AKA some stuff not worthy of their own page
The B-52’s- Cosmic Thing
The Cars- Complete Greatest Hits
Phil Collins- ...Hits
Doobie Brothers- Greatest Hits
Fleetwood Mac- Rumours
Billy Joel- An Innocent Man
Meat Loaf- Bat Out Of Hell
Steve Miller- Greatest Hits 1974-78
Milli Vanilli- All Or Nothing
Tom Petty- Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' Greatest Hits
The Sex Pistols- Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols
Paul Simon- Graceland
1999
Does anyone admit to listening to ABBA, the biggest musical export from Sweden since Blue Swede? Certainly they have a lot going against them as a group. They are nothing more than pure pop, with heavy emphasis on production, melodies, and hooks. They are not one for rocking out, at least not on this CD. And they have tunes that come off as sweet or gimmicky to most. And up until I got this CD at a library, I cringed at the thought of ABBA. But now I have a little more respect for Agnetha, Frida, Bjorn, and Benny. They know how to write songs that get under your skin.
Everyone knows their huge 1976 chart-topper “Dancing Queen,” and it makes sense. This is where their production and shrill vocals immerse you, the listener. Sometimes it gets to me, other times it’s so sugary I feel like brushing my teeth afterwards. It ain’t my favorite, in other words. I prefer their lesser hit “Take a Chance on Me,” an awesome multipart tune with an awesome a cappella intro. Another well-known classic is the bouncy-as-heck “Waterloo,” which I dig as well. The ballad “The Winner Takes it All” also hit the top 10, deservedly so. The dour piano line kills me every time, but the disco beats almost ruin the song, coming in halfway through the song.
“S.O.S.” and “Money Money Money” are similar pop tunes, but I tend to prefer the former with its melancholy verses and happy chorus. What am I saying, that’s an ABBA formula! Well, “S.O.S.” is the perfect example. “Mamma Mia” is another pop tune that goes through several poppy sections and makes me tap my head like a clown. Slightly weaker is the silly disco “Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)” and the jailbait rejection “Does Your Mother Know.” At least “Gimme” is fun enough and “Mother” has a cool sound that overrides the lyrics.
The ultimate ABBA song? My favorite ABBA tune? Not “Dancing Queen” or “Waterloo” or “Knowing Me, Knowing You.” It’s by far “Fernando.” Everything about it is great, with the gentle fade-in intro with flutes and soft march-drumming. Like “Waterloo,” the lyrics deal with a historical event (Mexican freedom fighters), more explicitly than “Waterloo.” The verses, as usual, are reflective and neat. But that chorus. Damn, that chorus. So uplifting and fresh, with the same reflection as the choruses. Man, what an all-around perfect pop tune.
The other nine tracks? They don’t do much for me. Either that or I can only take so much Abba. “Super Trouper” is lame and both “Name of the Game” and “Knowing Me, Knowing You” don’t impress me as much as they do everyone else. Elsewhere, you got generic disco (“Voulez Vous,” “Lay All Your Love on Me”), unappealing ballads (“Chiquitita,” “One of Us”) and overblown statements (“I Have a Dream,” “Thank You For the Music”). Now, I’m not going to get any other ABBA album, but at least I can appreciate their very high quality of pop. Even if I only really like half the tunes on here, a 7 it gets as nothing is flat out awful. Still, good for ABBA. Thanks for proving me wrong.
1989
Oh, this one has nostalgia for me. This album was pretty big with my family at the time, my parents as well as my hipper older brother. Personal recollections aside, this album was the Fiftee Toos’ catapult into mainstream, with Don Was and Nile Rodgers taking the production reins. They trade in some of their spontaneous sound, present in their first singles, for some great pop hooks. Plus, it was their first album since the passing of their guitarist, adding some poignancy to the set.
Even though this was the band that burned the dance floor with “Private Idaho” and “Rock Lobster,” the dance tunes on Cosmic are not your best bets. Maybe extra production makes them sound more controlled and laboured. The title track is a good representative, as well as being a rather dumb song. “Love Shack” was the biggie, of course, and I’ve heard it enough from back in the day and at dances. But again, it doesn’t SOUND all that fun if you’re just listening to it. “Junebug” is the best of the lot, with a strange vibe and Schneider’s most amusing wailings on the album.
