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)

Tommy Shaw's AOR Classic

TMQ guest review by Tommy "Hashman" Hash

Only a few years after departing from Styx, no one really knew what to expect from the band’s singer, songwriter and lead guitarist when Tommy Shaw unleashed his debut solo album; but the end result is one of the most underrated AOR records of its time. Originally released in 1984 by A&M Records, Girls With Guns was a departure from the technical prowess that Shaw’s former band had presented over the years. Shaw’s debut platter presented a more ‘pop oriented’ approach; in all due respect, however, his vocals and his guitar playing were in full force, marking a stance for a more personal sound looming on the horizon, if anything.

Girls With Guns opens up with the ultra-catchy title track, where the main riffs are driven not by Shaw’s six strings, but by a synthesizer; we have to remember, this was the ‘80s, and it was that time-period of production excess. Nevertheless, Shaw’s guitar still drives its way through the song with its hook-laden chorus and yet, who can complain – it was a Top 40 hit and an MTV fave, so….

The record is also filled with several harder-edged rockers such as the anthemic “Come In And Explain;” the dark pop of “Heads Up” and “Free To Love You;” and the heavily-textured “Fading Away” to set the tone for all things AOR to come. And what would an AOR record be without ballads? “Lonely School,” which was a minor hit, showed a more emotional side to the singer while “Kiss Me Hello” is an eased-back and yet haunting track, adding a counterpoint to the more straightforward, popish elements that are present.

Girls With Guns has an overall dark vibe to it and, with the exception of the title track, it certainly has Shaw’s touch. Even though it has many traces of the commercial confines of its time, it still shines as a great record that stands out with its fluid melodies and tuneful attitude. This record is a testament on how Shaw was able to flex his muscles as a songwriter (having written, or at least co-written every track on the record) and as a guitarist with some great solos here and there – but it’s his songwriting that really is allowed to shine here.

After a couple more solo albums (What If and Ambition), Shaw would later go on to form another hard rock-oriented AOR group, Damn Yankees, scoring moderate success before later re-joining Styx. However, it’s his solo career, this and his two other albums, that are regarded as some of the strongest AOR/melodic rock releases to have ever hit the racks, truly some of the most underrated material that has been bestowed upon the hard rock world. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Girls With Guns from Amazon.com)

Thinking Green Thoughts With The Smithereens

It’s not so much that the Smithereens reinvented the wheel back in ’86 with their debut album Especially For You, but rather that they slapped four new solid-state inner-tubes on a vehicle already turbocharged with the spirit of British Invasion rock and late-60s psyche-pop. Amidst the chiming chords, driving rhythms and trembling leads, the album had a bittersweet, almost melancholy cloud draped over its stories of star-crossed lovers and romantic betrayal. Curiously out-of-time for 1986, Especially For You nevertheless stood out among the erstwhile crop of made-for-college-radio-rockers, scoring minor modern rock chart hits with the hauntingly beautiful dirges “Behind The Wall Of Sleep” and “Blood And Roses.”

The band literally wrote its sophomore album Green Thoughts while trudging across the country night after night on their endless 1986/87 tour. As follow-ups go, it’s sheer gold, differing only slightly from its predecessor; as drive-in movie critic Joe Bob Briggs once wrote (or something like it, at least): “if you’re going to make a sequel, you have to make the same damn movie all over again.” Which, in many ways, is exactly what these New Jersey boys did with Green Thoughts, the album’s only glaring differences falling squarely on the shoulders of the producer. Whereas Don Dixon, the knob-twister on Especially For You, favored an eerie atmospheric mix that was long on theatrics and short on punch for that album, he imbued Green Thoughts with a tuff-as-nails, streetwise sound that virtually guaranteed a third-round K.O.

