Monthly Archives: February 2010

Derek Hoke: Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll

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Sweet, optimistic country with pop, folk and blues shades

Georgia-born Derek Hoke opens his debut with the album’s bold title declaration: Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll. It’s an immensely catchy song whose pedal steel and thumping honky-tonk beat underline the bittersweet lament of a man who must bid adieu to his first love. Hoke declares his never-ending affection for rock ‘n’ roll even as he falls further into the embrace of country music. He’s confused and heartsick, but like the fatalism of film noir, he can’t fight the impulse to turn down the amps and turn up the twang. He walks away from the big guitars and screaming audiences with sweet sorrow in his heart.

Hoke styles himself a country artist, but there are rich threads of pop, folk and blues to be found in his music. The vibraphone chime of “Hot on the Heels of Love” lay behind a melody that’s equal parts Buddy Holly and early Beatles, and the whistled solo adds to a satisfied, easy-going early-60s mood. Hoke is a pop omnivore who smoothly combines Lyle Lovett’s ambling swing, Marshall Crenshaw’s earnest pop, Dr. John’s rolling funk and Hank Williams’ twang. Mike Daly’s steel nods to Williams’ legendary sideman Don Helms, and Chris Donohue’s double bass add supper-club bottom end to several songs.

At first these seem to be songs of romantic distress, but Hoke’s an optimist who dispels dark clouds with a never-ending view towards the sunny side. The frazzled morning-after of “Rain Rain Rain,” delayed infatuation of “I Think I Really Love You” and unrequited longing of “Still Waiting” are voiced as hope and opportunity rather than defeat, and even the straying lover of “Not Too Late” is given one more chance. Hoke sings of small pleasures (“The Finer Things”) and traipses through a litany of Southern terms of affection (“Sweat Pea,” with Jen Duke singing Loretta Lynn to Hoke’s George Jones) as his songs swing through buoyant rockabilly, acoustic blues and twangy country.

Hoke has steeped in the music of his youth, but also that of his parents’ and grandparents’. His period influences are worn cleverly in guitar strums, bass thumps, vocal harmonies and steel bends, interweaving periods and styles rather than blocking out pieces from whole cloth. His farewell to rock ‘n’ roll takes him back to a time when American music’s roots were still tangled in the same plot of mountain soil. This is a charming record that plays like a vintage radio station hopping from one thing you love to another, alighting long enough to set your toe tapping. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll
Buy Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll on Bandcamp
Derek Hoke’s MySpace Page

Here’s the video for “Where’d You Sleep Last Night?”

The Rubinoos: Hodge Podge

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Souvenir compilation from Rubinoos’ 2009 tour of Spain

This collection was issued for the Rubinoos 2009 tour of Spain and pulls tracks of recent vintage, including selections from 2006’s Twist Pop Sin and 2007’s Japan-only One Two That’s It. A trio of cover outtakes from 2003’s Crimes Against Music (Bacharach & David’s “Little Red Book,” Tommy Roe’s “Dizzy” and The Monkees’ “Valleri”) make their domestic debut, and a quartet of outtakes from 1998’s Kevin Gilbert-produced Paleophonic are issued for the first time. These latter four are real treats, highlighted by the broken hearted “Everybody’s Got Somebody But Me” and the Everly’s-styled ballad “Home to You” (which was previously recorded by the Rubin-less Vox Pop in 1998). Additional gems include a cover of the Hollies’ “Bus Stop” that opens with Jon Rubin accompanied nearly a cappella by lush harmonies, hand drums and a triangle, and a gutsy production of the Raspberries’ “Cruisin’ Music” that one-ups the original’s thin sound. The 1984 basement production of “Two of Us” has a fetching DIY quality that captures the Rubinoos channeling the Paley Brothers. If you missed the group’s recent records, this is a good sampler, and if you’re a Rubinoos fanatic, the outtakes are must-haves. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

