would mark the
end of the singer/songwriter’s tenure with New Door.
Launching his
own independent Aimless Records label with the 2008 EP Peace Queer,
Snider recorded a one-off album for Yep Roc Records – the Don Was-produced
The Excitement Plan – before returning to his own imprint with laudable
efforts like 2011’s double-CD Live (The Storyteller), which positioned
Snider as a stoner sage to the left of Will Rogers, 2012’s acclaimed
Agnostic Hymns and Stoner Fables and the same year’s
Time As We Know It, a tribute to Snider’s original musical inspiration,
Jerry Jeff Walker. Through the years, Snider has also contributed performances
to several tribute albums for such personal heroes as Billy Joe Shaver (whose
son Eddy played in one of Snider’s early bands), Kris Kristofferson, Peter Case,
and Kinky Friedman.
Hooking up with Widespread Panic bassist Dave Schools, Snider formed a jam
band “supergroup” in the Hard Working Americans in 2013, adding the late Neal
Casal (The Cardinals) on guitar and Duane Trucks (guitarist Derek Trucks’
younger brother) on drums. The Hard Working Americans released a pair of
studio albums in 2014 and 2016 as well as a pair of live albums, the first of
which – The First Waltz – included a full-length documentary film about
the Americans directed by Justin Kreutzmann. The group has since recorded a
yet-to-be-released album of material written by Snider.
A
charismatic and charming performer, Snider was seemingly made for TV, and he
performed on all of the late-night talk shows of the ‘90s and early 2000s,
including Late Night with Conan O’Brien,
Late Show with David Letterman, and
The Tonight Show with Jay Leno as well as several music-oriented
programs like ABC’s In Concert and Austin City Limits. Snider
released his sorta, kinda memoirs,
I Never Met A Story I Didn’t Like: Mostly True Tall Tales, in 2014 and
contributed a chapter on his mentor, Cheatham Street Warehouse club owner Kent
Finlay, for a 2016 book on the musical entrepreneur’s life.
Over
the years, Snider co-wrote songs with a number of Nashville talents, including
his frequent musical partners Will Kimbrough and Tommy Womack, as well as
Keith Sykes, Billy Joe Shaver, Jason Ringenberg (Jason & the Scorchers),
Dan Baird (The Georgia Satellites), and Gary Bennett (BR-549) and had songs
recorded by country artists like Jerry Jeff Walker, Cross Canadian Ragweed,
Robert Earl Keen, and even legendary ‘60s hitmaker Tom Jones.
The Hard Working Americans (Todd second from right)
Snider’s eclectic and personable songwriting and performing style isn’t
everybody’s cuppa. He’s brutally sincere and speaks openly about his battle
with substance abuse. His humorous and often-times satirical songs reveal
something of the human condition at the core while his more serious fare is
emotionally-charged and thoughtful. Snider was too often categorized as a
“novelty” act because he infused his folkish story-songs with humor and wit,
reducing funny-cause-they-could-be-true songs like “Beer Run” or the satirical
“Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues” to comedic status without recognizing the
skill it took to weave these tales.
In my 2004 review of Snider’s
East Nashville Skyline, I boldly wrote that “considering Snider’s
entire oeuvre (and I have heard it all), it’s time, perhaps, for a bit of rock
critic heresy: Snider is this generation’s Dylan. Snider’s rootsy blend of
rock, folk, blues, and country echoes that of rock’s greatest scribe.” I stand
by my words, and Snider has done little in 20+ years to make me reconsider. A
talented and vastly underrated singer, songwriter, and performer, the recent
release of High, Lonesome, and Then Some proves that Snider still had
something to say and songs to write.
As news of Snider’s death
reverberated throughout the Nashville music scene and beyond, tributes poured
in and stories were shared by many of his friends and musical collaborators.
Former Georgia Satellites frontman Dan Baird wrote “whether you knew him or
not, the fact is our world has lost a true creative ball of cosmic chaos.”
Producer and musician Eric Ambel (of the Yayhoos and the Del Lords) wrote
“thank you for the beautiful songs and stories and for championing so many
wonderful artists while you were here with us.”
Former Snider band
member and frequent musical collaborator Tommy Womack wrote in his tribute for
The Nashvillian, “Todd Snider was the most naturally talented person
I’ve ever met. I first saw that from looking at his face while he performed.
Later, I saw it while looking at his keister as a member of his band. He could
have coasted on that talent, but Todd never coasted. About anything. He was
either driving 200 mph or he was in the pit bay being lectured to by doctors
who thought they were dealing with some sort of mere mortal.”
Smilin’
Jay McDowell of the country band BR-549 remembers “I moved to East Nashville
in 1994. It was purely because it was the cheap part of town. There were very
few restaurants or bars. So, you crossed paths with people regularly. It
seemed every time I turned around, there was Todd. He never said hi, he just
always said, “B R 5 4 9” in that crazy way of his,” adding “I’m sure gonna
miss that guy.” Peter Holsapple wrote “grateful to have gotten to record with
Todd Snider in 1999. Such a remarkable songwriter, what a terrible
loss.”
Behind the mask that hid Snider’s pain, he had a
(perhaps) accidentally profound take on life, closing East Nashville Skyline
with the poppy “Enjoy Yourself,” reminding his fans to always “enjoy yourself,
it’s later than you think.” Read Tommy Womack’s full tribute to Todd in The Nashvillian
Jean Beauvoir is the proverbial multi-talented “jack-of-all-trades,” an item all too rare in these days of somnolent superstars, jaded lipstick-stung video vixen, and millionaire session men. Beauvoir swapped licks fast and furious with the nastiest of metalheads, punks, and rockers as guitarist/bassist for Plasmatics and Little Steven’s Disciples of Soul. His production credits include board work done for the Ramones and Lords of the New Church and, with the release of Drums Along the Mohawk, he showcases his considerable skills as a performer.
With all of the material written, produced, and performed by Beauvoir, Drums Along the Mohawk is a beguiling debut disc; at first listen, seemingly no more than your typical AOR cannon fodder, a couple of rockin’ numbers followed by the obligatory ballad. Drums is much more than this, though…it is instead a deceptively complex cycle of songs with many layers of instrumentation underscoring Beauvoir’s unique and distinct vocal style (which, not surprisingly, resembles a strong hybrid of mentor Steve Van Zandt’s nasal twang and Prince’s earthy funkiness).
