Archive Review: Descendents’ Cool To Be You (2004)

Foreshadowed by the excellent ‘Merican EP a few months ago, the first Descendents’ album in eight years certainly does not disappoint. Featuring the band’s trademark melodic punk, ramped up and amped up to keep up with singer Milo Aukerman’s madcap and slightly geeky vocals, Cool To Be You nevertheless offers up a more mature worldview than previous Descendents albums. Eight years is a lot of time in the life of a band and during the Descendents’ lengthy hiatus, the band’s sound has been co-opted by younger “punks” like Blink-182 and Sum 41. The four band members aren’t angry young punks anymore, but age and experience has added a vital edge to their anger…

Descendents’ Cool To Be You

Evidence “’Merican,” the centerpiece of Cool To Be You and as blistering a piece of social commentary as you’re likely to hear this election year. A brief and damning history of the United States, bassist Karl Alvarez’s lyrics hit your ears like an out-of-control chainsaw: “I come from the land of Ben Franklin, Twain and Poe and Walt Whitman/Otis Redding, Ellington, the country that I love” Milo sings approvingly. The darker side of America is not overlooked, tho’ – “But it’s the land of the slaves and the Klu Klux Klan/The Haymarket riot and the Great Depression/Joe McCarthy, Viet Nam” states the singer, concluding “it’s the sickest joke I know.” 

There are more such moments on Cool To Be You, real adult angst and anger and frustration forcing the question, what do teenagers have to be pissed off about anyway? It’s adulthood that sucks, whether it’s illustrated by the strange mating rituals of “Dog and Pony Show” or the extreme alienation of the title cut, the lyrical protagonist “counting scars in the land of the smiling knives.” Cool To Be You isn’t all pissed off lyrics and downer vibe, tho’, Milo standing up to be counted with the geek anthem “Mass Nerder.” A broadside leveled at the seemingly endless mass of hipper-than-thou posers and mall culture manufactured dissent, Milo proudly sings “I’ll read you under the table with my thick specs!” while “Maddie” addresses the realities of adulthood and relationships, concluding that “punk rock won’t pay the bills.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Descendents are blessed with not one but three above-average wordsmiths in Aukerman, Alvarez and drummer Bill Stevenson, while guitarist Stephen Egerton lets his playing talk for him, driving each song with perfectly-placed riffs and slashing leads that are typically overlooked by critics in awe of flashier axemen. Egerton is a damn fine guitarist, though, playing just what is needed and nothing more, each Descendents’ song a carefully crafted and deliberate mix of melody, energy, humor and anarchic spirit. In eight years, the band hasn’t lost a step – in fact, listening to Everything Sucks, the Descendents’ previous album (1996), it seems like the chemistry between the four is even better, each song meshing lyrics and instrumentation for total effect. Cool To Be You is punk rock as it was always meant to be – intelligent, entertaining and, at times, thought provoking. (Fat Wreck Chords, released 2004)

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

CD Review: CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack 1975-1986 (2026)

A ratty, dank, dark dive of a bar, CBGB in New York City has nevertheless earned its own chapter in rock ‘n’ roll history. A biker bar originally known as “Hilly’s On the Bowery,” owner Hilly Kristal changed the club’s name to CBGB + OMFUG (i.e. “Country, Bluegrass, Blues & Other Music For Uplifting Gourmandizers”) and began booking rock bands to try and attract beer-drinking crowds. Less than a year and a half later, the first and arguably finest generation of punk rock innovators debuted on the CBGB stage with Television, the Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie, and the Talking Heads all establishing massive local followings before going on to various levels of worldwide fame and fortune.

With the ‘Pandora’s box’ of punk rock blown wide open by these most famous of CBGB bands, a plethora of sounds and styles would follow in their wake and onto the stage: the city’s infamous “no wave” bands like Sonic Youth, DNA, and Bush Tetras; post-punk outfits like Ritual Tension and Suicide; oddball funksters James Chance & the Distortions; rhythm & blues crooners Mink DeVille; power-pop bands like Sorrows, the dB’s, the Shirts, and the Paley Brothers and, finally, the hardcore punk regiments of Bad Brains, Minor Threat, Agnostic Front, and Murphy’s Law, among hundreds of other bands. Everybody who was anybody in the late 1970s and early ‘80s (The Damned, The Police, Elvis Costello, The Beastie Boys, et al) played CBGB.

