Positively Main Street

Rip It Up, Issue 14, 1 August 1978, Page 12

Positively Main Street

Bob Dylan Street Legal CBS A notable American magazine recently published an essay on the politics of fame. Its author discussed the inadequate machinery the modern world has for disposing of its celebrity overstayers. Amongst those he supposed the public to feel uneasy over, the name Bob Dylan was prominent. Dylan, I’m sure won’t lose any sleep over the comment, but it does illustrate that blended with other of his talents, Dylan has a genius for remaining contentious. The man has to be a P.R. wonder who, sixteen years and some twenty albums after his first record contract, can still arouse anticipation over a new release. The ‘has - he - still - got - what - it - takes' speculation surrounding all he attempts is an ironic headstart many of. his contemporaries must envy. After the recent world tour of which we were privileged to catch a segment, appetites were particularly whetted for the recording which has taken the title Street Legal. Dylan has worked of late at assembling and maintaining a regular band. The advantages were manifest at his concert here. The combination he brought were a rehearsed, talented and dynamic unit. Musicians like

Steve Douglas, rock and roll sax-man from way back, Bobbye Hall who is an extraordinary percussionist, gave more zest to the performance than most of us had dared hope for. Street Legal uses the basis of the band which came to N.Z. Hall, Douglas, David Mansfield, Steven Soles and Dylan’s three lady back-up singers, being of particular value. Theirs is a major contribution towards the sound of the album. The months spent together re-arranging old songs, rehearsing and touring have paid dividends. The first impression of Street Legal, before any evaluation of Dylan’s new songs, is of the coherent, simple, yet inventive nature of the arrangements. To my mind Street Legal far outshines the rather rambling Desire in this respect, and may even have the edge on portions of Blood on the Tracks where backings do not always match song quality. The songs to which this treatment is given on Street Legal need more cautious appraisal. Dylan himself, in an interview given in Australia, maintains that his style has established boundaries for itself over the years. Asked about where his work might move in the future he replied that it is in “the same old place it’s always been ... It won't get any more complicated or simple than it is.” This

does not mean that Dylan has exhausted himself of new ideas or of his experimental urge, but suggests that he will continue to utilise the same raw materials. Street Legal is a record which illustrates the point. It is, in several ways, a catalogue of Bob Dylan’s song writing characteristics, the good and the bad. Unfortunately there are no songs to lyrically match the best he has done in the 70s no “Tangled Up In Blue's’’ or “Idiot Winds” none to match the sophisticated love songs on under-rated Planet Waves. Dylan does nevertheless produce effective images. “Baby Stop Crying", opens with the brief statement: You've been down to the bottom with a bad man babe But you're back to where you belong. Simple it is, yet with an underlying strong melody, it's the sort of song that in the good old days might have become a soul standard. A gutsy sax break and the girly back-ups contribute to the impression. The winners on Street Legal are all similarly direct. “True Love Tends to Forget” and “We Better Talk This Over" are more genuinely pop songs than any since “Knocking on Heaven’s Door”. In them rests the strength of the release. I am less taken with the one or two numbers which are residue from surrealist - mystic - mumbojumbo days. In my humble opinion Dylan has always worn the garb of a good songwriter more comfortably than the robes of a latter day Ezekiel. The one opus on Street Legal, a thing by the name of "No Time to Think”, wanders through vaguely metaphysical metaphors for eight minutes, stopping in the middle of each verse for a random sequence of abstract nouns. It sits uncomfortably with the rest of the material. However, these are small gripes for I'm easily won over to an album which sounds so good. Douglas's understated saxophone style, a lovely mid sixties organ sound, soul backing vocals of such things enjoyable records are made. Despite our cynical essayist, I’m happy to see Bob Dylan around a while yet.