The songs are interesting, self-contained vignettes, ranging in style from the rocking “Feal the Heat” (used as a theme for Sylvester Stallone’s summer film Cobra) to the reggaeish, rollicking “Rockin’ In the Street” to the beautiful, emotion-evoking “Sorry I Missed Your Wedding Day.” The result is that while certainly not a trend-setting album, Drums Along the Mohawk delivers a solid, enjoyable 40 minutes of music…what more could one ask for? (Columbia Records, released June 1986)
Review originally published by Nashville’s The Metro magazine...
It’s a music lover’s dream come true, the best damn pop band in the whole freakin’ world recording an album with the globe’s top pop producer. If you don’t’ believe me, the proof is in the grooves, chuckles! The Smithereens’ Especially For You, producer by music-meister Don Dixon (R.E.M., Guadalcanal Diary, etc) is THE disc of the year!
“Well, well,” I hear you shaking your collective heads and sighing, “that fruitcake Gordon has finally sunk his ship off the pier on this one…who the hell are the Smithereens and why should I listen to them” That screwball is always making grandiose claims of greatness on behalf of some obscure bar band or another...I just don’t know!”
Fret no more, oh skeptical one, for I shall lay aside all doubts with a handful of reasons as to why you should discover the Smithereens: 1) The Smithereens write and sing melodic, engaging little ditties that resemble and recall all those songs you love from the swingin’ ‘60s; 2) Especially For You is the album that every one of those “nuevo wave-o” pretenders tried to make during the years 1977 to 1982 with their skinny ties and all, the Smithereens deliver it in 1986; 3) How about a band that combines Beatlesque harmonies with fab instrumental gymnastics like the Who and sound like the entire British Invasion’? That’s the Smithereens; 4) Don Dixon’s pop sensibilities and immense production skills are tailor-made for a band such as this and it shows in the results; 5) The Smithereens hail from New Jersey, that mythical rock ‘n’ roll badlands that has produced such musical stalwarts as Bruce Springsteen, Southside Johnny, and Little Steven; and 6) I highly recommend Especially For You as a tonic for your blues, a quick pick-me-upper, a miracle cure for boredom, a way to get a date on Saturday night, a rock ‘n’ roll elixir and besides, have I ever steered you wrong?
The Smithereens…either you pick up on ‘em now or feel humiliated and shunned down the road when you hear ‘em all over your radio and you have to borrow a copy of this classic LP from that smarmy, pimple-faced wanker that lives next door. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you… (Enigma Records, released July 1986)
Review originally published by Nashville’s The Metro magazine...
By 1999, blues guitarists Lonnie Brooks, ‘Long John’ Hunter, and Phillip Walker were all in their mid-to-late 60s and had enjoyed varying levels of success with their own distinctive takes on blues music. All three men had come up through the rough-and-tumble Gulf Coast blues scene during the 1950s, honing their skills in front of the toughest, most demanding audiences you can imagine in dodgy bars and clubs in cities like Beaumont and Port Arthur, and backwater juke joints along the Texas and Louisiana border.
Alligator Records founder Bruce Iglauer had the idea to reunite these three talented performers and instrumentalists, all of whom had played together one time or another back in the day. Recording in Austin, Texas with local musicians, Lone Star Shootout was an album that excelled at execution but flopped at the box office. Critically-acclaimed and receiving two W.C. Handy Award nominations – ultimately losing both to a pair of fellow Texans, Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughan, and their In Session album – Lone Star Shootout sold poorly nonetheless. It’s time for blues fans to take another look, perhaps, at the undeniable talents and fine performances of Lonnie Brooks, Long John Hunter, and Phillip Walker on Lone Star Shootout.
Lonnie Brooks, Long John Hunter & Phillip Walker
The party kicks off with a particularly raucous rendition of Lonnie Brooks’ “Roll, Roll, Roll,” a swamp-rocker that throws a little New Orleans-styled piano courtesy of Riley Osbourn. The three guitarists swap both licks and vocals with reckless aplomb on this vintage 1950s-era rocker, Brooks taking the lead with his smoky voice and wiry solo while Long John shines during the second section with his soulful voice and high-toned, complex solo. Not to be undone by his compatriots, Walker steps out of his role here as rhythm guitar to tear off an impressive solo of his own that lands somewhere in between Brooks’ lightning and Hunter’s thunder.
Long John Hunter comes to the fore for one of the newer tunes on Lone Star Shootout, “A Little More Time” a 1950s-styled R&B romp penned in the manner of Guitar Slim. A mid-tempo semi-ballad with soulful vocals, bluesy lyrics, and a lovely, emotional lead, “A Little More Time” is the perfect fusion of rhythm and blues. The classic “Bon Ton Roulet” represents the New Orleans side of the Gulf Coast sound, the song featuring an infectious foot-shuffling rhythm and a jaunty, Cajun-flavored rhythm. Marcia Ball adds some lively piano fills behind the three guitarist’s imaginative leads, the undeniable influence of Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown lying heavy on the performance.
Lone Star Shootout
“Feel Good Doin’ Bad” is another new track, penned by Brooks in the style of Lightnin’ Slim’s Louisiana-bred Excello Records releases. Brooks takes the microphone for this one, laying down a blustery vocal take that he supports with an electrifying lead full of energy and gorgeous tone. Hunter holds down the bottom end with his solid rhythm guitar while Mark “Kaz” Kazanoff throws in blasts of icy harp throughout the song, his harmonica ringing as clear as a train whistle. The delightful “Street Walking Woman” features Hunter and Walker, this song itself influenced by the great T-Bone Walker. Walker’s hearty drawl is perfectly suited for the lyrics, and he and Hunter swap hot licks until the finale when the two friends set into a six-string swordfight with rockin’ results.
