Billy Bragg - Worker's Playtime (2006)

"If you've got a blacklist, I want to be on it..."

By the time of the 1989 stateside release of Worker's Playtime, punk-inspired folkie Billy Bragg had found an unlikely measure of commercial success in the UK and had developed a loyal cult audience in the United States. Whereas Bragg's first two albums, Brewing Up With Billy Bragg (1984) and Talking With The Taxman About Poetry (1986), featured many politically-charged songs delivered from the singer's left-leaning perspective, they also offered up intelligent romantic commentary such as "Levi Stubb's Tears" and "Love Gets Dangerous." It is the tension of this dichotomy – the soapbox rabble-rouser shouting political rhetoric and the hopeless Celtic romantic singing love songs – that drives Worker's Playtime.

Working for the first time with noted producer Joe Boyd (Nick Drake, Fairport Convention), Bragg pretties up many of the songs on Worker's Playtime with finely tuned melodies and lush instrumentation, a stark contrast to his sparse previous work. The angry young man of Bragg's early EPs and debut album has, a half-decade later, mellowed somewhat, allowing the romantic songwriter to come to the foreground. The result is a superb collection of material like "She's Got A New Spell," the melancholy "Valentine's Day Is Over" (featuring just Bragg's voice, guitar and a piano) and the rollicking, self-effacing "Life With The Lions."

The most striking moment here, however, is "Waiting For The Great Leap Forwards," the song building from Bragg's lone piano-backed vocals to a swelling crescendo of choral voices and a grand finish. It's the defining moment of Worker's Playtime, an affirmation of the singer's social consciousness. Even so, the song displays Bragg's growing disenchantment with politics as well as his wry sense of humor. Although proclaiming that "revolution is just a T-shirt away," Bragg asks, "will politics get me the sack?" In the end, Bragg's surmises "start your own revolution and cut out the middle man," evoking Dylan's "don't follow leaders, watch the parking meters..."

Worker's Playtime proved to be commercially questionable, fans and critics alike seemingly confused by the album's tentative nature and artistic contradictions between the "new" Billy Bragg (stronger production, more instrumentation) and the "old" (guitar and vocals). In reality, the album's sublime strength lies entirely in its uneasy nature, Worker's Playtime showcasing Bragg's evolution from street busker to self-aware musician. Somewhere between album number one and number three, Bragg realized that there might actually be a future to this music thing.

The material on the bonus disc of this excellent Yep Roc reissue – studio demos and outtakes – supports this critical perspective, showing Bragg experimenting with different ways to express his music. The demo of "She's Got A New Spell," with the Attractions' Bruce Thomas and the Jeff Beck Group's Mickey Waller, evinces a rock aesthetic while "The Short Answer" sounds like low-key Graham Parker, complete with the Rumour's Martin Belmont on guitar. Other material, such as a stark, powerful cover of the Jam's "That's Entertainment" and an uncharacteristically soulful live reading of Tim Hardin's classic "Reason To Believe" display different facets of Bragg's talents.

In retrospect, Worker's Playtime is a solid collection of songs that served as an invaluable stepping stone to Bragg's work on albums like Don't Try This At Home as well as his collaboration with the band Wilco on Mermaid Avenue. It is in these grooves that you can hear Bragg becoming comfortable in his role as artist and musician, the album an important part of the artist's overall catalog and an influential release in its own right. (Yep Roc Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Worker's Playtime from Amazon.com)

Billy Bragg - Talking With The Taxman About Poetry (2006)

"But if you think all I do is press words other people use into my service Comrades, come here, let me give you my pen and you can yourselves write your own verses!" - Victor Mayakovsky, 1926

By the time of the 1986 release of Talking With The Taxman About Poetry, Billy Bragg's self-professed "difficult" third album, the artist had become the poet laureate of the musical left. A tireless troubadour of socialist leanings, Bragg placed more fervor, energy, passion and emotion in a single phrase or turn of a word than most artists are capable of mustering throughout an entire album.

After a couple of critically acclaimed British EPs and a full-length indie album, Talking With The Taxman About Poetry represented Bragg's major label debut in the United States. Although Bragg had softened some of the rough edges that endeared audiences to his early work, the lyrical arguments presented on Bragg's third album proved no less passionate, his penchant for radical polemics no less zealous.

Whereas Bragg's early songs featured only his thickly-accented vocals and an accompanying guitar, Taxman was fleshed out with a few additional strings, a horn or two, and even an occasional background harmony. The music remained stark, simple and effective, Bragg's folk-punk musical style serving to underline the importance of his lyrics. First and foremost, Bragg is a poet; a hopeless romantic with a revolutionary bent (not unlike Byron), whose lyrics deal almost exclusively with love and politics – not an entirely inappropriate combination, for one inevitably involves the other. Bragg aims his pen mercilessly at the governments, institutions and the societies that would oppress the seemingly unflagging human spirit. Bragg champions the worker as a noble creature, envisions romantic love as the Holy Grail and, at times, jabs so deep in the heart with his lyrics and often times brutal lyrics that he is able to invoke the tears/passion he himself obviously feels.

The recent Yep Roc Records two-disc reissue of Talking With The Taxman About Poetry includes the entire album, remastered and spiffed up for the digital age, along with a bonus disc of rarities and inspired covers. Songs like Gram Parson's "Sin City," Woody Guthrie's "Deportees" and Smokey Robinson's "The Tracks Of My Tears" reveal the depth and scope of Bragg's musical influences and display the artist's charm and joy in music-making.

Even after 20 years and better than half a dozen album releases, Billy Bragg remains an acquired taste. His music has never been a commercial commodity, although he has enjoyed a hit song or two along the way. As this critic wrote at the time of this album's release, Bragg "is one of the most important artists to enter the rock arena in years – perhaps the most political folksinger since young Bobby Dylan strode into Greenwich Village with a guitar in hand." Bragg remains a man with a message, a poet of uncanny vision and a socially concerned artist whose work remains as fresh and relevant today, in the days of Bush and Blair, as it was during the Reagan/Thatcher era two decades ago. Much of today's "folk revival," the acid-folk music of artists like Devendra Banhart, owes a great debt to Bragg, an artist who, inspired by the music of Joe Strummer, would go on to create inspiring music of his own. (Yep Roc Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Talking With The Taxman About Poetry from Amazon.com)

Billy Bragg - Life's A Riot With Spy Vs. Spy (2006)

When originally released in 1983, the seven-song EP Life's A Riot With Spy Vs Spy earned Billy Bragg a reputation as a historical curiosity. After all, punk rock was still hanging on while new wave and Goth had begun to excite UK audiences. Bragg, on the other hand, was a wandering English troubadour, singing of love and justice and freedom...definitely an anachronism in the modern, trend-driven, media-savvy world. At that time (as now), if you weren't a beautiful actor/model/coverboy-girl with a set of safe, bland, over-produced songs, you need not apply. Bragg didn't fit into that mold, relying instead on talent, attitude and sheer guts in his attempt to make life-changing music.

Somehow, Bragg succeeded. Never a commercial artist, but always an influential one, his creative emphasis was on the lyrics, especially with his earliest work, which eschewed niceties such as production values and lush instrumentation in favor of the word, the voice and a guitar. The result, on these seven songs, was simply devastating. A talented wordsmith with a taste for the bizarre turn of the phrase, Bragg had a sharp eye for the absurdities of modern life and relationships, and a satirical wit that sinks a razor-sharp rapier into the jugular of the subjects he aims at. Bragg's political material voiced the most radical worldview since the early days of the Clash (Joe Strummer was a major influence on Bragg's songwriting), the songs made even more effective by the sparse musical accompaniment. Bragg's love songs are both emotional and bittersweet, never maudlin, and infected with a contagious romanticism more common to the folk genre than to punk rock.

In the twenty-three years since its original release, Life's A Riot With Spy Vs Spy has aged well, songs like "A New England" and "The Busy Girl Buys Beauty" benefiting from the timeless style of Bragg's writing and performances. The Yep Roc Records reissue of the EP features the original seven-song EP on one disc, and a second "bonus" disc of unreleased rarities, alternative versions and a great cover of John Cale's "Fear Is A Man's Best Friend." Personally, I would have liked to have seen the label include the four songs from Bragg's Between The Wars EP here, to flesh out the first disc somewhat. However, this is a minor cavil, and since Bragg personally oversaw the Yep Roc reissue series, it was his choice, not mine....

In 1985, when the vinyl version of Life's A Riot With Spy Vs Spy hit these shores, I wrote that Bragg had "a great artistic future," and that although he would never become a "big star," he would always be an "interesting and dedicated performer." Through the years since, Bragg has never proved me wrong. (Yep Roc Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Life's A Riot With Spy Vs. Spy from Amazon.com)

Jello Biafra with the Melvins - Sieg Howdy! (2005)

America loves a sequel! How else could you explain the inexplicable success and dubious achievements of American Idol, the gasoline crisis or George W. Bush (Reagan-lite)? America seems to love the comforts of familiarity...but familiarity inevitably breeds contempt, and where there's contempt, you'll find Jello Biafra. For better than a quarter-century now, Biafra has given voice to our contempt, first through his groundbreaking and influential hardcore punk band the Dead Kennedys and later through a series of spoken word albums and musical collaborations with fellow travelers like Mojo Nixon, DOA and Ministry's Al Jourgensen, among others. It's safe to say, however, that Biafra has found the perfect musical foils in the Melvins.

Last year, Biafra the punk icon teamed up with grunge forefathers the Melvins to create a red-hot blast furnace of an album in Never Breathe What You Can't See. The collaboration proved to be Jello's most productive and critically-acclaimed since the heyday of the Dead Kennedys, and your humble scribe echoed the sentiments of many punk fans when, reviewing that album, I stated that "hopefully this will be but the first of several collaborations between Biafra and the Melvins." Like a kid eagerly ripping away wrapping paper on Christmas morning, the Reverend was overjoyed to open a recent package from Alternative Tentacles to find a copy of Sieg Howdy!

