CD Odyssey Disc 710: Alice Cooper

Another long day that started early, but I capped it with a good workout and am feeling rather pleased with myself as a result. Also, I enjoyed my latest album – it is almost like this CD Odyssey I am on is filled with albums right out of my own collection…

Disc 710 is…. The Last Temptation

Artist: Alice Cooper

Year of Release: 1994

What’s up with the Cover? A nightmarish collage of temptations and troubled figures, gathered around the master of the macabre himself, Alice Cooper. Alice appears to be casting a spell over some sort of mystical Bunsen burner. Or he could just be trying to get warm – he’s so cold he’s gone blue!

How I Came To Know It: Believe it or not there was a period when I stopped buying Alice Cooper albums. After 1991’s “Hey Stoopid” I was starting to feel like he didn’t have another really great record in him so I moved on. Also, I was really heavily into folk music in the early nineties, and my obsession left little room for other styles.

Then ten years later I was given 2001’s “Dragontown” for my birthday and I discovered I’d just missed a relative renaissance of Cooper’s career. I earnestly began to drill backward until I finally got to “The Last Temptation.”

How It Stacks Up:  I have 26 Alice Cooper albums, which I think is all of them. “The Last Temptation” holds up pretty strong – definitely top half, although probably not top ten. I’ll put it 11^th.

Rating: 4 stars.

For five years from 1986 to 1991 a newly sober Alice Cooper decided he was going to be an eighties metal star. When I was a teenager it made me perfectly happy, but these albums have not aged all that well. “The Last Temptation” is Alice shedding notions of what he ‘should’ do to be successful and getting back to doing what he does best: mixing shock rock with broad and ambitious musical concepts.

The album is the first in a loose trilogy of records which continues with “Brutal Planet” (2000) and “Dragontown” (2001) that explain the fall of man into damnation. The theme becomes progressively broader on the later records, but on “The Last Temptation” it is focused on one man’s temptation.

“The Last Temptation” is almost a sequel to 1976’s “Alice Cooper Goes to Hell” except instead of it all happening in a dream sequence, you get the impression that it is happening for real. The circus has come to town, Bradbury style, and the devil’s got an offer you can’t refuse. Cue music.

The first song is “Sideshow” which is a passable track that introduces the titular temptation. Passable except for one thing – it pretty much pulls its melody wholesale out of the Clash’s “Lost in the Supermarket.” I’d like to think it is an homage, given the similar themes of consumer/wish culture, but I can’t deny what I heard and the liner notes don’t have any credits noting the Clash.

With that one sour note out of the way, “The Last Temptation” steps up and delivers an amazing journey through Alice Cooper’s favourite recurring theme – getting dragged to hell. As a recovering alcoholic and born again Christian it isn’t a surprising theme for him, but for all that I don’t know anyone who does it with quite the same panache as he does.

Cooper’s signature take on empty consumer culture is on fine display in “Lost in America” which is one half indictment of the lack of opportunity and one half indictment of the people who use that as an excuse to not move forward. The song opens:

“I can’t get a girl cuz I ain’t got a car

I can’t get a car cuz I ain’t got a job

I can’t get a job cut I ain’t got a car

So I’m looking for a girl with a job and a car.”

It is this kind of logic that’ll get you signing a deal with the devil.

Later the album introduces us to other lost souls in the devil’s playground. My favourite is “Smoky Joe” who appears on the song “Bad Place Alone.” Smoky Joe is described as “thin as a coroner’s needle” shaking like a cold Chihuahua, with a runny nose and a road map on his arm. It is all so delightfully grim.

The album alternates from heavy, crunchy rock to more ballad-like structures and is reminiscent of Cooper’s early records with the Alice Cooper band. The mix shows that Alice has finally synthesized the lessons he learned from eighties metal back into his own style. He’s absorbed it, dissected it and now he can simply add it to his repertoire without letting it rule the entire sound of his record. It is a welcome evolution.

When the songs get stripped down, such as on “Stolen Prayer” and “It’s Me” you can hear Cooper’s vocals, that are still very strong at this stage of his career. He tends to sing a lot of songs in a raspy tone, but on tracks like these you get to see his range, switching from smooth and folksy up into controlled aggression with equal ease.

The album ends with “Cleansed by Fire” a fine - if over-amped - rejection of the devil song. Instead of waking up, as he does at the end of “Alice Cooper Goes to Hell” here Cooper’s character (the ever-present Steven) is awake the whole time and needs simply to apply his wits sufficiently to not sell his soul. Not to worry though, he’s back in 2008 making bad decisions on “Along Came a Spider.”