Don’t you worry, they don’t let us down with the poppier songs. “Roam” was the other huge hit, and is one of my favorite pop songs of that icky late ‘80s-early ‘90s epoch. What a great melody, what great harmonizing by the girls. “Deadbeat Club” and “Bushfire” aren’t as amazing, but still pretty good. What a great album ending too: “Topaz” is friggin’ gorgeous, colored by some Chic-like rhythm guitar lines (zat you, Nile??), and the following instrumental “Follow Your Bliss” is what those Pet Sounds instrumentals should have sounded like. Nice guitar there as well. Hey, if you can’t stand Schneider at all, you’ll love these five songs; he doesn’t say much there.
Other tracks not fitting either category include the darker “Channel Z,” in which they protest against...politics? TV? The radio? Not too sure. I hope there wasn’t a really serious message, Schneider’s silly rants (‘Space junk...where’s my umbrella?!’) would detract from it. “Dry County” is my dark horse favorite, as they effectively convey sticky summer-y feel, and use some falsetto Mick Jagger sample that sources say is from “Miss You,” but it sounds more like “Emotional Rescue” to me. I don’t know.
Cosmic Thing stands the test of time, surprisingly, considering its epoch of 1989 and 1990. It’s just a collection of solid pop songs plus a few dance tunes that you may have more tolerance for than myself. But no matter. If you know the band only for “Rock Lobster” and ‘that gay-sounding Fred dude,’ Cosmic might make you rethink that. Maybe.
2002
As seen on TV! In the ‘70s and ‘80s, no band better merged the edgy new-wave sound with guitar-oriented AOR than the Cars. OK, maybe the Talking Heads. But the Cars had more initial success. Their first two albums alone had a whole bunch of songs that are still on classic rock radio rotations. By the ‘80s, they tended to follow more than innovate, and that results in their output dating rather quickly. But they had a skilled keyboardist in Greg Hawkes, and a cool-as-a-cucumber vocalist in Ric Ocasek. Actually, several songs are handled by bassist Ben Orr, but I can’t really tell the voices apart. Anyway, all the radio standards and non-hit singles are here. I think.
Their 1978 self-titled debut must have been great, because a whopping six selections here are from the album. All guitar-rock with new-wave elements, these apparently were all over the airwaves. We all know their first hit “Just What I Needed” (with Orr on vocals!), and some know the hand-clapping “Best Friends Girl” and the ice-cool “Good Times Roll.” But not many know the underrated “You’re All I Got Tonight,” which is just as cool as any of the above. “Bye Bye Love” is the weakest here, no killer hook. The atmospheric “Moving in Stereo” probably took off when it was used in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, where Judge Reinhold, er, fantasizes over Phoebe Cates in the swimming pool. Huh huh, uh huh huh.
From 1979’s Candy-O comes the absolutely awesome “Let’s Go” (I like the nightlife, baby!), an amusing mid-tempo “It’s All I Can Do,” and the forgettable “Dangerous Type.” Any of these could have fit in on their debut album, and I heard both albums were verrry similar.
Then they stalled with 1980’s Panorama, where the 100% new-wave “Touch and Go” wasn’t a big hit. Too bad, it’s my favorite Cars tune right now. Hawkes’ keyboard riff sounds like a precursor to the Police’s “Spirits in the Material World,” and the rhythm is really disjointed in the verses. The chorus is even better as a rockabilly guitar is added to the proceedings. It doesn’t have much commercial, but the hooks slowly grab you and it’s all worth your while.
Shake It Up came out a year later and the Cars continued down the new-wave path, especially on the good-time title track. Ocasek’s Dylan-ish intonations on “Since You’re Gone” make the song for me, and “I’m Not The One” is an OK ballad that is a bit excessive on the production.
Speaking of which, the production sure changed on 1984’s Heartbeat City. The legendary fussy producer Mutt Lange hopped aboard, and the sound is more pristine but dated “You Might Think” is better remembered for its clever video, but I tend to prefer the even catchier anthemic tune “Magic.” “Hello Again” goes too far in it’s upbeat cheesiness, down to the reverse echo at the beginning. “Drive” is handled by Ben Orr, and it’s one of their best ballads (and biggest hits) ever. Listen to it on headphones. You’ll catch some effects you couldn’t on the radio. “Why Can’t I Have You” is much a weaker ballad, tainted by awkward effects.
Then it closes with the non-album “Tonight She Comes,” which is so dang cheesy-happy I can’t help but like it. “You Are the Girl” came off their 1987 flop Door to Door, and sounds a bit resigned for an up-tempo tune. Sort of going out with a whimper, but it happens when ‘greatest hits’ albums go in chronological order. I still enjoy this album and recommend it to casual Cars fans like myself.
