Blue Oyster Cult - Agents Of Fortune (2001)

There may be heavier bands, louder bands, more obnoxious bands walking the earth these days like so many ill-fated, doomed-to-die dinosaurs, but none of them can hold a candle to Blue Oyster Cult. In their day, with their glorious first four albums, BOC brought intelligence to heavy metal, rooting the music firmly in rock’s past while creating an invaluable blueprint for rock’s future to follow. With the FM radio hits “This Ain’t The Summer Of Love” and “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper,” Blue Oyster Cult broke through to the mainstream with 1976’s Agents Of Fortune LP. Reissued by Legacy with cleaner sound courtesy of digital remastering, as well as bonus tracks and liner notes by Lenny Kaye, Agents Of Fortune is unarguably one of rock’s classic albums.

Everybody knows the hit singles from Agents Of Fortune, but only fans understand the depth of talent that BOC brought to their material. The band had three primary songwriters in guitarist Buck Dharma, bassist Joe Bouchard and keyboardist Allen Lanier. They introduced the world to Lanier’s girlfriend, Patti Smith, who co-wrote the haunting “The Revenge Of Vera Gemini” and “Debbie Denise” with drummer Albert Bouchard. Producers/managers Murray Krugman and Sandy Pearlman functioned as members of the band, adding to the songwriting chores and creating a unique sound that is instantly identifiable on any song as BOC.

The material on Agents Of Fortune runs the gamut from the hard-rock fantasy “Tattoo Vampire” to the radio-friendly musing on the afterlife, “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper.” Alone among '70s-era heavy metal fiends, BOC had an enduring love and intimate knowledge of music and the artistic credibility that allowed them to add flourishes from influences as disparate as soul, jazz and pop music. What other hard rock/heavy metal band could get away with adding the Brecker Brothers’ horns to their songs as they did with the soulful “True Confessions”? The rollicking “Tenderloin” features gentle vocals and a fluid riff from guitarist Dharma and while “Morning Final” has a slight jazz feel behind a sordid story of fear and murder.

This new version of Agents Of Fortune also includes four bonus tracks, among them Dharma’s original 4-track demo for “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper.” A sparse, ethereal alternative take of “Fire Of Unknown Origin” was recorded for the album but not used and an original demo for an Allen Lanier/Jim Carroll lyrical collaboration, the winsome “Dance The Night Away,” later recorded by Carroll. Although Blue Oyster Cult would maintain their popularity well into the '80s, they are always recognized as one of the seminal bands of the '70s. If not for the ground broken by BOC with Agents Of Fortune, much of today’s hard rock heroes could not exist. As such, it’s an album worth revisiting. (Legacy Recordings)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Agents Of Fortune from Amazon.com)

Billy Idol - Devil's Playground (2005)

Twelve years have passed since Billy Idol’s disastrous Cyberpunk album, with which the king of new wave dance rock tried to reinvent himself as a mirror-shaded, futuristic nethead with a blend of techno dance beats and punkish hard rock. Personally, I never thought that Cyberpunk was nearly as bad as the almost universal disdain heaped upon it by critics would have you believe. After all, Idol has some definable talents as a singer and songwriter, combined with a measure of charisma – he’s not Vanilla Ice, for christsakes! At the time of Cyberpunk’s 1993 release, though, Idol also had a monkey on his back the size of King Kong, and simian logic was clearly behind much of the album’s material. Save for a wonderful cameo appearance in Adam Sandler’s The Wedding Singer movie, Idol has mostly been shelved as an ‘80s icon, brought out only for VH-1 specials and oldies radio.

Considering the dismal reception suffered by Cyberpunk, one might think Idol all but through with music. No, the sneering madman still has a few tricks up his sleeve, and with his most pronounced failure a decade behind him (and largely forgotten even by hardcore fans), Idol has come roaring back with Devil’s Playground. Reunited with both guitarist/on-stage foil Steve Stevens and producer Keith Forsey, Idol has delivered a solid collection of songs that rivals his work of 20 years ago. Kicking out the jams with a mix of metallic pop and hard rock aspirations, Idol and crew hit the ground hard with one of the finest, pure rock & roll records that you’ll experience this year.

Devil’s Playgound kicks off with “Super Overdrive,” Stevens’ guitar soaring and screaming like a hungry bird of prey while Idol delivers the album’s mission statement. With chaotic ambience reminiscent of Zodiac Mindwarp, Idol asks, “does he still have the magic?” quickly coming to the conclusion that “yes he does!” The life-is-a-prison tune “World Comin’ Down” opens with a musical quote from “Dancing With Myself” and displays some of Stevens’ most fiery six-string pyrotechnics in a decade. “Sherri” is the best song on Devil’s Playground; a red-hot romantic rocker with soulful vocals and a pop hook the size of a whaling harpoon. In the Reverend’s blueprint for the new world order, “Sherri” would be blasting out of every car radio on the planet at full volume. The song just fuckin’ rocks and on this undeniable fact there can be no argument….

“Plastic Idol” is just a hoot, a folkish farce with spacey guitarwork and great imagery delivered with a straight face by the impish Idol – especially the great verse about using the plastic religious icon as a flask. Priceless! “Yellin’ At The Christmas Tree” is another bit of fun, Idol reminiscing about the hijinx that surround the holidays with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Getting back to serious fare, “Romeo’s Waiting” offers Idol’s breathless vocal gymnastics and great guitarwork beneath a tale of fleeting romance. “Cheri” is, perhaps, the second best song on the disc, bookending “Sherrie” (hmmm…) perfectly, Idol doing his best Neil Diamond impression on this spry, ‘60s-styled rocker. Devil’s Playground closes with the melodic “Summer Running,” gentle, shimmering strings giving way to growling vocals and explosive instrumentation before falling backwards into acoustic balladry. It’s a stylistic departure for Idol, and it works, the cacophony of sound and fury offering a fine counterpoint to the muted passion and forcing Idol to stretch his vocal chords a bit to keep up with the changes.