Although there are only three guitarists listed on the marquee for Long Star Shootout, longtime Gulf Coast bluesman Ervin Charles crashes the party with a pair of great performances. A former early 1950s bandmate of Hunter’s, and the elder musician of the bunch, Charles steps into the spotlight for “Born In Louisiana.” A smoldering, slow-paced blues tune with Charles’ tearjerker vocals and taut, muscular fretwork, assisted by Osbourn’ well-timed piano, Charles delivers a superlative, emotionally-charged performance. A spirited cover of Muddy Waters’ “Two Trains Running” places Charles and Hunter back together again, Ervin delivering haunting vocals above a hypnotic riff and Long John picking out a provocative lead before the two guitars intertwine into a single voice, the sound of Texas blues.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
Fans of blues guitar who still haven’t discovered this incredible album, originally released in 1999, owe it to themselves to grab a copy of Lone Star Shootout sooner rather than later. Brooks, Hunter, Walker, and Charles deliver the real goods, the unique sound of the Gulf Coast fusing the roughneck, houserockin’ style of Texas blues with the soulful, R&B influenced sound of the Louisiana swamp. With four talented string-benders in the studio, and fifteen excellent performances, Lone Star Shootout is as close as you’ll get to that Port Arthur juke joint experience without actually travelling back in time. (Alligator Records, released May 25, 1999)
That rush of blood to your brain that floods all coherent thought; that not-so-subtle, hammerlike throbbing that begins between your temples; the all-pervasive aura of gloom that drowns your psyche…those are the hallmarks of classic “black” metal. There is just no escaping the awesome power, the prurient attraction of black metal at its most extreme, the pulse-pounding, fear-inducing scream of the guitar and accompanying primal vocals.
There is some skill in performing black metal…it takes an instrumental virtuoso with an ebony-hued heart to spit out songs as overpowering as the best black metal. Influenced by late ‘70s/early ‘80s speed-metal and thrash, by bands like Metallica and Motorhead, and even by itself with originators like Venom and Celtic Frost, black metal is the musical phenomena that refuses to go quietly into that dark night…
Fenriz Presents The Best of Old-School Black Metal
When black metal legend Fenriz of the band Darkthrone decided to put together Fenriz Presents the Best of Old-School Black Metal, he gathered up tracks from some of the meanest, scariest, and most bad-ass metal monsters on the planet. The resulting disc is a real Frankenstein compilation, a piecing together of some of the best (and most diverse) bands from the black metal world. Sure, some of these choices would be a slam-dunk even from somebody with only a passing familiarity of extreme heavy metal. Mercyful Fate, represented here by the raging guitars and rampaging rhythms of “Evil,” is one such easy choice, as is Celtic Frost, the dark majesty of the band’s “Dawn of Megiddo” playing like a grand funeral dirge. Venom gave the genre its name and defined the music for a generation afterwards; the band’s deadly song “Warhead” is an unrelenting blast of sheer explosive fury.
Other song choices provided here by Fenriz will thrill even the most hardcore collector of arcane death-and-black-metal. Sodom’s “Burst Command Til War” is exceptionally brutal, a jackhammer guitar riff driving home the vocals like an icepick jammed in your ear. Samael’s “Into the Pentagram” is equal parts Sabbath sludge and flesh-rending Slayer riffs while Bulldozer’s “Whiskey Time” grinds the listener into submission with pounding drumbeats and razor-sharp six-string work. Fenriz had to dig deep into the crypt for “The Third of the Storms,” a seminal black metal cut by Tom Warrior’s pre-Celtic Frost band Hellhammer. With Warrior’s impressive fretwork and a low-fi production that underemphasizes the already-buried vocals (creating a hypnotic aural assault), this rare track is a real treat for Celtic Frost fans.
Mayhem & Burzum
The long and tragic history between Scandinavian legends Mayhem and Burzum is well-documented, and neither band has lent songs to compilation albums before. However, Mayhem’s “The Freezing Moon” illustrates the long reach of the band’s influence, the song’s glorious sound a mix of soaring guitars, machine-gun rhythms, and guttural vocals. Burzum’s electronic-tinged “Ea, Lord of the Deeps” introduces typically unfamiliar elements into the black metal lexicon, the song a mix of thrashy death metal and industrial metal influences. Fittingly enough, the album closes with Bathory’s powerful “Dies Irae,” a chaotic clash of tightwire guitarwork and propulsive rhythms driving frontman Quorthon’s vocals into the realm of madness. Sadly, Quorthon (Thomas Forsberg) – one of the most influential figures in the European death/black metal scene – died too young in June 2004 of heart failure.
The lyrical subject matter is typically gruesome, the artist’s perspective on life usually macabre, the music almost always as abrasive as hell. Black metal exists, however, as a shared rumination on life and death between the artist and the fans. The genre is an obsessive reflection on the dark side of existence created by musical philosophers on society’s fringe for consumption by teen-and-twenty-something year old fans that have often just experienced their first taste of tragedy. In this light, the music is a catharsis, the liberating soul of rock ‘n’ roll driven to its logical end under the whip of tortured guitars and howling vocals.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
Heavy metal in all its forms is once again building towards a mainstream audience. The often-maligned sub-genre of rock ‘n’ roll never really went anywhere, actually…it just disappeared underground, off the radar screen of the trend-oriented pundits of pop culture. As such, Fenriz has done new metal fans a large favor in compiling Fenriz Presents the Best of Old-School Black Metal. The album serves as an excellent introduction to this sub-sub-genre, offering crucial music from some of leading lights of black metal. If only for tracks from such controversial graybeards as Venom, Mayhem, and Burzum, the disc is well worth the price of admission. (Peaceville Records, released 2004)
Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine...
Legendary Seattle-based indie punk imprint C/Z Records has launched its very first webstore offering a slew of the label’s out-of-print albums as well as a few liver-quivering new titles that offer the C/Z legacy to a new generation of fans.
Started in 1985 by engineer/producer Chris Hanzsek and Tina Casale, C/Z Records hit the ground running with the 1986 release of the influential compilation album Deep Six. Collecting performances by Seattle-area bands like the Melvins, Soundgarden, Green River, Skin Yard, and others, Deep Six was the earliest documentation of the sound that would become known as ‘grunge’ a few years later when the Seattle scene conquered the world.
Unfortunately, Deep Six was about five years ahead of its time, and when the disc didn’t sell, Hanzsek and Casale decided to concentrate on their recording studio and sold the label to Skin Yard bass player Daniel House, the madman responsible for the label’s current resurrection. After the early ‘90s grunge explosion that was ignited by bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden, Deep Six would be reissued in 1994 through a deal with A&M Records.
