Return of the Romantics!

The Reverend was lucky enough to have lived in Detroit circa 1979-80, drinking in a local music scene that remains, in my mind (and that of a lot of Motor City geezers of a similar vintage), as one of the best that's ever been, anywhere. Yeah, you may not have heard of a lot of 'em, but bands like the Mutants, Flirt, Coldcock and Cinecyde cranked out a lot of great music back in the day. The city's music scene was moving beyond its bloody history as a pre-punk, proto-metal, lord of the flies killing fields (a rep built on the carcasses left behind by the likes of the Stooges and MC5, but also other late-60s/early-70s Detroit bands like SRC, Frost, Third Power and the Amboy Dukes).

By 1977, when things really begun hopping across the pond in the U.K., Detroit bands had started branching off into every musical direction they could think of – pop, power-pop, rock, punk rock, metal, noise and, of course, the white light/white heat of the mighty Sonic Rendezvous Band. On any given night of the week circa 1977-81, you could catch somebody tearing up the stage at Uncle Jams, the New Miami, or one of a dozen other area clubs. One of the most popular local outfits on the scene was the Romantics. With matching red leather outfits (as seen on the cover of their debut album), and a blistering, red-hot live show that would burn up just about any stage they set a match to, the question of the band's ascendency to the major leagues wasn't "if," but rather "when."

Formed in 1977, the Romantics issued an independent single on their own, "Little White Lies" backed with "I Can't Tell You Anything." Championed by Blitz, Mike McDowell's local music zine, the band's high-flying regional shows brought them to the attention of Bomp Records' pop guru Greg Shaw, who released the band's second single, the delightful "Tell It To Carrie," backed with the equally marvelous rave-up "First In Line." Major label interest ensued, and the band eventually signed with Nemperor, an Epic Records imprint that also boasted of Steve Forbert's seminal early work.

In late-1979, Nemperor/Epic Records released the Romantics self-titled debut album. Almost lost beneath a landslide of similar-looking, new wavish album releases, The Romantics seemed to be commercial long shot by any standard. Still, the album's lead track, "When I Look In Your Eyes," is a real charmer, the kind of heart-melting power-pop aphrodisiac that could grab the interest of any little girlie. With jangly guitars, nifty vocal harmonies and a steady, manic-though-danceable drumbeat, it was a wise choice to kick off the band's introductory album. The Romantics quickly slip into "Tell It To Carrie," an understated gem of '60s-styled garage-pop with a wonderful guitar line – part Dick Dale, part Duane Eddy – following that potent one-two punch with the aforementioned "First In Line."

Of course, the song that everybody wants to know about, the one that saved the album (and the band) from also-ran status is the ubiquitous "What I Like About You." After better than two decades as a TV commercial and classic rock track, the song has taken on an entirely different meaning than what the band probably intended originally, and given their well-publicized management problems, I'm not sure that they even made bank on it. Nevertheless, it's an enduring slice of guitar-driven melodic pop, with more hooks than a fishing tournament. A recognizable riff and some handclaps set the stage for a just-shy-of-three-minutes Kinks-style rocker that sticks in your ear and burrows straight towards the medulla oblongata. Throw in some blastin' mouth harp work, a sing-along chorus, and more rattlin' six-string work than anybody else was sporting back in '79 and you have an enduring classic o' the rock variety.

But there's plenty more where that came from on The Romantics. The Detroit foursome pays homage to the master with a brilliant cover of the Kinks "She's Got Everything;" although delivered sans British cheekiness (and accent), the band makes up for it with a wall-of-sound built upon taut fretwork, rapid-fire drumbeats and swaggering vocals. The thinly-veiled surf sound of "Little White Lies" includes just enough lively pop roots to make the song a real mover, while the sideways guitarwork of "Gimme Me One More Chance" does little to hide the understated rocker's anarchist tendencies; the blast of guitar at roughly the two-minute mark is enough to jolt any listener out of their complacency. The result was a solid album that has grown in esteem through the years.

A few months later, in early-1980, the band released its sophomore effort, National Breakout. The album largely eschewed the guitar-drenched, power-pop dynamics of the band's debut, throwing disparate musical elements into the mix and falling prey to a sort of generic '80s rock blasé. From the opening chords of the dubious "Tomboy," the changes are apparent…the instrumental soundtrack is sparse, filled with raw vocals and a big beat rather than the omnipresent guitars of the debut. When the song's lone guitar lead pokes its head up above the mix, it’s a bit of a relief. Throughout the album, there's no doubt that the drums are larger and the vocals less warm than previous.

Still, some of National Breakout stands up to the band's debut. "New Cover Story" is the sort of jangling, bittersweet romantic outline that the band was made for, with a slight return to the harmonies of the debut and some fine guitar work. The title cut is a raucous carbon copy of the band's original sound, with a bonfire beat and chanting six-strings, while the nostalgic cover "Friday At The Hideout" offers up tribal rhythms and pure shambolic garage rock vibe. Revived from the band's first 45 for this album, the Bo Diddley backbeat and Chicago mouth harp of "I Can't Tell You Anything" is good-to-great, with minimal instrumentation and blustery vocals.

Whether the band was trying too hard, had too little time to come up with new material, or just overshot the mark in their attempt at total chart domination, National Breakout is a 50%-50% proposition at best, an entertaining enough album, but the palest of ales when compared to the extra stout taste of the Romantics' finely-brewed debut. Of course, American Beat has removed all of the guesswork, doubt and frustration by slapping both of these albums together on a single disc, thus pacifying the band's many existing fans and providing a way for nascent power-pop junkies to get the cheap thrills they crave. Since both of these titles have been tragically out-of-print for over a decade, kudus for their overdue revival. Buy this new two-fer for The Romantics and get the good songs from National Breakout as a bonus.

Of course, we aren't spoiling the end of the story by revealing that the band would follow-up the moribund commercial response received by National Breakout with the universally reviled Strictly Personal in 1981. Fortunes often deign to change quickly in the pop music game, though, and a couple of years later the Romantics hit the lottery with the towering achievement that was In Heat. Yielding a pair of big-time hit singles in "Talking In Your Sleep" and "One In A Million," the success of both songs no doubt fueled by the sexy video of the former and the catchy hooks of the latter. Inexplicably, In Heat also remains out-of-print, so maybe the American Beat folks can get on the job and get it back on the street…. (American Beat Records)

(Click on the CD cover to buy The Romantics/National Breakout 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)