Category Archives: vinyl

Linda McCartney • Wide Prairie [LP, CD, DD]

Lots of insults have been lobbed at LINDA McCARTNEY since the day she entered husband Paul’s life. “She broke up The Beatles,” “she can’t sing,” “she’s a bleedin’ vegetarian,” etc. This reissue of the posthumous compilation Wide Prairie may not go far in turning that tide, but it will – at the very least – go a ways to helping the Macca nerds of the world fatten up their collections a little more.

This 16-track album was first released in 1998, and 21 years later it’s still an interesting yet slightly troublesome undertaking. There’s a number of great songs here, including “Seaside Woman” (recorded in ’72-’73 during Wings’ Red Rose Speedway sessions), “Cook of the House” (which first appeared on Wings at the Speed of Sound in ’76) and album closer “Appaloosa,” but the rest of the material is cute yet not crucial. A few songs are just not good, like “The White Coated Man,” a screed against lab testing of animals (not a bad cause, mind you) and the bulk of the rest is just fair-to-middling. I do like “I Got Up” and “The Light Comes from Within,” both dust-yourself-off-and-get-back-up-on-the-horse ditties, and “B-Side to Seaside” (another previously released track, the [ahem] B-side to “Seaside Woman”), but at 16 tracks this album is a handful of tracks too many. It’s highly likely that this compilation consists of every single track Linda finished before her death, six months before Paulie first put out this collection.

Wide Prairie has a nice lightness to it, with humor abounding, and some nice cover versions (“Mister Sandman,” “Poison Ivy”), too. You even get two tracks that were co-produced by reggae legend Lee Perry (reggae is actually part of the foundation of this elpee)! Whether you care for Linda McCartney’s girlish singing (flawed but fun) or not, it’s not a bad record at all. It’s just not that great. As for the Macca collectors out there, they’ll want the milk/blue vinyl limited edition (may already be sold out), but there’s also a regular black vinyl version and a compact disc. However, there are no more tracks on this reissue than there were on the ’98 release, so you’re gonna have to be an accomplished aficionado to want to pick this version up.

2.5/5 (Capitol 7728542, 1998/2019)

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Peter Case • Wig! [CD, LP, DD]

[Review originally posted 8/6/2010 on Skratchdisc]

No, PETER CASE isn’t balding and trying out toupees. He’s got a new solo album out, and it’s a real corker (to use our Limey friends’ parlance). After a 2009 that saw Case go through heart surgery without insurance AND the release of 4 Case-related albums (things with The Nerves, The Plimsouls, et al.), the man recorded Wig! with DJ Bonebrake of X and some other friends. Just like most of his releases, it’s very heartfelt without being corny or doomy gloomy.

Perched somewhere between his mostly-solo albums (Sings Like Hell, et al.) and his band records (Six-Pack of Love), Wig! has a very bluesy vibe, yet it doesn’t use the usual 12-bar template. There’s a gutsy, smokey room feel, yeah, but Case’s lyrical observations, along with his band’s punk rock pedigree, make for songs and arrangements that mark this for solo album of 2010. It opens with “Banks of the River” and its swampy guitar and piano intro, followed by the more Chicago-bluesy “Dig What You’re Puttin’ Down.” If I told you there’s a bit of a John Fogerty thing going on here, too, would it keep you from checking it out? I hope not, because it’s just one of the many I could call up that span the album, yet this record is quintessential Peter Case. I read somewhere that this was a return to his Plimsouls past (and sadly I noted it in my new releases update a few weeks ago), and that couldn’t be more wrong. The closest it gets to that is a remake of “Old Blue Car,” which appeared on his first post-Plims LP. Wig! has a great feeling of hope to it, not in a hokey way, but in a more post-modern fragmented neo-traditionalist kinda way, like on “House Rent Jump” and its side two counterpart, “House Rent Party.”