It’s no stretch of the imagination to say that Devil’s Playground is Idol’s best album since Rebel Yell, some two decades ago. There’s literally not a bad tune to be found in these grooves. Idol’s voice may have mellowed some through the years and his sneer isn’t nearly as menacing as it seemed at the dawn of the Reagan era, but his spirit is unflagging and his dedication to the rock & roll aesthetic endures. Supported by Steve Stevens’ inspired (and vastly underrated) playing and the contributions of a top notch band – bassist Stephen McGrath, drummer Brian Tichy and keyboardist Derek Sherinian – Idol has delivered a magnificent comeback album that stands head and shoulders above much of what passes for rock music these days. Sometimes an old dog does learn some new tricks, and you should give Devil’s Playground a listen before dismissing Billy Idol as yesterday’s news…. (Sanctuary Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Devil's Playground from Amazon.com)

Black Sabbath - Reunion (1998)

Perhaps the greatest of the primal heavy metal bands that walked the earth during the early-70s, Black Sabbath defied critical expectations and went on to become not only one of the most successful acts in rock music during that decade but also one of the most influential. From Guns ‘N’ Roses and Iron Maiden to White Zombie and Marilyn Manson, not a single one of them would have existed if not for Sabbath’s groundbreaking musical efforts. Although signature Sabbath vocalist Ozzy Osbourne would leave the band in 1980 to become a superstar in his own right, the band continued to carry on through the two decades to follow. Making both good records and bad, Sabbath trudged along under guitarist Tony Iommi’s guiding hand to become one of rock music’s most enduring legends.

Sabbath has come full-circle as the original foursome of Ozzy, Iommi, drummer Bill Ward and bassist Geezer Butler got together again last December (1997) for a couple of live performances. The result is captured on the 2-CD Reunion, a long overdue live set from one of rock’s monster live bands. Unlike their contemporaries, Kiss, another recently reunited rock legend created by the fans rather than the critics, Sabbath didn’t attempt to knock people out with a set of new songs. No, they decided to give their fans what they’ve always wanted – red-hot live versions of some of their greatest hits. They’re all here, too, from “Iron Man,” which is still chilling after all these years, to the eerie “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” and the crowd favorite “Paranoid.” Ozzy allows the audience to sing along on a wicked rendering of “War Pigs” while other Sabbath favorites also enjoy stellar performances, including “Fairies Wear Boots” and “Snowblind.”

As a result of the band’s impromptu reunion, Ozzy and Tony Iommi penned two new songs, which are tacked on as studio cuts at the end of Reunion. The first, “Psycho Man,” is a taut thriller with concertina wire-sharp guitars and ominously plodding rhythms while “Selling My Soul” offers a sordid tale of madness and confusion – sort of like a sequel to “Paranoid” – that is driven by Ozzy’s trademark wailing vocals. Perhaps a hint of things to come, these two songs showcase that Black Sabbath has forgotten more about “heavy music” than a lot of aspiring metalheads will ever know. A reunion tour is allegedly in the works, with a new studio album possibly not far behind. Regardless, Reunion captures the greatness that is Black Sabbath in concert, maybe not at their fighting prime, but not missing many punches, either. (Sony Recordings)

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

Circle Of Dust - Circle Of Dust (1995)

Iggy may have coined the term, but it took bands like Throbbing Gristle, Ministry, Skinny Puppy and the like to truly define "Metallic K.O." Good, old-fashioned industrial music – the kind that leaves you on the floor twitching like a fish on a hook, rendered immobile by a molten musical slag of sound and fury – seems to have been supplanted by pretty boys with death wishes, black hair and an obsessive preoccupation with the grim and gory. Not so Circle Of Dust, a New York trio that slaps together an excessive mix of sound and attitude that stands with the best of them.

Circle Of Dust is either their first album, or their second – depending on how you count 'em, but what it is is a cold, sharp kiss of reality delivered with all of the subtlety of a blackjack and the tact of a shotgun blast. This is industrial rock the way it was meant to be, with churning guitars, growling vocals and massive amounts of sheer sonic noise. If, perchance, you survive the knockout punch of Circle Of Dust, then may I suggest the band's first, er, second effort, Brainchild? If you survive this metallic k.o., then bunkie, you're ready to take on Tyson.... (R.E.X. Music)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Circle Of Dust from Amazon.com)

Faith No More - King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime (1995)

I first saw Faith No More around the time of their first disc, when We Care A Lot was on its way to becoming steady college FM radio fare. They played in Nashville at a well-known club on a Thanksgiving night, opening for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The two bands rocked the small club, a mosh pit was in full force, and Brother William and myself, bolstered by several pitchers of cheap beer, tried to pick up a couple of leather-clad female beauties who were stationed smack dab in front of the right speaker column. Turns out that the lovely duo had their eyes on the band, however, and dragged Faith No More to their West Nashville abode for an evening of Nyquil intoxication and who knows what else. I ended up going to work the next morning with a dreadful hangover and significant hearing loss, but also, strangely happy.

