Sugar Cane's Got The Blues

Classically-trained violinist Don "Sugar Cane" Harris was one of the most interesting characters in rock music. Harris formed the mid-50s rock duo Don and Dewey with his childhood friend Dewey Terry, playing guitar on a number of period R&B recordings for Art Rupe's Specialty Records. Although none of the band's singles became hits, songs like "Farmer John" and "Justine," written by Harris and Terry, were hits for other artists and subsequently became garage rock standards.

Switching over exclusively to violin, Harris became an in-demand sideman during the '60s, performing alongside R&B, blues and rock heavyweights like Johnny Otis (who gave Harris his "Sugar Cane" nickname), John Mayall, John Lee Hooker, and Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention, appearing on the Hot Rats and Weasels Ripped My Flesh albums.

During the '70s, the talented violin-mangler recorded a number of albums of brilliant jazz-rock fusion, mixing jazzy instrumentalism with soulful R&B, blues and progressive rock. The albums that Harris recorded for the long-defunct BASF label were particularly influential and ground-breaking works, efforts like 1973's Keyzop and 1974's Cup Full Of Dreams sadly long out-of-print. In between solo albums, Harris formed the critically-acclaimed rock band Pure Food and Drug Act with some friends from Mayall's band. PDFA recorded a single album, Choice Cuts, in 1972 with guitarist Harvey Mandel.

Originally released in 1973 by BASF, the scorching, white-hot Harris live set Sugar Cane's Got The Blues was recently reissued by European label Promising Music. All I can say is that it's about time, 'cause this is one roller-coaster ride of an album, leaving blood on the bricks in its wake. The high point of Harris' acclaimed but sometimes erratic career, Sugar Cane's Got The Blues captures a 1971 performance at the Berlin Jazz Festival.

Harris was backed for this performance by a skilled rhythm section that included Soft Machine drummer Robert Wyatt, his high-flying violin complimented by talented Norwegian guitarist Terje Rypdal and a previous Harris collaborator, German axeman Volker Kriegel. The band line-up for the festival was rounded out by keyboardist/electronic wizard Wolfgang Dauner.

This deluxe Promising Music reissue has been provided 24-bit/88.2kHz digital remastering, a gatefold cardboard digipak that approximates the artwork of the 1973 vinyl release, and a booklet with the original liner notes along with new notes from avant-garde musician Eugene Chadbourne. The CD itself is black, looking like a record album, and is slipped into a paper sleeve. Too freakin' cool….

The album derived from the live performance is divided into four lengthy songs, ranging in time from ten-anna-half, to as long as fifteen minutes plus. Sugar Cane's Got The Blues kicks off with the energetic "Liz Pineapple Wonderful," the song cautiously introducing the assembled band's enormous chops before lurching headfirst into the chasm. Above a crashing wave of jazzy instrumentation, Harris spits out a few soulful vocals before launching into a madman's dance with his electric…and electrifying…violin. Notes fly off the strings like sparks from a burning battery as the band improvises a funky and sometimes cacophonic soundtrack behind Harris. The song circles back around to Harris' vocals before fading out with a screech of catgut and semi-psychedelic guitar.

The album's title track kicks off with a virtuoso violin mugging courtesy of Harris, his instrument sounding at once both melancholy and hopeful as the band fills in behind him with scattershot solar flares of drum, cymbals, and oddly disjointed piano. The song's dark vibe devolves into a mere whisper of silence before swelling upwards with crescendos of fluttering violin and shattered piano as brushes hit the cymbals with zeal. The last half of the song drops the atmospheric angst and rocks into an improvised jazz-fusion romp before sliding into a bittersweet…almost pastoral…chording similar to its first notes, ending on a strangled high note with Harris' plaintive vocals moaning "Sugar Cane's got the blues."

"Song For My Father" opens with chiming percussion and Wyatt's fanciful drumplay, the violin kicking in above a Latin-tinged minor-key soundtrack. As Harris scrapes the strings with fierce imagination and focus, the band brings a sense of muted whimsy to the performance. The song is one of the best showcases of Harris' talents, the string-bender burning up the bow with the speed of a Formula One racecar, the song's many twists and turns providing an exhilarating thrillride. The guitarwork here is sublime, the bass lines fluid, and the rhythmic drumwork at once both bombastic and subdued. The song reminds me of an extended Santana jam at times, and of one of Zappa's lengthy '70s-era jazz-based compositions at other times.