I'm here to tell you boys and girls, that not only does Sieg Howdy! meet the high expectations created by its predecessor, in many ways the new album passes Never Breathe What You Can't See like a DeTomaso Pantera screaming past a Volkswagen on the autobahn. Biafra sounds more comfortable working with King Buzzo and the boys, easily delivering his most spirited vocal performance in a decade or more. On the flip side, the Melvins also sound more natural backing Biafra, the band mixing shades of DK-inspired hardcore thrash alongside their trademarked metallic sludge and riff-happy, feedback-ridden instrumentation. The resulting sound is simply invigorating, a heady musical elixir that kicks the stall like a horny, drunken mule.

The songs on Sieg Howdy! also showcase some of Biafra's most inspired lyrics since Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables. Tackling issues like the "War On Terrorism," Christian extremism, the Middle East and Republican politics with deadly accuracy and more than a little intelligent humor, Biafra again proves that the pen is mightier than the sword in spreading seditious ideas and satirizing your enemy. Jello updates one of his better earlier songs as "Kali-Fornia Uber Alles 21st Century" to include Governor Ah-nold's political ambitions, while a spot-on cover of Alice Cooper's "Halo Of Flies" recreates the original song's reckless menace. Biafra even takes aim at the complacency of young punk fans with "Those Dumb Punk Kids (Will Buy Anything)" and puts his relationship with his former band members in perspective with "Voted Off The Island."

Whenever times have gotten dark, we have always been able to depend on Jello Biafra to shine a light on greed, injustice and hypocrisy. With the Melvins at his side, Biafra has delivered his most incendiary collection yet in Sieg Howdy! Ignore this album at your own peril 'cause it rocks like Friday night at a Delta juke joint and displays more intelligent thought than the entire Bush administration combined. (Alternative Tentacles Records)

Jello Biafra with the Melvins - Never Breathe 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 & 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?

It's good to hear Biafra jump back into the fray and kick out some righteous rock & 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 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.

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" reelected 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 Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Never Breathe What You Can't See from Amazon.com)

Jello Biafra - In The Grip Of Official Treason (2006)

Since President Bush's popularity has dropped faster than the Titanic what with this whole "morass" thing going on over in Iraq (and, lest we forget, Afghanistan too), a lot of otherwise spineless twits have raised up on their hind legs and started bashing the administration. Big fat hairy deal! It's easy to kick the man and his friends when they're down and out; it's another thing entirely to challenge the powers that be when, like Cagney, they're "on top o' the world, ma!"

That's where Jello Biafra comes in...for two decades and four Presidential administrations, Biafra has been the proverbial fly in the political buttermilk. The former Dead Kennedys' frontman and punk rock icon has forged an impressive second career as a speaker and social commentator. The Green Party progressive has never been afraid to tackle the big issues, pointing out the hypocrisy and contradictions of public policy regardless of whether it's the Republications or the Democrats holding the seat of power.

In The Grip Of Official Treason is Biafra's eight spoken word collection, a massive three-disc set that gathers material from several Biafra performances over the last couple of years. The extended rants on the discs run the gamut of subject matter, from U.S. policy in the Middle East and, of course, the war in Iraq to America's preoccupation with electronic gadgets and their dehumanizing effect on the social landscape. Biafra's well-researched commentary and insightful observations are delivered with no little amount of humor, a necessary ingredient to keep the bile from rising up at the harsh reality these stories reveal.

Biafra has often been accused of "preaching to the choir," that those listeners most likely to pick up spoken word albums like In The Grip Of Official Treason are those who likely already agree with Biafra's anarcho-leftist worldview. However, I don't necessarily agree with this criticism. A look at the album's liner notes shows that pieces like "Punk Voter Rally Cry" and "Die For Oil, Sucker" have been taken from a variety of live performances. From the 2004 "Rock Against Bush" tour stop in Tempe, Arizona to the H.O.P.E. 2006 Hacker Conference in NYC, Biafra is often speaking before audiences that probably don't hold firsthand memories of the Dead Kennedys. Many of his college-age audience members were still in diapers when Biafra released No More Cocoons, his first spoken word album, nearly twenty years ago.

For many of Biafra's young listeners, his observations come as a revelation, and the material you'll find on In The Grip Of Official Treason is no different. The wide range of topics covered by Biafra, all obviously thought out in detail and well documented, is stunning and best swallowed in one-disc doses. Even for someone as well-read as the Reverend, Jello still manages to teach me something that I didn't already know, opening my eyes to a new reality, however depressing it may be.

The most amazing thing about In The Grip Of Official Treason is that Biafra can still do this gig, that he still holds a glimmer of hope in the face of Democratic betrayal, Republican corruption and corporate greed. Biafra is the punk rock Diogenes searching for one honest man; or maybe he's the left-wing Paul Revere, warning us of the coming storm. Either way, In The Grip Of Official Treason entertains and enlightens, and if it doesn't piss you off, you're just not listening.... (Alternative Tentacles Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy In The Grip Of Official Treason from Amazon.com)

Jello Biafra - Become The Media (2001)

Depending on your political, social and/or cultural perspective, former Dead Kennedy's frontman Jello Biafra is a punk icon, a rock star sell-out, a hacker hero, a radical leftist, a media gadfly or a pain in the ass. Truth is, he's a little of most of these things (tho' the rock star bit is stretching it a bit, don't ya think?), which is part of his charm. A guerilla artist, Biafra has been working on the fringes of pop culture for years now, the modern equivalent of Diogenes searching for an honest man or perhaps Paul Revere, sounding the call of a corrupt society and cultural impoverishment.

Become The Media is Biafra's sixth massive collection of spoken word performances, a three-CD set that delivers almost four hours of material at the price of little more than a single CD. Culled from performances and speeches made by Jello during the millennial year, Become The Media provides listeners not just with "food for thought" but an entire nine-course meal for the intellect. Some of Biafra's observations are continuations of those from previous spoken word collections, such as his thoughts on the growing corporate domination of the media and society ("Frankenfood Landscape," "K.O. the W.T.O.") or his satirical damning of vacuous mainstream culture ("Become The Media").

Biafra was busy on the campaign trail last year, as well. A Green Party candidate for President, Biafra gave his support and endorsement to Green nominee Ralph Nader. "The Green Wedge" explains the Green Party's role and a legitimate third party and an alternative to the Republican and Democratic parties. Biafra was also at the two party conventions in Philadelphia and Los Angeles, offering his observations on what really happened and what the media didn't tell us. "Hack The Planet" was a speech given to the H2K hacker convention in New York City and tackles everything from "hacktivist" political protests to Napster. Biafra also addresses the recent split between he and his former Dead Kennedys bandmates over royalties and song licensing.

As usual, Become The Media showcases Biafra's keen eye and quick wit as a social commentator. Biafra's observations and comments are insightful, often humorous and always intelligent. Over the course of a decade and six albums, Jello Biafra has become an integral part of the counter-culture. An alternative populist and proud voice of the unheard political left, his role is to educate us, infuriate us and hopefully shock us into action. To that end, Become The Media succeeds, stimulating the listener's intellect, sneaking serious and dangerous ideas into your brain in the guise of entertainment. (Alternative Tentacles)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Become The Media from Amazon.com)

Alt.Culture.Guide FREE PDF!

Yeah, well, maybe I've lost my little mind, but the Reverend is giving away a PDF copy of the first Alt.Culture.Guide™ book, absolutely FREE, no strings attached. You just need a computer and the ability to download a rather large file.

Alt.Culture.Guide™ v1 was our the first collection of material from our music webzine, which we published for 7 years. This book includes interviews with heavy metal funkster T.M. Stevens, bluesman Richard Johnston and the MC5's Wayne Kramer; rants about the RIAA; articles on "The New Rock Sound" and "The Rise & Fall Of Heavy Metal;" as well as over 100 CD, DVD, book and zine reviews written by folks like Bill Glahn, Tommy Hash, Charlie Braxton and, of course, the "Reverend of Rock & Roll" himself, Rev. Keith A. Gordon.

A FREE copy of Alt.Culture.Guide v1?! Yes, just right click on the link below and choose "save as" to download a full-length PDF copy of the entire book, including interviews and articles that were previously unavailable online, graphics and everything. Cory Doctorow over at boing boing says that if you give your book away, you'll sell more copies. So, if you like the book, then please, please, pretty please click on the book cover above and buy a print copy from Amazon.com. Your purchase helps support the Reverend's obsessive need to write (not to mention his hunger for weird books, Cheese Whiz™ and indie-rock CDs). Don't forget to check out our other blogs, listed below, for more interesting FREE reads. Thanks, enjoy, and by all means leave a comment on one of the blogs if you like what you see!

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Max Vague - maxvague (2005)

This one came out some time ago – over a year, to be exact – but the Reverend has refrained from writing about it until now. It's not that your humble scribe couldn't put his finger on it, it's just that after reviewing nearly every Max Vague album extant, from 1991's Love In A Thousand Faces through 1998's Kill The Giant, this critic had run out of superlatives and adjectives to use in describing Vague's work. I have long asserted that Vague is the most exciting and interesting musician working in Nashville over the past decade (only the talented and chameleon-like Aashid Himmons comes close).

While other local artists/bands have been chasing trends or working in established (i.e. commercial) musical genres, Vague has continued to push the envelope, to expand his sound with various musicians, studio techniques and artistic experimentation. Yet, outside of a loyal cult following, Max gets no respect from the industry "powers-that-be" in the "Music City." These mindless authority figures that should be bowing at his feet and offering praise to the gods that Nashville has an artist as willing to bare their soul as has Vague over the course of five albums.

Vague's self-titled sixth album does not fall short of his previous work. Although he has once again expanded his sound – towards a more atmospheric vibe – the songs are all vintage Vague. A vastly underrated guitarist, Vague coaxes and coerces tones from his stick that these ears have never heard, complimenting his impressive fretwork with imaginative keyboard/synth work and sparse percussion. Unlike his last few albums, which were created with a small band including drummer Kenny Wright, Vague plays all the instruments this time around (save for a lone guitar from Wright on one song).

