Tag Archives: Rock

The Zombies: The BBC Radio Sessions

Zombies_TheBBCRadioSessionsExpanded re-reissue of the Zombies live on the BBC 1965-68

Varese’s 43-track, 2-CD set expands on their earlier double-LP with five previously unreleased tracks. This augments material that’s been reissued in numerous configurations, including Rhino’s landmark Live on the BBC, and Big Beat’s Zombie Heaven and Live at the BBC. This is now a one-stop shop for the biggest helping yet of the recordings the Zombies made for the BBC. Included are live versions of the group’s three early hits, “She’s Not There,” “Tell Her No” and “She’s Coming Home,” along with other much beloved originals, “Whenever You’re Ready,” “If It Don’t Work Out” and “Friends of Mine,” and a slew of covers. Notably missing is a full take of “Time of the Season” (though it’s heard as background to the last interview segment), as its success postdates these BBC sessions.

The origin of these recordings (and similar catalogs for other British Invasion bands) lays in limits placed on the BBC’s use of commercially released records. To supplement their programming, musical artists were recorded in the BBC’s own studios, the recordings pressed to transcription discs, and the discs circulated to affiliates for broadcast. With the BBC failing to archive these works, it’s transcriptions of found copies that form the core of this set, supplemented by off-air recordings of material for which transcriptions haven’t yet surfaced. The quality varies, and while none match the productions of the group’s formal releases, they’re all quite listenable. The live energy and deep reach of the cover selections are essential additions to the group’s small catalog of commercially released work.

What’s immediately noticeable is how unique the Zombies sounded, even among the British Invasion’s explosion of creativity. Colin Blunstone’s voice gave the group an easily recognized front, Rod Argent’s keyboards added distinctive flair, and the group’s melodic sense was like nothing else on the radio. The tracks include several cover songs the group never released commercially, and multiple versions of “Tell Her No,” “Just a Little Bit,” “Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” “You Must Believe Me” and “This Old Heart of Mine.” Variations from the commonly circulated commercial masters – such as an acoustic piano on the February 1965 version of “Tell Her No” – are especially interesting in how they influence the tone of the performances.

Announcer introductions and interview clips give a feel for how the musical tracks played in context, and reveal interesting personal details about the band, their travels and their unrealized plans for the future. Even more revealing are Andrew Sandoval’s liner and track notes, which provide detailed information about the sessions, the radio shows on which the tracks were featured, and the sources of the often obscure cover songs. Matching the session notes to the discs is a bit tricky, as the notes run chronologically, and the tracks do not. The addition of six previously unreleased recordings (disc 1, 23-25 and disc 2, 7-9; five songs and an expanded interview with Colin Blunstone) make this the most complete set of the group’s BBC recordings yet. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

The Zombies’ Homepage

The Rave-Ups: Town + Country

RaveUps_TownAndCountryOverdue reissue of country-punk-rock ‘n’ roll shoulda-beens

Originally from Pittsburgh, this hyphenate country-punk-rock ‘n’ roll band regrouped and restaffed a few times before making their mark in the clubs of Los Angeles. This 1985 full-length debut was a college radio hit, and led to a high profile appearance in the film Pretty in Pink (but not, alas, on the soundtrack album), and a deal with Epic. Their major label debut, The Book of Your Regrets, failed to capitalize on the band’s momentum, and after an uptick with their third album, Chance, the band was dropped, and broke up a few month later. But not before providing TV’s David Silver the soundtrack for his contest-winning dance moves on the Spring Dance episode of Beverly Hills 90210.

The band’s Epic albums were previously reissued as a two-fer, but their debut EP and album for the Fun Stuff label have remained maddeningly out of print. Until now. The vault door has finally swung wide open, providing not only the album’s original ten tracks, but eleven bonuses that include live radio performances and material produced by Steve Berlin and Mark Linett for a scrapped second album. Over 78 minutes of vintage Rave Ups that sounds as vital today as it did thirty (30!) years ago. Stephen Barncard’s production has none of the big studio sounds that have prematurely aged so many mid-80s records, and the band’s timeless rock ‘n’ roll foundation was cannily woven with potent threads of country, punk and blues.

