Archive Review: The Fabulous Thunderbirds’ Live (2001)

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

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

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

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

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

Dead Kennedys’ Mutiny On the Bay

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

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

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

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

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

Mad For The Racket’s The Racketeers

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

Wayne Kramer/MC5

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

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

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

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

Peter Tosh’s Live & Dangerous Boston 1976

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

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

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

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

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

Corporate Avenger’s Freedom Is A State of Mind

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

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

An Alternative History Lesson

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

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

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine 

 

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

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

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

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

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

The Strokes’ Is This It

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

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

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

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

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Cyndi Lauper's Twelve Deadly Cyns (1994)

I’ll never forget the first time that I heard Cyndi Lauper’s classic “Girls Just Want To Have Fun.” Friend Thom and myself were in a local electronics store looking at the brand-new Sony vertical turntables (yes, it was that long ago...). Back in those days, MTV was new to Nashville, and still a curiosity, so the store had one of their big screen televisions hooked up to cable and running the music network. From across the large showroom, I heard the first strains of the song, which pulled me in front of the screen. Thom soon joined me as the song, and its anarchic accompanying video, introduced us both to the talent of Ms. Cyndi Lauper.

Over a decade later, and “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” sounds every bit as wild, fresh, and wonderful as it did that afternoon in the hi-fi store. Lauper’s has her share of ups and downs since the early ‘80s, but she was – and is – no one hit wonder. A string of hits followed the success of “Girls Just Want To Have Fun,” great songs like “Money Changes Everything,” “Time After Time.” and “True Colors.” Lauper’s debut album, She’s So Unusual, went on to multi-platinum status, as did her sophomore effort, placing Lauper alongside Madonna as the dominant female artists of the decade. She went on to earn a fair degree of notoriety among fans of pro wrestling for her connection to Hulk Hogan and the WWF’s “Rock ‘N’ Wrestling” promotion before going “Hollywood” and sinking into the obscurity of bad film.

Lauper has been quietly orchestrating a comeback the past couple of years, with last year’s Hat Full of Stars album – as unrecognized as it was – being as fine an album as she’s ever recorded, proving again that Lauper sings as good as she ever has. The recent U.S. release of Twelve Deadly Cyns is a fine step towards a new appreciation of Lauper’s talents for, given my money, there are few artists recording today with her natural grasp of the style and substance of the classic pop/rock genre.

Released in Europe to a fair degree of commercial acceptance earlier this year, Twelve Deadly Cyns is a Lauper greatest hits album and more. All of the above-mentioned hits are present, as are other early Lauper gems like “She Bop,” “Change of Heart,” and “All Through the Night.” A mere handful of cuts are taken from her third and fourth albums, such as “I Drove All Night” from A Night To Remember and “That’s What I Think” from Hat Full of Stars. A couple of fine unreleased songs are thrown in, including an inspired revisiting of her trademark tune, titled “Hey Now (Girls Just Want To Have Fun).”

Even more so than her self-inflicted zany image and undeniably charismatic personality, Lauper’s immense vocal skills have always been her main selling point. Coupled with an almost otherworldly ability to pick and choose the best material from well-known as well as obscure songwriters like Tom Gray, Robert Hazard, and Essra Mohawk, Lauper reputation as a first class artist and performer deserves a long overdue rediscovery. Perhaps Twelve Deadly Cyns will lead the way to a well-deserved renewal of Lauper’s stalled career. (Epic Records, released 1994)

Review originally published by R.A.D! (Review and Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll) zine

Archive Review: Blind Willie Johnson’s Dark Was the Night (1998)

Although revered by folk and rock artists like Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, and Led Zeppelin, seldom does Blind Willie Johnson’s name come up in conversation when people talk about the giants of the blues. One reason for this, perhaps, is that Johnson’s songs hewed closer to the gospel roots of the blues than those of his musical contemporaries. Another reason for Johnson’s relative obscurity was his personal struggle for salvation that would cause him to turn his back on “the devil’s music.”

Regardless, Blind Willie Johnson’s catalog of songs – many derived from the church hymns of his youth – stand up alongside any of the early-era bluesmen, and have been covered by artists as diverse as the Rev. Gary Davis, Son House, Hot Tuna, and the Rolling Stones. Johnson’s haunting vocals often times mimic the glossolalia, the “speaking in tongues” of the fundamentalist church. Johnson also developed a unique and powerful slide-guitar technique that modern-day artists have tried to master for decades.

Blind Willie Johnson’s Dark Was the Night

A sixteen-song compilation that includes some of Blind Willie Johnson’s best performances, Dark Was the Night is part of Sony Legacy’s late ‘90s Mojo Workin’ series of blues releases. The album’s namesake, “Dark Was the Night (Cold Was the Ground)” is the heart of any Blind Willie Johnson compilation, the song included on a “sounds of the earth” recording that was shot into space with the Voyager One space probe. For good reasons, too, was this song chosen as one of humankind’s best moments to introduce to whatever life may exist elsewhere – Johnson’s performance here is as otherworldly as you get.

