Part four of the TVD Record Store Club’s look at the new and reissued releases presently in stores for April, 2018. Part one is here, part two is here, and part three is here.
NEW RELEASE PICKS: V/A, ACLU Benefit Compilation (Wharf Cat) As the annual RSD blitz nears, it’s important to keep things in context. That limited color vinyl 45 is cool, but the time in which we are living is, in numerous ways, quite uncool. Vital in the fight against fascism, racism, sexism, etc. has been the American Civil Liberties Union, and this 2LP is designed to aid them in continuing their heroic efforts. Featuring 22 tracks from a lineup including The Men, Alice Cohen, Palberta, Pop 1280, Merchandise, Profligate, and an outstanding piece for solo sax by Kate Mohanty (fittingly titled “Priorities”), the gist is contempo underground focused but with plenty of variety to be had. If you’re at all inclined to the scene, please make some idealistic young lawyers happy for the future of the planet. A-
Lloyd Green & Jay Dee Maness, Journey to the Beginning: A Steel Guitar Tribute to the Byrds (Coastal Bend Music) Folks who are understandably bonkers for Sweetheart of the Rodeo will likely know that Green and Maness contributed pedal steel to that album, the former an established Nashville scene guy and the latter a younger but studio-seasoned cat from L.A. For the album’s 50th birthday, the pair have gotten together to cut an instrumental tribute, and it’s a beauty. Rhythm, mandolin, and occasional fiddle adds richness in support, but it’s always Green and Maness’ show, and they hold the spotlight with grace and an obvious affection for the project. For the close, Jim Lauderdale, Herb Pedersen, Richie Furay, and Jeff Hanna deliver a swell vocal version of “You Ain’t Going Nowhere.” A-
REISSUE/ARCHIVAL PICKS: The Mekons, “Never Been in a Riot” & “Where Were You?” (Superior Viaduct) I’ve observed before that if, at this late date, you really want to find a punk record that matches the frequently lofted genre descriptors of “barely competent” or “attitude over technique,” then head straight for the 3-song ’78 debut by The Mekons, a disc that seems constantly on the verge of falling apart, at least until they arrive at the urban tribal chant of “Heart and Soul.” But it’s not an accident, it’s a conscious approach, and that’s part of what’s so thrilling. Now, if you want to hear growth from this foundation that doesn’t result in or even predict a betrayal of principles, and adds a violin for good measure, then that’s “Where Were You?” Two of the best punk-era singles ever waxed. A/ A
Willie Colón, Wanted by the FBI for the Big Break – La Gran Fuga (Get on Down) Colón’s reputation as one of the greats in the field of salsa is fully deserved. On this ’70 album, the trombonist-bandleader’s sixth for Fania (the label’s name a mark of quality), and with the crucial input of singer Héctor Lavoe, Colón does much to advance the style beyond its root as a dance-party music. Primarily through changes of tempo and tone, but also in the employment of space, this broadening is perceptible even to a casual salsa listener such as myself. Along with dual ‘bones in the lineup and Lavoe leading the vocal charge, rhythm is still king, but the bongos, congas, and timbales are handled with flair that transcends the maintenance of groove. The personal standout element is the piano of “Professor Joe” Torres. A
Blue Öyster Cult, Rarities Vol. 2 (Real Gone) It’s the early BÖC that mostly floats my boat, but that’s an era covered in depth by Vol. 1, which came out last autumn in an edition of 1,000. This (presumably) final volume (of 1,400) corrals demos, outtakes and concert material from ’75-’88, starting out strong with a live “Stairway to the Stars” and following it with worthwhile demos of “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” and “Dance the Night Away.” If you recognize those, it might be because they were added to the 2001 CD of Agents of Fortune (this also grabs the extras from the CD reish of Spectres, including a leftfield Ronettes cover). Plusses: a mono live “Godzilla” and covers of The Who and The Beatles. Altogether, this is a surprisingly non-painful listen, though iffy bits (and Stephen King) do emerge. B