During his tenure at the helm of C/Z Records, House proved to have an ear for rock ‘n’ roll talent, the label releasing groundbreaking (and influential) records by artists as diverse as the Gits, 7 Year Bitch, 10 Minute Warning, Love Battery, Built To Spill, Skin Yard, Monks of Doom, and the Presidents of the United States of America, among other artists. A series of various major label distribution deals brought the label’s vision to the average consumer but by the early 2000s, House reduced the label to part-time status.
The C/Z Records webstore offers a wide selection of the label’s releases, including rare original versions that command collectors’ prices. There are some bargains, though, on some hard-rockin’ music. “It’s funny that I’ve worked professionally in web development and e-commerce integration for so many years, and somehow never extended this skillset to my own czrecords.com website. That’s now changed!” C/Z Records President Daniel House states in a press release for the new webstore. “I have a garage full of inventory, and prior to making it available online, it’s been hard to find. I’m so psyched to finally provide the opportunity for fans to access that inventory, and most of it is on sale at super low prices. I’d much rather get the music out there instead of collecting dust.”
The website also offers the aforementioned new releases, including the limited-edition Skin Yard Select 7x7 box set and long-lost recordings circa 1984 from 10 Minute Warning, probably the earliest of the grunge bands that would put Seattle on the rock ‘n’ roll map. The webstore offers some cool CD bargains, too, like the $15 three-disc Alcohol Funnycar bundle, or bundles of CDs by bands like Treepeople and Porn Orchard. Quantities of some of these releases are limited and no new re-pressings are planned by House, so get thee hence to the C/Z Records webstore and get your grunge groove on!
At the time, it seemed to be an intriguing collaboration between two of rock music’s most interesting “artistes.” The reality of 1973’s No Pussyfooting, however, left many fans perplexed. The initial pairing of King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp and former Roxy Music gadget wrangler Brian Eno ended up being a little of the best of both and, yet, something of neither.
The experimental trappings of No Pussyfooting, recorded while Eno was working on his solo debut, Here Come the Warm Jets, would be the first steps by the future superstar producer towards the creation of what he would term “ambient music.” Using what would become known as “Frippertronics” – a seemingly endless tape loop spinning through infinite delays – it would lay down a foundation of sound on which Fripp would embroider his spacey six-string figures and Eno would add jolts of synthesizer.
Fripp & Eno’s No Pussyfooting
This, then, is the total of No Pussyfooting, two intricate and mind-blowing compositions, each representing a breathtaking exploration of sound and electronics. “The Heavenly Music Corporation” is the better of the two, taking many more death-defying leaps of faith, but “Swastika Girls” has its charms, particularly when Eno coaxes an orgiastic sigh from what sounds like an oscillator.
Fripp’s fretwork on “The Heavenly Music Corporation” is simply mesmerizing, the guitarist stretching out and taking chances, the resulting sound a terrifying mix of prog-rock, heavy metal, and outer-space pyrotechnics that would influence a generation of punters to follow. Accompanied by Eno’s perfectly-timed punctuations of synth, the result is a glorious din. “Swastika Girls” sounds more laboratory-bred, with a colder vibe and more interplay between electronics and guitar wankery.
Legend has it that British deejay John Peel once accidently played No Pussyfooting backwards on the air, the result of an incorrectly threaded reel-to-reel tape. The material proved to be as equally intriguing backwards as it was forwards, and this deluxe two-disc reissue of the album includes reversed versions of both “The Heavenly Music Corporation” and “Swastika Girls” for those wishing to relive the experience. The second disc here also includes a half-speed version of the former, a dirge-like 42-minute curiosity that reminds one of a slowly-poured, molasses-speed DJ Screw production, sans vocal rhymes, of course...
Fripp & Eno’s Evening Star
Two years after No Pussyfooting, the pair would create Evening Star, a mix of the previous album’s Frippertronics (especially the 28-minute “An Index of Metals”) and shorter, atmospheric experimentations similar to those that Eno would create with German avant-gardists Cluster a couple of years hence. Listening to the album again after many years, it’s obvious that Evening Star, even more so than No Pussyfooting, was the precursor to the rise of “new age” and space music in the ‘80s.
Whereas the pastoral “Wind On Water” provides nothing but pure Baroque ambience, the brilliant, shining title track is a marvelous pastiche of gentle tones and chiming synth drones set against Fripp’s masterful guitar imagery. Emotionally rich and hauntingly beautiful, the song is a one-in-a-million mutant hybrid of progressive rock and John Cage-inspired musical theory that succeeds beyond anybody’s wildest dreams.
Not that the rest of Evening Star is chopped liver, mind you. “Evensong” provides nothing less than a blueprint for new age music with its electronic drone and recurring riff-like themes, while “Wind On Wind” is a blustery, baritone-rich thunderstorm on a spring day. The extended work-out “An Index of Metals” provides a jarring conclusion to the album, the song weaving transparent waves of shimmering dissonance upon a cacophonic soundtrack of distorted guitar and squealing, albeit often melodic, synthesizers.
Less aggressive than No Pussyfooting, but no less inventive, Evening Star would be the last collaboration between Robert Fripp and Brian Eno for nearly thirty years. (Opal Records/DGM, both CDs reissued 2008)
Zappa fanboys have always been a cultish/fetishistic lot, rabidly scarfing up any and all product even remotely connected to F.Z., from multi-record box sets, books, and video compilations to imprinted towels, posters, and munchkin lunchboxes. This obsession is understandable, though, and thoroughly justified: in over two decades of performing, Zappa has proved himself a master showman, a vastly underrated guitarist, an inspired and fierce bandleader, and perhaps rock music’s greatest social satirist. It is for these aforementioned fans, who have kept Frank employed though some mighty dark years, that the massive documentary You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore series is intended.
Frank Zappa’s You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore, Volume 2
When completed, the series will contain more than 13 hours of playing time culled from almost 20 years of live material performed by Zappa and various incarnations of the Mothers of Invention. The series will be released on six double-CD set; for those without a compact disc player, multi-record box sets will be released. Recorded in every medium imaginable, from two-track analog to 24-track digital, the series will be an honest, no-dubs documentation of one of the most powerful creative artists in the field of rock music.