The club eventually became a brand, spinning off a record store (CBGB Record Canteen) and combination art gallery/performance space (CB’s 314 Gallery) and continued to book cutting-edge bands until its closure in 2006. Two decades later, “CBGB” t-shirts remain ubiquitous among punk rock fans. The club inspired numerous live recordings and several books, the best of which – Roman Kozak’s highly-recommended 1988 tome This Ain’t No Disco – was recently reissued by Trouser Press Books, as well as lofty pop culture references (including an homage by The Simpsons TV show, the ‘Holy Grail’ of cultural gatekeeping) and even a tawdry 2013 biopic by filmmaker Randall Miller. 

CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack 1975-1986

Patti Smith

CBGB also spawned a number of various compilation albums, beginning with 1976’s Live At CBGB’s - The Home of Underground Rock, which was curated by Kristal; as well as the 1990 Japanese import CBGB “Off the Board” and 2001’s scant UK import 25 Years of CBGB’s: 1976-2001, both of which are totally and ignorantly unrepresentative of the club and the overall NYC punk scene in the 1970s and ‘80s. One of my least favorite of these comps is Ocho Records’ 2002 CD CBGB’s and the Birth of U.S. Punk. Featuring 18 tracks selected by British rock critic Johnny Chandler, the tracklist resembles an academic essay rather than a true documentary, featuring bands like the Velvet Underground, the Sonics, the 13th Floor Elevators, and the Seeds that never actually played at the club, but rather “influenced” those that did. Bollocks!

So, when I saw that archival experts Cherry Red Records in the U.K. was releasing a massive four-CD box set, CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack 1975-1986, I hoped for the best. I needn’t have worried, as the 91-track box set is every bit as detailed and entertaining as the label’s recent Motor City Is Burning: A Michigan Anthology 1965-1972 and Steppin’ Out: The Roots of Garage Rock 1963-1965 box sets. Sure, you’ll find the same ol’ familiar faces that defined the “CBGB’s sound” (insomuch as there was one…) that pop up on every single damn punk rock anthology, although some aren’t singing the same old song: The Ramones (“Beat On the Brat”), Patti Smith (“Free Money”), Television (“See No Evil”), the Heartbreakers (“Born To Lose”), the Dead Boys (“Ain’t Nothing To Do”), and Blondie (“Picture This”), et al. But these four CDs offer so much more!

The realities of booking several nights of live entertainment several nights at any club – even in New York City – are challenging, at best. Out of necessity, CBGB had to book a diverse lot of rock ‘n’ roll outlaws, and this perspective shows itself on CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack. Aside from the aforementioned bands that are most strongly identified with the club, you have such frequent performers as Mink DeVille (“A Train Lady”), Tuff Darts (“Fun City”), James Chance & the Contortions (a raucous live cover of “Jailhouse Rock”), Bad Brains (“Banned In D.C.”), The Cramps (“Garbage Man”), Wayne Country & the Electric Chairs (“Fuck Off”), Cherry Vanilla (“Hard As A Rock”), and Richard Hell & the Voidoids (“The Kid With the Replaceable Head”) all represented across the box’s four CDs. It’s the lesser-known and truly obscure artists that really tickle my fancy, however, and the box has those guys ‘n’ gals in spades.

Kenny Gordon & Pure Hell

The CBGB’s Sound

A lot of artists who brought their individual muse to the CBGB’s stage never got a chance to make a record, or only released a single seven-incher or underpromoted LP for posterity but, in my estimation, quite a few of these talents deserved a shot at the brass ring. The Magic Tramps (“S&M Leather Queen”) were one of these, as unique a band to hit the Bowery stage as you’d find back in the day, with a sound that welded punkish intensity to the endless musical possibilities of prog-rock with a blowtorch. Stuart’s Hammer’s name sounds like a prog band, but they’re were really a rowdy bunch of rockers with wiry guitarplay and a sly sense of humor. Sonny Vincent’s Testors are a late discovery of mine, and Sonny has recently released a great compilation LP of the band’s high-octane brand of punk as displayed here by the livewire “You Don’t Break My Heart.”