In all, Wig! has all the elements that make a great Case for Peter. (Ah, crap, sorry about that.) Pick one up now…

4/5 (YepRoc YEP-2222, 2010)
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Katrina and the Waves • Katrina and the Waves [An Appreciation] [LP]

[This review was first published 7/7/2010 on Skratchdisc]

Those of you who already know me can blow me. ’Cuz I know what you’re thinking: “I always knew he was a pop wimp.” Well, I don’t care what you say because I’ve always loved this band, even before they had that ubiquitous pop hit 25 years ago with “Walking on Sunshine,” so there.

If there ever was a band with a sound that epitomizes what I’d call summer rock ’n’ roll, this is it. Anchored by Kimberley Rew’s muscular-yet-tuneful guitar and Katrina Leskanich’s hard-edged vocals, KATRINA AND THE WAVES’ [eponymous release] shot the band to #1 all over the globe. And though there was no followup hit as big as “Sunshine,” the album had at least five (5!) tunes that could’ve should’ve been hits. The 1985 album, released on Capitol Records and somehow so hard to find on CD today, was made up of songs that first showed up on the band’s two Canadian releases on Attic, Walking On Sunshine* (1983) and Katrina And The Waves 2 (1984). Some were re-recorded, some were bolstered by more guitar, horns or whatever, but almost all of ’em were brilliant. “Do You Want Crying?”—I can’t believe this jangle rock power pop epic didn’t make it to the top. “Red Wine and Whisky,” another brilliant tune. Wanna slow it down some? Then try Katrina’s blue-eyed soul on “The Sun Won’t Shine.” And don’t even get me started on “Going Down to Liverpool,” which most people know from the Bangles’ first album (but which was written by Rew)! Of course, no album is perfect. There are a coupla tunes here that have some pretty silly lyrics, and I don’t mean “fun” silly but more like “kinda dumb, really,” such as “Machine Gun Smith,” but when it comes along with quality hard pop like “Que Te Quiero,” you should be willing to forgive a little.

If you wanna go back a ways, those two Attic LPs are available separately on CGB (a tiny US independent) and as a 2fer on Canada’s BongoBeat. The first one contained a few great tunes that didn’t make any of their Capitol releases, most notably “Brown Eyed Son” and “Dancing Street,” while 2 had “Maniac House,” for 1. They’re a little thinner sounding, but you really get a feel for where the classics came from. And actually, if you wanna become a bona fide Waves scholar, you need to get Shock Horror! by The Waves (1983), recorded before they put Katrina’s name on the marquee. Also out now on CGB, this 8-song EP had the first versions of “Liverpool” and “Brown Eyed Son,” but also “I Caught the Milk Train” and “You Can’t Stand Next to Judie.” Rew was handling most of the lead vocals while Katrina sang along and played rhythm guitar, and the raw indie vibe is fully apparent and kinda kute. (The reissue CD has 4 bonus songs on it.) Finally, if Rew’s songwriting really floats your boat, besides his more recent solo releases, The Bible of Bop (again, on CGB) features songs he cut with The Waves, The Soft Boys (who he played with prior to mega stardom) and even The dB’s, such as “My Baby Does Her Hairdo Long,” “Nightmare,” and “Hey! War Pig.”

Alright now, back to the beginning. Go ahead, throw all the insults at me you can think of. I don’t care. I’ll stand by my appreciation of Katrina and the Waves until the end of time, and I will listen to their records until that scary man with the scythe comes knockin’ on my door, because every time I hear “Walking on Sunshine” I can let go of every freakin’ care I’ve ever had in the world and for three minutes just get carried away. And don’t it feel good!

* Now called Katrina and the Waves, in order to confuse and amuse.
5/5 (Katrina and the Waves [Capitol]; Katrina and the Waves, 3/5; Katrina and the Waves 2, 3/5; Shock Horror! 3/5; Bible of Bop, 4/5 [Attic/CGB])

And for those of you who weren’t around in the ’80s, here’s a bitchin’ video of Katrina and the Waves lip syncing their colossal hit, just to make you feel good!

