THE FUTURE SOUND OF LONDON
Dead Cities (Astralworks)
FSOL’s constant fiddling with the clickbeep aspects of electronic/ambient
dance music has led me to think of them as a bunch of knobs. Their grey, eerie
soundscapes call up unbidden images of dead cities, thick with a patina of
futurist grime and William Gibson technowaste. Making this sort of densehead
music palatable to the masses was never their forte, though. Hardly. This is
the mid-to-late Nineties sonic equivalent of The Wall, best listened to
at terrifically loud levels, outside, stark naked, in the midst a driving
rainstorm, or in the bedroom, candles all aflame, over some very expensive
headphones. Either way, the rush FSOL provides is the same as the first time
you read Gibson, saw Blade Runner, or spun out on 2222, headlights
strobing everything into a luscious, deadly blur.
(3.0 stars) — Marc Savlov
HARDHOP + TRYPNO V.2
(Moonshine)
Twenty years after the fact, Gene Simmons is still fighting the bad fight.
Asked by Entertainment Weekly to name the worst thing about ’96, the
resurgent Kisser wittily denounced “The Macarena and all disco music,”
reminding us that American rock’s self-confidence still hasn’t recovered from
that moment in the late Seventies when gay black men threatened to take over
popular music. So pull on your Underworld concert T, comb out your Chemical
Brothers-style muttonchops, dye your hair green just like that guy from the
Prodigy, and let’s perform a dance celebrating the return of the repressed
straightboy to the deejay booth. The music? Why, the party-hearty Hardhop +
Trypno v.2 compilation, of course, a handy snapshot of the breakbeat scene
that’s even pulled so swarthy a representative of rock culture as Noel
Gallagher into the orbit of club music. The Brit and U.S. artists included may
or may not be straight (only their hairdressers know for sure), but their beats
come dressed up in the sort of raucous trappings that still scream
fratboy to me. Fatboy Slim all but offers a genre manifesto in the title
“Punk to Funk,” and the CD opens with some sampled blues harmonica from Hard
Knox. You see a pattern here — Hard Knox, Hardhop? This music is hard dammit — and manly — and don’t you forget it. And hey, Gene, what kind of
real man wears makeup, anyway?
(3.0 stars) — Jeff Salamon
SPACE
Spiders (Universal)
Bad form, reviewing an album directly after seeing the band live. In the case
of Space, witnessing these cruddy, beaming little Scousers reconstruct their
batty, sample-riddled pop debut neither distracts nor sways the critic. If
anything, their show provides a spark of clarity in the sonic pandemonium.
Foremost, we learn that the reasons for the brake-squealing halt, which
Spiders comes to after the first five creepy-cool songs (including U.K.
hits “Female of the Species” and “Me and You Versus the World”) are two
discrete songwriters. Tonight, Tommy, the wee one with the conspiratorial
whisper and Vegas finger-point raps, croons and lets his nutter tales of serial
killers, big butch queens, Manson, and Huckleberry Hound run amok. The other
singer, Jamie, who may or may not still be in the band, and is not touring as
he’s “not well,” was not missed as he’s the embarrassingly unironic Killjoy
responsible for the non-hits. We could not, however, live without the wizard of
the Seven Keyboards, Franny, who provides the faux trumpet, Theremin, string,
and Moog sounds that give this otherwise simple, eccentric pop record its
cinematic scope.
(3.5 stars) — Mindy LaBernz
REDD KROSS
Show World (This Way Up/Mercury)
It took a few listens to Imperial Teen’s Seasick before I figured out
why I liked it so much: Steve McDonald. Along with his brother Jeff, McDonald
has been sticking pink gooey gobs of bubblegum pop to the underside of kiddie
punk and KISS rock since 1980 when he was barely 13 and Jeff was just a few
inches older. Producing Roddy Bottum’s side project then, was perfect. Who
better to wad together melody and muscle without losing that delicious
nonsensical flavor? Redd Kross’ first album in four years isn’t nearly that
yummy, but it is sweeter than their last, Phaseshifter, and crunchier
than the one before that, Third Eye. Things don’t really jel ’til the
Stones’ riffs in “Follow the Leader,” song eight, and at 13 tunes, Show
World could’ve used a tighter edit; “Girl God,” “Teen Competition,” and
“Get Out of Myself” might as well be the cardboard gum from your Wacky Packs.