1998
Hoo boy...Phil Collins. Adult Contemporary Extraordinaire. Not a popular man in the Web Reviewing community, even though fellow ex-Genesis member Tony Banks has received more lumps. Ever since I’ve been exposed to his career low “You’ll Be in My Heart” played everyday either at Albertsons (my old job) or my Dad, my opinion of him has soured a bit. But unexpected sources claim Phil as their favorite artist, from ESPN personality Chris Berman to a friend of mine who had a crush on him, of all things.
Going through his Hits, what do I like? Well, I actually am fond of “Easy Lover,” a hit duet with Phil Bailey of Earth, Wind and Fire. It’s actually kind of fun and sort of melodic, within ‘80s reason. And the fact that was kept out of #1 by one of the worst songs in the history of music, Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is,” adds sympathy points. “Two Hearts” is one of his more acceptable Motown rave-ups. The gloomy, raving “In The Air Tonight” is a tune I like more every time I hear it. And that ‘drowning man’ myth is int’resting. And “Take Me Home” has a nice anthemic (again in an ‘80s way) feel.
What’s merely OK? Chris Berman’s fave track “Both Sides of the Story” is a bit angrier than usual, but was out of its time in 1993. “Dance Into the Light” tries some ethnic offbeats and is fine. The Cyndi Lauper cover “True Colors” is pointless but inoffensive. “Something Happened on the Way to Heaven” might be exciting musically, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a song with as many lyrical clich鳮 “Another Day in Paradise” is only slightly better than the following A/C dreck.
I have no use for ANY of his A/C excursions: “Against All Odds,” “One More Night,” “Separate Lives,” and “Groovy Kind of Love” (taking a silly, dated Brit-invasion hit and doing it straight-faced? NO!). All readymade for the prom, although I’ve danced to much worse songs during j/h and h/s. How can anyone defend “Sussudio” for ripping off Prince and being nonsensical? How can anyone prefer his sweetly cloying remake of the Supremes? magnificent “You Can’t Hurry Love” to the original? AND HOW COME HE RIPPED OFF “WISH YOU WERE HERE” ON “I WISH IT WOULD RAIN DOWN”??? I’m no Pink Floyd nut, but that still makes me mad
Oh well, his music may resonate with some people, and he certainly knows how mass appeal. But this collection could have been better, as it omits the edgy “I Don’t Care Anymore” and low-quality guilty pleasures like the cutesy “I Missed Again” and the processed “Don’t Lose My Number.” A 5 for this.
1976
So....which Doobie you be?? Hahahaha! The funniest line from What’s Happenin?, and Rerun didn’t even say it!! A little history on the Doobie Brothers: they were had two phases. Phase 1: Their well-known boogie-rock phase (1972-1975), which is my personal favorite. Much of this is represented on this album, fortunately. Phase 2: Their Michael McDonald R&B phase (1976-1979) that spawned their biggest hit in “What a Fool Believes.” Not my cup’o tea, but only two of those tunes are present on this early greatest hits collection, and neither is “Fool.”
As I said before, I enjoy much of the Doobies’ output on Phase 1. Most of it is great boogie-rock with a touch of blues, and great vocals courtesy of Tom Johnston. I mean, all those radio hits! They are all awesome! “Jesus is Just Alright” takes the Byrds tune and brightens it a shade, “Listen to the Music” is high-quality pop tune about music cheering you up, and “Long Train Runnin” was the funkiest they ever got at the time. “Rockin’ Down the Highway” and “China Grove”? They just flat-out rock, and that’s all I’ll say there.
“Black Water” did give them a #1, but the Doob’s took a different approach to that one. This acoustic swamp tune is laid-back and the harmonies rule (especially the intertwining melodies on the tail end; it makes that of “Silly Love Songs” seemed forced). “Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me)” wasn’t a huge hit, but they took an old Motown obscurity and Doobified it up perfectly. The only weak spots during this phase is the mediocre ballad “South City Midnight Lady” and the unfocused rocker “Without You.” Or am I only putting them down cuz they weren’t radio hits? I dunno.
By 1976, Tom Johnston was ailing and eventually left the band. So in comes ex-Steely Dan keyboardist Michael McDonald, who turned the Doobie Brothers into white R&B. The change itself wasn’t so drastic, but if only Michael didn’t sing. I’m sorry, but his voice is so easy to mock. I think Steve of Steve and Abe’s Record Reviews puts it best: ‘you have to admire the San Francisco scene…where else would a guy with no teeth get to be a lead singer?’ Despite this, I do enjoy the soulful “Takin’ It To The Streets” and the keyboard-laced “It Keeps You Runnin.”
