RECORDS

Rip It Up, Issue 40, 1 November 1980, Page 14

RECORDS

Madness

The Passions Michael and Miranda Stunn Hailing from London, the Passions two girls, two boys tread carefully over ground recently covered by label-mates the Cure. Fortunately, the Passion's all-female vocal line keeps the distance between the acts great enough for comfort. Side One of the album opens at top pace with ‘Pedal Fury’, Short and to the point, it makes way for ‘Oh No It’s You', the flip of the band’s first New Zealand single 'Hunted'. The same melodic guitar riff the Cure used on 'The Forest’ crops up on ‘Love Song’, unimpaired by the re-run. Following in succession on Side Two are possibly the album’s strongest compositions, ‘Suspicion’, ‘Palava’ and 'Absentee'. The closer, ‘Why Me?’ makes it evident that the girls write the lyrics. You call us the weaker sex When it's you that made us weak You fool us with sexual delight Then you threaten us with physical might. Chris Parry’s Fiction Records (released here on Stunn) set a high standard with the Cure. The Passions in no way lower that standard. Now, how long before the Associates get a local release? Mark Phillips Neil Young Hawks and Doves Reprise Neil Young opens his new album with a blast on harmonica that pins your ears back to your head. Whatever else he may be aiming for, the easy listening market isn't on the list. Hawks and Doves fits neatly into two musical areas. Side One, mainly acoustic, has a weathered ancient feel to it, the kind of music Ry Cooder created for The Long Riders’ soundtrack almost, but not quite, from another age. The most effective song, ‘The Old Homestead’, features a saw player, and the strange sound of the bending saw, like wind whistling through a deserted house at midnight, is perfect for the dark atmosphere Young conjures up. Side Two, all electric, is driven mostly by Young’s piano which sometimes, as in the opening track, ‘Stayin’ Power’ evokes memories of Lloyd Price’s 'New Orleans’, circa 1955. Young draws all his themes together in the title track, which can be read as a warning that would please Ronald Reagan with its sentiments. Sings Young: ’’The big wind blows, so the tall grass bends/ But for you don’t push too hard my friend.” When Young, a Canadian, sings that he’s “proud to be livin’ in the USA’’ there doesn't appear to be the edge of sarcasm that Chuck Berry applied to a similar line. Young as super patriot is not a role many of us would have seen for him, but it’s another turn in a career with so many turns you can never lose interest. Phil Gifford The Plasmatics New Hope For the Wretched Jona Lewie On the Other Hand There's A Fist Madness A bsolutely Stiff Stiff seems to operate on Andy Warhol's principle that everyone is due about fifteen minutes of fame. A long line of weird and wonderful acts have recorded for the label, including Humphrey Lyttleton, Wreckless Eric, Lene Lovich, Magic Michael and many others. The latest in this tradition, the Plasmatics, are perhaps the least talented of the lot. They have a lot in common with the Damned, one of Stiff’s first signings. Both have a guitarist who wears a tutu, a singer who can't sing, a peculiar sense of humour, and both have produced a debut of loud, brash, chaotic punk. There is a difference, though. The Damned album was a classic of messy, post-Dolls punk, while the Plasmatics record has no redeeming features, and despite the sensation surrounding the band, is just plain rubbish. On the other hand, I’m glad to see a re-issue of Jona Lewie’s fine 1978 album, which was unfairly ignored at the time, aside from huge suc-

cess in Finland. It is a fine example of blueeyed Euro-soul, and Polygram have added the recent hit, 'Kitchen at Parties’. Although this is far more Dury-like, and not representative of the rest of the album, it doesn't detract from it. The first Madness album, One Step Beyond, was one of last year’s finest debuts, and along with the Beat’s album, the best of the first crop of 2-Toners. The "nutty” sound is still evident on Absolutely, but it is now much tighter, thanks largely to a superb production by Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley. The only real failure is Chas Smash’s skabilly, ‘Solid Gone', which is rather wooden, but it is more than outweighed by songs .like ‘E.R.N.I.E.’, a song about the perils of betting, ‘Baggy Trousers’, an ode to schooldays, and the instrumental, ‘Los Palmas 7’, which sounds like a Viv Stanshall-inspired out-take from a Bonzo's album. While not as immediate as its predecessor, Absolutely is a fine album, and mostly surpasses the standard set by One Step Beyond. Simon Grigg

