ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK A RAMA

This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were by Jeffrey Morgan (Mr. T), John Morthland, Richard Riegel, Richard C. Walls and Craig Zeller.

FIRETONES-Trouble (Warner Sisters EP):s Ever notice all those frayed hunks of truck tires laying in the freeway? Well, the Firetones happen to be the shredded tread of the old Rubber City Rebels, a biased-ply band from Akron who burnt the gummy stuff to little popular gvail in at least two previous go-rounds of “punkrock.” Vocalist Rod “Bent” Firestone and guitarist Johnny “Bethesda” Lyon survive from the old Rebels, while they’ve been hopefully retreaded by the addition of bassist Randy Rice, once of the Eric Burdon Band(l). Rod Firestone’s still carrying a chip on his shoulder ’cause of being born with a wide whitewall in his mouth, but his petulance is taking forms more powerpop (q.v.) than punk by now. OK stuff in itself, but we gets gimmicks too: both sides of the record have the same four songs, plus the Moshe Brakha cover shot is ripe with assorted fetish hotchas (but no rubber—whadya think these guys are?) Should be a good year for ’em. Warner Sisters Records, 922 6th St. #8, Santa Monica, CA 90403.R.R. UNITS—New Way To Move (Epic):: Fqirly new SanFran group on their first major-label album outing exhibit highly charitable domestic synthpop fashionability. Very addictive beats, male/female tradeoff vocals: actually this reminds me a lot of the Human League. (That’s a compliment, Units, even if you think—being from S.F. and all—that you’ve got “higher” artistic aims.) And of course these Units would look just ducky in a clever video. Faster, faster! R.R,

THE RUBINOOS-Party Of Two (Warner Bros.):: After four years between records, the Rubinoos have re-emerged as a duo with major label backing, big time producer and back-up band (T. Rundgren and Utopia), a more mature approach to songwriting.. .and what a flop return it is. This five-song EP has one cut (“The Girl”) that remotely recalls the teen exuberance of their ’77 debut LP. The rest is a feeble mishmash which flirts pitifully with AOR pop and MOR balladeering and with DOA imagination. Boys, you’ve grown up. My condolences. C.Z.

VARIOUS ARTISTS-The Jazz Trumpet Volume 2: Modern Time (Prestige):: There’s a Vol. 1 too (Classic Jazz To Swing) that 1 don’t feel qualified to comment on, but I can tell you that this volume which features 17 big name hoppers and post-boppers and is heavy on the ballads and standards (the K-tel approach), is haphazard and unfocused but harmless fun and contains some very good music as well. Aside from all that, does anyone know why the two be-boppers here have goofy names (Dizzy and Fats), the postboppers have stodgy Anglo-Saxon ones (Miles, Clifford, Clark, Arthur) while the two avant-

gardists are both named Don (Ellis and Cherry)? What can it mean? R.C.W.

MR, T—My Favorite Things (T-Nek):: Wherein the former Mr. Tero wraps his vocal cords around a barrage of well-known songs from some of the greatest rock bands ever, including the Beatles (“Fool On The Hill”), the Stones (“Fool To Cry”), the Who (“Won’t Get Fooled Again”), Bryan Ferry (“These Foolish Things”), Elvis (“A Fool Such As I”), and even Foghat (“Fool For The City”). Add to this two of his own compositions (the uptempo “Shut Up, You Crazy Fool” and the somewhat out-of-place ballad “Any Man Who Don’t Like His Mother Ain’t No Friend Of Mine”), and you’ve got a collection that even Murdoch would go for. T wrecks? You betcha. (I love it when a Rama comes together.) J.M. BEST OF STUDIO ONE (Heartbeat):: This essential anthology from Rounder’s reggae subsidiary documents the career of the hustling, pioneering Jamaican producer Cpxsone Dodd, who had an unfailing ear for (distinctive yoices like Alton Ellis, Johnnie Osbourne, Dennis prown, the Heptones, Slim Smith, the Gladiators, Siugar Minott, the Wailing Souls and others. In the early ’60s, when Dodd quit deejaying to produce, he moved the music from ska into rock steady, favoring artists who were smooth, sweet and melodic; though not essential, it also helped if the artist ignored politics and religion, though as the sound hardened into reggae, Rasta, and polemics in the ’70s, Dodd evolved right along with it. J.M. MELISSA MANCHESTER - Emergency (Arista):: Images can be deceiving, as the pld guru said, but 1 can’t suppress a chuckle at Ms. Manchester’s album-cover evolution from (stylized) ethno-earthmother to (stylized) cabaretdominatrix, in less than a decade. What does that say about our times? Not much, probably, as this record demonstrates that Manchester still manufactures her singer-songwritery pop in some suburban office of the Brill Bldg., where all the cityscqpe love tangles get the (stylized) treatment. Maybe she thinks she’s competing with Billy Joel for some sort of pop-chameleon quick-change award. R.R.

JOHNNY GRIFFIN-Call It Whachawana (Galaxy):: Griffin is the legendary post-pop Chicagoan tenor saxist who, on an almost annual basis, lets drop with no-nonsense acoustic jazz interpolations, and general soulfulness that separates the greats from the competents. There’s often a kind of business-as-usual aura about these sets, excellent as they are, but this one, a quartet date, is distinguished by a killer rendition of the standard “Lover Man”—alternating swooning romanticism with hard-edged blues licks, Griffin displays a depth of feeling and intelligence that kicks the booty of such pseudo jazz “funk” poseurs as (but why mention names?). The real thing!

R.C.W.

BAD RELIGION ~ Into The Unknown (Epitaph):: Punk puritans even in their hardcore wham-bam-no-thank-you-damn days (last year), Bad Religion now forcibly aspire to more “progressive” rock, and their combination of hardedged pieties with AOR harmonies and pompy flourishes produces more than a few anxious moments on this album. “Million Days” sounds like Jethro Tull gone awkwardly powerpop (Ian A. flat on his horseface), while “Time And Disregard” seems to provide exact competition for Men Without Hats in the metal-madrigal dept., until B.R. salvage the dwarf song by tossing in a we’re-still-Califomians! “condominium” ref at the last moment. But then “Billy Gnosis” harkens back to B.O.C. in their heavier-credibility days, and helps sum up the new Bad Religion: flawed but healthily groping. R.R.