Bruce Belsham

Magazine

Real Life

Virgin Records Magazine is a five piece British band lead by a young Mancunian (native of Manchester, twit!) named Howard Devoto. He is arrogant, reclusive, even slightly paranoid. He also exudes a personal magnetism exceeded only by the likes of Bowie. To top it all, he sings like he could spit in your face, writes songs that grip you by the throat, fronts a screaming bitch of a band, and has produced a debut platter that has to stand alongside the first Roxy Music album as a milestone in British rock. Elvis Costello doesn’t have the patent on Uneasy Listening. Devoto will have you nervously glancing over your shoulder. "Shot by Both Sides" already has classic status, with a hookline that sticks like a leech and the band playing with the impact of a knife to the jugular. This, and one of the album’s other strongest numbers, “The Light Pours Out of Me", was co-written with Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks, with whom Devoto sang for a short time. Lyrically, Devoto seems determined to remain an enigma. Although only in his twenties he seems already to have been through

his private hell. He had his scars, but he is not about to bare them. He acknowledges debts to Roxy Music and Cockney Rebel, but fulfills promises made and not kept by both. At the same time Devoto makes some promises of his own which hold out well for the future. Let’s hope he can sustain this initial creative burst. Real Life will not make you smile or dance. It will simply stun you. Duncan Campbell

Cheap Trick In Color Epic In Color is Cheap Trick’s second album, released in most other parts of the Western World some time in 1977. The first album is still currently unavailable and there’s now a third in existence so we’ll keep our fingers crossed. In fact we ought to keep everything crossed that’s crossable because this is an extra-good elpee and we need more of the same. Cheap Trick are one of the finest American bands extant. They carry the banner so courageously waved in the last few years by bands like the brilliant Big Star, Blue Ash and other commercially unsuccessful outfits who put a lot of stock in good writing and vocals,

aggressive and inventive playing, and 100% magnetic hooks. For some reason they just don’t play a lot of that stuff on the radio in this merry old decade. But you should buy this record ’cause Cheap Trick have got it all, the complete rock/pop band. Hints of The Beatles can be detected but they’re used to the very best effect, and who better to hint at anyway. And what do they look like? . . . well, there’s a couple of yer standard rockstar pin-ups and a couple of nutters. They’ve got it all covered. Terence Hogan

Gerry Rafferty City to City United Artists With this album Gerry Rafferty’s name is becoming big enough to send people out scouring bargain bins for his earlier work, and while City to City is a considerable distance from the first recordings, elements of his Scottish folk background are still retained in the sound. All to the good. The use of, say, fiddle or accordion as lead instrument is symptomatic of the album’s engaging freshness. The arrangements, for example, though straightforward, are imaginative in their simplicity: from the churning ‘train-song’ har-

monica on the title track to pure vocal harmonies and discreet moog on "Whatever’s Written In Your Heart”. The lyrics are tempered by a tough realism but, although Rafferty has a clean, clear voice, his words tend to be subsumed by the lovely melodies. Side One alone contains four sure-fire hit singles; Side Two is almost as good. My one complaint is that the album’s production tends to blend all instruments into one smooth texture. To this listener at least, a clearer contrast of tone and timbre would have afforded more enjoyment. As it is the tracks somewhat suffer from overall ‘sameness’. But, gripes aside, it's a fine set which ably maintains the standard of the single. City to City is worth the fare. Peter Thomson

801 801 Live Polydor Any Citizen Band devotees in the audience will have noticed that they do funny things to “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks. This record is of interest to those who might like to be able to shout out witty things while they are playing it. Note for note, their version ap-

pears on Side Two of 801 Live. Aside from that I guess this record will appeal to everybody, and perhaps nobody very much. Those who count themselves Phil Manzanera fans will probably prefer the unadulterated thing on his solo and studio albums, those who are Enophiles will tend to stick to his records, which leaves this one somewhat in limbo. It serves as an adequate introduction to the work of the two it even contains what might be called their respective ‘greatest hits’, “Diamond Head" and “Baby’s On Fire”. At the same time, it is hardly a collaborative effort, featuring only one track credited to the two of them, and it does neither of them full justice. With the age of most of the material, and the two covers (the Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows” is the other) those wanting to ascertain what the two of them are really all about would be better advised to check their individual outputs. Francis Stark

Iggy Pop and James Williamson Kill City Radar Iggy Pop TV Eye RCA

Contrary to popular opinion Iggy’s long awaited Kill City is not a collection of outtakes culled from the Raw Power sessions, but a 1975 Williamson arranged bid by Iggy to get back into the world after heavy emotional problems. Williamson has finally managed to unleash the album via Bomp’s Greg Shaw.