Sugar Cane's Got The Blues closes with the twelve-and-a-half-minute-plus "Where's My Sunshine," which places the spotlight on the talents of the entire band. Above a jagged musical undercurrent, Harris introduces the song by saying, "this song is about a girl, called her Sunshine…and every word of it is true!" before pleading "where's my Sunshine?" A lonesome, fractured piano blast comes in beneath Harris' R&B styled vocals, joined by the artist's screaming violin and a throbbing bass line. Nimble-fingered fretwork punctures the soundtrack, leading back around to Harris' rhetorical question, the song walking off in a flurry of stiletto-like violin jabs and a rapid storm of lightning piano and thundering percussion.

Harris would go on to be a contributing member of the experimental rock band Tupelo Chain Sex during the early-80s, recording a couple of albums with them. However, his substance abuse problems allowed him to record only sporadically during the ensuing years, and his personal demons made Harris an unreliable live performer; he later reunited with Terry during the late-90s as a revived Don and Dewey. Sadly, Harris died in 1999 from heart disease at the still-young age of 61. This truly gifted musician left behind a significant, if too often overlooked, body of work, the pinnacle of which was Sugar Cane's Got The Blues. (Promising Music)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Sugar Cane's Got The Blues from Amazon.com)

MP3:
Don "Sugar Cane" Harris - "Liz Pineapple Wonderful"

No End In Sight: The Very Best Of Foreigner

Foreigner was an unlikely marriage of British rock sensibilities and American hard rock roots that, surprisingly, made the band one of the biggest stadium attractions of the 1980s. Formed by ex-Spooky Tooth guitarist Mick Jones, Foreigner originally included former members of King Crimson and Ian Hunter's band, as well as stateside garage rock veterans like vocalist Lou Gramm. The outfit recorded its self-titled debut in 1977, scoring immediately with guitar-driven hits like "Cold As Ice," "Feels Like The First Time," and "Long, Long Way From Home" that pushed the album to #4 on the Billboard charts and launched Foreigner's future prospects into the stratosphere.

While the band's debut would eventually sell five million copies, they followed it up almost immediately with the following year's best-seller Double Vision, a seven-times-Platinum behemoth. A fine showcase for the songwriting skills of Gramm and Jones – the album included the Top Five singles "Hot Blooded" and "Double Vision" – the band's sound was propelled by Gramm's hearty, soulful vocals and Jones' larger-than-life guitar riffs. As Foreigner moved from clubs to larger venues to headlining arenas, they knocked out Platinum discs with ease, releasing Head Games (5xPlatinum) in 1979, topping it with the pinnacle of the band's rock success, the 4 album (6xPlatinum) in 1981.

By the time that 1984's Agent Provocateur was released, tensions had begun to grow within the Foreigner as Gramm and Jones disagreed over the band's move towards a more pop-oriented sound. Following up on a blockbuster effort like 4 is difficult enough for any band and sales suffered slightly for the creatively-uneven Agent Provocateur ("only" 3xPlatinum), in spite of the presence of the chart-topping single "I Want To Know What Love Is." The band's slide continued with 1987's Inside Information album, which still sold in excess of a million copies and spawned a minor hit with "Say You Will." It was clear that the Gramm-Jones relationship had run its course, however, and the vocalist left the band to pursue a solo career.

King Kobra vocalist Johnny Edwards replaced Gramm on the road, and for the recording of 1991's Unusual Heat. Unlike Foreigner's earlier efforts, the album failed to excite all but the most loyal of the band's fans, and it didn't even break the Top 40 as had every other Foreigner album previous. As Gramm's solo career sputtered to an ignominious conclusion, he kissed and made up with Jones, the reunited band delivering the lackluster 1995 album Mr. Moonlight. Terribly miscast during the grunge decade of the '90s, Foreigner's amazing commercial run came to a rapid close.

