ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK · A · RAMA

DEPARTMENTS

This month�s Rock-A-Ramas were written by Michael Davis, Jon Young, Richard Riegel, Bill Holdship, Richard C. Walls, and Dave Segal.

WATERBOYS This Is The Sea (Island)

It appears that the Waterboys are finding out that their music sounds bigger if they don�t constantly force their dramatic impulses on it. Mike Scott�s muse may still drink downstream from the likes of Dylan, Phil Spector, Van Morrison and Patti Smith, but his voice and vision are increasingly his own. Wonder and anger continue to arm wrestle in his romantic imagery but the band�s sound is tougher than before, even when they gotta go play borrow-thedrummer. In short, there�s improvement on several fronts here; this is a good�n, gang.M.D.

JANE WIEDLIN (l-RS.)

Wiedlin jumped ship before the Go-Go�s sank for good, which earns her a medal for foresight. She also deserves a hearing from those who preferred the band�s less predictable side, �cause it�s on full display in this encouraging solo debut. Though classic pop cliches abound, Wiedlin smartly bends them enough to produce new perspectives, kaleidoscope-style. Cases in point: �Sometimes You Really Get On My Nerves� mixes blunt lyrics with an idiotically bouncy melody, and �One Hundred Years of Solitude� uses cool goosebump harmonies to lend an exotic tinge to standard romantic misery. Only the utopian �Goodbye Cruel World,� with its precious children�s chorus, takes the easy, sentimental route. Otherwise, Wiedlin�s so appealing you won�t even mind her modest vocal powers. Honest. J.Y.

CLARENCE CLEMONS Hero

(Columbia)

Of course he�ll always remain �Big Man� to the 20 zillion Springsteen fans, but from this album forward he�s officially �Mokshagun� Clarence Clemons, in the grand tradition of �Devadip� Carlos Santana. Seems that �Narada� Michael Walden got to Clemons with guru Sri Chinmoy�s teachings while they were making this album, and the Big Man fell real hard. Myself, I hope this namegame religion spreads thru the whole gang—think of it: �Joiseyboss� Bruce Springsteen, followed by �Hamtramckagun� Dave Marsh! Can�t wait! Oh yeah, this album�s all good-natured current pop, much like Aretha Franklin�s recent stuff (same N. M. Walden/Jeffrey Cohen writing team). Bluesy vocals from Mr. Clemons, plus plenty of his trademark l-have-to-pee-REAL-bad tenor sax for the faithful. Not to mention his hit duet on �You�re A Friend Of Mine� with �Wimpadip� Jackson Browne. R.R.

ROBIN TROWER Beyond The Mist (Passport)

Dunno what the market�s like for returning guitar heroes this month, but here�s Robin Trower back to give it another try with a mostly live LP. Can�t say I care much for his boyish new singer—who sounds like Bob Welch�s little brother—but Trower is clearly inspired by his new bandmates, letting loose with his most consistently intense playing in 10 years, making the world safe for wah-wah pedals in the process. Whether it�s enough to wake up the guy�s long-slumbering career is kinda iffy, but in an age when Golden Earring can stage a successful comeback, anything�s possible. M.D.

VARIOUS ARTISTS When Monkeys Were Gods! (Tremor/Metro America)

This is the latest compilation of several current Detroit bands, and the material ranges from A/uggefs-influenced garage rock to �art� statements to not one but two Cramps soundalikes. The best of the bunch here includes the melodic hard pop of the all-female Vertical Pillows, the dynamic unrehabilitated �punk� of Cinecyde and the exceptional Iggy-meets-James Brown camp of Bootsey X & The Lovemasters (the funniest band in Detroit, and one of the current acts that can make me smile through an entire show). The recording doesn�t fully capture these bands at their live best, but there are some genuine, excellent roots on display here. Hopefully, we�ll be hearing full-length LPs from the three aforementioned acts in the near future (103 Forest, Royal Oak, Ml 48067). B.H

WALL OF VOODOO

Seven Days in Sammystown (l-RS.)