The volume in question here, a three-LP recording of the Mothers’ 1974 appearance in Helsinki, Finland is a 17-song, nearly two-hour collection of typically mesmerizing Zappa compositions, featuring what many consider to be one of the best Mothers line-ups (an argument that, of course, extends itself to nearly any Mothers line-up among the hardcore faithful), including keyboard wiz George Duke and saxophonist Napolean Murphy Brock. The early ‘70s were Zappa’s commercial zenith, and the material here, taken mostly from the successful Roxy & Elsewhere and Apostrophe albums, showcase Zappa’s trademark six-string pyrotechnics; complex, extended instrumental interludes; and wry, often scatological humor.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore, Volume 2 is an excellent collection, a must-have for the “I’ve already bought it” fan; for the uninitiated, it is a fascinating glimpse into the genius of one of rock’s most daring and influential elder statesmen. (Barking Pumpkin Records, released October 25th, 1988)
Review originally published by Nashville’s The Metro magazine...
I seem to be having a literal, classic love/hate relationship with Paul Weller. As the leading force behind the Jam, one of the British Isles’ finest musical imports ever, I adored just about every mod rocking note he and his mates cranked out. Some cuts, like “The Bitterest Pill” or “Down In the Tube Station At Midnight” are enduring classics, the legacy of a band that sadly never made much of an impression stateside.
Weller broke-up the Jam in order to prevent them from falling prey to the “aging boxer syndrome,” preferring the U.K. hitmakers to retire from the charts with their crowns intact than to hang around to hit bottom. His next musical project, the Style Council, cranked out a handful of soulful, R & B tinged British chart-toppers before sliding into what can only be called insipid lounge jazz, not even suitable musical fare for your local Ramada Inn. It was here that the hate part of the relationship began to grow.
Wild Wood, Weller’s “solo” debut partially redeemed his music-making reputation in these eyes, but the recently-released Stanley Road flirts again with brilliance. Weller’s vocals sound more soulful and passionate than they have in years, resembling a vintage, early 1970s-era Joe Cocker. The songs to be found on Stanley Road are a pleasant enough lot, ranging from straight-ahead rock ‘n’ roll to R & B inflected, Ray Charles-ish ravers. Weller seems to have returned to his musical roots, and he’s done well by it. Cuts like “Porcelain Gods,” “Woodcutter’s Son,” or “Broken Stones” show the hand of the maturing artist, and may easily represent Weller’s strongest songwriting efforts to date. Stanley Road may or may not connect with an increasingly anglophobic U.S. record-buying public, but it’s a solid album nonetheless, Weller a complex artist who obviously still has a trick or two remaining hidden up his creative sleeve. (Go! Discs, released May 1995)
Review originally published by Review & Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll (R.A.D!) zine...
Dream Syndicate frontman Steve Wynn has been a busy lil’ rock ‘n’ roller over the past couple of years, publishing the first volume of his autobiography (highly recommended!), releasing albums by the Baseball Project (2023’s exquisite, Mitch Easter-produced Grand Salami Time!) and the sublime 2024 solo LP Make It Right. With a little help from producer Pat Thomas, Wynn even found the time to work on this nifty, four-CD deluxe 40th anniversary box set of Dream Syndicate’s 1984 album, Medicine Show that includes everything a Syndicate fanatic might want and/or expect from this period of the enduring band’s career.
Dream Syndicate’s Medicine Show
I’ve always felt that Medicine Show was vastly underrated and too-often overshadowed by the band’s raved-about, Velvet Underground-inspired debut, The Days of Wine and Roses. Medicine Show was Dream Syndicate’s sophomore effort, but also their major label debut, represented here by disc one. Originally produced by Sandy Pearlman (best known for his work with Blue Öyster Cult), Medicine Show was slagged by critics and fair-weather fans alike for being too, well…different sounding (*gasp*) than the band’s debut. Too slick, too well-produced, too, too…you get the picture.
Never mind that damn near every album Pearlman produced was unfairly assaulted by the music media at the time for some damn reason or another (especially the Clash’s Give ‘Em Enough Rope). Critics disregarded the uncomfortable fact that Pearlman coaxed some pretty good performances from his wards, shining them up for commercial FM radio and doubtful label execs, but leaving enough jagged edges that the listener risked cutting themselves. Aside from the nearly-perfect first three BÖC albums, Pearlman-produced gems include the aforementioned second Clash album, the Dictators’ excellent Manifest Destiny and Bloodbrothers LPs, and Pavlov Dog’s pioneering Pampered Menial and At the Sound of the Bell.
John Coltrane Stereo Blues
The same creative vision that Pearlman brought to the aforementioned titles carried over to Medicine Show, which comes out of left field, cranks up the guitars, and delivers a dense, discordant, and sometimes challenging listen that pushed against the preconceived barriers inherent in ‘80s-era rock ‘n’ roll and opened the door for ‘90s grunge and alternative bands to stroll through with enough street cred to grab major label deals of their own. Sure, it took Wynn’s Velvet Underground obsession to darker, gloomier, and doomier environs, but by unleashing his musical id, it reconfigured the band’s sonic footprint laterally to the left-hand path, but it also expanded his songwriting palette in much the way that I expect that Lou Reed felt after the first VU outing.
I’ve always considered Medicine Show to be Dream Syndicate’s “noir” album and, over the years, have probably listened to it as much or more than any of the band’s other efforts. There are some real bangers in these grooves, songs like “Still Holding On To You,” “Armed With An Empty Gun,” “Bullet With My Name On It,” “The Medicine Show,” and the squonky, wonderful guitar jam “John Coltrane Stereo Blues.” The disc includes three bonus tracks, including both a live version and a studio outtake of “John Coltrane Stereo Blues” as well as a cool solo acoustic performance of the title track.
This Is Not the New Dream Syndicate Album…Live!
No, the band didn’t hit every bullseye with Medicine Show, and some of their efforts fell short of critics’ expectations, but they took a chance and even if it didn’t sell much at the time, there are many good reasons why we’re still talking about the album 40 years later. It sounds unlike just about anything else released during the decade, and that’s a good thing! The second disc of Medicine Show’s 40th anniversary box includes an expanded version of the band’s This Is Not the New Dream Syndicate Album…Live! five-song EP, also released in 1984, and recorded during the Medicine Show tour.