Buffalo Tom, “The Only Living Boy in New York” b/w “The Seeker” (Schoolkids) As I’ve reported a while back in this column, I was quite fond of early Buffalo Tom (“Sunflower Suit” is a classic), though I lost track of them when they began sanding down the rough edges of their sound. And so, I approached this new 45 with hopeful caution, as the A-side offers a cover of a tune I like from a songwriter (that’d be Rhyming Simon) that I’m generally (shockingly to some) indifferent to. Well, they don’t ruin it, and I respect that they went for mainstream bigness rather than intensified fragility, which would’ve been the clichéd (more specifically, stereotypically indie) maneuver. By a wide margin, I prefer the flip’s dig into the oft-covered ’70 single by The Who, in part due to the turned-up amps. B
Richard Lloyd, The Radiant Monkey (Schoolkids) & Lodestones (ORG Music) Accompanying these limited vinyl pressings is the observation that guitarist Lloyd’s solo work has been overlooked. Television is a band that I’ve long loved, but of Lloyd’s own stuff I was previously unfamiliar with anything beyond ’87’s Real Time; and so, regarding neglect I’m guilty as charged. 2007’s The Radiant Monkey sounds hardly at all like TV, and especially not in its opener (that’d be “Monkey”), a track which strikes me as terrible, but then matters rebound somewhat, with Billy Ficca guesting on highlight “Kalpa Tree.” A tendency to Rawk drags it down, a negative that’s diminished on 2010’s formerly digital-only Lodestones. Of its guitar-poppier cuts, it’s the Dylan/Lou vibe of “King of Fools” that I dig most. B-/ B+
The Lurkers, Fulham Fallout (Beggars Arkive) Formed in Fulham, West London in ’76, The Lurkers don’t get enough credit. One of the bands from the early days of the Roxy Club (but not included on the indispensable The Roxy London WC2 comp), they were notably the first group on Beggars Banquet. Often synopsized as the Brit ’77 answer to The Ramones, the similarity is clear, but they were more than mere copyists (“Then I Kicked Her” shows the influence runs deep); if you dig Raw Records and somehow haven’t been hipped to these guys here’s your chance to get up to snuff. The Lurkers’ true forte was singles, but some of those doozies are included here (amidst a little filler), and if the chorus to “Shadow” doesn’t get you singing along, perhaps you should question if punk rock’s really your bag. A-
Lyrics Born, Later that Day (Real People) The recording career of Tsutomu “Tom” Shimura aka Lyrics Born stretches back (at least) to a cameo on Blackalicious’ ’94 “Melodica,” where he, then known as Asia Born, appeared with Lateef the Truthspeaker (his future partner in the duo Latyrx) on the track “Deep in the Jungle.” Along with Blackalicious and DJ Shadow, he shaped the Solesides / Quannum collective, but really broke out with this 2003 full-length solo debut, and I’m happy to report that it holds right the fuck up. Playfully funky (natch, since Germany’s Poets of Rhythm are involved) and at times legitimately funny (especially “Cold Call”), the secret to this nearly hour-long release is breadth combined with a constant give and take between complexity, layering, depth, and unabashed accessibility. A-
Melvins, Pinkus Abortion Technician (Ipecac) While dependably recognizable, the Melvins like to throw curveballs, so adding Butthole Surfer Jeff Pinkus to the band for an 8-song CD is an unexpected twist in line with their general MO. Here, Pinkus flanks Steven McDonald (a co-founder of Redd Kross who also plays in OFF!) in a dual bass lineup that leans toward the aura of studio casualness, in large part due to the prevalence of cover material; things open with a medley of the James Gang’s “Stop” and the Butthole’s “Moving to Florida” that’s enjoyable but no brain-fry. Their take on “I Want to Hold Your Hand” is a ripsnorting blast, however. A distinctive dig into the Butthole’s “Graveyard” closes things out, and the general okayness of the originals makes this more than a one-off supergroup footnote. B+
The Rascals, The Complete Singles A’s & B’s (Real Gone) Time has largely boiled down their existence to a few of their biggest hits, but The Rascals were a highly prolific act, a reality served up nicely by these eight long-playing sides. Four LPs might read like an intense scenario (and it is accurately described as an investment), but that’s largely due to format: this release’s first incarnation was on 2CD, which is likely an easier pill to swallow. For me, The Rascals’ best stuff came early, when the soul-tinged R&R often possessed a touch of garage and vocalist Felix Cavaliere belted like Mitch Ryder. After the bolder commercial gestures and crooning that came in the wake of their early success, they offered some middling pop-soul and a less successful gospel tendency, but a few unexpected twists do arise. B