 

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R.E.M. • In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988-2003 [2LP]

It’s easy for us old school R.E.M. fans to dismiss the post-IRS Records era of the band. Those fabled times were unique in our music experience: Band comes out of nowhere – that is, Athens Georgia – and takes over the college radio airwaves, steadily builds a fanbase with their amazing records and compelling yet elusive videos (you had to look pretty hard to find them at first), and eventually signs to a major label. It’s also easy to say, “they were better before they sold out,” but of course, most of us also realize that R.E.M. didn’t actually do that, since their label switch was on their own terms. Still, I definitely prefer the albums up through Document over the Green-and-on elpees. I certainly didn’t stop buying their albums, though, but aside from Automatic for the People, I’d rate the post-1988 albums lower than those before that.

One listen to In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988-2003 tells you that Buck/Mills/Stipe(/Berry) & Co. didn’t really lose the plot – they just matured and morphed into a different monster. Their sonic palette got bigger, better, engulfing the scruffy, indie R.E.M. they once were. In this later personae the band gave us epics like “Man on the Moon,” “The Great Beyond” and “Everybody Hurts,” as well as burners like “Bad Day” and the absolutely gorgeous “At My Most Beautiful.” Even the band doesn’t quite know how to sum it all up; Peter Buck wrote the liner notes to each song and he himself is frequently unsure what the songs mean or where they came from. But one thing is sure: R.E.M. weren’t even close to finished having something to say when the ink on the Warner Bros. Records contract had dried.

In Time was first released in 2003, available in a few different formats (including vinyl), but the 2LP version was hard to find. It’s now been reissued by Craft Recordings in a standard double black vinyl version and a blue colored set offered exclusively by Barnes & Noble. The mastering job on this reissue was done well, and it’s nice to have the 18 songs spread over two records. But I do have a minor issue with B&N’s colored vinyl: the transparent blue could’ve been matched better to the color of the blue moon on the cover. It plays and sounds lush, though, so don’t pay too much attention to that part of my critique. The takeaway from this review is that R.E.M. were one of the great American bands of the ‘80s and In Time is the perfect summation of their latter days.

4/5 (Craft Recordings CR00166, 2003/2019)

 

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Nick Lowe • Love Starvation/Trombone [CD, EP]

NICK LOWE has latched onto a new way of making records in the last few years, and it’s a method that suits him. Instead of waiting until he’s got an LP’s worth of tunes, Basher has been releasing EPs of whatever he deems ready to record. Love Starvation/Trombone is his latest, another 4-song affair recorded with Los Straitjackets and released by his American label Yep Roc.

What’s great to hear is that Lowe has also landed on the perfect latter-day band to collaborate with. Los Straitjackets, those guys with the gimmicky Mexican wrestler masks, provide an expertly empathetic two guitars, bass and drums backing to Nick’s rockabilly tinged pop tunes. They’ve now appeared as his band on a couple of Christmas records and last year’s Tokyo Bay EP. Like those efforts, there’s nothing too slick or too raw here, unless you count the studio-enhanced “horn section” on “Trombone,” the co-title tune that features a ’60s almost-Tijuana Brass arrangement. “Love Starvation” itself is a typically Nick mid tempo rocker with some witty words, while “Blue on Blue” is a sleeper of a slower “blues” song, with some of his greatest, latest lyrics, like “I can’t sleep for all the promises you don’t keep / I wanna run but I’m in too deep, too deep for blue on blue” and “In my mind I’m on the end of a ball of twine / that she jerks from time to time, time for blue on blue.” Finally, “Raincoat in the River” is a cover of an obscure 1960 Sammy Turner tune (produced by Phil Spector, later covered by Rick Nelson) that nicely defies its title with a happy story of a guy whose gal is coming back to him. The song really fits with the other three original Nick Lowe-penned songs, which is no surprise because that’s a skill that the man has had for decades, dating back to his days in Brinsley Schwarz and later with Dave Edmunds in Rockpile.

