Monday, June 8, 2026

Archive Review: Elliott Murphy’s Unreal City (1993)

Elliott Murphy’s Unreal City
This was released several months ago, the return of singer/songwriter Elliott Murphy to these shores, and it’s been growing on me, nagging me to review it ever since I got it. It keeps returning to the CD player, each new spin offering some new insight or phrase that I missed the first time out. Murphy lives up to every claim ever made for him as a songwriter, an artist so poetically gifted that he throws away lines that lesser writers would base entire works on.

In the way of background, after a handful of under-hyped, under-appreciated late ‘70s/early ‘80s albums, which earned massive amounts of critical acclaim heaped upon near-total commercial failure, Murphy split to find some respect and mystery in Europe. Unreal City is a diary, of sorts, of the past decade’s adventures. Each song on Unreal City tells a story, presenting a lyrical postcard of a place, a memory, an emotion...

An artist in paradise, Murphy is following the trail of such literary greats as Fitzgerald or Hemingway. He remains unsure of himself, however, as on “Destiny,” when he sings “thought I was a romantic/when I crossed the Atlantic/ but that didn’t change the tide/but that’s a different story/in the search for love and glory/there’s no place left to hide...” Much of the album possesses a dark shadow to it, with lonliness and mortality often explored. On the haunting “On Elvis Presley’s Birthday,” Murphy remembers his childhood, his late father, and uses Elvis as an icon of both, singing “driving in his Cadillac/it was Elvis Presley’s birthday/they said it on the radio/my father liked Elvis and it was wonderful.” The song sadly ends, though, with the verse, “this is an unreal city/you can be anybody you want to be/when you’re alone.” It speaks to the memories which fuel the dreamer in each of us.

Through all of the travels presented on Unreal City, the joy and the tears, the acute observations on love and life, it is the birth of his son in Paris, inspiring the writing of the album’s closer, “Let It Rain,” which brings this sojourn full-circle. “Ever since I was a child,” begins Elliott, “my manner described as mild/it was always too late to estimate/the force of the hurricane blowing in my head.” He ends this opus of faith renewed, and, indeed, the album’s story, by denying the fates their victory. In joy he sings, “I believe in love/I believe in birth/I believe in giving something back to the earth...so let it rain.” It is as powerful an affirmation of life as has been written, by one of the rock genre’s most talented yet unknown artists. (Razor & Tie Music, released 1993) 

Originally published by R.A.D! zine, October 1993

Also on That Devil Music: Elliott Murphy’s Notes From the Underground CD review

Friday, June 5, 2026

CD Review: Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers (2026)

Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers
Decades ago, before corporate radio mergers created a handful of ginormous  broadcast inanities playing homogenized – and creatively neutered – playlists, listening to your local FM radio station was an adventure. I remember sitting in my bedroom during the early-to-mid-‘70s, listening to the local Nashville rock station WKDF-FM every night, where you could hear a wonderful blend of the commercial giants of the time (Zeppelin, Stones, Deep Purple, Sabbath, et al) played alongside lesser-known but incredible artists (Audience, Humble Pie, Osibisa, Mott the Hoople). 

Nashville rockers Sour Ops remind me a lot of those days, with the band’s enthusiastic embrace of the old and new, and their savvy ability to blend the two into something both timely and yet timeless. Bikers Make Better Lovers is the band’s follow-up to 2024’s delightful Evangeline and their fifth album overall (plus the perfectly cromulent five-song EP Tinder Flame), the Sour Ops not-so-quietly building as impressive a catalog of music as any of their Music City contemporaries and, really, any indie rockers across America.

Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers


Bikers Make Better Lovers cranks off with the swirling, synthy ‘80s action movie vibe of “Opting Out” before launching into chiming guitars, cascading rhythms, and frontman Price Harrison’s soaring vocals. Harrison’s oblique lyrics are an enigma wrapped in a soundtrack (seems to be about a romance gone sideways), and the song’s melody will get under your skin from the first note. Harrison’s short guitar solo buzzes like an angry beehive but cuts like a thousand stings while the rest of the band pitches a perfectly joyful noise. Even the lofty backing vox, dancing atop shards of guitar and bass, embellish the song in ways beyond nuance.