Redd Kross, Third Eye (ORG Music) I’m on record as not being fond of Redd Kross’ ’90s releases, a run which commenced in the dawn of the decade with Third Eye, but I’m truthfully more receptive to this album now than at any prior point of engagement, in large part due to the numerous ways it extends (self-consciously so) the familiarity of a scrappy power-pop band getting a crack at making a “big time” record. “1976” (which isn’t a bad little tune) aside, Third Eye’s not as ’70s nostalgia-damaged as one might assume/ remember. Instead, they occasionally flirt with a (basically contemporaneous) glam-metal sensibility to surprising results, e.g. the blend of Chilton-esque balladry and the Sunset Strip in “I Don’t Know How to be Your Friend.” A few tunes are still resistant to positive reassessment, however. B
Sun Ra, Standards (ORG Music) Jazz big-band leadership remains Sun Ra’s posthumous calling card, but other facets have slowly asserted themselves, e.g. the vocal group-R&B oriented material heard on Singles, and the deftness of solo mode (e.g. Solo Piano, Vol. 1, overdue for reissue). Also, his embodiment of tradition rather than launching from it (as is intrinsic to the Arkestra); the tidy Standards, which came out on CD in ’01 (this is its vinyl debut) illustrates this splendidly. “Can This Be Love?” reaches back to Chicago ’55 with just bassist Wilber Ware accompanying and the rest are ’62-’63 recordings made at the Choreographer’s Workshop in NYC with Arkestra regulars John Gilmore, bassist Ronnie Boykins, drummer Clifford Jarvis, and trumpeter Walter Miller. It’s a swinging treat. A-
V/A, The Other Side of Sun (Part 2) – Sun Records Curated by Record Store Day, Volume 5 (ORG Music) Those looking for rockabilly vault nuggets will be disappointed, but if they’re also fans of ’60s Soul-R&B, the initial letdown could undergo a quick turnaround. In ’69, Shelby Singleton, then owner-operator of the SSS International label, bought Sun from Sam Phillips; the songs included on this volume derive largely from Singleton’s numerous labels. The Soul-R&B exudes an appealing Southern verve (see Big John Hamilton’s “How Much Can a Man Take”), but there’s also some stylistic range, including the uptown bluesy Johnny Adams and a handful of rock-inclined numbers including garage toughs The Jesters and the young Eric Burdon meets Cali jangle pop vibe of The United Notions. Sweet stuff. A-
Marty Wilson-Piper, Spirit Level (Schoolkids) As guitarist for Aussie’s The Church, Marty Wilson-Piper has had considerable success, but his solo recordings, of which there are a few, haven’t struck as deep a chord. This ’92 set was his fourth, initially issued only on CD by Rykodisc, and I’ll confess that it slipped right by me, likely because I was only a moderate fan of The Church’s stuff. Had I stumbled onto it however, I would’ve found much of it to my liking, though in terms of production (by Wilson-Piper and his regular associate Andy Dare Wilson) there is some holdover ’80s ambiance. As the songs, which are less neo-psych than one might expect, consistently cut mustard (and display a decided literary influence/ ambition), that’s okay. The rocking “Luscious Ghost” is a standout. B+
Yung Wu, (Bar/None) The scoop here is that circa 1987, Feelies percussionist Dave Weckerman drafted his bandmates for a side-project in which he fronted the band and wrote all the originals (there are covers of the Stones’ “Child of the Moon,” Neil Young’s “Powderfinger” and the Eno-sung “Big Day” from Phil Manzanera’s Diamond Head). Cut at Water Music studios in Hoboken and first issued by Coyote, it’s getting a vinyl repress for Record Store Day and making its debut on CD and digital. Does it sound like The Feelies? Well, yeah. But different. Even the songs that radiate an immediate connection, like the excellent “Spinning,” take on a distinct feel due to Weckerman’s heightened input. Vinyl comes with a flexi of the man’s rare 1980 single, which features an early version of this LP’s title track. A-