The band was more comfortable with the new tunes, and it shows, the box presenting the full WXRT-FM concert in Chicago with two additional tracks, including a killer live take of “The Days of Wine and Roses.” Several other bonus tracks beyond that concert offer various live (1984) versions of “John Coltrane Stereo Blues” (not a problem, as every performance provides new dimensions), “Bullet With My Name On It,” and “Witness” as well as a lo-fi rehearsal outtake of “Weathered and Torn,” a bluesy, Stones-adjacent romp that is easy to imagine Mick singing.
What Is And What Should Never Be
Disc three really amps up the excitement with “The Road To Medicine Show,” a previously-unreleased live set from CBGB’s in NYC circa 1983 that offers pre-Medicine Show workouts of several songs that would feature on the LP as well as a muscular, feedback-drenched cover of the last good Eric Clapton song, “Let It Rain,” that sounds absolutely Goth. Wynn’s vocals here more closely resemble Robert Smith than ol’ “Slowhand,” the song also offering up some tasty guitarplay. A reverent take on Bonnie Dobson’s folk classic “Morning Dew” starts out with just Wynn’s plaintive vocals before the guitars razorblade their way through the dense mix to noisily punctuate the song’s lyrics. Disc four, “What Is And What Should Never Be,” is an odds ‘n’ sods collection of previously unreleased live tracks from 1983/84 and includes a couple of rehearsal tapes with fan favorite bassist Kendra Smith.
There are some surprises here, but only a few that truly excite, and the sound quality varies from venue to venue. A somber cover of Dale Hawkin’s “Susie Q” is a little too staid for my tastes, but the band’s take on “Evil Ways” incorporates jazzier vibes than the band’s usual fare, falling somewhere in-between Willie Bobo’s 1967 original and Santana’s better-known recording a couple of years later. BÖC’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” is a cheeky choice in cover songs, considering the band’s (then) future association with Pearlman, but the performance’s revved-up and cacophonic delivery (Austin TX version) is both fiercer and punkier than the original. Their cover of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Born On the Bayou” is swamp-blues at its finest – dense, murky, unpredictable – you can almost smell the Spanish Moss growing on the Cypress trees.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
My feelings about Medicine Show aside, the album’s 40th anniversary box provides a lot of bang for your buck – four CDs and 42 songs, including two discs of completely unreleased Dream Syndicate material – all for less than $14 per CD (with shipping from Bandcamp), which is a heck of a better deal than Springsteen’s recent Tracks II box set (seven CDs, $231 on Amazon, $33 per CD?!!). Packaged in a hardback book with liner notes, band commentary, and lots of photos, it’s truly a “deluxe” presentation.
For the dedicated Dream Syndicate fan, Steve Wynn and Pat Thomas have done an impressive job of documenting the band’s history circa 1983-84 with this expansive collection of studio and live recordings, their efforts resurrecting an underrated album from potential obscurity and extending the band’s growing legacy with a wealth of electrifying live tracks. The Medicine Show 40th anniversary box is what all retrospective reissues should aspire to… (Down There Records, released September 17th, 2025)
Way back when, during the glory days of American alternative rock, in the early moments of a Reagan era that seemed to spawn such things, came forth legendary bands like Hüsker Dü, The Replacements, and Soul Asylum. Preceeding all of these, however, was the Suburbs. The first of many bands to come from the much-vaunted early ‘80s Minneapolis music scene, The ‘Burbs were a product of both English new wave and good old-fashioned U.S. punk. A handful of albums on a like number of labels brought the band heaps of critical acclaim but only modest commercial success. The Suburbs sadly faded away before the end of the decade.
History seems to have passed the Suburbs by. As lesser lights get their own tribute discs and homage paid them by the cream of the pop charts, the Suburbs’ influence is heard, more than felt, in the present-day world of alternative music. The band mixed punkish intensity with new wave sensibilities and were never afraid to cross musical genres, throwing in a white-hot funk number here, a soulful horn arrangement there, every song always delivered with a great deal of energy and vigor.
With the release of Viva! Suburbs! (Live At First Avenue), the band has come back to Twin Tone Records where they began, and you fanboys are afforded a second chance to grab onto one of the greatest unknown bands of the last decade. Recorded live at the legendary First Avenue Club in Minneapolis during a 1993 reunion, this 20 track, hour plus set includes all of The Suburbs’ best-known material as well as a pair of brand-new, never-before-heard cuts.
The Suburbs’ built their own little myth around songs like “Waiting,” “Every Night’s A Friday In Hell,” “Love Is the Law,” and “Rattle My Bones,” and they run through this set of songs like it was 1983 again and they were on top of the world. Viva! Suburbs! is highly recommended...grab it before some wet-behind-the-ears alternative band covers “Cig Machine” or “Drinkin’ With An Angel” and all that old Suburbs’ vinyl now gathering dust in the $1 bins begin fetching collector’s prices. Don’t come cryin’ to me when it happens... (Twin Tone Records, released 1994)
Review originally published by Review & Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll (R.A.D!) zine...
Who would have thunk it, eh? Concept albums, by their very nature, are increasingly passe...after all, in a music world that runs the gamut from rock to rap, metal, thrash, hardcore punk...what is there that we haven’t seen? Well, how about alternative favorite The The releasing an album of Hank Williams songs? After all, if you look at Hank’s life, his rebel attitude, his obstinate refusal to compromise his artistic brilliance, the arrests and his tragic youthful death, hell, Williams had more cajones than a lot of today’s alternative idols.
Hanky Panky is exactly that, a collection of Hank Williams covers delivered perfectly by Britain’s The The. Matt Johnson, the brains behind the band, has done his homework well, brilliantly selecting an inspired list of Williams’ classics. Cuts like “I’m A Long Gone Daddy,” “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” and “I Saw the Light” receive a rather reverent treatment, Johnson’s echoing vocals representing the technologically-enhanced nineties equivalent of Williams’ hillbilly twang. The cuts are fat with sound and life, altering only the song’s arrangements, not their underlying emotion or poetic accomplishments. It’s an experiment that works, Hanky Panky an excellent tribute to one of the music world’s greatest artists. (550 Music/Epic Records, released February 14th, 1995)
Review originally published by Review & Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll (R.A.D!) zine...