“Problem Number Next” follows a similar musical blueprint, albeit with more “wall of sound” instrumental density, drums and bass providing a solid rhythmic backdrop atop which Harrison delivers one of his shortest, shocking, Sonny Sharrock-styled solos. The band’s melodic sense is unparalleled, every tune an infectious mix buoyant pop and erudite rock ‘n’ roll in nearly equal measures, and perfectly suited for FM radio airplay (or would be, if radio wasn’t such a wasteland…). The new wavish ‘80s enchantment of “The Power of Right Now” leans towards the British rock of the era, but still incorporates enough U.S. college radio influence to play to both sides of the fence. Harrison’s use of a Theremin on the song results in an abrasive solo that veers hard towards the psychedelic ‘60s.

The semi-anthemic “She’s So Strange” is a big-beat hard rocker with clamorous instrumentation, vocals that shoot out of the dark like a poison arrow, and an overall chaotic soundtrack that would win a switchblade fight with the Jesus & Mary Chain. The romantic kiss-off of “Made of Lies” is made all the more impactful by Steve Ebe’s massive drumbeats and Tony Frost’s foundational bass lines while “Gym Bro” benefits from the song’s overall, free-for-all cacophony, with clashing, crashing instruments vying for position beneath Harrison’s cool vocals.

All That Matters Now


If Bikers Make Better Lovers was pressed on vinyl (kids: another 1970s/’80s reference), side one would have closed with “Made of Lies” and side two opening with the up-tempo “Gym Bro.” That would make the lovely “All That Matters Now” a ‘cool down’ song, and it does so exquisitely, the performance not quite a ballad, but rather a mid-tempo plea accompanied by a hint of backing vocals and the gorgeous weeping pedal steel of maestro Paul Niedhaus. The pop-flecked, enchanting “Be My Secret” is afforded a spry instrumental backdrop, one of Harrison’s more emotional vocal performances, and an overall musical warmth enhanced by Amanda Broadway’s subtle harmony vocals.

The underlying syncopated rhythms of “No Winner Tonight” add a dash of funk to the performance, but mostly they provide a fast rail for the arrangement to jet along, propelling the instrumentation forward in parallel lines (rather than the less symmetrical arrangements of previous songs) while Harrison’s somber vox mimic Andrew Eldritch of Sisters of Mercy without the Goth trappings, or maybe the shambolic strains of Ian Astbury without the semi-metal overkill. Bikers Make Better Lovers closes with “Fake Appeal,” a less melodic but no less powerful performance with what seems to be (at times) double-tracked vocals, over-amped instrumentation, and more of Harrison’s six-string fever dreams. The song is a fine way to close the album and will continue ringing in your ears long after you turn off the amplifier, leave the room, and pour yourself a shot or two...  

Sour Ops

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


If previous Sour Ops albums tended to wear the band’s ‘70s-era musical influences on their figurative sleeves (The Stooges, Big Star, Cheap Trick, etc), Bikers Make Better Lovers eschews even their obvious Replacements obsession by making a bolder, brasher, and definitely louder musical statement. Taking no prisoners, the album’s performances teeter on insanity, opening up sonic possibilities seemingly denied earlier efforts. 

Noticeably missing on Bikers is guitarist Mike Harrison, whose absence allows brother Price to channel his avant-garde aspirations through the fretboard like Television’s Richard Lloyd or Living Colour’s Vernon Reid, without all the messy histrionics of shredders like Joe Satriani or Steve Vai. Lightning quick and gone in a flash, Harrison’s guitar solos are just one facet of the band’s expanded and expansive musical palette that make Bikers Make Better Lovers both their most adventuresome and artistically-expressive album to date, as well as their most entertaining. (Feralette Media, released May 29th, 2026)

Buy the album from Bandcamp: Sour Ops’ Bikers Make Better Lovers   

Also on That Devil Music:
Sour Ops’ Family Circuit CD review

Monday, June 1, 2026

CD Review: The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble (mekons Vs. Tony Maimone In Dub Conference) (2026)

The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble
British rockers mekons released a new album in 2025, the stand-out HORROR tragically-overlooked by all but the most hardcore of mekons fans. I gotta admit that I gave it a spin and shelved it because, with so much sound & fury in the world, it’s hard to recognize true beauty when you hear it. Luckily for we hopelessly unworthy droogs, the band is reissuing HORROR as the bonus disc of an adventuresome two-CD package along with a brand new LP, HORRORble. Comprised of Dub remixes by Pere Ubu’s Tony Maimone, HORRORble will warp your little mind, and the whole shebang will be available on CD, vinyl, and digital format to fit every budget just in time for the mekons’ 13-date tour of the U.S.