If you’re expecting Kill City to be the son of Raw Power then forget it as it is easily Iggy’s most conventional and mellow proposition ever. But it’s great, especially smooth-honed tightly structured classic Flamin’ Groovies/ Stones rock ’n’ roll of the first side. Even if he has nicked Dylan’s intro to "Knocking on Heaven’s Door” on "I Got Nothin’ ”. “Sell Your Love” borders on the unbelievable, a superbly sensitive melody complemented by some great sax lines from John Harden. Side Two is less impressive mainly because the closing track, “Master

Charge” seems little more than a lengthy instrumental filler, but the vintage rock formula-feel of “Consolation Prizes” and the harmonica spun "Lucky Monkeys” more than compensates. In many ways Kill City can be seen as a bridge between his Raw Power days and his present Idiot/Life phase. But whatever way you want to look at it, what you have here is a damned fine album.

On the other hand we have TV Eye, the story of a good album that should have been great. The first ever legitimate live Iggy recording and he bows out of the spontaneous audience baiting that made the second side of Metallic KO such a great performance. In fact there is no evidence of his renowned cut and thrust at all on TV Eye. Taken from three spearate concerts with the Sales brothers as his rhythm section and

Bowie, Scott Thurston, Ricky Gardiner and Stacey Heydon sharing credits, Iggy seems to have been after the perfect live sound to the detriment of the feel of an on-the-spot adrenalin-rushing atmosphere that a great live record can capture. Five of the eight songs are bludgeoning renditions with all the menace and power that you dreamed they should have, but each song is in isolation, encapsulated through lack of continuity in Iggy’s and Bowie’s production and mixing. There’s none of the sheer magic for example that’s present on Parkerilla when "Tear Your Playhouse Down” slides into “Don’t Ask Me No Questions” or when Williamson himself crashes into “Louie Louie” on Metallic KO. That’s what I expect from top-notch live albums. TV Eye then is cold-cut and clean. For nine out of ten rock bands this would be the ultimate live album, but for rock’s number one performer we have a case here of underachievement. George Kay.

Todd Rundgren

Hermit of Mink Hollow

Bearsville There is a school of thought that maintains that Todd Rundgren fried his brains completely about three or four years ago. The adherents to this theory point to the various Utopia debacles as pretty convincing evidence. It certainly seemed that some major psychic or chemical damage must have intervened to turn Something/Anything into the cosmic debris of Another Live. Hermit of Mink Hollow is going to come as something of a shock to those theorists. While it does not capture the magic moments of Something/Anything, it ranks with others like A WizardlA True Star. It certainly shows that Rundgren’s voice, arranging skills and ear for a classic tune were not dependent on those brain cells which have gone west these last few years. The single, “Can We Still Be Friends” is the standout, but others like “Fade Away” are good enough to set your mind at rest. The Wizard is doing very nicely in Mink Hollow, and the popular song is in good hands. Francis Stark

Joe Walsh “But Seriously Folks .. ElectralAsylum We all hoped that when Joe Walsh joined the Eagles he’d pack some beef into those western wimps. So far “Life In The Fast Lane” provides scant evidence. But Walsh is hardly a prolific writer; it’s been four years since his last set of new material the marvellous So What and now we get a mere six songs plus one “developed-in-the-studio” instrumental.

