ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK • A • RAMA

This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were written by Richard Riegel, Dave Segal, Richard C. Walls, Thomas Anderson, Jeffrey Morgan, Bill Holdship, and Jon Young.

ANGEL CORPUS-CHRISTI I Love NY

(Criminal Damage import)

Truth-in-packaging award: this album’s eight cuts are all covers of the songs of some of our favorite Noo Yawkers: Lou Reed, Richard Hell, Suicide, the Ramones, Patti Smith, the Velvets, and even a medley of Robert DeNiro’s Taxi Driver soliloquy with “New York, New York.” The cover agent is Ms. Angel CorpusChristi, author of both incredibly sweet & dry vocals, and the neo-Nico wheeze keyboards. Each of which adds whole new levels of archness and irony to songs that were already absolutely modern their first (abrasive) time around. Cult satraps like Suicide’s own Alan Vega and MX-80 Sound guitarist Bruce Anderson share in this sonic penetration of the Manhattan Isle. But Angel’s a smash Lulu Christi all on her own. R.R.

DEFENESTRATION Defenestration (Slow Iguana)

So what happens when you’re growing up in Oklahoma, and discover in your teen years more of an affinity with the New York Dolls than with Jerry Reed? You buy guitars and drums, write some catchy songs, and let it all come screaming out. If you’re lucky, you capture it on vinyl like Defenestration has on their rockin’ debut LP. Seven songs here and not a bum in the lot. They’re tough as a young Aerosmith on the hard-edged “Cut Your Soul In Half” and “Happy Cadillacs,” and pull off the best mid’60s pop this side of mid-’60s pop on “Lovers Grow In The Park” (and dig the Byrds-like guitar on “Heart Throb”). If these guys make it out of the Sooner State, they’ll be prime major label bait, so keep an eye on ’em. (Slow Iguana Records, 773 Asp, Norman, Oklahoma, 73069). T.A.

SONNY ROLLINS The Solo Album (Milestone)

If, like myself, you’ve liked only a small portion of tenor saxophonist Rollins’s recorded output during the past 10 years, you may find the best thing about this Museum of Modern Art concert of solo musings to be the change of context—alone, Rollins doesn’t have to effect that egregiously fake macho/r’n’b tone he uses to put himself on equal sonic footing with his electric guitars and basses. In fact, he’s more relaxed in general (or at least seems to be), eschewing, until the climax, any rhythma-ning and opting instead for an out-of-tempo discursive pace—and on record, where the existential bravado which gives a performance like this its special edge is somewhat blunted, an hour of (albeit witty) free associations (including quick quotes from a few dozen songs) may seem like an extremely casual approach to what was supposed to be a monumental event. Which is kinda cool, when you think about it. R.C.W.

TELEVISION’S GREATEST HITS (Teevee Toons)

Damn! Four whole sides, and I couldn’t find “Marquee Moon” or “Little Johnny Jewel” anywhere! Seriously, this two-record anthology features 65 of the TV themes most of us grew up with in the ’50s and ’60s, divided into categories like kiddie shows & cartoons, sit-coms, science-fiction, superheroes, Westerns, cops and secret agents. The only problem is that at least half of the tracks are remakes, and some of ’em are pretty shabby ones at that—smaller combos replacing full orchestras, while not including Johnny Rivers’s original “Secret Agent Man” is a sacrilege. Still, most of this is a real treat, and it makes you realize that a lot of this music is ingrained in our collective pasts as much as, say, a fave Beatles record. Plus I’d forgotten what a great song “Fireball XL-5” was—or how close stuff like the Bonanza theme was to rock. All together now: “But Patty likes to rock ’n’ roll, a hot dog makes her lose control...” B.H.

JAMES NEWTON The African Flower (Blue Note)

The upside of neo-classicism: flutist Newton has arranged seven vintage Ellington and/or Strayhorn compositions for a 10-piece group and has managed to achieve a satisfying balance between personal expression and respectful re-creation—though what impresses most are not the solos (good as they are, especially alto saxist Arthur Blythe whipping up a lather on “Cottontail”), but rather the unabashedly beautiful colors that Newton wraps the graceful E and/or S melodies in. All history lessons should be so pleasant.R.C.W.

CRAWLING WALLS Inner Limits (Voxx) .

This band rings a lot truer to the fabled psychedelic movement than generic Thompson Twins like Dream Academy will ever do. No mushhead lyrics here, but nonstop-kerplop TexMex organ squeals, courtesy of Mr. Bob Fountain. Many people consider him a virtual Ghost In The Farfisa, though he reportedly plays a Vox organ in real life. Album includes basses, drums, guitars, vocals, all that stuff too, but it’s those smooth-squeal organ pulsations that go down a bunch (fingers down yer vinyl crotch). You, too, will love this groovy plasti-coated eon where it’s 1967 forever & ever and you’ll never have to deal with the Boss, one way (or another). R.R.