There’s no telling whether the tracks from this Love Starvation EP and the aforementioned Tokyo Bay will turn up on a long player, but it would be a pretty safe bet. I’m sure Lowe and the ’Jackets  have either recorded more than what they’ve let out or they’re cooking up more tasty treats while they tour the UK and US this summer.

3.5/5 (Yep Roc YEP-2646, 2019)

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Wreckless Eric • Transience [LP, CD]

Our boy WRECKLESS ERIC is on a tear with this, his second album in a year. Transience is its name and “if you think that what you see is what you get / you haven’t seen the half of it yet.”

Out on his own Southern Domestic label, this lo-fi release is a worthy sequel to last year’s killer Construction Time & Demolition. On that album Eric and his conspirators laid down practically off-the-cuff recordings of the man’s musings about where he came from, where he’s been to and where he was then at. Transience (“the state of lasting only for a short time”) finds Wreckless Eric doing the same, and still trying to shake off the adjectivity of his stage name – something he apparently has been working on for a long time. Yet, the very fact that the cuts on these two albums have such a ramshackle (but riveting) feel make the task of trying to shake the stage name’s burden a relatively unsuccessful venture. Luckily, no one picking up one of his albums is going to give a shit about whether he’s now or has ever been wreckless. People new to his stuff will only wonder slightly about where the name came from, and those of us who remember “Whole Wide World” and “Semaphore Signals” (among others) are fine with it. Seriously, Eric: who cares? We love the semi-shoddiness of your albums, your quirky wit and cynical view of (the whole wide) world. Transience contains sarcastic songs like “Creepy People (In the Middle of the Night)” where Eric talks about having a predilection for suffering and the drag of “taking it up the ass” (figuratively), “The Half of It,” which hooks into subject matter first sung about by Ray Davies of The Kinks and Eric’s contemporary (and former Stiff Records label-mate) Nick Lowe, and six more tunes that show he’s still… if not wreckless, definitely wry and feckless. And yet, he’s still capable of writing engaging songs about whatever strikes him: tiny houses, dead end streets (hello again, Kinks), indelible stains, whatever.

Working with Wreckless Eric this time are Steve Goulding (of The Rumour) on drums, amour Amy Rigby on piano and backing vocals, Cheap Trick’s Tom Petersson on the bass and Alexander Turnquist on 12-string. Transience has a full sounding, freckles ’n’ all vibe, with thick low end and raw guitar and organ that make for a fulfilling listen. I’m really digging his latest work and hope he not only tours the US again (saw him last year in Seattle), but maybe even with a full band. But whether he’s solo or accompanied, Wreckless Eric’s music is definitely worth delving into, if not devouring completely.

4/5 (Southern Domestic SD 008, 2019)

 

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Robyn Hitchcock • “Sunday Never Comes” b/w “Take Off Your Bandages” [7″]

This is getting to be a regular and welcome occurrence. ROBYN HITCHCOCK writes a couple of great songs, puts together an excellent band and records them, then treats us to a killer new 7″ single. In this case, Hitchcock recruited The Nashville Fabs, the very same group he took out on the road last fall, to accompany him. I saw them in Seattle at the Neptune Theater and it was a pretty good show, though the band was a little rough around the edges as it was the beginning of the tour. The Fabs apparently found their groove on “Sunday Never Comes” and its B-side because this slab o’ wax is definitely polished and ready for presentation.