I don’t typically want to know much about the albums I review, but while looking up some minor detail about “The Last Temptation” I discovered it is also a graphic novel by Neil Gaiman. It shouldn’t influence how I feel about the record, but damn it I love Neil Gaiman, and it makes me enjoy “The Last Temptation” even more.

Best tracks: Lost in America, Stolen Prayer, Unholy War, Lullaby, It’s Me

CD Odyssey Disc 709: Elton John

I have a whole lot on the go tonight (a lot for us ‘no kids’ types, anyway).

I started work early, stayed late and then took a power nap. Now I am writing this review before I finish watching a taping of the Bruins/Canucks hockey game (It is 1-1 after the first. Go Bruins!).

Later my friend is coming over to do a little gaming and then it is a late dinner, a little TV with Sheila and early to bed to do it all over again on Wednesday. Whew!

Disc 709 is…. Caribou

Artist: Elton John

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? This looks like one of those mall photo booths, where they put you up against a fake backdrop and encourage you to pose with a bunch of goofy props. Hey, Elton, just because they provide all those ridiculous clothes and accessories doesn’t mean you have to use them.

What’s that? Those are your regular clothes? Well, alright then…

How I Came To Know It: Just me drilling through the Elton John collection, since Sheila caught my up on him a few years back. This was my most recent purchase, and I’ve probably only had it a year at most.

How It Stacks Up:  We now have seven Elton John albums (as promised when I reviewed “Yellow Brick Road” I have added both “Honky Chateau” and this album to the collection. I would put “Caribou” 4^th, just edging out “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” which has slipped since I reviewed it back at Disc 526.

Rating: 3 stars

Chronologically, I consider “Caribou” Elton John’s last record worth owning, but I still consider it part of his golden age. It is a bit of a mess in places like “Yellow Brick Road” but the fact that Elton wisely keeps his excess down to a single album helps considerably on that front.

The album starts with a bang with “The Bitch is Back” which feels like Elton getting in touch with his not-so-nice self. Here is the Elton of Excess, doing what he wants when he wants, and not caring about the consequences. Hearing “The Bitch is Back” I was not at all surprised to learn that a year later Elton would have a drug overdose. The song feels like a cry for help. An overblown, rude, obnoxious cry for help, but a cry for help nonetheless.

After this the album descends a bit into mediocrity. “Pinky” and “Grimsby” are both meandering affairs that are held up by Elton’s considerable talent on piano. On “Pinky” he layers a rich emotional texture into the song, and on “Grimsby” he delivers a frenetic energy that helps offset the song’s clunky rock guitar. Despite this, both songs felt to me like they were missing the genius of other songs from earlier in his career.

I could say the same about the countrified “Dixie Lily” but I won’t because I have a soft spot for Elton when he gets all honky tonky. He is better at it than most actual country singers, and his ragtime piano made the whole song feel like it was written in 1874 rather than one hundred years later.

Then John is back being weird with the deliberately obtuse “Solar Prestige A Gammon” and the directionless “I’ve Seen the Saucers.” The latter tries to throw minor chords in to create an aura of strangeness, but instead it just pokes a big hole in the melody. Both songs are examples of how you can lose your way when experimenting as often as you make new discoveries.

I love the slow build of “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me” which I recall was one of the first Elton John songs I admitted liking. (Growing up in a heavy metal culture meant you had to automatically dislike Elton John to be cool. How sad and foolish we can be when we’re young).

The song that came out of nowhere to surprise me was “Ticking” – a song abut a supposedly good kid losing his mind; stabbing a waiter and murdering 14 people in a bar before being tragically killed by police. Er…spoiler alert.

The piano in “Ticking” is sublime, racing forward to the song’s inevitable end, tripping over itself as it lurches into despair and madness. Despite being almost eight minutes long, but I never feel like it drags.  The music perfectly captures what it feels like to run downhill, gaining speed until you eventually lose control.

My version of “Caribou” is an extended re-issue, so instead of ending with “Ticking” we get four bonus tracks. That’s a bit disappointing, because “Ticking” would be such a great ending, but the bonus tracks are actually pretty interesting. You get “Pinball Wizard” (the movie version), a couple of B-sides and…”Step Into Christmas.” OK, I take it back – they should have stopped with “Ticking.”

Best tracks: The Bitch is Back, Dixie Lily, Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me, Ticking

CD Odyssey Disc 708: Tom Petty

Welcome to Sunday, gentle readers! Sunday is both the best and worst day of the weekend. It is relaxing and laid back, but at the same time you can feel the start of the work week just around the corner, ready to mess with your mojo. Speaking of mojo…

Disc 708 is…. Mojo

Artist: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? A bunch of words and some “photobooth” style shots of Tom Petty (who has been taken over by a beard in recent years) and the Heartbreakers (who have not).