The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble (mekons Vs. Tony Maimone In Dub Conference) 

 
HORROR stands tall entirely on its own, a prescient and present collection of socially-conscious songs glittered-up with the band’s typical folk, rock, and country garnish. Lyrically, mekons mainstay Jon Langford has never been better in describing our current nightmare with songs like the lilting waltz “Sad and Sad and Sad,” the guitar-driven Celtic-folk of “Glasgow,” the historical lament “Mudcrawlers,” an uncompromising rocker with dense, clashing instrumentation, or the Burroughs/Ginsberg influenced beat poesy of “War Economy,” a punky new wave musical jaunt with fractured instrumentation and snarling vocals.    

Maimone had his work cut out for him in reimagining the band’s material for HORRORble, but acquits himself well from the first gorgeous note of “Before the Ice Age,” the production gimcrackery riding low in the saddle beneath the song’s haunting vocals (courtesy of Sally Tims) and ethereal soundtrack. The aforementioned “Sad and Sad and Sad” takes on new dimensions with a swirling rhythmic backdrop while “War Economy” is afforded a more traditional Jamaican Dub production that does nothing to rob the lyrics of their power by cleverly hiding them in a mix that would make King Tubby happy. 

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


The Mekons' Horror
Every one of Maimone’s productions on HORRORble are a trip – I particularly like the lysergic whimsical ambiance of “Sanctuary” and the shoegaze reverberations of “Fallen Leaves” – but his rockin’ remake of “Mudcrawlers” with U.K. vocalist Benjii Webbe (of the reggae-metal outfit Skindred) brings a sense of urgency and idealism to an already edgy tune, the performance a unique hybrid of Billy Bragg and Bob Vylan. If you weren’t paying attention when HORROR hit the shelves, maybe it’s time to rediscover the erudite and esoteric charms of the mekons with this budget-priced double-dose of one of the more criminally-overlooked bands in rock music. (Fire Records, released June 5th, 2026) 

Buy the CD from Amazon: The Mekons’ HORROR/HORRORble

Monday, May 25, 2026

Download: Pete Berwick's Early Days

Pete Berwick & the Generics Live At the Kmart 1981
Pete Berwick & the Generics - Live At the Kmart 1981 (Shotgun Records)

Americana pioneer Pete Berwick recently released two obscure recordings from his shadowy past and they provide a valuable glimpse into his foundational roots. Live At the Kmart 1981 is his punk rock EP, and not all that surprising, really, as Pete has always displayed a bit o’ punk attitude on his shit-kickin’ country-rock albums like The Damage Is Done and Just Another Day In Hell. The Generics were a short-lived but hard playing outfit that banged around the Midwest for three years circa 1981-1984. 

The six songs here don’t so much as caress your cerebellum as carom off your gray matter with a short, sharp shock. The sound sucks – definitely an audience or off-stage recording – with all the sonic artifacts that implies. But the songs are fast-paced, bristling with energy, and showcase an underlying melody that bursts out of the bootleg-quality taping with a reckless fervor. Two tracks, “I Wanna Be With You” and “There She Goes Again,” received regional college radio airplay and the EP overall is highly recommended for fans of late ‘70s/early ‘80s American punk…plus, it’s cheap!

Buy from Bandcamp: The Generics  

+++++

Pete Berwick & Interstate's Poster Above the Urinal 1987
Pete Berwick & Interstate - Poster Above the Urinal 1987 (Shotgun Records)


Fast forward a few years and Berwick – who would soon be haunting the side streets and dive clubs of Nashville – is fronting a more traditional rock ‘n’ roll outfit in his Chicago hometown, albeit one that veers dangerously onto cowpunk turf. Another audience recording, ten tracks, nine originals, and a wonderful cover of the Stones’ heroin ode, “Dead Flowers,” makes for a nice, tidy collection. 

The sound is marginally better than on the Generics EP, but still bootleg in quality – which does nothing to diminish the intoxicating cheap thrills that Berwick and his band Interstate serve up with Poster Above the Urinal 1987. The punkish edge is still obvious on songs like “Wild Ones” which, at six-minutes-plus, is adorned with too much cool Duane Eddy-styled guitar licks, wildass harmonica, and explosive drumbeats to be mistaken for Green Day or the Descendents.     
    
