ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK A RAMA

This month’s Rock-a-ramas were written by Dave DiMartino, Susan Whitall, and Mark J. Norton-

THE MEMBERS — At The Chelsea Nightclub (Virgin):: Even with the derivative nods toward Clash/Police white reggae styling, the Members’ music comes off as original because it has what both those bands lack: a sense of humor. Songs about the dread “suburbs” don’t sound cliched, songs about American capitalist porkers don’t sound hackneyed, and, instrumentally, the band avoids the murkiness of their debut cut (a few years back) on the Beggars Banquet Streets compilation. Best song is “Don’t Push,” which combines a Yardbirdsian guitar attack with the Syndicate of Sound’s “Hey Little Girl” sentiment and emerges with bonus credibility. A must for heavy beer drinkers.

D.D.'

LIZZY MERCIER DESCLOUX-Press Color (ZE):: In our little CREEM aerie up, up, away from the insistent squawk of the Currie Sisters, black-haired Lizzy Mercier Descloux offers a Gallic respite from the songbirds, of the FM airwaves: Benatar, Foley, Ronstadt, Wilson. Only here do we escape Motown cover versions, spandex cheesecake, vegetarian screaming... In our little world, Lizzy is queen of le funkfrancaise. So Lizzy has a precarious hold on le langue anglais. So what? Her Franco-American scatsinging weaves in and out of the music, adding to the fascination. So the French can’t rock? Manger le merde. Anyone cool enough to include a Mission Impossible subtheme, “Jim On The Move”—clearly the best cut on the LP—is there already. There’s no indication on the sleeve what Lizzy plays—or what anybody plays for that matter, but it’s her name on the disc, so hey, Lizzy, kudosare in order. Formidable.

S.W.

CINECYDE—Positive Action (Tremor Records EP):: Cinecyde were the first group in Detroit to get a single out back in those dark days of ’77, and today they are the most prolific. Two older records, the now classic “Gutless Radio” (an anthem to the state of progressive radio) and the aptly titled “Black Vinyl Threat” (which contains a tune ‘Rock Meat and the Hard-Ons,’ that warned the, then-program director of WABX, “China Jones your death is next/ You’re still gutless like all the rest”) were mercenary in their respective themes, the boldest vinyl from the ballsiest group in Detroit. “Positive Action,” however, shows the boys maturing in their style, with songs like “Radiation Sickness,” “Behavior Modification,” a cover version of the DC5 classic “Any Way You Want It,” and my personal fave, “Phosphorous and Napalm.” The themes are apocalyptic, and so are Cinecyde. As Gary Reichel, lead singer for the group says, “These are fun songs about sick subjects.” Available by writing Tremor Records/403 Forest/Royal Oak, MI 48067.

M.J.N.

HOLLY AND THE ITALIANS—Tell That Girl To Shut Up, b/w Chapel off Love (Oval import 45):: Holly moved to London from L.A. because she didn’t like the beach, didn’t like the heat. She wanted to live in a country where

people didn’t waste their time sitting on the beach all day. Where her music would be appreciated. Shut up, Holly.

S.W.

EDGAR FROESE—Stuntman (Virgin):: This guy stopped making “music that melts the mind” years ago. Tangerine Dream big-wig Edgar hasn’t been making “impressionistic” music since Rubicon, the last T.D. LP that even merited listening. Nowadays the Happy Kraut plays “Music Box Dancer” melodies and puts everyone to sleep except himself. Not even a case of growing out of this stuff—Froese’s latest is about as interesting as American snooze-mate Larry Fast’s, which ain’t exactly good news. Big Ed should set the controls for the heart of the sun and then go buy a hamburger.

D.D.

THE MUTANTS—Caffe Au La it, b/w I Say Yeah (FTM Records 45):: What is Clemma, you ask? Clemma is getting a master’s degree in mathematics, losing your job,-, buying an expensive house in a swanky suburb, smoking spliffs, mon. It is indulging in valium, drinking until you drop, bouncing into walls, smashing up your car, picking up girls, etc., etc., etc. Clemma might be a lifestyle, an attitude, or even a deodorant. But in Hamtramck, Clemma is Clemma Rock, as played by those suave and debonair Princes of Pierogis, the Mutants.