How I Came To Know It: I am big fan of Tom Petty so I basically buy his albums when they come out. That’s what happened here.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 15 Tom Petty Albums. Of these, “Mojo” is not one of my favourites and I’ll rank it 13^th.

Rating: 3 stars

“Mojo” suffers a little by being sandwiched between two really good Tom Petty albums: 2006’s “Highway Companion” and 2014’s “Hypnotic Eye.” Despite this, I found myself enjoying it more on this listen than I have previously.

The first thing you notice with “Mojo” is how bluesy it is. It is so bluesy that I’ve decided to tag it both rock and blues. It isn’t Howlin’ Wolf or John Lee Hooker or anything, but the influences are obvious from the opening track, “Jefferson Jericho Blues.” Some songs just put the word ‘blues’ in their title but really aren’t blues – this isn’t one of them, and there are plenty more on the album (“Running Man’s Bible,” “Candy,” “US 41,” and others) that also deserve that designation.

The best of these is “Running Man’s Bible” which has that low, gritty sensibility that the blues always seem to have. These are songs that make you feel like getting out of bed at noon and skipping a shower. It is clear that guitarist Mike Campbell relishes playing the blues licks as well, and his guitar is as good on “Mojo” as any of the band’s earlier work.

Petty’s voice has also held up very well over the years; one of the advantages of never being known as a great vocalist to begin with, I suppose. And like other great but vocally limited songwriters (Steve Earle, John Prine, Townes Van Zandt) he knows how to write a song that lands nicely in his wheelhouse.

In addition to bluesy songs, there are atmospheric ballads that paint vibrant pictures of the many characters you might run into out there in the lonely strips of American highway in between cities.

“The Trip to Pirate’s Cove” is a great lowlife road trip track with a dreamy quality that evokes empty stomachs, low gas tanks and cheap motel sex with strangers; in this case the actual maids working there.

There is also plenty of introspection, including the gentle, understated “No Reason to Cry,” and the stark but hopeful “Something Good Coming.”

The up-tempo blues-rock tracks alternate with these more introspective songs. While both are good in their own right, the effect feels like two different albums that have been shuffled together. It doesn’t help that the record is 15 songs long and over 64 minutes, making it hard to get your head around all the music. I would have preferred “Mojo” to have been split into two albums each half the length, and more musically cohesive.

However, if anyone can take a sprawling mess of styles and turn it into a panorama of American life it is Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Listening to “Mojo” again made me realize that I didn’t give it enough time when I first bought it, and I’m resolved to get it into a more regular rotation in future.

Best tracks: Running Man’s Bible, The Trip to Pirate’s Cove, No Reason to Cry, Don’t Pull Me Over, Something Good Coming

CD Odyssey Disc 707: Led Zeppelin

Who’s in the mood for even more seventies rock? Yes, for the second review in a row the Odyssey delivers some good old fashioned rock n’ roll. Here's one a year earlier than the last and a goodly amount better.

Disc 707 is…. Houses of the Holy

Artist: Led Zeppelin

Year of Release: 1973

What’s up with the Cover? This cover is very Lovecraftian. I call it “Father’s Day at Devil Reef.” All that cursed gold doesn’t look like such a good deal now does it, mister?

How I Came To Know It: This is a fairly recent purchase for me as I once again try my hand at loving Led Zeppelin – a band I have always admired but never truly fell for.

How It Stacks Up:  I now have six Led Zeppelin albums, and based on samplings of the ones I’m still missing, I think I’m done.  Of the six, “Houses of the Holy” is not the best, but it is good enough to knock “Led Zeppelin III” down a spot and take 5^th.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

After the raucous rock n’ roll of “IV,” Led Zeppelin returned to the more folksy approach on “Houses of the Holy” that they’d also tried out on “III”. Although this album meanders around a bit, it holds itself together with songs that feel dreamy even when they punch it up a notch. Listening to it, I felt like I was relaxing in a warm bath – or that I had Deep Ones in my family tree. Hopefully the former.

The album is a tasteful eight songs and 40 minutes, which is something modern records should try to stick to more often. I felt I could really sink my teeth into every track without getting bogged down with too many competing sounds.