And that’s where the collection ends. We don’t have to put up with the chart-topping “What a Fool Believes.” I must say that chord change before the chorus is amazing, but Michael’s vocals and the disco feel turns me off. The group dissolved, and only McDonald had a successful solo career. But let’s not forget they left us with some undeniable classics that still sound great on the radio.
1977
Here’s the deal. Right now I really should be working on my 10-page final due in a week and a half. Right now I could average a page a day, unless I get really inspired. For these reasons and for others, I been taking a long time to update. hopefully by mid-May I’ll start updating like crazy. For now I’ll settle on a quickie review of Rumours, one of the most famous pop albums ever. Much has been said about it, how half the album songs were all over 1977 airwaves, and how so much came from so many internal tensions. But since I should save some energy for the paper, let’s get to the music, eh?
Four songs off here made the Top 10 in ‘77, and I’ll only briefly mention them, since you all know ‘em already. Their lone #1 was Stevie Nicks’ dreamy (sorry) “Dreams,” just as good as/better than “Rhiannon.” Lindsey Buckingham’s “Go Your Own Way” is top-notch ‘70s pop-rock, the kind that gives it a good name. Christine McVie’s “Don’t Stop” now brings to mind President Clinton’s campaign, but it’s still a catchy-ask-heck, optimistic tune. “You Make Loving Fun” is another McVie tune, leaning towards disco, but is as slick and commercial as the rest.
Any of the rest of the tunes could have been overplayed on ‘70s radio too. Well, maybe not Buckingham’s lightweight “Second Hand News” or his acoustic “Never Going Back Again.” Or maybe so. Anyway, they’re good tunes, if the former is a bit silly. Stevie Nicks comes up with the lengthy “Gold Dust Woman,” which has a good atmosphere but not as good as “Dreams.” Her other tune “I Don’t Want to Know” gets slammed for no good reason. It’s perfectly catchy pop! Even if I mistook it for another Buckingham song at first. Christine McVie’s ballads “Songbird” and “Oh Daddy” are no favorites of mine, though it’s probably not my type’o music.
That leaves my favorite track on here, that I know still gets some radio airplay despite not being a single. That would be the group composition “The Chain,” a brooding stomper, atypical of anything else on here. You can feel their personal tensions in their three-part harmonies, and the chorus is one of FM’s best. A little more of these would have helped Rumours. But I don’t feel bad about giving it an 8, because no songs are outright bad. Even McVie’s ballads could have been much worse. Ever heard “Got a Hold On Me”? Don’t.
1977
Say now, why am I reviewing Billy Joel? The smarmy Long Island guy who crashed his auto-mobile? I’m familiar with most of his hits, but this is the only album I’ve heard enough to write a sufficient review. Obviously Billy is going for a retro sound on An Innocent Man, but with still some shreds of his balladeer persona. It worked, it’s one of his most hit-laden albums of his career.
How many hits, ask you? Six, technically. The most well-known is probably the Four Seasons facsimile “Uptown Girl,” which is a pretty damn good facsimile, just not something I enjoy listening to that much (NOTE: do those ‘uptown girl/she’s been LIVING in her’ chord progressions not sound like part of “Bolero”? Discuss). The #1 “Tell Her About It” is more enjoyable, with a wonderfully unexpected melodic shift from the verses to the chorus. Another goodie is “The Longest Time,” which garnered a huge cult following among my high school choir cronies, being an a cappella song and all.
Lesser hits include the ballad “Leave a Tender Moment Alone,” distinguished only by some blues harp ravings. I prefer “Keeping the Faith,” which has ‘50s sentiment but a modern reggae beat. The title track is pure Billy, no retro here, and is a bit overblown. However, I’ve heard it played at our minor league hockey arena when an Idaho Steelhead player is placed in the penalty box. That’s creativity, right there!
Which leaves the other four, which are mostly OK. Except the overly cutesy “Careless Talk,” (‘careless talk/talky talky!’) where that retro vibe takes a turn for the worst. The movie theme “Easy Money” is upbeat but empty, it just sounds right for a flop Dangerfield-Pesci flick titled Easy Money. I guess the rave-up “Christie Brinkley,” er, “Christie Lee” and the Beethoven collaboration “This Night” are all right as well. An Innocent Man has some good ‘50s reproductions, but no soul. All too slick and whatnot. Now back to my essay.
