45 REVELATIONS

45 REVELATIONS

Ken Barnes

by

My big problem as a practicing rock critic (not that it takes much practice) has been liking too much. Too many records, too many diverse styles. My tolerant tastes tend to put off readers and other writers, blessed as they are with the certitude of the narrowly righteous. And I'm denied the valuable luxury of monomaniacal literary savagery, on which rock critic reputations are built. All the really vivid vocabulary in the critical lexicon is negative, words like 'vacuous' and 'twaddle' and 'pathetic,' but nothing, not even an old Blood, Sweat & Tears record, sounds offensive enough for me to requisition those adjectives of assault from the arsenal.

I began as a perfectly orthodox early '70s rock critic—loved my Big Star and New York Dolls and Velvet Underground and Stooges and all the required listening of the era (still do, in fact), and parroted the party line on the power of pop. Then a few alien elements started creeping in to my writing—a little KC & The Sunshine Band on one end, Kiss on the other; people started shaking their heads and crossing streets to avoid me.

Then the punk 'explosion' burst, and I went wild for the Pistols, Clash, the Jam, but also still liked Fleetwood Mac and Abba and ended up pleasing no one. And then came disco, 'Stayin' Alive' and Chic and such, and I started devoting whole columns to dance and black music and lost three-quarters of what few readers remained. Subsequently, along came synthesizer pop and hiphop, modern-era heavy metal and mainstream AOR, and 1 liked chunks of each and alienated more of the audience.

All of which is to say, if you like one kind of music you'll find a few things to cheer in this column and a lot more to tick you off. If you go for wittily-worded demolition jobs on the fab platters of the day, you won't find them here. I've got too many records I like that I want to write about, to waste space on the hatchet job.

As a further CREEM readers' guide to my accommodating tastes, I thought I'd go over a current national Top 40 (as of this writing June 29) and hit my highlights. Elitists and progressive radio fans will be thrilled to learn that I like most of the chart, 58 percent of it, can tolerate another 30 percent, and actively dislike only 12 percent.

Topping the chart at #1 and #2 are 'Dancing In The Dark' (covered last month and holding up sturdily) and Prince's 'When Doves Cry,' which can get monotonous but has a neat basic riff and is undeniably catchy. Ray Parker Jr. is the consummate riff burglar of his generation, blatantly borrowing 'Every Breath You Take' for his last hit, 'I Still Can't Get Over Loving You' (even quoting Sting within) and now appropriating M's 'Pop Muzik' for the likable 'Ghostbusters.'

Laura Branigan's 'Self Control' is jittery and rather haunting. The Thompson Twins ('Doctor Doctor') and Cars ('Magic') refine successful formulas for pleasant results. Huey Lewis's 'Heart Of Rock & Roll' transcends apparent undistinctiveness and turns out uplifting. The Pointer Sisters' 'Jump (For My Love)' is sprightly and Ollie & Jerry's 'Breakin' ' is certainly the accessible side of break dancing (I wouldn't be surprised if most suburban kids hated the breaking phenomenon even more than disco, as it's every bit as culturally alien and even harder to execute properly).

Van Halen's 'Panama' is a guitar monster, and Wang Chung's 'Dance Hall Days' has perverse lyrics and an infectious sound. Tina Turner's 'What's Love Got To Do With It' is slinkily attractive and 'Turn To You' by the GoGo's is a ferocious rocker.

OK, you get the picture. I'd like to see more good black hits cross over, and a few CHR (contemporary hit radio) standbys lose their automatic hit status, but CHR is a nice mix these days. And whether you like it or not, pop hits are the important records, the ones that become a shared experience for millions and the sound tracks (dramatic pause) of our lives.