Recorded solo by Johnson in December 1928, the song opens with a weeping slide-guitar run that will chill your blood, followed quickly by Johnson’s mournful moan, a non-verbal expression of emotion that needs no words. By contrast, the gruff “Lord I Just Can’t Keep From Crying,” recorded in session just a couple of days later, is a fierce, determined gospel-blues foot-stomper that features Johnson’s roaring vocals rising above his serpentine slide playing. His wife, Willie B. Harris, provides higher-pitched backing vocals that stand in stark counterpoint to Johnson’s growling voice.

It’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine

Dark Was the Night features many of Johnson’s gospel-oriented tunes, which are uniformly graceful and dignified. Some stand out, though, exemplary performances like that of “Let Your Light Shine On Me,” recorded in 1929, sitting a little closer to traditional folk hymns while others, like the incredible “John the Revelator,” existing on an entirely higher level. With Harris once again accompanying, Johnson’s inspired vocals here truly jump out of the grooves to grab you by the ears. With just a perfunctory rhythm guitar soundtrack, Johnson delivers a powerful, feverish performance of the tradition song that would later inspire the great Son House to try and duplicate it on his own.

Johnson’s “It’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine” is one of his better-known songs and, since its release in 1928, has become a blues standard. Johnson’s vocals here are often slurred, reduced to grunting out the words with a religious fervor while his stellar guitar work sounds like a heavenly chorus. Although suffering somewhat by sub-standard sound…probably taken from an old 78rpm record rather than whatever master may have survived…“The Soul of A Man” is an upbeat, spiritually-charged essay on man’s place in this world, Johnson’s soulful, earthbound vocals complimented by Harris’s more ethereal harmonies.     

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

There are a number of Blind Willie Johnson compilation albums on the market, and although I personally consider Dark Was the Night to be one of the best available for sound quality and song selection, most any of ‘em will do if you’re looking to experience this gifted artist’s music. As long as the album you’re looking to buy includes a few key songs – “Dark Was The Night,” “It’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine,” and “John the Revelator” among them – then you can’t go wrong. More transcendent music doesn’t exist in the blues world, and Blind Willie Johnson’s mesmerizing slide-guitar work is second to none. (Legacy Recordings, released June 30th, 1998)

Archive Review: Jello Biafra & the Melvins’ Never Breath What You Can’t See (2004)

Over the past decade, punk rock icon Jello Biafra has become known by young audiences more for his incendiary spoken word performances than for the ground-breaking, earth-shaking rock ‘n’ roll that he once created with his band the Dead Kennedys. While you won’t see a DK reunion as long as Biafra and his former bandmates remain estranged and some former child actor fronts the band, with the Melvins backing him on Never Breathe What You Can’t See, who needs the past?

Jello Biafra & the Melvins’ Never Breath What You Can’t See

It’s good to hear Biafra jump back into the fray and kick out some righteous rock ‘n’ roll jams once again. While disciples like Anti-Flag and Corporate Avenger have taken the politically-edged punk that Biafra helped define to new extremes, Biafra remains a master of his craft. Never Breathe What You Can’t See cuts to the bone, Jello’s acerbic lyrics, skewed sense of humor and manic vocals providing a rush of fresh air that blows away the foul stench of “W” and his cronies. Biafra has never been afraid of baiting the powers that be, and his work here with the Melvins is no exception. What other rocker today would have the cajones to open a song with lyrics like “Thank you, Osama/You are the savior/Of our economy today” as Biafra does on “McGruff The Crime Dog?” Questioning the false sense of security provided in our homeland by color charts and anti-terror legislation that only fattens the corporate bottom line, Biafra asks “Why not hire half the country/To spy on the other half?”

The Melvins

 

The rest of Never Breathe What You Can’t See follows much the same line of thought, Biafra’s razor-sharp, wickedly satirical lyrics tackling such heady subjects as Christian fundamentalism, Conservative politics, America’s fawning consumerism and fascination with the wealthy. Jello’s bombastic verbiage wouldn’t hit nearly as hard if the music wasn’t strong; in the Melvins Biafra may well have found the perfect foils for his high-voltage performing style. Veterans of the early ‘90s great northwestern music industry gold rush that killed Kurt and cloned Eddie, the Melvins know a thing or two about creating a joyous noise, and they do so behind Biafra. King Buzzo’s guitars dance and sting like a horde of angry hornets while the explosive backing rhythm blasts out of your speakers like rubber bullets from a riot squad’s rifles.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

    
It’s interesting to note that Jello Biafra and the Dead Kennedys burst onto the hardcore punk scene at the dawn of the conservative Reagan era, mocking the institutions that America held dear with blistering three-chord abandon and reckless lyrics. With “King George” re-elected to another four years in office, now – more than ever – we need Jello Biafra and the unflagging spirit of defiance that his music represents. As biting as acid on the tongue and as relevant as tomorrow’s headlines, Never Breathe What You Can’t See is exactly what the doctor ordered to chase away your post-election blues. Hopefully this will be but the first of several collaborations between Biafra and the Melvins. (Alternative Tentacles, released 2004)

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

Archive Review: Alex Skolnick Trio's Transformation (2004)

Anyone who doubts the technical proficiency of metal guitarists or dismisses the efforts of musicians who choose to play in the heavy metal genre as no-talent hacks is just plain ignorant. As proven by Transformation, Alex Skolnick shuts down any arguments concerning the abilities of six-string shredders. Although he is best known as the former guitarslinger for thrash-metal cult faves Testament (and, to a lesser degree, Savatage), Skolnick has always been a jazzbo at heart. As such, Transformation – a collection of Skolnick originals blended with metal and prog-rock covers, all provided a modern jazz arrangement – is a fantastic showcase for Skolnick’s true passion and considerable talents.