Although only drummer Vitale remains of the former musicians some from the live album also feature here his influence is vital in retaining the Walsh sound. Most numbers are firmly cast in the ‘medium-slow/heavy’ mold of classics like “County Fair” and while Walsh may still play the same guitar licks, he and Vitale remain the one rhythm combination I know which can plod without becoming elephantine. If the similarities to So What provide some initial disappointment because there’s nothing here which quite reaches the peaks of that album, there’s no blunder to compare to synthesized Ravel either. But Seriously Folks ... the music, while not great, is certainly

consistently good (and occasionally enhanced by shrewd lyrics.) One fear however. This is Joe's least raging set yet. Could the Eagles be getting to him? Peter Thomson

FM Various Artists MCA FM is a double album of songs selected from the myriad of tunes that form the soundtrack accompaniment to the razzle dazzle action of the movie of the same name. As with American Graffiti most of the soundtrack songs are represented by often little more than a chorus or so to complement the visuals. Unlike American Graffiti the album is not a complete and expanded soundtrack. The artists and songs selected here appear to be the most saleable of those used in the film. In other words, by and large they’re big hits. But even while the album looks like a swept up version of those “twenty golden greats of the past fortnight” records that keep cropping up on the tube, it must be stressed that it does work as an album. Songs have been juxtaposed intelligently to ensure a coherent flow. Steely Dan wrote and perform the title song and it may be the best thing on the record. Other artists include Bob Seger, Steve Miller, Foreigner, Eagles, Boz Scaggs, Linda Ronstadt and Jimmy Buffett (the latter two perform live in the movie). Ken Williams

The Cars Elektra The Cars could be one of the more promising new groups or they could be a flash in the pan. A group out of Boston they have put together a rich first album. So did Nils Lofgren, one of my favourite newcomers, who, alas, failed to do much afterwards. The Cars have a similar punky stance to Lofgren, with strong overtones of Roxy Music in their vocal phrasing and the insinuating use of synthesiser. The strong pulse of Richard Ocasek's songs has been boosted by the production of Roy Thomas Baker, who displays the dramatic style he used with Queen. Perhaps there’s a little too much of the Baker aural histrionics on occasion (phased drums can be a bit wearisome), but there’s no denying the edgy atmosphere of the music. There’s a good helping of muscular basslines, hand claps and hooks and a great juke box song, “My Best Friend’s Girl.” It’s a night driving sound, maybe slightly sinister, an American nightscape. Ken Williams

The Stranglers

Black and White United Artists

This record depresses me beyond mention. After two excellent albums that set British rock on its bum, who would have thought the Stranglers could blow it so easily? The opening track, “Tank”, says it all. Two minutes and 54 seconds of Stranglers mayhem it may be, but the tune is so close to “Grip” and “Dagenham Dave” it’s embarrassing. The only sparks of originality come from the slightly reggae-fied "Nice N’ Sleazy” and the curious “Outside Tokyo”, which is taken at waltz time and is the most subdued number the band has recorded. The rest is mere filler. Lyrically, things seem to have gone to pot as well. Most of the words seem to be concerned with the city as a disaster area after someone has dropped The Big One. That's the only conclusion I could reach after half a dozen listenings. Obscure is putting it mildly. About the only thing that survives unscathed is the rhythm section, still as tight as an iron fist, but that’s little compensation and Jean Jacques Burnel’s grinding fuzztone bass is starting to grate on the nerves. I never thought the Stranglers would bore me. This album smacks of either a rush job or a lack of ideas. I really do hope it's the former, as to see such a band sink without a trace would be a tragedy. Get a grip on yourselves, lads. Duncan Campbell

Various Artists Montreux Summit CBS The six tunes on this double album, recorded on the final night at last year’s Montreux Festival, can be placed into two camps full ensemble and combo. The ensemble numbers “Montreux Summit”, “Blues March”, “Andromeda” suffer from hurriedly written, arranged and rehearsed scores; and at times, due to differing styles, there are clashes between soloist and rhythm section. Still, it was more a jam than a finely rehearsed gig, so these numbers are