“Ain’t Good Enough” amps it up even further with a machinegun rhythm that Berwick’s vocals dance atop while the satirical “American Family” brings the twang with skewed humor and a stripped-down, ramshackle country sound built on aggressive guitar strum and harmonica. Berwick’s lyrics reveal his uncanny songwriting skills and dark sense of humor, skills that would only get sharper through the years. The last few songs on Poster Above the Urinal 1987 get increasingly twangier, with “She’ll Never Know” standing out in the crowd for its Dylanesque fervor and blue collar poetry and “White Lines” is just a solid hard rock jam with raging harmonica and chiming guitars underlining the lyrics. 

As for the aforementioned cover of “Dead Flowers” – which is really more of a Gram Parsons song than true Jagger/Richards composition (IYKYK) – Berwick’s drawled vox and nuanced fretwork wrap the song’s dark-hued lyrics in a blanket of pathos and a doomed Hank Williams vibe. Poster Above the Urinal 1987 provides a roadmap for Berwick’s eventual Nashville sojourn while documenting his evolution from young punk to seasoned roots-rocker, Berwick one of the most criminally-overlooked talents in the increasingly stodgy Americana sphere.

Buy from Bandcamp: Pete Berwick & Interstate

Friday, May 22, 2026

CD Review: Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert (2026)

Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert
It’s heartening to know that, even at this late date in the growing shadow of the 20th century, there is still some amazing music being discovered in some vault or another. Last year we got an amazing, unknown John Lee Hooker album in The Standard School Broadcast Recordings and in 2026, so far, we’ve seen some fine live Humble Pie sides and a never-released Wild Tchoupitoulas set live in New Orleans. Now comes along Freddie King’s Feeling Alright, a previously-unreleased album documenting the legendary bluesman performing before 50,000 fans at France’s Nancy Jazz Pulsations Festival on October 10th, 1975. Released on vinyl as a three-LP set for this year’s Record Store Day event, it’s also available as a two-CD set for those of us with more discriminating budgets.

Freddie King’s Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert


King wasn’t at his prime in 1975, but he wasn’t far from it even with his death tragically looming in the year to follow. The guitarist had released his sixth album of the ‘70s, Larger Than Life, which was a studio/stage hybrid with tracks recorded live in April of that year at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin TX and in the studio in Hollywood with producer Mike Vernon. King embarked on a lengthy tour in support of the LP, barrel housing his livewire sound around the globe. 

King is backed on Feeling Alright by a solid band that included talents like second guitarist Ed Lively, bassist Benny Turner, and pianist Lewis Stephens as well as keyboardist Alvin Hemphill and drummer Calep Emphrey. Together, they make a joyous noise, the band members knowing when to play and when to stay and when allow the maestro to perform his six-string wizardry. They run through sixteen songs which represent a little old, a little new, and a whole lotta blues.

Have You Ever Loved A Woman


The set opens with King’s take on the Billy Myles’ song “Have You Ever Loved A Woman?,” the 1960 single expanded upon with King’s elegant, lengthy instrumental intro (nearly four minutes of guitar blues nirvana!) before he introduces the band (accompanied by individual solos, as was the style at the time…). King jumps back on the fretboard for a few minutes of bliss before introducing himself; it’s roughly ten minutes before he gets to the actual singing part. His emotional vocals make it well worth the wait, however, King delivering the lyrics as a heartbroken torch song punctuated by lonely guitar notes against a somber instrumental backdrop. It’s a stunning performance, King’s dynamic six-string work providing the song with gravitas and soul.

Although the opening track takes up nearly one-third of the first disc, what follows is equally as fiery and entertaining. “Whole Lot of Lovin’” is a booger-rock romp with a swinging rhythm and shards of brittle fretwork falling like rain on the chiming keyboards. The “Hey Baby”/“Mojo Boogie” medley rocks and rolls like Saturday night at the club while King’s reading of the 1953 Guitar Slim R&B hit “The Things I Used To Do” is precious, slowing the tempo down to a smoldering temperature while King belts out the lyrics. Definitely more up-tempo than its predecessor, a rowdy cover of Junior Well’s “Messin’ With the Kid” enlists full band participation and offers up one of King’s best vocal performances. 