The album opens with the title cut, a perfect introduction for that which follows. Skolnick and his band hit a loping groove, kind of a soft shuffle on top of which the guitarist lays down layer after dense layer of guitar. Skolnick’s rhythms and leads often clash, working at cross-purposes, creating an invigorating tension. You can’t really figure out where the song is going, and that’s a good thing. From here, Skolnick jumps into a Spanish-guitar flavored cover of Judas Priest’s “Electric Eye,” stripping the song down to its bare essentials and reinventing it as a spry instrumental work-out, sounding not dissimilar to some of Al DiMeola’s best work. Transformation’s other high points include “Fear of Flying,” a lush instrumental with swelling cymbals and drum fills; a bass-heavy reading of Pink Floyd’s “Money,” Skolnick’s leads approximating David Gilmour’s vocals; and a fast-paced, wild cover of Deep Purple’s “Highway Star.” Skolnick and his trio also offer “transformed” tunes by Scorpions and Dio alongside their spirited original jams.

Skolnick’s band – the other two members of the “trio” – includes Nathan Peck, who provides a solid double-bass rhythm beneath the guitarist’s six-string wizardry, and drummer Matt Zebroski, who adds significantly to the sound here with his strong, subtle percussion work. They are talented players, no doubt, but first and foremost this is Alex Skolnick’s show. The guitarist stretches his talents, embroidering each song on Transformation with an indelible energy and performance. If you’re a metalhead who knows Skolnick primarily for his rock & roll guitarwork, you owe it to yourself to expand your horizons and listen to the musical possibilities explored by Alex Skolnick with his piece of wood and string. If you open your ears, you might just be amazed at the power and grace of Transformation. (Magnatude Records, released 2004)

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

Archive Review: The Gossip's Undead In NYC (2003)

Although the Reverend has vintage bootlegs in his collection with better sound quality than Undead In NYC, there’s no denying the power and the passion of the Gossip’s performance. Kicking out mutant punk blooze with a whiskey edge and an amphetamine heart, the Gossip’s secret weapon is singer Beth Ditto. Ditto’s sweaty, leather-lunged vocals rise above the muddy mix to grab the listener by the ears and shake ‘em out of their major label induced coma. Axeman Nathan Howdeschell rails at the world with all the subtlety of the Mississippi River breaking through its levees and flooding the Delta.

With Ditto’s vocals lost in the din, and her lyrical obsessions with love and lust all but indecipherable, the band rocks like a drunken fratmonkey and the audience’s obvious enthusiasm is contagious. A raucous cover of the Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” performed with friends from Chromatics, quickly spirals out of control and into chaos before ending in an orgy of feedback and clashing instrumentation. Undead In NYC may not be the best example of the Gossip’s charms but it does show that 30 minutes is all it takes for this Arkansas trio to rock your world. (Dim Mak Records)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat music zine, 2003

Remembering Dave Cousins & Strawbs

Photo courtesy strawbsweb.co.uk

British folk-rock innovator Dave Cousins passed away on Sunday, July 13th, 2025 after a lengthy illness; he was 85 years old.

Cousins is best known as the frontman and creative force behind the Strawbs, the ground-breaking and influential 1970s-era British rock band. Cousins and the Strawbs took on many faces over the years. The band’s first incarnation was as the Strawberry Hill Boys, a traditional bluegrass band formed in 1964 by Cousins, guitarist Tony Hooper, and bassist John Berry, who would later be replaced by double-bass player Ron Chesterman. 

The band changed its name to the Strawbs for a 1967 concert, and gradually began to move towards an original folk-rock sound fueled by Cousins’ imaginative lyrical prowess. The trio added singer Sandy Denny to the group and recorded 13 songs in Denmark for a proposed debut album, All Our Own Work. When the band couldn’t find a record deal in the U.K. Denny left to join Fairport Convention. All Our Own Work was later released in 1973 by budget label Pickwick Records, the album including one of Denny’s most beloved songs, “Who Knows Where the Time Goes?,” which she later re-recorded with Fairport Convention.

The Strawbs were the first British band signed to the American A&M Records label, the trio releasing their self-titled debut album in 1969, accompanied in the studio by bassist John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin) and pianist Nicky Hopkins. The Strawbs followed up its debut a year later with the critically-acclaimed Dragonfly, after which Chesterman left the band. The Strawbs expanded its sound, adding keyboardist Rick Wakeman, bassist John Ford, and drummer Richard Hudson for the mostly live album Just a Collection of Antiques and Curios, which was the band’s first charting album, peaking at #27 in the U.K.