I first saw Faith No More some 7 or so years ago, around the time of their first disc, when “We Care A Lot” was on its way to becoming steady college FM fare. They played here in Nashville at a well-known club on a Thanksgiving night, opening for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The two bands rocked the small club, a mosh pit was in full force, and my brother and myself, bolstered by several pitchers of cheap beer, tried to pick up a couple of leather-clad female beauties who were stationed smack dab in front of the right speaker column. Turns out that the lovely duo had their eyes on the band, however, and dragged Faith No More to their West Nashville abode for an evening of Nyquil intoxication and who knows what else. I ended up going to work the next morning with a dreadful hangover and significant hearing loss, but also, strangely, happy.
Faith No More made a name for themselves by cranking out a funky blend of hardcore and hard rock on stages in small clubs a couple of hundred nights a year. Their albums, no matter how good they might have been, took a back seat to their awesomely intense live performances. With King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime, Faith No More head into a slightly different musical direction. They don’t entirely turn their backs on the chunky metallic hooks, roaring six strings and manic vocals that earned them a solid rep, but rather add an exciting bit of experimentation to the pot alongside their traditional rock frenzy.
“The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” mixes a hard Peter Gunn-styled guitar undercurrent to what is almost a jazzy, big band arrangement with swinging vocals while “Evidence” is a low-key ballad with a soulful, slightly funky backing rhythm. Cuts like “Cuckoo For Caca,” with its random syncopation and wild vocals, or “Digging The Grave,” chockful of harried guitar riffs and shouted lyrics return the band to their traditional roots. Overall, however, King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime represents an important musical departure for Faith No More, one that serves them well, showcasing a more mature and more polished outfit. Bet the material would sound great live, too! (Slash Records, released March 28th, 1995)
Review originally published by Bone Music Magazine...
Since his electrifying live 1994 debut album, Tommy Castro has rocked the blues music world with his powerful vocals, fiery fret-bashing, and signature “rock-n-soul” sound. Over the course of seven studio albums and a pair of live rockets, Castro and his crew have become one of the genre’s premiere houserockin’ bands, with such musical legends as B.B. King and Carlos Santana singing their praises. With the release of Painkiller, his tenth album, Castro has delivered a seriously rocking, once-in-a-lifetime achievement.
Castro and crew crank it up from the first note with the chooglin’ “Love Don’t Care.” With a stabbing guitar riff and some mighty fine horn-blowin’, the band breaks into a vaguely Latin-flavored rhythm as T.C. croons his soul-blues lyrics concerning Cupid’s lack of consideration. A brief lick taken straight from the Chuck Berry playbook opens the lush, big-band R&B revue-styled “I’m Not Broken,” Tony Stead’s nimble-finger ivory-bashing bringing a Jerry Lee vibe to the song’s bluesy roots.
Tommy Castro’s Painkiller
The album’s title track is a soaring blues-rocker with top flight hornplay, a passionate vocal turn by Castro, a fast-walking rhythm, and a red-hot six-string solo in the middle to tie it all together. “Big Sister’s Radio” is a throwback to the early ‘60s, the sort of R&B-steeped roots-rocker that they were kicking out of the Crescent City studios at the time. Keith Crossan’s sax solo is especially effective, evoking memories of a simpler time and a more innocent world, a perfect match to the song’s nostalgic lyrics.
Guitarist Coco Montoya joins Castro on a delightful romp through Albert Collins’ “A Good Fool Is Hard To Find.” The two respected blues musicians swap vocals and compare notes with spry solos that display each man’s respective talents. It is, perhaps, the album’s high point: a raw, rockin’ cover of an already tuff-as-nails song. Things slow down a bit for the moody “Err On the Side of Love,” a silky-smooth number that perfectly recreates an early-1980s blue-eyed soul vibe. Castro’s seductive vocals are complimented by his otherworldly guitarplay.
The first few notes of a gale-force blast of funky sax let the listener know that “I Roll When I Rock” is going to be a blustery R&B rave-up, and Castro does not disappoint. The entire gang struts and swaggers through the song, the energetic rhythms nearly overshadowed by the cameo solo spotlights of guitar, saxophone, and piano. Guest vocalist Angela Strehli lends her considerable pipes to a particularly fine reading of the great Freddie King’s “If You Believe (In What You Do),” dueting with Castro and providing a bluesy sheen to the song’s slow-rocking roots.
“Goin’ Down South” mixes a barrelhouse piano undercurrent with Castro and Teresa James trading verses on the vocals on this Dixie-fried travelogue that name checks traditional music-oriented cities as Memphis, Tennessee; Austin, Texas; and San Diego, California. A dark-hued storm cloud descends on “Lonesome and Then Some,” a mournful tale of looking for love that features an appropriately winsome vocal performance set against a haunting keyboard backdrop. Castro’s fretwork here is stunning, capturing the song’s many shades of emotion.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
Every now and then even the most jaded music fan will find an album where all the pieces just fall into place. That’s the case with Painkiller, Tommy Castro and his band firing on all cylinders as they roll through this spirited collection of blues, rock, R&B, and soul. Producer John Porter (Buddy Guy, B.B. King, Santana) has created a bright, beautiful mix for these songs, allowing Castro’s charisma and the entire band’s talents to shine right through your speakers. Painkiller won a 2008 Blues Music Award as “Contemporary Blues Album of the Year,” and for good reasons…this album rocks! (Blind Pig Records, released February 2nd, 2007)
The Groundhogs, who hail from mid-’60s England, hardly even rate as a cult band on U.S. shores. A pair of critically-acclaimed releases during the dawn of the ‘70s – Thank Christ For the Bomb (1970) and Who Will Save the World? (1972) – were hits in the U.K. but flew beneath the radar on this side of the pond. The band’s track record speaks for itself, however: working with blues legend John Lee Hooker, kibitzing with John Mayall, better than four decades of recording and performing…but outside of a few red, white, and blues diehards, the Groundhogs have always been invisible in America, and are thus ripe for rediscovery by music lovers seeking a new flavor.
Groundhogs vocalist and guitarist Tony (T.S.) McPhee has been fronting the band seemingly since kindergarten. An old-school Brit blooze-rocker…one of the oldest, in fact…through the years he’s lead revolving line-ups through a variation of blues, hard rock, and psychedelic styles, sometimes with progressive overtones, but usually playing it straight down the (party) line. The Groundhogs’ Live At The Astoria DVD represents the band’s first full-length concert taping, the cameras capturing a 1998 show in support of their Howlin’ Wolf tribute CD, Hogs In Wolves’ Clothing. The double-disc set includes a CD of the concert as well, so you can take the ‘Hogs with you in the car, or slap it in your stereo for an instant good time.