Hey oldsters, remember how pathetic Mott The Hoople became after Ian Hunter left? The first Wall Of Voodoo LP following the departure of head priest Stan Ridgway doesn�t plumb those disgraceful depths, but there�s little to cheer, either. Sammystown begins on a promising enough note, with �Far Side Of Crazy� taking a genuinely creepy walk along the sometimes thin line between obsessive fans and star killers such as Mark David Chapman. �I hid my lust for fame like a dirty magazine,� observes new singer Andy Prieboy matterof-factly, and your hair begins to stand on end. The rest, alas, is formulaic quirk-rock, shaped by Marc Moreland�s droll, twangy guitars and Chas T. Gray�s horror-movie synths. Can�t knock those two for doing their thing—after all, they played a big role in the sound of the original band. Instead, blame Prieboy, who slavishly imitates Ridgway�s every sardonic inflection without picking up on his predecessor�s humor.. Whiph spells dull. No magic here! J.Y.

OLIVER LAKE Expandable Language (Black Saint)

GERI ALLEN The Printmakers (Minor Music)

Alto saxophonist Lake has created his solidest album in some times, the closest to a blowing session that these avant-fellers get. From cool flutework to nod-time sax rave-ups, tart and loquacious, Lake really cooks, abetted by enlightening solos from guitarist Kevin Eubanks and up-and-coming pianist Allen, whose running-in-place energized phrase dissections are both witty and deadly serious. On her album, a trio session, Allen gets to really show her range and why she�s considered such a hot new item, revealing both a striking rhythmic intensity and an attractively lyrical side. With the legendary Andrew Cyrille as the percussionist.

R.C.W.

FELT

Ignite The Seven Cannons (Cherry Red import)

After four LPs, Felt�s antiseptic beauty has yet to crumble. Cocteau Twin Robin Guthrie gives Felt their usual immaculate production, but he also fleshes out their customary sparseness. Guitarists Lawrence and Deebank and keyboard man Duffy make about as clean a sound as I�ve ever heard. But in this rare case, cleanliness is next to godliness. This LP is saturated with tunes of fragile beauty, the 11 songs are poppy but never in an obvious way. The typical Felt song gently oozes put of the speakers and generally evokes a blissful ennui, helped a great deal by Lawrence�s Lou Reed-under-sedation vocals. He writes oblique, introspective poems—lovely and impenetrable things. Like all Felt records there�s a Victorian obsession with purity— of sound, that is. An LP of many quiet, subtle rewards, it is Felt�s best to date! D.S.

HOODOO GURUS Mars Needs Guitars!

(Big Time)

The existence of the Hoodoo Gurus would seem to offer conclusive proof that there are garages down under. No, not places to park cars. Places to get together with your guitarplaying buddies and turn your amps up to 10, thereby giving the Byrds and Yardbirds in the backyard the Cramps. The Hoodoo Gurus may be a bit more refined than some of their garage-rock competition, but David Faulkner is certainly a better songwriter than most in this genre, mixing humor and history hilariously in tunes like �Hayride To Hell.�

M.D.

LESTER BOWIE�S BRASS FANTASY I Only Have Eyes For You (ECM)

Eight brass players and one drummer may sound like a gimmick, and a particularly limiting one, but Art Ensemble of Chicago trumpeter Bowie�s taste for eclecticism and the carefully crafted and uncredited arrangements keep the program interesting. Bowie�s gently mocking nostalgia is evident on the doo-wop title cut and the New Orleans spiritual �When The Spirit Returns� (actually a Bowie original), and no matter what genre is being essayed, post-modern chaos hovers in the wings. The concept reaches some kinda peak on trombonist Bruce Purse�s �Lament� which encompasses both free-floating mutterings a la Roscoe Mitchell�s �Sound� and a lovely Sketches Of Spain-type interlude. Only tubaist Bob Stewart�s �Nonet� resorts to conventional big band brass screams. But in this context you can figure it�s meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Or sentimental. Or both.

R.C.W.

DEXTER GORDON Nights At The Keystone (Blue Note)

One Flight Up (Blue Note)

The Keystone album was recorded live in �79, not long after tenor saxophonist Gordon�s triumphant return to America following a decade or so of expatriation. A tworecord quartet session, its highlights are Gordon�s sexy balladeering and his boppish authority on the mid-to-up tempo cuts. Gordon is a link between golden age giants like Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young and mad revolutionaries like John Coltrane— but even if you�re foggy about the lineage you�ll respond to that huge sound with its sly allusions and weary romanticism. Flight, a quintet reissue from �65, with Donald Byrd on trumpet, isn�t one of his best Blue Note sides, but is notable for the long modal piece �Tanya.� R.C.W.