Goin’ Down


Freddie King
The Don Nix blues standard “Goin’ Down” (recorded by the guitarist for his 1971 Getting Ready album) becomes putty in King’s, a raucous, rockin’, hell-raisin’ performance that knocks all of the contenders and pretenders out of the box. Contrast it with King’s masterful rendition of T-Bone Walker’s “Stormy Monday Blues,” providing the song with a sober, nuanced performance. The second disc of Feeling Alright is comprised largely of inspired and wired blues covers, King tearing through songs like Robert Johnson’s “Sweet Home Chicago” and B.B. King’s “Sweet Little Angel” with reckless abandon. The disc’s opening medley incorporates King’s classic 1961 single “Sen-Sa-Shun” with John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillun” and “Magic” Sam Maghett’s “Lookin’ Good,” creating an electrifying nine-minute-plus instrumental that blasts through your speakers like a lightning-bolt.

Muddy Waters’ signature tune, “Got My Mojo Working,” is tailor-made for King’s talents, his fluid guitar lines driving the band’s spry rhythms in creating a foot-stomping performance certain to get people out of their seats. Johnson’s aforementioned “Sweet Home Chicago” is equally audacious, slowed down to a mid-tempo barn-burner with plenty of piano and swinging bass lines to accompany King’s razor-sharp guitar solos. “The Danger Zone,” written by R&B great Percy Mayfield for Ray Charles, is a departure, a blistering ballad that King wrings dry of pathos. British rocker Dave Mason’s Traffic-era classic “Feelin’ Alright” is the album’s title track, King retaining the Mason’s hooky chorus but affording the overall song lively a funk-rock arrangement propelled by his scrappy guitarwork and Alvin Hemphill’s raving keyboard runs.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Feeling Alright: The Complete 1975 Nancy Pulsations Concert is provided lengthy liner notes by blues historian and Chicago native son Cary Baker (author of the excellent book Down On the Corner: Adventures In Busking & Street Music) that includes reflections from King’s daughter Wanda and bandmember Lewis Stephens. The set also includes a lengthy interview with Wanda King, who shares great memories of her dad. As there’s little of King’s live performance prowess available (a few tracks from Larger Than Life, a couple of bootlegs CDs, including Ebbets Field Denver ’74), Feeling Alright is a blues guitar showcase, an entertaining and provocative performance that cements Freddie’s status as one of the “Three Kings” of the blues alongside his contemporaries B.B. and Albert. (Elemental Music Records, released March 27th, 2026)

Buy the CD from Amazon: Freddie King’s Feeling Alright

Also on That Devil Music: Freddie King’s The Complete Federal Singles CD review

Monday, May 18, 2026

Book Review: Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects (2026)

Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects
Despite the fact that there’s been a thriving Nashville rock scene for better than four decades, there’s still the widespread notion that the ‘Music City’ is more country music than not, an oversight not helped by the glut of country-flavored celebrity tourist-trap bars on Lower Broadway. It’s a bit of an illusion, actually, as the best country artists (i.e. ‘Americana’) are everywhere but in Nashville. The money-making genre’s corporate infrastructure of offices and studios in the mid-city enclave known as ‘Music Row’ is a sterile construct, cranking out assembly-line music that is homogenized by producers and record labels to appeal to the largest number of middle-aged, middle American housewives as possible.

Rock ‘n’ roll has always had a rough slog in Nashville, Elvis Presley’s adventures in RCA Studio B notwithstanding. There was little or no local rock scene in the city during the mid-‘70s apart from R. Stevie Moore and his friends, who altogether combined for something like 100 different bands. But Stevie split town for Jersey and D.I.Y infamy after releasing 1978’s Phonography album, and it would take another year or so before bands like David Olney & the X-Rays, Cloverbottom, File 13, and CPS (Committee For Public Safety) would pick up the torch and start lighting stages like Springwater or the long-gone Phranks ‘n’ Steins on fire.

If rock music received a less-than-friendly reception from the “powers that be” on Music Row, punk rock was disdained, if not overlooked altogether. Still, as writer Charles “Cat” Taylor documents in Music Row Rejects, his extensive discography and history of the city’s punk scene, punk has been an integral part of the city’s rock scene since the 1980 release of Cloverbottom’s Anarchy In The Music City 7” vinyl EP. A profusely-illustrated 104-page “bookazine” (not quite a book, not quite a zine), Music Row Rejects is a welcome guide to the city’s often overlooked punk scene, which has run not-so-quietly beneath the more mainstream rock ‘n’ roll currents for decades.

