ROCK A RAMA
PREFAB SPROUT Swoon (Epic) And this is even stranger: vaguely Donald Fagenish bedsitter cooljazz folk, but from Celtic types who’ve never been to Levittown (never even driven by it in their dog carts). Haute-sophomoric lyrical brainteasers from one “Paddy McAloon,” tarted up with swoopy swoopy Roche-hives vocals courtesy of Wendy Smith.
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ROCK A RAMA
This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were written by Michael Davis, Richard C. Walls, Richard Riegel and Jeffrey Morgan.
PREFAB SPROUT Swoon (Epic)
And this is even stranger: vaguely Donald Fagenish bedsitter cooljazz folk, but from Celtic types who’ve never been to Levittown (never even driven by it in their dog carts). Haute-sophomoric lyrical brainteasers from one “Paddy McAloon,” tarted up with swoopy swoopy Roche-hives vocals courtesy of Wendy Smith. Soft guitars with many strings, but drums whenever you need them, too. Slabs of content in some crosseyed way reminiscent of tickled-until-they-bleed XTC. Not great, necessarily, but more spookily provocative than yer everyday major-label debut. R.R.
ROBERT WYATT 1982—1984 (Rough Trade)
As a member of such bands as Soft Machine and Matching Mole, Wyatt was one of the most creative crazies in British rock, but his current music is as direct and uncluttered as his earlier work was puzzling and provocative. The simple eloquence of his high-pitched voice adds dignity to the songs he chooses to sing, songs that reveal how well/not well human dignity is doing these days, songs like Peter Gabriel’s “Biko,” Elvis Costello’s “Shipbuilding,’’ and Chilean martyr Victor Jara’s “Te Recuerdo Amanda.” Wyatt’s compassion makes these renditions moving and his taste keeps them from becoming too mawkish or overbearing. True men of conscience are rare in rock; we should support the few we have. M.D.
JOHN PATTON Soul Connection (Nilva)
This is what passed for the cutting edge of mainstream jazz in the early-to-mid-’60s and don’t stink too bad in the early to mid-’80s either. Though graced with liner notes the like of which have not been seen since the days of acid peace love grooviness, the music (cut in June ’83) isn’t dated. Organist Patton is more a post-bopper than a funker, and here he’s abetted by unknown-to-this-reviewer tenor man Grant Reed, who is lyrically aggressive in the post-Trane mode, guitarist Melvin Hassan, whose style is reminscent of Grant Green, and trombonist Grachan Moncur III, who briefly opened up his own branch of the avant-garde on Blue Note records about 20 years ago (and drummer Alvin Queen, whose label this is). This is a little gem, a serious but unpretentious set highlighted by a mediumtempo rendition of Moncur’s classic “The Coaster,” which strikes just the right balance between the need to seeing and what you call abstract truth. Worth seeking out. R.C.W.
KAZUMI WATANABE Mobo II (Gramavision)
Japanese guitarist Watanabe has added a new wrinkle to the aging hand of fusion by incorporating reggae rhythms (courtesy of Sly & Robbie) into an already-thick bottom provided by Weather Report drummer Omar Hakim and ex-Miles Davis bassist Marcus Miller. Except for a slowed-down cover of the Ventures’ “Walk Don’t Run,” the previous Mobo I washed itself out with restrained melodies and minimal embellishment atop the tasty rhythmic stew, but, this time around, everybody loosens up a bit. Watanabe himself sounds like an amalgam of every major jazz-rock guitarist of the last 15 years; he may not be an original, but, on “All Beets Are Coming,” he shows he can wail with the big boys. M.D.
SHEILA E.
The Glamourous Life (Warner Bros.)
As I type these letters, the title track is tearing up the Billboard singles chart so you probably don’t need me to tell you that, love him or leave him, Prince ain’t no slouch when it comes to picking new talent. The credits are sketchy, but seeing as how the second track on side one (an instrumental, no less—and how’s that for chutzpah?) was co-written with the Time’s Jesse Johnson, it’s anyone’s guess as to how many other members of the Time and the Revolution are in the mix. And lest you think that this is some kinda Sleeze Rock, lemme tell ya: this is one of the most moral debut albums to come down the pike in a long time. Infectious, too. J.M.
ARMORED SAINT March Of The Saint (Chrysalis)
These metal men have the kind of rugged good looks that’ve already inspired audiences from coast to coast to demand that Kiss put their makeup back on, so Armored Saint should raise a comparable popular outcry. Like Judas Priest, these stud freaks think that doing leather and motorcycles somehow makes them equivalent to the crusader knights of old. Too bad that their knight’s-helmet logo uncannily resembles the ill-drawn example you’d find on a 25$ pack of rubbers. R.R.
CHICO FREEMAN Tangents (Elektra/Musician)
Multi-reed player Freeman sure named his new album right ’cause the music here seems to move off in a new direction every time you’ve figured out the old one. Fortunately, Chico’s explorations often yield high grade results, like the attractively angular bounce he gives the melodies and the unusually effective ways he uses synthesizers on a couple of tracks. With two other first-rate sax men on the date, Freeman’s own playing doesn’t stand out as much as Bobby McFerrin’s nutty-but-utterlymusical singing; hear him bippity-bopping between the horn lines on most of side two and you’re not likely to soon forget it. M.D.