After recording 1971’s From the Witchwood, Wakeman left the Strawbs to join Yes, replaced by keyboardist Blue Weaver for the band’s 1972 breakthrough, Grave New World. Peaking at #11 on the U.K. charts and inching onto the Billboard ‘Top 200’ albums chart stateside, songs like Cousins’ “Benedictus” and Ford’s “Heavy Disguise” received heavy FM radio airplay. Feeling that the band was moving away from folk and deeper into rock ‘n’ roll, Hooper left after the release of Grave New World, replaced by guitarist Dave Lambert of the psych-rock band Fire.

During a short summer hiatus, Cousins recorded his 1972 solo album, Two Weeks Last Summer, with guest musicians like Deep Purple’s Roger Glover, Miller Anderson of the Keef Hartley Band, and Jon Hiseman from Colosseum as well as members of the Strawbs. Underpromoted by A&M, the album failed to chart on either side of the Atlantic. Returning to the Strawbs, Cousins pursued a harder-rocking, almost proggy sound for 1973’s Bursting At the Seams, scoring hit singles in the U.K. with Cousins’ “Lay Down” and the Hudson/Ford song “Part of the Union.” The album proved to be their most commercially successful, hitting #2 in the U.K. while also charting in the U.S. and Canada. Tensions grew during the album’s supporting tour, however; afterwards Hudson and Ford left to form the pop-oriented Hudson Ford band while Weaver went to work for the Bee Gees. 

Cousins and Lambert recruited keyboardist John Hawken of the Nashville Teens and Renaissance along with bassist Chas Cronk and drummer Rod Coombes of Juicy Lucy. This is the line-up that recorded 1974’s classic Hero and Heroine and 1975’s Ghosts, the former being the last Strawbs’ album to chart in the U.K. while the latter achieved the band’s highest position on the U.S. chart, rising to #47 as the band toured heavily in North America. Released in late 1975, Nomadness found critical acclaim but continued the band’s commercial slide; it was their last album for A&M Records.

The band’s tenth album, 1976’s Deep Cuts, was released exclusively in the U.K. by Deep Purple’s Oyster Records imprint, while the following year’s Burning For You was picked up for North American distribution by Polydor Records. Cousins intended Burning For You to be the band’s swansong, but the band’s management got them a deal with Arista Records and the singer was convinced by label head Clive Davis to record one more album. Working with an unsympathetic producer for 1978’s Deadlines – one who Cousins felt didn’t understand the band – the Strawbs recorded Deadlines in Dublin, Ireland.

Disaster struck when the tapes for Deadlines were almost entirely accidentally erased; Strawbs re-recorded the songs, but as Cousins stated in the liner notes for the album’s CD reissue, the new performances failed to capture the unique flavor of the original recordings. The Strawbs completed a second Arista album in 1978, Heartbreak Hill, recorded largely without Lambert, who was working on a solo album. When Cousins decided in 1980 to leave Strawbs and get into the radio industry, the album was shelved and remained unreleased until 1995. Cousins recorded a second solo album, Old School Songs, in 1979 with guitarist Brian Willoughby. 

Invited to headline the 1983 Cambridge Folk Festival, the Strawbs’ Grave New World line-up reunited to perform with Willoughby on guitar in place of Lambert. The reunion led to a 1987 album, Don’t Say Goodbye, released by the band’s own Strawberry Hill Productions label. It was fairly quiet for the Strawbs during the ‘90s, the band releasing a single album – 1991’s Ringing Down the Years – and touring the U.K. in 1993 in celebration of their 25th anniversary. Cousins’ second album with Willoughby, The Bridge, was released in 1994. Cousins staged a 30th anniversary Strawbs reunion performance at Chiswick Park in London in 1998, which led to a relatively prolific and productive period for the band, versions of which (“Acoustic Strawbs” and “Electric Strawbs”) toured the U.K. and North America throughout the early 2000s.

The Strawbs and Cousins were both busy in the studio during this period. Cousins released a number of acclaimed solo albums, including 2002’s Hummingbird (with Rick Wakeman), 2005’s High Seas (with German guitarist Conny Conrad), 2007’s The Boy In the Sailor Suit (with Miller Anderson), 2008’s Secret Paths, and the live 2008 set Duochrome (with violinist Ian Cutler), all distributed through the Cousins’ own Witchwood Media label. The Strawbs were no slackers during this period, either, the acoustic version of the band comprised of Cousins, Willoughby, and Lambert releasing 2001’s Baroque & Roll. 

Strawbs’ 2003 album Blue Angel featured new material alongside re-worked versions of Cousins’ solo songs and 1970s-era Strawbs tunes. The album also featuring a literal Strawbs’ “Hall of Fame” of bandmembers, including Lambert, Willoughby, Blue Weaver, Richard Hudson, Chas Cronk, and Rod Coombes. The band’s 16th studio LP, 2004’s, Déjà Fou, brought John Hawkens back into the fold, and was followed by critically-acclaimed fare like Painted Sky (2006), The Broken Hearted Bride (2008), Dancing To the Devil’s Beat (2009 and featuring Rick’s son Oliver Wakeman on keyboards), Hero & Heroine In Ascencia (2011), the band’s previously-unreleased debut album Of A Time (2012), Prognostic (2014), The Ferryman’s Curse (2017), and Settlement (2021) as well as a number of live performance albums.