Skids The Absolute Game Virgin The Skids have received more than their fair share of flak over their first two albums. Accusations of pomposity have been directed at Richard Jobson, vocalist and the man held responsible for their lyrical pretensions, and a man who feels the need to adopt a rationalised persona via his dress sense and personal philosophies. Skids’ music has never beenkissed by the lip of divine perception but they've always managed to be above average in their word sense as well as incorporating a few unusual aspects (slipstream wall of sound, Jobson’s and Adamson's meshing guitars and Jobson's highly produced vocals) into your day-to-day rock’n'roll. The Absolute Game, their third album, differs a little from their other two in that it is their most refined to date. Carefully crafted minidramas like the African vocal platform of ‘A Woman in Winter' and the immaculately tailored musicianship of The Devil’s Decree’ and ’Arena’ are the signs of a band who care for their music and are eager to please. Jobson can be bombastic (‘Circus Games’ and ‘One Decree') and a touch melodramatic but these are well-intentioned attempts at communication from a lyricist also trying to reach precision. The Skids had shaken off their Dunfermline dowdiness long ago but there are those who perpetually feel the need to remind the band of their origins. But three thoughtful albums out of three speaks for itself. George Kay Dave Edmunds/Love Sculpture Singles A's & B's, 1967-72 Harvest I wonder why I’m reviewing this album. Anyone else would simply take David Brown’s excellent sleeve notes, edit them some and bung them out "Unlike many artists, the early recordings of Edmunds’ are not embarrassing skeletons from the cupboard, but a useful pointer to a great rock musician’s future." That says it all. If you know Dave Edmunds’ work at all, or if you have one eighth of the love and respect that he has for rock and roll, you don’t need me to tell you that words like dated and nostalgia sure don’t apply to this album, baby. You don’t need me to tell you that this album contains ail those great singles like 'Sabre

Dance’, ‘I Hear You Knocking', ‘Down, Down, Down’, and their release dates, catalogue numbers and so on. In fact, you only need me to tell you that his first recorded work, a version of ‘Morning Dew’, with the Human Beans, appears here, and that this is a great record to introduce you to his beginnings. It makes a fine supplement to the slightly more comprehensive Early Works Rocker compilations. Dave McLean Chic * Real People Atlantic . chic (sh-eek skill, effectiveness, style, stamp of authority, stylish,‘ in the fashion. Chic certainly fit the bill. In the last few years they have made the most stylish and effective dance floor music available. The Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers song partnership has constructed a series of classics from the simplest musical and lyrical ideas. They build songs storey upon storey until you have the complete entity, a soul/disco skyscraper. The new album follows their traditional, failsafe and superior methods but with less immediate impact and success than Risque. As an opener, ’Open Up’, an instrumental, is brisk but forgettable, however, amends are made by the title track and to a lesser extent by 'I Got Protection’, standard crisp Rodgers-Edwards’ fare. ‘Rebels Are We’ is a good a second side entree as you’d get, but ‘Chip Off the Old Block’ sags under a barely serviceable tune. So, soul brothers, you gotta wait until ‘26’ for the real goods, stacatto and incisive, it stands with their finest, a comment that can’t be aimed at the innocuous love funk of the closer, ‘You Can't Do It Alone’. ’ ; ’ The stamp of superiority tag would, perhaps, fit three of the songs present the title track, ‘Rebels Are We’ and ‘26’. The rest could be filed under F, for Fashionable and Functional. George Kay Nina Hagen Band Unbehagen CBS Herman Brood, Nina Hagen & Lene Lovich Cha Cha Soundtrack Ariola Nina Hagen is a 25-year-old former East German who left for the West due. to some obscure political wrangle. She’d already made something of a reputation as a singer-actress when she left East Berlin' in 1976. Dividing her time between West Berlin, Amsterdam and London, she soon became fascinated with the punks and determined to emulate them. Her idol is undoubtedly Lene Lovich, whom she tries to resemble vocally, and fails. Hagen has a formidable coloratura voice, but without Lovich’s charm and wit. She yelps, wails and snarls pointlessly, as if believing she’ll carve her own niche by sounding as bizarre as possible. Couple this with her own interpretation of punk hairstyles and makeup, and you have a most unattractive picture.

Unbehagen (translates to 111 At Ease) features a German version of Lovich’s "Lucky Number” which does nothing for the song, some loopy reggae and a lot of ponderous Germanic heavy metal. It helps that you can barely understand a word Hagen is singing, and the warning about offensive lyrics is superfluous. Nina Hagen is self-obsessed and ostentatious.