1977
Let me just start off with some words to get off my chest. Jim Steinman, I hate you. I hate your aura of pretension in all that you touch: the songs, the big-budget videos, and the ridiculously lengthy song titles. I hate that dumb power ballad “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” I hate how you took bad a/c artists like Air Supply and Celine Dion to new levels of inferno (he penned “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” and “It’s All Coming Back to Me” for respective artists). And I hate how you turned Meat Loaf from Rocky Horror Picture Show actor to a heavy (tiddy-boom) cult icon with this album.
OK, to be fair, I gave the Steinman-penned Bat Out Of Hell a chance. The only Meat Loaf tune I’d heard several times was that debacle “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” that gave him one of the least-deserved comebacks on the ‘90s. I wanted to be a bit more open-minded, after all, this was one of the best-selling albums of the ‘70s. But I don’t find anything on here worth keeping, other than a guilty pleasure or two. The epics are as awful as I imagined, the teen-angst lyrics blow, and the pretentious mock-Broadway/’70s sound I just can’t handle. I don’t care if it’s a parody, it doesn’t mean I have to LIKE it, now does it??? Because I don’t.
I do count a few guilty pleasures, as stated before, in the ‘normal’ rockers that ape the E Street Band sound. Of course, a few E Street members are aboard on this album, so maybe I shouldn’t say ‘ape.’ The thumping “All Revved Up With No Place to Go” certainly has the most relatable lyrics on the album and is allright, bar the RHPS speed-up at the end. “You Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth” takes the cake in the guilty pleasure list, with the “Born To Run”-esque E Street sound larger than life. The lyrics suck as usual, and the dialogue intro with Ellen Foley makes me wanna puke, but that sound! Man!
I don’t have much to say about the three slower tunes. “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad” (apparently the biggest radio hit off here) and “For Crying Out Loud” go on forever, and don’t have good melodies. “Heaven Can Wait” isn’t as sprawling and the melody is there, but still no highlight for me. But those two epics...oh no no no. The 9-minute plus cycling title track kicks things off, and is obviously the most Broadway-esque moment on here. That hyperactive delivery and pace reminds me why I stay far, far away from the Rocky Horror Picture Show franchise.
Even worse, we have “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.” You either love it to death or hate it with a passion. And I fall into the latter. The lustful lyrics bottom out here as subtlety be damned, and Foley rears her ugly head with a prominent part. The first mock-boogie section “Paradise” dissolves into the play-by-play commentary by Phil Rizzuto, overseeing the, er, sexual activity. One of the lowest moments in music I’ve heard in a while, as the innuendo is as subtle as an episode of The Man Show. The final two sections at least have a bit of humor here and there, as Meat Loaf is freaked out over how his date wants him forever after just one backseat fling. But still, I don’t want to have anything to do with that song for a while.
Well, there you have it. Bat Out Of Hell gets a 4 on the strength of touches of humor, the two guilty pleasures, and nothing is worse than “I’d Do Anything For Love.” But still, I can’t get into the sound of the album, and “Paradise” and the title track take a few points off the album alone. But with fewer biases, you can dig this album all right.
1978
A day after I added my two cents on the ‘best of’ album from the most successful period of the Doobie Brothers, I’m tackling the Steve Miller Band’s equivalent. Both albums are loaded with tasty radio singles, and both artists aren’t really critic’s favorites. But forget that, Steve Miller’s blues-rock is awesome. 10,000 college students can’t be wrong!
All except one of the tunes came from either Fly Like an Eagle (1976) or Book of Dreams (1977). The one exception is his 1974 chart-topper “The Joker.” People say it’s his best song, but I don’t see it. I always found it slow, a bit repetitive, and what the hell is a pompatus, anyway? Yeah, he tosses out references to past songs about being called the ‘space cowboy’ or ‘gangster of love.’ But he did a better job of that on “Space Cowboy” (I’ll get around to Greatest Hits 1968-73 sometime).
But the other hits are spiffy! From Fly Like an Eagle we have the spacey title track that’s so much better than that lame Seal cover 20 years later. “Take the Money And Run” has been hacked to pieces due to dumb lyrics. You all know the rhyme scheme for ‘Texas,’ ‘facts is’ and ‘justice,’ but I seriously don’t care. The rollicking rhythm is entertaining enough for me. “Rock’n Me” actually hit #1 back in the day, and why not? It’s his most solid pop-rocker ever. Book of Dreams spawned “Jet Airliner,” which sounds a bit like “Rock’n Me Pt. II,” if that’s a problem. “Swingtown” is infectious pop once you look past the generic lyrics, and “Jungle Love” boogies out with whistle calls!