As per usual, Vague produced the album in his home studio, the last true lone wolf of "D.I.Y." perhaps, Vague eschewing label involvement to better capture his unique musical vision. Also per usual, Vague's production on maxvague is immaculate, his seamless layering of vocals and instrumentation in the painting of each track a fine example of self-independence that should have the recording industry quaking in their boots. If the labels can't control the production and dumbing-down of an artist's vision, how will they control the commercial process? Vague is a rebel and a pioneer and if he never records another record, he can be proud of what he has accomplished.

So what about the songs on maxvague? You could term them prog-rock or art-rock or psychedelic rock or any one of a number of useless labels and you'd be both right and wrong. Vague's unique vision is informed by the likes of Peter Gabriel, Brian Eno, Pink Floyd, the Beatles – a veritable melting pot of artist influences, filtered through an amazing creative mind. Although Vague's oblique, poetic lyrics are often times quite maddening, defying interpretation, they provide hours of food for thought and are supported by a complex, deeply-emotional soundscape.

In the wake of Vague's divorce, an identity crisis, artistic meltdown and romance renewed, much of maxvague the album deals with the mind, the fragile instrument that is the wellspring of emotion, creativity and thought. Woven throughout these songs are many questions that we could all ask of ourselves. "break it down" asks "am I cracking up? am I already there?" before concluding that "I can't connect or redirect or make sense of this mess." Vague's personal anguish comes to the fore, the artist singing "nobody will ever understand the way this feels," pointing out that emotion is truly personal and none of us ever really understand what is going on inside somebody else's heart and mind. The album-opening "lights out" features a swirl of sound that recycles a common riff from half-dozen previous songs, Vague's muted vocals almost lost in the mix. The song "break it down" features the clever use of a main vocal supported by sparse instrumentation and a multi-tracked underlying vocal that runs throughout the song.

With the cautious "321212" Vague is careful not to reveal too much, not to his audience or to friends and lovers, singing "you will never know my name, you will not see me again" over and over, denying any human connection and retreating behind a mask of emotion. The artist's alienation is profound, choking on his emotions with "sometimes," a taut, fuzzed-out guitar lead supporting the chorus "sometimes I can't get my breath," the important, insightful comment "life's a cruel teacher" hidden away in the middle of the song, almost lost amidst dense instrumentation. Clues to Vague's state of mind are scattered through the lyrics, enlightening bits of codes that defy deciphering: "I wish I was a better man." "Call me unpredictable." "All it would take is a little patience to get me through this complacence." "I'm in awe of the power, it's got me on my knees."

It is love that throws a life preserver to the drowning man, pulling him out of depression and confusion and desperation and providing a light in the darkness. The album closes with "deeper," an affirmation of being that has the protagonist fighting the feelings swelling up inside, "the door is locked, so I walk around" leads into "I'm not going there again." In the end, despite his best attempts, "you turn around and all I see" is how maxvague closes, the song cycle coming full circle, the singer traveling through a personal hell to emerge out of the darkness an older and, hopefully wiser man.

The album is also about the choices we make and the consequences that we suffer. Max Vague is a friend of mine, and although I can't say that I've always agreed with the choices that he has made through the years, he has always pursued his own vision and followed his own counsel, no matter the personal cost. There's no denying the power of his music, Vague's gift of artistic expression and his instrumental prowess making him the most consistently interesting and intriguing artist working in the American underground today. The album maxvague is an important, vital addition to the artist's canon, and a CD that should not be overlooked by any listener desiring an intense and personal musical experience. (Eleven Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy maxvague from CD Baby)

Various Artists - Rock Against Bush Vol. 2 (2004)

THE DIARY OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES

Thanks to Uncle Dick, I get to live in this neat old house for another four years. Dick said something about "the fix" being in play in Ohio this year, which fooled everybody 'cause I thought that Jeb was fixing things in Florida again. Anyway, "Rummy" says that it's about time that I had my own "enemies" list like that nice Dick Nixon fella had. One of those two girls that live here...what are their names, anyway...Mopsy and Flopsy? Hee, hee, hee...why couldn't we had a boy...I could have teached him about baseball and called him "Ace." Where was I…oh yeah, one of those girls gave me a CD for my birthday, something about Rock Against Bush Vol. 2 with a bunch of punk rock bands. Well, let's give 'er a spin on the old Victrola and see what happens!

Okay, the enemies list starts here...Green Day, check. Colin told me that "American Idiot" coulda been about me and I guess that "Favorite Son" could be me, too, so Billy Joe and them guys are on my list. Bad Religion...oh hell yeah, I've had my eyes on those Greg and Brett fellas for some time now. Operation Ivy...aren't they just Rancid without that Lars fella's badass guitar licks? Oh, Rancid is here, too, so they all go on the list! Dropkick Murphys…Irish kids from Boston, they won the World Series, but they beat the Rangers, so they go down. Flogging Molly...sounds like something we used to do back at Yale after one too many flaming rum punches! This Molly fella sounds Irish, too...note to self, ask Rummy about bombing Ireland back to the Stone Age. Never liked that snotty Colin Farrell fella, anyway....

Who else we got on this CD? No, not the Foo Fighters...dang, I like that Foo fella. Maybe I'll just have the IRS audit his taxes 'cause he'll probably have a lot of money after that Nirvana box set hits the street. Got to pay for the war some way...it's sure not coming out of my pockets! Sugarcult, sounds like a support group for diabetics. Yellowcard...isn't that what the Meskins need to work in the US? Lagwagon, Jawbreaker, Bouncing Souls…on the list. No Doubt? No doubt that Gwen Stefani is some kind of fox. Maybe I'll invite her to the White House and show her my "oval office!" Hee, hee, hee....

Hell, I'll just throw everybody here on this CD on the list and turn it over to "Homeland Security." The Dwarves, Sick Of It All, Hot Water Music, Thought Riot...there's twenty-eight songs by twenty-eight bands it says here, with twenty rare and unreleased songs. Multiply that by four members in a band and...dang, I'm no good at cipherin'. I'll get Condi to figure it out if she's through being romanced by that Steve Earle fella. Hey, he's not on this CD but he goes to the top of the list!

Who else...hey, there's a DVD here, too, with music videos from Bad Religion, that Molly fella, NoFX and some more punkers. Hey, NoFX – that's that funny "Fat Mike" fella! I like him, especially that record about doin' sheep or whatever it was. Maybe I'll "accidentally" leave them off the list. What's that guitar fella's name? Oh yeah, "El Hefe." I like that. Maybe I'll start calling myself "El Presidente," grow a beard like that Fidel fella. Hey, there's comedy videos here, there's that Ferrell guy that played me on Saturday Night Live. Now where'd I put that bag of pretzels.... (Fat Wreck Chords)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Rock Against Bush Vol. 2 from Amazon.com)

Whitesnake - The Definitive Collection (2006)

It's a common misconception that Whitesnake was just another '80s hair metal band. Before you dismiss David Coverdale's pride and joy in the same breath as Ratt, Poison or even... shudder... Motley Crue, consider Whitesnake's impressive pedigree. Upon leaving his post as Deep Purple's mid-70s frontman after a trio of overlooked and often underrated albums (Burn and Stormbringer from 1974 and Come Taste The Band from 1975), Coverdale launched a short-lived solo career. Produced by former bandmate Roger Glover for Deep Purple's Purple Records boutique label, Coverdale's 1977 debut album, titled Whitesnake, and its follow-up, Northwinds, provided the blueprint for the singer's future musical direction.

Coverdale subsequently formed the band Whitesnake to pursue his creative vision of hard-edged R&B and blooze-rock anthems. The band's first full-fledged album, Trouble, dropped in 1978, but it wasn't until 1984's Slide It In went platinum that Whitesnake climbed to the top o' the arena-rock heap. After that album's release, Coverdale shed himself of founding guitarist Mickey Moody (from his solo album days), eventually replacing the entire band and even re-recording a large part of Slide It In to feature the more photogenic guitarist John Sykes and his explosive fretwork.

Coverdale's ambitious machinations worked, as the band's self-titled 1987 set -- fueled by sexy MTV videos, hit singles in the form of "Is This Love" and "Here I Go Again," and a poppier, ballad-driven sound -- launched Whitesnake into the stratosphere. There was still trouble in paradise, however, and by the time of 1989's Slip Of The Tongue, which featured new guitarist Steve Vai, it was pretty much over. Although the album sold well and eventually went Platinum, changing musical currents ushered in the grunge era and Whitesnake -- wrongly or rightly tossed under the bus with what colleague Chuck Eddy terms "nerf metal" bands, was consigned to rock & roll history and classic rock radio formats. Although Coverdale attempted to resurrect the band in 1998, America wasn't listening.

Whitesnake's The Definitive Collection follows on the heels of half a dozen similar "greatest hits" compilations, but this one succeeds where most of the others failed. First of all, the single-disc set offers up 18 classic tracks -- not too much, not too little. Secondly, it includes harder-rocking material from the band's first three albums, European hits like "Ain't No Love In The Heart Of The City" and "Ready An' Willing" that offer the perfect fusion of soul, dirty blues and blustery hard rock that Coverdale originally envisioned. Finally, MTV-era hits like "Is This Love," "Still Of The Night," "Fool For Your Loving" and "Judgement Day," among others, still sound good almost twenty years later. Based in the R&B and soul music that Coverdale loved as a young pup, vintage late-80s Whitesnake had a musical foundation that contemporaries like Skid Row, Poison, et al didn't share, a timeless appeal that has held up through the passing years.