I enjoyed the gentle strumming pattern of “The Rain Song” at track two, but the first real standout on the album is “Over the Hills and Far Away.” This song  is the perfect blend of Zeppelin’s whimsical folkadelic sound and their heavier guitar riff driven stuff. Jimmy Page’s solo is restrained and perfectly placed and Robert Plant is able to show his ‘hippy lover’ and ‘screeching rock god’ voice all on a single song. This is a song that demands you air guitar, even if you can’t play it for real.

“D’yer Mak’er” is another winner with a playful fifties vibe to the music, and Plant sounding almost coquettish and “The Ocean” is a Zeppelin classic, with a timeless and unforgettable riff - despite  the fact that I can never remember what the song is called.

Other songs, like “No Quarter” is a meandering prog-fest that had me wishing I could instead listen to the better Zeppelin songs of this ilk that appear on “Presence.” Even the aforementioned “Rain Song” suffers from bloating. This also happens to Deep Ones left out in the sun too long, and judging by the album cover it is a sunny day out at Devil Reef. Really not a good day to catch up with any Children of the Sea you've fathered.

But I digress...

The album’s true crime is “The Crunge” which would be more accurately titled “The Cringe” for what it makes me want to do. It feels like Robert Plant is trying to do a cross between Otis Redding and the reprehensible drunk voice that Anthony Michael Hall affects in “Weird Science.” The song ends with Plant ranting about being unable to find the song’s bridge. Uh…you have to write that, Robert, although no bridge could save this directionless and self-satisfied bit of tripe.

Coming immediately after “IV” I was hopeful that “Houses of the Holy” would hold to the same standard, but that was probably too much to ask. Because of the musicianship, and the powerful brilliance of “Over the Hills and Far Away” and “The Ocean” this album easily clears three stars, but I couldn’t in good conscience give it four.

Best tracks: Over the Hills and Far Away, D’yer Mak’er, The Ocean

CD Odyssey Disc 706: Nazareth

Who’s in the mood for some seventies rock? We’re here to help.

Disc 706 is…. Rampant

Artist: Nazareth

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? A whole lot of awesome. It appears that the Field Marshall of Rock is on a resort vacation. He’s got palm trees, pretty ladies and a little hut by the beach to take his mind off all that rock n’ roll he’s been hurling around the battlefields.

Even on vacation the Field Marshall of Rock never completely relaxes. He’s taken his cape off (note it is hanging over his guitar, but he’s still got his military jacket, complete with epaulets and lapels festooned with suns. He has undone the collar, though. After all, it’s hot down here in the tropics, and this is 1974, after all.

There is nothing wrong with this cover, which also features a ridiculously cool lion crest and four coins featuring the band’s heads. Why, you ask? Because nothing exceeds like excess.

How I Came To Know It: When I was a kid, I used to own a 1975 Nazareth greatest hits record. On the inside of the jacket sleeve there were depictions of all the albums that it took songs from and “Rampant” was one. I only recently bought this album on CD, and got to see what all the fuss was about.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Nazareth albums – basically their 3^rd through 6^th studio releases. Of the four, “Rampant” is the weakest – so 4^th. Sorry, Field Marshall of Rock.

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

Way back in March of 2011 at Disc 254 when I reviewed a Greatest Hits package by Nazareth I vowed to resist temptation to go out and buy their studio albums. Instead I did the opposite, giving away the compilation to a friend and delving headlong into their catalogue. Four records in, it was “Rampant” that blunted my enthusiasm.

“Rampant” is not a bad record, and has a solid mid-seventies rock energy about it. Vocalist Dan McCafferty belts out the songs with gusto, in that high raspy screech that is both perfectly of its time yet still unique and instantly recognizable once you know it.

The band is solid and very tight. This is particularly evident on the many bonus live tracks at the end of this special edition version, but more on that later.

The album gets going strong with “Silver Dollar Forger” which has the added bonus of having not been on the Greatest Hits package of my youth, and therefore fairly new to my ears.

“Rampant” also has two of my all-time favourite Nazareth songs, “Shanghai’d in Shanghai” and “Sunshine.” The two songs showcase the band’s musical range.

“Shangai’d in Shanghai” is a bluesy guitar-driven headbanger of a track, with a natural groove that is hard to resist. Lyrically, the song is one step past ridiculous as it conjures up the notion of a band on the road, singing about the KGB tapping your phone , trying to score drugs in a foreign city and opening for the Rolling Stones in Arizona (the latter story being followed up with a cheeky lick from “Satisfaction”). None of that matters; I loved this song as a kid, and nothing has changed. Since I reunited with it in electronic format it rarely if ever leaves my sorry little 400 song MP3 player.

