ROCK-A-RAMA
YOKO ONO - Approximately Infinite Universe (Apple):: Boy, I thought the Process was after me! Every day for a week I kept getting these weird letters in the mail with strange symbols in them. I had visions of a group of cloaked figures, reciting incantations over a sacrificial altar in my honor each time another one of those letters arrived.
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The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.
ROCK-A-RAMA
YOKO ONO - Approximately Infinite Universe (Apple):: Boy, I thought the Process was after me! Every day for a week I kept getting these weird letters in the mail with strange symbols in them. I had visions of a group of cloaked figures, reciting incantations over a sacrificial altar in my honor each time another one of those letters arrived. I tried to tell myself that I was only jumpy �cause I�d just finished reading The Family and that there was no cause for alarm with Manson safely locked up (he is locked up, ain�t he?). Well, let me tell ya, I was sure relieved to find out that it was only a bunch of mystical-hypeshit for Yoke�s new album. Whew. I figured I was safe. Then I listened to the album.
THUNDERMUG - Strikes (Axe):: The first time I heard the single �Africa� on the radio, I was sure it was the new Alice Cooper smash. Thundermug may not be as crass, but they�re just as commercial. They even do the Kinks� �You Really Got Me� (and do it well). Watch out for these guys.
DENNIS BRAIN — Mozart�s Horn Concertos (Angel):: Snap one of these up before they all disappear — Brain bit the high-speed dust a la T. E. Lawrence some time ago, so there ain�t gonna be no more. Which is too fucking bad, because Brain was the absolute master of the unarticulated (no valves) horn; so good, in fact, that he once played a concert on a length of garden hose looped over his arm. Consider also that of W. A. only penned four horn concertos and they�re all here, so this disc covers the whole shot. Classical Record Of The Aeon.
KRACKERS - La Familia (Dunhill):: If every cultural subgroup provides its own official greeters to conduct initiates through their introductory hazing, and if Cheech & Chong and TYA fulfill that role for the doper crowd, where do these Krackers fit in? Only one place: as the palace guards for the over-21 swingin� singles suburban bar crowd. Johnny Rivers� disco/drink-rock mantle falls on their shoulders and they wear it well, ladling out two hot �n� cool sides of mainstream Seventies alcohol dancefloor cola (re 3 Dog, Rare Earth, Santana), just like those outfits in your home town. White funk, styled afros & old men t-shirts, sweat, Farfisas and Fenders, where the guys meet the gals. �Oh yeah, which beauty college didja go to? Wanna drink?� All right, especially �Because of You.�
ALBERT HAMMOND - It Never Rains In Southern California (Mums):: This singer/ songwriter sings songs he�s written, amazingly enough. All three facets are pretty polished; he might make it, if he can beat back the avalanche of plagiarism law-suits brought by Cat Stevens, Don McLean, Terry Knight (there�s gotta be an angle in it for him somewhere), etc.
CLAUDIA LINNEAR - Phew! (Warner Brothers):: Quick! Three members of the Mad Dogs� tour still haven�t recorded solo albums. Wait, the postman just brought a special-delivery press release: �BOBBY KEYES TO PRODUCE AND PLAY ON BATTLE OF THE DRUMMERS LP.� The end of an era. Thank God.
DORY PREVIN - Mary C. Brown and The Hollywood Sign (United Artists):: Pain, Pain, Pain with capital P�s, flaccid nylon stringed guitars and nothing would convince me that she didn�t make up this entire album in the shower while trying to keep her mind off razor blades. If you�d like a record that inspires rude background noises, Dory gives you more than your money�s worth. Sing along with �king kong� or �starlet starlet on the screen/ who will follow norma jean� and be amazed at your surprise. What depths of empathetic feeling she evokes with her tales of unfairness on every hand including her own �left hand lost� and especially at the hands of men (pronounced in exasperation). Feet of clay, midgets who wish they were black and a thirty second scream in the key of C all add up to cause me to carry on like a laughing hyena. I�ll never let this album out of my sight.
GENE McDANIELS� Golden Greats (Liberty):: A sturdy handbook of bright black pop circa �61-�62, with Gene running wild and smooth through yards of Bacharach-David, Goffin-King, Sachel Distel (?) material with big band R&R finery a la Lloyd Price, Dee Clark; �100 Pounds of Clay,� �Point of No Return� and Gene�s invaluable (on a par with Twitty�s at least) contribution of audible sigh-throat rock, �Tower Of Strength.� You Also Get: a hot rerun of Roy Hamilton�s �You Can Have Her,� Liberty�s puff �n� toot machinegun band on �Chip, Chip,� and Snotra�s �That�s Life.� The violins actually soar.