“Positively Lost Me” opens the album with a memorable rhythm guitar lick and the boastful kiss-off “you lost a lot when you lost me.” The bravado appears to crack as the forfeiture is inventoried in a pedestrian list of ephemera (“six paperback books and a dying tree”), but it’s a setup, as the real price is lost confidence and broken trust. Singer-songwriter Jimmer Podrasky was full of great lyrics and catchy vocal hooks, and the band stretched themselves to find deep pockets for his songs. There’s a punk rock edge to the square-dance call “Remember (Newman’s Lovesong)” and the Beach Boys pastiche “In My Gremlin,” and an improbable demo of “If I Had a Hammer” is cannily wed to a La Bamba beat.

The Dylanish “Class Tramp” (which is about breeding rather than schooling) is complemented by a cover of Dylan’s “You Ain’t Going Nowhere,” and the album closes on a rockabilly note with “Rave-Up/Shut-Up.” The bonuses include radio performances of “Positively Lost Me” and Merle Travis’ rewrite of Charlie Bowman’s “Nine Pound Hammer,” early versions of songs that turned up as B-sides and later LPs, and several titles that never turned up again. There’s some excellent material here, but the album, recorded in stolen moments in A&M’s studios, is the fully polished gem. The Rave-Ups deserved more success than fickle industry winds blew their way, but at least Omnivore’s reissue blows this terrific debut back into print. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Jimmer Podrasky’s Home Page

Eric Carmen: Eric Carmen

EricCarmen_EricCarmenCarmen’s only solo album of the 1980s, reissued with bonuses

For those who grew up with the transcendent guitar-pop that Eric Carmen made with the Raspberries in the 1970s, this 1984 solo album may be a bit of a surprise. The transition from power pop to power ballads was seeded on his earlier Arista solo albums, but this Bob Gaudio-produced set dials down the charging guitars in favor of keyboards, strings and slick studio drums. Carmen was still singing beautifully and writing catchy songs, but Gaudio draped them in sounds that have become dated. Whether that’s good or bad probably depends on how much you like the commercial sounds of the ‘80s, and whether you’re looking to spark a nostalgic memory.

“You Took Me All the Way” reaches back to the Raspberries’ “Go All the Way,” but its guitar is undercut by the modern rock production. “Maybe My Baby” opens with a great a cappella passage, but the synths sap the song’s charms. Only “As American as Apple Pie” provides the unalloyed guitar rock Carmen had wanted to deliver in the first place. The latter was produced by Don Gehman after Carmen and Gaudio fell out over the album’s direction. Carmen’s one and only album for Geffen spun off the hit “I Want to Hear It From Your Lips” and the lesser-charting followup, “I’m Through With Love,” both of which also found success on the adult contemporary chart.

Varese’s reissue, the first in more than twenty years, includes full-panel cover art and lengthy liner notes by Larry Watts that detail Carmen’s history before and after the Raspberries. Sure to find favor with fans are the bonus tracks that include the single mix and the Jellybean Benitez remixed 12” of “I Want to Hear It From Your Lips.” Carmen would strike chart gold with 1987’s “Hungry Eyes” and 1988’s “Make Me Lose Control,” but wouldn’t drop another full album until 1997’s Winter Dreams (and its 2000 reissue I Was Born To Love You). This 1984 tug-of-war with Bob Gaudio has many charms, and its reissue will be welcomed by Carmen’s fans. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Eric Carmen’s Home Page

The Traveling Wilburys: Collection

TravelingWilburys_CollectionStandard, deluxe and vinyl re-reissues of the Wilburys catalog

Originally released in 2007, this 2 CD + 1 DVD set collects together the Wilbury’s two original albums, a quartet of bonus tracks, a 25-minute documentary, “The True History of the Traveling Wilburys,” and all five of the group’s music videos. It’s a testament to Rolling Stone’s assessment that the Wilbury’s were “one of the few rock supergroups actually deserving to be called either super or a group.” The group’s debut, Volume 1, shot up the charts to #3 in 1988, while the follow-up (which was recorded after Roy “Lefty Wilbury” Orbison’s passing), just missed the Top 10 two years later. With the original albums having gone out of print in 1995, the pent-up demand sent the original 2007 issue of this set to the top of the UK charts and into the U.S. Top 10.