Faith No More made a name for themselves by cranking out a funky blend of hardcore and hard rock on stages in small clubs a couple of hundred nights a year. Their albums, no matter how good they might have been, took a back seat to their awesomely intense live performances. With King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime, Faith No More head into a slightly different musical direction. They don't entirely turn their backs on the chunky metallic hooks, roaring six-strings and manic vocals that earned them a solid rep, but rather add an exciting bit of experimentation to the pot alongside their traditional rock frenzy. The Gentle Art Of Making Enemies mixes a hard Peter Gunn-styled guitar undercurrent to what is almost a jazzy, big band arrangement with swinging vocals while Evidence is a low-key ballad with a soulful, slightly funky backing rhythm. Cuts like Cuckoo For Caca, with its random syncopation and wild vocals, or Digging The Grave, chockful of harried guitar riffs and shouted lyrics return the band to their traditional roots. Overall, however, King For A Day, Fool For A Lifetime represents an important musical departure for Faith No More, one that serves them well, showcasing a more mature and more polished outfit. Bet the material would sound great live, too! (Warner Reprise Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy King For A Day from Amazon.com)

Shuggie Otis - Shuggie's Boogie: Shuggie Otis Plays The Blues (1994)

Although there have been a handful of young guitar prodigies since then, the late-60s emergence of fourteen year old six-string wizard Shuggie Otis was unheralded at the time. The son of R & B legend Johnny Otis, Johnny, Jr. – known as Shuggie – was discovered by the great John Hammond and signed to Epic Records. An enthusiastic Al Kooper featured Otis on one of his "super session" records soon afterwards, the young Otis making his recording debut in 1969 with Al Kooper Introduces Shuggie Otis.

Soon to follow was 1970's Cuttin' Up by Johnny Otis, which featured his multi-talented son on a number of cuts, playing a variety of instruments, including guitar, bass and keyboards. Later in the year came Shuggie's full-fledged solo debut, Here Comes Shuggie Otis, on which he performed all of the instrumentation save for bass guitar and wrote or co-wrote all of the disc's ten cuts. The critically-acclaimed album was a breath of fresh air, with the unique Blues-based guitar style evinced by Otis ground-breaking in its scope and surprisingly mature in its execution. Otis would go on to record a total of three solo albums for Epic in the early-70s, as well as continuing to do live work with his father's band.

Shuggie's Boogie draws its dozen cuts from the first two solo albums from Otis and his aforementioned work with Kooper and the elder Otis. It showcases an artist wise beyond his tender years, the work representing a striking stylistic ability and an enormous power of expression. Cuts like Shuggie's Boogie, with its brief opening spoken autobiography, I Can Stand To See You Die, its country-styled slide guitar matched by the wonderful vocals courtesy of Sugarcane Harris or Shuggie's Old Time Slide Boogie, which brings up memories of Tampa Red or, more appropriately, Blind Willie McTell, all stand up well to the test of time. Shuggie's subsequent slide into obscurity makes these early achievements all the more impressive. During his brief career, Shuggie Otis left a large mark on the blues, his youthful enthusiasm and skill captured here on Shuggie's Boogie: Shuggie Otis Plays The Blues. (Sony Legacy)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Shuggie's Boogie from Amazon.com)

Various Artists - Hi Times: The Hi Records R&B Years (1995)

This nifty little 3 CD box set came to me courtesy of old friend Cary Baker, who had great taste in music as a critic, and even better taste as a publicist. If not for him, I might have completely overlooked Hi Times: The Hi Records R & B Years as, unfortunately, a lot of music lovers may do as well. It's a shame, too, because this is a wonderful collection, on par with anything that Atlantic, Rhino or Capricorn have done these past few years.

Hi Records was founded in Memphis, Tennessee in 1957 by a trio of Sun Records session musicians. They found financial backers for the project, and began to kick out a series of jazzy, almost big band instrumental hits and R & B vocal tunes. The label's discovery and signing of the talented Willie Mitchell proved to be a fortunate stroke of fate as well as a wise business decision. As an artist, Mitchell was to pull Hi from the brink of bankruptcy with a string of R & B hits that stretched throughout the '60s; as a songwriter and producer, he became the cornerstone of Hi's entire operation. The first disc of Hi Times: The Hi Records R & B Years showcases a number of Mitchell's hits, including 20-75, The Crawl and Everything Is Going To Be All Right with the Four Kings.

It was during the early-60s that Hi Records was to make its greatest impact on the pop and rock music worlds, scoring hit after hit from a pair of Mitchell-produced artists, Al Green and Ann Peebles. Green would begin his career with a series of solid covers, songs like the Beatles' I Want To Hold Your Hand, The Letter or the Motown classic I Can't Get Next To You. When he began working out his own material, he literally struck gold, and his hits topped the pop charts for the better part of the decade: Let's Stay Together, Tired Of Being Alone, I'm Still In Love With You and others.

Although Peebles didn't experience nearly the success that Green did on the pop charts, she held her own, singing her heart out in a series of soulful, sultry R & B hits like (I Feel Like) Breaking Up Somebody's Home, I'm Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down and the classic I Can't Stand The Rain. Hi Records was about more than just Green and Peebles, however, with artists like Ace Cannon, Otis Clay, Syl Johnson and O.V. Wright contributing to the label's legacy. Each benefited from Willie Mitchell's enormous production skills, spurred on to give their greatest vocal performances by Mitchell's quiet genius. The Hi house band, led by Teenie Hodges, cranked out a steady groove and a trademark sound that matched that of Stax, their cross-town rivals. All the above artists and more are included among the 68 songs collected on Hi Times: The Hi Records R & B Years, with other highlights including Johnson's Take Me To The River, Clay's Trying To Live My Life Without You and Cannon's Drunk.

Hi Records was sold in 1977 and, in the midst of the dreaded disco years, never regained the success and prestige that it had enjoyed for twenty years. When Mitchell left his post two years later, the label lost its greatest asset and with him, any chance of recapturing its past glory. Along with Stax Records, however, Hi Records helped to define what would become known as the "Memphis sound," as influential a force on the future of rock and pop music as there has ever been. Hi Times showcases the reason behind this influence, a valuable collection of vital music, songs that sound as fresh and electric today as they did at the time of their release.