Green Thoughts opens with the screaming crop-duster “Only A Memory,” the song kicking off with a monster intro before galloping into a riff-driven lament about love long lost that is satisfyingly dominated by the mighty Dennis Diken’s ass-punting bass drumbeat behind frontman Pat DiNizio’s sadfaced-clown vocals. The song jangles when it’s the proper time to jangle, and it blasts when it’s time to blast, and DiNizio keeps a stiff upper lip amidst the pain while guest star (and Mrs. Don Dixon) Marti Jones adds her enchanting background vocals deep in the mix. “House We Used To Live In” is another master-blaster with pop aspirations and delusions of grandeur, Jim Babjak’s guitar cutting through the clouds like a ray of crystalline sunshine while DiNizio’s bittersweet-though-upbeat vocals sound punchier-and-prouder than ever.

There’s not a fumble to be found among any of Green Thought’s eleven fine tracks, songs like the swaggering, muscular “The World We Know” or the Byrdsian title track hitting your ears like the leaded-glove of a dodgy MLM snake-oil sales-pitch. The band recruited early-60s Detroit rock warhorse Del Shannon to add his considerable pipes to the former while the latter tune can boast of the best impersonation of a songwriter named McGuinn east of the muddy Mississippi.

The beautiful Kleenex-shredder “Especially For You” is a swanky ballad worthy of any of the best ‘60s-era purveyors of pop (and, strangely enough, does not appear on the album of that same name), the song benefiting greatly by the timely shading of Los Lobos saxman Steve Berlin’s lonely hornplay. DiNizio’s “Elaine” is a spry little slab o’ wonderment, another ‘60s throwback of solid construction and elegant execution with Duane Eddy-style guitarwork and staggering charm, which would sound great on radio even today…that is, if the medium still possessed a brain and a heartbeat.

As the ‘80s wore on, the Smithereens would crack the Billboard Top Forty chart with tracks like 11’s memorable “A Girl Like You” or Blow Up’s “Too Much Passion.” Those tunes were the wheat among the chaff, however, and the band would never again make great albums like they did with their first two efforts. The Smithereens always struggled with being a band that was a step or two out of pace with its peers, but we all just chalked it up to a “different drummer” and all that. When Blow Up was released within a week of Nirvana’s Nevermind in 1991, though, the sudden change in the rules all but sounded the death knell for the band’s whip-smart power-pop style...‘tis a shame, too, ‘cause both Especially For You and Green Thoughts reverberate like nothing before (or since). (American Beat Records)

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

Rediscovering Ian Hunter - Part Two

Rock & roll icon Ian Hunter always had something that his contemporaries didn’t – plenty of attitude. Although he came of age during the yellow mellow daze of hippiedom, Hunter was always too acerbic, too intelligent and too cranky to fall prey to the false aphorisms of the peace and love crowd. When the punk rock revolution hit the U.K. in 1977, many late-60s / early-70s British rock stars were swept away by the aggressive new cultural zeitgeist. Very few pop stars survived the explosion of punk and the swelling post-punk “new wave” that crested at the dawn of the new decade, most of them dismissed as tottering old duffers by the angry young men and women of the Mohawk-clad, safety-pin-wearing, torn-jeans crowd.

Outside of heavy metal, which rested comfortably on the edge of the musical mainstream, enjoyed its own set of rules, and which would experience its own genre-overturning moment as the NWOBHM raised its ugly head, only David Bowie, Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott and Hunter came through the 1977-78 stretch relatively unscathed. For Bowie, it was because he was just too damn weird, too brilliant and too chameleon-like to get pinned by the punk crowd – a moving target, as it were. Lynott recognized early on the promise and potential of punk and became a sort of older brother to the movement, but Hunter…his distinctive attitude expressed so wonderfully through both his own solo material and countless Mott The Hoople songs…became a sort of guiding light to the young punks, influencing bands from the New York Dolls and the Clash to Billy Idol and Generation X.