No End In Sight: The Very Best Of Foreigner is the umpteenth "greatest hits" compilation created to cash in on Foreigner's long-standing success (1982's Records has moved over 7 million copies alone), its release seemingly timed to accompany a 2008 Foreigner tour. To entice fans and casual hangers-on to put down coin for the two-disc No End In Sight, the label has streamlined 2000's Jukebox Heroes comp to include just Foreigner tracks instead of all the other chaff, and put it out with an affordable list price. Among the 32 tracks included on No End In Sight, you'll find all of the recognizable hits – "Feels Like The First Time," "Cold As Ice," "Double Vision," "Head Games," "Juke Box Hero," "Urgent" and, of course, "I Want To Know What Love Is," among others.

Pulling its material from all eight of Foreigner's studio albums, as well as the 2006 live afterthought Extended Versions, the No End In Sight collection also includes a number of lesser-known, but worthy Foreigner tracks: the swaggering stomp-n-smash "Headknocker," the Asian-tinted pomp-rock grandeur of "Starrider," or the strident rocker "Blue Morning, Blue Day." Even a number of late-period Foreigner tracks are deserving of another listen. Aside from the effervescent "Say You Will" and the synth-fueled "That Was Yesterday," songs like the crunchy, riff-o-riffic "Tooth And Nail" or the '70s-era throwback rock vibe of "Hearts Turn To Stone" are evidence of the band's acute eye for hard-edged pop-rock fusion.

No End In Sight also includes a trickle of previously unreleased stuff, including the newly-recorded "Too Late." Although new Foreigner frontman Kelly Hansen's pipes approximate Lou Gramm's quintessential howl, he's lacking in the soulful bluster inherent in Gramm's best performances. Hansen's take on the unreleased "Say You Will," taken from a live XM Satellite Radio broadcast, is accorded a slightly different arrangement that takes better care of his throaty vocals. A live reading of "Starrider" – replete with enough synthesizer washes to fill a Rick Wakeman album – completely lacks the magic of the original version, which competes on disc one, but the live medley of "Juke Box Hero" and Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love," also taken from 2006's Extended Versions, rocks the house to the rafters.

Truthfully, eight albums in eighteen years isn't an overwhelming output for a band of the "classic rock" era. Part of Foreigner's legacy, and the band's long-standing appeal, is the stripped-down, efficient, carefully-constructed hard rock that populates much of the band's milieu. A musical machine that cranked out hit singles, Foreigner's album tracks – especially those from the first four records – were equally powerful expressions of blues-influenced hard rock.

As the band is introduced to new, young fans through video games like Guitar Hero III, Rock Band and Grand Theft Auto, a new generation is discovering what many of us knew 30 years ago – Foreigner rocks! Get No End In Sight: The Very Best Of Foreigner for the hits, stick around for the songs that could have been contenders…. (Rhino Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy No End In Sight from Amazon.com)

MP3s:
Foreigner - "Cold As Ice"
Foreigner - "Double Vision"
Foreigner - "Blue Morning, Blue Day"

Rediscovering Piper (featuring Billy Squier)

For classic rock fans, Piper is mostly remembered as '80s rock icon Billy Squier's first band of note. Squier had kicked around Boston and New York City for a while during the early-to-mid-70s with bands like the Sidewinders and Kicks (which also included future New York Doll Jerry Nolan), finally landing back in Boston and forming the power-pop cult band Piper.

Hooking up with superstar manager Bill Aucoin, who took Kiss to unprecedented commercial heights, Piper signed a record deal with A&M Records that resulted in two albums – 1976's self-titled debut and the following year's Can't Wait. Neither album achieved much in the way of sales, in spite of Aucoin's juice in the industry and a high-profile '77 tour opening for Kiss. Both Piper albums would eventually earn nearly-universal acclaim as gems of pop/rock perfection.

With the recent reissue of Piper and Can't Wait on a single CD, perhaps it's time to take another look at these long-overlooked albums. Pursuing a sound that is now known as classic, guitar-driven power-pop, Piper falls on the power side of the equation, the band often deploying a three-guitar attack for a fatter, thicker stringed sound, along with drummer Richie Fontana's blastbeat percussion and frequent crashing cymbal bashing.

Fans of Billy Squier's solo work tuning in to Piper and expecting to hear the man's typically over-the-top vocals may be disappointed. Squier's singing with Piper is more soulful, more nuanced with careful phrasing and a slight Bostonian accent. Personally, I prefer Squier's approach here to the often shouted Robert Plant/Freddie Mercury approximations of his solo work.

