ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK • A • RAMA

This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were written by Billy Altman, Michael Davis, Jeff Fernbacher, Richard Riegel, Richard C. Walls and Craig Zeller.

THE BLUEBELLS (Sire EP):: U2 sans the wallof-emotion instrumental density, or Dexy’s Midnight Runners without the hokey Celtic-jig overtones, the Scot lads in the Bluebells have stripped pop down to barer bones than even the skeletal punks suspected. Bright, earnest folkrock (that doesn’t even dream psychedelia’s around the corner), songs with plenty of slots to insert messages of love & topicality. Shoulda known Elvis Costello would like this, enough even to add his trueblue production and voice to the Bluebells’ “Aim In Life.” As citizens of the U.K., the Bluebells gotta have some fashion gimmick, too, and theirs appears to be stylized work shirts (colorcoded, y’see), but pay that no mind, music’s good f nough to justify any cosmetic hijinx. R.R.

THE SMITHEREENS-Beauty And Sadness '(Little Ricky):: The back cover of this disarming EP, filled as it is with candid recording session photos, brings to mind the Byrd’s Fifth Dimension album, and that’s the tip-off for where the collective heart of the New York area-based Smithereens lies—namely, in the realm of the painstakingly crafted, committed-to-excellence pop music senses of bygone times. Under the watchful eye and sympathetic ear of benefactor Alan Betrock, the Smithereens have fashioned quite an eye-opening little record, from the can’tshake-that-guitar-riff-loose, Love-like “Tracey’s World” to the hooks aplenty of “Some Other Guy,” and from the rockabilly sans campiness rouser “Much Too Much” to the not overly selfconscious psychedelic strains of the introspective title track. Like another famous back cover once proclaimed: “To be listened to in the-spirit in which it was made.” (Available from Little Ricky Recods, 1133 Broadway, Suite 1107, New York, NY 10010). B.A.

YELLO—You Gotta Say Yes To Another Excess (Elektra):: Yet another post-Kraftwerkian Euro-disco outfit here, but these guys prefer to work the weird end of the street instead of providing incidental thump for the pretty boys in the shopping malls. Yello concentrate on the absurdity potential of their chosen medium, doing things like following repetitions of the phrase, “I love you,” with the sound of screeching tires in one tune, then following someone named Father Excess up the Amazon in another. No, it doesn’t make any sense to me either, but its high-huh? factor shouldn’t discourage you; maybe the Swiss just have a different sense of humor or something.

M.D.

CYCLONES-Out In The Cold (Plexus EP):: This band puts out atmospheric disturbances as bracingly postmodern (i.e., post-Blondie) as the Waitresses’ any night of any week. Donna Esposito’s vocals seem even wider-eyed than Patty Donahue’s, as Esposito’s are sweet & breathy like early M. Faithfull but postlib assertive all the same. Plus Esposito’s own gangly folkrock guitars, and Dan Reich’s and Marc Seligman’s “Hoboken Sound” rhythm chugs. Not just a local band, but a different & hugely pop sound the charts should have (if they’ll have it). Sounds good for forever.

R.R.

THE GOLDEN PALOMINOS (OAO/Celluloid):: This one comes off sorta like a New York new music/noise wave supersession, centered around the trio of ex-Pere Ubu/Feelies/Lounge Lizards drummer Anton Fier, ubiquitous Material bassist Bill Laswell and ex-DNA guitarist/vocalist Arto Lindsay. Lindsay’s sporadic verbal blatherings aren’t much in and of themselves, but combined with the physical push and pull of the rhythm section, they add an early-Can-like element to the music. Highlights include the tracks where Laswell shares the bottom with Jamaaladeen Tacuma and “I.D.,” where Fred Frith’s guitar engages Lindsay’s in a dialogue unlike any I’ve ever heard before. (Available through The Moss Music Group Inc. 48 W. 38th St., New York, NY 10018). M.D.

ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA-Secret Messages (Jet/CBS):: I guess the best thing about being Jeff Lynne in 1983 is that, since no one expects anything from him anymore (what’s it been since “Do Ya”—Move version—10 years?), he can just keep going his merry way concocting semi-precious, semi-idiotic fluff that sounds phenomenal, so long as he keeps churning out those semi-precious, totally idiotic hit singsongs that sound phenomenal every now and then. Ergo, Secret Messages with the requisite dumbo hummer “Rock ’N’ Roll Is King,” or “Since I produced Dave Edmunds and rendered him semi-modern, what better time to rip off Rockpile—I mean, he owes me, right?” I won’t bore you with the details in regard to how the lyrics on this LP all kind of run together after a few tunes (and this one isn’t a concept album, either), and you won’t bore yourself matching the melodic swipes with the following artists: Gerry Rafferty, Little Richard, Donnie Iris(!), Bill Justis(!!), and the llamas & the Papas (!!!) to name but a few. That Jeff, whatta card. B.A.