Helen Wheels

Largely because of Kenny Gordon’s (no relation) endless advocacy, Pure Hell are beginning to get their due as the “World’s Only Black Punk Rock Band,” and they deserve every accolade tossed their way. The band’s “I Feel Bad” is an unrelenting curb-stomp of powering guitars and crashing rhythms, and their 2006 Noise Addiction compilation is highly recommended for old-school punk fans. Milk ‘n’ Cookies is another outfit getting a chance to shine as collectors have picked up on their ahead-of-their-time glammy punk vibe as evidenced by the joyful “Not Enough Girls (In the World”). Helen Wheels (née Robbins) was a NYC scene mainstay during the ‘70s, and her “Roon To Rage” shows the heart of punk with raging vox, a mean melodic hook, slicing fretwork and thundering drumbeats. Shrapnel, fronted by Dave Wyndorf (who would later form stoner rock outfit Monster Magnet) and guitarist Daniel Rey (famed Ramones producer) deliver the goods with “Combat Love,” a rollicking power-pop tinged rocker heartily endorsed by no less an authority than Joey Ramone. 

The dB’s would go onto a modicum of fame as one of the ‘80s finest college rock outfits, and their “Black and White” offers a glimpse of where the band’s punk-influences pop/rock sound would land while New Jersey natives the Bongos’ “Telephoto Lens” strides across similar sonic power-pop turf but with a quirkier adventuresome style. The Raybeats’ instrumental “Tight Turn” mixed surf-rock with Memphis soul (think Booker T. and the M.G.’s) for an entirely unique vibe while the Beastie Boys’ “Egg Raid On Mojo” is their pre-rap hardcore mosh classic. Singer/songwriter Jesse Malin is better known these days for his lyrical rock ‘n’ roll fare but his hardcore band Heart Attack’s “English Cunts” is more closely aligned with British bands like Crass or Discharge than with Springsteen. 

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

With four CDs comprised of over five hours of music, I’ve only scratched the surface of the CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack 1975-1986 box’s depths. There’s still plenty of cool, and sometimes great music here from unmentioned bands like Sonic Youth, Minor Threat, the Dictators, Talking Heads (a rare live take of “A Clean Break”), Genya Ravan (with Lou Reed), the Paley Brothers, Non Hendryx, the Laughing Dogs, Material, Richard Lloyd, Sorrows, Reagan Youth, and James Blood Ulmer that roars out of your speakers. Offering a wealth of largely out-of-the-mainstream music and detailed track-by-track liner notes, CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack is the only compilation of the legendary rock scene that you’ll ever need to buy. (Cherry Red Records, released January 30th, 2026)

Buy the CD box set from Amazon: CBGB: A New York City Soundtrack 1975-1986

Archive Review: Tech N9ne’s Anghellic (2004)

One of the most underrated and unique talents on the underground rap scene, Tech N9ne’s rhymes skew closer to the horror-movie landscapes of Detroit’s Esham than to those of any faux-gangsta that you’ll see on MTV. First, the Kansas City native’s original patois is a mix of rapid-fire, dancehall-influenced reggae toasting and monstrous, death metal style growled vocals. N9ne’s material is extremely cinematic in nature; every song that flows across N9ne’s tape reel feels larger-than-life and immediate. N9ne’s music is grand in scope and ambitious in execution, his lyricism brilliant and imaginative. Yet, Tech N9ne remains virtually unknown outside of Midwestern rap aficionados.

Tech N9ne’s Anghellic

Anghellic was originally released in 2001 by a regional label in partnership with Interscope, but dropped out of sight quickly and went out-of-print. N9ne has provided the album with another chance, reissuing this crucial part of his catalog on his own Strange Music label. A concept album, of sorts, Anghellic at its core illustrates the struggle between the secular pleasures of the flesh and the church’s promises of the afterlife. Drugs, money, sex, sin and salvation are all addressed with these tracks. 

When N9ne ventures into traditional “gangsta” territory, as he does with “Real Killer,” the results are chilling, his stories blazing with street violence and sudden death. Other N9ne rhymes are equally powerful, whether spitting the life-is-purgatory lyrics of the haunting “Suicide Letters” or outlining the temptations and tragedies of fame with “This Ring.” N9ne enjoys a bit of self-mythologizing with “It’s Alive” while the operatic “Tormented” is, well…just plain weird. The music on Anghellic is lush and complex, less beat-driven than most modern hip-hop, sort of a cross between improvisational jazz, a movie soundtrack and hard-edged heavy metal.    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

No doubt, Tech N9ne has talent and creativity to spare. As shown by this reissue of Anghellic and the more recent Absolute Power, N9ne possesses a unique vision unclouded by trends or fashion or celebrity. This isn’t Jay-Z or P Diddy playing the tabloids and throwing soundbites at TV cameras. Tech N9ne is the sound of the street, an artist who rocks to the beat of a different drummer. (Strange Music, reissued 2004)

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

Bootleg Review: The Who’s Who Put A Better Boot In 1976 (1999)

THE WHO
Who Put A Better Boot In 1976
(Shagadelic Productions, 68:04 min)

SOUND QUALITY: Good to Very Good soundboard (7-8), little noise and very few drop-outs. The sound is a little hollow in places but otherwise a very good recording of this old chestnut.