It took me six years of research and writing to put together my 600+ page doorstop of a book, The Other Side of Nashville, An Incomplete History & Discography of the Nashville Rock Underground 1976-2006, which was published in 2012, so I know all too well the risks of taking on a project like Music Row Rejects. Taylor took on an immense task and acquits himself nicely. His efforts were helped, no doubt, by his own participation in the city’s ever-evolving punk rock scene over the years as the lead singer for two popular punk outfits, Rednecks In Pain and Fun Girls From Mt. Pilot, as well as a contributor to the House O’ Pain zine and indie record label.

Cloverbottom
Cloverbottom

With Music Row Rejects, Taylor documents the scene with an impressive discography of close to 200 recordings by a 100 or so bands (I’m guessing), providing release info and track lists (when available) for a wealth of punk, hardcore, and punk-pop records, CDs, and cassette tapes that represent the scene as it existed from 1980 through 1997. In many instances, he has tracked down band members to provide their perspective, or at least share some rowdy stories of their rock ‘n’ roll daze. Taylor fills it out with cool graphics like show posters, band photos, and such. It’s a fun read, and I can’t imagine the book being much more comprehensive, as there are dozens of bands that I’ve never heard, and I was covering the scene at the time for numerous publications (including my own music zines).

The Nashville punk scene’s halcyon days can be assigned to the tenure of Lucy’s Record Store circa 1992-1998, where popular bands like Jack, Fun Girls, Java Christ, and Teen Idols were booked by Lucy’s owner Mary Mancini and House O’ Pain’s Donnie and April Kendall (who had been promoting “Migraine Matinee” all-ages shows at the local club Pantheon) alongside touring national acts like They Might Be Giants and Guided By Voices. But Taylor also digs back into the early ‘80s with entries for early punk outfits like the aforementioned Cloverbottom and CPS as well as like-minded bands such as the Resistors, Placid Fury, and the Ratz. 

Fun Girls From Mt. Pilot
By the late ‘80s, bands like the popular hardcore gang F.U.C.T., Rednecks In Pain, Caustic Solutions, Tommyrot, and Zero Hour, among others, were making exciting and adventuresome music and setting the stage for the Lucy’s Records era. Taylor ends Music Row Rejects right around the time that Lucy’s closed down, which did seem to be a sort of death knell for an independent punk scene at the time. Although other all-ages clubs would open and close throughout the 2000s and since, never again was the scene as much a community than it was at Lucy’s. Two Nashville punk/hardcore bands broke out from the local scene, Teen Idols and Today Is the Today making records for indie labels with significant distribution and worldwide reach.

Cat Taylor’s Music Row Rejects is more than a mere discography of the city’s punk scene, the author providing a narrative of the scene’s creative aspirations. Many of the bands listed in the book released but a lone single or cassette, but a surprising number of them managed to produce a small, albeit impressive catalog of music, often releasing it themselves on tape or seven-inchers that have since become pricey acquisitions for well-heeled punk collectors. More than a Discogs/eBay wish list for punk rock fans, Music Row Rejects is an invaluable reference and history of a Nashville punk scene that persevered despite the obstacles presented by the city’s staid music industry. (self-published, released January 2026)

Get yer own copy o’ Music Row Rejects, email Taylor at catidball@gmail.com or check out their Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/musicrowrejectszine 

If you’re in Nashville, get you a copy at The Great Escape, Phonoluxe Records, Vinyl Tap, or Grimey’s Music...you’ll be glad that you did! 

Committee For Public Safety

 
F.U.C.T.

Lucy's Records Ad

Friday, May 15, 2026

Archive Review: Bryan Lee's Play One For Me (2013)

Bryan Lee's Play One For Me
For better than two decades, veteran New Orleans bluesman Bryan Lee has recorded for Canada's Justin Time Records, forging a quiet reputation a soulful vocalist, skilled songwriter, and vastly underrated guitarist. Beloved by fellow string-benders (just ask Kenny Wayne Shepherd, among others), that fact that Lee hasn't broken through to a larger blues audience is one of the great oversights of our time. With Play One For Me, the guitarist's Severn Records debut, Lee has a puncher's chance with the larger label at reaching the audience his talent deserves. 