Still, the Rocky Horror Picturesque “Secret Life” is perfectly pleasing
pop pomp, while “Pretty Please Me,” “Kiss the Goat,” and the unlisted “Sick
Love” (about model narcissism) pack a nice Hawaiian punch. This ain’t the
Seasick Redd Kross undoubtably has in ’em, but until someone reissues
Neurotica, it’ll float.
(3.0 stars) — Raoul Hernandez
SIXTEEN DELUXE
The Pilot Knob E.P. (Genius)
Whoa. Seems everyone forgot about this baby as soon as Sixteen Deluxe signed
to Warner Bros. In fact, if I hadn’t stumbled across it in a used CD bin, we
wouldn’t be having this conversation. Nevertheless, The Pilot Knob E.P. belongs not with the discards, but rather with two early ’97 local releases —
Spoon’s Soft Effects EP and Furry Things’ hedfones. While it
doesn’t mark a leap forward for Sixteen Deluxe like the other two EPs do for
their respective groups, you’ll most certainly want to seek it out if you were
razzle-dazzled by 16D’s Trance Syndicate debut, Backfeed Magnetbabe.
Like that album, this 26-minute prize is all fuzz and circumstance, reverbing
loudly with a dizzying giddiness. First and foremost on these counts is the
opener, “Happy Song,” which kicks like a bazooka full of lead confetti, seguing
into one of the band’s best songs, “Reactive” — not the same version as their
Propellor 45, but similar. Ray Davies’ “Too Much On My Mind” is a strange but
welcome surprise, though truly left-field would be a cover of “There He Goes,”
the EP’s melancholy Velvet Underground highpoint and a version to make Patsy
Cline smile. (Genius Records, P.O. Box 481052, Los Angeles, CA 90048)
(3.0 stars) — Raoul Hernandez
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND
Loaded (Rhino)
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the Velvet Underground, who saw more of their material released in the 5-CD box
set Peel Slowly and See than during their original five-year lifespan,
the appearance of their last album, Loaded, is nothing short of
revolutionary. When it first appeared in 1970, Loaded seemed fatuous and
lame, a mere afterthought to a once-great band’s oeuvre; The VU that recorded
Loaded was a fragmented group, with the Warhol association severed, John
Cale replaced by Doug Yule, Moe Tucker on maternity leave during the sessions,
and Sterling Morrison already leaning toward going back to school. It appeared
less the culmination of the group’s history than the blueprint for Lou Reed’s
solo career. It’s the passage of time, however, that reveals Loaded to
be a tremendously important album. In this 2-CD reissue, the pop gloss of “Who
Loves the Sun” and “I Found a Reason” contrast nicely with the nascent “Sweet
Jane” and seminal “Rock & Roll,” while “Head Held High” and “Train Round
the Bend” define the VU’s rock perimeters. Six additional tracks are featured
on the first CD, some of which were included on Peel Slowly while the
second disc, 17 alternate takes, demos, and various other tracks follow
Loaded‘s original order (including a take of “Ocean” with the banished
Cale and a pre-Transformer “Satellite of Love”). Frankly, most of the
latter under the necessary aegis of “fans only” even if it offers insight to
the thread of developing sound. Loaded was uneven, but its brilliance,
27 years after it was first released to little or no attention, is still
blindingly apparent.