COVER: Front of four-color, four-panel insert has a slightly washed out copy of the famous photo of Keith Moon as a hotel bellhop, holding a tray with a couple of beer bottles and a glass, a manic look on his face. The rear of the insert has a reproduction of the original tour concert poster for this show along with smaller photos of Roger Daltrey and Peter Townshend. Inside of insert shows various photos of the band, including a notorious nude shot of Moonie. Back of CD has a live shot of Townshend and Daltrey and song listing.

TRACKLIST: Amazing Journey/ Sparks/ Acid Queen/ Fiddle About/ Pinball Wizard/ I’m Free/ How Can We Follow/ Baba O’Riley/ Squeeze Box/ Behind Blue Eyes/ Dreaming From The Waist/ My Wife/ Summertime Blues/ My Generation Jam: Talking About It, Join Together, My Generation, Blues Guitar Interlude/ Won’t Get Fooled Again

COMMENTS: This isn’t the first time that this classic Who show has been bootlegged, not even the first time on CD, but it may well be the best. Recorded live at the Swansea Festival in England on June 12, 1976, this Shagadelic release of this show is longer and of better sound quality than the scratchy old vinyl version that I’ve kept all these years. One of the reasons that it’s so popular with hard-core Who fans and music lovers in general is the overall dynamic quality of the band’s performance. Running through an energetic set that reads like a literal “greatest hits” compilation, the Who rip, rage and rock through performances of such favorites as “Pinball Wizard,” “Squeeze Box,” “Behind Blue Eyes,” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” among others.

It’s a memorable set, showcasing one of rock’s greatest bands playing at the top of their game and performing admirably in their own backyard. The later death of Keith Moon would change the sound and power of the band – they would become slicker and more professional as the 1970s gave way into the ’80s, but they’d never be the same again. Who Put A Better Boot In 1976 captures the Who in their full glory; it’s a must-have disc for Who fans. (Shagadelic Productions, released 1999)

Review originally published by Live! Music Review 

Archive Review: Eric Gales’ The Story of My Life (2008)

Not to be confused with acclaimed jazz guitarist Eric Gale, Memphis-born blues-rock phenomenon Eric Gales first picked up the instrument at the young age of four years old. Tutored and encouraged by his older brothers Eugene and Manuel (better known as Little Jimmy King), Gales learned how to play the Fender Stratocaster upside-down and left-handed, as per his brothers’ lead. At age eleven, the youngest Gales was already smoking other players at blues competitions, with his brother Eugene backing him on bass.

Gales earned his first recording contract at age 15, releasing The Eric Gales Band album in 1991, followed by Picture of A Thousand Faces in ‘93. Fueled by Gales’ incendiary fretwork, the albums yielded a pair of rock radio hits and put the young player on the radar as an up-and-coming guitar god. Gales worked with both his brothers for 1996’s Left Hand Brand, and then disappeared for five years until the 2001 release of That’s What I Am on MCA Records. Since then, Gales’ association with Shrapnel Records founder Mike Varney has been, perhaps, the most prolific period of his life, resulting in three recordings to date, including Gales’ seventh studio album, The Story of My Life. 

Eric Gales’ The Story of My Life

From the very beginning, The Story of My Life is a roller-coaster ride of bent-strings and machine-gun notes…only the pace of the individual song is in question, as Gales approaches each song with a scatter-gun assault of solo flurries and rhythmic hurricanes. Featuring the guitarist’s trademark blend of traditional blues and soulful, Memphis-flavored, psychedelic-tinged blues-rock, The Story of My Life offers up a wealth of red-hot guitarplay that will singe the ear-hair right off your head. 

“Save Yourself” is a throwback to Gales’ earliest work, a rocker with a heart of gold that channels Hendrix by way of Robin Trower, Gales’ soaring fretwork supported by a blast-furnace rhythm section in bassist Steve Evans and drummer Jeremy Colson. The slow-walking “I Ain’t No Shrink” mixes some Texas-blues stew with a side-dish of Chicago-styled Westside shuffle, while the title track does an admirable job of updating a big-sounding early-1970s stadium rock vibe with an inventive arrangement, vocal harmonies, and time changes.

