Music Reviews Archive

Let’s get one thing out in the open right from the start – I’m not a jazz fan. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I dislike jazz per se more that I’ve never felt drawn to it. I’ve listened to a few rock artists who’ve dabbled in it (Cold Chisel, Billy Joel etc.) but unlike country or blues I’ve never felt the urge to explore further.

So what brought me to Tribaljazz? The Doors connection is the simple answer. I’ve been a Doors fan for years and have listened to several of the band members’ solo projects, from Ray Manzarek’s self-indulgent The Golden Scarab to Robbie Krieger and Friends technically brilliant but uninspired album. I’ve always hoped to find some of the magic of the Doors recordings but I’ve always been disappointed. The Doors connection on this album is twofold, first Doors drummer John Densmore is the driving forces behind the band and secondly…well we’ll save that second connection for a little later.

Of the Doors members I’ve always had Densmore down as the weakest link, so it’s with some surprise that I say this is by far the most enjoyable solo project I’ve heard from any of the surviving band members. It’s often the drummer that gets overlooked in a band and that seems to have been the case with Densmore, here he’s much more in the driving seat with much of the album built on his solid rhythms, the skeleton that the other musicians add flesh to.

On the opening track of his new album Lindsey Buckingham sings about reading a review in a newspaper – “said I was a visionary but nobody knew/and that’s been a problem/feeling unseen.” The man has a point. When I told my brother Tony, I was going to review this album his response was “Lindsey who?” and he’s not exactly a musical philistine, just not a Fleetwood Mac fan.

Buckingham is Mac’s best kept secret and that’s not just a crime it’s a sin. While Peter Green is an instantly recognisable name (I’m sure Tony would have known him) the man who replaced him in the band and who’s probably had an even bigger influence on their sound and certainly their success is virtually unknown outside the bands fanbase.

One of the reasons for this of course is the fact that he’s not exactly prolific. This collection of 11 songs is his first solo release since Out of the Cradle in 1992. That makes this something of an event, at least for fans. Being one of them, my expectations were high but my initial feeling was one of disappointment. Stripped down to just acoustic guitar and vocals but with his usual over the top production style it just didn’t seem to gel. The hooks didn’t hook, where were the catchy tunes of old?

What should one’s expectations be for a new album from a bunch of rock dinosaurs who started making music back in the Jurassic era? A work that manages to catch a faint glimpse of past glories? Given that this is now only really half The Who, perhaps even that is too much to hope for. Imagine my surprise then, when, after a few listens, I fell in love with this new album from Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey, the two surviving members of this legendary rock band.

The album breaks down into two halves – the first nine songs stand on their own while the final ten make up the mini-opera “Wire & Glass”.

The first track, “Fragments” starts with a repeated keyboard refrain before that distinctive Townshend guitar breaks in along with drums from Zak Starkey and bass from master session player Pino Paladino. They’re soon joined by the unmistakable voice of Roger Daltrey. The song itself deals with man’s individuality and the possibility of unity through music. It’s a good way to start but things get better.

“Man In a Purple Dress” was inspired by the film The Passion of the Christ and sees Townshend railing against the pomposity of organised religion, where men need to play dress up in order to commune with god. The arrangement is simple, just acoustic guitar and vocals and it’s very country in style. It’s one of Roger Daltrey’s finest moments, not just singing the words but feeling them as well.

In 1984 I was nineteen years old and heavily into American rock. Springsteen and Mellencamp (still Cougar then) were the artists whose LP’s were wearing out the needle on my record deck.

Yes I said LP’s. This is a tale that starts in ancient times before shiny metal discs and long before music downloads. When PC referred to a police constable and in the office where I worked the only windows were the ones you spent the day staring through while you daydreamed of a less mundane existence, one filled with fast cars, beautiful girls and endless highways.

So a Scottish pop group playing songs with references to the likes of Norman Mailer and Leonard Cohen wasn’t something I’d usually buy. Yet there was something about Lloyd Cole’s laid back, bordering on morose, delivery that appealed to me almost from the minute I heard “Perfect Skin,” the first single from his debut album with the Commotions. I picked up the album on the strength of that single, and the fact that I was intrigued by the title. Rattlesnakes sounded more like something my American rock idols would put out; after all, there weren’t any rattlers in Glasgow.

That album is still one of my all time favourites and while many of the references went over my head at the time (‘she looks like Eve Marie Saint in On the Waterfront’) his ability to deliver a lyric that could cut with rapier sharpness didn’t (‘must you tell me all your secrets when its hard enough to love you knowing nothing.’) Catchy upbeat pop music with literate lyrics and a downbeat delivery was now the order of the day on my phonograph.