(Click on the CD cover to buy Hi Times: The Hi Records R&B Years from Amazon.com)

B.B.King - Blues On The Bayou (1998)

In a music world abounding with superstars and living legends, B.B. King can honestly stand tall with any of them. The guitarist has long lived in the artistic shadows of long-gone blues innovators like Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon. To tell you the truth, though, King is a trailblazer in his own right, accomplishing something that the aforementioned legends never really did: selling the blues to a mainstream white audience. Although this critic has criticized King in the past for going “Vegas,” careful consideration of his artistic milieu proves otherwise.…

Consider, for example, Blues On The Bayou. Taking his hard-working road band into a remote Louisiana studio, King and crew recorded Blues On The Bayou in a mere four days. A fifteen song collection of old and new tunes written or co-written by King, the album was done live in the studio, offering no overdubs or production wizardry, just plain music. The result is as tasteful treatment of the blues as you’ll find.

At the heart of every song is King’s masterful six-string work. A maestro on the guitar, King’s fluid playing style and the unique tone he coaxes out of “Lucille,” sounds more jazzy than bluesy. Throw in King’s growling, soulful vocals on songs like “Broken Promise” or “I Got Some Outside Help I Don’t Need” and you’ll find the traditional wellspring from which King draws his blues. The backing band, which has literally played hundreds of shows with King, support the songs in an understated manner, respectfully allowing King and his amazing guitar to dominate the proceedings.

As I stated earlier, I once dismissed King for going “Vegas.” From the earliest King sides that I’d ever heard, however, it’s evident that he has always played with a lot of stylistic flair and glamour. His stage presence and six-string prowess is larger than life, and if he’s not, to quote an unfounded criticism, as “authentic” as earlier bluesmen, well, he’s traveled his own path for over 50 years and brought the music of the blues to the largest audience it’s ever enjoyed. King has influenced dozens of younger guitarists, black and white, from folks like Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck to Robert Cray and Johnny Lang. While Blues On The Bayou isn’t a great artistic statement, it showcases King doing what he does best: singing and playing the blues. For that alone, B.B. King deserves a seat alongside the legends. (MCA Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Blues On The Bayou from Amazon.com)

Mountain - Over The Top (1995)

This first time that I ever heard Mountain – the Mountain Climbing! album, I believe – was at an older friend's house. I was twelve or thirteen, he was eighteen, and a bunch of us would gather in his basement to pass the pipe and bottle around and sample tunes from his large record collection. Many of the bands and artists that would come to influence my plunge into rock criticism were first experienced in the DiBello basement – Mountain, Spirit, Steppenwolf, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix....

From the 1970 release of Mountain Climbing!, the band's second album, throughout their slow disintegrated and up to the break-up of the band a half a decade later, Mountain was one of the biggest bands in the land – and, perhaps, the most obscure. They played Woodstock, but were cut out of the movie; they sold millions of copies of their first few albums, but are remembered today for a single song: Mississippi Queen. A generation of kids that today still listen to Hendrix and Ozzie are unfamiliar with the rich body of work created by the genius of Leslie West and Felix Pappalardi, the odd couple behind Mountain's success.

In the late-60s, Felix Pappalardi was known as the producer of Cream, the biggest band in the world at the time. A classically-trained musician, Pappalardi was a deft producer, a multi-instrumental talent and a skilled composer and arranger. West was a fat kid from Long Island, as raw as Pappalardi was polished. No lesser lights than Peter Townsend, Jeff Beck and Mick Jagger considered West to be the best guitarist alive at the time. This unlikely pair came together to become the yin and yang of Mountain, feeding off each other's energy and ideas. The music they created was an incredible blend of guitar-driven hard rock and jazzy improvisation layered upon a blues base. It was as complex as it was exciting, and it won the band a significant following throughout the early part of the '70s.

The recently released Over The Top covers Mountain's entire history, from their self-titled debut through hit albums like Mountain Climbing! and Nantucket Sleighride to the band's swansong, 1974's Avalanche. The familiar songs are all here, cuts like Mississippi Queen, Theme From An Imaginary Western, Flowers Of Evil and Silver Paper, as well as lesser-known material and a smattering of live tracks. The band's ill-fated 1985 reunion album is represented here by a pair of cuts, albeit without the presence of Felix Pappalardi, who had died tragically a few years earlier.

Two new cuts close out the 34 song, two CD set. Recorded last year by West, long-time Mountain drummer Corky Laing and Hendrix bassist Noel Redding, the two songs – Talking To The Angels and Solution – show but a mere fraction of the greatness that was Mountain some twenty years ago. Both feature West's ever-maturing skills; the slimmed-down '90s version of the guitarist is still one of the greatest players the world has seen. They're nothing but soulless, pedestrian hard rock, however, missing the spark and the life that the duo of West and Pappalardi brought to their creations. Over The Top is an excellent collection, nonetheless – buy it for the 30 real Mountain cuts and forget those from '85 and 1994. (Sony Legacy)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Over The Top from Amazon.com)

Lightning Hopkins - The Best Of Lightning Hopkins (2001)

The legendary Lightning Hopkins is a giant among Texas bluesmen, an important link between the early traditional blues of Blind Lemon Jefferson and highly-amped, rock-influenced guitarslingers like Charlie Sexton and Stevie Ray Vaughan. Like many of his Chicago counterparts, Hopkins was often cast by labels in an R&B light, recording material with a full band and an eye on the Black music charts. Where I feel Hopkins is at his best, however, is when he and his guitar are unaccompanied, Lightning kicking out some dirty country blues.

