CD Odyssey Disc 519: K-OS

I had the craziest dream last night; imagining I was Chuck Norris.  The rest of the dream was even weirder, but I am not going to write about it here, because I think it can be molded into a good short story and I don’t want to spend all that energy in a second hand description.  Instead I’ll take some time on my coming week off and write it up properly.  Minus the Chuck Norris part, of course.  That’s just silly.

Following, you will find not a fascinating dream sequence, but instead another music review.  If you want to read my other writing, you’ll have to wait until I’m published.  I live in hope…

Disc 519 is…. Exit

Artist: K-OS

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover?  I call this “Exit Sign in Green.”  I assume it is supposed to imply that exits can be positives (green means go) not just negatives.  At least that’s my take.  K-OS tells us in the liner notes that “It seems that we all fear the ending of our ‘selves’, but in reality we fear losing all the things we ‘know’ especially who we THINK we are.  So, in reference to this album, ‘exit’ means to leave your SELF behind.”

So that’s K-OS’ take, which is fair enough, but he really needs to express himself without ALL CAPS.  That stuff just looks awkward.

How I Came To Know It:  I got into K-OS in 2004 when I heard some songs from his follow up album, “Joyful Rebellion.”  I decided to drill into his back catalogue, which at the time was pretty much just “Exit.”

How It Stacks Up:  We only have two K-OS albums, and I prefer “Joyful Rebellion” pretty strongly, so I’ll put “Exit” second.  It is better than “Atlantis” though, which was so disappointing I sold it long ago.

Rating:  3 stars.

Most modern hip hop artists think of themselves as being lovers of all music.  They prove their point by sampling from a wide range of music, but the truth is most of it is from one or two genres.  Few artists actually demonstrate a deep love for many different styles, but K-OS is one of them.

You can tell because he doesn’t just sample a tiny lick from some other musical style to serve hip hop, he brings in extensive explorations of other styles into hip hop wholesale, and lets you appreciate them as equals.  Despite its incredibly ridiculous title, “Superstarr Pt. 1” is built entirely on a reggae beat, with hip hop layered on top and works well together.  “Patience” incorporates smooth techno sounds and “Higher” has a soulful jazz sound that belongs on a Sade album not a rap record.

This is probably a bad time to say that none of these songs are my favourites.  They are all OK, and they are catchy enough but they don’t overwhelm me.  I mention them because I admire the way K-OS respects the other genres he incorporates into his chosen art form of hip hop.

The two songs I like the best – “Fantastique” and “Freeze” are two that are the most traditional rap/hip hop songs on the record.  “Freeze” is particularly awesome, with a funky beat and a verse that is so catchy, I found myself singing it out loud at a couple of street corners before I caught myself.

“Freeze” also cleverly takes a common theme in early rap – the “I can rap better than you” beginnings of the genre, and combines it with K-OS’ longstanding mission to speak out against egotism.  In the song, he basically calls out an MC for telling kids to pursue ‘dough’ over character, and not being a role model.  Yeah, it sounds like a bad after-school special theme song, but K-OS makes it work.

K-OS takes on this humility trip so much, he even apologizes in the liner notes for his record having too much ‘ego’.  Of course, as a rapper he acknowledges that is an intrinsic part of his art form, but he at least recognizes the nature of his own hypocrisy.  We’ve all got some of that, and recognizing it keeps it in check.  I’m not sure how K-OS is scoring himself these days (I tuned out after “Atlantis” in 2006), but back on his first record I believe him.

Back to the music, and something I always admire about K-OS, which is his strong singing voice.  He can rap pretty furiously, and he puts together some great rhymes, but he also can hold a tune.  A lot of modern rappers bring other singers in to do harmony hooks, and they rap around them, but K-OS does it all on his own.

I found some of the songs near the end of the record a bit directionless but none are truly terrible.  Even the indulgent answering machine message full of freestyling from his buddy at the end of “Masquerade” works in its way.  That said, none of the songs other than “Freeze” really blew me away either, so I can’t recommend this album above a solid three stars.

Best tracks:  Fantastique, Freeze, The Anthem

CD Odyssey Disc 518: Interpol

Today is my stepfather Lawrence’s 83^rd birthday.  He’s having a hard time of it these days but he’s a good man, and I love him.  Happy birthday, Lawrence.

I wish I could have celebrated Lawrence’s birthday with a better album, but the dice gods had other plans.

Disc 518 is…. Antics

Artist: Interpol

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover?  I like the simplicity, but would it kill these guys to leave a space between the band name and the album name?

How I Came To Know It:  I believe Sheila discovered this band on the radio through their 2007 album “Our Love To Admire.”  Seeing that she liked them I decided to get her another one of their records for a gift and this was it.

How It Stacks Up:  We only have two Interpol albums; this one and the aforementioned “Our Love To Admire.”

Rating:  2 stars but only barely.

As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a music habit, and it often leads me to mine an entire artist’s collection when I decide I like them.  With a few notable exceptions, Sheila is generally happy to get just those records she really likes.  Because of this, when I buy Sheila a CD as a gift I try to make sure I get her something that I think she’ll like more than me.  Otherwise, it is just me feeding my own insatiable music habit.

Sheila really likes “Interpol’s” 2007 album, “Our Love to Admire” and I thought it was pretty good too, so getting “Antics” - their previous album – seemed like a safe bet on all counts.  I would’ve been better off gambling on Scratch N’ Wins.

“Antics” is the worst of modern indie music.  A boring conglomeration of people plunking away on multiple instruments to make a droning wall of sound that essentially deadens what little melody is worth hearing.

I had a hard time figuring out what most of the songs were about because they were so monotone just paying attention was a challenge. I looked for lyrics in the CD booklet, but it was just page after page of out-of-focus band member shots, white dots and dashes on a black background, and two out of focus shots of hallway lamps that look like an art-school project gone wrong.

The one thing I’ll stand up for is the rhythm section, which is pretty good.  The drummer is strong and the bass player actually lays down some interesting licks, when the excessive production isn’t drowning him out.

The opening track, “Next Exit” is also pretty good overall.  It has a nice slow tempo and a sparse production that showcases a bit of tastefully placed piano.  Even the guitar player shows his stuff when he finally gets a chance to do a little actual playing, rather than the two or three repeating notes that mars the remainder of the record. 