The Sound of Electric Guitar

Sounding like a 1960s-styled space-rock freak-out, Gales’ amps up the psychedelic tones for the ear-bashing six-string workout “The Sound of Electric Guitar.” Featuring one of Gales’ most inspired performances, the song’s blister-and-peel fretwork is matched, grenade-for-grenade, by Evans and Colson’s diesel rhythms. “Cut and Run” is a romp across the boogie-rock landscape, the band doing its best Foghat impersonation as Gales’ lays down his lightning-quick fretboard runs on top of the song’s choogling framework. 

The squirrely notes that kick off “Borderline Personality” disguise the song’s menacing, chaotic soundtrack, which teeters on the edge of psychosis throughout much of its six-minute run, Gales’ six-string screaming in perverse delight as the band whomps up a bunch of new big-beat ear-crackers. “Bringin’ the Hammer” down is bound to be a live audience fave, with a larger-than-life overall sound and tightwire guitar fills. The bluesy power-ballad “Gypsy” offers up a subdued, truly nuanced guitar performance from Gales, complimented by his serviceable vocals. 

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

You’ll hear a lot that’s familiar on The Story of My Life: scraps of Hendrix, shreds of Stevie Ray, impressions of Robin Trower; dare I say, even a hint of Curtis Mayfield. Gales has too often been criticized as being “derivative” or of “over-playing,” but in reality, the string-shredder is working in a well-trodden, time-tested blues-rock genre where there’s little truly new under the sun. As for Gales’ alleged “over-playing,” that’s a matter of opinion, really…some of us like manic OTT string-bending in a bluesy vein.

Gales’ vocals are soulful in places, raw in others, but he is always trying to transcend his limitations. For Eric Gales, his guitar does most of the talking, and it speaks loudly on The Story of My Life. Lest we forget, Gales is still relatively young by blues standards, and his continued evolution as an artist, a songwriter, and even as a guitarist is impressive to watch. (Blues Bureau International, released 2008)

CD Review: Steppin’ Out: The Roots of Garage Rock 1963-1965 (2026)

When Elektra Records released the Lenny Kaye-curated Nuggets album in 1972, little did they know that they were not only scratching an itch experienced by hundreds of thousands of rock ‘n’ roll fans ill-served by the hard rock and prog of the time, but that they were kick-starting a “garage rock” cottage industry that continues unabated to this day. Aside from the numerous, varied Nuggets-related albums released over the past 50 years, you have a heaping handful of prolific Nuggets-adjacent series like Pebbles, Killed By Death, Back From the Grave and, most recently, Brown Acid that have explored the depths of garage, psych, and proto-metal rock.  

Into the fray jumps Cherry Red Records in the U.K. The archival label has released some mighty fine compilation box sets of late – last year’s Motor City Is Burning offers the most complete overview of Detroit’s rock ‘n’ soul history as you’ll find on three discs while the previous year’s Pushin’ Too Hard: American Garage Punk 1964-1967, as I wrote at the time, “really shines is by presenting and preserving more obscure garage rock nuggets by not only those marquee artists but odds ‘n’ sods ‘n’ true rarities that all but the most rabid collector may not have heard.” Steppin’ Out: The Roots of Garage Rock 1963-1965 is this year’s edition, Cherry Red’s Strawberry Records imprint doing yeoman’s work in compiling another high-quality, 94-track, three-disc box set.

Steppin’ Out: The Roots of Garage Rock 1963-1965

Mitch Ryder

Steppin’ Out isn’t necessarily a “garage rock” compilation but is ostensibly a look back at a lot of the artists and music that inspired the shambolic late ‘60s garage rock revolution. As such, you have a bit of this and a soupçon of that, with early rock ‘n’ roll and radio-friendly pop to psychedelic rock and surf music all represented here. Like any compilation of this sort, there are bands that are readily familiar (The Byrds, The Beach Boys, Mitch Ryder, Paul Revere & the Raiders); bands that are vaguely familiar (Sir Douglas Quintet, the Sonics, the Misunderstood, Link Wray); and those that are largely obscure except to record-hoarding fanatics (Sir Frog & the Toads, Merrell & the Exiles, Ognir & the Nite People).