Hopkins was a prolific recording artist, much like John Lee Hooker, spitting out sides for whatever record company was paying any particular week. Blues artists got paid when they recorded or performed live; royalties were seldom paid by the labels on the 78s that they spun out during the '40s and '50s. During a career that spanned seven decades, Lightning recorded for dozens of labels, including Gold Star, Aladdin, Jewel and Modern. Pinning down any “best of” collection on Hopkins is like hunting down a snipe – you're better off not trying in the first place. The best that you can hope for is to isolate several distinctive eras in the artist’s career and dig up recordings that represent his best efforts in that time and place. Once you’ve done that, you can simply buy Arhoolie’s The Best Of Lightning Hopkins.

There are several reasons to choose this set over the dozen or so other “best of” collections that you’ll find on your local dealer’s shelf. Arhoolie founder Chris Strachwitz was a fan of Hopkins, and it was after seeing Lightning perform live in 1959 that Strachwitz decided to form his own record label. Strachwitz recorded Lightning several times during his career, and many of those recordings – especially the Texas Blues album – are considered bonafide blues classics. Many of the best of those tracks, recorded during the '60s, are included on this disc. Finally, Arhoolie got their hands on the 78s that Hopkins recorded for the Houston-based Gold Star label from 1947-1950 and several of those sides, including a couple of unreleased songs, are included on The Best Of Lightning Hopkins.

Ultimately, however, the music is why you should check out this Arhoolie compilation. Hopkins had a distinctive vocal style and a quick-witted ability to reinvent his songs and lyrics as whim and wisdom dictated. His electrifying guitar style is without peer; you can hear echoes of Lightning’s riffing in the work of Stevie Ray, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Doyle Bramhall II and other blues-based rockers. This collection includes a fine cross-section of Lightning’s career, from the magnificent country blues of songs like “Grosebeck Blues” and “Tim Moore’s Farm,” which sound like vintage 78s, to R&B flavored tunes like “Come On Baby.” Along the way, Lightning steps up to the keyboard and invents zydeco (“Zolo Go”) and refines the '60s protest song (“Please Settle In Vietnam”). Hopkins’ friendly vocals and blistering six-string wizardry are the stuff of legend, and the sound quality on The Best Of Lightning Hopkins – many of the songs appear on CD for the first time – benefits from top-notch production and more than a little TLC.

For those unfamiliar with Lightning Hopkins, this “best of” compilation serves as a fine introduction to an important and influential artist. After you’ve whetted your appetite on this Arhoolie collection, might I suggest you pick up a copy of Texas Blues and the two-CD compilation Complete Aladdin Recordings for a better overview of this magnificent blues legend’s career. You’ll be glad that you did.... (Arhoolie Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy The Best Of Lightning Hopkins from Amazon.com)

Mississippi Fred McDowell - The Best Of Mississippi Fred McDowell (2001)

Like most rock fans, I came to know the legendary Mississippi Fred McDowell through the Stones’ version of his “You Gotta Move” and covers of songs by McDowell acolyte Bonnie Raitt. Once you discover the real thing, though, you’ll never go back. Born in rural Tennessee in the early part of the twentieth century, McDowell started playing slide guitar at the tender age of fourteen. His parents died while he was young, and McDowell played for tips in the streets of Memphis while still a teen. He eventually tired of rambling and settled down to a life of farming in Como, Mississippi. It was here that folk music archivist Alan Lomax found McDowell some thirty years later, first recording this enormous talent in 1959.

McDowell’s “discovery” threw the folk and blues community on their collective ears as Lomax had found an authentic Delta bluesman who had never been captured on tape before. McDowell’s ambitions never led him to seek out the traveling “record men” who haunting the Mississippi cotton fields and backwoods, so no recorded legacy from the '20s and '30s existed for modern listeners to familiarize themselves with McDowell’s considerable talents. Arhoolie Records founder Chris Strachwitz was one of those people amazed by McDowell’s music and the young producer promptly sought out the humble McDowell in Mississippi. Arhoolie recorded and released two excellent volumes of McDowell’s homespun country blues during the mid-60s, which subsequently made the artist a popular draw on the festival circuit throughout the decade until his death from cancer in 1972.

Arhoolie’s The Best Of Mississippi Fred McDowell revisits material originally released by the label on four previous titles, and recorded between 1964 and 1969 in a number of different locations. Much like Arhoolie’s recent Lightning Hopkins compilation, this CD is a wonderful overview of the artist’s too-brief career. McDowell’s songs drew upon a Delta tradition that was heavily flavored by the work of contemporaries like Robert Johnson, Tommy Johnson and Charlie Patton. McDowell brought a distinctive flair to his slidework, an impressive individualism that sets his playing apart from that of other Delta bluesmen. His voice was extremely expressive, showing a remarkable range and emotion.

The Best Of Mississippi Fred McDowell offers up a stylistic cross-section of material, from the country blues of standards like “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl” to inspired McDowell originals like “Levee Camp Blues” and “You Gotta Move.” There are gospel tunes here too, McDowell’s performances echoing those of Blind Willie Johnson on traditional songs like “I Wish I Was In Heaven Sittin’ Down” and “Keep Your Lamp Trimmed And Burning.” The album closed with a previously unreleased 1965 live performance from the Berkeley Folk Festival.

Mississippi Fred McDowell was a powerful and charismatic performer, an artist that came into his own late in life but had spent a lifetime working hard and playing music long before his discovery. McDowell’s was a unique talent and vision, The Best Of Mississippi Fred McDowell a wonderful introduction for the uninitiated and a welcome addition to the library for those of us still earning a degree in the blues. (Arhoolie Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy The Best Of Mississippi Fred McDowell from Amazon.com)

Rancid - And Out Come The Wolves (1996)

Classic punk rock – the kind that will stick around beyond next week's Billboard chart – tends to reach down from your ears and slap a viselike grip on your nether regions. It's the perfect mix of power and passion, sweat and blood, balls and attitude. It's not even real important that the band know how to play their instruments well, if at all. It's all of the promises of rock & roll in their purest form, drawn straight from the wellspring. The spirit of punk is an uncompromising style of in-your-face musical amateurism, and when this ghost of rock & rollers past possesses a collection of songs, it's earth-shaking, life-changing stuff. Just ask the kids still listening to Never Mind The Bullocks or moshing to Clash City Rockers, showing Black Flag patches on their leathers, wearing a Minor Threat or Misfits t-shirt. It doesn't happen often, but when a band manages to capture that moment on disc, it's forever....