“Sunshine” is the polar opposite. A slow love ballad that is both touching and tough at the same time. The melody of the song is so a part of my DNA after almost 40 years of hearing it, that I often find myself singing along whenever I’m enjoying a bit of sunshine. “Sunshine,” it is easy loving you.

Unfortunately, the rest of the record doesn’t hold up to this standard. The lyrics that stray so close to the edge of goofy on the good songs, trip awkwardly over on most of the others. While well played, the group’s musicianship is wasted on songs that just kind of jolt around with the uninspired feel of a bar band in a small town.

Also annoying, from an original album of eight tracks, the Soulless Record Execs have added another eight to this remaster. This doubling of the album’s length sucks the soul right out of it when you listen clear through.

I’ll admit that it didn’t help that when I uploaded it the song titles were all wrong, but knowing that most tracks were just live BBC versions of songs off of “Razamanaz” (which I also have) wouldn’t have helped. I bought “Rampant” to hear “Rampant” not to hear “Razamanaz” a second time. The fact that the live versions were good (bland and boring voice of the BBC anchor notwithstanding) was a positive, but I’d have happily paid half the price for the disk and skipped the experience.

Because “Rampant” has two of my favourite Nazareth songs there’s little chance I’ll ever part with this album, but beyond that, there’s only one silver dollar and a lot of empty forgeries.

Best tracks: Silver Dollar Forger, Shanghai’d in Shanghai, Sunshine

CD Odyssey Disc 705: The Cult

I’m home from my early shift almost on time today, so I’m going to write this next music review and then take a nap so I can properly enjoy the weekend. I used to say “sleep is for the dead” but now that I’m older I realize that lack of sleep leaves you like the living dead, and that’s no fun either.

Disc 705 is…. Love

Artist: The Cult

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover? Based on this cover, the Cult in question is of the ancient Egyptian variety. Personally, if I was to choose an ancient Egyptian cult, I’m partial to Bast because of my love of cats. Horus is pretty kick ass as well, with the falcon head and that whole righteous vengeance thing.

How I Came To Know It: As I noted back at Disc 606 when I reviewed “Sonic Temple” my friend Cameron introduced me to the Cult back in university and made sure I heard them a lot in his car. This iteration is Sheila’s CD, as she was also a fan of the Cult in the day.

How It Stacks Up:  We’ve got two Cult CDs and I put “Love” second on that list, behind the aforementioned “Sonic Temple”.

Rating: 2 stars

When I reviewed “Sonic Temple” I was pleasantly surprised, so I had high hopes that “Love” would also deliver. Sadly, it was a short–lived honeymoon.

I didn’t hate this album, but it certainly didn’t inspire. Musically, you can tell the band is trying to generate energy on every song, which makes the plodding quality to most of the them even more disappointing. Basically, the bulk of these tracks consist of a single boring guitar riff that is repeated over and over again and never quite resolves itself into something more, but spends way too long trying.

There are exceptions to this rule. Notably the album’s hit “She Sells Sanctuary” holds up very well despite getting badly overplayed in the late eighties. The opening guitar riff is one of the most recognizable in music, capturing the spirit of rock and roll and putting it in some kind of Far East vessel that evokes a sitar without actually playing one. “She Sells Sanctuary” also shows off Ian Astbury’s voice which is kind of a cross between the Doors’ Jim Morrison and the Cure’s Robert Smith. For most of “Love” Astbury sounds like he’s going through the motions of being a rock star, but on “She Sells Sanctuary” he is the real deal.

For deep cuts there isn’t a lot to offer, but the album’s final song “Black Angel” is a standout. It is a bit slower than a lot of the other tracks, and has a nice church dirge quality to it as Astbury sings the tale of a condemned man returning home to face his fate.

It is a shame that the band made these two songs the last two on the album. By the time the time I got there, I was feeling testy and musically neglected by what had come before. “Rain” (track 5) is passable but not enough to hold up the bloated and self-absorbed “Brother Wolf, Sister Moon” or the energetic but directionless “Nirvana.”

For the most part, hearing this record made me want to listen to a Cure album instead, which work the same musical structures but just do it better. That or the Cult’s own later release, “Sonic Temple” by which time they have better mastered the layered grunge production they’re looking for on “Love.”

My recollection of the Cult in the day was that they had a high opinion of themselves. They went out of their way to talk about how they were all about the music, and creating their own sound.  Even the liner notes of this reissue of “Love” are full of grandiose statements to that effect. Astbury is quoted as saying “I’d be walking around with a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt on and being laughed at for being this complete esoteric freak. The media thought I was completely potty – they just didn’t get it.” As though wearing a Hendrix shirt made him the inheritor of Hendrix. Also, Hendrix is hardly esoteric to music lovers, Ian.