Not that we should stop looking for good music beyond the Top 40. Following are some of the more noteworthy recent singles. With my bias toward female singers, I'm knocked out by the Bangles, whose principal lead singer, Susanna Hoffs, is one of the brightest talents in years. 'Hero Takes A Fall' is a sparkling single, crisp guitars and harmonies. (You can hear more of Susanna singing the Dylan/Nico number 'I'll Keep It With Mine' on a U.K. single by Rainy Day.) Scandal have divested themselves of their cartoon new wave trappings and gone mainstream AOR on 'The Warrior,' and it's a rousing example of the best of the form.

Tracey Ullman's 'Breakaway' speeds up an old Irma Thomas tune into a giddy girl group delight, while Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin transform the Four Tops' 'I'm In A Different World' into a lush and velvety concoction reminiscent of the Carpenters' best (a flattering comparision from me). And Grace Knight of Australia's Eurogliders is another new singer to listen for; she sounds like a less quirky Annie Lennox on 'Heaven,' a solid record despite the handicap of massed banks of synthesizers that have painstakingly and pointlessly mastered the technique of sounding just like a bandstand full of clarinets.

My standout R&B single is by the should-belegendary Ted Taylor, whose shrieking falsetto 'Ramblin' Rose' was covered as faithfully as possible by the MC5. After over 25 years that voice is unearthly as ever on 'I Let You Hurt Me Too Long,' and the bluesy riffing is a knockout. David Lasley has a falsetto that could qualify him as the white Ted Taylor, but on the poppy 'It's A Cryin' Shame' he's more like the Lou Christie of the '80s (and the comparisons don't come any more flattering from me).

Mtume's majestic 'Juicy Fruit' was my favorite record of 1983, and 'You Me & He' exploits the same stately, dead-slow groove to only slightly less impressive effect. Shannon's 'My Heart's Divided' makes three good ones in a row, with the same relentlessly twittering production effects and heavy beat, though less intense than 'Give Me Tonight.' And although Evelyn 'Champagne' King may not be one any more, 'Teenager' is a breathy girl-group treat.

Nirvana sounds just like Madonna on 'Jump Time,' and since Madonna's first album was just about my fave longplayer last year, this kind of flattering imitation scores with me. On 'Your Wife's Cheating On Us,' Richard 'Dimples' Fields borrows a 'Billie Jean' beat tQ depict a bizarre menage a quatre wracked by perfidies so brazen that 'even Stevie can see' them. And George McCrae (of 'Rock Your Baby' fame) fits into a solid Luther Vandross bag on the stylish 'Own The Night.'

Over in England, the gloom-ridden Smiths are almost parodying themselves on 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now,' but I still succumb to Johnny Marr's amazing trained guitars, and the 12-inch's flip, 'Girl Afraid,' is a gorgeous guitar showcase. Another good flip is Elvis Costello's 'Turning The Town Red,' the theme for a British TV show he's starring in and thankfully an excellent song in which the lyrical density doesn't smother the melody line. 'Never Never' by the Assembly, featuring Vince Clarke of Yazoo and Jc the vocals of ex-Undertone Feargal Sharkey, s proves that synths can produce heartbreakingly -§ pretty pop. Not exactly heartbreakingly pretty, the E Damned are electrifying on the hard-rocking, psychedelically-tinged 'Thanks For The Night' and its appropriately-titled flip, 'Nasty.' Billy Rankin, the ex-Nazareth guitarist, has a nice line in hooky AOR rock fodder, as demonstrated on 'Call Me Automatic.' And new U.K. rocker Zerra I have their U2 down cold on 'Ten Thousand Voices, Message From The People.'

Finally, that diatribe I delivered to British writers about missing the point on the stunning Bananarama record goes double for the American critical coterie—except for CREEM's own Mitch Cohen, who seems never to be wrong, everyone has slipped on the obvious appeal of this enchanting group, and it breeds in me vast contempt with plenty dispair for the dismal taste of contemporary U.S. rock scribes. Listen to Bananarama's new U.S. single, the sublime 'Cruel Summer,' and see for yourself if they're not crazy. (Address for the rather obscure Ted Taylor release: Solpugits Records, P.O. Box 5415, Gardena, CA 90040.) #