Life without Phil part two

Rip It Up, Issue 21, 1 April 1979, Page 10

Life without Phil part two

/Qic&cdU

Split Enz Mushroom The Split Enz Struggle To Make It has encountered almost every difficulty imaginable from management and financial problems to numerous disruptive personnel changes. It seems that only Finn's increasing maturity as a songwriter and the band’s belief in themselves have kept them from folding under the various pressures. When Judd left over two years ago few people expected them to continue, never mind the chances of conjuring an album as fresh or commercial as Dizrhythmia. Judd always appeared to be the deep, sombre Brains Behind but suddenly it became more than apparent that Finn could write better melodies, better songs. Frenzy, then, is life without Phil Part Two, if you like, and just as Dizrhythmia was a transitional retreat from their long songs period, Frenzy is a confident and more complete assertion from a rock band who can knit twelve sonqs into one cohesive framework. No mean feat. Finn's love songs, “Stuff and Nonsense", “The Roughest Toughest Game in the World" and "Betty" convincingly convey the frenzy of that emotion in its various forms, "Hermit McDermitt", "Frenzy" and "Master Plan" are more lighthearted tracks, itchy danceable attacks on the crazy demands of society, while on "Give It a Whirl", “Abu Dhabi" and "Mind Over Matter” Neil Finn's hard-edge guitar gives those songs an intense arrangement. In the past Split Enz have been quite rightly compared with Genesis, but since Dizrhythmia and most noticeably on this new album, they have incorporated a more accessible midsixties approach to their music. The arrangements are now tighter and consequently less complex giving the songs an impact that the "Nightmare Stampedes" seemed to lack. Don't get me wrong, the more complex Enz repetoire has its place, it’s just that Frenzy is easily their most sure-footed and satisfying album to date. If there’s a better New Zealand record I'd like to know about it. George Kay

8.8 King Midnight Believer

ABC 8.8. King has covered more ground, more convincingly, than virtually any other bluesman. Not only does he stand among the half dozen giants of the blues, but his vocal and instrumental versatility and sophistication have enabled him to move successfully beyond the confines of a strictly blues format. He has worked with swing style bands (still his favoured performing sound), rock musicians and jazz guitarist Kenny Burrell with no loss of face). He achieved an artistic high spot with the strings-laden drama of The Thrill Is Gone.' Naturally, not all the experiments have been blessed. The Philadelphia-styled Friends album was much. Midnight Believer finds 8.8. at the peak of his form. His collaboration with the Crusaders delivers outstanding music, drawing on blues, jazz, soul and gospel influences for a sum far in excess of its parts. Crusaders pianist Joe Sample has written most of the songs and they have his brand of densely rhythmic cool, a perfect vehicle for 8.8 King’s mellow vocals. Not a lot of space is given over to his guitar playing. When he does latch on to Lucille he tends to knock out singlestring lines which function as rhythmic device rather than solo voice. The result is perhaps B.B's most uniformly successful album, certainly of recent years, maybe since the legendary Live at the Regal set. Having heard it done, the pairing of 8.8. King and the Crusaders seems so obvious that one may wonder why it didn't happen sooner. Superlative. Ken Williams

Phoebe Snow Against The Grain CBS

Like those before it, Phoebe Snow’s latest album is a mixture of tunes written by herself

and others. But, unlike its predecessors, far and away the best tracks on this album are those written by the woman herself. Their musical strengths and Snow's delivery leave the cover versions for dead. Take "Every Night" for example. Paul McCartney’s original bash at it, on his first solo album, wasn’t so bad. In fact Snow has added very little other than an excess of ‘oooos’. By contrast, her own "You Have Not Won” is an absolute beauty. Snow throws her voice into it with passionate intensity and the lyrics - concerning the final score of a lovers’ quarrel -defeat poor Paul’s hands down. Likewise with the lovely “Oh, L.A." and "Random Time”, which is a gem in the annals of put-upon women songs. In fact, the only nonSnow number that comes close to comparison is Margaret Roche’s "Married Men", sung in a giggle and lots of fun. As a whole the album hangs together most happily. Snow is definitely concerned with packing the punches by stepping up the number of rock’n'roll tracks. And, with a competent band behind her, she does it nicely. Her voice, slightly husky and mercifully different from the imitable Ms Ronstadt, takes kindly to a bit of rocking. See if you don’t too. Louise Chunn

Blues Brothers Briefcase Full of Blues

Atlantic With the horns blaring the riff to Otis Redding’s "I Can’t Turn You Loose” the MC announces "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Universal Amphitheatre. Well, here we are in the late 1970’s going on 1985. You know, so much of the music we hear today is pre-programmed electronic disco; we never get a chance to hear master bluesmen practising their craft any more. By the year 2006 the music known today as the blues will exist only in the classical records department of your local public library. "So tonight, ladies and gentlemen, while we still can, let us welcome from Rock Island, Illinois, Joliet Jake Blues and Elwood Blues, the Blues Brother..."