The most impressive aspect of Steppin’ Out, aside from the collection’s sheer quantity of music, is the nearly-seamless flow of songs and styles that compliment each other. So, you get the Chantells’ classic instrumental “Pipeline” segueing into the Dartells’ soulful dance tune “Hot Pastrami.” Jan & Dean’s teen melodrama “Dead Man’s Curve” rolls right into the rowdy, garage-adjacent party tune “Farmer John” which, itself, is a sort of spiritual cousin of the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie” (which is included here as well). The Trashmen’s manic classic “Surfin’ Bird” leads into the Astronauts’ esoteric, otherworldly instrumental “Baja,” and so on…

The Puddin’ Heads, The Beefeaters & The Sonics

The Sonics

Rather than bore you, the gentle reader, with the familiar – we all know that the Beach Boys’ “I Get Around,” the Byrds’ “I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better,” the McCoys’ “Hang On Sloopy,” and the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “You Didn’t Have To Be So Nice” are great songs – I’ll instead cover the hidden gems and truly obscure tracks found on Steppin’ Out that make it worth the outlay of cash to buy the set. Disc One, for instance, includes the frenetic, punkish, British-flavored “Now You Say We’re Through” by the Puddin’ Heads, the B-side to the American band’s lone single rattling and shaking like a runaway train. The Beefeaters, as any ‘60s rock fan can tell you, were the pre-Byrds band with Roger McGuinn, David Crosby, and Gene Clark. Their lovely, poppish “Please Let Me Love You” displays some of the same magic their latter band would capture.

The previously-unreleased 1965 track “Get Away From Me” by Philadelphia garage rockers the Angels (not the girl group that released “My Boyfriend’s Back”) features a pair of female vocalists with attitude who clearly aren’t playing around, their fiery vocals complimented by a smooth instrumental groove. The Sonics are cult favorites, not widely known outside of their Pacific Northwest territory, but the influence of tunes like the young, loud, and snotty “The Witch” extended around the globe, the band’s punkish delivery and bludgeoning instrumentation creating an instant rock ‘n’ roll classic. Even more obscure are Merrell & the Exiles, genius bandleader Merrell Fankhauser a fascinating cat that dabbled in all sorts of rock ‘n’ roll styles under a number of band names. “Let Me Go” is a lo-fi rave up from 1964 or ’65, with jangly guitar and clamorous backing instrumentation adding to the excited performance.

Sir Douglas Quintet, The Wailers & Sir Frog

Sir Douglas Quintet

Second disc openers the Sir Douglas Quintet don’t get nearly enough acclaim for their groundbreaking Tex-Mex sound; the band’s “She’s About A Mover” masterfully blends British Invasion rock with Doug Sahm’s Texas roots to create a mesmerizing slab o’ proto-garage rock circa 1965. The Avengers (not the San Fran punks but rather SoCal high school kids) strike a Beatle-esque pose with their 1965 single “When It’s Over,” which is raw, primal, and gutsy while still retaining a monster sense of melody. The Surfaris – best known for their classic instrumental romp “Wipe Out” – were twangmasters of the highest order, the previously-unreleased “Storm Surf” slapping some high-energy Link Wray licks onto a trembling rocker. Hailing from Detroit, the Human Beings’ 1965 single “Ain’t That Lovin’ You Baby” presages the high-octane Motor City scene of a few years hence, the song’s bluesy sound and shards of livewire guitar punctuating a tale of unrequited love.

Like the Sonics, the Wailers were Sasquatch-weaned wildmen from the Pacific Northwest, and their 1965 tune “Hang Up” is grungy, loud, and recklessly rocking, threatening to blow out your speakers with every note. The Gentry’s “Keep On Dancing” appears on every compilation of this sort and should need no introduction, but the Memphis band’s foot-shuffling keyboards ‘n’ drums dancefloor rhythms are always worth revisiting. The Bobby Fuller Four are forever remembered for “I Fought the Law,” but this 1965 single, “Never To Be Forgotten,” is an equally-infectious slice of Buddy Holly-styled pop while Sir Frog & the Toads (so named by their label owner for whatever reason) attempted to kick-start a dance craze with the R&B infused “The Frog.” The fact that we’ve never heard of them since is no reason not to enjoy the song’s wiry guitarplay and liver-quivering rhythms. 