With ....And Out Come The Wolves, Rancid deliver their masterpiece. The popular Bay Area punkers, part of the same Gilmore Street scene that spawned Green Day and Offspring, have been quietly building a loyal audience with a pair of unrelenting, rootsy punk discs released by Epitaph. ...And Out Come The Wolves is destined to become their breakthrough album, not because of any trends or hype, but in spite of them. It's a damn solid collection of songs, a magnificent showcase for Tim Armstrong's socially conscious lyrics and the band's powerful hybrid of roots rock, hardcore punk and rhythmic ska. It's a high spirited group of songs, wonderfully paced and energetically enthusiastic from the opening riffs to the closing chords.

It's the songs that have connected the band with their growing audience, though, rollicking and freely anarchistic tunes that challenge the listener's conceptions of music unlike any rock since the Sex Pistols and the Clash. This is punk rock reborn, ....And Out Come The Wolves successfully bridging at three generations of punks. Vocalist Tim Armstrong's songs and stories speak to the listener because they can easily relate to the situations and emotions expressed. There's no cynical Seattle-styled teen angst to be found here, or even British punk nihilism, but rather a world-weary pragmatism that remains optimistic towards the future, nonetheless. Armstrong is a literary songwriter, a street corner poet couching his lyrics with a wisdom and intelligence that belie his relatively young age. Supported by a musical soundtrack that burns and roars like a mad dervish, Armstrong's words take on a powerful dimension, indeed.

I've listened to ...And Out Come The Wolves on the average of once a day for over three months now, and have yet to get sick of the disc. That's no faint praise, indeed, from a critic who has listened to thousands of albums over the past twenty years. The timeless quality that has infused ...And Out Come The Wolves ensures that I'll still be listening to it a decade from now. Rancid has created a true classic, an album that stands tall with the work of legends. When other critics argue the merits of the "band of the month" or moan and complain about the dreck being released these days, I just slap on Rancid and crank up the volume. Fuck 'em all – this is stone cold real rock & roll the way that it was meant to be.... (Epitaph Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy ...And Out Come The Wolves from Amazon.com)

Paw - Dragline (1993)

These guys have been tossed in with the legion of post-Nirvana great grunge hopefuls, and that's unfair. For the most part, the overrated Seattle scene is nothing more than media hype feeding upon itself. Paw hail from Lawrence, Kansas, the heartland of America, and their music shows it, being equal parts thrash fury, roots rock and metallic frenzy. Paw have a dimension to their work that goes beyond their so-called "alternative" brethren, comprised of sincerity and passion that belies mindless posing and corporate image mongering. Paw are the real thing, dammit...

Dragline is an impressive debut, not only for what it presents, but also for what it doesn't. These are four guys reveling in the joy of being rockers, born for the spotlight and more concerned about getting on stage and jamming than in how their make-up looks. It translates into the grooves; Dragline shows a literal bitch's brew of musical and lyrical influences, both conscious and sub-conscious...a little Hendrix here, some Killing Joke there, a dash of Iggy for flavor. Their music is loud, raw and muscular, the sheer power of the songs threatening to overwhelm singer Mark Hennesex's abrasively melodic vocals. The lyrics, concerning themselves with the every day fears and dreams of the average person, are riddled with Grant Fitch's screaming guitar riffs, while the rhythm section of drummer Peter Fitch and bassist Charles Bryan are as heavy and monstrous as any I've heard since the aforementioned Killing Joke's early albums.

Successfully straddling that fine line between metal and punk, Paw deliver what others only hint at: hard, no compromise rock offered straight from the heart. (A&M Records)

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

The Ramones - Adios Amigos! (1995)

As the Ramones pass their twentieth anniversary together, the Queens, New York foursome that was long considered a one joke, "here-today, gone-tomorrow" band has managed to outlive most, if not all of their critics. During the past two decades, the Ramones have been no more or no less consistent than any other artists during the same time period, and the fact that they're still alive and kicking in 1995 says something about the band's genuine love of music than many of their more "serious" artistic peers can lay claim to. That the Ramones can still kick out the proverbial jams with an album as hard-rocking and vital as Adios Amigos! after all of this time is a further testimony to the fountain of youth that is rock & roll.

Adios Amigos! draws heavily on material penned by former bandmate Dee Dee Ramone, with six of the album's thirteen songs either written by or co-written by Dee Dee. The manic energy of these songs, with their pop culture obsessions and slightly off-kilter sense of humor is matched perfectly with the band's current musical mix of high-energy, three-chord punk rock and slightly more complex, metal-edged hard rock. The Crusher is, perhaps, the best rock tune ever written about pro wrestling, while Cretin Family and Born To Die In Berlin revisit various periods of the band's history, their '70s roots and their more cynical '80s-era material, respectively. Avid record collector and '60s pop devotee Joey Ramone contributes a wonderfully innocent slice of psychedelic-edged bubble gum in Life's A Gas while Marky offers the wonderfully offbeat Have A Nice Day. A secret bonus cut tacked onto the end of the CD has the band running through an electric cover of the vintage '60s theme to the Spiderman animated Saturday morning cartoon.