If that seems a lot of space to give to an opening announcement it's because it sets the tone of this hilarious album so perfectly. I mean, Joliet Jake Blues? Elwood? Someone’s kidding.

Jake is John Belushi and Elwood is Dan Aykroyd, both graduates of the National Lampoon school of humour and mainstays of the outrageous American satirical television show Saturday Night The Blues Brothers grew out of the TV series. Visually, they're arm-breakers for the Mob (dark suits, dark shades, a mysterious briefcase.) Aurally, Joliet Jake can be anything from a down and out Chicago blues singer to a vibrating rastaman (if you caught Jack Nicholson’s film Goin' South you'll recall Belushi as the greasiest of Mexican frijoles and Elwood is no mean harp player. The music runs the gamut from Chicagostyle blues through reggae to Stax soul without losing a beat. It helps that the Brothers are backed by one of the best kick-ass bands ever assembled (Steve Cropper, Duck Dunn, Matt ‘guitar’ Murphy, Tom Scott et al). Best of all, it's very funny. Too often, people who love something as much as Jake and Elwood do render it lifeless by their stultifying seriousness. Ken Williams (who's not too serious)

Nicolette Larson Nicolette Warner Bros On the strength of this debut album Rolling Stone magazine declared Nicolette Larson 1978's female singer of the year. However that accolade probably says more about the magazine’s increasingly bourgeois editorial drift than it does about the album. Nicolette contains some fine tracks but is by no means consistently good, let alone brilliant. The problem lies with the occasional song choice and the general production. Ted Templeman's sound is just another bland from L.A. and it is only on the more up-tempo numbers that Larson's personality shines through the mix. Consequently the country and slower songs (including another damn J.D. Souther) seem fairly insipid. But the rockier tracks do deliver and suggest promise for Larson’s future. Of all the interpretive singers emerging in the light of la Ronstadt’s star, Larson seems to be most at home rocking with a band. The soul classic "Baby, Don’t You Do It" is given a commanding performance and Jesse Winchester's "Rhumba Girl” struts with a sexy funk. Sure, there's a couple of Little Foots in support but, nonetheless, Larson sounds positively exuberant. These numbers (and the hit "Lotta Love") more than warrant Larson’s move from backing vocalist to solo performer. I hope she makes a whole album this strong.

Peter Thomson

Willie Nelson

Willie and Family Live

CBS

Yet another double live album. Yeah, well I suppose it’s a good way to keep the product on the market. Record a series of concerts then take your pick. In this case we have mostly oldies, a few newies and a bit of patter standard live album formula.

There’s nothing better than a good concert. Unfortunately, there are very few good concert albums. Something precious is lost in the transition from auditorium to vinyl. Namely participation. This isn’t bad, I suppose tainly liked to have been there. But I wasn’t and listening from an armchair doesn’t quite compare. Still, for those interesting in an introduction to the Old Man of the Outlaw Clan this is recommended. We have here a good look at Nelson's career, from "Funny How Time Slips Away” to his version of "Georgia On My Mind" (released on his last album). In between we have some of his better-known songs, including a medley from Red Headed Stranger, as well as Willie’s version of Rodney Crowell's “Till I Gain Control Again" and a lovely solo rendition of Leon Russell’s "Song For You.” All in all a pleasant album but all rather pointless, don’t you think? John Dix

McGuinn, Clark & Hillman

Capitol There weren’t too many people disappointed with the polished nostalgia and new songs content of the Original Byrds tour of last year. The emphasis, if anything, was placed naturally on past achievements whether with the Byrds or on solo vehtures. McGuinn, Clark and Hillman, however, is not a retrospective album pining for the long lost glorious days of Fifth Dimen-

sion, but a 3-D view of where they are now. The album is certainly no country rock landmark but it is a pleasantly balanced selection of their individual material. Hillman, along of course with McGuinn and Clark, was responsible for clearing the ground in the sixties for guys like the Eagles, and it is ironic that of his three songs here two of them could fit quite easily onto any Eagles' album with their lightweight rock breeziness and tight harmonies. Clark contributes four tracks but his style is generally more pensive particularly on "Little Mama”. Surprisingly McGuinn takes the backseat and of his two songs the new 45 “Don't You Write Her Off" is the most Byrds reminiscent song on the album and even then don’t expect a barrage of twelve string guitars. Nothing adventurous, but then again nothing embarrassing. It’s quite painless. George Kay

The Steve Miller Band

Greatest Hits 1974-78

Mercury

The date in the title is the giveaway. This is by no means a true retrospective of Steve Miller. Apart from “The Joker" the tracks are from his two most recent albums, Fly Like An Eagle and Book of Dreams. Miller’s recent work has been governed by a contract whereby Capitol distribute him in the U.S., but distribution for the rest of the world is handled by Mercury. This may dictate the limited span of the material. Or it may have been felt that earlier works were adequately summed up in the Anthology album.

