Robert Plant & Strange Sensation - Mighty Rearranger (2005)

Simply put, Mighty Rearranger offers Robert Plant’s best work since, perhaps, Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti. Invigorated by his skilled backing band, the Strange Sensation, Plant takes musical risks and climbs out on a limb more than once with the finest batch of songs he’s delivered during a lengthy solo career that has lasted nearly a quarter-century. Picking up where he left off with 2002’s acclaimed Dreamland LP, this is the Robert Plant of yore – dropping the hammer of the gods and belting out songs with a cocksure confidence that many lesser vocalists have tried to capture and failed, often times miserably.

Working in tandem with his excellent band, especially guitarists Justin Adams and Skin Tyson, with no little assistance from keyboardist John Baggot, Plant has crafted a solid collection of material. The songs on Mighty Rearranger revel in their hard rock roots, but also incorporate Plant’s fascination with Eastern modality and polyrhythms, elements of complex, Zep-styled British folk and the singer’s love for classic American blues and soul music. If it sounds like a heady mix, well, it is, Plant and the Strange Sensation masterfully weaving in and out of genres, challenging one another and coming up with truly breathtaking performances.

Suffice it to say that the second coming of Robert Plant is no dull affair. Mighty Rearranger is filled with memorable moments that blister and peel. The Middle Eastern rhythms of “Another Tribe” are paired with weeping lead guitar and Plant’s mournful vocals offer precise social commentary, asking hard questions. The singer attempts a bit of vocal gymnastics on “Freedom Fries,” the syncopated rhythm track approximately a sort of rockabilly shuffle but matched swerve-for-swerve by Plant’s assured phrasings. “Tin Pan Valley” takes a look at days gone by, Plant’s subdued vocals supported by a sparse soundscape as he takes a few lyrical jabs at contemporaries trying to hold onto past glories. By the time the guitars roar into the mix and Plant’s voice soars to Wagnerian heights, it’s clear that the rock legend is moving forward, not back. “Dancing In Heaven” offers the sort of crystalline acoustic guitarwork that Zeppelin fans cut their eye teeth on, Plant’s brilliant lyrical imagery matched by the band’s instrumental virtuosity. The title cut is a bluesy, gospel-tinged rocker with raw fretwork and otherworldly keyboards.

Mighty Rearranger is not a reinvention of Robert Plant as such, but rather a showcase for the artist’s creative evolution. Without ignoring his past triumphs, Plant has built a bridge to the future, finding a revival in fortunes by working with the second great band of his career. With Mighty Rearranger, Plant and the Strange Sensation have discovered the legendary fountain of youth, and its name is rock & roll….

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

Sonic's Rendezvous Band - "Sweet Nothing" (1999)

When I lived in the Detroit area back in the late seventies I used to hang out at a place not far from the house called Dearborn Music. A third generation record store that had been passed down in a straight line from grandfather to grandson, the store had never sent back any records that it ever bought during its thirty-year history. This practice would make today's retailers, with their sorry philosophy of limited selection and “just-in-time” inventory, wince and cry. But the result was a wonderfully dusty, crowded store that offered everything from still-sealed Big Band albums to sixties psychedelica to punk rock imports.

Knowing my penchant for loud, high-octane Detroit rock & roll, the grandson called me over one day and laid a 7" 45 rpm copy of “City Slang” on me. It was the first release from Sonic's Rendezvous Band, a local “supergroup” made up of members from the MC5, the Stooges and SRC and named after guitarist extraordinaire Fred “Sonic” Smith. It was a wicked little slab o' vinyl that was destined to make a big impression on my young rock & roll mind....

Little did I know at the time that this single would also be the last official release from the band. Although a couple of live bootleg tapes have circulated among the faithful during the past couple of decades, those of us thirsting for more had to be satisfied with our rare copies of “City Slang.” Imagine my surprise then when I opened up a copy of Mohair Sweets zine and saw an article on Sonic's Rendezvous Band and a listing of a web site. Although Smith died a few years back, his wife – the talented Patti Smith – asked longtime associate Freddie Brooks to look through the band's collection of tapes with an eye towards releasing some of the material. The first result of this jump into the vaults is the “Sweet Nothing” CD, which captures the band alive and scorching during a 1978 performance. Needless to say, I sent in my hard-earned coin as soon as possible and grabbed a copy of this gem before it disappeared on me.