“Cafe Au Lait” and “I Say Yeah” is the latest vinyl offering from these talented young gentlemen and I suggest you buy this record, as well as their first, “So American,” in quantity to give as gifts to your friends, relativ.es and milkman, and also to save for your grandchildren, to explain to them why they are flawed genetically. After hearing, they will understand. Available by writing FTM Records/P.O. Box 638/Plymouth, MI 48170.

M.J.N.

COLDCOCK-*! Wanna Be Rich” b/w “Yon’re A Mesa” (I.D.B.I. 45):: Coldcock singer Andy Peabody has amassed a reputation around Detroit as being a revoltingly compelling performer of both original and cover material. This single, of course, encompasses the original. The B-side is by far our favorite, being a clean lift of the “Hey Little Girl” Syndicate of Sound riff (What? Twice in one Rama section?), framed by Andy’s tormented voice intoning lyrics like “You’re a mess/you don’t know.” The band’s appeal is most apparent live, where songs like “Y.M.C.A.,” “Last Kiss,” “Under My Wheels,” etc., are demolished, and then delicately reconstructed by Mr. Peabody, who spends most of his stage time prone and favors Miller beer. Hard to say whether the fragile Coldcock oeuvre would be understood in the cold gray world of the biz,

but any song destroyed by Andy Peabody is a song I want to hear. (Single available by writing I.D.B.I./P.O. Box 1038/Southfield, MI 48075).

S.W.

THE DUKES—The Dukes (Warner Bros.):: In which Jimmy McCulloch’s new band starts off. with the biggest bang possible: J.M.’s swift O.D. With guitarist Miller Anderson (of Keef Hartley Band/Hemlock/Dog Soldier/Broken Glass and too many others) taking over the reins, this admirably-named unit proceeds to create some nice, melodic tunes with utterly vapid lyrics that might have sounded great in 1969 but now just remind us that some people grow old gracefuDy and some don’t. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t so dumb.

D.D.

R.U.R.—Go Baby (Nebula Records EP):: R.U.R. (Whose name was lifted from the play R.U.R., written by Karel Capek...a bit of intellectual posing, maybe?) are a tight local outfit who have gigged their collective asses off for the last couple years around Detroit, Chicago, Cleveland, and are just now getting the attention of major labels, which they deserve. This EP shows a strong talent for writing songs with great hooks, but unfortunately, the production values are weak, on three-quarters of the songs presented, the only standout being “Go Baby,” produced by former Ramrod, sometime Corvette Peter James. This doesn’t mean, however, that it isn’t worth the bux, because this group has changed its line-up since, and they are contenders live. Their new front man Eddie looks like a young Martin Sheen, and that’s cool, buckos, cool. Available by writingR.U.R./ 1684 Linden/Dearborn, MI 48124.

M.J.N.

DUNCAN BROWNE-Streets of Fire (Sire):: A relatively quick follow-up to The Wild Places, a trashily romantic but ultimately satisfyingpiece of early 70’s nostalgia, this follows its predecessor’s format a little too closely. Don’t know why this stuff sounds so appealing—it’s too wordy, too pretentious, and its McLaughKnesque aspirations (see title track) are forced and unnecessary. But if A1 Stewart can make it big singing similar but inferior sludge, there’s no reason ex-folkie Duncan can’t do the same. Even if he does like to wear make-up.

D.D.

WIRE—154 (Warner Bros.)::Two albums later and Wire replace minimalist flash with minimalist techno flash. The barren landscapes are now augmented with Bryan Ferry solemnities and Ozzy Osbourne spazz attacks that should sound stupid but don’t. Some say Pink Floyd would be sounding like this if Syd hasn’t bit the Big Loonie, but it sounds like these guys finally realized that stark music doesn’t necessitate stark instrumentation. Synthesizers roll in and out, metallic guitars buzz while Wire’s ominous doomsayer monotones “I Should Have Known Better.” Which, thankfully, is about as close as 154 comes to pop music. “Iron Man” circa 1980.

D.D.