The bottom line is that this album falls far short of its lofty ambitions. It lands as an inoffensive, OK rock record with a great single and a deep cut worth a listen. You can get experience with a 45.

Best tracks: Rain, She Sells Sanctuary, Black Angel

CD Odyssey Disc 704: Dropkick Murphys

On my last entry I bemoaned the fortunes of my beloved Boston Bruins, so it is fitting tonight that I review a band that are also huge Bruins fans.

Disc 704 is…. The Gang’s All Here

Artist: Dropkick Murphys

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? Grim-faced U.S. soldiers storm the beach in what is likely a scene from the Second World War. This cover is an awesome ode to the Murphys dedication to the spirit of the regular man (here, the ordinary soldier) rising above and doing his best in the face of terrible odds.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Andrew discovered these guys, and introduced me to them in 2001. I liked their “Sing Loud, Sing Loud” album from that year and so I decided to check out their earlier work. The first step backward led me to “The Gang’s All Here.”

How It Stacks Up:  I have six of the Dropkick Murphys albums eight albums. I’ll get their latest two at some point, I’m sure. Of those I have, I’ll put “The Gang’s All Here” in third place.

Rating: 4 stars

The Dropkick Murphys are the perfect blend of Celtic folk music and punk rock, and “The Gang’s All Here” is the beginning of their signature sound.

Sure their debut was two years earlier, with 1997’s “Do or Die”, but this is before the band added vocalist Al Barr. “Do or Die” is OK but it is still too rough around the edges for me. “The Gang’s All Here” is also very rough around the edges – delightfully so – but there is just the right amount of melodic Celtic elements to make everything come together.

In fact, although I stacked this album up as third best, it is really the equal of the two that followed. If anything it is more ferocious than any of the others. Then why did I put those two above it? Partly sentimental reasons, I suppose, which I’ll discuss when I roll them. Maybe I’ll change my mind by then, since it could be years away. But I digress…

Back to “The Gang’s All Year” which has the frenetic energy of a true punk record, particularly on guitar mashing tracks like “Blood and Whiskey” and “Pipebomb on Lansdowne.” The Murphys put these songs right at the front of the record, making it clear how they want to be known.

But they also want to be known for their Celtic roots, and on songs like “Boston Asphalt” and “Devil’s Brigade” they mix in a sonic wall of drum and thrash punk guitar with traditional melodies, mostly carried by the vocal gifts of Barr.

Barr is uniquely able to sound angry and musical at the same time, and had me wishing more punk bands had vocalists like him at their head. His versatility allows the Murphys to work in ballad elements, as they do on “10 Years of Service,” “Curse of a Fallen Soul,” and “Upstarts and Broken Hearts”.

It also allows them to pull off actual traditional songs. On “The Gang’s All Here” they do two: a passable version of “The Fighting 69^th” and a punked out “Amazing Grace.” The latter has the best blend of rock guitar and bagpipes you’ll ever hear. The Murphys at this point don’t have a permanent pipe player (they would add one a year later) and “Amazing Grace” is a nice teaser for the fun that will come on future records.

The album exceeds the bounds of good taste with 16 tracks, but keeps everything at around 40 minutes (punk doesn’t waste time getting through a song) so on balance I’m willing to let it go.

Thematically, these songs are a strong match to the music. They are about regular working class men putting in an honest day, and speaking out loud and long against anyone they see as doing otherwise. The Murphys deliver this message without irony, subtlety or apology.

Earlier today I was describing my family history to a coworker. I noted my Dad had been a millworker, and so had my stepdad. My grandpa on one side had been a millworker and the grandpa on the other had immigrated from Italy, leaving his life behind to become…a millworker.

It isn’t a particularly glamorous pedigree, but “The Gang’s All Here” reminds me that there is more nobility in it than I tend to give it credit. That blue collar work ethic and the blunt honesty that comes with it has served me well over the years. I love that the Dropkick Murphys have so fittingly given it a voice.

Best tracks: Blood and Whiskey, 10 Years of Service, Upstarts and Broken Hearts, Devil’s Brigade, Curse of a Fallen Soul, Wheel of Misfortune, Amazing Grace

CD Odyssey Disc 703: Sarah McLachlan

I was feeling a bit listless when I got home, further fuelled by watching yet another Boston Bruins loss before writing this review.