The rest of the songs all have the same repetitive sound.  They will occasionally start with an interesting riff here or there, but it isn’t long before the band has drowned it into the usual talk-shouting of obtuse lyrics and jangling repetitive arrangements that make even four minute songs feel interminably long. 

The lead singer (whatever his name is) has that droning emotionless vibrato that has spoiled more than a few good albums, except this is not a good album to start with. Sheila thinks the singing style sounds like a cross between Morrissey and Ethel Merman and I must agree.

Like the Smiths, this is music for awkward teens to lie on their bed staring at the ceiling, occasionally sighing or exclaiming “Gawd!  Life is so lame!”  Alternatively, it could be used as auditory scene decoration for an episode of the Vampire Diaries or any other one of the soap operas masquerading as Gothic art these days.

Whatever this music is, it isn’t for me.  I still enjoy their follow up, “Our Love To Admire” and I’m looking forward to reviewing that one when I roll it.  As for “Antics” I’ll be parting ways with it permanently, with Sheila’s full blessing.

Best tracks:  Next Exit

CD Odyssey Disc 517: The Irish Descendants

It has been quite the run on Canadian folk recently.  My next album is the third one in a row.

Disc 517 is…. Gypsies & Lovers

Artist: Irish Descendants

Year of Release: 1994

What’s up with the Cover?  Attention folk artists:  this is how you do a cover.  Keep it simple, keep the graphic lines neat and clean and, if possible, ensure your band has a groovy logo.  When it comes to the importance of a groovy logo folk musicians are only rivaled by metal bands.

How I Came To Know It:  I already liked the band through owning their debut album (reviewed way back at Disc 60) and so it was a natural progression to buy their next one.  Also, I had recently taken a trip to Ottawa and while I was there I was introduced to a cool pub called the Heart and Crown.  It had a live east coast act every night, and I got to know the Stan Rogers classic “Barrett’s Privateers.”  I didn’t yet own any Stan Rogers, so the fact that “Gypsies & Lovers” had a cover version was also a selling feature.

How It Stacks Up:  I have five Irish Descendants albums, and “Gypsies and Lovers” is the best.

Rating:  4 stars but close to 5.

As you can tell if you checked that link to Disc 60, the Irish Descendants will never win a beauty contest.  However, it is their good fortune to work in a musical genre that is not obsessed with image and marketing.  Folk music fans do look for strong musicianship, however, and on that front these guys have few equals.

“Gypsies & Lovers” is their third album, and also their best.  The musicianship is so tight it is seamless and when I hear them all playing together in such perfect harmony it is sad to think that a few years later they’d have a bitter falling out.

Since this album comes on the heels of two other Canadian folk albums, comparisons are inevitable.

I praised the Rankin Family for Jimmy Rankin’s “Roving Gypsy Boy” but it falls short of what the Irish Descendants deliver with the traditional number, “Raggle Taggle Gypsy.”  Admittedly Jimmy’s song is an original composition so points for that, and he also has a happier story to tell – the ‘roving gypsy boy’ being basically a friendly traveler that shares freely with those he meets on the road.  By contrast, the ‘raggle taggle gypsy’ runs off with some rich guy’s wife, which seems far less hospitable.  To be fair, the story is a happy one from the perspective of the wife.

But the melody in “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” can’t be denied, expertly carried by some kick-ass bouzouki playing (I think) layered with tin whistles, bodhrans and a bunch of other traditional instruments I don’t know enough to pick out.

I also noted the beautiful love song on the last Gordon Lightfoot album, “Dream Street Rose” but once again the Irish Descendants have it beat with a remake of Donovan’s “Catch the Wind” which is not only better than Lightfoot’s offering, it is head and shoulders better than the Donovan original.  “Catch the Wind” may be principally about wooing a woman, but it is so beautifully constructed not falling for its charms would be the bigger sin.

The Irish Descendants also bravely tackle the Stan Rogers’ classic, “Barrett’s Privateers” and do a strong job.  Rogers version has a raw gusto that appeals, but the Descendants put a polish on it that the original can’t match.  I heard the Descendants version first, and so I have a soft spot for it, but I like them both in equal measure.

The struggles of Newfoundland’s fishing industry is a common thread through all Descendants albums, and “Gypsies & Lovers” entry into the catalogue is “Will They Lie There Evermore” a heartbreaking tale of an aging fisherman watching not only his livelihood pass away, but also his neighbours moving away and ultimately, his own son:

“Well I hear people say we’d be better off to stay

Ashore and train for jobs outside the fishery

Now wouldn’t I look like a fool to go traipsin’ off to school

After forty years of living off the sea

“Now my son he’s barely twenty one and handy at the trawl

For years he helped me fish the Labrador

Now he’s moving to Ontario before the first snowfall

‘Dad there’s nothing left for me ‘round here no more.

“And I wonder will I see his children born

And I wonder will they lie there evermore.”

When the album isn’t causing me to well up with stuff like that, it is wowing me with technical excellence.  The bodhran and fiddle playing on the reel medleys “Merry Blacksmith/Swallow’s Tale/Banshee” and “My Lagan Love/Drowsy Maggie/Dionne Reel” are both amazing.  “Rattlin’ Bog” is a bit of a silly song that is more of a musical exercise than a joy to listen to.

That said, as someone who is still struggling with keeping even the simplest guitar rhythm at a steady tempo, listening to these guys deftly and deliberately increase tempo ever so slightly through about fifteen increasingly complex verses is quite something.

Very few of the songs are originals to the Irish Descendants, but with the exception of “Barrett’s Privateers” I don’t have anyone else doing them, so they are original to me.  If you were to only own one record by these guys, this is the one to get.

Best tracks:  Raggle Taggle Gypsy, Catch the Wind, Barrett’s Privateers, Merry Blacksmith/Swallow’s Tale/Banshee, Will They Lie There Evermore

CD Odyssey Disc 516: Gordon Lightfoot

I’ve had a very positive week so far.  I’ve been enjoying my work, and I’m only a week away from a much-anticipated holiday.  I’m just back from an enjoyable guitar lesson and I’ve got music in my heart.  Well that last part is always true, but sometimes it is closer to the surface than others.

Disc 516 is…. Dream Street Rose

Artist: Gordon Lightfoot

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover?  Gord keeps it simple with a ‘here I am singin’ my songs’ shot.  Unfortunately, the low resolution and black and white look to the cover make it seem like it is one of those where I lost the booklet and have replaced it with a photocopy.  I can assure you this is the original, mediocre as it is.