The engaging "Out Of Control" opens the band's self-titled major label debut. With fiery guitarwork, a steady backbeat, strong vocal harmonies and clever lyrics, the song reminds of early Rolling Stones, kind of a mix between an early-60s R&B rocker and a garage-styled rave-up. The song fades a little near the end, switches gears, and returns for an extended finish. "Whatcha Gonna Do" displays the band's six-string prowess with razor-sharp guitar amidst a rapidly-changing musical landscape, the song jumping the fence from a balls-out heavy '70s period rock sound to a powerful progressive-styled ballad.

With jangly fretwork and a strong pop framework, "Who's Your Boyfriend? (Got A Feelin')" is a ready-made radio hit with gorgeous harmonies, slightly echoey multi-tracked instrumentation, a passionate vocal turn and overall winsome vibe. "Telephone Relation" offers some nicely-drafted vocal interplay, a staggered beat, and lyrics that are smarter than you or I. Fontana's rapidfire drumbeats drive the song's slightly Buddy Holly-esque soundtrack, while Squier turns in one of his most effective vocal performances.

A cover of the Stones' underrated classic "The Last Time" subtracts the original's casual drawl and adds a wiry guitar line, up-tempo rhythms, and a delightfully chaotic performance all around. Squier's ode to the girls of Times Square, "42nd Street," is a muscular rocker that foreshadows the singer's later solo work with soaring vocals, crash-and-burn fretwork and damaging rhythms that would be institutionalized a short decade later in the derivative Hollywood sleaze-rock of the '80s.

Can't Wait would be Piper's second bite of the apple; released in 1977, the album showcases a tighter, stronger band chemistry. The opening title track illustrates the band's evolution with an imaginative song structure, strong vocals, and complex instrumentation. On "Drop By And Stay," Squier's vocals are dropped in the mix to roughly the same level as the song's constantly chiming guitar and solid rhythms, creating a mesmerizing uniformity that is casually punctured by slashes of guitar and grenade drumbeats. The song reminds me a lot of the stuff that the Fabulous Poodles were doing at roughly the same time, with catchy lyrics, a subtle melody, textured vocals and an overall infectious sound.

Richie Fontana's underrated percussion opens "See Me Through" with a concrete-solid rhythmic foundation on top of which Squier weaves his carefully crafted vocals. Guitars dance throughout the mix, never overwhelming the arrangement, but rather complimenting the song's balanced chemistry. "Little Miss Intent" is a blocky period rocker with semi-metallic aspirations. Drawing on the groundwork laid by East Coast hard rock bands like Dust and Sir Lord Baltimore, the song not only offers another glimpse towards Squier's eventual solo success, but also a possible future musical direction for Piper had the band stayed together.

"Bad Boy" offers the perfect showcase for the band's guitarists, Squier playing off Alan Nolan and Tommy Gunn's inspired fretwork with a mix of Pete Townshend-styled windmills, Brian May-flavored rhythmic flourishes, and piercing lead notes scattered throughout the three-and-three-quarter-minutes of the song's breathless existence. "Comin' Down Off Your Love" is another big-balls rocker with a relentless rhythm, triple-vocals, screaming six-string play and plenty of lyrical attitude.

Can't Wait ends with "Blues For The Common Man," a 90mph rave-up that is anything but bluesy, instead displaying an unyielding backbeat and Squier's growing vocal mania. In many ways, the song highlights the musical dichotomy between Piper's two albums. The band's 1976 debut draws more from a power-pop tradition shared by contemporaries like Cleveland's Raspberries or Detroit's Romantics, drawn in a straight line from like-minded fellow travelers like the Hollies and Big Star.

