Records

Rip It Up, Issue 105, 1 April 1986, Page 16

Records

10,000 Maniacs The Wishing Chair Elektra Hair’s getting longer, folk is making a comeback and the singles charts are full of shit; tell-tale signs of a hippie revival? Take Natalie Merchant, 10,000 Maniacs’ singer and lyricist. A vegetarian nurtured on the poetry of Slyvia Plath and influenced as a singer by the likes of Sandy Denny and June Tabor, Merchant would have been hard to pick out of a 70s crowd. Now, her long granny dresses and precious but deceptively tough and incisive lyrics are hallmarks of one of the weirdest and most satisfying bands to come out of the mythical American revival.

Pinching their name from a spectacular splatter movie, Jamestown’s (NY State) 10,000 Maniacs started off as far back as 1980 and since then they’ve released an EP, Human Conflict Number Five, and an album, Secrets of the I Ching. The Wishing Chair with its appropriately muted folkie cover follows the single ‘Can’t Ignore The Train’ as their first moves on a major label.

Guitarist/bassist John Lombardo’s songs are held together by the precision of Robert Buck’s guitar and mandolin playing and Merchant’s powerful English folk vocal style, features so dominant they tend to give the songs an initial sameness. But the best soon stand out. ‘Can’t Ignore The Train’ is beautifully insistent, the traditional Just As The Tide Was A Flowing' is a moving death-but-life-goes-on story and the melancholy of inequality in ‘Everyone A Puzzle Lover’, the chiming guitar intro to the anti-nuke ‘Grey Victory’ and the agressive anti-war push of ‘Scorpio Rising’ and ‘My Mother The War’ are all impressive. Nope, despite outward appearances 10,000 Maniacs ain’t about to start a hippie revival, they’re too true and too good for that. And The Wishing Chair, although lacking a touch of variety in the arrangement department, has more sensitivity, intelligence and originality than most other product from this Revival USA. George Kay

John Lennon Live in New York City Parlophone Is there any reason to buy this record? Was there any reason to put it out? Only Yoko Ono could say, as she gave the go-ahead and is credited as ‘‘producer’’. Live in New York City is a recording of the last full concert John Lennon ever gave. The One to One concert at Madison Square Garden was held in August 1972 to benefit mentally retarded children. Lennon appeared with Elephant’s Memory, the band who had played on his Some Time in New York City LP, and Stevie Wonder, Roberta Flack and Sha Na Na also performed, though they’re not on this record. Live is of little value either musically or historically. Like most bootlegs it is of curiosity value only. And even then it’s not that interesting. Elephant’s Memory are an exceedingly ordinary band and Lennon, though in good humour, sings at nowhere near his best: The songs, as you’d expect, mostly come from the early 70s, “since I left the Rolling Stones”: garagy versions of ‘New York City’, ‘Well Well Well' and ‘lt’s So Hard’; a delightful ‘lnstant Karma’ singalong, and ‘Woman is the Nigger of the World; a lovely romantic ballad. Attempts at delicacy on ‘Mother’ (“for all parents”) and ‘lmagine’ highlight the limitations of the band; they sound like a dance combo at an Ohakune wedding. The record has some good moments though. ‘Come Together’ (“We’ll go back into the past just once”) has real grunt, and Lennon expresses surprise at remembering the words. But the killer is ‘Cold Turkey’ — excellent singing, completely chilling: get me out of this hell! (“I hope you enjoyed that,” he says.) Then it’s a tribute to King El, ‘Hound Dog’, which Lennon sings with obvious relish — and the band can cope with. There’s no hint that the proceeds will go to charity, so one wonders about the motives in releasing this mediocrity. Is Yoko just a stylish grave-robber? If you’re a completist, you’ll buy it anyway. If you’re after live John Lennon, the best available is still his half of the spontaneous Live Peace in Toronto. Chris Bourke Public Image Ltd Album Virgin Ten years on an’ all that... ’ullo John, gotta new Album? ‘FFF’ (“farewell my fair-

weathered friend"). Is is to Keith Levine, or even Sid — “on you no one could depend... shallow, empty and snide’? Whoever it’s to, the song works — the best PiL song for ages. There’s no gap, falling straight into ‘Rise’ (‘l2” Single’), violins et al, and it's okay, is just a bit too long and drawn out. But the minimalist approach of both ‘Fishing’ and ‘Round’ leads both songs nowhere at all.

‘Bags’ sounds like ‘Fever’ crossed with a track off the new Scraping Foetus Off The Wheel LR

so it passes as okay too. The cliched rock of ‘Home’ is too much though. ‘Ease’ begins as further minimalist meanderings on the Fairlight (but trying to make it sound like a didjeridoo is a tad ridiculous) before it too rocks off into the sunset... and that’s it for another album. Most of the anger left with the first LP. Most of the talent left with Jah Wobble. What PiL are left with are the inane shrieks of a mildly interesting English eccentric approaching middle age. Biff plonk biff plonk anger is an energy biff plonk. Paul McKessar The Faith Brothers Eventide Siren The Faith Brothers or is it the Faith, Brothers, revolve around singer/guitarist Billy Franks and bassist Lee Hirons, two 25 year old socialists from Fulham, home also for their 16-track studio where Eventide, their first album was recorded. Their stamping ground is similar to the environment that bred the likes of Weller and Bragg and so it’s not surprising that the Faith Brothers share the same political convictions and consequently the same lyrical content. But unlike his two greater predecessors Franks has a weakness for dressing reality in lofty rhetoric (’Whistling in the Dark’) and philosophical generalisations