It's no surprise that, in his adopted hometown, the blind bluesman is a musical institution on par with the Neville family, Dr. John, or the great Allen Toussaint. Play One For Me backs up his reputation with a phenomenal mix of Lee-penned originals and choice cover tunes that all showcase his hearty vocals and elegant guitarplay. Fronting a band that includes Fabulous Thunderbirds frontman Kim Wilson on harp and rhythm guitarist Johnny Moeller holding down the back end, Lee bites into Freddie King's "It's Too Bad (Things Are Going So Tough)" like a hungry man at a buffet, widely choosing to jazz up the original's already classy guitar line with a muted sort of grace as Kevin Anker's keys dance in the background. Howlin' Wolf's classic Willie Dixon-penned "Evil Is Going On" is given a full-bore Bourbon Street treatment with a brassy arrangement, a big beat, raging piano-play, and Lee's downright nasty guitar licks.  

Lee's original material is equally entertaining, the guitarist's "Poison" channeling a 1920s-era Delta-bred malevolence with its studio-altered vocals, ambling rhythms, and delightfully greasy fretwork. "Let Me Love You Tonight" rides an entirely different (soul) train, sounding like a contemporary take on the classic Stax Records sound with pleading vocals, Cropperesque guitar, and a rambunctious horn section while "Sixty-Eight Years Young" definitely brings the funk, a sly groove paired with a bit of Southern-fried chicken-pickin' and jaunty, tongue-in-cheek lyrics. Some 20 years and a dozen albums into his career and Bryan Lee still manages to surprise, Play One For Me an entertaining and inspired collection with no little heart and soul. Grade: A (Severn Records, released September 17th, 2013)

Friday, May 8, 2026

Archive Review: Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry (2004)

Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry
As frontman for the highly influential British band the Smiths, Steven Patrick Morrissey created the blueprint for much of what was to follow in Britpop, from early ‘90s chart-toppers like Oasis and Pulp to new millennium art-rockers like Radiohead and Coldplay. Morrissey’s self-absorbed lyrics, his ambiguous sexuality and romantic yearning, his alienation and radical politics captured England’s imagination, albeit briefly, over the course of four mid-‘80s albums. The Smiths, courtesy of Morrissey’s writing partner Johnny Marr, brought the guitar back to rock ‘n’ roll, the band’s combination of punk-inspired DIY aesthetic and British Invasion-inspired tunecraft earning the band a fair degree of commercial success in its homeland and a passionate cult audience stateside.

When the Smiths crashed and burned after Marr left the band in 1987, Morrissey jumped into a solo career without missing a beat. The following year he released his debut, Viva Hate, to significant commercial and critical acclaim, scoring hit singles with the songs “Suedehead” and “Everyday Is Like Sunday.” By the time of 1992’s Your Arsenal, the British music press had turned its back on its one-time wonder boy, openly calling Morrissey a has-been while questioning his well-earned musical accomplishments. By this time, however, the American audience had embraced the artist, driving the album to number 21 on the Billboard Top 200 chart. Morrissey’s 1994 follow-up, Vauxhall and I, climbed even higher, peaking at number 18, cementing Morrissey’s legacy as an artist. By the time of 1997’s underrated Maladjusted, the music industry had undergone a significant change in direction, with vacuous boy bands and flaxen-haired pop tarts making a mockery of Morrissey’s musical prose.   

Morrissey’s You Are the Quarry


You Are the Quarry is Morrissey’s first album in seven years, not so much a comeback as it is a reminder of the timeless quality of the artist’s muse. Morrissey’s off-putting sense of entitlement, heartworn romanticism, angst and political outrage is much in evidence throughout the album’s lyrics, the singer’s trembling vocals as engaging and mournful as they were 20 years ago. During his lengthy exile in Los Angeles, Morrissey’s status as a rock legend has outgrown his detractor’s best efforts, his band and solo work cited as crucial by artists as diverse as rocker Ryan Adams and rappers Outkast. Morrissey seems to have used his time away from the spotlight to resharpen his songwriting craft, the artist’s poison pen poised to tackle a number of relevant subjects.

“America Is Not the World” chides the artist’s adopted home for its excesses and bullying nature, Morrissey declaring his love for the country while pointing out why much of the rest of the world dislikes the U.S.A. One of many politically charged songs on You Are the Quarry, Morrissey is also quick to criticize the land of his birth in “Irish Blood, English Heart.” A wry commentary on English history, Morrissey’s vocals build from a whisper to a scream, exclaiming “I’ve been dreaming of a time/when the English are sick to death/of Labour and Tories/and spit upon the name Oliver Cromwell/and denounce this royal line that still salute him/and will salute him forever.” It’s a strong anti-monarchist statement, fitting perfectly with Morrissey’s left-leaning, humanistic viewpoint.