By the time of the 1976 release of Can't Wait, Piper had developed a harder edge to their sound. Emboldened, perhaps, by the success of glam-era rockers like Sweet and T Rex, Piper began incorporating sharper guitar solos, punchier choruses, and altogether heavier rhythms and drumming. You can hear scraps of bands like Boston and Queen in the mix, with dashes of Ted Nugent's mid-70s melodic hard rock. Although separated by inches, stylistically, neither musical approach won the band much more than lip service from the music press like Circus or Creem. Instead, these two excellent albums patiently await rediscovery by an audience that wants to hear and experience real pop-rock gems. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Piper/Can't Wait from Amazon.com)

MP3s:
Piper - "Out of Control"
Piper - "Telephone Relation"
Piper - "Can't Wait"
Piper - "Bad Boy"

Billy Squier's Emotions in Motion

One of the undeniable rock icons of the '80s, Billy Squier's contributions as a singer, songwriter and performer are too often overshadowed by the music media's perceived image of the artist and not the hard rockin' reality. Photogenic in a way that easily lent to video overplay of his signature hits on the fledgling MTV network, Squier seemingly came out of nowhere, sparking brightly during his brief ascent towards the sun, and fading away just as quickly into obscurity.

Here then, is the truth: Billy Squier was no damn "overnight sensation," but rather a seasoned rock & roll veteran that earned his modicum of success, regardless of one's feelings about his music (which seem to run along the lines of a love/hate relationship depending on who you speak with). Squier bought his first guitar at the age of twelve, formed his first band at 16, and played his first gig shortly after his high school graduation at age 18 in 1968.

Throughout the decade of the '70s, Squier kicked around both his hometown of Boston and downstream in New York, performing with bands like Magic Terry & the Universe (with future Dead Kennedys bassist Klaus Floride), the Sidewinders, and Kicks (with soon-to-be New York Dolls drummer Jerry Nolan). Squier attended Berklee School of Music for a while, played with Bruce Kulick (of later Kiss fames) and finally formed the band Piper, signing a major label deal with A&M Records that resulted in a pair of power-pop oriented albums that many aficionados consider to be classics of the genre.

When Piper broke up in 1977, Squier went his own way, taking his next step towards solo stardom. Signing with Capitol Records, Squier scored a minor AOR hit with the song "You Should Be High Love" from 1980's Tale Of The Tape, hitting a pair of fence-clearing homeruns the following year with the hard rock stomp of "The Stroke" and the edgy "My Kinda Lover" from Don't Say No. Squier's third time at bat, 1982's Emotions in Motion, continued the artist's streak, delivering extra-base hits like "Everybody Wants You," "Learn How To Live," and the title track. The album subsequently went triple-platinum and established Squier as a top-tier arena rock star.

Listening to Emotions in Motion today with the benefit of hindsight, Squier's brand of melodic hard rock with power-pop roots stands up reasonably well in the light of contemporary tastes. There are still a few too many keyboards thrown in here without concern for the song structure – a not entirely alien phenomenon considering the era. Because of new wave's persistent influence, record labels often wanted even big rock records drenched in period-specific production follies and random washes of needless keyboard drone. It's evident that much of the major label rock conceived and recorded circa 1980-85 could be remixed without a keyboard presence at all and would suffer little by the act.

The album kicks off with the readily-familiar "Everybody Wants You," the song's opening motorcycle tailpipe roar setting the stage for a strutting, cock-rocking exercise in BIG sound. Everything about "Everybody Wants You" is BIG, from Squier's breathless shouted vocals, to the explosive driving rhythms, to the manic, swaggering guitarwork. The perfect antidote to the turn-of-the-decade doldrums, "Everybody Wants You" shocked rock audiences out of their new wave-fueled complacency. This wasn’t power-pop, it wasn't even Iggy's raw power…this was barely contained, reckless, crackling electricity.

The title track follows a similar tact, with a few more distinct low, slower-paced passages beneath Squier's OTT vocals and a slightly funky beat. Squier's slashing guitarwork, complimented by Jeff Golub's rhythms, is especially interesting here, both supporting the underlying musical soundtrack and working at cross-purpose to the song's groove. It makes for an interesting tension, one assisted in part by Squier's hard-then-soft vocal exchanges. The gentle acoustic opening of "Learn How To Live" quickly gives way to a lesson-in-life lyrical message and a wall-of-sound clashing of guitars, bass and drums that threaten to overwhelm Squier's powerful, sometimes multi-tracked vocals.