(’Man: Composed by his own Lullaby’ from ‘The Sleepwalker’) and these tend to trip up his obvious commitment. Yet occasionally he gets it right, particularly on ‘Easter Parade’, another Falklands song (“The bulldogs bayed/The pious prayed/l think it rained/On the Easter Parade”), and on ‘The Tradesman’s Entrance’ he knows the price of the depression (“Say it’s true/They would not train and pay some to club my right to refuse.”). Musically, as a seven piece, the

band pick up on late period Jam with horn-led anthems like ‘Sunday’, ‘Whistling in the Dark’ and ‘The Sleepwalker’ and Franks’s voice growls with a Wellerian strain of sincerity. At the other end of the barricade the minimalist title track is probably a bit too precious but ‘Easter Parade’ gets the balance right as does ‘The Tradesman’s Entrance' and the colliers’ lot of ‘Dust in the Soul’.

But the Faith Brothers have yet to realise that bald and bold political/social statements have no real place in the pop world. Rock’n’roll is a piss poor political stage: excite us first, educate us second. At the moment Franks and company have their priorities wrong but there’s enough evidence on Eventide to suggest that they could learn fast. George Kay Clarence Clemons Hero CBS One of the perks when you’re the only readily identifiable face in the world’s most esteemed backup band is that you’re gonna be encouraged to make your own solo album. However Clemons’ first such attempt was decidedly mediocre. And the fact that the only memorable track was contributed by his Boss somewhat undermined the whole purpose of venturing out on his own. (That track, by the way, also gave local man Sonny Day the material for

his hit single last year.) This time out Clemons has acquired a new spiritual leader and a new forename to match. Nonetheless the lyrics are often sexist — ‘I Wanna Be Your Hero' indeed — while the instrumentals remain predictably saxist. But he’s also got a new producer in Narada Michael Walden, who, for all his slipperyslick reputation, at least knows that Clarence — whoops, Mokshagun — ain’t really that startling as a lead singer. So Walden uses soundsurround production and gets a couple of big names in to help out with the vocals. Jackson Browne duets on side one, track one (which became a Top 10 single stateside) and Darlene Love supplies a muchneeded edge to the Walker Brothers classic ‘The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore’. Side two is definitely the more consistent and shifts seamlessly from big dancehall beat to cruisy ballad. Clemons’ singing sounds steadier too. But all told the album has a catchy pop-soul appeal that will delight the sort of Fm programmers who like to highrotate the Pointer Sisters.

But finally, it’s Narada Michael Walden who deserves top billing. Having recently written and produced Aretha Franklin’s commercial comeback he could well emulate that succes with Clemons. So while the big saxman may get the spotlight here, in actuality he’s basically just swapped one boss for another. Peter Thomson Klymaxx Meeting in the Ladies’ Room Constellation Having, through some genetic grab-bag chance outcome, been fated male, I cannot speak firsthand of the Ladies’ Room, nor report with any confidence of the meetings held therein. Fortunately the Klymaxx album allows a rare glimpse at this social phenomenon, and treats it with typical sensitivity and a broad sense of humour. Whilst detail might be considered unnecessary, if not too scatalogical for these columns, I can tell you that in that atmosphere of eddying clouds of hairspray and pursed lips, decisions are made that affect all of us, a little gossip passed and the conversation often runs to mascara and stockings. Opening the album with the Prince-styled vanity of ‘The Men All Pause; the girl who knows she’s looking good, a song that anticipates and teases, with a hard beat

and the guys all groaning on cue. ‘Meeting in the Ladies’ Room' follows the girl telling us her man troubles, and fixing her face with a warpaint to keep the other girls from snatching him. Sadly, now comes the hit single ‘I Miss You; which sees a tear in my eye and a skip to the next song, which I love. It’s called ‘Video Kid’, it’s adolescents on heat, it’s gorgeous, it’s tough, and I play it over and over.

This album is Wow, it’s juvenile, sexy, 14 made-up to look 21. Nine tracks for one-track minds, it’s an album for teeny boppers and old men. It's the way of the new soul; cut, masterminded and marketed for the naive and the licentious. From five girls who can’t spell, it’s an effort that few will will fail to get worked up about. Peter Grace The Small Faces Greatest Hits Immediate In the mid-60s two young British mod bands were taking the world by storm. Twenty years later the Who are living legends and the Small Faces? Er... Who? The band’s early demise is the main reason for their less-than-household name, but for three years they were one of the hottest acts in Britain., From thrashing R&B to their own unique sound, they progressed rapidly. By midß? the faces had left Decca for the; progressive Immediate label and it is from this later period that the tracks here are taken. All of their A-sides are included: ‘Here Comes The Nice; ‘ltchykoo Park; ‘Tin Soldier’, ‘Lazy Sunday’, ‘The Universal’ and the posthumous ‘Afterglow’ with its B-side ‘Wham Bam, Thank You Mam’. The record is completed with three “rarities” from the Autumn Stone compilation and two tracks from the famed Ogden's Nutgone Flake. ; The Faces must be the most underrated of the top British bands of the 60s. More fun than the Who, more honest than the Stones, more melodic than the Kinks and more raunchy than the Beatles. They were different to all of them and proud of it. The lack of sleeve notes here is disappointing, but the cover photo is a brilliant shot of the ultimate Mod band — all French cuts, suede jackets, button-down collars and mohair suits. So at last here is an album by the Small Faces, one of the most dynamic, witty and talented pop bands of any decade. Come on children!; Troy Shanks