But the non-hits aren’t all that. “Wintertime” is a forgettable ballad, “Wild Mountain Honey” is just odd, and “Dance Dance Dance” is embarrassing to listen to. Miller as a country boy? Doesn’t work for me. But then again, “Serenade” is a great groove a la “Take the Money and Run,” “True Fine Love” is retro boogie, and “The Stake” rocks out well, but sounds a bit too close to Joe Walsh's “Rocky Mountain Way.”
This is why people tend to slam Stevie, he does recycle classic rock riffs quite often. “Rock’n Me” = “All Right Now,” “Jet Airliner” = “Crossroads,” etc. That and some of his lyrics are trite. But that unpretentious radio-friendly sound takes me in every time and wins me over.
1988
At some point, every reviewer puts himself to the test and challenges himself with a well-established piece of crap, trying to put to words what so many people already dismiss offhand. They grit their teeth, put their credibility on the line, and hopefully come out stronger than ever. Don Ignacio did so with his Michael Bolton and Arabesque reviews, George Starostin tackled bands he hated like Uriah Heep and Kiss, and Ian of Ian’s Music Reviews even tried Ashlee Simpson! And, here is my entry: national punchline Milli Vanilli and their, ahem, album All Or Nothing.
Actually, a friend of mine found this CD (I won’t reveal his name, but he did buy the CD...and got weird looks from the clerk) in his collection and challenged me to review it last month. But I didn’t right away. I concentrated on Nuggets II and other forms of real music. Every time I hung out with him, he asked about Milli Vanilli. And every time, I said no, haven’t listened yet. As of today, I have listened to the whole thing. It’s looking like Nuggets II comes in handy, so I can recover a little bit.
Is it complete crap to the max?? Oh, I think you know the answer to that question. Producer Frank Farian’s late ‘80s computerized dance music is the rule here, and several of the songs have the same bassline/drum machine beat, most notably the singles. Not much singing takes place either, mostly pathetic attempts to rap, with every other stanza ending upwards, like you would do when asking a question. Except most of their lines aren’t questions. On some songs like “Boy in the Tree” and “Dance With a Devil,” the back-up girls seem to be the lead singers. And the lyrics are your average lovey-dovey fare, with an occasional weak Big Statement (“Money”).
You want me to go song-by-song here??? It ain’t gonna happen. No way. I’m still in a catatonic state from listening. How bad is it when you’re relieved to hear the ballad “Girl I’m Gonna Miss You”? I know I was, if for nothing else to break up the sterile dance beats for a little bit. I’ll grant that the singles “All Or Nothing” and “Girl You Know It’s True” have catchy choruses, but the other one “Baby Don’t Forget My Number” is way too irritating, right down to the ABBA-esque middle section. Oddly enough, the Diane Warren ballad “Blame it on the Rain” isn’t on here. I don’t miss it or anything, it’s absence is just strange. I thought that was their biggest hit ever.
I will mention very low points too: when I heard “Money,” I felt like Bill Walton presiding over the Pacers-Pistons fight: ‘this is disgraceful…this is a low point in basketball (pop music in my case)’. Lessee, take the opening register idea from Pink Floyd’s “Money,” add the dumbest chorus hook ever, and bullshit lyrics...come on, this whole venture was all about money, so why decry the evils of it? Jerks! The news-report sampling “Ma Baker” is also a groaner. But the biggest blow was the cover of Deep Purple’s “Hush.” What a slap in the face, taking a classic rock tune and peeing and pooping and puking all over it. They owe an apology to everyone who was ever in Deep Purple for that debacle. Even David Coverdale. Crappity crap crap.
All Or Nothing gets a point for the aforementioned catchy choruses, but that’s it. I haven’t even mentioned the scandal of this affair. You know, the whole lip-synching episode with inarticulate model boys Rob and Fab dancing and mouthing words they didn’t even sing. Those videos are embarrassing, yeah, but the album itself is no more awful with their presence. The retired army guy and the other dude who laid the vocal tracks (they even get credit on the very front of the album!) are as much responsible for this monstrosity by singing these Hallmark tunes. I...oh forget it, I’ve said more than enough already. Time for further rehabilitation.