"Keep Me Satisfied" is a jive little thumper with a vaguely rockabilly feel, albeit delivered with a semi-metallic arrangement similar to Queen (friends of Squier's at the time). Squier's vocals slip-n-slide across the rollicking instrumentation like a duck across ice, but the scorching guitar solo at the middle of the song should satisfy any hard rock fan. The stadium-strut of "It Keeps You Rockin'" is the sort of designed-for-the-distance live performance favorite that is required by some obscure law to include some random variation of "rock" or "rockin'" in its title. The song lives up to its premise, with big-lunged vocals, a fallback chorus, loud drums and wall-to-wall riffing…probably slayed 'em in Midwestern coliseums.

"She's A Runner" is as close to nerf-metal power-ballad territory as these lunkheads come on Emotions in Motion, the song's romantic wistfulness paired with one of Squier's most affecting and subdued vocal performances, the proper casual use of keyboards and piano for effect, and a stellar six-string solo that evokes the emotions of the lyrics. Squier and the boys hit a rare R&B vibe with greasy rocker "Catch 22," the song's thick groove cemented by sticky riffs and the occasional horn blast. The slightly spacey fretwork of "Listen to the Heartbeat" would provide an electric undercurrent to the song's thoughtful lyrics and thick, crushing instrumentation. Bookending the album's ten songs with a strong performance by everybody involved, "Listen to the Heartbeat" was a lively closer to Emotions in Motion.

Although Squier's follow-up to the multi-Platinum Emotions in Motion, 1984's Signs Of Life, would also sell at million-unit levels, the singer's signature guitar-heavy sound was bogged down by overly-ambitious period production by Jim Steinman, the material awash with synthesizers and keyboards, and Squier's evolution towards a funkier, more R&B-oriented sound. By the end of the decade, Squier's commercial fortunes had plummeted, and his late-80s albums were ignored by young audiences enamored of newly-minted hard rockers like Motley Crue, Poison and Guns 'N' Roses.

Squier's last album was 1998's Happy Blue, after which the singer largely disappeared off the pop culture map. The last we heard of Billy, he was touring as part of Ringo Starr's All Star Band in 2006 along with Richard Marx, Edgar Winter, and other relics of an earlier musical age. As evidenced by the trailblazing melodic hard rock found on Emotions in Motion, however, at one point Billy Squier had his finger on the pulse of the American rock fan, and would become king of the stadium rock world, if only for a short time. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Emotions in Motion from Amazon.com)

MP3s:
Billy Squier - "Emotions in Motion"
Billy Squier - "It Keeps You Rockin'"
Billy Squier - "She's A Runner"

Evan Dando & The Lemonheads

By the time of the release of the band's It's a Shame about Ray in 1992, Evan Dando's Lemonheads were an established … and experienced … major label band. After toiling for several years in the indie rock wilderness as a hardcore punk-oriented trio, recording a handful of albums for Seattle's Taang! Records, personal and creative tensions between the members broke the band apart, with Dando retaining the Lemonheads name and signing with Atlantic Records for the release of 1990's Lovey.

With It's a Shame about Ray, the Lemonheads had effectively become the Evan Dando show, and the singer/songwriter's vision fueled the band's sound. The album's mix of punk attitude, folksy arrangements and pop vibe benefited from Dando's casual delivery and slacker ethos, as well as from the input of Julianna Hatfield, whose own solo career would be launched by the album's modest success. With the early-90s ascent of "alternative rock," the Lemonheads seemed to stand on the brink of massive mainstream commercial success.

Instead, the attention and acclaim afforded the Lemonheads, along with Dando's new status as a teen "sex symbol," only seemed to fuel his insecurities, and the artist turned towards increasingly dangerous levels of drug abuse. The band's 1993 album, Come on Feel the Lemonheads, although a moderate sales success, was a confused, scattershot affair, and did little to improve upon the loyal Lemonheads fan base. The band wouldn't file another album for three years, the messy Car Button Cloth derailing any career momentum the band might have enjoyed, sending Dando into the dark night of pop culture obscurity.

The release of the two-disc "collector's edition" of It's a Shame about Ray provides an excuse to revisit the cornerstone of Lemonheads' alt-rock reputation. Listening with fresh ears better than a decade-and-a-half after the fact, It's a Shame about Ray is a pretty damn good collection of folk-leaning, alt-rock lovelies, the chemistry of Dando, bassist Hatfield and drummer David Ryan creating a finely-crafted balance between the trio's energetic punkish tendencies and songwriter Dando's increasingly retrospective wordplay.