By 1979, the British punk “revolution” had largely fizzled out, the genre splitting into three distinct factions – the hardcore underground, represented by Crass, Conflict, Discharge, et al; the mainstream, which could boast of the Clash and Stiff Little Fingers among its frontrunners; and the “new wave,” which spawned a thousand disparate bands suddenly freed from the constraints of commercial expectations that had been crippled (though not eliminated entirely) by the rise of punk. Also in 1979, Hunter would release his fourth studio album, You’re Never Alone With A Schizophrenic, which ironically would become the most commercially successful and critically acclaimed album of a career that now spans five decades.

All of which, in a roundabout way, brings us to Hunter’s Welcome To The Club – Live. A two-album set that was originally released in 1980 and subsequently reissued on CD in 1994 with bonus tracks; it has been further embellished and expanded for its 2007 reissue by American Beat. Culled from a week of performances at the infamous Roxy in Los Angeles in support of You’re Never Alone With A Schizophrenic, the two-CD set does a solid job of capturing Hunter’s onstage energy as well as the instrumental talents of a band that included long-time friend and former Bowie guitarist Mick Ronson and bassist Martin Briley.

Welcome To The Club – Live features all of the songs that fans would expect: Once Bitten, Twice Shy, taken from Hunter’s self-titled 1975 debut; Just Another Night and Cleveland Rocks from Schizophrenic; and lesser-known gems like Bastard and When The Daylight Comes. Hunter throws a few surprises into the mix as well, like a scorching version of Ronson’s Slaughter On Tenth Avenue from his 1974 album of the same name, and a shockingly engaging reading of Sonny Bono’s Laugh At Me. Hunter reprises a number of songs from his Mott The Hoople days, including the breakthrough hits All The Young Dudes and All The Way From Memphis, both benefiting from wider arrangements, backing harmonies and lush instrumentation.

Through several issues and reissues over the past 27 years, Welcome To The Club – Live has picked up some extra baggage along the way, and it mostly all fits into the intended scheme of things as laid out on the original vinyl release. Mott’s The Golden Age Of Rock And Roll is provided an appropriately rollicking performance, and the additional medley of Once Bitten, Twice Shy / Bastard / Cleveland Rocks enjoys an energetic, rowdy rendering with Ronson’s screaming six-string licks and Hunter’s powerful honky-tonk-tinged piano work. Three “live in the studio” tracks originally intended for the vinyl release resurface here; We Gotta Get Out Of Here is a synth-driven new wave styled romp complete with chanted chorus that foreshadows Hunter’s work on albums like Short Back And Sides or All Of The Good Ones Are Taken. Silver Needles is a slower, more deliberate ballad that shows Hunter at his most Dylanesque, with a fine vocal performance and sparse instrumentation, while Man O’ War is a mostly unremarkable, mid-tempo claustrophobic rocker that would fit comfortably on any of the artist’s solo albums.

Here’s where the attitude part comes into play, however. By 1979, the kind of roots-based rambling rock that Ian Hunter preached was supposed to be passé, dead in the water…the Sex Pistols had told us so…but Hunter, in his arrogance, refused to change directions even when the market seemed ready to force his hand. Both the joyous celebration of rock music displayed by You’re Never Alone With A Schizophrenic and the raucous, spirited performances preserved in wax by Welcome To The Club – Live represent a belief in the overwhelming power of rock & roll and the value of a great song. This is probably one of the most honest live albums that you’ll ever hear, as well as a fitting document of Ian Hunter, one of rock music’s most respected cult artists, at the highest creative peak of his lengthy and storied career. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Welcome To The Club from Amazon.com)

Rediscovering Ian Hunter - Part One

By the time of the 1983 release of Ian Hunter’s All Of The Good Ones Are Taken, the rock legend’s career had survived at least two turns of the generational screw. The first, while Hunter fronted British rockers Mott The Hoople, came when the band’s foundering fortunes were revived by the timely contribution by David Bowie of his glam-era anthem All The Young Dudes. After Mott’s rendition of the song became a smashing success in both England and the U.S., they rode the subsequent record sales and radio airplay to a modicum of success in the glam-dominated early-70s rock & roll world. By 1975, however, glam had fizzled out and punk was on the horizon, as was the “New Wave Of British Heavy Metal,” and Hunter jumped ship to launch a solo career.

