Records

Rip It Up, Issue 95, 1 June 1985, Page 24

Records

Eurythmics Be Yourself Tonight RCA When David A. (nee Dave) Stewart was discussing Eurythmics' musical development with Rip It Up last year he rejoiced in the freedom he and Annie Lennox had being only a duo. "What we’ve deliberately done,” he stressed, “is try to create an atmosphere where no one knows what to expect and we can go anywhere." Given the typical strictures of film soundtrack work, Eurythmics’ 1984 cannot really be cited as a good example; however this new album should be so assessed. On Be Yourself Tonight Stewart and Lennox work with a wide range of musicians: from the European rhythm section they brought to NZ, to the Charles Williams Gospel Choir, to various Heartbreakers (reciprocating for Stewart’s cowriting and performing on Tom Petty’s recent Southern Accents). Featured guest vocalists include Elvis Costello and Aretha Franklin.

All of which leads one to expect a juicy assortment of styles and sounds.

The surprise then is how little difference these distinctive friends make to what we hear. Primarily this seems a result of Stewart’s production, which assimilates all contributions within an identifiably Eurythmics, hightech, slightly cold approach. There is no attempt, for example, to utilise the Southern rock ‘n’ roll steamroller that Tom petty gains from his band. Similarly, Costello’s vocal harmony on ’Adrian’ adds nothing of substance that Annie's voice wouldn’t have if doubletracked (as it is elsewhere on the album.) But perhaps the saddest loss is that by merging their singing so much into the mix, Annie’s potentially fiery duet with Aretha on a feminist soul workout never fully ignites. The two women just sound too similar to one another. Only Stevie Wonder asserts his identity with a fine harmonica solo on ‘There Must Be An Angel! Not that all these not-quite-realised opportunities mean that Be Yourself Tonight is therefore a bad album. It may not sparkle with the brilliance of the first side of ’B3’s Touch, but it does have a dependable consistency. Stewarts determination to integrate un-

usual instrumental combinations may not sound inspired here but it is reasonably interesting. And in the final analysis, for all their high aims, Eurythmics remain a straightforward pop group. Be Yourself Tonight contains a few good catchy toons, even if it doesn’t suggest any particularly

new avenues or atmospheres. Peter Thomson Bryan Ferry Boys and Girls Polydor This album highlights the real dichotomy between Ferry and Roxy. The three latest Roxy al-

bums were scattered in mood and ranged from deepest sincerity to dubious excursions (lax versions of ‘ln the Midnight Hour' and ‘Eight Miles High’). Their winning moments were their most nonchalant ('True To Life’, ‘Avalon’ and ‘lndia 1 ) and the same delight in experiments and parody that was the essence of early Roxy was touted as non-committal self-indulgence. Boys and Girls enters thus, with a distracting amount of time and money in the making, on a reputation that could flatter or flatten.

But this issue of “Is he as good a 5...” is simply not there; the most striking feature of Boys and Girls is its newness and consistency. There are eight songs and one tiny, precious instrumental, ’Wasteland’, that darts between pieces in a linking theme. The songs build up in layers rather than verse-and-chorus, which results in a size and timbre that blows many of Ferry’s contemporaries off the turntable. If For Your Pleasure strutted and In Your Mind rocked, then Boys and Girls simply swaggers. The Chosen One’ is one chunk of rhythm and single-chord interplay from beginning to end. ‘Stonewoman’ and 'Boys and Girls’ thick with a resonance and sweat that Flesh and Blood and Avalon simply did not wish to accommodate.

A new group of musicians has much to do with it. Nile Rodgers plays “rhythm guitar on practically every track," in Ferry’s own words, and was a regular face around recording time as a result; so there is no way that that man’s talent could have avoided seeping onto the finished product. The dreaded Mark Knopfler could have been this album’s kiss of death (exerting a tackiness similar to that injected into The Bride Stripped Bare by Waddy Wachtel) but is kept well in his place. The vocalists are a real pleasure and as upfront as the man himself. Ferry’s delight in organisation (who rips off images when you can just use the same musicians?) results in the album’s paradoxical simplicity and complexity. I can’t see this album losing but find belief in its success equally difficult. It possesses a strangeness and dissastisfaction not felt in his work since The Bride Stripped Bare, an experimentation with song structure that is taxing and introspective lyrics that dissolve at a touch. The music is the point of this album and will eventually become its own reputation. The cold fact remains that this album possesses the elusive edge and substance that makes/made Ferry’s solo work so good. Boys and Girls is no padded clip-on to Ferry’s stylistic saga, no sheepish footnote. The sort of weight we'd all like to acquire with age. Chad Taylor Killing Joke Night Time E.G. Killing Joke music conjures up great choo-choo train imagery. Night Time is a good example of the hypnotic, train-like Killing Joke, with distorted vocals and a rhythm section that goes '‘chug-chug-chug’’ all the way through Killing Joke by numbers. It does have a few things going for it though and will no doubt sell anyway being a “cult” band with a hit single. And Jaz Coleman’s charismatic RWP performance/interview must have helped ... The opening track, ‘Night Time’, comes the closest that a Killing Joke song could do to rollicking along, in its own dark, driving way, and is a tune that stays in the back of your mind like The Wait' off their first album. It features vocals that are better and harder than the next two songs, ‘Darkness Before Dawn’, where everything is buried beneath a mammoth bass-drum thud, and the single ‘Love Like