From the group’s start, George Harrison was the ringleader, with close connections to Orbison, Dylan, Petty and Lynne. And it was Harrison’s need for a B-side that sparked the group’s genesis. But when the initial results proved too good for a B-side, and the time together proved so enjoyable, the quintet went back into the studio (actually Dave Stewart’s home studio) to fill out an album. The results had an off-the-cuff aliveness that exemplified music made by musicians who were friends first, and the singles, “Handle With Care,” the track originally intended as a B-side, and “End of the Line,” both rose to #2 on Billboard’s mainstream rock chart. Together with “Last Night” and “Heading for the Light,” the album spawned a quartet of Top 10 hits.

The group’s second album, humorously titled Volume 3, was recorded in 1990. Though not as surprising as the debut, and with Orbison’s passing having changed the group balance, the album still resounds with the informal chemistry of friends who also happen to be top-flight music pros. The singles “She’s My Baby,” “Inside Out” and “Wilbury Twist” all charted mainstream rock, and the album went platinum (though not the triple platinum of the debut) in the U.S. It was to be the last group Wilbury outing, though Harrison would use the Wilbury name for a producer’s credit on a 1992 live album. With Harrison’s passing in 2001, any hopes of a Wilburys tour was dashed, and it was another six years until official reissues of the two albums were released by Rhino.

The initial 2007 issue of this set came in four flavors, and the 2016 reissues replicate the standard, deluxe, vinyl and digital (standard and deluxe) editions. The standard CD+DVD edition comes in a four-panel digipack with a 16-page booklet that includes Mo Ostin’s 2007 liner notes, original album liner notes by Hugh Jampton (a/k/a Michael Palin) and Professor “Tiny” Hampton (a/k/a Eric Idle), album credits, and pictorial instructions for dancing the Wilbury Twist. The deluxe CD+DVD edition adds a linen-cloth slipcase, a 40-page booklet, souvenir postcards, photocards and a sticker, as well as a numbered letter of authenticity. The vinyl edition necessarily drops the video content, but adds a third LP of bonus tracks. The digital editions match the discs, and differ from one another by the inclusion of the video elements in the deluxe edition.

All of the reissue editions include the same bonus tracks as the 2007 CDs: the previously unreleased “Maxine” and “Like a Ship,” the benefit album title song “Nobody’s Child” and a remixed B-side cover of Del Shannon’s “Runaway.” The vinyl edition, as in 2007, adds extended versions of “Handle With Care” and “End of the Line,” and the remixed version of “Not Alone Anymore.” You can scare up the extended versions on CD singles if you search, but they would have made a nice addition to complete the digital re-reissues. But that’s a nit, the music is terrific and the DVD showcases, in Tom Petty’s words, “a bunch of friends that just happened to be really good at making music.” If you didn’t pick this up in 2007, you now have a second chance! [©2016 Hyperbolium]

The Traveling Wilburys’ Home Page

The Bangles: Ladies and Gentlemen… The Bangles!

Bangles_LadiesAndGentlemenTheBangsThe Bangles’ Rosetta stone is their fans’ holy grail

For anyone who latched onto the Bangles before their major label makeover on Columbia, the first half of this CD remains the band’s Rosetta stone. Though hits and international fame would come later, the eight tracks released in 1981-2 remain the group’s purest statement of their 60s-tinged harmony rock. They never wrote, played or sang with more elan, and the youthful effervescence of this early work is as compelling today as it was thirty-five years ago. The group first appeared on vinyl as The Bangs with the fan club single “Getting Out of Hand” b/w “Call On Me.” Its local circulation left most listeners to meet the band, renamed as The Bangles, on the compilation Rodney on the ROQ, Vol. III, and then retroactively track down the single’s more widely circulated reissue.

In 1982, amid the the Salvation Army’s self-titled debut, Green on Red’s debut EP, the Dream Syndicate’s Days of Wine and Roses, the Three O’Clock’s Baroque Hoedown, and the Rain Parade’s first single, there was the Bangles’ self-titled five song EP on Faulty. The EP’s four original songs were the perfect lead-in to a scorching cover of the La De Da’s “How is the Air Up There?” Though reissued by IRS, the EP was mostly lost to fans the band picked up with their major label debut, All Over the Place, and even more so in the full rush of fame brought by Different Light. Bits and pieces of the EP reappeared as B-sides and on compilations, but the full EP remained unreissued until this collection was released as MP3s in 2014. Now on CD, the EP can be heard without compression.