The Strawbs toured the U.S. in 2019 in celebration of the band’s 50th anniversary, including a three-day event in New Jersey that included former members and friends of the band like Annie Haslam (Renaissance), Larry Fast (Synergy), and singer/songwriter Wesley Stace. Cousins released his autobiography, Exorcising Ghosts: Strawbs and Other Lives, in 2014 and retired from live performances at the end of 2021 due to health reasons. 

When South African filmmaker Niel van Deventer contacted Cousins about creating a Strawbs documentary, the director wanted to film the recording of new songs at a studio in Cape Town. These sessions, featuring Cousins, Blue Weaver, and John Ford resulted in the final Strawbs’ album, 2023’s The Magic of It All. Released by U.K. label Cherry Red Records, who had bought the entire Strawbs catalog, van Deventer’s documentary film will be completed sometime in the future. Cousins and Strawbs performed their final concert in August 2023.

Dave Cousins had a unique creative vision and performance style, and he managed to record a massive body of impressive work that spans seven decades and better than two dozen live and studio albums. In my dealings with the artist, he was also the consummate British gentleman, wryly humorous and as enchanting as Strawbs’ music. He will be missed by the band’s loyal worldwide legion of fans...

 

Archive Review: Velvet Crush's Free Expression (2003)

Velvet Crush is one of those great little pop/rock outfits that continuously cranks out choice tuneage with little or nothing gained in the way of commercial success, fame, or even respect, fer christ sakes. If you haven’t heard of VC before, well, Free Expression is as good a place as any to get your feet wet. Originally released in 1999 on the band’s own Action Musik label, this two-CD deluxe reissue from Parasol is the way to go. Disc one offers the complete original Free Expression album as produced by Matthew Sweet (no neophyte around a pop song himself), as well as a bonus song tacked onto the Japanese version of the album. The second disc holds the original demo versions of many of the songs on Free Expression, recorded by vocalist/guitarist Paul Chastain in his home studio (including several cool unreleased tunes!)

The demo disc holds several unheard gems and holds up well on its own; sounding better than most of the legitimate album releases you’ll hear this year. The full-bore Sweet-produced version of Free Expression is a marvel though, Chastain and partner Ric Menck crafting an excellent collection of power-pop and twangy rock that will have you humming for days. Imagine the Byrds jamming with Big Star with the Everly Brothers adding harmonies. Sweet contributes some of his own underrated guitar work here, but Free Expression is Chastain and Menck’s show, an obvious labor of love resulting in an obscure classic that stands tall among the giants of rock ‘n’ roll. (Action Musik/Parasol)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat music zine, 2003

Archive Review: Jarboe’s Thirteen Masks (2004)

The enigmatic Jarboe is best known as the musical partner and collaborator of Swans mastermind Michael Gira. A haunting vocalist with an impressive, expressive range and a captivating stage presence, Jarboe has placed a human face on Gira’s often musically oppressive songs. After recording a number of albums with Swans and Skin – an even more musically experimental side project – Jarboe stepped out on her own with Thirteen Masks, her surprisingly diverse 1991 debut. Reissued with three bonus tracks by Atavistic after having been out-of-print for a number of years, Thirteen Masks is worth seeking out for listeners who prefer their music to be unpredictable, exhilarating and intellectually challenging.

Jarboe’s Thirteen Masks

Recorded over a number of different sessions, the material on Thirteen Masks evidently reflects the artist’s vision and mindset at the particular time. Given the stylistic diversity and varied performances, one wouldn’t expect Thirteen Masks to exhibit the thematic and musical cohesion that it does. “Listen” opens the album with an almost prayerlike quality, Jarboe’s lonely voice accompanied by a ringing chime, random percussion, and meager string instrumentation. It is a haunting moment that sets the stage for what follows on Thirteen Masks.

The album quickly jumps into a higher gear, “Red” evincing a dancefloor beat and aggressive, often altered vocals describing various (unknown) aspects of the color red. It’s an interesting and intriguing bit of wordplay, playful and thought provoking with a cacophonic soundtrack. “The Believers” offers Jarboe’s ethereal vocals layered on top of staccato drumbeats and explosive instrumentation, the martial rhythms balanced by the song’s soaring lyrical imagery. “The Never Deserting Shadow” is a folkish, ebony-hued track with beautiful instrumentation and powerful guitarplay matching obsessive lyrics, reminiscent of Current 93.

Two of the most powerful moments on Thirteen Masks come near the end, and the two songs couldn’t seem more different on the surface. “Shotgun Road (Redemption)” pairs a delicate guitar track with Jarboe’s almost-whispered vocals. The reflective lyrics speak of love and salvation, frustration, and betrayal. The gentle nature of the instrumentation belies the fury that lies beneath the words. “I Got A Gun” is equally moving (and disturbing); the repetitive refrain of “I got a gun” an expression of self-empowerment, shouted over a pounding drumbeat and chaotic guitar. When Jarboe states authoritatively that “I won’t stop until I get what I want,” you have to know that it’s true! Of the three bonus tracks, “We Are the Prophecy” stands out, Middle Eastern influenced instrumentation and chanted melodies lying beneath the artist’s breathless vocals.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Jarboe is assisted on Thirteen Masks by Gira, Swans’ guitarists Clinton Steele and Norm Westberg and the ever-changing musical terrorist Foetus, among others. The album’s focus and direction are entirely Jarboe’s, however, the music an unreal hybrid of Gothic rock, industrial dance, and dark jazz with the heart of a Delta bluesman and the soul of a German cabaret singer. Jarboe’s emergence as a skilled songwriter is evident, her potent pen blending emotional resonance, spiritual yearning, and a strong defiance of conformity, creating unique and thoughtful lyrical poetry.