Most telling, however, is the inclusion of Tom Wait's I Don't Want To Grow Up as the opening cut on Adios Amigos! Much has been said about a rumoured Ramones break-up, that after twenty years of constant touring and studio work that the band has run its course. From their very first early-70s performances at New York's legendary C.B.G.B.'s, the Ramones have been a staple of youth culture, a major influence on the hardcore scene of the '80s as well as the current pop punk artists of the '90s. As the various members of the Ramones approach middle-age, however, it's got to be harder and harder for them to get energized for another tour or another album. The song's line "how the hell did it get here so soon?" easily becomes much more than a rhetorical question when sung by frontman and founding member Joey Ramone. With it's fierce denial of the inevitable passage of time, I Don't Want To Grow Up, is a song particularly suited to the seemingly ageless icons that are the Ramones. (Radioactive Records/MCA Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Adios Amigos from Amazon.com)

Bad Religion - Stranger Than Fiction (1995)

Twenty years ago, as a teen, I had been a rock & roll fanatic for a number of years already. My interest in '60-era artists like the Stones, Creedence Clearwater Revival and Jimi Hendrix had given way to bands like Alice Cooper, the Mothers Of Invention and Kiss with the changing of the decades. By 1975, however, rock & roll was beginning to become a mega-buck biz, and artistic integrity had suffered.

One night, however, my faith in the music was reclaimed as I crouched on my ears at a heating vent in my parent's house, straining to hear the notes of Born To Run that were coming up from a radio in my sister's room. It was a seminal moment in this young critic's life, a renewal in my belief in the power of rock & roll. Springsteen became a savior for many in my generation, the commercial success of his roots-oriented rock opening the door to great bands like the Clash, the Jam, the Ramones and others of the original late-70s/early-80s punk rock/new wave assault.

It's been a while since those halcyon days and although, in my role as critic and publisher, I hear a lot of fine music, there's a lot more chaff to dredge through than ever before. For every Liz Phair, there's a dreadful Mariah Carey, for every Pavement, there's a Michael Bolton or Vanilla Ice or...well, you get the picture. It's enough to discourage a true believer....

From the rocking opening chords of Incomplete, the first song on Bad Religion's Stranger Than Fiction, I knew that I was experiencing the magic that I've only felt a few times during the past decade or so, that personal renewal of faith in the unbridled power of rock & roll as an expression of thought, to offer complete freedom, to change the world. The words of Incomplete are timeless, expressing teen angst and a questioning of identity that is as valid today as it would have been in my day. "Mother, Father, Look at your little monster/I'm a hero, I'm a zero, I'm the butt of the worst joke in history...." The song serves as an open door to the best collection of songs of the year, one of the best I've ever heard, period.

Bad Religion has been around for a few years, releasing their first album in 1982 on their own indie label, Epitaph Records. Throughout the ensuing period, they've worked their way up to become the most successful indie band ever, racking up sales figures that make the majors envious. They've done it their own way, delivering hard, fast and loose hardcore punk that takes no prisoners, offers no quarter. Album by album, their fortunes have grown, and they've seemingly not made a bad record in the bunch.

Stranger Than Fiction is the band's major label debut, and although there will be those who will say that the band has "sold out," I'll deny that claim. Music that is on an indie label isn't necessarily always good (or even listenable), major label releases aren't automatically dreck. With Stranger Than Fiction, Bad Religion seem to have reached critical mass, the sixteen cuts offered here are as full of vigor and energy as any hardcore punk release has ever been. Graced with not one, but two gifted songwriters in vocalist Greg Graffin and guitarist Brett Gurewitz, Bad Religion, like The Clash before them, has the intellectual depth and the innate talents to deliver the goods.

And how good are Bad Religion? They incorporate decades of rock & roll history in creating a hard rocking sound that is at once both unique and original, familiar and friendly. The power of the three minute song in not lost on this gang, and they use it with a great élan. I hear strains of the Clash, the Jam, the Who, Springsteen, the Ramones and much more in these songs, but they're distinctive, nonetheless, as patently identifiable as Springsteen's lyrical poetry or Peter Townsend's roaring guitar riffs.

It all boils down to the songs, though, and it's here that Bad Religion's songwriting tag team comes into play. Although their lyrical styles are different (a practiced listener could identify a song's writer by its rhythm and wording), both Graffin and Gurewitz construct tunes that are intelligent, thoughtful and meaningful, surrounding them with similar sonics. Cuts like Inner Logic, with its closing chants of "No equality, no opportunity, no tolerance for the progressive alternative" are evidence of the band's social awareness, but an earlier verse – "If I pierce the complexity, I won't find salvation, just the bald and overt truth of the evil and deception" – illustrates their underlying cynicism. The literary references of Stranger Than Fiction, the album's title cut, are cleverly mixed with poetic commentary on our short, fateful existence upon this sphere, closing with the beautifully haunting, wise verse "Life is the crummiest book I ever read, there isn't a hook, just a lot of cheap shots/Pictures to shock, and characters an amateur would never dream up."

This is heady stuff, and head and shoulders above even the most verbose, overly-serious, highly-respected folk poet...and it was delivered by a bunch of scruffy punk rockers in a three minute song that will rock your socks off rather than bore you into a dull fever. In 1982, the Clash were punk rock's great hopes, the remaining survivors of a washed-out trend. They were, as they proudly proclaimed, "the only band that mattered." They've since come and gone, leaving their indelible mark on the music. It is now 1995, however, and with Stranger Than Fiction, I'd say that Bad Religion has picked up that long lost mantle, they've earned the honor of being this era's "only band that matters." Without a doubt in my mind, Stranger Than Fiction is the album of the year, a classic that is certain to withstand the test of time to go on and influence future bands. (Epitaph Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Stranger Than Fiction from Amazon.com)

Rage Against The Machine - Evil Empire (1996)

The left has been politically neutered in this country during the past decade, “liberals” being ridiculed by right-wing pundits and conservative politicians until the L-word has become anathema in society. By allowing the conservative faction of the Republican party – a group increasingly controlled by the far-right fundamentalist Christian segment of the G.O.P. – to control public discussion of the issues, Democrats have been duped into moving towards the right. Progressives and those of us of a more “radical” bent have been closed out of the process entirely.