The Rubinoos’ Home Page
Rubinoos CDs at Pop Plus One

The Plimsouls: Live! Beg, Borrow & Steal

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L.A. rock ‘n’ roll at the height of its 1981 power

Alive Records seems to be on a mission to get all of Peter Case’s early material into circulation. They issued the first official CD of the Nerves EP (with bonus tracks!), a live Nerves LP, Case’s post-Nerves hook-up with Paul Collins in the Breakaways, and now this supercharged live show by the Plimsouls. Already one of L.A.’s most potent rock ‘n’ roll bands, the Plimsouls hit a sixth gear when they played live. Fans have previously enjoyed another live set on One Night in America, and though the audio seems slightly more compressed on this October 1981 recording, the performance is a few degrees hotter. Peter Case sings with a ragged, full-throated soulfulness that’s urged along by Dave Pahoa and Lou Ramierez’s rhythms and goosed by Eddie Munoz’s electric guitar riffs.

The Plimsouls were a non-stop live act. They launch from the gates at full-speed with “Hush Hush” and never let the pedal up from the floor. “Lost Time” assembles itself from stabbing rhythm guitar riffs, rumbling bass and propulsive drums, and “Women” teases with a moment of confidentiality before roaring down the strip with all cylinders firing. Plimsouls originals “A Million Miles Away” and “Everyday Things” get an extra measure of passion on stage, and when the band kicks into their encore covers of the Kinks’ “Come on Now” and Gary “U.S.” Bonds’ “New Orleans” (with the Fleshtones sitting in on the latter) it’s as if they’re offering their souls on the altar rock ‘n’ roll. Their cover of Thee Midniters’ “Jump, Jive & Harmonize” is missing the signature organ whine, but Case sounds absolutely possessed throughout this and the rest of the set.

Power pop fans treasure the Plimsouls’ studio recordings, but their live set proves them one of the era’s top rock ‘n’ roll bands. When they get deep into the groove it feels as if Peter Case is doing all he can to stay on top of this hard-charging band. Nearly thirty years later this set still commands you get up and move around – the Plimsouls’ powers transcend time and space. Less than half the titles here, recorded at the Whisky A Go Go, overlap with One Night in America, and the inclusion of “Lost Time,” “Women,” “Zero Hour,” “I Want You Back,” and “Everyday Things” makes this disc an essential for fans. Alive’s packaging includes a six-panel insert with terrific period photos (including the stellar color cover shot). Now if only they could get 1981’s The Plimsouls back in print! [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Zero Hour
The Plimsouls’ MySpace Page
Hidden Love Medical Relief Fund for Peter Case (backstory here)

Here they are two years earlier:

Sandy Hurvitz: Sandy’s Album is Here at Last

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19-year-old Zappa protégé’s 1969 debut

Essra Mohawk, while then still performing under her birth name of Sandy Hurvitz, released this album in 1969 for Frank Zappa’s Bizarre Productions. Zappa quickly handed production over to fellow-Mother of Invention Ian Underwood, who seemingly had no talent for or interest in producing the album. The sound quality is that of demo tracks, which gives this a sense of performance innocence but obscures Hurvitz’s lyrics. There are instrumental cameos by saxophonist Jim Pepper and Jeremy Steig, and Hurvitz is accompanied by bass and drums on a few tracks, but mostly Underwood leaves her to wander around original compositions with only her piano.

Once you adjust to the poor production quality you’ll find Hurvitz expresses herself flowingly, like a meandering version of Laura Nyro or a less pointed variation of the young Janice Ian; she sings and plays as if the songs were extemporaneous. There’s clearly talent here, and Mohawk would go on to a successful career as a singer and songwriter (she’d  already written the haunting waltz “I’ll Never Learn” for the Shangri-Las), but the seeds of that success were obscured by Zappa’s hostile indifference and Underwood’s lack of production chops. Collectors’ Choice’s domestic reissue adds the bonus track “Life is Scarlet,” whose lyrics were printed on the original album’s back cover, but whose music was omitted from the record. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Essra Mohawk’s Home Page
Essra Mohawk’s MySpace Page