UNDER FIRE—Original Motion Picture Sound Track (Warner Bros.); CHARLIE HADEN-The Ballad Of The Fallen (ECM):: Listening to movie soundtrack albums is usually a little obsessive, since rarely do they rise above the level of aural program souvenirs, but Jerry Goldsmith’s score for the Roger Spotiswoode film about photojournalists in Nicaragua during the Sandinista revolution has, at least, the added interest of guest soloist Pat Metheny, who plays mostly acoustic Spanish guitar licks with a few jazz phrases thrown in so’s you’ll know it’s him. Moderately interesting, and one watches with curiosity to see how a film that favors Third World revolution will fare in a country where the Grenada invasion is currently more popular than Men Without Hats and The Dukes Of Hazzard combined. Meanwhile, Haden’s revival of his Liberation Music Orchestra, which interprets—via Carla Bley’s wonderful arrangements—revolutionary songs from Spain, Chile, Portuga, and El Salvador, doesn’t have quite the panache of the original aggregation being smoother, more reflective, and less given to ecstatic tantrums. But then aren’t we all?R.C.W.

OREGON (ECM):: Your basic Oregon album, though guitarist Ralph Towner has added the Prophet 5 synthesizer to the repertoire, giving the musings a fuller sound. The Flavor Of Green Tea Over Rice Award for most evocative title goes to the group composition “There Was No Moon That Night,” while the Jimmy Joyce Memorial Bronzed Undies are won hands down (as it were) by bassist Glen Moore’s “Impending Bloom.” Good clean elitist fun. R.C.W.

LISA HARTMAN-Letterock (RCA):: A while back Lisa Hartman was the hottest thing on TV (now it’s a toss up between Heather Locklear and Heather Thomas, but that’s another story)— she even had a summer replacement show called Hot, which it was because it gave us Lisa in a variety of flimsy sweat-stained costumes. She also recently starred in a movie called Deadly Blessing which was kind of what everybody really wanted Charlie’s Angels to be like (that too is another story). Anyway, in that film Lisa added to her ever-growing legend by playing a character along the lines of the legendary Z-Man Bartel from Russ Meyers’ epic of mammary, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, a kind of hermaphroditic psycho-hubba as in hubba. And not only that— she can sing!! (Yet another story.) J. the F.

GORDON LIGHTFOOT—Salute (Warner Bros.):: “Listen, mister, I won’t waste your time,” he promises on the opening line of this album and, as everyone should know by now, Gordon Lightfoot is a man of his word. So, while those disrespectful McKenzie boys make jest of the homeland, Mr. Great White North himself honors the provinces with such charmers as “Whispers Of The North” (even Alaska gets a nod—what a magnanimous guy!), the peaceful “Biscuit City” (stresses Gord, “I don’t need no long vacation in some foreign land”—see Canadia first!), the passionate “Knotty Pine” (highlighted by the quip, “all her sap runs free and sticks to me”— hubba hubba!), and our favorite, “Tattoo,” wherein GL, who’d “been drinking all day” (classy, non?) winds up at the neighborhood parlour and emerges from his stupor with a rose on his arm commemorating some lost bimbo. And dig, the melody on the verses is copped straight from “Suzanne” by fellow Canuck Heavy Lenny Cohen. I get it—song pooling, just like car pooling! How cool is cool? His publishing company is Moose Music. B.A.

MOTORHEAD—Another Perfect Day (Mercury):: At last—music to eat light bulbs to. Ambient doom throb stuff laced with the vagaries of beer bottle induced concussions, pool-cue-inthe-nuts aesthetic, and what Mars Bonfire had deep in his subconscious when he penned the classic line, “heavy metal thunder.” Screw all those other highly touted metallists; Motorhead are uncompromising, uncomplaining, uncomplicated fantasts of sonicism. They’re what Kiss always wanted to be, but never had the nerve to be. Their sound and leer have not gone unnoticed in the amarantine fields of Metaluna.

J. the F.

CYNDI LAUPER-She’s So Unusual (Portrait):: Formerly the front-and-center free spirit for the defunct Blue Angel (whose debut LP was one of 1980’s most deeply buried treasures), Ms. Lauper’s first stab at solo stardom isn’t quite the excercise in girl group dementia I was hoping for. Sometimes the songs let her down (so-so originals like “She Bop” and “I’ll Kiss You”); sometimes she lets the songs down (melodramatic remakes of masterworks by the Brains and Prince). Through it all, Cyndi—whose tangy, elastic vocals are a taste worth acquiring—remains as fetchingly irrepressible as ever, whether she’s out-Loviching Lene (“Yeah Yeah”) or throwing around heady statements of purpose (the delirious “Girls Just Want To Have Fun”). I had a good time, flaws and all. C.Z.