Music has always been an open forum for radical expression, but it was nonetheless a shock when a little-known Southern California band with the inflammatory name Rage Against The Machine copped multi-platinum status with their self-titled 1992 debut. A powerful collection of tunes that all but called for armed revolt in the streets, it was a surprising and electric jolt to pop culture during an otherwise mundane and nondescript election year. It proved that there was some life left in the corpse after all, and what could have been a wake-up call for the American left proved to be a lone voice shouting – albeit loudly – in the dark.

Almost half a decade has passed since the band's lively debut, and society – especially the left – is still cowering under the thumb of the “Reagan Revolution” (as carried out by his bastard children in Congress). One might expect RATM's passion and fury to have weakened a bit with success, but with the release of Evil Empire, I see that it just ain't so. Zack De La Rocha's vocals are as potent and dangerous as ever, the band's hybrid of metal riffs, industrial energy and rap ethics honed to razor-sharp edge by year's of practice and collective outrage. This is music for the mind as well as the body: the loud, explosive soundtrack punctuated by De La Rocha's furious vocals and by enormous waves of sound and fury. While the music overloads your senses with its sheer muscle, the songs themselves are able to work their not-so-subtle propaganda into your mind.

With a title taken from a term coined by Ronald Reagan to describe the Soviet Union, RATM use their sophomore effort to lyrically describe their vision of a new “Evil Empire,” the good old United States of America. Their rhetoric is infectious, De La Rocha's lyrics serving as an anthemic call-to-arms. The revolution is now, and contrary to Gil Scot-Heron's musings on the subject, it will be televised. Songs like Vietnow showcase a brilliant use of imagery, the song's chilling “fear is your only god” pounded into your brain with a rapper's efficiency and an industrial-strength soundtrack. Revolver offers a final solution to spousal abuse, while Without A Face tackles the controversial issue of immigration, looking beyond the surface to the poverty and injustice suffered by those merely searching for a better life. Bulls On Parade is a magnificent damnation of the military complex and the effect that inflated “defense” spending has on society, delivered with all the swaggering conceit of the baddest gangsta rapper, drilled home by a the song's molten riffs.

Very little of the subject matter spoken of on Evil Empire comes across as new to these tired old anarchist ears. That the repressive times we live in has produced an artistic anomaly as powerful as Rage Against The Machine is a welcome surprise, though. That their music – released by a major label, no less – is reaching the ears of a generation who have been spoon-fed conservative propaganda by a corporate-controlled media is encouraging, indeed. It is telling, perhaps, that the inside CD cover of Evil Empire offers a photo of a collection of books, a “leftist's library” of free thought that includes Ben Bagdikian's The Media Monopoly, the blacklisted Dalton Trumbo's Johnny Got His Gun, Soldedad Brother and titles from Che Guevara, James Joyce, Mumia Abu-Jamal, Malcom X, Carlos Castenada and Jean-Paul Sartre, among other. If just a fraction of Rage Against The Machine's audience delves into the priceless knowledge and philosophy offered by these books, there might just be hope for the left yet.... (Epic Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Evil Empire from Amazon.com)

Sex Pistols - Filthy Lucre Live (1996)

For members of bands like the Clash or the Sex Pistols – arguably the two most important punk bands of the '70s – it hasn't been easy living down the legend that's been built up around them these past 20 years like a bloody albatross around the neck. While the Clash finally melted away into mediocrity with sub-par versions of the band, the Sex Pistols instead self-destructed in the white heat of scandal, hype, death, drugs and violence. Although Johnny Rotten/Lydon built a solid rep as the frontman of Public Image, Ltd., there was always that “unfinished” Sex Pistols business lurking around the corner. For quite a while, throughout the '80s, it seemed as if everybody but the band were making money, as their illustrious former manager, various record labels and numerous t-shirt and sticker companies marketed Sex Pistols products. It must be particularly vexing to be a legend when you're not getting your share of the pie.

Thus this year's dubious Sex Pistols' reunion tour, celebrating their twentieth anniversary, and the resulting live CD. Making no bones about their intentions, the newly reformed Sex Pistols polished up their axes and polished off musical chesnuts like God Save The Queen and Pretty Vacant for a whirlwind “Filthy Lucre” tour of Europe and the United States, a performance trail expressly designed to financially soften their descent into retirement. Although I find it all perfectly hilarious – young punks these days bitch far too often about which bands have “sold out” and what's real punk and what's not – here's the godfathers of the entire damn scene making an unabashed grab for the cash.

I held reservations about Filthy Lucre Live, however, until I slapped this mean little puppy onto the box and cranked up the sound. Somewhere along the line during the past two decades, the Sex Pistols have actually learned how to play, and their old punk standards take on new potency when stripped of their amateurish original performances. Cuts on Filthy Lucre Live like New York, EMI, Holidays In The Sun and Anarchy In The U.K., as well as the aforementioned pair of Pistols' classics, sound every bit as vibrant and exciting in this live setting as they ever have. Johnny Rotten's wailing vocals sound as off-kilter as they always have, his snarling humour at his own expense (and the audience's) merely part of his longstanding public identity. The band sounds like they've been playing together for the past 20 years rather than apart, their timing, energy and power unmatched by bands half (or even a third) their age. Filthy Lucre Live sounds damn good, and although I doubt that the fearless foursome could create new material with the strength of that on which their legend rests, it's good to hear these songs, and the band, once again. Score one for the old timers.... (Virgin Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Filthy Lucre Live from Amazon.com)