Fortunately, my Amazon order arrived! I don’t use Amazon as a rule, preferring the local record store hunt, but after I give it a good effort (at least a year) then I’ll break down and order music online. So look for reviews for the following seven albums (on 5 CDs) in coming months and years:

• Eric B . & Rakim – “Let the Rhythm Hit ‘Em”
• Budgie – “Impeckable”
• Olympic Runners – “Put the Music Where Your Mouth Is” and “Out in Front”
• Nick Gilder – “City Nights” and “Frequency”
• Bonnie Tyler – “Faster than the Speed of Night”

Yes, those last two artists are guilty pleasures. I regret nothing.

Disc 703 is…. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

Artist: Sarah McLachlan

Year of Release: 1993

What’s up with the Cover? Sarah, getting all heartfelt and emotive. You can tell because she has her hand placed artfully over her breast. Then again, she could just be having a heart attack. That theory goes better with the pained expression on her face.

How I Came To Know It: I was a Sarah McLachlan fan from her previous album, “Solace” (reviewed way back at Disc 249). So when this album came out, I just bought it on spec.

How It Stacks Up:  We have five Sarah McLachlan albums. “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” is pretty much in a dead heat with “Surfacing” for second. However, since I believe in taking a stand on such matters I’ll put “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” slightly out in front, but still second to “Solace.”

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

On “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” Sarah McLachlan finally achieved the blend of sounds I think she was looking for on previous efforts; an ambient combination of folk, pop, jazz and just a hint of soul. As a side benefit, it also put her on the pop music map – at least in Canada (the United States wouldn’t catch on until 1997’s “Surfacing”).

There is a sacrifice in combining so many different sounds, and the record doesn’t have the same stark and desolate power that “Solace” manages. That said it is plenty stark and desolate.

This is fuelled in part by McLachlan’s haunting voice. She sounds like an opera singer who is asleep and dreaming of being a folk singer. The power and precision is there, but the words spill out in big breathy phrases, like someone talking in their sleep. I love the effect of it all, and McLachlan knows how to infuse a melancholia that makes you feel like you’re hearing the songs float across to you in the night.

On “Elsewhere” where McLachlan sings “reaching out/reaching in” it feels like the breath of a dream, pulling you in to a land where you’re no longer certain of your bearings, or whether you even want to be.

“The opening track, “Possession” wades with you into “a sea of waking dreams”, which may not be the most original lyric, but works in the context of the song. What also works is the insistent neediness of the song. Here and throughout the album we are warned that while love can inspire, it can also drive us to the brink of madness.

In recent years it has become strangely popular to hate on Sarah McLachlan. For some, what seemed powerfully emotional then reflects back across the years as overwrought. I don’t see it that way; I think this album is well crafted, and the emotional core of it has held up strong.

This is despite some questionable percussion decisions here and there. “Circle” has a very annoying drum machine beat and on more than one occasion I swear I heard unwelcome bongos. Hippy buskers take note; bongos are rarely welcome.

There are also jazz elements in the songs, trying to resolve the melodies in creative ways that sometimes take their sweet time doing so. I’m not a fan of jazz, but the use of it is well timed and restrained on the record. I have to reluctantly admit that they make the songs better.

This album has a couple of Creative Maelstrom pet peeves. The song lyrics are included in the liner notes but they are presented in ‘messy handwriting’ font. If you’re including the lyrics, then you presumably want me to read them. Please make it easy to do so. It is a very nineties art design decision, and it has not aged well.

Also, the final track is actually two tracks, the second of which is a hidden “piano only” version of “Possession.” I really like having the alternate version, but I’d prefer it as its own track. The surprise of the bonus track on the first listen quickly wears off and leaves me wishing it stood on its own.

The song the piano “Possession” is paired with (possessed by?) is the title track, which would have benefited from the same stripped down production. It has some weird Sade-like beats that take away from the simple and poignant beauty of Sarah laying herself bare with a chorus of “if I shed a tear I won’t cage it/I won’t fear love.”

Part of me would like to hear all the songs produced more simply, but if you took all the organ and guitar and backbeat out of these songs you’d risk also stripping out their energy.

For an album with such a dreamlike and diffuse quality, the energy on “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” is exceptional. If there is an occasional stumble, it is always a graceful one; soon resolved into part of the overall dance.

Best tracks: Possession, Good Enough, Mary, Elsewhere, Hold On

CD Odyssey Disc 702: Scorpions

This next review is an example of how sometimes I think I’m done an artist in the Odyssey, only to find myself inspired to buy another album.

Disc 702 is…. Crazy World

Artist: Scorpions

Year of Release: 1990

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a key for the door to some parallel universe. We know this because the door is slightly ajar on the right hand side and we can see it does not simply open to more scrub plain. The parallel universe that is slightly revealed looks pretty ordinary but I assume it’s as crazy as ours, given the title. Or maybe the universe where doors stand in the middle of the plain and serve as portals to somewhere else in the crazy world we’re already in. But I digress…

How I Came To Know It: I knew this album when it came out, but only bought it recently.