Blood’ with its nice (for Killing Joke) tune, but rather wimped-out vocal from Jaz. The rest of the album is standard, unspectacular Killing Joke, although ‘Eighties’ comes closer in mood to the title track.

Apart from ’Tabazan’, in which Jaz extolls the virtues of his own amazing virility, the other seven songs all feature standard lyrics concerning flag waving, uprising, struggle and the glory of Europe. I’m fairly convinced that Jaz Coleman must be some kind of fascist and am left pondering as to the make-up of the post-industrial future that he plans to lead the legions of Killing Joke followers into ... Still, any singer who disappears to Iceland for months to join a local band called Peyr must have some sort of intelligence, mustn’t he? Paul McKessar Paul Young The Secret Of Association CBS The white soul boy has returned. It's been over 18 months since the release of Young’s first solo effort, No Parlez, (CBS UK’s most successful album ever), a delay compounded by voice problems. Here we have 11 tracks six covers and five new compositions written by Young and longtime collaborator, keyboardist lan ‘Rev’ Kewley. The songwriting has progressed in leaps and bounds but his forte is still an ability to take someone else’s song and make it his own. Side one kicks off with ‘Bite the Hand That Feeds', a great hardedged opener. The new single, ‘Everytime You Go Away! a ballad written by another white soul boy, Darryl Hall, is given the near perfect emotional rendition. Next up ‘l’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down’, the familiar rocker, doesn’t quite succeed in the way that Graham Parker’s version did a few years back, but is saved from mediocrity by Pino Palladino's superb basslines. The side closes with an intriguing treatment of Tom Waits’ 'Soldier’s Things’, a moody piece on which Young dips his hat respectfully to the man. The trombone solo is a treat.

Side two opens with ‘Everything Must Change’, the single we're all familiar with. This is a fine example of the new compostions, showing Young both vocally and lyrically at his best. ‘Hot Fun’ gives a taste of infectious hot funk and This Means Anything’ is a beautiful, lilting ballad in 6/8 time showing another side to the duo’s songwriting abilities. The album closes with ‘I Was In Chains) the only non-original on this side (written by Gavin Sutherland of 'Sailing' fame), a folk song in the English tradition. The Secret of Association is a fine follow-up to No Parlez, full of exhilirating music by a man who continues to grow musically. Those who remembered his voice from the Q-Tips days had no doubt he would succeed as a soloist; and this is more proof. Hopefully we’ll also see Paul Young and the Royal Family in NZ as part of this year's proposed Far East tour. Simon Elton

The Triffids

Raining Pleasure

Jayrem

Before they left Perth to find fame in England in mid-84, the Triffids released the Raining Pleasure mini-album in Australia. It makes a more definitive statement of the Triffids’ sound now than does 1983’s Treeless Plain, showing how they (like everyone else) have absorbed the Birthday Party’s influence into their development. But they have not just superimposed straight gothic horror elements onto their music like so many post-BP groups Robert McComb’s violin and their original brand of folk-rock derivative remain at the Triffids’ core.

David McComb's lyrics combine stark imagery with a new openness. Echoing the tales like ‘Old Ghostrider’ on Treeless Plain, there are still tracks like 'Ballad Of Jack Frost’, a version of the traditional ‘St James Infirmary’, complete with crashing timpani from drummer Alsy MacDonald and wailing harmonica, and the mock born-again Christian stomp of 'Jesus Calling', enhanced by appropriate gospel-style female chorus On Raining Pleasure, though, there are more personally felt songs, like the title track, which closes the record with keyboardist Jill Birt lamenting in a cold void, “Salty lips to taste / Skin to touch / Nothing matters very much / In your arms it’s a raining pleasure." The seven songs seem to pass only quickly, but leave a strange, lasting impression of the Triffids’ melancholy. The Triffids reign pleasure indeed!

Paul McKessar