The second major turn for Hunter came with the critical acclaim and modest success of his fourth solo album, 1979’s You’re Never Alone With A Schizophrenic. Yielding AOR hits in the classic Just Another Night and fan favorite Cleveland Rocks (which was later popularized by its use as a theme song for the Drew Carey Show), the album hit Top 40 in America, Hunter’s best chart showing since his 1975 self-titled debut. His follow-up, 1981’s Short Back And Sides, was produced by Mick Jones of the Clash and featured a more aggressive rock-n-roll sound, but failed to meet the expectations of its predecessor; it peaked at number 62 on the Billboard album chart but dropped no hit singles and quickly sank from sight in the face of the cresting “new wave” and MTV.

All Of The Good Ones Are Taken, then, proved to be Hunter’s last grab at the brass ring. He had tasted success before, most notably with Mott The Hoople, but his waning solo fortunes and a changing musical environment had the musician skating on thin ice. With a core band that included bassist-around-town Marc Clarke, guitarist Robbie Alter and drummer/solo artist Hilly Michaels, Hunter recorded an album that has often been unfairly slagged as falling behind the artist’s loftier and acclaimed early efforts. In reality, if you enjoy and appreciate Hunter’s fairly-consistent ‘70s-era albums (Overnight Angels notwithstanding), you’d probably like All Of The Good One Are Taken. Aside from a couple of clunky song arrangements no doubt designed for MTV-influenced airplay, and elements of dated, thin ‘80s-styled production, the songs and performances here hold up reasonably well almost 25 years later.

The disc opens with the title cut, the sort of Dylanesque rocker that Hunter cut his teeth on, an erudite love song that offers a couple of whimsical vocal turns and an infectious chorus; it should have been a big hit upon its release. Cut from the same lyrical/musical cloth as better-known Hunter compositions like Just Another Night or Once Bitten, Twice Shy, and including a soulful sax solo courtesy of E Streeter Clarence Clemons, the song should be considered part of Hunter’s canon of great songs. It would also set the stage perfectly for much of the album to follow.

Every Step Of The Way is an enjoyable, big-booted hard rocker with a pop chorus and a stomping beat while Fun is a more intricate song, with an ever-changing musical horizon and a somewhat confused self-identity. With chameleon-like vocals, big band horns, heavy guitar riffs and a recurring tinny lead that foreshadows the coming Miami Vice years, is this an honest rocker or merely a sad relic of the times? Speechless is another artistic mistake, with waaayyy too much Flock O’ Men At Work styled punchy synth and the sort of short-attention-span arrangement that was de rigueur on MTV at the time. Hunter’s vocals sound like he recorded them in a helium booth. In this day and age, the song sounds horribly dated.

Luckily, there’s more muscle than flab on All Of The Good Ones Are Taken. Starting with a moody synthesizer/keyboard crescendo, Death ‘N’ Glory Boys is a grand, epic spaghetti western of a song, filled with provocative instrumentation and one of Hunter’s best vocal turns. Representing longtime Hunter foil Mick Ronson’s only appearance on the album, his six-string contribution is priceless. Understated beneath Hunter’s vocals and the symphonic grandeur of the keyboard work, Ronson’s subtle yet wiry fretted punctuations add a truly ethereal dimension to the song. That Girl Is Rock ‘N’ Roll fakes us out with a Huey Lewis & the News styled plinking synth intro before settling into a spirited, rockabilly-tinged rambler that would have fit perfectly on an early Mott LP.

The R&B influenced Seeing Double benefits from Clemons’ lush sax intro and some fine Northern Soul style backing vocals, the ballad offering up a smart set of lyrics and another fine Hunter performance, one that highlights the artist’s true range of talents. The original album version of All Of The Good Ones Are Taken ended with a reprise of the title track, reinforcing the power of the original while taking on an identity of its own with a wonderfully wistful reading and slowed-down, almost melancholy arrangement.