Johnny Winter, Ognir & the Nite People, The Spades & The Groupies

Johnny Winter

Texas bluesman Johnny Winter pioneered a rootsy blues-rock sound in the ‘70s, but this unreleased 1965 recording showcases the guitar wizard as a blues-eyed soulster with an emotionally-impactful heartbreak tune. Disc three opens with the psych-tinged, British Invasion-styled Brogues and their frenetic “Don’t Shoot Me Down,” which manages to hit all the right spots with raging guitars and keyboards. The Rationals, from Detroit, are one of my Motor City faves and their “Look What You’re Doin’ (To Me Baby)” showcases frontman Scott Morgan’s soulful vocals and the band’s rowdy, guitar-driven R&B sound. The oddly-named Pennsylvania quintet Ognir & the Nite People (‘Ognir’ being ‘Ringo,’ as in ‘Starr,’ spelled backwards). The band’s young, loud, and snotty take on the Stones resulted in the pulse-pounding “I Found A New Love” while the Sonics reappear with the rattletrap rave-up “Cinderella,” a 1965 single that will shake the furniture at the right volume.

The all-sisters band the Girls deliver an engaging 7-incher with the moody “My Love” while Roky Erickson’s pre-Elevators band the Spades and their 1965 single “We Sell Soul” offer a curious glimpse of pre-LSD era Roky and his underrated vocal and songwriting skills. The Misunderstood have a cult following that continues to grow to this day, and for good reason. The unreleased (at the time) song “Bury My Body” showcases a band taking their British Invasion influences to the gym and pumping iron until they became something entirely fresh and exciting. Indiana band the Jokers only made one single, “What’cha Gonna Do,” but it’s a winner, a bluesy garage-romp with soaring vocals and harmonica play that veers across Dylan’s turf. NYC rockers the Groupies mustered up this lone single, “Primitive” a bluesy gutbucket caveman stomp that was later be covered by the Cramps, thus provided a cherished place in the punk-blues canon.       
      

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

    
Too much of the third CD of Steppin’ Out is comprised of well-worn songs by Nuggets-certified bands like the Standells (“Dirty Water”), the Leaves (“Hey Joe,” 1965 version), the Knickerbockers (“Lies”), the Strangeloves (“Night Time”), and the Thirteenth Floor Elevators (“You’re Gonna Miss Me”), which seems like a bit of a gyp. As great as all these songs may be, they’ve been anthologized to death on previous compilations and their inclusion here seems like lazy curation. 

You could easily cut a dozen of these songs from Steppin’ Out and still have a three-disc, 80-song too-cool-for-school compilation that would kick plenty of ass. Still, this is a minor cavil, at best, and Steppin’ Out delivers plenty o’ bang for your bucks, the box – along with Cherry Red’s Pushin’ Too Hard – providing perfect bookends to the original Nuggets album, song overlap be damned. After all, you can’t have too much garage rock in your collection! (Strawberry Records/Cherry Red, released January 23rd, 2026)  

Buy the CD box from Amazon: Steppin’ Out: The Roots of Garage Rock 1963-1965

Archive Review: Corey Harris's Fulton Blues (2013)

The wonderful thing about acoustic bluesman Corey Harris is that you never really know where he’s going, musically, from album to album – you just know that it’s going to incorporate some fine Delta-inspired blues in amidst the other musical influences. For many fans, the last time we heard from Harris was with 2009’s critically-acclaimed blu.black album for Telarc. What many don’t know is that the artist released an album titled Father Son, Mother Earth back in 2011with the Rasta Blues Experience on his own independent Njumba label. While information on that release is sparse, at best (I haven’t heard the album, so I can’t comment on it), fans should know that Harris released the excellent Fulton Blues album earlier this year, and if you don’t have it, you should track it down via Amazon.com or CD Baby ‘cause this one’s a keeper!

Fulton Blues starts out with the throwback romp “Crying Blues,” which kind of mixes a Chicago blues vibe with an R&B big band sound to great effect, Harris drawling out the vocals like a modern-day Cab Calloway as the horns swing buoyantly behind him. As proof of my opening statement, Harris switches gears so fast as to derail the train, the Delta-tinged “Underground” featuring Harris’ mournful vocals and eerie acoustic fretwork, the two meshed perfectly with his haunting lyrics to create a smothering, malevolent ambiance. The song’s socio-economic commentary is cleverly hidden between the lines, which isn’t the case with the brash title track, which pairs a Piedmont blues soundtrack akin to Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee with modern lyrical concerns, Harris’ vocals and fine git pickin’ assisted by Hook Herrera’s blustery harp play. 