Thirteen Masks was a powerful debut, a fiercely independent album too often (sadly) overlooked in the overall discussion of popular music. Restored here with pristine remastering and an expanded tracklist, Thirteen Masks is well worth rediscovery. (Atavistic Records, reissued 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Bootleg Review: Captain Beefheart’s Captain, My Captain (1999)

SOURCE: Radio broadcast on WLIR-FM, live from My Father’s Place in Roslyn, New York; November 18, 1978 (although some sources claim that it was December 18th).

SOUND QUALITY: Good to Very Good FM broadcast (7-8) with some hollowness and echo, especially on the horns. The good Captain’s vocals are clearly up front though and the entire set is quite listenable without causing any aggravation.

COVER: Single-sided panel with color picture of Beefheart on the front cover and a different shot of the Captain on the back cover with tracklist and venue info.

TRACKLIST: Tropical Hot Dog Night (listed as “Hot Dog”)/ Hit A Man (listed as “Woman’s Gotta Hit A Man”)/ Owed t’Alex/ Dropout Boogie/ Harry Irene/ Abba Zaba/ Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles (listed as “Million Blue Miles”)/ Old Fart At Play (listed as “Old Fart”)/ Well (listed as “Well, Well, Well”)/ Ice Rose/ Moonlight On Vermont/ Floppy Boot Stomp (listed as “Floppy Boot”)/ You Know You’re A Man (listed as “You’re A Man”)/ Bat Chain Puller/ Apes, Ma        

COMMENTS: Although I don’t share many of my critical brethren’s adoration of Don Van Vleit, a/k/a Captain Beefheart, I can easily see his influence on a generation of young noisemakers. Beefheart’s blues-infused improvisational jazz skronk can be followed in a steady timeline from the early seventies through numerous bands up to, and including Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and other current critic’s darlings. Personally, when one of Beefheart’s Kenny G-wannabe brassmen start blowing and choogling like a pale Coltrane imitation, it makes me want to take a freshly-sharpened fireaxe to the box from which said offending decibels are bleating.

That said, I must admit that Captain, My Captain is a fairly accessible live performance from Captain Beefheart and crew, including his aural executioner of choice, ex-Mother of Invention trombonist Bruce Fowler. Dating from the time period of Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller), the set is representative of where Beefheart seemed to be artistically situated at the time, mixing mutant blues with clever pop/rock and jazzlike, avant-garde musical experimentation. The Captain is a truly unique vocalist, sort of like Howlin’ Wolf on a steady liquid diet of broken glass and rotgut whiskey while the band, which includes guitarists Jeff Morris Tepper and Richard Redus, were capable of handling most of what Beefheart might ask of them.

This particular performance is a familiar one to fans of the Captain, having been previously circulated on vinyl and CD under such titles as Live At My Father’s Place and New York Hot Dog Night. This Tendolar CD-R version doesn’t include the entire performance, missing some four songs and at least a quarter hour from what I can tell. The neophyte Beefheart fan might find Captain, My Captain to be a heady brew, difficult to swallow in light of Beefheart’s penchant for surrealistic, stream-of-consciousness lyrics and discordant instrumentation.

The newbie might want to start with the legitimate release Safe As Milk, work their way up to Trout Mask Replica and then jump into Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) before searching for the one of many Beefheart boots that circulate in fan circles. As for the dedicated follower, they probably already have the material here, albeit in not as sonically pleasing a form. An acquired taste and touchstone of modern alt-rock, the good Captain is nothing if not a true original. (Tendolar Records CD-R, released 1999)

Review originally published by Live! Music Review zine...

Bootleg Review: Roy Buchanan’s Telecaster Country (1999)

SOURCE: Radio broadcast on WLIR-FM, live from My Father’s Place in Roslyn, New York; August 17, 1973.

SOUND QUALITY: Good FM broadcast (6-7) with some hollow, cavern feel to it. When Buchanan hits the high notes on his Fender Telecaster, though, they ring clear as a bell.

COVER: Four-color, four-panel insert with picture of a young Buchanan on front cover playing his beloved axe, a sepia-toned pic of Roy in the studio with guitar in hand on rear of insert. Inside offers excerpt of Guitar Player mag interview with the artist while back cover shows a much older Buchanan and offers tracklist and venue information.

