ROCK · A · ROMA
DAVID COVERDALE'S WHITESNAKE— Snakebite (United Artist?)::Dave never got the acclaim that his Purple predecessor Ian Gillan did but this LP slithers right past Ian's solo excesses. It's neither painful nor poisonous as the title suggests, just solid English stomp, not unlike Crawler.
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 · ROMA
DAVID COVERDALE'S WHITESNAKE— Snakebite (United Artist?)::Dave never got the acclaim that his Purple predecessor Ian Gillan did but this LP slithers right past Ian's solo excesses. It's neither painful nor poisonous as the title suggests, just solid English stomp, not unlike Crawler. M.D.
JOHN McLAUGHLIN—Johnny McLaughlin, Electric Guitarist (Columbia)::Stripped of the weighty pretensions of the Mahavishnu Orchestra and the esoteric and monotonously acoustic virtuosity of Shakti, McLaughlin emerges as one bad burnin' mother of a guitar player. Using various small group combinations (with people like Carlos Santana, Chick Corea, Tony Williams, etc.), Johnny runs down moods ranging from undiluted funk thru electric bebop thru introspective ballad. It's as if all the awkward and boring and disjointed elements of fusion music had jelled into one dynamite package, balance replacing excess, substance replacing flash. I haven't cared much for anything McLaughlin's done during the past eight years, but this one's a winner.^ R.C.W.
EUCLID BEACH BAND—There's No Surf In Cleveland (Cleveland Int./Epic 45)::If everybody had an ocean, like after an atomic war or something, surfing might still be a big deal. But what the hey? Nobody surfs anymore. That's why Brian Wilson has been so depressed for the last eight years. The Euclid Beach Band has had enough of this surfing myth and they laid it right-on the line. "There's no surf in Cleveland"..and they don't care. It's about time somebody didn't care! Too bad the record wasn't a hit outside of Cleveland, but it was too long and boring. What can you expect from an
This month's Rock-a-ramas were written by Michael Davis, Richard C. Walls, Doctor Oldie, BigAI, The Masked Marvel and Richard Riegel.
impersonation of the Beach Boys circa 1970? At least it was produced by Eric Carmen which gives it a leg up on the original source.
D.O. & B.A*.
NATIONAL LAMPOON'S ANIMAL HOUSE—(MCA)::Even though Animal House won't sell nearly as well as Saturday Night Fever, it does raise some interesting questions. Like for instance, if the movie is really set in November of 1962, how is it that John Belushi knows all the words to "Louie Louie"? The Kingsmen's record didn't hit the charts until 1963, exactly two weeks before Kennedy was shot. Did Bluto own a copy of Richard Berry's original on Flip? Was Faber College
located in the Pacific Northwest? That would explain the searing Raideresque dual-guitar break in the middle. But what are we to make of Steve Bishop's phony falsetto? Who does he think he's kidding? T.M.M.
TREVOR RABIN (Chrysalis)::If power pop is heavy rock cut with enough powdered sugar to keep a dorm full of diabetics dosed for a week, then I guess this qualifies. Or maybe it's just Queen in the throes of insulin shock. M.D.
ZWOL—"New York City" (EMI America 45) ::Is this Walter Zwol character really Marty Balin, with head shaved to signify renewed musical piety? Looks could be deceiving, but this square white vinyl single contains, upon auditing, a rather conventional rah-rah popdisco tribute to the Big Apple of all our eyes. Yeah, square (!), but the grooves go 'round same as always. R.R.
TONY ORLANDO (Elektra)::Bet you're expecting some smartass crack 'cause this is CREEM Magazine and...Tony Orlando, right? But actually the album isn't that bad, tho it is bad. What T.O.'s done is gathered together a bunch of r'n'b chestnuts like "I Count The Tears" and "You're So Fine". Brought in Jerry Wexler to overproduce, and then gave it what I guess is his best shot. Occasionally he gets an edge in his voice that conveys some of the urgency of the original versions, but basically he remains unburdened by any of the riskier aspects of imagination. What we used to call a square. R.C.W.
GENTLE GIANT—Giant For A Day (Capi tol)::Poor G.G. Accused since their inception of being overly methodical and cluttered, they try so hard to simplify their approach here that they end up sounding less spontaneous than ever. Some of this stuff is so dull it even has hit potential. M.D.
THE ROCKSPURS (DJM)::No, these guys . are hardly a "New Wave within the New Wave," as their over-achiever publicity has claimed, but rather a hyper-reactionary rock band in the image of the mid-60's Cyrkle, eager to get back to that swing-music dream of pandering every style to every age group. A little bit country, a little bit rock, just like the Osmond siblings. Cocktail lounge lizards chameleoning down the years, you might even want to say. R.R.
LEE MORGAN—The Procrastinator (Blue Note):: If Herbie Hancock's highly-touted VSOP trip has you all hot for that hard bop stuff, then bip over to the Blue Note bins. This tworecord resurrection from the late 60's features fiery trumpet master Morgan with Hancock, Wayne Shorter and a host of other heavies, just laying down what was natural for them at the time, without thoughts about grandiose packaging or production. \ M.D.
GIL SCOTT-HERON AND BRIAN JACKSON—Secrets (Arista) ::Scott-Heron, a confessed teacher, manages to make his lessons more palatable than a printed rundown of his subjects would ever indicate. I mean would you believe that the mellowest, catchiest ditty on the album is a cautionary lecture about angel dust? Undisputable proof that hardcore social commentary/criticism and funk can mix well. Now the question is: does anyone care enough to listen? R.C.W.