(4.5 stars) — Margaret Moser
WHEN WE WERE KINGS
(DAS/Mercury)
With the 1974 “Rumble in the Jungle,” the
basis for the documentary
When We Were Kings, Muhammed Ali not only battles George Foreman in
Zaire, he also carries with him an impressive caravan of Seventies soul
stalwarts — among them, James Brown, B.B. King, Bill Withers, and the
Spinners. The resulting live performances, captured here with equally
captivating pre-rap soundbites by Ali, are simply remarkable — not just
musically, but also for how well they mirror the movie’s central theme of
mutual respect. In the film, Ali learns as much from Africa as Africa learns
from Ali. On the soundtrack, that give-and-take is between a boisterous crowd
of concert virgins and a roster of established stars otherwise notorious for
sleepwalking through performances. So although King and Brown weigh in with the
most outwardly urgent tracks, it’s the crowd and the performers’ own energetic
paybacks that make each and every one of these live tracks both raw and
inspirational — a texture only the Fugees’ raucous “Rumble in the Jungle”
manages to recreate in the set’s three new tracks. Even with those added
distractions, however, When We Were Kings still flows like Ali in his
prime.
(3.5 stars) — Andy Langer
MANDELA ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK
(Mango/Island)
The soundtrack accompanying a yet-to-be-released documentary on the most
important figure in 20th century South African history, Mandela Original
Soundtrack bears a telling subtitle: “The Essential Music of South Africa.”
Plainer language couldn’t be written about this album’s intent, as it samples
50-some-odd years’ worth of this nation’s popular tunes, encompassing native
big band hits with a harder and sprightlier swing than their Western
counterparts, some rhythm & blues bearing similar qualities, as well as
contemporary sounds more familiar to Western ears like Hugh Masekela or Johnny
Clegg and Savuka. What marks all these tracks is an accent that’s unmistakably
South African. It’s hard to finger it, but there’s an elusive lilt, a swing, a
certain melodic and rhythmic signature, all of which are instantly
identifiable. Mandela Original Soundtrack is important, in that like
The Harder They Come soundtrack, it may serve as a handy introduction
for American and European ears to an alien-yet-vital musical culture.
(4.0 stars) — Tim Stegall
MC OVERLORD
The Dark Side (Lordship)
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Hammer than Public Enemy. But with The Dark Side, a thematic self-help
treaty, Overlord has found some muscle, if not musically, at least with his
flow. Here, his delivery has been nicely streamlined into a more literate
Schooly D rhythm, which works most effectively against the funkier drums and
bass of the Brannen Temple/Yogi Mussgrove-driven tracks. In fact, those
efforts, like the caustic “Get Used To It,” are clearly Overlord’s best work to
date, firmly establishing the comfort, style, substance, and poignancy he’s
always hinted at. And while he still doesn’t fare well in his subsequent
battles with an overwrought pseudo-soul backing, Overlord wordplay typically
wins out over the otherwise cliched hooks — declaring in one of his better
runs, “the virus called AIDS is the plague of the era/you still gettin’ laid
like they made it up to scare ya.” Now, perhaps, falling into a musical groove
he can live with is just the matter of a little outside production help, which
could mean Overlord’s just one step away from both finding focus and finding
himself a legitimate national contender.
(3.0 stars) — Andy Langer
ELLERY ESKELIN
The Sun Died (Soul Note)
Like the Chicago tenor this recording compliments, Ellery Eskelin blows fat
and blustery all over The Sun Died. Recording an homage to Gene Ammons
makes perfect sense for Eskelin. Ammons was a muscular, post-bop blower with a
death-lock on the blues, paying no mind as his soul-tinged successes alienated
the jazz purists. Eskelin, a fierce, Manhattan-based modernist, slides into
Ammon’s melodic domain nicely, nailing his slippery tone with distinction,
while Marc Ribot’s jittery guitar clusters and Mark Wollesen’s artillery drums
provide unconventional, and phenomenal, backup. Eskelin spent his early years
performing with Joey Baron, Ray Anderson, Joe Lovano, Paul Motian, and many
others of similar stature, putting in his time with the group Joint Venture
before embarking on his own. The Sun Died, his sixth album, zig-zags
through Ammon’s long career with aplomb and intensity, interspersing classics
like “Twistin’ the Jug” and “Seed Shack” with obscure treasures; every
selection on the album sings. The purists might hate it, but Jug would have
stood and applauded.
(4.5 stars) — Jeff McCord
This article appears in February 21 • 1997 and February 21 • 1997 (Cover).