How I Came To Know It:  As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve known Gordon Lightfoot since I was a kid.  I found a tape of “Dream Street Rose” in the bargain bin at A&B sound over twenty years ago – I think it was $3.95 or something like that.  I bought it because it was cheap and because I didn’t recognize any of the songs from my “Gord’s Gold” greatest hits package, so it would be new material for me.

How It Stacks Up:  I have eleven of Gordon Lightfoot’s studio albums. “Dream Street Rose” is not the strongest, but it holds up OK.  I’ll put it eighth or ninth.

Rating:  3 stars.

“Dream Street Rose” is the last of Gord’s “pre-mumble” albums.  It is not considered a classic, but it does show that artists can still bang out quality records many years into their career if they put their shoulder to the wheel.

In the case of “Dream Street Rose” the wheel is likely to be part of a ship’s helm, with Lightfoot continuing his long fascination with nautical themes.  I’m a sucker for nautical themed folk music, so this is fine with me.    The album’s best example is “Ghosts of Cape Horn” which starts with a catchy melody, whistled over some gentle guitar picking.  Lightfoot immortalizes the thousands of sailors that have died mostly nameless deaths braving Cape Horn around the southern tip of South America:

“Come all you old sea dogs from Devon

Southampton, Penzance and Kinsale

You were caught by the chance

Of a sailor’s last dance

It was not meant to be

And you read all your letters

From oceans away

Then you took them to the bottom

Of the sea”

I once met someone who had navigated around Cape Horn without power (i.e. sailed), not once, but twice.  He was the living embodiment of a salty sea dog, leathery with deep creases in his face full of salt.  He looked tough as nails but as “Ghosts of Cape Horn” underscores, even your best effort might not save you if you hit a bad patch of weather going around the Cape.  I like that Gord pays homage to these unfortunates even as he imagines them doomed to haunt the wrecks:

“See them all in sad repair

Demons dance everywhere

Southern gales, tattered sails

And none to tell the tale.”

Except you Gord, - you told their tale.  Maybe that will give them a modicum of respite from their weary haunting as a result.

On “Sea of Tranquility” Lightfoot sings about sailing from midnight ‘til noon, but you wouldn’t be sailing on that particular sea without a space suit.  Instead, Gord sings about the various ways to enjoy the natural world here on the earth by the light of the moon, which is both safer and more economical.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to visit the actual Sea of Tranquility if I live long enough.  If so, I’ll remember to pack the song to appreciate the experience.

While the album has its share of whimsical folk music, it is heavily influenced by country music as well, with typical songs of love and heartache.  This far into his career, Lightfoot constructs a beautiful song in what seems like an effortless fashion.  “Dream Street Rose” has a strong country music component, and while it is a simple love song, it is also a deeply optimistic one.  Sometimes your partner is temporarily away, and that just means you appreciate them all the more when they return.  The guitar work (Terry Clements on lead) is amazing as well, and rivals anything on Lightfoot’s more well-known records.  I’d love to be able to play a simple melody this beautifully one day.

“Whisper My Name” is less upbeat, and while it references plenty of wooing, it is with an expectation that love is ephemeral.  Sometimes all we’re left of relationships are the whispered names of those who’ve drifted out of our lives along the way.  Musically the song captures both the sadness and triumph of these old relationships as well.  not every love affair ends with the permanent romance of “Dream Street Rose” but that doesn’t mean they weren’t worthwhile in their way.

I know this album really well (for years it was one of my only Gordon Lightfoot albums other than Gord’s Gold) but I have to admit it is uneven in quality.  If it were on vinyl, side one would be considered great, but side two merely average.  Owning this originally on tape this was particularly annoying because it led to fast forwarding large sections (not on the CD Odyssey though – Rule #3:  a full listen, monkey!)  Ideally on a tape if it can’t be all good, you want the first half of side one and the second half of side two great.  That way you can just keep flipping it mid-way through.

Over the years I’ve just let it play through though, and as a result I’ve gotten to know the other songs and their subtleties have grown on me.  I think this record is a solid three star effort, and although not where I would point newcomers to Gord, I’d have no problem recommending it for someone well into his catalogue already.

Best tracks:  Sea of Tranquility, Ghosts of Cape Horn, Dream Street Rose, Whisper My Name

CD Odyssey Disc 515: The Rankin Family

A long weekend is a beautiful thing.  If you are like me and are lucky enough to be experiencing one right now, take a minute to appreciate it.  Also resolve to be particularly nice to all those people in jobs that have to work.  All those cab drivers, servers, and retail clerks that get paid low wages to ensure we nine-to-fivers can go for lunch, go shopping or otherwise entertain ourselves.  Treat them well, and tip them generously.

Disc 515 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: The Rankin Family

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover?  As folk covers go, I’ve seen worse.  This is basically just a family portrait taken in a studio.  Heather (centre) looks particularly radiant but what I’m struck by most is that two of the Rankin family (Raylene and John Morris) are no longer with us; victims of cancer and a car accident respectively.  Damned sad.  To both of them I can only say, ‘fare thee well’.

How I Came To Know It:  I was introduced to the Rankin Family in 1990 when I bought their second album and loved it.  I eagerly cast about for more by them and since they only had two albums at the time, this was the next thing I bought.

How It Stacks Up:  I have six Rankin Family albums, which I think is all of them.  I like them all to varying degrees, but I must be honest and put their self-titled debut last in terms of how it stacks up.

Rating:  3 stars.

You could sum up the Rankin Family’s eponymous debut in one word:  cheerful.  In places it is almost too much so, but if you’re going to have a surfeit of something, cheer seems like as good a thing as any.

I bought this album very early in my exploration of Celtic folk music, and it was a nice entry point.  The three musical medleys (the “Piano Medley”, the “Fiddle Medley” and the “Jigging Medley” respectively are a couple of quick tours through a number of catchy traditional Celtic songs (thirteen little pieces in all, with a John Morris original, “Hull’s Reel” bringing up the rear of the “Fiddle Medley”).

The Gaelic tracks are accessible, and both have their titles translated so you will know what they are about, even if you can’t sing along.  “Chi Mi Na Morbheanna (Mist Covered Mountain)” is down tempo and haunting, and “Mo Run Geal Dileas (My Faithful Fair One)” is fast and fun.  “Mo Run Geal Dileas” is the first track and when I first starting listening to the album it was the first thing I heard as I walked to work.  It put a spring in my step and a smile on my face.