1993
Many web reviewers before me have set out to assimilate the catalog of the pale Florida-born, Byrds-influenced Tom Petty and his backup band the Heartbreakers. Their reviews of all his albums show one thing: Petty was almost too consistent, apparently making the same album for a decade. I’ve always viewed him as a singles-only artist, with songs that are always melodic, usually ‘60s-jangly, and pretty sincere. His voice alternates from faux-Dylan nasality to guttural yelping, sometimes within a song, and is a bit grating at times (‘oh! oh! OH! OH!!!’). But the hooks! And the jangle!
From Tom Petty we have the exuberant “American Girl,” which many mistook for the Byrds themselves in ‘76. I love the fast rhythm, but I always felt the song was to short, like it needed another chorus or something. “Breakdown” is more casual, sounds like the HB’s were jamming without knowing the tape was recording. Tom Petty slurs stuff like ‘Is allright if you luv me/Is allright if you doan’’ and it’s all cool. You're Gonna Get It has been knocked for being stagnant, and the two selections are somewhat weaker. “Listen To Her Heart” doesn’t have anything going for it except that typical riff, which reminds me of the Searchers more than the Byrds. Ouch, eh’ ‘I Need To Know” is somewhat better, with urgent delivery from Petty and nice call-and-response in the chorus.
Petty broke through with Damn the Torpedos, which added some New Wave to a few songs. Well, only the Top 10 hit “Don’t Do Me Like That,” which is nice and jerky, but not the best song from that album. I feel “Refugee” shoulda charted higher, as it’s a great anthemic protest tune. Although I admit to mistaking ‘I said you don’t/HAVE/to live like a refugee!’ for ‘I said, whoa/YEAH/it’s a little like a refugee!’ in my younger years. *blush blush.* Anyway, “Even the Losers” is essentially “Listen To Her Heart Pt. 2” and “Here Comes My Girl” is a strange one. Tom Petty starts off mumbling like Dylan, transforms into Guttural Boy (‘an’ then she looks me in the EY-EYE!!!) and yells in anticipation of his girl, until he turns into the nice nasal Petty in the chorus. Man, no one can convey a guy’s thoughts of his girl like Petty, no?
From 1981’s Hard Promises comes my favorite Petty song of all time: “The Waiting.” I love the lazy mid-tempo pace, the subtle buildup to the chorus, and the completely PERFECT chorus. And the jangle guitar is at its best! A year later, Petty’s Long After Dark single “You Got Lucky” may be his worst hit single. The ‘80s keyboard riff was stolen from either the Cars’ “Touch and Go” or Police’s “Spirits in the Material World.” But more than that, the lyrics are shockingly misogynistic and the tone is sour. Why not “Change of Heart” from the same album?
Southern Accents followed in ‘85 with the other-worldly “Don’t Come Around Here No More.” Yes, it’s even more synth-laden than “Lucky,” but the sitars and such make for a truly atmospheric experience. Sometimes ‘80s effects helped, I guess. And that nutty video is memorable, with Petty masquerading as the Mad Hatter. Nothing from the flop Let Me Up (I've Had Enough), which had a minor hit single “Jammin’ Me.”
Petty rebounded with ‘89’s Full Moon Fever, with the help of fellow Wilbury Jeff Lynne. He makes the sound bigger and more polished, typical Lynne. But it doesn’t spoil the nifty hit singles “I Won’t Back Down” (with another Wilbury, George Harrison) and and the brisk “Runnin’ Down a Dream.” The introspective “Free Fallin’” is his most well-known tune, as even many of my high-school buds worshipped it. A few years later, Petty and Lynne released Into the Great Wide Open, highlighted by the excellent storysong title track (not to mention the funny video). “Learning to Fly” was the bigger hit, but it’s more generic and repetitive.
Because this review’s too damn long as it is, let me close by saying the Thunderclap Newman cover is weak and the Dylan-esque “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” is another cool storysong with a cool video. Overall, this is a great compilation that would be perfect with a few tweaks. Everyone should buy it.
1977
Among the Big Three in the ‘70s punk world, I got into the Sex Pistols after everyone else. I have liked the Ramones for a long time and I’m just getting started on my Clash period. Bollocks was the Pistols’ only official album, if you don’t count the mishmash of The Great Rock’n’Roll Swindle, which you shouldn’t, because manager Malcolm McLaren assembled the tracks there after the band stopped functioning. The Pistols ride ended with the suicide of bassist Sid Vicious in 1979. That might go a long way in explaining why the Pistols have been lauded so much, which led to their overrated stance.