Cha Cha is a movie featuring Lovich, Hagen

and her junkie Dutch boyfriend, Herman Brood. The point of the film has so far escaped most who have seen it. The soundtrack is saved by the inclusion of Lene’s “Home''. Brood seems to fancy himself as another Springsteen, and the rest is contributed by various second-rate Dutch bands who, in the words of Milligan, leave an indelible blank on the memory. Duncan Campbell Australian Crawl The Boys Light Up EMI On stage, Australian Crawl follow Oz tradition and belt out their repertoire in headbanging fashion. It is surprising, therefore, that producer David Briggs has opted for a more mellow approach, mixing back the rhythm section and taking the edge off the guitars, allowing the strong melodies to come to the fore. Fortunately, Little River Band guitarist Briggs hasn't allowed the result to degenerate into the saccharine pap that has become his group’s trademark. Instead we are left with an album, in all its clarity, which shows off Australian Crawl’s greatest asset, singer and main lyricist James Reyne. Reyne possesses a fine set of lungs. There’s power, poetry and potency here. Australian all the way, his lyrics and delivery don't resort to the Strine of Dave Warner but, if a comparison is sought, more to the early Skyhooks. Boys Light Up doesn’t let any aspect of Australian life off the hook. The trendy middle-class fall under Reyne astute observations in ‘Hootchie Gucci Fiorucci Mama’ (great title) and then there’s the controversial title track: Later at the party, all the MPs rave ‘Bout the ‘hummas' she’s been giving And the money that they save ... All three Australian singles are included on this, their debut album and, I guess, that’s what their target is the singles charts. If you have an interest in Australian pop, grab this one. John Dix Steve Forbert Little Stevie Orbit Epic The sleeve note (Marcus Tybalt on the Seeds’ cover was always my favourite) seems to be coming back. First there was that Grade A rubble on the second Knack album, and now we see seasoned hack Paul Gambuccini offering a strong contender in the is-this-man-serious stakes for his piece on the back of the third Forbert album. It’s the people around Forbert telling us how he shatters worlds an’ stuff who are probably doing the man’s career the most harm. Them, and the bozo who designed the cover for this record and then decided Little Stevie Orbit was a good title. Forbert's first album had some good lines and a definite New York folkie charm, but his limitations were laid bare on album two. Pete Solley has been brought in for this one, and the aim appears to have been to present Forbert as a man of more wide-ranging writing styles. As a cover-up job for a guy who says and does it all on one acoustic guitar, this is reasonably successful. Both the wimp and the limp are still out in the open, but 'One More Glass Of Beer’ and 'Lonely Girl’ have substance, and the lighter ‘Cellophane Girl’ and 'Song For Katrina’ are viable pieces of precious pop for the singles market. Steve Forbert isn’t the Dylan of the 80s or the Springsteen of the 90s or whatever. Rather he is about two-thirds as talented as, ummm,

Elliot Murphy. It would be nice if the promo machine gave him a break. Roy Colbert Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band Doc At the Radar Station Virgin 1980 is going to be remembered for a lot of things, too numerous to go into here, but the return of Captain Beefheart is sure to be one of them. After a few years silence (with the exception of the America-only Shiny Beast) Beefheart has come back with two albums this year, the varied and evocative re-hashed Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) and now Doc At the Radar Station. The Magic Band has changed a little since SBBCP with the departure of guitarist Richard Redus and the re-introduction of original sixties' member, John French, who has switched from drums to mainly slide guitar. This change has resulted in the emphasis being placed on the shoulders of French fellow guitarist, Jeff Tepper. It's their aggressive and fractured inter-play that provides the scenario for Beefheart’s on-form dementia. Bruce Fowler’s trombone which added so much colour and feeling to SBBCP is kept in the background as French and Tepper mesh on songs like 'Hot Head' and ‘Dirty Blue Gene' or play around with Beefheart’s irregular riffs on ‘Sherrif of Hong Kong’. The band is developing nicely, although I preferred the greater musical diversity and subtlety of SBBCP, and Beefheart’s material is again strong with his humanitarianism and compassion shining through his obvious surrealism and weird metaphors. Songs like ‘Ashtray Heart’ 'Best Batch Yet' and ‘Telephone’, together with those mentioned above, show the purpose of vintage Van Vliet. Like I said, a welcome return. George Kay James Freud Breaking Silence Mushroom The Reels The Reels Mercury Two debut albums from two types of Australian on different outings. James Freud was adopted by Gary Numan and he accompanied the latter on a UK tour, but Freud, wisely, chose to undertake this album without Numan's guiding hand. Actually Freud and his band lean towards the crafted pop end of the spectrum rather than to the empty synthesiser forays that Numan revels in. He has a handful of songs here that distinguish him as a gent with an ear for a pertinent tune and ‘Enemy Lines’, ‘Star to Star’ and ‘No More Telephone’ rise above most of Numan’s output. Promising but he could live without the plastic posturing that covers the inner sleeve. The Reels emerged from the outback two years ago and although they didn’t exactly take Sydney by storm they have managed to draft the critics on their side. Small mercies. Their acknowledged influences are Devo, which accounts for their occasional clockwork eccentricities, and XTC who have made an impact on singer/songwriter Dave Mason’s vocalizations and the band's lively approach. But like Zep these influences are merely springboards to their own music, and, often using reggae rhythms, they reel off a welter of intelligent pop songs, ‘Love Will Find A Way’, ‘Plastic Pop’, 'Prefab Hearts’ and 'The Meeting’ leading the field.

Both Freud and the Reels have made passable opening shots. Judgement reserved. George Kay