YEAH YEAH NOH

Cutting The Heavenly Lawn Of Greatness (In Tape import)

Once a bare-bones, trenchant indie beat combo with wonderfully droll vocals, Yeah Yeah Noh have transformed themselves into an eclectic, mildly psychedelic band with wonderfully droll vocals. Trebly and backward guitars and spacy vocals are used to fragilely beautiful effect. The songs deal with the minutiae of English life, but even Yanks should appreciate the wise, witty, ironic and selfconscious lyrics. This LP is a great way to learn about provincial British life and sample an odd melange of music. Includes a perfect, low-key version of the glorious “She Said She Said.” D.S.

THE RATTLERS Rattled (PVC)

There must be something to the gene theory, ’cause Mickey Leigh’s Rattlers inhabit the same kooky world as his brother Joey’s Ramones. Same wry vocals, same goofy Alfred E. Neuman perspective (“I’m In Love With My Walls”!?!), though these guys rarely feel the need to break the speed of sound. Anyway, this is boss wax from start to finish, with 10 rockin’ cuts of snazzy power pop. Among the pearls: “On the Beach,” which finds our hero searching for his baby, kidnapped by a radioactive sea monster, “Bottom Of The Barrel,” a spunky Velvet Underground salute, and the title cut, wherein Leigh confronts the eternal dilemma of whether to be a good boy or a bad boy. It’s records like Rattled that make the idiocy of the “real” world a little easier to bear. Gabba, gabba, hey! J.Y.

JAMES BROWN Living In America (12" Dance Mix)

(Scotti Brothers)

Froggy Mix (Polydor)

You don’t realize how great this is until you listen to the six-and-a-half minute version. Not an ounce of fat, it’s pure lean ’n’ mean James all the way. Not only is this the greatest buttmoving dance track in the last 10 (do I hear 15?) years, but the apex of The Minister Of The New Super Heavy Funk’s career to date. The secret? By combining James’s mastery of the extended groove with Dan Hartman’s songwriting and production skills, the two have come up with a format that’s structured enough to let James wrap his pipes around the first bridge he’s sung in years—but loose enough to let him free-associate as he is wont to do. If there is a God, this will do for James what “Freeway Of Love” did for Aretha. Meanwhile, Froggy Mix (by Froggy and Simon Harris) is no less than 12 (count ’em) of James’s ’70s masterworks blended into one massive, ultimate JB groove. Raps are laid on top of raps, and grunts and screams are sliced, diced, and looped into an aural onslaught of funk that’s positively dada in its execution (and the segue from “Sex Machine” to “Get Up Offa That Thing” has just got to be heard to be believed). Ungh! J.M.

KEVIN DUNN Tanzfeld (Press)

After all of pop music’s safe pseudoeccentrics, it’s nice to find a genuine oddball like Kevin Dunn. On the consistently intriguing Tanzfeld, this Atlanta-based singer and guitarist bends and twists familiar styles with fiendish glee, creating sounds that’ll make your brain itch. The disorienting “Clear Title” blends his ghostly vocal and otherworldly guitars to conjure up a slow-motion nightmare, while topsy-turvy covers of Presley’s “Burning Love” and “Louie, Louie” suggest mass culture gone insane. With its jaunty tempo and startling lyrics (“I wasn’t thinking/About all the consequences/ When I put that armband on”), “Giovinezza” manages to be amusing and deeply disturbing at once, which gives some idea of why Dunn can’t be reduced to a simple marketing formula. More power to him. J.Y.

THE CANNONBALL ADDERLEY COLLECTION Vol. 1: Them Dirty Blues Vol 2: Cannonball’s Bossa Nova (Landmark)

These are the first two installments in a planned series which will reissue several of alto saxist .Cannonball’s Riverside albums— the ones that have managed to avoid being reissued during this past reissue-mad decadeand-a-half. The bossa nova album is a generally OK, lesser effort, noteworthy because, though it was commercially canny in 1963, it’s also authentic—them’s genuine Brazilian musicians in there with Cannon, playing genuinely Brazilian songs. Blues, on the other hand, is an undeniable classic. Recorded in ’59, it was the first studio recording of Adderley’s quintet and features Bobby Timmons’s “Dat Dere” and Nat Adderley’s “Work Song,” two peak examples of late-’50s populist jazz/funk as well as “Jeannine” and “Soon,” two hiply bittersweet finger-poppers. The solos are mostly short, exuberant, and, in Cannonball’s case, virtuosic. Still cuts it, 26 years later. R.C.W.