While Whitesnake was never the most original of bands, nor very influential in the long run, the band's run of hits and its flamboyant frontman came to epitomize '80s rock star excess. Coverdale's tale of sex, drugs, fast cars and loud guitars would make a great movie screenplay, but the music speaks for itself. Released to coincide with a live DVD/CD set from a 2005 London performance, The Definitive Collection offers up the best that Whitesnake had to give from a truly crazy decade. (Geffen Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of The Definitive Collection from Amazon.com)

Jim Testa - There Goes The Neighborhood (2004)

Make no mistake about it; Jim Testa has been kicking around the New York/New Jersey rock scene for quite some time. For nearly a quarter-century, Testa has documented this ever-changing scene in the pages of his excellent Jersey Beat music zine and for many of these years, this scribe has had the pleasure of contributing album reviews to this respected publication. Whenever a writer the stature of Testa turns his talents towards performing, however, we fellow critics have to observe the results with a microscopic eye towards the results. In the case of There Goes The Neighborhood, Testa's follow-up to last year's wonderfully wry Songs My Father Never Sang EP, the results are quite encouraging.

Testa sings in a nasally, slightly fractured voice not dissimilar to Jonathan Richman's – a friendly, folkish storytelling voice that emphasizes the lyrics and lends substance to the words. Testa is a skilled wordsmith, weaving personal observations with a fine eye for imagery into interesting tableaus that evince as much punk attitude as anything you'll hear from Good Charlotte or Sum-41. There Goes The Neighborhood opens with "Planet Williamsburg," a satirical slash at the "hipster capital" of the world delivered with sufficient venom above a spry, Tex-Mex flavored soundtrack. The forty-something Testa has a little fun at his own expense with "(I Need The) Queer Eye (For The Straight Guy)," an '80s-styled rave-up with great Farfisa organ and the singer's funny, self-effacing lyrics.

"Punk Rock Is Not Daycare" asks the eternal question, "am I punk enough?" even while delivering a blistering indictment of teen punks that have no sense of the genre's history. "(Everything Is Swell In) Weehawken" is a nod to Testa's hometown, pulling no punches as he describes the city, warts and all, with no little humor and wordplay so imaginative that you can almost smell the city streets. The hard rocking "Sally's Got A New Tattoo" the "girl next door" who has evolved into a black-clad, "hipper than thou" type looking down her nose at anybody who isn't part of her (narrow) scene. "Carla" is a song for Testa's mom, a loving ode with a country lilt. A bonus track offers the demo version of "Jean Shepherd" from his previous EP, a tribute to the writer and humorist that is both nostalgic and a reaffirmation of childhood innocence. This version isn't necessarily better than the original; it's just a good song that will evoke fond memories from any aging baby boomer.

I'd like to see what Testa could do with a real recording budget and the promotional power of a strong indie label. Both There Goes The Neighborhood and the previous Songs My Father Never Sang are entertaining and intelligent – albeit brief – collections of well-written and engaging songs. Testa may not be singing about leprechauns or ice cream men, but his material is consistently charming, witty and fun to listen to. After almost 30 years writing about music, Testa has developed an ear for what makes rock & roll work, and it shows in There Goes The Neighborhood. (Jersey Beat Music)

The Wildhearts - The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed (2004)

Long before the Darkness were credited with reviving the spirit, if not exactly the substance of "glam rock," British bands like the London Quireboys, Dogs D'Amour and the Wildhearts kept that glittering flame alive. Drawing on influences such as the Rolling Stones, the Faces and Marc Bolan's T-Rex, the riff-happy Wildhearts and their brethren created some of the most energetic and lively rock music of the '90s. Unfortunately, outside of the U.K. only a few hardcore American Anglophiles knew squat about these bands, none of which made a dent on the Seattle-dominated mid-90s rock scene. After enjoying almost a decade as the monarchy's favorite bad boys of debauchery, the Wildhearts called it a day....

After a handful of years pursuing the brass ring with other bands, Wildhearts' mastermind and frontman "Ginger" decided to reconvene the original band line-up in 2001. Ginger reunited with guitarist Chris Jagdhar and drummer Andrew "Stidi" Stidolph, recording the tentative Riff After Motherfucking Riff EP for release in Japan. The experiment must have paid off as the band released its official "comeback" CD – The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed – in England in 2003. After years of being ignored by American audiences, the disc was released stateside earlier this year. A successful U.S. tour opening for the Darkness increased the band's profile among American rockers, and the subsequent release of the newly-minted, full-length Riff After Riff on Gearhead has the Wildhearts primed for a potential breakthrough.

The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed is a transitional album. The band works hard to find a balance between its Glam-rock roots – a mix of Slade-styled bombast and Sweet-flavored riff-rock – and the harder-edged influences of the Stones, pub-rockers like Dr. Feelgood and various "new wave of British metal" bands. The pop/rock side of the band wins out here, broadcast-friendly tunes like "Vanilla Radio" and "So Into You" seemingly written specifically to appeal to radio audiences. "There's Only One Hell" offers some stellar guitar interplay and a killer hook, Ginger's vocals sounding like Nick Lowe while the band sounds like Cheap Trick, or maybe Rockpile. The engaging "Top Of The World" opens with Jagdhar's razor-sharp six-string work before tumbling into a joyous blend of vocal harmonies and driving rhythms.

There are few bands that can mix hard rock and pop melodies as successfully as the Wildhearts. Even so, many of the songs on The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed, enjoyable as they may be, are missing a certain "joi de vivre" that made previous Wildhearts' albums a crucial part of every rocker's music library. As such, The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed serves as a bookend with the recently released Riff After Riff – which itself showcases the harder-rocking, metal-edged side of the band's personality. The Wildhearts are clearly working towards a future album that will include both sides of the musical dichotomy that made the band so attractive a decade ago. In the meantime, check out The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed and get a taste of the rock & roll cheap thrills that you've been missing. (Sanctuary Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed from Amazon.com)

Bonepony - Traveler's Companion (1999)

It's safe to say that Nashville's Bonepony is, perhaps, the most unique band that you'll ever experience. Comparisons don't do them justice when there's no band on earth that these ears have heard that sounds anywhere close to the original mix of rock, folk, country, bluegrass and blues that these guys have created. The folks at Capital Records evidently agree,
dumping the band after a single fine album that the label obviously had no idea how to market. Undaunted, Bonepony
founders Scott Johnson and Bryan Ward regrouped with new member Tramp on fiddle (ex-Cactus Brothers), the trio
recording and releasing the excellent Traveler's Companion on their own SuperDuper Recordings label.

Hewing closer to traditional music forms than even many alt-country bands are willing to risk, Bonepony nevertheless rock with the enthusiasm and energy of any half-a-dozen heavy metal bands. Kicking out the jams with an unlikely mix of fiddle, mandolin, banjo, dobro and other folksy instruments and featuring excellent vocal harmonies, the raw spirit of the music serves to support the finely-crafted songs on Traveler's Companion. Original songs like the sweetly spiritual “Sweet Bye And Bye,” the country-flavored “Savanna Flowers” or the witty and charming “Fish In The Sea” are smart, engaging affairs that tend to grow on you with each hearing, regardless of the sparse nature of the backing instrumentation.

Bonepony called upon some high-octane friends to assist in making Traveler's Companion, among them Lucinda Williams, Reese Wynans, Brad Jones and Wilco's Ken Coomer. The band's production works quite well, their light touch emphasizing the songs rather than any individual agenda. Since the band had complete creative control of the project, they released the disc in a package composed of industrial hemp, using soy ink for the printing, a smart choice in my
book. If you're tired of vacuous pop artists and cookie-cutter FM radio rock bands, treat yourself to something different and check out Bonepony. Traveler's Companion is proof that you don't have to be signed to a major label to produce major league music. (Super Duper Recordings)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Traveler's Companion from Amazon.com)

Bonepony - Feeling It (2006)

It should come as no surprise that Feeling It, Bonepony's fourth studio album, should open with a song like "Home." Although the band's roster has shuffled a bit through the years, revolving around frontman Scott Johnson, the current line-up of Johnson, Nicolas Nguyen and Kenny Wright represents decades of experience and tens of thousands of miles on the road. Grizzled veterans of countless local and regional bands, the trio has earned every right to be tired, fed up with the music business and worn down by the rigors of the road. Yet "Home," at once both spry and weary, is a celebration of both those left behind and the brotherhood of the road, "singing in a traveling band." The song offers the usual mixed genres of Bonepony's sound, an overall bluesy feel complimented by a bluegrassy stomp and strum.

Concerned with relationships – with family, with friends, with fans – Feeling It is an affirmation of the band's faith in the power of music. Relationships are hard to manage when you spend 100+ nights a year on the road, and the value of a family waiting for you increases with every mile traveled. Several songs here touch upon the subject, dissecting it from different perspectives. The guys are clearly reconciling the wanderlust of their chosen profession with the need for roots and romance. Whether directly addressing the issue, as with the Southern-fried funk of "She's My Religion" or the mournful, high lonesome sound of "Colour Blue," or indirectly, as with "Good News," the question rises to the forefront of the album. The wonderful "Something Good" is classic Bonepony, sparse acoustic instrumentation matched with infectious vocal harmonies in the creation of a complex love letter that would translate well to both rock and country radio (if the medium wasn't run by idiots).

The high point, in my mind, of Feeling It is the defiant "Farewell," a recommitment to the muse that calls all three bandmembers, a casting off of the ghosts of the past and the negative energy that would drag them down. Sung by Johnson with a deliberate hesitancy, the song brings the album full circle, where all roads lead back home. It jumps directly into the triumphant title song, the band finally succumbing to the siren of the stage, balancing family and fans with the magic of the music. It's only appropriate that the album closes with "Park City Jam," a brief yet energetic reprise of "Home" with whoops and hollers and handclaps that punctuate the joy and jubilation that is the root of Feeling It.

