CHRISTGAU CONSUMER GUIDE

CHRISTGAU CONSUMER GUIDE

DEPARTMENTS

ABC

�How To Be A Zillionaire�

(Mercury)

The look of the Mark I ABC fooled Anglophobes into dismissing the music as fashion-plated pandering even though it was as politically suggestive as U. S. Anglophilia gets. So don�t let the look of the Mark II ABC fool you into hoping the music is outrageous, or even campy except in a Bryan Ferry twice-removed way. Sure �Be Near You�, is catchier than anything on the underrated superflop Beauty Stab, but when Martin Fry is on his game the hooks that make ABC sell coexist with the glossy electrofunk and dense wordplay that make (or made) them sparkle. As a great romantic he�s just trying for a comeback. B -

KURTIS BLOW �America�

(Mercury)

Blow�s pop credibility soared when he finally got one of his precious femme choruses on the radio, ruining the otherwise serviceable �Basketball� rap. There�s nothing quite so intrusive here, and Blow�s singing has come up some—in fact, he�s now just what the world needed, another serviceable funk loverboy. Fortunately, he can still talk that talk, and his reunion with Davy DMK makes a lot of noise. B

THE BOOGIE BOYS �City Life�

(Capitol)

�Here is proof that rapp is music,� only don�t worry, it isn�t as bad as that. Just another electrofunk-based album from Bboys stale before their time. They spin off some unlikely rhymes—�bank accounts� and �name�s pronounced,� fresh indeed— and a great many insults that boil down to �you don�t smell good.� And for better or worse, they never emanate more charm than when they sing a sad it-ain�t-me babe called �Runnin� From Your Love.� B

MORRIS DAY �Color Of Success�

(Warner Bros.)

Morris thinks now that he�s a movie star he can cover his flanks and go straight. After all, it�s his sidelong synthbeats that gets people out on the floor and into the stores— all that tasteless, comically cocksure overstatement was just a way to get the music noticed. I think people want the beat and comedy both. We shall see. B -

SHEILA E.

�Sheila E. In Romance 1600� (Warner Bros.)

Joining her playmates� game of can-you-topthis with a ringleader�s enthusiasm she gives full rein to her imagination, such as it is. And comes up with several intelligent enigmas and two almost orgies deeply influenced by Hollywood costume drama. It�s got Some arty passages, and you oan dance to. it. ■ ' B.

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

THE FAMILY (Warner Bros')

Paisley Park�s attempt to pick up where the Time left off, this has the beats to prove it; but the best of them is cursed with a witlessly glamorous ersatz-Morris vocal and lyric and two .others are instrumentals. Then there�s the slow stuff, most of it cursed with damply purple ersatz-Prince vocal and lyric. Maybe some enterprising rapper will rip off the tracks. Till then, this Inspirational Verse; �Your body it covers my tower/ Ecstasy is ours.� C +

BRYAN FERRY �Boys And Girls�

(Warner Bros.)

Sure, �make believing is the real thing.� When Ferry is grooving, though, the emphasis is on the makebelieve, not the real. Here there�s heavy slippage, especially on side one. His voice thicker and more mucid, his tempos dragging despite all the fancy beats he�s bought, he runs an ever steeper risk of turning into the romantic obsessive he�s always played so zealously. B -

■■ FREDDIE JACKSON ■■ �Rock Me Tonight�

(Capitol)

To compare the latest platinum love man to Marvin Gaye is to ignore his voice. If Luther Vandross relaxed more and (what may be the same thing) sold himself love man, first and singer second, this is how he�d sound. A pure makeout record—mellow groove, mellow sound, just lie back and enjoy it. B

MARTI JONES �Unsophisticated Time�

(A & M)

Suggesting both Dusty Springfield�s breathy yearning and Karen Carpenter�s AM plainstyle, Jones is a Bonnie Ronstadt for the local-band era—a nonwriter ready to raid the enormous store of good songs only pop cultists have ever heard. Of course, in the QHR era her audience may never get beyond pop cultists, which would be doubly unjust: it�s bad enough when dB�s album leads off with two Peter Holsapple sure shots and stiffs, but this record leads off with two Peter Holsapple sure shots and then goes on to mine Richard Barone, Elvis Costello, ever) prodycer-svengaii Don Dixon. And topping them all is a loony vow of romantic dfevotion called �Follow You All Over, the World,� by. one B. Simpson. Wonder how many more Bb Simpsons have hidden such stuff away on their demo cassettes. (Please do not mail tapes to CREEM; Donald Dixon, c/o A & M Records, 595 Madison Avenue, will do fine.) A -

KRUSH GROOVE (Warner Bros.)