“Eccentric Man” hits the listener between the ears like Cream on steroids, a heartbeat bassline and powderkeg drums ignited by McPhee’s six-string pyrotechnics. Longtime fan favorite “Split, Part 1,” from the band’s 1971 album of the same, is a vintage rocker with randomly-injected riffs, shifting time signatures, and surprisingly fluid fretwork balanced by screaming eagle solos. A blobby, lava-lamplike tapestry is projected on the wall behind the band, so that when McPhee launches into a whammy-bar-crazed solo, he sounds like a cross between Hendrix and Buckethead, with a Hawkwind chaser.
McPhee tries out his finest falsetto on an abbreviated reading of “Cherry Red,” swarming guitar notes blistering like the stings of an entire beehive, while “Still A Fool” is a greasy, slow-burning blues tune with plenty of built-up frustration and denial, and a bottom-heavy solo with notes as thick as a rhino’s hide. The band encores with its signature “Groundhog Blues,” a throbbing slice o’ Delta-inspired booger-rock that would do John Lee proud. With a heavy walking riff and salt-cured vocals, McPhee happily casts his lot with the long-gone ghosts at the Mississippi crossroads.
A merry band of musical luddites, the Groundhogs crank out the type of dino-stomp that went out-of-fashion with the loom, and doesn’t exist these days outside of the British Museum, on display beside the Rosetta Stone. McPhee and the lads seem to be more the pub type, though, and Live At The Astoria is a fine representation of the band’s timeless – and out-of-time – sound. (Eagle Rock Entertainment, released September 23rd, 2008)
Writer Stanley Booth is best-known for his 1984 book, Dance With the Devil, a chronicle of his time touring with the Rolling Stones. A frustrated novelist with an eye for detail, a naturally florid use of language, and a classic literary slant to his work, Booth’s best work has been in the field of music, especially the incredible essays that he wrote for publications like Esquire, Playboy, Rolling Stone, and the Village Voice, among others during the 1960s and ‘70s.
Booth’s Rythm Oil, subtitled “A journey through the music of the American South,” collects twenty of the writer’s best music-related pieces, the ambitious scope of the work covering everything from country blues and early rock ‘n’ roll to Memphis soul and 1970s-era blues-rock. Named for “rythm oil” [sic], an alchemical modern voodoo potion sold in the Beale Street shops of Memphis, the book itself is some sort of magical tome that really does provide a literary journey through the music of the time.
While Booth’s “Standing At the Crossroads,” an imaginative fictional flight of fancy that recounts Robert Johnson’s legendary meeting with the Devil, falls flat in its ambition, it’s the only hiccup that the reader will find in Rythm Oil. “Furry’s Blues” does a fine job of illustrating the poverty and racism experienced by country blues great Furry Lewis, while “Been Here and Gone,” Booth’s account of the funeral of Mississippi John Hurt, is poignant in its description of the event. “Blues Boy” offers a look into the life and career of the great B.B. King, while other chapters cover such artists as Al Green, Janis Joplin, Gram Parsons, James Brown, ZZ Top, and Elvis Presley.
Written with an autobiographical bent – Booth is an important participant in these stories – the format allows him to provide personal insight and emotion into the essays. Tying the music pieces together are strong articles that touch upon the city of Memphis, racism, and the South itself. Booth writes beautifully, with a real sympathy for his subjects, and no little knowledge of both the music and the history. If you want an entertaining education on both the South and its music, a snapshot of a certain time and place in pop culture history, Rythm Oil is the book for you. Highly recommended. (Da Capo Press, published October 1, 2000)
Although he sits comfortably outside of the “Top Five” of bootlegged artists, Frank Zappa has always been a favorite target of bootleggers, nonetheless. This fact particularly galled Zappa, who took great pride in bringing the same sort of intensity and passion to his live performances as he did to his studio recordings. In an attempt to try and “beat the boots” at their own game, Zappa even gathered up a number of fine, but unauthorized recordings of his work and released them himself through his association with Rhino Records. As a result, aside from the plethora of illegitimate recordings that continue to surface, there are a number of highly-recommended “authorized bootlegs” covering a significant portion of Zappa’s lengthy career, that are currently available through mainstream retailers.
Kreega Bondola, however, is not one of those releases, serving instead as a fine example of European bootleggery. A double CD set taken from a 1984 show at the Saratoga Performing Arts Centre, the release captures Zappa performing with one of the best of many bands he’d used throughout his career. The mid-‘80s were arguably the most prolific of Zappa’s 30+ years, as he developed and/or refined a number of themes that would continue to serve him well throughout the decade, including censorship, sexual politics and religious hypocrisy (aimed at the rising tide of televangelism). Releases of the era like Them or Us or Broadway the Hard Way, as well as his subsequent battle against the PMRC and Congressional testimony found the iconoclastic Zappa in the awkward position of being considered an “elder statesman” of rock. His relationship with the media at the time was an especially fragile one.
Little of the controversy that he was to become embroiled in is evident on Kreega Bondola. The performance is typical Zappa – incredibly tight, orchestrated, and well-choreographed. A lot of Zappa’s between song commentary has been “airbrushed” out in the studio, as has a lot of audience reaction to the material. You can hear the audience at times, but they’re kept very low in the mix (which isn’t necessarily bad, just extreme). As such, the band seems as if they’re performing in a vacuum. For the most part, the performances are short and succinct, seldom allowing Zappa and the band to cut loose and play. Zappa’s maestro-like mastery of the guitar kept on a short leash, FZ throwing a few bones to the audience in the way of solos, and only the title cut and “Illinois Enema Bandit” really showcase what the band was capable of musically with extended musical passages.
Overall, Kreega Bondola offers a good performance by a great artist and band. A soundboard recording, the sound quality here is top notch, with the mix leaning heavily towards the instrumentation and vocals. Although there’s little here to attract the casual rock fan, Kreega Bondola is a significant addition to any Zappa fan’s musical library. (Triangle Records, Italy, released 1997) Review originally published by R Squared zine, "Grey Edition"