This American Beat reissue of the album tacks on a bonus cut in the form of the single version of Traitor, an ultra-cool ‘70s stadium rock throwback that starts with a Billy Joel type piano roll before jumping headfirst into a sort of metallic K.O. of the Billy Squier sort with a big, staggered rhythm and angry OTT vocals. I’m not sure of the song’s pedigree, or why it wasn’t originally included on the album, but it certainly had a chance to be a monster hit.

For whatever reasons, All Of The Good Ones Are Taken failed to capture the imagination of the record buying public at the time. Blame it on MTV, if you want, or on the strange days and times of the early-80s when punk and new wave and college rock and heavy metal clashed for our attentions. Regardless, after the album’s release and subsequent commercial dismissal, Hunter went on an extended hiatus that lasted until the 1990 release of YUI Orta, a collaboration with guitarist Mick Ronson that was credited to the Hunter Ronson Band.

In the 24 years following the release of All Of The Good Ones Are Taken, Hunter has released but a half-dozen studio albums and a handful of live discs with mixed results. While his work since 1990 has enjoyed a significant amount of critical acclaim, Hunter has seemingly given up his quest for stardom and instead concentrated on making good music. Nearly everything that Hunter has recorded through the years has merit and there is a wealth of great songs waiting to be rediscovered on albums like this one. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy All Of The Good Ones Are Taken from Amazon.com)

Nils Lofgren's Amazing "Wonderland"

There will be absolutely no argument about this, people – Nils Lofgren’s Across The Tracks should have been a mondo-huge radio hit. Period. I’ll hear no debate, no dispute, no qualifying…MONDO-HUGE radio hit! I’ve got the charts and pie graphs and seismograph readings to prove my point…and if that doesn’t convince you (wink, wink), I also have a ten-pound sledge and an itchy trigger-finger. Yeah, I thought so…

By the time of the 1983 release of Wonderland, Nils Lofgren had enjoyed status as a rock-n-roll wunderkind for over a decade, beginning with his brief tenure as part of Crazy Horse backing Neil Young, and continuing through his work with cult favorites Grin. Nils had half-a-dozen major label solo recordings under his belt by this time, but he was also on his second record label in only eight years, and had been unable to break free of the increasingly crowded rock guitarist pack. Lofgren seemed doomed to “also-ran” status for the remainder of his career, forever fated to being a critic’s darling. Critical acclaim doesn’t put beans on the table, however; you have to sell some records at some point in time.

Ultimately, when standing at the crossroads, he chose to put his career on the back-burner and take up Bruce Springsteen’s offer to join the E Street Band after the departure of popular guitarist Steve Van Zandt. The decision to take a walk down E Street made Lofgren a wealthy man, but one has to wonder if he has ever thought about what might have happened had he chosen to continue pursuing the brass ring on his own. Through the years, critics have pointed their collective fingers at various reasons for Lofgren’s failure to break through, from lack of label support and the unflinching ignorance of radio to the typically shallow production of the artist’s albums and even to Lofgren’s own lack of personality.

Wonderland was the last album that Lofgren recorded before jumping on the whirlwind Born In The U.S.A. tour with his New Jersey pal Bruce, and it stands tall among his best work. Contrary to what many pundits assert, Wonderland proves to this critic that Lofgren has no shortage of personality. A varied and heartfelt collection of material that was well-rehearsed and basically captured live in the studio, the album provides Lofgren with the guitar showcase that he had always deserved.