Recorded in December 2018 and therefore a couple of months after I saw Rob & the Fabs, these two tracks show that the guys – handpicked by Hitchcock from players populating his current hometown of Nashville – are capable of heights only hinted at a couple of months earlier. Indeed, the members of the band have a pretty impressive collective pedigree so it’s not that surprising that “Sunday Never Comes,” a classic Robyn Hitchcock mid tempo groove, is such a satisfying record. The tunes sound similar to the arrangements on Robyn Hitchcock, RH’s eponymous release from 2017 (I reviewed it here), a fairly spare four-piece (two guitars, bass, drums) affair that recalled the records he made with The Egyptians in the ’80s. What’s decidedly different is that Hitchcock has mostly moved on from writing about animals, insects and frogs (though they weren’t so much the subject matter as the vessels for transport), and his arrangements lack a lot of the superfluous gloss. The A-side was written for the film Juliet Naked and had only been available as a demo for download (see the video below for what that sounds like; it’s quite nice played solo!), while “Take Off Your Bandages” is “a psychedelic manifesto for the current era, inspired by the activism of the students at [Marjorie] Stoneman Douglas High School.” Indeed, both songs have a psychy edge to them, as if The Egyptians were imported from their sarcophagi, sans the trappings of late Eighties record production. Quite fabulous, I must say.

The 7″ single – available only through Hitchcock’s website – is limited to a thousand copies and comes in a nice picture sleeve. You also get downloads of the two songs, plus a longer version of the B-side. In all, an enjoyable seven or eight minutes and hopefully a harbinger of things to come.

3.5/5 (Tiny Ghost TG-02, 2019)

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Devo • Turn Around: B-Sides & More (1978-1984) [LP]

Limited to just 3,256 copies, the latest Run Out Groove release is a collection of semi-rarities from Akron’s finest, DEVO. Turn Around: B-Sides & More (1978-1984) features fifteen tracks on one slice of tomato red marbled vinyl and is something for the devotee who must have everything. I say this because most of the tracks here will be on the hardcore Devo collector’s record shelf and so this limited edition release would be superfluous if it weren’t for the album’s own likely future rarity.

About half of the tracks on Turn Around are B-sides, such as the title track, “Social Fools,” “Penetration in the Centrefold” and “Growing Pains.” A bunch more are remixes, either for single release or as extended mixes, such as “Snowball (Remix),” “Through Being Cool (Dance Velocity)” and my favorite, “That’s Good [extended version].” And then there’s “Working in a Coal Mine,” which is here presumably because it was originally released as a bonus 7″ single that came with the New Traditionalists vinyl album. It’s not very rare, at least not like “Mecha-Mania Boy,” which was the B-side to “Jerkin’ Back and Forth” and is new to me. (I’m not as hardcore as some Devo fans, for sure.)

Turn Around’s fifteen tracks make for an enjoyable listen, yes, and though it’s running time may seem a bit long for a one record set, the mastering job is good and the record itself was pressed at Record Industry in the Netherlands. Mine’s got some surface noise between tracks but that will presumably wear away after a few listens. The cover is definitely of a 1980 vibe, with a painting that looks like something from a 1930s WPA billboard (not counting the energy domes) and was “adopted for commercial release,” whatever that means. To purchase Turn Around – paraphrasing from “Nu-tra Speaks” – “…is not like spending money, but rather it is an investment in the future and a blow against the empire.” Or something.

3/5 (Run Out Groove ROGV-043, 2019)

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Alex Chilton • From Memphis to New Orleans, Songs from Robin Hood Lane [CD, LP]

Here are a couple of “reissues” from our favorite Big Star, ALEX CHILTON. Both From Memphis to New Orleans and Songs from Robin Hood Lane are compilations of previously released Chilton material, chosen thematically or chronologically to fit together nicely. It’s an interesting way to do it – take the best tracks of an era, for instance – and create one superior compilation, instead of reissue the entire albums or EPs themselves. Especially since Chilton’s discography is a little spotty during his solo years, this may be the best way to find the choice chunks of his solo stuff.