“Dileas” (pronounced jee-lass) means faithful, and when Sheila and I went to Scotland in 1996 we met a sheep dog at a highland pub named “Dileas.”  I remember that pub well, which was 90% locals (and given the size of the town, likely 90% of the available locals), a couple of U.S. sailors from a visiting aircraft carrier that had gotten a bit farther afield than their fellow servicemen, and us.  I usually hate having a dog in a pub, but when they are as friendly and well behaved as Dileas, I’ll make an exception.  Knowing what his name meant because of the Rankin Family made me feel that much more part of the local crowd.  Of course, the Rankins are Canadian (holla!) not Scots, but being Cape Bretoners their musical connection to Scotland and Ireland is easy to spot.

Another song that inspires me to flash a grin is “Mairi’s Wedding, also traditional.  If this song doesn’t make you want to dance then there’s something wrong with you.  Each of the three sisters and brother Jimmy take their turn singing a verse.  They do this throughout the record, and I would prefer that the stronger voices take more centre stage on some other songs.  That approach would just seem unkind given the wedding celebration vibe of “Mairi’s Wedding.”  John Morris doesn’t sing, but he tags his own fiddle reel (titled “Michael Rankin’s Reel”) onto the end of the song.  John Morris is an accomplished fiddle and piano player and his musicality is a big part of the album’s success.

The album is also an early demonstration of Jimmy Rankin’s songwriting.  Jimmy would later be responsible for many of the more memorable Rankin Family songs, and after the band went their separate ways, would release a number of excellent solo albums. At this early stage, his songwriting prowess is not yet fully developed, and I found songs like “Lonely Island” and “Loving Arms” a bit stilted or trite in places.  His best effort on this record is “Roving Gypsy Boy.”

Even so “Roving Gypsy Boy” has some odd lyrics.  Jimmy sings that the gypsy boy “left the high road to live on the low/And all different kinds that he met there.”  He means that he didn’t pursue monetary wealth, but in Gaelic lore the low road often refers to being dead, which made for a weird association for me.  Also, while I like this message…

“There’s a lot more to gain from this living than wealth

There’s a lesson to learn with devotion

Be kind to all others as well as yourself

Or you’ll drift like a boat out on the ocean.”

…isn’t a boat supposed to drift on the ocean?  It seems to serve the rhyme more than the thought, which is a poetic no no.  I still love the song, though.

The album can tend a bit away toward being a bit too ‘dear,’ and the ever-present cheerfulness lifts the spirit, but it doesn’t create enough emotional range.  “Lament of the Irish Immigrant” tries to deliver a bit of despondency, but sung a capella in such a technically precise manner it feels more like a musical exercise than a dirge.

Because of the beautiful harmonies, the early signs of Jimmy Rankin’s musical genius and the superb musicianship of John Morris Rankin, I bumped this record just north of three star territory but I still consider it the weakest entry in their catalogue.

Best tracks:  Mo Run Geal Dileas, Mairi’s Wedding, Roving Gypsy Boy, Chi Mi Na Morbheanna, Fiddle Medley.

CD Odyssey Disc 514: Blue Oyster Cult

Finally another review of the band that I always feel most closely associated with – Blue Oyster Cult! (OK – tied for that honour with Alice Cooper and Leonard Cohen).

I am just back from guitar lessons with my guitar guru Josh, who thankfully taught me how to change my strings (they were sounding terrible).  Teach a man to fish, etc., etc.

He also taught me a new song – a Blue Rodeo favourite!  More on that later but for now, ladies and gentlemen; on your feet or on your knees; here they are, the amazing… Blue…Oyster…Cult!

Disc 514 is…. Spectres

Artist: Blue Oyster Cult

Year of Release: 1977

What’s up with the Cover?  There is a lot going on in this cover.  I think they were going for something that evoked an eerie smoking room in some Lovecraft short story, but it is pretty clearly a bunch of hastily arranged props in a photography studio.  The set decorators obviously had a lot of fun.  You can practically still hear them yelling, “more curiosities!  I want old luggage!  I want a mirror with a hand in it!  Give me an antique phone…an hourglass…and a bust.  Also – stuffed cat!  Stuffed cat!”

Some of the guys took it more seriously than others, as you can tell.  Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom (centre) got all dressed up but some of the guys clearly just put a suit jacket on over their T-shirt.

At this stage of their career Blue Oyster Cult were renowned for their laser light show, so it is no surprise that they’ve managed to work frickin’ lasers into the cover as well.  These are mostly blasting out from behind the bookshelf, but one is going into (or out of) Donald Bloom’s eyes.  It doesn’t matter which because – lasers!  Man, I love this cover.

How I Came To Know It:  As I’ve mentioned in previous reviews, I grew up listening to Blue Oyster Cult.  I first heard this album when my brother bought it in 1977. I was seven years old.  I’ve been hearing it ever since.

How It Stacks Up:  I have eleven studio albums by Blue Oyster Cult.  Of those albums, “Spectres” is one of my all-time favourites.  I’ll rank it third.

Rating:  5 stars.  Yes, at least two other BOC albums are five star albums.

Can excessively listening to an album over a thirty-five year span unduly influence how you feel about it?  Can it remove any hope for objectivity?  Probably, but since all knowledge is subjective, I don’t feel bad saying “Spectres” is a rock classic.

It begins with one of Blue Oyster Cult’s most iconic songs, “Godzilla.”  This song has one of the most recognizable rock riff openings in music.  Thick and reverbatory, it sets you up for the arrival of monster moviedom’s greatest star, Godzilla. Is it silly to sing about a giant lizard “[picking] up a bus and throwing it back down/as he wades through the village for the centre of town?”  Maybe, but Blue Oyster Cult treats the subject with such thorough reverence you are drawn in nonetheless.

It also helps that “Godzilla” features Buck Dharma – one of rock’s most accomplished players, delivering some of the greatest guitar work of his career.  As usual, Dharma lets the guitar occupy its proper place in the mix so the song is served first, and so his genius playing doesn’t tread on any other band members.  The song also has one of the funkiest bass solos ever.  Yes, in the seventies bands occasionally did bass solos.  It wasn’t easy, and there were many failed attempts, but on “Godzilla” BOC shows you can brave the bass solo if you do it right.  If you count the beginning of another “Spectres” track – “Searchin’ For Celine” they manage it twice on one record.