Even though it had been twenty years since I saw the band play live one night in Ann Arbor, “Sweet Nothing” immediately brought up fond memories of that night. A solid hour-long set of raging “Motor City” rock & roll, “Sweet Nothing” does not disappoint, even given my high expectations. Sonic's Rendezvous Band were a monster of a live band, with Smith and fellow guitarist Scott Morgan dueling like swordfighters in a death match, trading deadly, razor-sharp riffs with abandon. Ex-Stooges' drummer Scott “Rock Action” Asheton kept up a steady, often-times manic beat while bass maestro Gary Rasmussen laid down a rhythmic groove that propelled the music along like nitro in your gas tank.

With a sound that's loud, meaty and muscular, booming out of your speakers like a metal stamping machine in a Detroit auto plant, the songs on “Sweet Nothing” are almost immaterial, given the heaviness of the performances. These are good, not great songs, mostly originals by Smith or Morgan. Some are standard, guitar-driven love songs, like the mesmerizing “Hearts,” the engaging title track or the band's drunkenly passionate cover of the Stones' “Heart Of Stone.” Other songs – like “Asteroid B-612,” for instance – are more esoteric, blazing a musical trail across territory that's more akin to Sun Ra than to anything rock & roll was spitting out in the late seventies.

That legendary single, “City Slang,” is presented here as an eight-minute, album-closing rave-up that's guaranteed to stand you on your head, leaving you with the certain knowledge that Sonic's Rendezvous Band were a great band. It's a damn shame that they never became huge stars, but then again, their cult status befits them. After all, like Neil Young once said, “it's better to burn out than to fade away.” For a too-few brief years, Sonic Rendezvous were the underground rock scene's brightest burning stars, blazing their way through hundreds of live shows. Lucky for us that somebody captured one of these special nights on “Sweet Nothing”. (Mack Aborn Rhythmic Arts)

Blackfire Revelation - Gold And Guns On 51 (2005)

The Reverend hasn’t heard a righteous din like the grooves you’ll find on Gold And Guns On 51 since Blue Cheer earned its first hearing aids playing biker bars back in ’68 or so. Gawd damn, them BC boys could shake, rattle and roll – with obscene stacks o’ Marshall cabinets channeling turbocharged amps set on “stun,” the band fused mutant blooze and caveman rock into a poisonous brew unlike any band before or since…until now.

The Blackfire Revelation pick up the long-forgotten gauntlet thrown down by Leigh Stephens with Vincebus Eruptum and run down an amphetamine-fueled highway towards oblivion. Whereas Blue Cheer needed four monster musicians to scare the heebie-jeebies out of its audience, the Blackfire Revelation manages to do it with just two – slash-n-burn guitarist J.R. Fields and demolition expert Hank Haney on the drum kit. Together, the duo from New Orleans kick out the jams with Gold And Guns On 51, a five-song debut EP that musically approximates a nuclear meltdown.

The line is drawn in the sand with the very first song, the machine-gun drumbeats and towering riffs of “Battle Hymn” possibly heavier, more destructive and more testosterone-drenched than any stoner/thrash/death-metal band you could possibly name. Fields’ electronically-altered vocals bounce off the song’s massive power chords like a hawk swooping down on a field mouse while Haney’s drums hit yer ears like a surprise kidney punch from a drunken preacher. The rest of Gold And Guns On 51 is of similar sound and vintage, late-60s/early-70s styled primordial heavy metal with interwoven threads of blooze-rock and boozy psychedelica.

Audiences haven’t heard tunes like this since the first Neanderthals crawled out of the wreckage of the gene pool, shook off the blood and tar and strapped on Stratocasters to form bands like Blue Cheer, Dust, Sir Lord Baltimore and the sludge-kings themselves, Vanilla Fudge. At a mere twenty-two minutes, Gold And Guns On 51 burns with more energy and intensity than modern audiences are ready to handle. Tough shit, get used to it, ‘cause this is the future, kiddies! With muscle, balls and sweat, the Blackfire Revelation has created a mini-album that is both timeless and out-of-time. (Southern Reconstruction Records)

(Click on CD cover to buy Gold And Guns On 51 from Amazon.com)