ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK-A-RAMA

This month's Rock-A-Ramas were written by Richard Riegel, Billy Altman, Richard C. Walls, Jon Young and Mitchell Cohen.

OLIVER NELSON WITH ERIC DOLPHY

Straight Ahead (New Jazz)

A reissue of an early '60s date with Dolphy wreaking meaningful havoc on Nelson's bluesy structures while Nelson himself improvises in a conceptually confident manner—though it's the different effects that the bluesy ranconteur and the free-associating speed-rapper have on each other which keep the record interesting (My Dinner With Eric?). Also notable is Dolphy's bass clarinet spot on 'Ralph's New Blues,' which annotator Joe Goldberg calls 'one of his best recorded solos,' and I think he's right. Another budget buy in the Original Jazz Classics series. R.C.W.

SAFETY LAST

Struck By Love (Twin/Tone)

One of the biggest problems with the rockabilly revival has been that very little of it has succeeded in sounding neither traipsing-on-hallowedground leadfooted or protractedly loosey-goosey cartoon-like. Luckily, this Midwestern quartet could seem to care less about degrees of solemnity or coolness; sure, they know their Gene Vincent records inside out, as guitarist Gary Louris's Cliff Gallup twangs attest, and, yes, Rusty Jones gets his Eddie Cochran fun out of 'I'm A Cat Alright.' But with secret weapon Lianne Smith swingin' through the Wanda Jackson/pre-'Where The Boys Are' Connie Francis cool hand mama '50s lusty femme axis, the band hits new grounds of retro-hip. Sit still for 'Baby Blue Rock' or 'Red Rocket' and you're a sad sack, Jack, in need of a good lube, Rube. B.A.

MAMA'S BOYS

(Jive/Arista)

This is surely metal the ever-multiplying ranks of metal paranoiacs won't have to fear, as it's performed by a power trio of hoarse-voiced Irish brothers who claim to have been traditional folk musicians in a past top-o'-the-morning life. Inevitably their metal's smoothed out with melodic fiddles, same Celtic gimmick even Slade has bowed to by now. Check out Mama's Boys' version of Slade's (where have I heard that name?) 'Mama Weer All Crazee Now' for some truly ethereal metal, if yer game for such trifling with the holy grunge. I dunno, maybe it's time for Rory Gallagher to make his move... R.R.

KEVIN DUNN

C'est tourjours la meme guitar (Press) Atlanta's Kevin Dunn already has a handful of cool credits: ex-Fans, cult band of 'Telstar' cover fame; co-producer of the B-52's first single, 'Rock Lobster'; and a great wacko 45 of Chuck Berry s 'Nadine.' All of this pales, however, next to C'est toujours la meme guitar, 23-plus minutes of a disintegrated mind running free. Dunn plays dreamy Fripp-like guitar, sings in a haunted trance, and speaks a trouble language. (Example: 'I'm loving something that's disguised as you.') The creepy capper is 'Mona'—same bumpy ride as Bo Diddley's original, but drooling and febrile instead of merely lustful. Delicious! In a sick way, of course. J.Y.

BON JOVI

(Mercury)

You know what's weird? On this rather brash debut album, Tony Bogiovi and the rest of his popmetalmeisters get you thinking not of themselves, but of all the places they're copping their steals from—a Squier squeal on the semihit 'Runaway,' some guitars plus melodrama maybe equals success on the demi-Def Leppard 'Roulette,' even some never-fail guitar hotchas from 'Highway Star' on 'Burnin' For Love.' In fact, 'Get Ready' features so many out-and-out swipes, I can't even begin to list 'em without getting alphabetical about it. You know what's even weirder? These songs still somehow manage to hold up. If it sells, I wouldn't be surprised. Invisible music's funny that way. B.A.

PAT WILSON

Bop Girl (Warner Bros.)

Somehow I know we're in for more & more records like this one—by aggressively trashkultured wimmen—in the next few years. Apres Cyndi Lauper the deluge, which is more than fine with me, of course. Mrs. Wilson's claim to fame is she's Australian, a late-blooming pop nationality that's been in the spotlight much of late. You may know the title track from clubland already; balance of this mini-LP is more of the same spelunkerfunker cross between Toni Basil and the B-52's. Familiar tickle-bop percussion, plus plenty of those groovy farfisal squeezles on the keyboards.R.R.

BONNIE HAYES AND THE WILD COMBO Brave New Girl (Bondage)

Bonnie Hayes captures the edgy discontent of a lot of unattached people 'waiting for the spark,' vacillating between assertive resolve and what-thefuck wallowing, on songs such as 'Incommunicado,' 'After Hours' (a dead ringer for the impressionist meariderings of Rickie Lee Jones) and 'Wild Heart.' On this six-cut record she's more subdued than on her fizzy '82 LP debut (w/'Shelly's Boyfriend,' 'Girls Like Me' and other delightful mergers of power-pop pizazz and girl-group ebullience), but her tales of postbreakup remorse are affectingly rendered. Especially 'Night Baseball,' wherein she pines for the spring nights at Candlestick Park (she must like sub-Arctic regions) with her ex-sweetie by her side. To be out of love and a Giants fan. Is there a sadder predicament? (Available from Bondage Records, 1264-17 Ave., San Francisco, CA 94122.) M.C.

TYRONE BRUNSON

Fresh (Believe In A Dream)

Not exactly yer average James Blood Ulmer, Tyrone Brunson's heavy on the vocoder and other props in these funk guitar & bass workouts, but it all sounds good, especially after a night of those sober English synthpoppers. Brunson's vocals exhibit plenty of flex feeling to contrast with the robotics of the dance music—get 'Servo-GoGo' now. The funkers alternate with luv ballads as per usual on these sets; the guy knows how to work a crowd by now, after all. Yes. R.R.