This album is about a lot more than “Godzilla.” “Spectres” showcases the bands many talents.  At times heavy rock like “Godzilla”, at times showing their love of sixties doo wop (“Goin’ Through the Motions”), and also delivering atmospheric progressive songs (“Golden Age of Leather,” “Death Valley Nights”).  Often they attempt grand themes which threaten to over-reach but never quite do.  This record is powerful even in its weirdest, campiest moments. 

As I may have mentioned in the past, I have an MP3 player that is pretty light on memory.  It only holds about 400 songs, and with the CD Odyssey ongoing, the turnover is pretty intense (my rule is that any song I mention in “best tracks” section must stay on for at least a run of 30 reviews and then it is a free-for-all).  Very little has lasted from my first upload five or six years ago, but “Spectres” has not one but two such survivors.

The first – “Death Valley Nights” – is half a dreamy mood piece with piano, and half a guitar driven rock extravaganza.  This song captures the loneliness of the desert at night, and how it reflects on the loneliness of separated relationships as well.  It is angst ridden, rebellious and in places downright mystical.

The other long-term MP3 survivor is “I Love the Night” a song about a man who encounters a vampire on a late night walk and soon succumbs to her charms.  Dharma’s creepy gothic guitar riff establishes a mood-drenched atmosphere better than anything he’d done since his masterpiece “Then Came the Last Days of May” on the band’s debut five albums prior (another song that never leaves my MP3 players).

I listen to this song repeatedly, often singing along.  One day soon I hope to learn it and play along on guitar as well.  It begins:

“That night her kiss told me it was over
I walked out late into the dark
The misty gloom seemed to soak up my sorrow
The further I went on
I felt a spreading calm

“Then suddenly my eyes were bathed in light
And the lovely lady in white was by my side
She said, “Like me I see you’re walking alone
Won’t you please stay?”
I couldn’t look away”

It may be schlocky to read but it impacts wonderfully as a song.  Listening to it this time around I am confident it inspired my first novel.  I have over a thousand albums full of songs, but only one ever inspired me to write a book, so that’s something special.

As an aside, there is a song called “Goin’ Through the Motions” which isn’t the strongest entry, but is a pretty little pop song that Bonnie Tyler covers on her “Faster Than the Speed of Night” album in 1983.  I will one day man up and purchase that record if only for the cover (I used to own it on tape).  It isn’t the greatest song on “Spectres”, but even the lesser lights have sufficient charm to catch the attention of not just me, but Ms. Tyler at the height of her career (it wasn’t a hit for her or BOC).

The album ends with “Nosferatu” an ode to the F.W. Murnau classic silent movie from 1922.  Along with “Godzilla,” “Nosferatu” reinforces my suspicion that the BOC boys liked to stay up and watch late night horror on TV.  In 1977 I was doing the same thing (yes, at age seven).

As with “Godzilla” they tackle “Nosferatu” with a sincerity that cuts through the many potential failings inherent in referencing pop culture.  Oh, also – “Nosferatu” the song features (again) some of the finest guitar work, a kick ass solo and some brilliant production decisions mixing piano in and out as needed.  The whole tale is ably told in under five and a half minutes, complete with all the love and lust and dark desire of the original story.  Here is a perfect song.

My only regret with this album is that when you see Blue Oyster Cult live these days they only ever play two songs (the obvious and “R.U. Ready to Rock.”  I would happily pay to see them play the entire record in order.

If you were to only ever own three Blue Oyster Cult albums (and you should have at least three), this should be one of them. An under-appreciated classic, from an under-appreciated band.

Bonus tracks:

I have three copies of “Spectres”:  the original album on vinyl, an original CD issue and a remastered version.  The vinyl is best, but the remastered CD is pretty good as well.  It also features four bonus tracks of varying quality.  Most don't grab me, but the one extra I do appreciate is a remake of the Ronette’s 1963 classic “Be My Baby.”  Like KISS singing “Then She Kissed Me” on “Love Gun,” this song demonstrates BOC’s early musical roots, and their genuine affection for early doo wop.  Also, they do a fine job of the song.

I usually only listen to the original album only, however, because the ten original tracks are so perfectly put together that adding any of the bonus material just spoils the mood.  This record should always be book-ended by “Godzilla” at the front, “Nosferatu” at the end and eight other amazing songs filling in the middle.

Best tracks:  all ten original tracks, and “Be My Baby” from the bonus material, if you’re inclined.

Figurine: Steampunk Angel

Welcome back, music lovers!  You may be thinking, "hey - that doesn't look like an album cover."

As you will note from the subtitle to the blog, I talk about music AND the occasional painted miniature. It is very occasional these days; the last figurine I posted was in July 2012.  I finally finished this guy on Sunday.

I call him "Steampunk Angel."  If you can't tell from this photo, he is actually floating above the ground (although he's foolishly dropped his helmet).  He has a censer swinging between his legs, and two 'attendants' holding up his cloak:

I think I did a good job on this guy, even if it did take way too long.  Here he is from behind, showing the shading detail on his cloak.  Also, you'll see the 'attendants' are plugged in somehow with rubber tubing.  Hmmm...

Those tubes are the first clue that not all is at it seems.  He is actually flying by means of some kind of jetpack technology hidden under his cloak, and affixed to the back of his armour.  It is hard to see, but on this side view you can see them just below his shoulders.  This angle also shows his sword, which is gratuitously festooned with roses.

This figure is a good reminder that if an 'angel' ever does descend from the sky one day and start issuing edicts, it is always wise to check for a jet pack before you decide to fall in line.

CD Odyssey Disc 513: Public Enemy

Happy Saturday!  I’m home from a bunch of random errands, mostly pleasant, and now I’m going to write this review.  I was actually home an hour ago, but I fell down the Youtube well – more on that later.

Disc 513 is…. It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back

Artist: Public Enemy

Year of Release: 1988

What’s up with the Cover?  The Messenger of Prophecy and the Cold Lamper (aka Chuck D and Flavor Flav) appear to have been arrested for some crime which – if you listen to the record – is either illegal firearm possession or stealing samples.