How It Stacks Up:  I now have three Scorpions albums. Of the three, “Crazy World” must fall to the bottom of the list. Since this is the last review of the three, here’s a summary of how I feel about all the Scorpions in my collection:

1. Blackout:  4 stars (reviewed at Disc 290)
2. Love at First Sting:  2 stars (reviewed at Disc 309)
3. Crazy World:  2 stars (reviewed right here)

Rating: 2 stars

This album is bittersweet for me. I bought it to be reminded of a great time in world history, but recent events make it harder to appreciate it the way I once did.

I am a child of the Cold War, and most of my teenage years were spent with the ever-present danger of World War III, Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) and assorted other nuclear terrors. In 1984, Iron Maiden even did a song called “2 Minutes to Midnite” which was a reference to the proximity of the Doomsday Clock to Armageddon.

So it was a special day for me in 1989 when I turned on the news one morning to see ordinary people clambering around on the Berlin Wall, tearing it down. I had never lived a day in my life without that ever-present symbol of war and here I was witnessing it, being destroyed by people who had simply had enough of living in a world divided.

I remember crying tears inspired partly by my fellow man’s ability to forgive and move forward as well as a fair bit of plain old relief. I settled down on the couch – skipping all my classes to just watch that God-damned hateful wall get dismantled, one tiny piece of concrete at a time.

The Scorpions are a German band, and so they had lived with the Berlin Wall in a much more visceral and real way than I ever had. In 1990 they released “Crazy World” with an anthem to commemorate the reunification of their long-divided country.

That anthem – “Wind of Change” – is why I own this album. For some, I’m sure this metal ballad is hokey, with its overwrought whistling intro and its candle waving chorus. I admire its sense of open wonderment that maybe the whole terrible Cold War was really ending. This song perfectly captures a moment in time when we all felt safe to dream about a better world again. As Klaus Meine sings it:

“The world is closing in

Did you ever think

That we could be so close, like brothers

The future’s in the air

I can feel it everywhere

Blowing with the wind of change.”

For us iconoclastic metal-heads, who had been weaned on a cynical embrace of death and war, it was an odd shift. Five years earlier, Iron Maiden had sung about the doomsday clock hands threatening doom. Three years earlier Megadeth had asked “Peace sells…but who’s buying?” Now we were now being told by one of our earliest metal legends to take a chance on optimism. It was a weird and welcome moment.

The rest of “Crazy World” is fairly forgettable – if inoffensive – eighties metal fare. At times it is even a little offensive – like the Frampton guitar effects on “Money and Fame” which sits very out of place on the album overall. Other than that, the guitar riffs are strong, but at times feels derivative of better albums that came before, like Iron Maiden’s “Powerslave” or Judas Priest’s “Defenders of the Faith.”

As a Scorpion’s album it certainly doesn’t hold up to the masterpiece that is “Blackout” and it falls short even of the merely OK “Love at First Sting.” Still, it matters to me. It shows that metal music can be hopeful and triumphant when it wants to be. This is something all metal fans have always known, but with “Wind of Change” the rest of the world got to see it too.

In fact, the second best song on this album is “Don’t Believe Her” which could easily be made into a pop hit if it had been produced with a bit more sweetness.

But as you’ll recall, I promised bittersweet. Given the trouble raging again in Eastern Europe it is hard to feel the same optimism I felt about this song even as recently as two years ago. Earlier this year the Doomsday clock ticked its way all the way forward to 1984 levels, and uncertainty again rules the future. Much as I love “Wind of Change,” it is getting hard to whistle along that close to our collective graveyard.

On this last listen, the song had me welling up for a very different reason. There’s no Berlin Wall to track our progress this time and those distant memories that Klaus promised us would be buried in our past forever are coming rushing back.

But then I reminded myself that the history of the human race is a river, not a series of arbitrary plot points on some clock. I listened to the chorus of “Wind of Change” with fresh ears:

“Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams

With you and me

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow dream away

In the wind of change.”

And I realized that while I draw breath, I’m still the children of tomorrow. We’re still here despite the odds twenty-five years ago. And even when I’ve blown my last breath, there’ll be another generation of children waiting to share the next magic moment like the one I experienced watching the wall collapse.

And “Crazy World” may be an average album, but it is never leaving my collection. Not as long as I can still dream away in the wind of change.

Best tracks: Don’t Believe Her, Wind of Change