Filling out this disc are four full-fidelity demos, a pair of 1984 live tracks, and a commercial for No Magazine. The demos include early takes of “Call On Me” and “The Real World,” a harmony-rich cover of the Turtles’ “Outside Chance” and a tough take on Paul Revere and the Raiders’ “Steppin’ Out.” The live cuts are “Tell Me” (from All Over the Place), and a cover of Love’s “7 & 7 Is.” The disc closes with 1982’s “The Rock & Roll Alternative Program Theme Song,” a tune the group recorded for George Gimarc’s pioneering radio show. The only thing missing is the promo-only 12” remix of “The Real World,” but that’s a nit. This is the holy grail for Bangles fans, especially those who never completely cottoned to the commercial polish of their Columbia years. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

The Bangles’ Home Page

Jimbo Mathus: Band of Storms

JimboMathus_BandOfStormsFunky southern odds ‘n’ sods

Mathus has suggested that this twenty-three minute, nine-song EP, gathers errata from his brain; and given the stylistic diversity – Stones-ish rock, second-line stomp, Cash-styled country, garage punk, dark blues and string-backed hollers – he seems to be right. He caroms from style to style, but it’s held together with a soulful looseness that makes the uptempo numbers celebratory and the darker songs more leer than threat. Well, except for the tortured murder ballad “Stop Your Crying,” which is plenty threatening. “Massive Confusion” sounds like Springsteen busting out someone’s well-loved ‘60s B-side, yet it’s a fantastic original, and “Wayward Wind” suggests what Tom Waits might have sounded like had he woken up on the other side of Nashville’s tracks. Mathus is an expressive singer, letting his voice run freely to its edges and pulling back for the confessional “Slow Down Sun.” Several songs fade early, with the cork stuffed in the production bottle as soon as the lightning was captured. The brevity crystallizes the moments of inspiration, but also omits the usual musical resolutions. The songs aren’t as riddled with Southern talismen as earlier releases, but the closing “Catahoula” leaves no mistaking Mathus’ origins. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Jimbo Mathus’ Home Page

Charlie Faye & The Fayettes: Charlie Faye & The Fayettes

CharlieFayeAndTheFayettes_STAustin singer-songwriter dives into early ‘60s girl-group sound

If the 1960s Playtone label wasn’t a fictional construct of That Thing You Do, the label’s A&R rep would surely have signed Charlie Faye. Her spin on soul-tinged girl-group pop echoes the pastiches of Diane Dane and the Chantrellines, and in turn tips a hat to the sources from which the film drew. Faye’s soulful roots can be heard in 2013’s You Were Fine, You Weren’t Even Lonely, but the complicated, contemporary posture of that outing is shed as she and the Fayettes explore the romantic travails of the early ‘60s. Faye’s traded her solo spotlight and singer-songwriter stool for vintage party dresses and harmony singers.

A New York native, there’s Bacharach-like sophistication in the melody of “Carelessly,” but her adopted Austin surfaces in the twang of “Loving Names.” The soul sound moves further south with the fluid bass line and Memphis-styled guitar of “Sweet Little Messages.” Faye’s songs are filled with the sort of elemental heartbreak that made the Brill Building famous and its songs so memorable. On the surface, this might seem pedestrian compared to the complex emotions of You Were Fine, but writing 100 universally affecting words is often more difficult than writing 1,000 that are more specific and personal.

Faye’s struck a rich vein of new love, broken hearts and second chances – the sort whose first discovery feels like the end of the world, and whose repetition turns out to be the harder lesson. “Coming Round the Bend” borrows the signature riff and optimistic flash of “Then He Kissed Me,” and the bouncy “Delayed Reaction” nods to Jackie DeShannon’s “Breakaway.” The album stretches beyond the coy boundaries of ‘60s girl groups with the opener “Green Light,” and though “Eastside” could usher dancers down a Soul Train line, its Stax-styled groove and horn chart service a serious look at social gentrification.