How I Came To Know It:  After I finally succumbed to the good advice of many decades and bought “Fear of a Black Planet” (reviewed back at Disc 480), it was a simple matter to move on to this album, which chronologically came just prior.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Public Enemy albums.  I like all of them, but “It Takes a Nation of Millions” is easily the best.

Rating:  5 stars

“This time around the revolution will not be televised,” Chuck D advises at the beginning of this album, breathing new life and new perspective into the ideas of another man – Gil Scott Heron – a generation earlier.  For an album that came at the height of the debate of how sampling could be considered new music, I can think of no better starting point.

I admit that back in the late eighties I was dubious at the idea of sampling.  I even thought of it as stealing, not realizing at the time that every other form of music ‘samples’ all manner of things:  chord progressions, licks, styles, imagery – you name it.  It is part of art, and listening to “It Takes A Nation of Millions” you would be hard pressed to call it anything other than art, and great art at that.  This album is rife with sampling; beautifully rife with it.  Rife like a garden is rife with flowers, or a rainbow is rife with colour.

When I reviewed “Fear of a Black Planet” I noted that sometimes the sheer number of layered samples made the songs too busy in places.  There are a ton of samples on “It Takes a Nation of Millions” as well, but they serve the music so much better.  The songs never lose their genuine funk, and despite the many samples, remain melodic and connected.

It may be my bias toward Queen, but my favourite sample is the Flash Gordon theme used in “Terminator X To the Edge of Panic.”  This is a seamless blend of rock into rap on a level far more interesting than simply having Anthrax play guitar on a track.  Also, the way Terminator X scratches the sample into the groove takes the original Queen classic to another level.  Later in the song, Chuck D lays down his grade A raps in praise of his DJ as the song grows organically into something even better.

The album has sixteen tracks, which is two more than I usually think reasonable.  However, in this case all sixteen are exceptional.  So hard to pick my favourite on a record with this many classics, but I always return to “Don’t Believe the Hype,” which is a wide-ranging dissing of the band’s detractors, and more generally anyone in society who would prefer they stay silent.  A couple of sections from the song exemplify the band’s thoughts for those critics and reviewers they might offend:

“The book of the new school rap game

Writers treat me like Coltrane, insane

Yes to them, but to me I’m a different kind

We’re brothers of the same mind, unblind

Caught in the middle and

Not surrenderin’

I don’t rhyme for the sake of riddlin’”

And later:

“Leader of the new school, uncool

Never played the fool, just made the rules

Remember there’s a need to get alarmed

Again I said I was a time bomb.”

These lyrics show that while they can be funky and fun as all hell, Public Enemy were also very much about taking on serious topics.  When Chuck D says “again I said I was a time bomb” he is reminding both listeners and detractors that if you give him a stage, he might say some things that folks don’t want to hear.

A lot of the undercurrents here are frustration in black communities and racial tension in the U.S. that as a middle class white kid from Canada I will never be able to understand.  That said, listening to “It Takes A Nation of Millions” gives me some insight – however fleeting – into a different experience than my own.  For me that is a big part of what good music is about.

And this is good music, regardless of any other message.  Every song, whether it is sampling Queen, a James Brown horn lick, a speech of some political figure or just some (not so) random dialogue always delivers a beat that loosens your backbone and gets you grooving.  That’s another big part of what music is all about.

To return to Gil Scott Heron, his quote got me thinking and I had to learn more.  I looked it up on the Interwebs and found that it was originally the title of a spoken-word poetry piece which is absolutely awesome.  This led me to a six part documentary on Heron detailing his life, his poetry his music and all the artists he influenced.  I watched the whole thing in one go before returning to write this review.

Heron was sometimes known as the “Godfather of Rap” (a term he both enjoyed and finds a humorous reminder of his age).  In 1993 he released a song called “Message to the Messengers” where he reminded young and upcoming artists that they had a responsibility to speak the truth, and make not just their own communities better, but to make a difference world-wide.  It was inspiring stuff.

Now I want to know more about Heron, particularly his music.  All this because Public Enemy borrowed his phrase and put it onto an album that was so amazing that it helped convert me from a distrustful ‘metal-only’ teenager to a fledgling appreciator of protest rap.

Best tracks:  all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 512: Thin Lizzy

Back from my guitar lesson which interrupted the Boston/Toronto overtime.  I taped it, which means at this very moment I do not know who won the game, but will be watching it when I’m done this review.  It’s a little distracting, but I’ll do my best to focus on the music.

Disc 512 is…. Johnny the Fox

Artist: Thin Lizzy

Year of Release: 1977

What’s up with the Cover?  This is one of those covers from an era where you could do a lot more with album art, because vinyl was so much bigger.  Reduced down to compact disc size it gets a little hard to sort out.  Near as I can tell this is some sort of ancient alien artifact, no doubt unearthed by ancient Celts (who subsequently decorated it with some of their fancy knot-work) and then used it as a wildlife viewer.  Currently, they’re looking at a very mangy fox who – we must assume – is named Johnny.  What, you have a better theory?

How I Came To Know It:  As I noted when I reviewed “Jailbreak” back at Disc 360, my friend Spence is heavily into Thin Lizzy.  When I really loved “Jailbreak” I asked him for his next Thin Lizzy recommendation, and he suggested “Johnny the Fox.”

How It Stacks Up:  When I wrote my last Thin Lizzy review it was January 2012 and since that time I’ve bought four more of their albums, bringing my total to five.  Of those five I’d put “Johnny the Fox” second, close behind “Jailbreak.”

Rating:  4 stars

While my journey through Thin Lizzy’s music is far from complete, my favourite albums so far (“Fighting”, “Jailbreak and “Johnny the Fox’) are all in a glorious row in the middle of the seventies.

The subject matter of Johnny the Fox covers the usual Thin Lizzy range from the basic struggles of the working class man through to the fantastical.  It doesn’t really matter what these guys sing about, because Phil makes it all sound good.  Believe me when you can make “Cocky Rocky, the rock and roll star” resonate as a lyric, you’ve fully committed to a song.

Of course, it is helped by Phil Lynott’s  talent.  Lynott’s voice is smooth, smoky and instantly recognizable.  It is a voice made to sing rock and roll. Grounding Lynott’s bluesy, hard rock/lounge lizard voice in something edgier is guitarist Brian Robertson, who plays a lick with the best of them, doing so in an era where the best of them were all still hard at work.