Whether the ecumenicism is a musical leap forward or a commercial hedge, it does integrate the strong voices of Sheila E., Chaka Khan, and too-long-gone Debbie Harry into Russell Simmon�s very male roster, and

unlike the Gap Band and the Force M.D.�s, the ladies keep things moving. But the krush grooves are two Rick Rubin metal-rap steamrollers. And for some reason the stars only make the credit medley. B +

NILS LOFGREN �Flip�

(Columbia)

The wuntime wunderkind is �talkin� bout survival,� which he at least points out beats �self denial,� and I guess it�s a small miracle that he�s no longer the blistering never-was of the late �70s. But 1983�s Wonderland testified more gracefully to his eternal youth, and even there it was hard to tell what he�d learned since 1971. To seek eternal youth in the absence of temporal wisdom is one of the great American vices, and most Americans aren�t even wise enough to know it. C +

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 26

LOST IN THE STARS:

The Music off Kurt Weill (A & M)

First time I heard this I started muttering, �Kurt Weill invented rock �n� roll,� which I report only to indicate how turned on I was, because it�s ridiculous— Weill really only invented rock. Milking abrasive pop for outreach and meaning, he had more in common with Dylan and Newman than with Porter and Berlin, and the rock artistes who takes their turns on this sequel to Hal Winner�s 1983 Monk tribute sound completely at home. You can imagine improvements on some of Winner�s choices— David Jo rather than Sting on �Mack The Knife,� the Clash rather than Stanard Ridgeway on �Cannon Song,� etc.—but that�s a parlor game. With Lou Reed�s �September Song� and Marianne Faithfull�s �Ballad Of A Soldier�s Wife� the unmitigated triumphs, every track on this hourlong disc holds its own. Introduce yourself to one of the century�s greatest songwriters and composers. Or augment your Weill collection and be glad you did. A

JONI MITCHELL �Dog Eat Dog�

(Geffen)

When you peruse the lyrics, which are of course provided, the rage she directs at �Snakebite evangelists and racketeers/And big wig financiers� seems like the usual none-too-deep left-liberal modernism—a �culture in decline� enthralled by hedonism and rapacity and the image, tsk-tsk. But by taking her mind off her ever-loving self she�s broken a long drought. There�s no whatshall-l-do ennui in her singing; she isn�t musing, she�s telling us something, and her interest in those well-expressed middlebrow cliches comes through. Damned if I can tell just what Thomas Dolby has done for her jazzbo sound, but I suspect he helps as well. Maybe he convinced her it was pop. A -

RAY PARKER JR.

�Sex And The Single Man�

(Arista)

Maybe Ray is getting jaded—pussy comes so easy now that he no longer bothers to hone his come-on. Whether he�s scoring on sensitivity (oh really, �Men Have Feelings Too�?) or studsmanship (though I do enjoy the bone and puddy-tat lines in �I�m A Dog�), he�s putting out just enough to get her into the car. The sole exception is �I�m In Love, � in which a workaholic falls for �an interesting girl� who doesn�t have a job. Workaholic—now that sounds like the real Ray to me. B -

THOMPSON TWINS �Here�s To Future Days�

(Arista)

In no time at all you could have this case study in the limits of catchy coming out of your ears. So unless your idea of fun is humming �And feel the grace/And sense the magic of your touch� for three days, keep your distance. B -

TOM WAITS �Rain Dogs�

(Island)

By pigging out on a 19-track LP that extends 54 minutes without a bad cut, Waits demonstrates how definitively he�s outgrown the bleary self-indulgences— booze, bathos, beatnikism—that bogged down his 70s. He�s in control of his excesses now, and although his backing musicians shift constantly, he�s worked out a unique and identifiable lounge lizard sound that suits his status as the poet of America�s nonnine-to-fivers. But the sheer bulk of the thing gets wearing; it doesn�t peak the way a prized album should. I wish he�d figured out a way to throw �Union Square,� �Cemetery Polka,� and �Clap Hands� into sharper relief. And realize that those might not even be his high points, or yours. B +

STEVIE WONDER �In Square Circle'�

(Tamla)

Compare this to the others in your head and you�ll be hard-pressed to specify what�s missing, but slap on Talking Book or Hotter Than July and you�ll hear how cushy it is— poly-rhythmic pop rather than polyrhythmic rock. Stevie�s effervescence is so indomitable that it�s a pleasure even so, but nothing rises far enough out of the stew— �Land Of La La� is no �Living For The City,� �Part Time Lover� no �I Just Called To Say I Love You,� etc. Then there�s the infectious �Spiritual Walkers,� in which Stevie gives it up to Hare Krishna and witnesses for the Witnesses. B +

ZZ Top �Afterburner"

(Warner Bros.)

I reserve the right to fall in love with this a year from now, with hit number four on CHR, sales pushing 10 mill, and two beards and a Beard at every checkout counter. I also reserve the right to be sick of it, or to gloat over its double-platinum flopperoo. Because all I can know right now about this hard boogieing market strategy is that it�s defined by its commercial ambition—by its all but announced intention of making ZZ the next Bruce/Madonna/Prince/Michael. The Trevor Hornish synth touches and outfront hooks are clues, but the proof is �Rough Boy,� a top-five ballad that would sound like pure macho take-me-or-leave-me revved up to double-time. B