Kicking off with "Rockin' Stroll," the song features a nifty descending guitar riff, some tasty acoustic strumming, a driving drumbeaten rhythm and a fine bit of vocal gymnastics. "Confetti" has a vaguely British feel to it, like early Kinks or the Who, filtered through the Jam, with inventive guitar work, multi-tracked vocals and drummer David Ryan's blustery kitwork. The title track displays Dando's skills as a lyricist, the song an introspective, acoustic-based, mildly-rocking heart-on-sleeve moment with an appropriately sad-faced vocal performance. Dando's ode to mind-alteration, "My Drug Buddy," reveals glimpses of stately Americana (think The Band) between its delightful vocal harmonies and gentle, pastoral soundtrack.

The exceedingly charming "Bit Part" is equal parts minimalist, low-fi slacker ethos and grand wall-of-sound rocker, with a swaying beat and up-front guitar-strum. Based on a friend of the band, "Alison's Starting to Happen" is disarming cookie-cutter rock vamp not dissimilar to some of what the Replacements or Soul Asylum or the Goo Goo Dolls were doing at the time, with enough heart and soul to pull it off joyously. "Kitchen" is a hand-clapping melodic rocker with an uncomplicated soundtrack and bits-and-pieces of instrumental exotica (including bongos, sirens, and random bursts of six-string energy).

The band's pop-punk cover of the Simon & Garfunkel hit "Mrs. Robinson" is included here, as it was on subsequent re-pressings of the original album. Many fans look at the inclusion of this literal "13th song" as upsetting the delicate balance of the album's original intent, but I'd disagree. The Lemonheads recorded the song to accompany the reissue of the classic film The Graduate, and although this remake may smell of corporate manipulation, the band does a spirited reading nonetheless, with hearty drumwork, punctuations of stabbing guitar, and an affecting Dando vocal turn.

There are a number of bonus tracks provided this "collector's edition" of It's a Shame about Ray, most of them previously unreleased demo versions of songs from the album that would be attractive mostly to hardcore fans. The obscure voice-and-guitar track "Shaky Ground" was originally released on an EP and deserves a wider audience, the song's sparse instrumentation and trembling vocals creating an emotional work that stands out from the crowd.

Of the demo tracks included here, several work quite well as stripped-down performances – the title track, for instance, gains more emotional impact from the strong guitarwork and sculptured vocals. "Rockin' Stroll" sounds like a lower-fi Violent Femmes doppelganger, whereas "Ceiling Fan in My Spoon" is so muddy and muddled that it sounds less like a major label demo and more like a bedroom recording by a talented, aspiring rocker. Although slightly hollow-sounding, the British Invasion vibe of "Confetti" and the song's lovely lyrics are only amplified and focused by the understated recording.

One of the keys to the modest success of both Dando's compositions, and It's a Shame about Ray altogether is the concise brevity of the songs: only two of the original twelve poke their heads above the three-minute-mark, and five songs clock in at less than two minutes. In this case, the minimalist framework concentrates the listener's focus on Dando's accessible lyrics, on the instrumentation, and on the vocals, allowing Dando's natural charisma to shine through the grooves.

Nowhere is this more apparent than on the set's accompanying DVD. Titled "Two Weeks In Australia," this rock-n-roll travelogue presents an untarnished, up close and personal view of the band through off-the-cuff interviews, tour video footage, in-store performances and music videos. The universal appeal and onstage electricity of the band is readily apparent when watching Dando perform acoustically in front of an audience of young females in a record store…the looks on the girl's faces capture the essence of Evan Dando and the Lemonheads like a fly in amber.

Dando would resurface in the new millennium with a solo acoustic tour and accompanying live album, returning with a full-fledged 2003 solo album, Baby I'm Bored. Evidently feeling invigorated by all the creative energies he was experiencing, Dando formed a new version of Lemonheads with All/Descendents members Karl Alvarez and Bill Stevenson, recording a critically-acclaimed self-titled album in 2006 with a guest appearance by The Band's Garth Hudson. Harkening back to the original pop/punk/folk-rock sound of It's a Shame about Ray, it proved to be too little, too late … although with a talent the caliber of Evan Dando's, you can never really count him, or the Lemonheads, out of the game. (Rhino Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy It's a Shame about Ray from Amazon.com)