Faye’s previous albums didn’t exactly draw a line to this retro set, but the surprise is more in the landing spot than the journey. Faye’s repeatedly proved herself an adventurous artist who is committed to her muse. Her 2009 debut, Wilson Street, honored the Austin community into which she’d knit herself, and 2011’s Travels With Charlie was recorded over ten months of collaboration with artists in ten different cities. She follows her artistic desire, and when that led to the girl-group sound, she banded together with BettySoo and Akina Adderley, wrote a terrific batch of 60s-tinged originals, drew up some choreography, and dove in head first. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Charlie Faye and the Fayettes’ Home Page

Escondido: Walking With a Stranger

Escondido_WalkingWIthAStrangerSophomore album trades desert spaces for studio layers

The lonely trumpet that opens Escondido’s second album suggests another round of Lee Hazlewood-Ennio Morricone mashups. But the sparse, DIY live sound of their debut has given way to heavier, more studied productions here, and though vocalist Jessica Maros can still strike a mood of detachment, she’s pushed by the music to a fiercer emotion. Think of Debbie Harry fighting her way out of a momentary lapse into ennui rather than Hope Sandoval getting lost in it. The opening “Footprints” includes chanting that echoes the tribal weight of Adam & The Ants, and the album’s first single, “Heart is Black,” is as insinuous as the addictions it essays.

This is a decidedly more modern album than 2013’s The Ghost of Escondido, but the trade from desert spaces to studio layers hasn’t sacrificed the duo’s mystery, nor obscured the power of their duet singing. The twanging riff and ghostly vocalization that introduce “Idiot” set up a kiss-off whose lack of anger adds to the sting. Maros and her multi-instrumentalist partner Tyler James manage to make music that’s fragile and strong and disaffected and focused all at once. Maros can say she’s over it, but the melody says otherwise, and James’ subtle (and not so subtle) touches of keyboards and trumpets point in both directions.

The album’s title is taken from the song “Apartment,” recognizing the estrangement that can grow alongside familiarity. It’s that sort of duality that colors the album’s betrayal and recriminations, and the music’s intensity draws from the conflict. The grounding in 90’s alt-rock gives the album muscle, but the duo’s country and western (as opposed to Country & Western) roots carry the songs to an original place. Fans of Mazzy Star will be hooked, as they were for the debut, but just as quickly find themselves transported byond. Maros and James each bring something unique to their pairing, and paired, they’re mesmerizing. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Escondido’s Home Page

Chris Robley: The Great Make Believer

ChrisRobley_TheGreatMakeBelieverHanging on to hanging on

Whatever else he’s done, Chris Robley’s bi-coastal habitation of Portland, Oregon and Portland, Maine positions him as the answer to a singer-songwriter trivia question. It’s the sort of poetic, yet easily consumed detail that also threads through his songwriting. And though his poetry is filled with imagery and symbolism, his lyrics follow more traditional narratives, albeit with the observational details and sensitivity of a poet. Robley’s sixth album was written and recorded amid major life changes – including divorce, relocation and romantic renewal – and though the songs aren’t directly autobiographical, it’s easy to spot a very real path of anxiety, confusion, sadness, depression, weariness, relief and rebirth, sewn together by hints of optimism and a helping of catharsis.

Perhaps the most important musical change from previous releases is Robley’s choice to relinquish most of the instrumental duties to bandmates. Where his earlier albums had been insular, overdubbed studio productions, his latest relies not only on other players, but the dynamism of live recording and the shucking of orchestration and production tricks. Though much of the album draws its melodic tint from Robley’s long-time pop inspirations (i.e., the Beatles), several of the songs are stripped to country-tinged basics, with Paul Brainard’s steel and Bob Dunham’s guitar given prominent placement. Their twang pushes Robley to preach on “Lonely People” and underlines the sort of introspective reflections you’d rather not have staring back at you from the mirror.

The album opens with “Eden,” a moment of renewal spurred by the realization that mistakes are the fuel of improvement. The story then rewinds to follow the path of destruction that led to understanding. The betrayals are largely passive, with relationships quietly abandoned and allowed to disintegrate; but the wrong-doings nag the conscience and provoke the sleepless nights of “Evangeline.” The seemingly cheery recovery of “Lonely People” is turned back by self-doubt and apologies geared more to the sender than the recipient. “Silently” closes the album with the no-fault observation that even the brightest fires expire silently. The song’s old-timey vocal and kazoo solo are nice touches, and just two of the album’s many charms. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Chris Robley’s Home Page