All that, and that song (“Rocky”) isn’t even one of my favourite tracks on the album.  For a true masterpiece of Lynott’s rap-rock stylings and Robertson’s guitar, I recommend track five, “Fool’s Gold.”  This song has everything guitar riffs, Lynott telling a tale of the hard done by working class Irish, including a weird spoken-word intro about the terrible famine in that nation’s history.

When I first heard “Fool’s Gold” it sounded oddly familiar, and after a while I realized how much the initial riff sounds like the hook for Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”  This didn’t really bother me because a) imitation is the highest form of flattery and b) I’ve got a soft spot for Pat Benatar.  In fact, I am missing the album with “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” – I’ll have to get that…but I digress.

Back to the awesomeness that is “Johnny the Fox,” which builds on “Fool’s Gold” with the gratuitously yet gloriously titled, “Johnny the Fox Meets Jimmy the Weed.”  This song infuses proto-rap, and R&B-inspired grooves with the guitar licks, showing yet another side of the always versatile, but ever-rocking Thin Lizzy.  This is a song about the urban underworld of drug dealers and dangerous neighbourhoods.

It connects nicely with the album’s final track, “Boogie Woogie Dance” which has a frenetic flower-power feel to it.  Here we have the end customer for Johnny the Fox’s illicit activities, dancing with wild abandon under the influence of God-knows-what.  The production on this song has a deliberate fuzziness and lack of focus, as Lynott sings about popping pills and freaking out.

The album also has a softer side, with ballads like “Borderline,” “Old Flame” and “Sweet Marie.”  Remember AM radio?  All those sappy and saccharine ballads about love?  Those were songs that made you think about long days in the summer, cruising around town, meeting girls and hanging out at the beach with your radio on the hood of your muscle car.

Well – imagine if those AM radio songs didn’t suck.  Imagine instead they had some substance beyond just their melodies, with some tasteful guitar licks and a guy singing who actually sounded like he knew something about heartache that he hadn’t learned about from a Harlequin romance.  If AM radio had love songs as good as the ones on “Johnny the Fox” I might never have turned my back on the radio.

I’m glad I did though, because turning my back on the radio is what encouraged me to get into buying complete albums, and that in turn one day helped lead me to delve into Thin Lizzy when given the suggestion by a good friend.  It led me to great records like “Johnny the Fox” that North America has sadly forgotten; records that desperately need to be remembered.  But how will people ever hear about an album like this, so they’ll go and better their music collections by buying it for themselves?

Well, if you’ve read this far, I think you’ve just answered that question.  Now get out there and do yourself that favour.

Best tracks:  Johnny, Borderline, Fool’s Gold, Johnny the Fox Meets Jimmy the Weed, Old Flame

CD Odyssey Disc 511: Black Mountain

I raced out of work right at the closing bell so I could get home and watch the Bruins/Leafs game.  Fortunately, my Bruins prevailed 5-2.

Go! Go! Black and Gold!

Disc 511 is…. Black Mountain (Self-Titled)

Artist: Black Mountain

Year of Release: 2004

What’s up with the Cover?  Black mountains.  I guess when you’re starting out you want to keep it simple and make sure the cover evokes something about your band.  Mission accomplished.

How I Came To Know It:  I had discovered this band in 2008 through their second album “In the Future.”  I liked that record so I sought out their earlier self-titled effort shortly thereafter.

How It Stacks Up:  I have three Black Mountain albums which I think is all of them.  Black Mountain has steadily improved, but that means their first record is also their weakest.  I put it third.  Since this is my last Black Mountain review, per CD Odyssey tradition, here’s a quick recap:

1. Wilderness Heart: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 315)
2. In the Future: 3 stars (reviewed way back at Disc 4)
3. Self-Titled: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Rating:  2 stars

When I first heard Black Mountain it was on the release of their second album and I was pretty excited with what I heard.  People who’d known them longer were less impressed and when I got this album I could see why.

The big thing the Black Mountain detractors tell me is that the band refuses to commit to their sound; that they’ve got too much indie irony in their seventies-tinged hard rock.  As I noted back on my review for “Wilderness Heart” this is a problem that has pretty much been cured by their third album.  On their self-titled debut, however, it is still painfully evident.

In terms of being over-clever the album couldn’t get off to a worse start with “Modern Music.”  Nudging and winking its way through saxophone notes that seem designed to mimic farts, the song wants to inject a Lou Reed feel into the band’s sound, but it just comes off as a Dadaist piece about how modern music is empty and devoid of meaning.  This song proves that point very well – so well it manages to make itself into a hot mess of self-mockery.

At this point I’d be tempted to just sell the damned record (as I did with heinous spinoff project “Lightning Dust”) but fortunately the second track on the album, “Don’t Run Our Hearts Around” is one of the better songs.  Here the band lays down a guitar riff that would’ve been equally at home in 1968 and groove it out.  The band loves the combination of hard licks and soft vocals, and it can be jarring, but on “Don’t Run Our Hearts Around” they get the mixture right, and deliver a post-sixties psychedelic rock song that sounds fresh for the oughts.

Amber Webber’s bewitching voice was the siren’s call that led me to the tepid waters of “Lightning Dust,” but unlike that record, in Black Mountain it is used mostly in the cause of good.  Co-lead vocalist Stephen McBean also sings well on the album.  If anything I could have used more of their voices carrying the melody and less weird sounds that seemed to be added for the sake of effect.  These weird sounds are OK on “Druganaut” where the subject matter makes them fit, but on other tracks like “No Hits”, they feel superfluous and directionless.

Later on the record, the band returns to the themes already beaten to death in “Modern Music” with “Satisfaction” which deliberately recalls the Rolling Stones, but not in a particularly evocative or interesting way.  With lyrics like:

“’cause everybody likes to claim things

And everybody likes to shame things

And everybody likes to clang bells around.”

the band seems intent to point out that we all like sixties and seventies rock and roll.  However the song doesn’t have a triumphant or unifying feel to this commonality.  Rather they want to talk about what they’re doing, rather than just doing it.

Long drawn out tracks populate the album, but with the exception of the passable “Set Us Free” they didn’t hold my interest.  Moreover they tend to be progressively stacked to the last half of the album, causing the whole record to flag as it approaches the finish line.

I found myself contrasting this album with Jack White’s many projects, which clearly draw on his deep and abiding love for rock and roll history from Robert Johnson all the way to the present.  White’s approach draws you in; Black Mountain’s approach on this record pushes you away, and maybe I’m old fashioned, but that’s not what rock and roll is about.