From Memphis to New Orleans pulls primarily from Alex’s mid-to-late 1980s releases Feudalist Tarts, No Sex and Black List. Those first two came out in the States on now defunct Big Time Records, and they were a comeback of sorts for Chilton. Buoyed by some great R&B cover songs (hence this new album’s title), this compilation is a gas. Not only do you get “B-A-B-Y” and “Thank You John,” a couple of horns-laden ditties, you also get Chilton originals like “No Sex,” “Lost My Job” and “Underclass,” the former being Alex’s humorous look at the calamities that were affecting people’s sex lives in the mid ’80s (when AIDS was still new and not at all understood) and the latter two funny, bluesy stabs at the kind of lifestyle our hero was leading at that point in his life. Chilton’s arrangements are really good ’n’ raw – definitely not the clichéd kind of slick ’80s production that would be a turn-off to fans of Chilton’s revered band, Big Star – and are part of why most of these songs stand up to the test of time. This one’s worth picking up.

Songs from Robin Hood Lane, on the other hand, isn’t a no-brainer. While the idea of Alex Chilton belting out selections from the “classic American songbook” might sound good on paper, the recorded results indicate that that doesn’t always translate to analog tape. Chilton’s unschooled, technically imprecise singing is a benefit when he’s doing rock, blues and R&B, but in this genre his slightly wavering vocals often miss the mark. In fact, there are a few clams here that would have never made the grade on a Frank Sinatra or Ella Fitzgerald record. I’m talking about seriously wrong notes. Granted, in 2019, with the truckload of artists who have extended their careers by releasing CDs of standards, the burnout factor for this kind of enterprise is high. At the time he recorded these (primarily the early ’90s), his Medium Cool and Clichés releases may have been fun curveballs to throw at a party (and the title of the latter was definitely a home run), but today they’re practically superfluous to Chilton’s discography. The arrangements themselves are spare and pretty listenable, yes, but Alex the singer is out of his depth here. I mean, kudos to him for giving it a go, but I prefer it when Alex Chilton stuck to what he did best: rock ’n’ roll.

3/5, 2/5 (Bar None BRN-CD-258 & BRN-CD-259, 2019)

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Jarvis Cocker • Further Complications [CD, LP]

[Originally published 2/15/2010 on Skratchdisc]

The eagle-eyed, front-of-mind of you will note that JARVIS COCKER’s Further Complications came out way back in June 2009. Yes, I’m playing a little ketchup here. And that’s partly because when this came out I didn’t really give it much of a chance, just kind of assuming I’d like it because I like Pulp – JC’s band of Different Class and This Is Hardcore fame – and Cocker put on a helluva show here in Seattle in support of his first solo record, Jarvis.

Good news: I was right. I do like it. But not exactly for the reasons stated above. It turns out that Further Complications is more of a rock ’n’ roll record than Cocker’s ever done. As it says in the notes, Tim Call plays guitar in the right speaker and Martin Craft does in the left; I wouldn’t be surprised if these were the same blokes Jarvis had with him on tour, because these songs definitely have more of an edge than you’d expect. Or is it because the disc was recorded by noiseo/icon Steve Albini? I suppose that’s where these songs get their sort of dry, “just the facts, m’am” vibe.

Finally, there’s the lyrics. Also dry. For instance: ““In the beginning there was nothing/and to be honest that suited me just fine.” Or: “I met her in the Museum of Paleontology/And I make no bones about it.” Or: “I never said I was deep but I am profoundly shallow/My lack of knowledge is vast and my horizons are narrow.” Okay, sure, out of context these sound like Groucho Marx leftovers, but in the context of a Jarvis Cocker song, you’ve got some great stuff here. All in all the songs are pretty good and the arrangements are snappy. And yet, I think his first solo disc may be the better of the two… Or is that just because “Cunts Are Still Running the World”* is so great that it’s gonna be awhile before Jarvis betters it?
4/5 (Rough Trade RTRADCD 540, 2009)  

[* Buried on the final track of Jarvis; also available as a download single.]

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