Alice Cooper: DaDa

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Alice Cooper’s last album for Warner Brothers

By 1983 Alice Cooper had fallen back off the wagon and was recording albums that he’d later claim he couldn’t remember. 1981’s Special Forces had brought him back to a stripped-down rock ‘n’ roll sound that recalled his earlier peaks, and 1982’s Zipper Catches Skin retained the same direction while sounding more labored. 1983’s DaDa, his last album for Warner Brothers (and his last album before a three-year hiatus) reunited him with Bob Ezrin, who’d produced Cooper in his glory years. The album opens promisingly with the menacing “Da,” a looming synthesizer instrumental punctured by thumps of percussion and a spooky doll’s voice. The spoken word lyrics sound as if they’re snippets of confessional dialog lifted from a 1940s psychological thriller.

The doll’s eerie “da-da” vocalizations point to the album’s family themes, with a teenage son calling out his abusive father on “Enough’s Enough,” and the family’s dark human secret essayed in “Former Lee Warmer.” There’s a not-quite-heartwarming story of a shopping mall Santa, the Devo-esque dizziness of “Dyslexia,” and the over-the-top patriotism of “I Love America.” Whatever else Alice Cooper was doing (or drinking) his sense of humor never left him. On the darker theatrical side are the dominatrix sister duo and middle-eastern flourishes of “Scarlet and Sheba,” the vampire horror of “Fresh Blood,” and the alcoholic nightmare “Pass the Gun Around” that closes a chapter in Cooper’s career. Collectors’ Choice’s domestic reissue includes a four-panel booklet that features new liner notes by Gene Sculatti, but no bonus tracks. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Alice Cooper: Zipper Catches Skin

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Alice Cooper sounding a bit labored in 1982

A year after the stripped-down attack of Special Forces, Alice Cooper produced another album in the same vein; though this time with added theatrical flair and the return of guitarist Dick Wagner. Cooper continued to assume new identities, such as the famed swordsman of “Zorro’s Ascent” and the put-upon son of “Make That Money (Scrooge’s Song).” Some of the performances seem labored, and Wagner’s distinctive guitar riffs feel as if they were grafted onto the songs to add flash. The stagey ballad “I Am the Future” might have worked well as a production number, but with Cooper descending back into alcohol addiction there was no tour. What works well is Cooper’s humor on “No Baloney Homosapiens,” “I Like Girls” and “Remarkably Insincere.” And on “Tag, You’re It” he indulges his longtime love of cheesy cinema with a song full of slasher-film clichés. If there was no 1970s legacy with which to compare this, one might stumble upon this and think it’s a long-lost power-pop album from a surprisingly talented lyricist. It’s all quite listenable, and even fun as it passes by, but it’s not nearly as memorable as his earlier (and some of his later) works. Collectors’ Choice’s domestic reissue adds the UK-only 1982 single “For Britain Only,” and its four-panel booklet includes new liner notes by Gene Sculatti. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Alice Cooper: Special Forces

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Alice Cooper stripped of his late-70s bombast

Nearly a decade after the original Alice Cooper band broke through with School’s Out, and five years after the solo Alice Cooper re-emerged with Welcome to My Nightmare and Alice Cooper Goes to Hell some retooling was in order. Cooper’s albums of the late 70s had become bombastic, and his 1980 release Flush the Fashion mistakenly embraced a modern-rock sound that failed him. By 1981 he was ready to recapture his earlier glory. Gone were the new wave synthesizers brought by Roy Thomas Baker and back were guitar, bass and drums to give punch to Cooper’s tough singing. What synths remain were slithering and insinuating, or in the case of those which introduce “Seven and Seven Is,” quickly pushed aside by slashing rhythm guitars. Covering this Love song was a canny tip of the hat to punk-rock’s mid-60s garage-rock roots.