The aforementioned Across The Tracks is an energetic tale of star-crossed lovers, Lofgren’s spirited vocals complimented by a heavy drumbeat, an undeniably catchy melodic hook, great Romeo & Juliet lyrics and some damn fine guitar work. Edgar Winter throws in barely-audible backing vocals. Unlike some of the other songs on Wonderland, Across The Tracks doesn’t suffer from period production – this is a timeless rocker that plays across the decades. Kudos to Andy Newmark for his killer stompin’ on the drum kit…

Ole Nils switches gears with Into The Night, a moody, atmospheric semi-ballad that displays Lofgren’s abilities as a crooner, his passionate lyrics matched with a lush arrangement and subtle six-string flourishes. I Wait For You is a larger-than-life Springsteenesque mid-tempo rocker with stellar fretwork, notes flying everywhere as the drums ring clear like a jackhammer, Kevin McCormick’s throbbing bass tossing the boys a lifeline to pull them out of this emotional quicksand. The title cut is a syncopated, slightly Latin-flavored tune that reminds me of NYC; with backing vocals by the underrated, can’t-outstay-her-welcome-in-my-house Louise Goffin, the song is an enchanting romp through, well, Wonderland.

Wonderland was produced by Lofgren with his long-time bandmates McCormick and Newmark, and the work they did was ‘magnifico,’ accentuating their instrumental strengths and Nils’ solid songwriting chops while pushing Lofgren’s sometimes too-slight vocals to new heights. Confident Girl is a great example of the chemistry between the three, Lofgren’s guitar blazing with laser-like intensity while his vocals speak of a confidence that was sometimes lacking from his earlier work. Throw in some nice three-part harmonies and a one-two rhythmic knockout punch and Confident Girl could have easily been the second hit single from the album. Goffin also chimes in on the reggae-splashed Everybody Wants, Lofgren channeling his inner-Garland (i.e. Jeffreys) on this warm, infectious tune.

That’s not to say that there’s not a little chaff among Wonderland’s many pearls. Deadline might be a great song live, but as captured in the studio, it just stinks up the joint. The guys fell prey to the “sound de jour” and mucked up a song with an otherwise scorching guitar solo with new wavy synth punctuation that sounds hopelessly out-of-date a quarter-century later. Plus, Newmark’s delicious bass-heavy drumming is tossed aside in favor of a tinnier, repetitive, ‘radio-friendly’ snare drum beat that would induce a migraine in even the heartiest of listeners. The entire song sounds not dissimilar to the dreck produced by a lot of major label bands at the time, all trying to get their stuff on MTV. Ditto for Lonesome Ranger, a meager ballad that wastes Carly Simon’s perfectly good backing vocals in the creation of a funky, plasticized grab for airplay; there’s nothing here to differentiate it from a dozen other, slicker period bands that don’t have a tenth of this trio’s talent.

Overall, Wonderland signals the beginning of an evolution in Nils Lofgren’s creative direction. He would make one more very good (and similar) solo album in 1985’s Flip before taking the next six years away from recording. When Nils came back to the studio, he had matured as both an artist and a guitarist. He had toured the world as part of the biggest, baddest instrumental ensemble that has ever graced a stage in the E Street Band, taking part in marathon live shows that would test the talents of any musician. By the time of 1991’s Silver Lining, Lofgren had better than two decades under his belt and his vision was clear, his influences fully absorbed.

Although Lofgren’s creative output has been infrequent in the 24 years since Wonderland, resigned mostly to live albums and performances, there is no doubt that this album stands as a high water mark for the guitarist’s astounding career, an often overlooked album (released by American Beat for the first time in the U.S. on CD) well deserving of another listen. (American Beat Records)

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

Graham Parker's The Real Macaw

In the early-80s, Graham Parker was clearly a man in search of a voice. Unfairly branded with the “rock’s angry young man” albatross at the beginning of his career, a lot of the furor over Parker’s amazing first two albums – 1976’s Howlin’ Wind and Heat Treatment – slipped away when his label failed to capitalize on the media buzz; subsequently a slightly less angry (and therefore more palatable) musical alternative in the form of Elvis Costello came along to steal Graham’s thunder.