Trademark Melancholy


Morrissey
Morrissey doesn’t neglect his trademark melancholy with You Are the Quarry, a brace of strong songs tackling loss of faith (“I Have Forgiven Jesus”), unrequited love (“Come Back To Camden”) and the loss of privacy (“How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel?”). Throughout the album, Morrissey bares his soul even more than usual, throwing out lines that reflect his concerns about the past (“I’m not sorry for the things I’ve done”) and his place in history (“The future is passing you by”). Along the way, he lets slip that his bravado is a mask to hide behind (“Jesus – do you hate me? Why did you stick me in self-deprecating bones and skin?”). Morrissey assaults American Idol-styled “lock-jawed pop-stars” who are “so scared to show intelligence” because “it might smear their lovely career.”

Morrissey saves his most savage invective for the music industry itself, “You Know I Couldn’t Last” providing him with the last laugh and offering an experienced glimpse of the price of fame. “The teenagers who love you/they will wake up/yawn and kill you” sings Morrissey, “the critics who can’t break you/unwittingly, they make you.” Decrying the “squalor of the mind” often created by success, Morrissey sings of the pressures of expectation, “there’s a cash-register ringing/and it weighs so heavy on my back.” In life, as in song, Morrissey has turned his back on the industry, the artist’s independent streak manifesting itself in his lyrics and business decisions alike. Dealing with the industry on his own terms, Morrissey got Sanctuary Records to activate the long-dormant Attack imprint in releasing You Are the Quarry.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line


Throughout a career that has now spawned two decades, Morrissey has consistently defied expectations even while seldom adventuring beyond his (admittedly) narrow stylistic tendencies. Morrissey’s strength as an artist has always been in the confessional nature of his lyrics, his persistent dedication to craft and his connection with his audience. Although his exaggerated public persona is often attacked by critics, there is no doubting the artist’s sincerity and accomplishments. You Are the Quarry is an excellent addition to Morrissey’s oeuvre, a solid rock ‘n’ roll album that illustrates why Morrissey is held in such high esteem in the first place. (Attack Records/Sanctuary, released May 14th, 2004)

Monday, May 4, 2026

Archive Review: Various Artists - Radio Dick, Volume One (2003)

Radio Dick, Volume One
Named after the notorious pirate DJ, Pal-Tone calls its Radio Dick compilation “The 3-sided LP Series.” Each CD will feature four songs each from three distinctly different bands (thus the “3 sides”); volume numero uno offering up cuts by the American Plague, Windfall, and Vangard. The American Plague hail from Knoxville, Tennessee and sound a lot like stadium rockers trapped in punk rock bodies. “Alabama Tough Love” rips a riff right out of the Johnny Ramone playbook, pumps it up a bit with steroidal amplitude and rocks the hell out of it. The band’s other three songs shake the earth in a similar fashion, all muscular power chords and soaring vocals, kind of like a cross between Pearl Jam and Loverboy.

Windfall has a female lead vocalist, which lets you know right off the bat that you’re going to experience a different aesthetic from the Plague’s throwback crotchrock. Singer Jennifer Catucci has pretty good pipes, but fairly pedestrian material to work with, shimmering guitars and rhythmic crescendos supporting her operatic vocal gymnastics. “Kindle Eyes Nude” is the best of the batch, a hard-driving tune with clashing instrumentation, wiry leads and odd timing that works to great effect behind Catucci’s larger-than-life vocals. Of the trio of young ‘uns here, Windfall sounds the most like the big time. 

Vangard rounds out Radio Dick, Volume 1, kicking out the jams with rapid-fire, generic pop-punkola that could easily find a home on Drive Thru or Vagrant. Not that any of Vangard’s material is offensively dreck – it’s all pleasant enough I suppose, kind of like cherry cough syrup, with the sweetness covering the bad aftertaste (and the shudder of revulsion that follows). All in all, a mighty mediocre comp with little to distinguish these three bands from the universe full of rock ‘n’ roll hopefuls. (Pal-Tone Records, released 2003)

Review originally published by Jersey Beat music zine...