This isn’t a full one-eighty from Flush the Fashion, but in the punk rock movement Cooper had clearly found kindred confrontational spirits. His then-current preoccupation with military and police matters provides the album’s major lyrical strand, though it’s set to the sort of clever wordplay that had made his earlier hits and stage show so alluring. The accoutrements of power and forces – guns, ammo, holsters – are dressed-up in suggestive sexual double-entendres that leave their meaning to the listener’s imagination. Cooper revisits “Generation Landslide” (from 1973’s Billion Dollar Babies) without the finesse of the original, and at times, such as on “Don’t Talk Old to Me,” Cooper sounds like a ranting alcoholic, which was apparently a real-life role into which he was about to lapse. Cooper’s secondary fascination with horror films is highlighted in the ornate “Skeletons in the Closet,” on which trades the raw rock ‘n’ roll for synthesizers and spooky imagery.

None of this content generated a social shock or commercial reaction in 1981, but either did it sound out of time. The staccato rhythm of “You’re a Movie” may be tied to the new wave sounds of early MTV, but there’s enough muscle in the band’s playing to keep this from being completely dated. Collectors’ Choice’s domestic CD reissue adds “Look at You Over There, Ripping the Sawdust From My Teddybear,” a song Cooper trimmed from the original vinyl release. Its electric piano and funky rhythm do indeed sound out of context, but it fits lyrically and fans will be happy to get this extra period track. The disc is delivered in a standard jewel case with a four panel insert that includes new liner notes by Gene Sculatti. This isn’t Alice Cooper at his pinnacle, but neither is it the sound of a one-time enfant terrible simply hanging on. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

The Rubinoos: Biff-Boff-Boing!

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Kid-friendly album from the kings of power-pop harmony

Though it’s been five years since the Rubinoos released their last album of new material, Twist Pop Sin, they’ve been busy boys (and girl). Tours of Japan and Spain were accompanied by odds ‘n’ sods collections (One Two That’s It and HodgePodge) and their seminal Beserkley recordings finally received the attention they deserved with the 3-CD Everything You Always Wanted to Know About the Rubinoos. They played a pair of headline gigs at San Francisco’s Great American Music Hall in 2007 and 2008 that showed their vocal and instrumental chops were as sharp (if not sharper) than ever. Founding members Jon Rubin and Tommy Dunbar are joined by long-time bassist and vocalist Al Chan, keyboardist/vocalist Suzy Davis and drummer David Rokeach.

The Rubinoos’ latest album, ostensibly a kid-friendly all-ages collection, includes several favorites from their live set, a few novelty covers, and newly penned songs that will enchant both small fry and parent-mocking ‘tweens. Best of all the Rubinoos’ great singing and playing won’t bludgeon parents into a musical coma when commanded to “play it again!” Tracking through the album you’ll realize the group didn’t have to change course to craft an album pleasing to kids – something that’s farily obvious when you go back and listen to their 1977 cover of “I Think We’re Alone Now.” Their bright pop harmonies – enhanced by doo-wop vocal arrangements Rubin and Dunbar bring from their work with the Mighty Echoes – are pleasing to ears both young and old.

The album opens, as has their live set recently, with a cover of Alvin & The Chipmunks’ “Witch Doctor,” and their covers of the Marathons’ “Peanut Butter” and Eternals’ “Rockin’ in the Jungle” (the latter complete with funny animal imitations) honor the originals with their vocal finesse. Jon Rubin’s voice retains the sweetness of his early years, and he slings out these songs with every bit of the enthusiasm of a twenty-year-old who can’t believe he gets to do this for a living. Tommy Dunbar’s songs also retain the charms of youth, with “Dumb it Down” mining the Jackson Five groove heard in several earlier Rubinoos tunes, and a new version of “Mothers Always Know” remembering teenage life under a parent’s roof.