TRACKLIST: I Can Fly Now/ C.C. Rider (listed here as “See See Rider”)/ Susie Q/ Hey Joe/ Blinda Lou/ Johnny B. Goode/ Bad Case Of The Blues/ Green Onions/ Pete’s Blues/ You Don’t Own Me       

COMMENTS: Since editor Bill tossed this musical hand grenade in my lap, I handled the crisis as best as I could. You see, in my ignorance, I knew little about Roy Buchanan other than his name and the occurrence of his tragic death. I was uninitiated in the wonderful legacy that this Telecaster maestro left behind in his wake and therefore had to dig up every scrap of info that I could on the artist. Thanks to Big Joe at Rossi’s Record Room in Brentwood TN, I acquired copies of Buchanan’s first two albums; later a copy of Sweet Dreams: The Anthology, a two-CD retrospective of Buchanan’s work fell into my lap. I was ready to tackle “Darth” Glahn’s review assignment with the proper tools to do the job.

Buchanan’s story, for those of you as blind as I once was, is classic blues material all the way. Born in Arkansas, raised in the California desert, Buchanan grew up in the Pentecostal Church of God, his father a fire and brimstone preacher. He often attended revivals with members of the area’s black church and, falling in love with gospel music, the blues and African-American guitarists like Blind Boy Fuller, Buchanan taught himself to play. He left home at fifteen, made his first recordings at the tender age of twenty, and played with folks like Ronnie Hawkins, Dale Hawkins and Freddie Cannon. He really wasn’t discovered until he was almost 32 years old, when a 1971 Rolling Stone article sang his praises. A checkered career followed, with a slew of major label recordings, a handful of indie sides and lots of live performances earning Buchanan lots of critical praise but little in the way of filthy lucre. He tragically took his own life in 1998 after a minor arrest for public drunkenness.

Said story is a way of explaining that Buchanan may well be one of the first true “cult” artists, a six-string wizard without peer who numbered among his admirers folks like Stanley Jordan, Mick Jagger, Jeff Beck, John Lennon, and Steve Cropper. All of which makes the appearance of this show especially poignant, since the market for Roy Buchanan boots must rank just above live discs by Stuffy & the Frozen Parachute Band or Hello People on the “labour of love” obscurity scale. Telecaster County documents a pretty tasty show, tho’, a fine mix of rocking covers like “Johnny B. Goode,” “Green Onions,” and “Susie Q” with extended blues jams on tunes like “Hey Joe” and the ten-minute “Bad Case of the Blues.” Although this show took place chronologically between Buchanan’s second album, released in ’73, and 1974’s “That’s What I’m Here For,” there’s very little overlap in songs. The performances slash and burn, however, Buchanan’s Telecaster dominating the arrangements – the shy artist never liked singing much and mostly stuck to instrumentals – while the rest of the band struggles to keep up.

Other than a few tapes that the hardcore faithful keep in circulation, there’s not much live Buchanan to be found in this world, and most of it is from late in his career. With much of his official efforts lapsing into undeserved obscurity, I’d recommend that anybody who loves guitar playing first check out Sweet Dreams: The Anthology. If you dig that, I’d heartily recommend Telecaster County, a fine document of an artist in his prime. (By the way, do you think that the producers of this disc meant to call it “Telecaster Country”? Surely the fabled guitar deserves its own fantasyland and not just a single county, eh?) (Head Records CD-R, released 1999)

Review originally published by Live! Music Review zine...

Archive Review: Jack Oblivian's Rat City (2011)

As a founding member of both the Compulsive Gamblers and the Oblivians, Jack Oblivian is as close to Memphis garage-rock royalty as you’ll find. For all that Oblivian has accomplished through the years, it’s often his solo work that shines the brightest. Rat City is Oblivian’s latest shot at glory, a boiling, rumbling stewpot of fatback punk-blues, spicy garage-rock, and sweet pop delivered in the Memphis tradition.

Whereas the title track is a streetfight with clashing instrumentation and city-slang lyrics that would make Armand Schaubroeck blush, cuts like the rollicking “Kidnapper” evince a Duane Eddy twang and Alex Chilton soul. “Girl On the Beach” is a melodic romantic ode with an undeniable hook while the stunning “Girl With the Bruises” is what the Clash would have sounded like had they come from Memphis. There’s a lot to like in the musical gumbo that is Rat City, Jack Oblivian one of rock’s lovable outcasts like Chilton, Willie DeVille, and all those others who dared walk on the edge with heart and soul. (Big Legal Mess/Fat Possum Records)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine, 2011

Hot Wax: The Reverend’s Summer Singles Playlist (2025)

Summer has finally opened its eyes and shaken off its long hibernation here in WNY, which means that those of us who reside on this frozen tundra are seeing the end of a long, cold, and wet spring season and staggering into the three-month inferno that is summertime ‘round these parts. The pile of 7” singles teetering in a haphazard pile in the Reverend’s office is threatening an unfortunate workplace disaster, so I thought that I’d pluck a few of the more worthy slabs ‘o wax from the stack and let you know about them with this year’s “Summer Singles Playlist.” Listen at your own peril…

The Big Ol’ Nasty Getdown – “Trill Seekers” b/w “Bananas” (Getdown Entertainment)
This one actually came out back in 2023, but it’s been given repeated spins on the trusty ol’ turntable since Big Ol’ Nasty Getdown bandleader John Heintz sent me a copy late last year. Side A’s “Trill Seekers” is a funky amalgam of Funkadelic and Sly & the Family Stone with the former’s wigged-out guitar strokes (courtesy of Timo Somers) and the latter’s undeniable rhythmic sense (provided by bassist Remco Hendriks and drummer Wesley Ritenour, along with wah bassist Cody W. Wright). It’s a pulse-quickening instrumental foot-shuffler with a bit of horn honk and an undeniable groove. 