Bonepony's music, for those unfamiliar with the band, is an eclectic mix of rock, country, folk, blues and bluegrass. It's a sound as old as the Appalachian Mountains and as alien to today's trend-driven, focus-group-created-frankenrock as you could possibly be. This is music for the heart and soul, not for corporate marketing. Bonepony's sound translates well to the stage, where the acoustic instrumentation and the band's dynamic performances can spark a fire hotter than a Delta roadhouse on a Saturday night. With no disrespect to former fiddle player Tramp, the addition of multi-instrumentalist Kenny Wright to the trio was a smart move, widening the band's capabilities even as they strip these songs down to the basics. Feeling It will both satisfy longtime fans and earn the band new fans, the album's honesty and energy an antidote to the restless dissatisfaction felt by many music lovers. If you're looking for something new and exciting, look no further than Bonepony. (Super Duper Recordings)

Aashid & the Mountain Soul Band - West Virginia Hills (1999)

For almost two decades now, Aashid Himons has been Nashville's most adventuresome musician. Sure, there's lots of players making $1,000 a session up and down "Music Row" who claim to be able to play varying styles of music, but few of them give up their cushy day jobs to blaze any new trails. From the moment Aashid first set foot in the "Music City," however, he's done whatever strikes his fancy, whether that might be playing reggae, blues, space music or even a bit of country. From his work with the first incarnation of the wonderfully talented Afrikan Dreamland through a solo career and various collaborations with other artists, Himons has reveled in the sheer joy of making music, commercial considerations be damned. With the release of the Mountain Soul CD, Aashid sojourned back to his hillbilly roots and created an inspired collection of songs that draw upon a musical tradition almost as old as the Appalachian mountains themselves.

West Virginia Hills is a live document of many of the songs from Mountain Soul, performed by Himons and his "Mountain Soul Band" at Gibson's Café Milano in Nashville. Comprised of some of the most underrated musical talents that the Nashville scene has to offer, the Mountain Soul Band is up to the task of recreating these songs in a live setting. It is a testament to Aashid's talents and the respect provided him by Nashville's best musicians that Aashid can get artists of this caliber together for such a performance. (I count at least three successful solo artists on this roster as well as former members or players with artists like Lisa Germano, the Cactus Brothers and Bonepony).

The material on West Virginia Hills is a spirited mix of blues, bluegrass, roots rock and country with elements of Celtic and African music. With spiritual and musical influences that range from the highest mountaintop in Appalachia to the lowest cotton field in the Mississippi Delta, the performances here possess the soul and fervor of a church revival and the energy and electricity of a mosh pit at any punk show. Although many of the songs are originals, such as the joyful title track or the Delta-styled "Country Blues," there are also the well-chosen covers expected of such a project, musical homage's to the artists who created the music evolve: folks like Willie Dixon, Blind Willie McTell and Muddy Waters. Aashid's mesmerizing "The Captain's Song" is another highlight from the Mountain Soul album performed here live.

There are fewer and fewer artists these days willing to "walk on the wild side" and embrace styles of music that are completely without commercial potential. Some, like Bruce Springsteen's flirtation with folk music or Steve Earle's recent bluegrass project, are natural outgrowths of the artist's roots. In other instances, however, as with Aashid Himons and the members of the Mountain Soul Band, it is done out of a sheer love and respect for the music they're performing. The material presented with much skill and reverence on West Virginia Hills is more than a mere throwback to another era – it's also the root of all the music we enjoy today. For that alone, Aashid and the Mountain Soul Band deserve a loud "thanks!" (Gandibu Music)

Aashid - Mountain Soul (1999)

Aashid Himons has been a fixture of Nashville's non-country music scene for long that it's easy to take him for granted. One of the founders of the near-legendary band Afrikan Dreamland in the early-80s, Aashid has been the voice of conscious of the Music City's alternative culture for almost two decades now. Whether as a musician exploring the depths of reggae, space music or the blues; a documentary filmmaker; host of the influential "Aashid Presents" television show; or as a crusader for many social causes, Aashid's multi-media talents have always been intelligent, vital and thought-provoking.

Nevertheless, Aashid's latest musical effort – the Mountain Soul CD – comes as a surprise in spite of his past track record as an innovator and trailblazer. A collection of country blues, hillbilly folk and other traditionally styled music, Aashid has shown us yet another facet of his immense talent with Mountain Soul's enchanting performances. An African-American with his roots in the mountains of West Virginia, Himons explains the lineage of this material in the CD's liner notes. In the harsh hills of Virginia and West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee, African slaves often played music alongside the poor Irish and Scottish immigrants of the area. The resulting collaboration created a folk music tradition that spawned such genres as gospel, bluegrass, blues and country music.

To be honest, there aren't many musicians these days exploring the artistic milieu that Mountain Soul showcases so boldly. On Mountain Soul Aashid works alongside some of Nashville's best – and most underrated – musicians, folks like Giles Reaves, fiddle wizard Tramp and bassist Victor Wooten. Himons has created here a mesmerizing song cycle that incorporates original songs written in the authentic signature of the hills as well as a handful of timeless classics. Aashid's commanding baritone is perfectly suited to this material, whether singing a soulful, blues-infused cover of Hendrix's "Voodoo Child," the mournful spiritualism of Rev. Gary Davis' "You Got To Move" or on originals like the moving "Stranger In Paradise," or with the talking blues matched by some nifty guitar work on "The Crazy Blues."

One of my personal favorites on Mountain Soul is "Mr. Bailey," Aashid's tribute to the first star of the Grand Ole Opry, harmonica wizard Deford Bailey. A talented and charismatic African-American musician from East Tennessee, Bailey's lively performances popularized the Opry radio broadcast in the thirties and helped launched the careers of such country legends as Roy Acuff and Bill Monroe. Tragically, Bailey's contributions to the Opry and American music have been forgotten. It has long been Aashid's crusade to get Bailey his long-deserved place in the Country Music Hall Of Fame, and this song is another reminder of that glaring injustice.

Mountain Soul is definitely not an album for the casual user of music, requiring more than a three minute, radio-influenced and MTV-bred attention span. Although the album's style and often times simple instrumentation might not seem so upon first listen, these are frightfully complex songs – musically multi-layered and emotionally powerful. This is music as old as the earth itself, its origins in the blood and sweat and tears of the common people who created it. With Mountain Soul Aashid Himons has paid an honor to both the roots of all popular modern music and the forgotten artists who wrote it. Mountain Soul is an artistically and spiritually enriching listening experience, a musical trip through time that will clear the cobwebs out of your ears, rekindle the fire in your heart and remind you of the reasons you began to love music in the first place. (Gandibu Music)

Joe Grushecky & the Houserockers - True Companion (2004)

Pittsburgh's Joe Grushecky may well be rock music's least-known cult artist, his long time backing band the Houserockers perhaps the best bar band in America. An underrated songwriter and storyteller and a guitarist of no little skill, if not for his connection with fellow blue-collar rocker Bruce Springsteen, Grushecky would get no respect at all. In the eyes of many critics, however, Grushecky's 2002 solo effort Fingerprints outdistanced Springsteen's The Rising in both ambition and pure rock & roll thrills.

Working without the Houserockers net, Grushecky's solo turn was impressive, but it also proved to be invigorating. Back in the studio with the band he's fronted in one form or another for a quarter-century, True Companion is the Houserockers' sixth studio album and first release in almost five years. The time apart has allowed players like guitarist Billy Toms, bassist Art Nardini, drummer Joffo Simmons and the others to recharge their batteries. The chemistry between band and band leader is undeniable and Grushecky has delivered a solid batch of songs for True Companion, the Houserockers responding with spirited, energetic performances that have more in common with the Stones, CCR and Memphis soul than with anything you'll hear on the radio these days.

Grushecky is at his best when writing about his place in the world around him, and True Companion offers several insightful (and revealing) glimpses into the soul of the man. "A Long Way To Go" is a perfect recounting of the joys of rock & roll, the lyrics tracing the artist from enthusiastic teenage rocker to middle-aged family man and rock & roll lifer who has come too far to quit now. It's as close to a biography as Grushecky has allowed, the defiant closing lines – "I still want to rock and roll/Hell I'm only in my fifties/And I still got a long way to go" – stating that the old dog still has some music left in him yet.

"Strange Days" is the opposite side of the coin, however, the wondering aloud of a man whose best efforts have been overshadowed by the success of lesser artists. Grushecky has always ignored trends, playing a timeless style of rock & roll, although it has cost him greatly. "If only I would have known," he sings, "maybe I would have changed my look." He continues "Someday I'm going to write a book/And tell the world out there/About a mighty man they have overlooked/And spread my philosophy/Hey man, it ain't what you eat, it's who's the cook." Whether we like it or not, age catches up with all of us, and self-doubt creeps in when "all the things I like are so outdated." Grushecky knows that the world has little place for a fifty-something rocker that few have heard of, yet he continues to hope that "tomorrow's a better day."

It is with the title cut, "True Companion," however, that Grushecky delivers on every promise that he has ever made to his listeners. With a mournful melody reminiscent of Springsteen's "The River," the artist questions his ability to carry on in the face of indifference. In reflecting, he draws strength from those he cherishes – his father, his wife and his family. Seldom has Grushecky's guitarwork flown so high, punctuating his lyrics with a lonesome wail that channels the ghosts of a dozen Delta bluesmen. It's not the only time on True Companion that Grushecky calls upon his family to get him through – "Count On You" is a wonderful love song for his wife, a Southern-fried rocker with a funky rhythm and enough joy to share, a musical departure and a lyrical gem.

Grushecky has not abandoned his trademark tales of blue-collar woe on True Companion. "She's A Big Girl Now" tells the story of a domestic abuse victim that manages to break free and start a new life while "A Shot Of Salvation" offers the lament of every family living paycheck to paycheck in a world where there are "too many songs, not enough soul." The lively "A Silver Spoon" pokes fun at the privileged few that run this country while "The Shape I'm In" is a hard-rocking accounting of the fears experienced every day by both those who punch a clock and those who have no clock to punch. An electrifying cover of the garage rock classic "Dirty Water" is dedicated to the hometown that has supported Grushecky for decades (and the three rivers that define the city).

The album closes with "Call Him," the artist coming to grips with the trials and self-doubt experienced across the previous ten songs, finding solace in his faith and the ability to carry on in the face of the dream-crushing daily treadmill. "Well I get up in the morning/And I do it all again/And I never tell nobody/About the pain I'm in" sings Grushecky, searching for a light to lead him out of darkness. It's a powerful and personal song and a magnificent testimonial. Throughout all of True Companion, Grushecky's guitar moans and cries and screams like a tortured soul, the Houserockers offering dignified support behind Grushecky's soulful vocals.