I must share the same sentiment on the Pistols as many web reviewers, as being the least durable of the Big Three. They probably fit most peoples’ definition of punk, since the Ramones were too poppy and the Clash too intelligent for their expectations. Yeah, they were snotty, and had simplistic guitar riffs. But that wouldn’t be a problem if a good part of the songs didn’t exceed three minutes on here. Alas, they drag things out on nearly every track, and those OK guitar parts and Johnny Lydon/Rotten’s constant nasal vocals grate on you. Finally, if they don’t have a good hook in a song, the song flounders.
But there are some definite keepers. “Anarchy in the U.K.” is of course my personal favorite; everything about it is catchy, from the structure to the antisocial lyrics. I don’t even mind the 3-minute length one bit! 2nd best goes to “Holidays in the Sun,” which starts with some marching and leads to another cool riff and some lyrics about visiting the new Belsen. “God Save the Queen” isn’t quite a monster as the previous two, but you gotta love the lines like ‘she ain’t no human being!’ and “God save the Queen/We mean it, man!!!’ These aren’t the most well-known tracks for nothing.
Besides the Three Hits, there are other minor gems on here. “No Feelings” and “Pretty Vacant” are happy odes to being uncaring AND dumb. “Bodies” is the angriest track on here, with Rotten ranting about a girl who had an abortion. No one seems to like “Submission,” probably because it’s the slowest track on here. I welcome it though, it’s pretty catchy and worth its 4 minute length. See, fast songs should be short, and slow songs should be long! Especially at dances.
Filler rules the rest. “Liar” is similar to “Feelings” and “Vacant,” but more grating. “Problems” would be OK if it didn’t go on for 4 minutes. 4 MINUTES?! Geez! A lot of it is Rotten saying the title over and over. I even think at times it sounds like he’s saying “Rob Lowe.” That’s how bored the song makes me. And “Seventeen” and “New York” have not one hook anywhere. I still don’t remember how “New York” goes! Not good! Same goes for the album closer/label swipe “E.M.I.”, but I do like the whiny chorus for whatever reason. So points are subtracted from the rating due to filler and a single formula, but the famous tracks and others are good enough.
1986
I’ll start off by saying I’ve never had more than a passing interest in Paul Simon or Simon and Garfunkel. S&G had their share of good radio hits, as did Paul, to a lesser extent. But I don’t think I can get into any of their albums. I tried and failed with Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme, at least. And Paul’s voice isn’t that great, too shy for its own good sometimes. But I must say some good things about Graceland, an album I heard in the car many times growing up. So much has been said about his African and Cajun spicings on this album, and I can only assume it made his music more interesting.
That opener “Boy in the Bubble” isn’t very happy. Those minor-key verses are filled with pessimistic world views and cynicism on technological advances. And that chorus is no less down, as Paul sounds downright ironic about the days of miracle and wonder. Though it’s in a major key, it’s in A-flat, the unhappiest key of all. Luckily the following title track is a little more upbeat, a brisk country tune with the Everly Brothers on back-up vocals.
Throughout the album, Paul has a fast-paced, observational delivery that makes the words hard to follow or understand. Like on “I Know What I Know,” still one of the weirdest songs I’ve come across. Paul’s words sound exactly like Woody Allen lines, and the bizarre ‘80s sound and aboriginal backing vocals rendered it unlistenable to my brother’s ears and mine at the time. But everyone knows the hit “You Can Call Me Al,” with that ‘80s beat and more fast-paced lyrics. Well, at least people remember the video, where poor Paul is being upstaged by Chevy Chase’s lip-synching.
Don’t forget what made this album a critical favorite: Paul’s fusing of pop and African tribal chants. He wasn’t the first to do so, but he was possibly the first to garner mass attention for doing so. Ladysmith Black Mambazo join Paul on the a cappella showcase “Homeless” and at the beginning of the otherwise ordinary and overlong “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes.” Plus, Paul threw in some zydeco numbers like “Gumboots” and “That Was Your Mother,” backed by authentic Cajun bands. Even cult Texas group Los Lobos are aboard for the closer “Myth of Fingerprints.”
Now, I’m not totally wowed by Graceland, as songs like “Diamonds,” “Crazy Love” and the Linda Ronstadt duet “Under African Skies” don’t do much for me. While I may have heard the album once too often as a lad, now I can look at it with some respect as a web reviewer.
BONUS TRACKS: The reissue of this album includes three bonus alternates. There’s a cut of “Myth of Fingerprints.” with no Lobo vocals but more Lobo guitar, and an acoustic runthrough of “Homeless,” but my favorite has to be more sparse “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes,” which highlights the cool bassline and backing vocals, neither of which were brought to the front in the original. So yes, I do prefer that one. What it to ya.