Flip this gorgeous purple flapjack over and spin the “B” as in “Bananas” and you’ll find a similarly funky jam tho’ with more of a jazzy feel as a backdrop, the performance led by Keith Anderson’s frenetic saxplay and Bobby Sparks II’s nimble keyboards. Throw in Hendriks’ monster bass line, Jack Iron’s rock-solid timekeeping, and some delightfully skronky guitar via Tim Stewart’s out-of-control id and you have another liver-quivering, deep pocketed performance. The 7-incher is packaged in a thick quality fold-out sleeve adorned with gorgeous gonzo artwork by Jim Mazza and Jeff Wood.   BUY OR DIE!   

The Low Spirits – “You Lied” b/w “Never Said I Need You” (Outro Records)
The Low Spirits are a contemporary garage-rock outfit hailing from Rochester NY, but they sound like the Seeds cruising down Hollywood Boulevard on their way to Bido Lito’s. This latest 7” slab kicks off with “You Lied,” a punky high-octane treatise on love and betrayal fueled by Ryan Moore’s unrepentant keyboard-bashing, guitarist Michael Maier’s fuzztone string-pulling and snotty lead vox, and a heavy-as-uranium rhythm section comprised of bassist Richie Dejohn and drummer Zachary Koch. All of the guys contribute backing vocals, which add even more momentum to an already exhilarating performance. 

B-side “Never Said I Need You” rocks just as recklessly, but with a more somber vibe provided by Moore’s excellently-moody keys and moodier vocals, punctuated by shards of atmospheric guitar and well-timed backing harmonies. If you’re a fan of the Nuggets/Back From the Grave-inspired rock ‘n’ roll then you’ll dig the hell outta the Low Spirits!   BUY OR DIE!

Nervous Eaters – “Man’s Got A Right” b/w “No More Idols” (Penniman Records, Spain)
Boston’s Nervous Eaters are, in my estimation, one of the sorely overlooked punk rock outfits of the 1980s, a “one and done” major label flash ‘n’ the pan that subsequently went indie, releasing a handful of rockin’ elpees before calling it quits. Eaters guiding light Steve Cataldo reformed the band in 2018 and has since provided fans with two wonderful new albums on Little Steven’s Wicked Cool Records label. This recently-released import single dives into the time machine to offer up two previously unreleased vintage tunes. Side A’s “Man’s Got A Right” is a slaphappy slice of early ‘80s punk with a power-pop heartbeat, Cataldo’s low-slung vocals pumped up by the band’s gang harmonies and Jonathan Paley’s delightfully-tortured fretwork. 

Bassist Rob Skeen and drummer Jeff Wilkinson are a strong rhythm section, never more apparent than on the B’s madcap “No More Idols,” which one-ups the Ramones with a machinegun arrangement that features chainsaw guitar and more manic beats per minute than any slackjawed EDM wank-off. Both tunes provide unbridled energy, guaranteed to kick yer pacemaker into overdrive. Dave Anderson (of the Rochester NY band Calidoscopio) does an impressive job resurrecting what seem to be unreleased demos, bringing them back to life in the studio, Frankenstein-style.   BUY OR DIE!

The Shitkicker Rebellion – “White Light, White Heat” b/w “99th Floor” (Penniman Records, Spain)
The Shitkicker Rebellion is singer Greg “Stackhouse” Prevost and some of his friends from ‘round the Rochester NY area (sensing a theme here, are we?). Prevost, of course, has released four fine blues-rock albums over the past few years, each guaranteed to tickle your eardrums and pound your medulla oblongata into submission. Prevost gets his NYC groove on with this groovy new black pancake and a turbocharged cover of the Velvet Underground’s “White Light, White Heat” that comes into the DMZ hot with snarling vox resembling a cross between Lou Reed and Iggy Pop. The backing band offers tilted harmonies, and the song’s git solo is razor sharp, devastatingly recorded in the red for major mondo distortion. It’s a spine-yanking cover of a legendary tune that many have tried, but few have mastered; kudos to Prevost for blitzing an otherwise overplayed cover with unrelenting energy and attitude.

The poop-punting B-side (sorry, couldn’t resist…) is an equally inspired cover of the Moving Sidewalks’ 1967 treasure “99th Floor.” As the former frontman of beloved garage-rockers the Chesterfield Kings, Prevost can growl these Nuggets-styled gems out in his sleep; he’s no slacker, though, so he imbues the performance with a crackling, uncompromised punkish ferocity that is calmed only slightly by the mournful wail of his harmonica in the background while guitarist Ryan Moore (The Low Spirits) doesn’t so much as mimic Billy Gibbons’ guitar noise as re-writes its DNA. Guitarist Paul Morabito delivers a subtle-but-strong instrumental backdrop while the rhythm section of bassist Rick Cona (Chesterfield Kings) and drummer Zachary Koch (The Low Spirits) provide a cold steel consistency to the song’s runaway locomotion.   BUY OR DIE!