Far too often has Joe Grushecky been compared to Bruce Springsteen, denied his place as a rock & roll original. If not for decisions made long ago, or perhaps a stroke of luck or fate's touch or whatever you want to call it, their roles might have been reversed. Grushecky is a true rocker, an artist of distinctive voice that stands in nobody's shadow. He keeps struggling to create the perfect rock & roll album because that's all he knows to do. True Companion showcases Grushecky's best work yet, proof positive that you're never too old to rock & roll. (Schoolhouse Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy True Companion from Amazon.com)

Joe Grushecky & the Houserockers - Down The Road A Piece Live (2000)

A few years ago – 1995 to be exact – I saw a rock & roll show that, if not number one on my all-time list, stands in the top three out of over 200 shows I've attended. No, it wasn't the Stones or the Who or one of rock's legends that I saw. Those guys couldn't hold a candle to the spectacle that I witnessed that night. Sitting in a dark, smoky club in Nashville I watched Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers demolish the joint. Six guys crammed on a stage the size of a postage stamp; they spilled out onto the floor and, in the case of lead singer/guitarist Grushecky, on top of the tables. I'd waited fifteen years to see one of rock's most underrated talents perform live, and Joe and his crew did not disappoint.

At the beginning of the show there were exactly three people in the audience who were familiar with the band (my wife and myself and one of Joe's former producers). After two sets stretched out over almost three hours, it's a safe bet that nobody leaving the club that night would ever forget Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers. I've thought about that night a lot since then, played it over again in my head, smiling, and marveling that a middle-aged man (only slightly older than myself) could still bring such energy and passion to a live performance. After the show I asked Joe what prompted a man to keep on toiling away in a field that had always shown him such indifference. "It's rock & roll" was his reply and it's all he had to say....

If there was a lick of justice in this wicked world – and we all know that there is none – Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers would be revered as elder statesmen of rock rather than as one of the genre's more obscure cult bands. The Houserockers would be facing the twilight of their musical careers with their walls covered in platinum records and mucho money in the bank. If this sounds like a fan talking, well, I am and have been since I bought that 7" picture disc of the Iron City Houserockers first single "Love's So Tough" some twenty years ago. The critic in me, however, recognizes that Joe Grushecky truly is one of rock music's greatest treasures and that in spite of the commercial and corporate indifference that he's faced during the past two decades, Grushecky still manages to kick out a new album every two or three years.

I can't help but thinking that this career insecurity should be taking its toll, but you wouldn't be able to tell it from Grushecky's music. Each album shows a little harder musical edge, the songs featuring more insightful lyrics. Over the course of four I.C. Houserockers albums and five "solo" releases, Grushecky has matured as an artist and performer in a manner that greater career comfort probably wouldn't have nurtured. At an age when most men are counting their pension funds and looking forward to playing golf three days a week, Joe Grushecky is still following his rock & roll dream with a fervor and reckless abandon that young cubs less than half his age can't muster. All of which is my way of bringing you, gentle reader, to the subject at hand: Down The Road A Piece Live.

For a band that has earned their audience one set of ears at a time by delivering uncompromising live performances night after night, it's somewhat strange that they haven't released a live album before now. A few Houserockers performances have found their way into tape trading circles (I have one tape spirited out of WMMS-FM in Cleveland that is phenomenal), circulated among rabid fans. There are also a couple of so-called Springsteen bootleg discs – Paradise By The Sea and Nick's Fat City – that are really Houserockers performances that the Boss happened to wander onstage during the taping. Down The Road A Piece Live is the band's first official live set and it sounds, to these ears, as representative of a Houserockers onstage performance as you're going to capture on disc.

Assembled by Grushecky and the band, Down The Road A Piece Live is as much a career retrospective as it is a performance disc. Of the baker's dozen songs that are on the disc, some are from the Iron City Houserockers days, a few are from Grushecky's early solo career and the rest from his later studio efforts, American Babylon and Coming Home. The album is designed as a straight-ahead rocker, with no fluff and no slow moments – just high octane, turbo-charged street level rock & roll. Grushecky has always been known as a populist songwriter in the Springsteen vein, but I honestly think that he brings a working class perspective to his material that Springsteen hasn't been able to for years. Several of Grushecky's anthemic "call to arms" are here, including the haunting "Dark And Bloody Ground" and the angry "How Long."

Other Grushecky originals are inhabited by the kind of literary characters that only a few songwriters can create, such as the memorable Frankie in "Dance With Me" or the star-crossed lovers of "Blood On The Bricks." Springsteen even drops in for a few songs here, including one of the best Elvis songs ever written, "Talking With The King." Behind all of these songs stands a band as polished and as rowdy as any rock & roll has ever produced. Although many refer to Grushecky's post Iron City albums as "solo" efforts, they're really band creations that rely as much on the foundation of original I.C. Houserocker Art Nardini's bass and drummer Joffo Simmons drums as they do on Grushecky's taut guitar playing and trademark vocals.

These guys have been playing with Grushecky for more years than the lifespan of many better-known bands' entire careers, and it shows in this performance. A Houserockers show is an exercise in musical chemistry and a sincere love of rock & roll – after all, these guys ain't getting rich here, folks! When Billy Toms steps out front on guitar, Joe Pelesky screws up his face and makes a run down the keyboards, Bernie Herr adds some fine percussion touches to a song or Joe G. himself climbs atop your table to kick out the jams, the joy and release that they feel is infectious. It's what rock & roll should be about and for Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers, it always will be....

The bottom line on Down The Road A Piece Live: buy it! Forget that trendy new punk rock record or moody, dark-hued album by this week's latest "rock rebels." Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers bring more energy, attitude and sincerity to their music than any of those chart-topping poseurs, kicking out each night's sets with the same blood, sweat and tears that they did twenty years ago. One of rock's true original indie bands, Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers don't get the respect that they deserve but deserve every ounce of respect that they've earned. If I had to pick one record to explain to future generations what rock & roll was about, this would be it. That's all there is to say.... (Schoolhouse Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Down The Road A Piece Live from Amazon.com)

Neanderthal Spongecake - The Side Effects Of Napalm (1999)

Neanderthal Spongecake is the musical alter ego of a one Cevin Soling, a charming, witty and not unskilled artist who is having way too much fun with The Side Effects Of Napalm. This is the sort of record that drives "serious" rock critics – the kind with reputations and six figure books deals – to apoplexy. A surrealist rock & roll romp across a musical horizon that even Dali couldn't capture on canvas, The Side Effects Of Napalm is a quirky, funny, maddening and slightly confusing collection of songs that do a fine job of showcasing Soling's unique talents.

To try and pin down The Side Effects Of Napalm to some sort of critical categorization just won't work. The songs here run the gamut from the serious to the absurd – from Soling's heartfelt ode to his tapeworm, a song about "Swamp Gas" or theological reflections on a "Boss God" that includes questions about the Almighty's upbringing. "Everything" is a bluesy garage band-styled tune that is as close as Neanderthal Spongecake comes to a love song. A fine cover of Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" (with Kevin Dubrow on guest vocals) is later reprised as the hilarious "Slacker Health" ("Bang your head," indeed!). "Buffalo" is a great song about the charms of that underrated city on Lake Erie while "Tastes Like Chicken" is, well, just plain damn weird.

Altogether, The Side Effects Of Napalm is quite an infectious collection, an album that will gradually grow on you – not like leprosy, but rather like mono. You're not sure where you got it from, but you probably had a good time getting there. The Rev sez "check it out!" (Xemu Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy The Side Effects Of Napalm from Amazon.com)

Monster Magnet - Dopes To Infinity (1995)

What the '90s are lacking, if I can inject my two cents worth here, is a truly Heavy rock and roll band. Sure, there's grindcore, death metal and metallic rap, punk rap and hardcore punk and a dozen other variations on the old guttural vocals/loud 'n' fast guitars/monster rhythm combo, but there's no really, really HEAVY rock outfit ... the kind of stuff that an early Bob Seger (before he hit middle age and senility) used to call "Heavy Music."

After all, the '60s had Dust, Sir Lord Baltimore and Vanilla Fudge and the '70s had Led Zeppelin, Hawkwind and the mighty Black Sabbath. Even the '80s – the great cesspool that was the Reagan era – produced Heavy bands in Metallica, Slayer and the rest of Tipper's demon-inspired nightmares. Kids these day have nobody to call their own, no righteous headbangers that they can tell tales to their grandchildren about – "well, chilluns, I remember the night that we pried Ozzie up off of a hardwood floor in a West Nashville bar and propped him in front of a mike. Sabbath rocked so hard that they were wheeling them out of the auditorium in iron lungs!"

With the best interests of these young ones at heart, I'd like to nominate Monster Magnet for the open position of the "Heaviest Band of the '90s." Dopes To Infinity, their latest effort, comes mighty close to recreating the magic that all of those aforementioned bands brought to their Heavy creations. First of all, they've got a great name, one that would look good on a patch or a school notebook (and that's important!). Secondly, they've got great song titles -- stuff like "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" or "Look To Your Orb For The Warning" or, lest we forget, "Ego, The Living Planet." Most importantly, as we used to say once upon a time, Dopes To Infinity kicks out the jams with a dozen powerful, psychedelic-tinged rock tunes. Thunderous, spacey, hypnotizing and capital-H Heavy, Monster Magnet are no mere pretenders to the throne, but rather real contenders for the crown. (A&M Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of Dopes To Infinity from Amazon.com)

Sublime - 40 Oz. To Freedom (1993)

Sublime have been popping up everywhere these past few months, with material appearing on an impressive number of compilation discs and soundtrack albums. Regardless of whether the band has the "manager from hell" shilling for them to get so many choice cuts placed or that somebody out there in rockland actually has some taste is irrelevant, the fact is that Sublime are one of the hottest, funkiest, freshest bands that these tired ears have heard in a long time. If you don't believe me, grab a taste of 40 Oz. To Freedom.