‘Tweens will love the sarcasm of “Have a Cow” and goofy planetism of “Earth Number One,” while parents will enjoy Suzy Davis’ theatrical rendition of the Who’s “Boris the Spider.” The latter plays well on stage, as does the album’s closing cover of the Archies’ “Sugar Sugar.” The Rubinoos once played agent provocateur with “Sugar Sugar” at Bill Graham’s Winterland, and enchanted fans with an extended jam at London’s Hammersmith Odeon; tightened up to three-minutes the song proves itself the enduring national anthem of the bubblegum world. And nearly forty years after their debut (Bay High Hop, December 1970), the Rubinoos endure as power pop champions, ready and able to rock the next generation of music fans. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Dumb it Down (Clip)
MP3 | Peanut Butter (Clip)
MP3 | Mothers Always Know (Clip)
The Rubinoos’ Home Page
The Rubinoos’ MySpace Page

Harlem Parlour Music Club: Salt of the Earth

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New York City collective’s sophisticated roots music

The fifteen-strong membership of the Harlem Parlour Music Club seems to be more a collective than a group. Their eleven-track debut album includes songs from half the members as songwriters, and half the members contribute vocals. The group’s rootsy music would have once been quite at home downtown in Greenwich Village, but they’re an uptown aggregation who recorded these tracks in a Harlem townhouse. The combination of top-notch talent and informal studio sessions gives this debut a nice balance of heart and polish. There’s a professional air to the playing, but also the ease of a living room jam. The group’s New York roots and Appalachian aspirations provide a similar balance between big city sophistication and rural roots. Elaine Caswell’s “Snakeskin,” for example, sounds like something a post-Brill Building Carole King might have recorded outside the city, and the group’s cover of Sly & The Family Stone’s “Thank You (Fallettin Me Be Mice Elf Again)” is both soulful and rustic as the vocal chorus sings against twangy strings. There are tight harmonies, British-tinged folk melodies, lonesome fiddles, gospel glories and train rhythms, but with so many participants this is more of a songwriter’s round than a cohesive band session. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Dyin’ to Be Born Again
Harlem Parlour Music Club’s MySpace Page

Bruce Eaton: Radio City 33-1/3

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Superb accounting of Big Star and their second album

While the title suggests this book focuses directly on Big Star’s second album, and though most of its pages do, author Bruce Eaton also provides context with a compelling look at the band and its members. Most importantly, his fresh interview with Alex Chilton provides flavor from one of the band’s visionary singer-songwriters, which is something that eluded Rob Jovanovic in Big Star: The Short Life, Painful Death, and Unexpected Resurrection of the Kings of Power Pop. Eaton recounts familiar elements of the Big Star story, but couched in their studio work, they reveal new angles. His research into the recording sessions for Radio City turns up new detail on the monophonic sound of “Oh My Soul,” and offers a clear explanation of the Dolby Fuckers sessions that resulted in “Mod Lang” and “She’s a Mover.”

By the time you’re finished reading, you’ll be surprised with how holistic and organic Radio City sounds, in light of the ad hoc circumstances under which much of it was recorded. Eaton’s song-by-song notes are best read with the album playing, the better to hear the many subtleties he highlights. Ideally you should have the original album, the 2-CD Thank You Friends and the box set Keep an Eye on the Sky to cover all of the versions Eaton discusses. The book’s only real disappointment is the paucity of lyrical analysis – though there are a few enlightening revelations. No doubt Chilton’s dismissal of the words, which in his mind were slapped together without a great deal of craft, left Eaton without a living source of comment.

It’s a shame that Chris Bell didn’t survive to participate in this book, or to be the centerpiece of a companion volume on #1 Record. It’s clear from Eaton’s account that Bell’s vision for the band, which Chilton didn’t fully dismantle until Big Star Third, had significant impact even after his departure. The small form of the 33-1/3 books is cute, but the copy needs better editing and the photos need to be reproduced larger and more clearly. These complaints are minor points though, given the quality of Eaton’s research and writing. His recounting of playing with Chilton is a nice personal touch and caps a terrific read for Big Star fans. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]