Of course Chuck Mangione feels that way; his album hit No. 2 in the States (and not a vocal or disco track on it.) The only other contemporary example of a jazz-man creaming the pop market is Geroge Benson and he made the initial impact with a vocal single from an album of disco funk. Besides, he plays guitar which is the standard rock instrument ... but flugelhorn? Mangione’s startling success is no fluke. He's been steadily building popular support for the last fifteen years and preparing for it long before that. The son of a New York grocer, Chuck began piano lessons at eight, switched to trumpet at ten, and during his teens was able to see many of the 1950’s leading jazz musicians perform, often in the lounge of his parents’ home. It seems Papa would take his two sons to a concert and then invite the band home for spaghetti and wine afterwards. At

ll e cords continued C

merely vehicles for the thirty-odd musicians to demonstrate their improvising prowess and, indeed, there are some fine individual performances here. Alphonso Johnson’s "Bahama Mama", Dexter Gordon’? "Bananas” and Stan Getz’s “Infant Eyes” all benefit from the freedom of the smaller unit (septet, sextet and quartet respectively). Tenormen Gordon and Getz are already, of course, jazz giants. Gordon solos on all the ensemble numbers but it’s only here on his own composition that he really proves what a truly magnificent musician he is. Getz’s lyrical rendition of the Wayne Shorter ballad is an exceptionally inspiring performance. With only a brief interlude from pianist Bob James, Getz’s inimitable breathy tones make this the highlight of the set. Despite its shortcomings, it's an interesting album. With too many soloists to list here, Billy Cobham, premier skinsman, deserves a special mention for his stamina alone. The album is for the converted rather than the casual fan; rock fans wanting to supplement their record collection with some jazz would be advised to seek out the artistes’ individual works. John Dix The Motors Approved by the Motors Virgin The Motors appear to have abandoned (on record, at least) their tendency toward the heavy metal end of the New Wave spectrum. Their new album is pure pop, in the sense that the Beatles, the Hollies, the Foundations and Edison Lighthouse were pop. Those names aren’t chosen randomly; they’re among the more pronounced influences on the album. The record starts strongly with the single "Airport.” Not a guitar in sight here. All keyboards. Somewhere between the Beatles and 10cc. "Mamma Rock ’n’ Roller” is a John Lennon-ish cruncher. The other songs on Side One are a varied lot, ranging from "Forget About You” (a crib from an old Edison Lighthouse hit), the monotonic "You Beat the Hell Outta Me” (more like the old Motors), and, perhaps the most interesting cut, "Do You Mind,” with its sadistic lyric (puts one vaguely in mind of lan Dury, and that’s no bad thing). However, the rest of the album seems sluggish, heavily chorded rockers and windy ballads. The Motors are not without skill, but eclecticism in itself does not pre-determine excellence. Ken Williams Alessi All For a Reason A & M It’s clear that Alessi hold a special key. If you have a heart-felt response to that certain vein of pure pop that these guys mine then, at some point in every one of their best songs, you’ll feel the key turn. 8.8. is a clue to Alessi. They were once in a band called Barnaby Bye, their most apparent influence is the Beach Boys, their names are Billy and Bobby, and I’m picking that they’ll soon be in the big bucks. Alessi’s harmonies sparkle like wired-up Coke and their melodies seep in through your nerve ends. Their teen angst themes sit comfortably alongside more universal ones that somehow also make it, partly because the settings are so damn charming that the word "kitsch” is almost correct but certainly irrelevant.

The Alessi debut was among my most played LPs of last year, this second album All For A Reason is in some respects more ambitious, featuring fashionable (but good) sidemen like Steve Gadd. But it’s ultimately less satisfying, with a few highs just as high but scarcer than on the first. Check Alessi out if it sounds like your cuppa ... no I just changed my mind, these guys are too handsome, forget’em. Terence Hogan