Sublime's 40 Oz. To Freedom kicks out a crazed blend of funk, rap, rock, ska and Latin-flavored jazz, mixing in a healthy dose of found vocals, random media samples and exquisite noise. There's the prerequisite ode to the sweet leaf, "Smoke Two Joints," complete with realistic sucking bong sounds, as well as "Let's Get Stoned," with its vibrant '60s-style guitar work and reggae rhythms. A wonderful homage to one of rap's legendary artists, "KRS-One" pays a great deal of respect to those who have blazed the trails before them. A handful of covers scrambles things up a bit on 40 Oz. To Freedom, ranging from an unexpected reading of the Dead's "Scarlet Begonias" to a forceful rendition of Bad Religion's "We're Only Going To Die For Our Arrogance." Above all else, Sublime infuse their work with a high-spirited, reckless abandon. Truly joyful performances like those on 40 Oz. To Freedom are too few and far between in today's alternative rock world. (Skunk Records/MCA)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of 40 Oz. To Freedom from Amazon.com)

Sublime - Sublime (1996)

We've been watching Sublime's constant growth in popularity during these past few years. With electric live performances, a pair of solid indie label releases and well-timed placement of individual songs on a variety of soundtrack and compilation albums, Sublime managed to create a widespread buzz on the street with their original blend of punk, rap, reggae/ska and psychedelic-tinged hip-hop. They were poised for greatness, perhaps the hottest, freshest band to break-out of the indie rock world since Nirvana.

After completing the band's self-titled third album – a major label deal between their indie label Skunk Records and the multi-national MCA – Sublime frontman Brad Nowell succumbed to the plague of drug abuse that is so widespread in the rock world these days, overdosing on heroin last summer. The loss of their charismatic, extremely talented singer/songwriter/guitarist has turned Sublime's greatest artistic triumph into their sadly-lamented swan song. Nowell was the architect of Sublime's unique sound, the band his artistic vision in the flesh. Without him, the trio no longer exists.

It's a damn shame, too, because Nowell and Sublime created in Sublime, the album, a multi-textured, complex work that stands as one of year's best efforts. An artistic masterpiece that fuses the multi-cultural influences that drove the band with a myriad of musical styles, Sublime ties together Southern California street culture, in all of its wonderful diversity, into a splendid musical document. Produced with great care and precision by Paul Leary and David Kahne, listening to these grooves is like walking down the sidewalk in some great street bazaar. There's Hispanic hip-hop, Cali-styled hard-core punk, honest Jamaican reggae and a shopping list full of other musical and cultural influences absorbed with glee by Nowell and exhibited on Sublime.

Nowell was an impressive guitarist, with still-maturing technical skills and an ear for the hot riff. He had a fine vocal range, able to shout with the best of them or caress his lyrics like a long-lost love. His greatest talent was as a songwriter, however, an artist capable of boiling complex subjects down into street-smart simplicity. An fine example would be the song "Pawn Shop," with a dark reggae rhythm punctuated by Nowell's wicked guitar riffs and vocals repeating the line "down there at the pawn shop." After admonishing us that "it's a nifty place to shop" Nowell brings this short, six-line song home with the closing lines, "what has been sold is not strictly made of stone, please remember, it's flesh and bone," summing up the emotional toll that is extracted by poverty as symbolized by the pawn shop, known on the street as the "poor person's banker."

There's plenty of excellent material to be found on Sublime: "Under My Voodoo" is a punk-tinged psychedelic rocker that evokes the spirit of Hendrix; "Get Ready" mixes sly hip-hop and ska beats with a tale of music, marijuana and the law; the sexual antics of "Caress Me" are underlined with the hilarious line "I'm hornier than Ron Jeremy;" the sprightly, electric "What I Got" is a joyful exclamation of life and love while "Paddle Out" outlines "all the best spots in the land," a lesson in geography provided in innocence from a homeboy seeing the world outside of the 'hood for the first time.

Only time will tell if Bradley Nowell receives the acclaim he so richly deserves, whether he'll be deified alongside legends like Darby Crash and Sid Vicious or sadly slip into obscurity. For a single, shining moment, however, with the release of Sublime, he has received an artistic immortality that will surely withstand any test of time. (Skunk Records/MCA)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of Sublime from Amazon.com)

Pete Berwick - Only Bleeding (2002)

Like many a troubadour before him, Pete Berwick made his way to Nashville in search of fame and fortune. Also like many artists that walked that same road, he ended up returning home years later without much fame and even less fortune. Berwick did all the things expected of an artist in the Music City, playing his songs at "writer's nights" in local clubs at night and working a day job at the car wash while waiting for his big break. He signed a songwriting deal with a storefront publisher and hooked up with a fly-by-night indie label. What seemed like a sure thing, a track placed in the River Phoenix movie The Thing Called Love, came to naught when his manager lacked the juice to get the song included on the soundtrack album.

After his Nashville fiasco, Berwick moved back to Chicago, older, wiser and just a little worse for the wear. He gave up music for a while, playing sporadically and writing a few songs. Luckily, the story doesn't end with this tale of dashed hopes and broken dreams. The attraction of the muse is a strong one, and I've personally never met a serious artist who could be kept away from their creative outlet for long. Berwick gathered a group of grizzled Chicago rock-and-blues veterans to record one song in the studio; they ended up recording Only Bleeding, a ten-track reaffirmation of the power of rock & roll, and a fresh start for Pete Berwick. A fiercely independent songwriter and performer who has found that he doesn't need the corporate label system to make a musical statement, Berwick's fourth album is the accumulation of almost a decade of artistic trials and tribulations.

Only Bleeding showcases all of Berwick's various influences and incarnations, the songs mixing rock, country and blues in the creation of a heady musical elixir. "Must Think She Loves Me" and the hilarious "Nuclear Boy" are energetic, punk-tinged rockers while "Cold Steel Gun" is a barroom weeper complete with T.C. Furlong's delicious steel guitar and Berwick's appropriately morose vocals. With the biker anthem "Outsider" Berwick has created a new musical genre -- "metallic country" -- the song a defiant declaration of alienation that matches Nashville twang with tasty power chords. The title track is a Dylanesque country blues tune with wonderful vocals, Berwick's mournful mouth harp work and well-placed piano courtesy of Denny Daniels. The album-closing "Standing At The Gates Of Hell" is a lively rocker with brilliant imagery, the story of a poor working class loser who dies and shows up "at the gates of hell" only to find that they won't let him in. It sounds a lot like Jason & the Scorchers -- another obvious influence -- but with Berwick's Rodney Dangerfield-like lyrics and dynamic delivery it's a wonderful pairing of roots rock and honky-tonk soul.

It's with "Gotta Get Out Of Here," the centerpiece of Only Bleeding, that Berwick hits that once-in-a-lifetime adrenaline O.D. where decades of rage and frustration are expressed perfectly in a three-minute rock song. In the tradition of Eric Burdon's "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place" or Bruce Springsteen's "Jackson Cage," the song is about hopelessness and dashed dreams and, in a more personal vein, the torment of being a talented musician in a land of mundane mediocrity. When Berwick sings "I got a daytime job, teevee at night, if the boredom don't kill me, then the cigarettes might," he's expressing the fears of every factory worker, slaughterhouse grunt and service industry wage slave who suspects that there must be something more to life. For Berwick, the song itself is an act of transcendence, its performance "getting" him out of here, his tortured vocals and screaming guitar allowing the artist a brief moment of escape. It's a powerful musical moment, a solid example of why most of us started listening to rock & roll in the first place.

Berwick sees the world of human relationships and frailties with a folkie's sensitivity and writes about them with the poetic blue-collar perspective of a Steve Earle or Bruce Springsteen. A gifted songwriter and charismatic performer, Berwick is a true rock & roll survivor, an artist of integrity and vision who never even stood a chance in the industry babylon that is Nashville. Only Bleeding offers an eclectic mix of styles that defies industry homogenization to deliver a strong and thoroughly enjoyable musical experience for the listener. Pete Berwick has been singing his songs for a small, if faithful audience for far too long; with Only Bleeding, people will be forced to listen. (Shotgun Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of Only Bleeding from Amazon.com)

Tommy Womack - Stubborn (2000)

After listening steadily to Tommy Womack's debut album, Positively Ya-Ya, constantly for a couple of years, I've finally figured it out, put my finger on Womack's place in this great rock & roll whatsis. The recent arrival of Stubborn, Womack's brilliant sophomore effort, reinforces my conclusion: Tommy Womack is the new Harry Nielsen! Now, now, stay with me here. Much like that maligned and often-overlooked pop genius, Womack is capable of performing in a number of musical genres, from rock and blues to country and everywhere in between. Both artists write great songs with slightly skewed lyrical perspectives, and both have a keen eye for skilled sidemen. Whereas Nielsen would enter the studio with various Beatles in tow, Womack records with the cream of Nashville's underrated rock music scene, talents like Will Kimbrough, George Bradfute, Mike Grimes, Ross Rice and Brad Jones. Womack may have a more southern-fried perspective than Nielsen, but the parallels are obvious.

Womack's Stubborn opens with the chaotic "Rubbermaid," a short stream-of-consciousness rant similar to Captain Beefheart or John Trubee, backed by syncopated drums and flailing harmonica. It jumps from there right into "Up Memphis Blues," an energetic rocker with a blues edge that includes some tasty slide guitar courtesy of Al Perkins. "Christian Rocker" is a hilarious interlude with fantastic imagery dropped in between songs while "I Don't Have A Gun" is an angry blues tune featuring appropriately tortured vocals from Womack and some southern rock styled six-string work from Womack and George Bradfute.