Parker reached, perhaps, the commercial and critical peak of his career with 1979’s Squeezing Out Sparks, which rose to number 40 on the Billboard album charts. He followed that album’s success with 1980’s The Up Escalator, a solid effort but one that failed to meet the expectations created by its predecessor. Parker tried to shake things up by splitting with his long-time backing band the Rumour for 1982’s Another Grey Area, recording instead with a group of session musicians. The album’s overly-slick and tiring production (courtesy of Jack Douglas) failed to hit a comfortable stride, however, further reinforcing Parker’s gradual slide down the charts.

For 1983’s The Real Macaw, Parker brought in a couple of familiar faces – former pub-rock mate Brinsley Schwarz on guitar and Squeeze’s Gilson Lavis on drums – to help augment the studio band’s sound. It was a smart move, as Schwarz’s easy-going but deceptively complex fretwork proved a perfect match for Parker’s increasingly sunny lyrics, while Lavis’s subtle drum fills and steady rhythms supported Parker’s upbeat vocals. Parker had gotten married previous to the recording of The Real Macaw and obviously had romance and relationships in mind while crafting the album’s fine selection of songs. Coupled with sympathetic production by David Kershenbaum (Joe Jackson, Tracy Chapman), these songs really have a chance to take flight.

Beneath his perpetually angry façade, The Real Macaw proved Parker to be a real pussycat, a hopeless romantic helpless in the face of love. His budding relationship proved to be an invaluable muse, resulting in several strong songwriting efforts. The syncopated, energetic Sounds Like Chains features one of Schwarz’s most impressive performances, the guitarist delivering fluid leads and dynamic riffs behind Parker’s gruff vocals. Last Couple On The Dance Floor offers slightly rockabilly-tinged fretwork resting comfortably alongside the typical driving ‘70s-era Parker arrangement, the song’s celebratory lyrics reveling in the glow of new love behind a rockin’ R&B sound.

The album’s minor hit single, Life Gets Better, is, in my mind, one of Parker’s best songs from across his lengthy and impressive career as a wordsmith. The song’s arrangement is firmly new wavish as only the early-80s could muster, but the underlying framework is pure ‘60s soul, from Parker’s up-tempo vocal phrasing to the horns punching through the mix, with the singer unabashedly exploring the benefits of a romantic relationship with a Motown zeal. Miracle A Minute follows a similar tact, with an infectious ‘60s pop vibe punctuated by Mel Collins’ blazing sax.

The American Beat reissue of The Real Macaw features the live version of Parker’s take on the Jackson 5 classic I Want You Back. My old buddy Kent O had slapped this priceless gem on a mixtape for me 25 years ago, and I get the same feeling listening to it today that I did then…Parker’s vocal performance is solid, Grade ‘A’ soul, a magnificent adult perspective provided Michael Jackson’s tale of adolescent romance. The song is absolutely at home here when taken in context with the rest of material on The Real Macaw, a great addition to one of the more overlooked and underrated albums in the Graham Parker canon. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy The Real Macaw from Amazon.com)

Rediscovering Robert Gordon

One of the very cool things about the punk revolution of ‘77 was the major label’s begrudging willingness to listen to new sounds. With many of the arena-rock giants of the era either dying off or rapidly becoming irrelevant, record labels were forced to cast an eye about for something new and exciting to exploit. They didn’t really understand this punk rock stuff and, truthfully, most of it scared them half to death. This is what the kids were listening to, tho’, and they had to put out something to bolster flagging album sales, so….

The labels subsequently began a feeding frenzy that extended well into the “new wave” daze of the early-80s, throwing out albums by new artists with alarming regularity, tossing them up against the wall to see what stuck. This haphazard approach resulted in a wealth of truly crappy music, but it also gave voice to many creative and influential artists of enduring stature. It was an exciting time to be a fan of music, because one really never knew what the next new band would bring to the table.