While most of the songs on Fulton Blues flow brilliantly from Harris’s pen, he does add a couple of perfectly-chosen covers in Skip James’ “Devil Got My Woman” and Robert Petway’s “Catfish Blues.” The former is delivered with a languid pace, sprawling harp and guitar, and Harris’ best Mississippi drawl while the latter is provided a bigger band accompaniment with Harris picking up a Gibson ES-165 electric to show that he knows how to lay down a groove with the best of them while Chris “Peanut” Whitley’s chiming keyboards create a dissonant space for Gordon Jones’ bigger-than-life, jarring blasts of sax. It’s the bluesiest take I’ve heard on the song yet, and further proof that while you never know what you’re going to get from a Corey Harris album, you know it’s going to be good! Grade: A- (Njumba Records, released January 31st, 2013) 

Archive Review: Lightnin Malcolm's Rough Out There (2013)

Steve “Lightnin” Malcolm was schooled in the blues by none other than the notoriously cranky T-Model Ford, the guitarist later receiving an advanced degree by hanging around and playing with various members of the Burnside and Kimbrough families in Northern Mississippi. Malcolm was one-half of the Two Man Wrecking Crew with drummer Cedric Burnside, the duo releasing a pair of well-received albums before Malcolm stepped out to record his acclaimed 2011 solo debut Renegade. A couple years later, Malcolm is paying the bills by touring with his buddies in the North Mississippi Allstars, releasing a sophomore album on his own indie label. Rough Out There pretty much picks where Renegade left off, the new album showcasing a similar mix of ramshackle No. MS blues styles and juke-joint rhythms driven by Malcolm's fiery, over-clocked fretwork. 

As engaging as Malcolm can often be, some of this stuff borders on the embarrassing. The title track, for example, offers a mix of old-school psychedelic soul and modern hip-hop aspirations that might play in nearby Memphis, but crashes and burns in light of the sophistication of today's bluesmen-and-women. Much better are Malcolm's more heartfelt moments, like the enchanting “Dellareesa,” with its island lilt, the song's frothy pop construct matching 1970s-era soul with a contagious melody and swaying rhythms. The haunting “Mama” reminds of Shuggie Otis, with wistful vocals and swirling, innovative guitarplay while “Reality Check” blends Bob Marley with British blues-rock in an interesting and entertaining musical experiment. 

A man out of time with contemporary blues currents, Malcolm is at his best when shooting straight from the hip, and while the production on Rough Out There is steady in spite of what was surely a low budget, the guitarist would benefit from a guiding hand in the studio to help shape his lofty (and often inspired) artistic vision and highlight his obvious talents. Grade: B- (ShakeDown Records, released Septmber 10th, 2013)

Archive Review: Cyril Neville's Magic Honey (2013)

New Orleans music legend Cyril Neville (he of the Meters and the amazing Neville Brothers) has been touring the world as of late as part of the Royal Southern Brotherhood with Devon Allman and Mike Zito. That band's Louisiana hot sauce-laced musical gumbo surely struck a chord with blues fans almost everywhere, perhaps delaying Neville's return to what has been an acclaimed and moderately successful solo career. Following his RSB bandmates over to the esteemed Ruf Records label, Neville recorded Magic Honey, his first solo effort since 2009's critically-lauded Brand New Blues album. One thing that's apparent from the first note of the album-opening title track is that Neville hasn't lost a step in these ensuing years, but rather sounds positively inspired after his stint playing with talented younger artists like Allman and Zito.

Magic Honey follows a musical blueprint familiar to any Cyril Neville fan, or to Royal Southern Brotherhood fans for that matter, the album providing a satisfying blend of New Orleans funk, old-school soul, Delta blues, and Southern rock styles that go together like Boudin sausage and crawfish Etouffee. Neville's take on "Something's Got A Hold On Me" is downright back alley scary, the song's swamp-blues vibe assisted by producer David Z's stinging fretwork, while the Walter Trout co-write "Running Water" benefits from the big man's scorched-earth guest-star guitar, which manages to rock the studio to the rafters even while it achieves an undeniably funky groove. 

A cover of Michael Bloomfield's "Working Man" is pumped up on steroids by Zito's six-string switchblade, a hard rocking soundtrack, and Neville's powerful vocals, the song neatly bookended by a blustery version of Paul Butterfield's "You Can Run But You Can't Hide" that features some nice razor-blade guitar. Neville's original "Blues Is the Truth" is the pitch-perfect heartbeat of the album, a "ready for primetime" romp where studio ace Cranston Clements' stellar guitarplay really has a chance to shine and Neville's expressive vocals speak multitudes between the lines. Overall, Magic Honey is a transcendent collection by a wily, multi-talented veteran still capable of pulling a few new tricks out of his bag. Grade: A (Ruf Records, released September 10th, 2013)