ROCK • A • RAMA
HOOKED ON DRUGS (RCE):: Given the success of such best-selling albums as Hooked On Classics and Hooked On Swing, it was inevitable, I suppose, that someone would come up with the idea for this. Side one's "Hooked On Hallucinations" theme is an amusing enough medley which includes such hoary old chestnuts as "Eight Miles High," "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds," "Pictures Of Matchstick Men," "White Rabbit" and—wait for it—"Puff The Magic Dragon."
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ROCK • A • RAMA
This month's Rock-a-ramas were written by Jeffrey Morgan, Richard Riegel, j. poet, Richard Meltzer and Michael Davis.
HOOKED ON DRUGS (RCE):: Given the success of such best-selling albums as Hooked On Classics and Hooked On Swing, it was inevitable, I suppose, that someone would come up with the idea for this. Side one's "Hooked On Hallucinations" theme is an amusing enough medley which includes such hoary old chestnuts as "Eight Miles High," "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds," "Pictures Of Matchstick Men," "White Rabbit" and—wait for it—"Puff The Magic Dragon." The best, however, is saved for side two: the "Hooked On Heroin" medley, which features a stellar song selection, including "I'm Waiting For The Man," "Cold Turkey," "The Pusher," "Tonight's The Night," "Heroin," and (surprise!) James Brown's "King Heroin." How they could omit "Fixing A Hole" is beyond me but, should this set sell enough copies, there's always a chance that it'll be included in a Hooked On Drugs Volume Two. We can only hope. J.M.
HUANG CHUNG (Arista):: Nope, it doesn't mean "hung with a big wang," or any other such gross Van Halenism; these guys are certified ART-Limeys, after all, and they've named themselves after the Chinese for "yellow bell," as they happen to be devotees of the "gamelan" beat outta the East. Like sitars in a lost pop generation, the miracle gamelan gives H.C.'s somber intellectuo-pop overtones and vibes you may not find in yer average Psychedelic Furs licks, doncha know. Personally I doubt that Huang Chung have even a Chinaman's chance of interesting the untutored masses in this pseudo-Oriental gimmickry, but on the other hand, if they keep up their promising start at plugging their riddims into the groove (real third world talk), they could be really all reet, in the tongue of your choice. R.R.
FIST—Thunder In Rock (A&M):: If Kiss could play good they might sound like this gang, hard uptempo rock that can perform plastic surgery at high volume. All the way from Canada, eh, and they even sound as if they may have half a brain between 'em which should put 'em way out in front of the heavy metal I.Q. sweepstakes. Some of the cuts even evidence a rudimentary sense of humor. Given enough time off, these guys might just invent the wheel.
MIKE NOCK—Ondras (ECM):: When I first put down the needle I though I'd get cooties if I left it on but I was wrong. Sounded (at first) like yet another maudlin, mawkish tribute to the Great Womb of Death but after a while there's something compelling about all the interminable repetition, and th^ harmonics don't really suggest croaking (per se) so much as maybe just hopeless fucked up romanticism or whatever. Sounds (in fact) like a cross between Country Joe's "Colors For Susan" and Throbbing Gristle in a "jazz mode." (Oh yeah, the guy plays piano.) R.M.
DREAM SYNDICATE (Down There EP):: Considering how well it mirrored self-destruction, the music of the Velvet Underground has had a surprisingly durable legacy, stretching from the Stooges and Modern Lovers up through Television, the Feelies and Jim Carroll. The recently-formed Dream Syndicate continues the line and if. their sound is blatantly derivative at this point, it's also potent and explosive. Whenever the everyday awkwardness of Steve Wynn's songs threatens to get too precious, guitarist Karl Precoda comes up with an equal portion of good ole garage band distortion to balance things out. Precoda's ace-in-the-hole is his wild feedback technique so if you know someone that noise annoys, sic this sucker on 'em and watch 'em wilt. M.D.
VENDETTA (Epic):: Did somebody say "punkmetal"? Yeh, probably even me, but this group comes closer to that fabled fusion than most anything I've heard this summer. Does it help my estimation of this group that vocalist/ guitarist/composer Niki Buzz happens to be black? Yeh, could be, especially for the visual contrast Mr. Buzz provides to his fellow Vepdettas, a couple of blowdried whitey prettyboy metalleers direct frpm 1976 (drummer Terry Fox, particularly, has that obscenely Rex-Smithian I'm-so-beautiful-I-should-begiven-my-own-network-TV-series-NOW gleam in his eye.) All that's true, yet and still it's Niki Buzz's guitar work that really sells me on this LP, as he plays tons of hyperenergetic sinewy curly-
cues that suggest Aerosmith's Joe Perry and Brad Whitford rolled into one compact geetarist. Lyrics are the familiar urban-battleground toughguy posturings, with a few pleasant "Rolls Royce pickup truck" surprises thrown in. R.R.
CLIFFORD BROWN/MAX ROACH — Pure Genius (Elektra/Musician):: This is like the fourth or fifth decent release out of 16 so far for E/M, a good B.A. for a major label jazz adjunct. 'S actually (all in one) the hottest-ever Clifford LP, the hottest-ever Max LP and the hottest-ever Sonny Rollins all rolled into one— honest. The cover, though, is hideous, strictly from Nonesuch; maybe Elektra oughta rethink their art concept for the series before ugly covers send 'em down the tubes regardless of vinyl qual (and they oughta start signing an occasional contempo, uh, musician). R.M.
CHRISTIANE F.-Gesundheit! (Posh Boy EP):: Smart money would tag this platter "organic disco," as it's apparently made and sung and played by at least one or two real Germans, none of that wholesale importing of Americans like Donna Summer and Silver Convention who put high-tech Kraut disco on the map in the mid-'70s. Star-clubber here is of course the lovely Christiane Felscherninow, who chants her soft-but-incessant vocals in alternating Deutsch and American, and who plays random bursts of pure-noise guitar, over a very funky beats-per-minute clockword bass. Plus, the truly perverse thrillseeker may wish to turn the front of the jacket sideways, for a verboten glimpse of a rather well-known tricolor. "I am so addictive," chants FrauleinF. , who makes a real case for letting your ja be ja. R.R.
JOANNE BRACKEEN - Special Identity (Antilles):: She may be holding her face on the cover but Brackeen ain't holding back at the piano. Once again she's recording with just the rhythm section of Gomez and DeJohnette but the results are more spontaneous than her last trio outing. Typically, her ideas have a rough-edged grace to them and the closer you listen, the less you hear her predecessors (Powell,' Monk, Tyner, Corea) and the more you hear her. Calling Joanne the best female pianist in jazz ain't enough any more; she's up there with the big boys now. M.D.
ERASERHEAD —Soundtrack Album (I.B-S.):; Those of you who've been dreaming about a Muzak version of Metal Machine Music can relax and enjoy, the long wait is over. True, some of the rougher edges have been smoothed and it's one LP rather than two, but, sheese, ya can't have everything, can ya? Run don't walk to the nearest vinyl emporium. Tell 'em Lou sent ya. j.p.