Even by the relatively relaxed standards of the late-70s, it’s still a wonder that rockabilly Robert Gordon ever landed a label deal in the first place. Not that his music was terrible; on the contrary, his unique take on the rockabilly sound was firmly rooted in a heartfelt love and appreciation for the music. Rather than attempt to mimic the style, as the Stray Cats would do with varied success half-a-decade or so later, Gordon’s musical homage was authentic and natural. In every way that counted, Robert Gordon was a rockabilly singer, standing in as stark a contrast to the punk rockers of the day as they did to the “dinosaurs” they had allegedly replaced.

It probably didn’t hurt that Gordon was signed to producer Richard Gottehrer’s Private Stock label, which was distributed by RCA Records, the label home of rockabilly icon Elvis Presley. Gordon found a kindred spirit in Gottehrer, and recruiting, perhaps, the greatest rock guitarist of the ‘50s – Link Wray – the singer, the producer and the six-string marvel ventured into the studio during two different months in 1977 to record what would later become two legendary albums – Robert Gordon With Link Wray and Fresh Fish Special, both released in 1979.

The first of the two albums, Robert Gordon With Link Wray, finds the singer taking tentative steps towards recreating the rockabilly sounds that inspired him as a teen. The results are encouraging: tunes like the raucous “Red Hot” or the slinky “Summertime Blues” really tear up the asphalt while slow dances like “Sweet Surrender” place an emphasis on Gordon’s fine vocals, his infectious baritone swooping and soaring across the lyrics. Wray’s guitar swings pretty freely, subtly spicing up the material, but my one complaint would be that the band never really cuts loose and sets the studio on fire. Save for a couple of Wray originals, most of the tunes here are vintage nuggets, well chosen, and some of them, like “Flyin’ Saucers Rock & Roll,” threaten to leap right off the turntable. The album is a fitting tribute to Gordon’s influences, nearly-forgotten original rockers like Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran and Johnny Burnette.

Gordon and Wray hit their stride with their second collaboration, Fresh Fish Special. Recorded shortly after the tragic death of Elvis Presley, the King’s spirit is channeled throughout these performances. The album’s musical format is loosened up a bit – think Elvis circa ’65 rather than the rockabilly ‘E’ of ’55 – to include tunes like the classic New Orleans swinger “Sea Cruise” or the crooning ballad “Blue Eyes (Don’t Run Away).” There’s plenty here to satisfy the listener’s inner-rockabilly, however, from the shuffling “Five Days, Five Days,” with Wray’s tasty guitar licks complemented by the Jordanaires’ vocal harmonies, or the grand, Presley-esque “If This Is Wrong.”

Gordon knocks an obscure Elvis cover, “I Want To Be Free” from the movie Jailhouse Rock, right out of the park with a soaring performance, while the rollicking “Twenty Flight Rock” swings like an out-of-control wrecking ball. One of Gordon’s biggest fans, Bruce Springsteen, hand-delivered the eloquent “Fire,” which the singer makes his own with an inspired performance, and “Red Cadillac And A Black Mustache” is your typical sordid ‘50s-era tale of love gone wrong, the song’s shuffling beat paired with one of Gordon’s best vocal interpretations.

These two classic late-70s albums helped kickstart a rockabilly revival that resulted in ‘80s-era bands like the Stray Cats and Matchbox, and continues to inspire roots-rockers like the Reverend Horton Heat and the Legendary Shack Shakers. The new reissue label American Beat Records recently released Robert Gordon With Link Wray and Fresh Fish Special on a single CD, remastered for an invigorating sound and with short liner notes.

Although neither of these fine albums made much of a commercial splash at the time of their release, they’ve gone in-and-out-of-print several times through the years and have displayed greater longevity than many better-known and better-selling artists. More than a relic of a time long passed-by, these albums are a treasured document of an almost-anything-goes era where an entertaining performer like Robert Gordon could make his voice heard. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy Robert Gordon with Link Wray/Fresh Fish Special from Amazon.com)