"For The Battered," a song from Womack's old band and Southeast legends Govt. Cheese, is recycled here as an electric blues with some wicked, dark-hued slide guitar from Will Kimbrough supporting the story. It's the most powerful musical statement that I've heard on domestic violence and I still get chills every time the asshole girlfriend beater's karma catches up with him. Stubborn's single cover is of the Kink's "Berkeley Mews," a somewhat obscure Ray Davies gem offered here in a fairly straight-forward rendition that says as much about Womack's sophisticated musical tastes as it does about his ability to pull the song off on record.

Most critics, when writing of Womack, praise his songwriting abilities, pointing out the numerous characters that live in his songs. They're really missing Womack's strongest skill, however -- any hack can people their songs with junkies, whores and ne'er-do-wells of various stripes (listen to any heavy metal lately?). Womack's strength is in his composition of memorable lines, clever and intelligent lyrical bombs often thrown into the middle of songs to infect the listener's consciousness days after hearing a song. Witness some of the poetic explosives hidden in the songs on Stubborn: "I'd crawl back in the womb right now if Jesus would show up and point the way." "Gonna find me a woman who won't fall apart on the witness stand." "I want to be a Christian rocker but the devil's got all the good drummers." "She was a Presbyterian in a porno picture, tossing her values aside." "You can all go straight to hell, you'd better cut and run, get on your knees and thank the lord that I don't have a gun."

It's a skill that separates Womack from the mundane "Music Row" factory writers in Nashville even as it marginalizes him from the whitebread world of radio and mainstream music. It also shows his Southern heritage as religious tradition and rock & roll yearnings clash for the soul of the songwriter with the resulting imagery creating some of rock's best rhymes. Among southern rockers, only Jason & the Scorchers' Jason Ringenburg and, perhaps, Alex Chilton can match Womack word for word.

The material and performances on Stubborn sound more confident, Womack's talents sharply honed by a couple of years of live shows and collaborations with other artists. A gifted storyteller, an amazing songwriter and an energetic performer, Womack is one of Nashville's best and brightest. Although an indie rocker in style and attitude, Womack's work deserves the widest audience possible, distribution and promotion that only a major label could provide -- if any of the corporate A&R geeks could get their collective heads out of their respective boss' rear ends long enough to listen. Personally, as long as Womack gets to keep making records like Stubborn I'll be happy enough. (Sideburn Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy a copy of Stubborn from Amazon.com)

Tommy Womack - Positively Na Na (1998)

A long-time fixture of the Nashville area music scene – first as a member of the legendary Bowling Green, Kentucky band Govt. Cheese and later as a part of Will Kimbrough's vastly underrated band Bis-quits – Tommy Womack finally gets to flex his muscle and show off his stuff with a solo album. With Positively Na Na Womack scores an artistic bull's-eye.

Positively Na Na is a solid collection of country-flavored pop tunes that evince the same sort of quick wit and black humor that Womack showed in The Cheese Chronicles, his memoirs of life on the road with Govt. Cheese and possibly the best book ever written about rock & roll. Womack works with one foot firmly in the sort of roots rock practiced by Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty and the other foot in the same honky-tonk country that influenced folks like Jason & The Scorchers. Possessing a knack for story-telling, Womack pens intelligent, self-referential lyrics, the songs often dangling more than a few pop hooks from their infectious choruses.

Stand-out tracks on Positively Na Na include "Skinny & Small," the rightful revenge of every junior high non-jock; and Womack's ode to lost rockers, "Whatever Happened To Cheetah Chrome?" With a band that includes Nashville pop maestro Brad Jones (who also co-produced the disc), guitar wizard George Bradfute and the multi-talented Ross Rice, Womack pulls off with Positively Na Na that most difficult of tricks: a debut album that is as smart, likeable and entertaining as its creator. Far too talented for major label suits to recognize, Womack remains one of Nashville and the indie world's greatest secrets. (Checkered Past Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Positively Na Na from Amazon.com)

Alt.Culture.Guide Archive Index

CD REVIEWS

The 101ers / Elgin Avenue Breakdown Revisited

Aashid / Mountain Soul

Aashid & the Mountain Soul Band / West Virginia Hills

Against All Authority / The Restoration Of Chaos & Order

Against Me! / As The Eternal Cowboy

Alice Cooper / Billion Dollar Babies

Alice Cooper / Welcome To My Nightmare

Anti-Flag / For Blood And Empire

Anti-Flag / The Terror State

Backyard Tire Fire / Bar Room Semantics

Bad Religion / All Ages

Bad Religion / Stranger Than Fiction

Balzac / Out Of The Grave And Into The Dark

Richard Barone / Clouds Over Eden

The Beat Farmers / Viking Lullabies

Adrian Belew / Side One

Dan Bern / New American Language

Pete Berwick / Only Bleeding

Jello Biafra / Become The Media

Jello Biafra / Beyond The Valley Of The Gift Police

Jello Biafra / In The Grip Of Official Treason

Jello Biafra with the Melvins / Never Breathe What You Can't See

Jello Biafra with the Melvins / Sieg Howdy!

Frank Black / Honeycomb

Black Rob / Life Story

Black Sabbath / Reunion

Black Sunday / Tronic Blanc

Blue Oyster Cult / Agents Of Fortune

Bonepony / Feeling It

Bonepony / Traveler's Companion

Box Of Frogs / Box Of Frogs & Strange Land

Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise / What About That: New Year's Eve Live In Bloomington

Billy Bragg / Life's A Riot With Spy Vs. Spy

Billy Bragg / Talking With The Taxman About Poetry

Billy Bragg / Worker's Playtime

Circle Of Dust / Circle Of Dust

Cluster & Eno / Cluster & Eno

Edwyn Collins / Gorgeous George

Sam Cooke / The Rhythm and the Blues

Corporate Avenger / Freedom Is A State Of Mind

Current 93 / Black Ships Ate The Sky

The dB's / Like This

The Dead Kennedys / Frankenchrist

The Dead Kennedys / Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death

The Dead Kennedys / Mutiny On The Bay

Def Leppard / Rock Of Ages

The Dictators / Bloodbrothers

Down By Law / Punkrockdays

Greg Dulli / Greg Dulli's Amber Headlights

Steve Earle / Sidetracks

Stace England / Greetings From Cairo, Illinois

Entombed / Unreal Estate

Roky Erickson / I Have Always Been Here Before

Faith No More / King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime

Falconer / Grime vs. Grandeur

The Fleshtones / Beachhead

Reeves Gabrels / Rockonica

The Georgia Satellites / Keep The Faith

Grin / The Very Best Of

Joe Grushecky & the Houserockers / Down The Road A Piece Live

Joe Grushecky & the Houserockers / True Companion

Guided By Voices / Bee Thousand

Trey Gunn Band / Live Encounter

Richard Hell / Time

Jimi Hendrix / Experience Hendrix, The Best Of Jimi Hendrix

Billy Idol / Devil's Playground

Immortal Lee County Killers / These Bones Will Rise To Love You Again

Killing Joke / Pandemonium

Al Kooper / Rare & Well Done

Living Colour / Live From CBGB's

Living Colour / Pride

Living Colour / Vivid

The London Quireboys / This Is Rock & Roll

Mad For The Racket / The Racketeers

Manic Street Preachers / Street Preaching [bootleg]

Mardo / Mardo

Mardo / The New Gun

Shane McGowan & the Popes / The Snake

Meatloaf / Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell

Meatloaf / The Very Best Of Meatloaf

John Mellencamp / Scarecrow

John Mellencamp / The Lonesome Jubilee

Midnight Oil / Earth And Sun And Moon

Ministry / Rantology

Modern English / Life In The Gladhouse 1980-1984

Monster Magnet / Dopes To Infinity

Gary Moore / Live At The Marquee

Van Morrison / Too Long In Exile

Mountain / Over The Top

Napalm Death / The Code Is Red...Long Live The Code

Neanderthal Spongecake / The Side Effects Of Napalm

Nihilist / The Nihilist Demos

Willie Nile / Beautiful Wreck Of The World

Shuggie Otis / Shuggie's Boogie: Shuggie Otis Plays The Blues

Ozric Tentacles / Spirals In Hyperspace

Paw / Dragline

Pissing Razors / Where We Come From

Pitch Black / This Is The Modern Sound

Porcupine Tree / Deadwing

Radio Birdman / The Essential Radio Birdman (1974-1978)

Rage Against The Machine / Evil Empire

Rage Against The Machine / Who's On First? [bootleg]

The Ramones / Adios Amigos

Rancid / ...And Out Come The Wolves

Rare Earth / The Best Of Rare Earth (The Millennium Collection)

Rebel Meets Rebel / Rebel Meets Rebel

Redemption / The Fullness of Time

R.E.M. / Monster

Riddle Of Steel / Got This Feelin'

Amy Rigby / Little Fugitive

Mick Ronson / Heaven And Hull

Klaus Schulze / Mirage

Klaus Schulze / Picture Music

Bob Seger / Smokin' O.P.'s

Sepultura / Roots

Sex Pistols / Filthy Lucre Live

Southside Johnny & the Asbury Jukes / Live At The Paradise Theater

Spock's Beard / Gluttons For Punishment

Bruce Springsteen / Tracks

Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band / Live In New York City

The Strawbs / Concert Classics, Volume 6

The Strokes / Is This It (U.K. import)

Sublime / 40 Oz. To Freedom

Sublime / Sublime

Jim Testa / There Goes The Neighborhood

Too Much Joy / ...Finally

Peter Tosh / Live & Dangerous Boston 1976

The Twangbangers / 26 Days On The Road

Max Vague / maxvague

Various Artists / Hi Times: The Hi Records R&B Years

Various Artists / Rock Against Bush Vol. 2

Bunny Wailer / Crucial! Roots Classics

Wetton-Manzanera / Wetton-Manzanera

Whitesnake / The Definitive Collection

The Who / Thirty Years Of Maximum R & B

The Wildhearts / The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed

Tommy Womack / Positively Na Na

Tommy Womack / Stubborn

The Yardbirds / Ultimate!

Frank Zappa / The Yellow Shark

Special Retrospectives

"A Heep O' Heap" (Uriah Heep)