Five years later, when Black Mountain released “Wilderness Heart” they had found their feet, and the glimpses of their considerable talent that peak through here were finally in full bloom.  It was still a work in progress on their debut.

Best tracks:  Don’t Run Our Hearts Around, Druganaut, Set Us Free

CD Odyssey Disc 510: Tom Petty

I wanted to mark this next album down, because to not do so would mean giving Tom Petty three five star albums.  Oh well; the ear hears what it hears, never mind the heart.  Petty may even end up with four perfect scores before it’s all over.

Disc 510 is…. Full Moon Fever

Artist: Tom Petty

Year of Release: 1989

What’s up with the Cover?  Tom Petty, posing with his guitar.  I like the simplicity of this cover.  The colour scheme, the font, Tom’s pose – the whole thing just adds up to a nice overall effect – kind of like the music on the album itself.

How I Came To Know It:  This was a monster album – commercially the biggest of Tom Petty’s career.  It went platinum five times over in the U.S., six times in Canada.  I know it because I didn’t live in a cave in 1989.  I first bought it on tape, but quickly upgraded to CD.

How It Stacks Up:  I have fourteen Tom Petty albums (11 with the hearbreakers, and 3 solo).  “Full Moon Fever” is one of the best; I’d put it third.

Rating:  5 stars

Great albums are rarely attributable to just one person, and although “Full Moon Fever” is a solo project from Tom Petty, by any reasonable standard it is a collaboration.

In this case the collaboration is principally with Heartbreaker guitarist Mike Campbell and E.L.O. frontman and producer/writer phenomenon Jeff Lynne.  The liner notes inexplicably thank a laundry list of other famous musicians – everyone from Roger Whittaker and Roger Miller to Stevie Nicks and the Bangles.  I assume they were each inspirational in some way, but Campbell and Lynne do the heavy lifting.  Of the twelve expertly constructed songs on “Full Moon Fever” Lynne is cowriter of seven, and Campbell claims two.

I’ve mentioned it before (I think) but Petty as a solo act is always a bit more pop-oriented than when he’s got the Heartbreakers with him.  Campbell keeps enough rock edge on this album to give it the gas it needs to power Lynne’s post-disco production values.

When I say post-disco it may come across as a slur, but nothing could be further from the truth.  For one thing, I actually like the Electric Light Orchestra.  Yeah – you read that right, punchy.  Even if I didn’t love ELO, the production decisions on this record take a decade’s worth of album-wrecking eighties production ideas and show the world how it should be done.

Every mistake of synthesizer and fuzzy production made on previous efforts like “Southern Accents” and then “Let Me Up (I’ve Had Enough)” are corrected.  Instead you get a wall of sound that keeps Petty’s roots alive by understanding that even when you add a bunch of organ and odd percussion, you still need to let the guitar speak loudest in a rock and roll song.  Even on a repetitive mood piece like “A Face In the Crowd,” Lynne lets the guitar have little moments here and there that keep the song interesting.

Which brings us to the songs, which as I noted earlier are pretty well known.  “Full Moon Fever” spawned five top ten singles, three of which (“Free Fallin’”, “I Won’t Back Down” and “Running Down a Dream”) hit number one.  “Free Fallin’” remains one of the great feel-good anthems in the history of rock and roll.  Twenty-four years after its release it still sounds fresh and inspired, and it will for decades to come.

“Runnin’ Down a Dream,” is co-written by Petty, Lynne and Campbell.  The song has a pedal-down feeling with two amazing guitar riffs, as well as a classic Mike Campbell solo that never gets old.

At the end of “Runnin’ Down a Dream” there is a true ‘of its time’ moment.  The song fades out and Petty’s voice comes on, saying:

“Hello, CD listeners. We've come to the point in this album where those listening on cassette, or records, will have to stand up, or sit down, and turn over the record. Or tape. In fairness to those listeners, we'll now take a few seconds before we begin side two...Thank you. Here's side two.”

The weirdest part is that I think I used to own this on tape, so when I got it on CD for the first time I thought this was particularly hilarious.  It is now a joke referencing not two, but three dated technologies (I am under no illusions about my CD obsession, dear reader).  Still, I find it funny – if anything it is funnier now. I find myself hoping that everyone who downloads the song doesn’t get that part, so it’ll just be for us ‘old timers’ who get to enjoy it.

There are no bad songs on this album.  “Zombie Zoo” is a bit weak at the end, but I still like it, and the song captures perfectly the empty existence of night-clubbing:

“All down the street they’re standin’ in line

With white lipstick and one thing on their mind

Hey little freak with the lunch pail purse

Underneath the paint you’re just a little girl.”

The irony here is I was heavily clubbing when this album came out, likely chasing after the very girls Petty is mocking. 

The other song where the lyrics have a personal connection is “The Apartment Song” which goes:

“I used to live in a two-room apartment

Neighbours knockin’ on my wall

Times were hard, I don’t wanna knock it

I don’t miss it much at all.

“Oh yeah I’m alright I just feel a

Little lonely tonight

I’m okay most of the time

I just feel a little lonely tonight.”

When I first moved to Victoria I lived in a two-room basement suite, where I could often hear the landlord’s kids playing in the rumpus room next door (good kids, mind you).  “The Apartment Song” always brings me back to that experience, and being up-tempo, it reminds me of the fast and loose quality of youth at the same time.  I like the way the music of the song catches the energy of being young (note the night clubbing mentioned earlier), while the lyrics remind us that sometimes all the energy in the world can’t dispel a little loneliness.

Overall, the lyrics are not complicated but they perfectly fit the songs all of which will sound as fresh and easy as “Free Fallin’” for decades to come, even if they don’t get the same amount of radio play along the way.

It was hard to separate my long relationship with this album, and the incredible commercial success it enjoyed.  The over-familiarity tends to simultaneously inflate how I feel about the songs because of how well I know them (see any of my KISS reviews for this effect in action) even as I look more closely for missteps so I can prove the masses who also loved it wrong.

At the end of the day, though, you can’t let the crowd’s reaction decide what you think of something.  This record made me feel damned good just listening to it, and what’s more, it shows that not every album produced in the eighties had to be poorly handled.  This is the eighties done right.

Best tracks:  all tracks – even Zombie Zoo