Be that as it may, this compilation works very well as an album in its own right. Miller was one of the first to realise the potential of

the record album as a programme of music and his records have always been assembled meticulously. It’s arguable whether all the songs were genuinely 'hits’ but they represent the peak of Steve Miller’s creative skills in the late 70s, from the bounce of “Swingtown” through the supercharged rhythm guitars of ’’Take the Money and Run" and "Rock’N’Me” to the spacey drone of "Fly Like an Eagle" and the hoedown of "Dance, Dance, Dance.” If you’re a collector of Miller, this record is redundant, but as a summation of his later work it's nigh perfect (it’s only personal taste but I would have liked “Mercury Blues” in there). For earlier material look to the locallycompiled “greatest hits” set put out by EMI. For Miller in performance, I recommend the Midnight Toker bootleg. Ken Williams

Chaka Khan Chaka Warner Bros There were signs on Rufus’ last album, Street Player, that Khan was about to embark on a solo career yet, despite the weakness of tracks where she didn’t sing lead, Street Player demonstrated that Rufus could command jazzinfluenced styles as convincingly as the soulful strutting of their early work. Chaka continues the move towards sophistication but there any continuity between the albums is ended. Street Player's success was rooted in the cohesion of a long-standing performing unit, particularly its fine sense of controlled dynamics. Chaka is a debut and as such seeks redefinition. Restraint is out. Producer Arif Mardin has opted for the big-

ger is better approach, so not only do all the classy sessionmen show off their chops but they're mixed forward and loud. Numbers may start off subtly enough but by mid-way through the arrangement so much is happening that Khan has to yell to get out front. And that’s a pity because her voice sometimes get disconcertingly shrill.

Nonetheless Chaka does have some successes here: a duet with George Benson, for example, has the funkin’ breezy appeal of his hit formula. On the whole, however, despite the big names and big sound, this listener prefers Chaka Rufusized. Peter Thomson Marvin Gaye Here, My Dear

Motown In which Marvin Gaye once again invites us into his bedroom, and takes us through his personal traumas, fight by fight, homily by homily, woman by woman.

Let's Get It On was the first encounter, the seduction and still stands out as a classic nooky record. Its successor, / Want You, was the post-orgasmic sigh, placid and selfsatisfied, and not nearly as meaty. Here, My Dear details the break-up and subsequent divorce. Curtis Shaw’s overly effusive liner notes say it’s based around a 'personal experience’ of Marvin’s and a very messy business it must have been too, since it takes four sides to tell a story. The split is reported to have left Marvin more than a little financially embarrassed, and a tad bitter too, by all account. Certainly, this bitterness is reflected in the cover art, and the inner sleeve, which shows a man and a woman playing a king of Monopoly game to divide up the property.

The music? Just what we’ve come to expect from O!' Marv. Mellifluous, seamlessly soulful, weaving patterns of fluff around the listener and causing little pain. Whether it justifies four sides is still debatable. The melodies are the subtle type that bear repeated encounters. Take a bottle, a cut lunch, and someone with whom you are more than friendly. It’s worthy trying. Personally, I could do with less of Marvin's soulful raps on love and pain, and the pointless "Funky Space Reincarnation” is a disco bandwagon-jumper that could have been dispensed with altogether. The rest, judge for yourself. Me, I’m just content to say that Marvin's voice still makes my eyes water. Wonder if any of the ladies in his life could be so successful telling Their side of the story? Duncan Campbell

Valerie Carter Wild Child CBS

Every now and then stories filter through the record company hype of an artist objecting to the release of her/his latest album. Professional integrity, pride, the eternal search for perfection - whatever, it’s always a rather impressive story. But what if that person is wrong? Valerie Carter doesn't like her first album, Just A Stones Throw Away. In spite of overwhelmingly positive reviews when it came on sale early in 1977, she came out against its release; even now it gives her "anxiety attacks”. By contrast her newly released Wild Child has met with a happier reception from its star. She likes it, and I can’t help wondering why. True, Just A Stones Throw Away was something of a mish-mash of styles and influences, its eclecticism only emphasised by the presence of 35 'renowned' musicians and singers helping out. Regardless, it was a quite exceptional first album, putting Ms Carter's voice through a most impressive set of paces. Wild Child is almost a regression from that high standard. It’s not that it's bad; even worse, it's bland. Not a single track stands out from the middle-of-the-road selection, almost all cruisy, lightweight numbers sugared up with strings or synthesizers. Mercifully, Ms Carter's clear, strong voice shines through at times, most notably on the uncluttered “Lady in the Dark”. But this is an exception. Even the lady's song-writing abilities, unequivocally proved on her debut album, seem to have been adversely affected by her partnership with producer James Newton Howard. I don’t deny that there's a place for easy listening background music. But such a shame that Valerie Carter, with the promise of such good things, is the one to fill it. Louise Chunn