ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK • A • RAMA

This month’s

Rock-A-Ramas were written by Richard Riegel, Jon Young, Michael Davis, Jeffrey Morgan, Richard C. Walls and J. Kordosh

PAQUITO D’RIVERA Explosion (Columbia)

Paquito’s the Cuban saxophonist who left the musical confines of his homeland for New York and the freedom to play jazz— and does he ever. This time out, he stretches the concept of Latin jazz past Bird to Benny Goodman and forward into the future with unorthodox instrumentation (harmonica and trombone) and strong performances all around. He uses acoustic orchestration instead of synths and gets away with it easily, as he wields his alto like a sensuous machete, cutting through the curtain of strings. Hot and varied. M.D.

JIMMY LYONS QUINTET Give It Up (Black Saint)

Alto saxophonist Lyons has been playing with the legendary Cecil Taylor’s various roiling Units for a quarter of a century, if not quite as the eye of the storm, then often as a methodical moderate weaving his way through Taylor’s possessed pianistics; so, predictably, Lyons’s own (piano-less) group doesn’t grab you by the throat like Cecil’s. Instead, bringing a bebopper’s tone and phraseology to his radical concepts, he makes freedom sound matter-of-fact. Sharing his frontline is bassoonist Karen Borca, who has developed an impressive facility on that truly weird instrument (which has a tone like a thick string being jerked through a tight hole in a Dixie cup) and trumpeter Enrico Rava, who displays a daring and vigor that will come as a surprise to those only familiar with him via his ECM sides. Lyons favored format here is to have one horn “solo” while the other two make intermittent commentary (all over a flexibly grooving bass and drums); the result is like pulsating chamber music that can’t help but occasionally come to a boil. May not be a throatgrab, but if you listen long enough, you’re hooked. R.C.W.

CHACKO

(Polydor)

Chacko: Cher in disguise? Never mind the blank expression and silly outfit worn by Lori Chacko on the cover of her sublimely awful debut LP. The grooves provide conclusive proof we’re confronting an updated version of the former Mrs. Bono. Singing in a dazed voice that suggests she just bumped her head, Chacko wades through meathead hard rock (“Once Bitten, Twice Shy”), Cars-style posing (“Life On The Planet”), and stagnant ballads (“At A Time Like This”) with unflappable zombie flair. Pretty vacant, indeed! In fact, no other record has evoked the void this well since Black Rose, Cher’s laughable attempt to cash in on new wave back in ’80. Hmmm... J.Y.

GRIOT GALAXY Opus Krampus (Sound Aspects)

This long-standing group of Detroit-based serious space cadets manifests itself this time out as a quartet—Anthony Holland and Faruq Z. Bey handle the saxophones, and bassist Jaribu Shahid and drummer Tani Tabbal (both vets of the Roscoe Mitchell Sound Ensemble) lay down the rhythm. And it’s a grid of sturdy rhythms which anchors the saxes’ stratospheric ambitions—when, on side two, during Shahid’s suite-like “Necrophilia” (which comes complete with guest percussionist Panda O’Bryan and scifi beatnik poem “Tales Of Zinjanthropus Galacticus”), the rhythm drops out, Holland and Bey proceed to soar starward like two meaningful helium heads. To put it more plainly: kinda like the Art Ensemble of Chicago before Manfred Eicher got ahold of

’em, only more soulful, as befit-

ting a Motown group. R.C.W.

JANE SIBERRY The Speckless Sky (Duke Street/WEA Canada) With “Mimi On The Beach,” a seven minute plus track off her last album (No Borders Here), Siberry came across as a prime contender (pretender?) to the title of Canada’s answer to Laurie Anderson. This time around the role model seems to be Suzanne Vega—but don’t get me wrong, she’s got brains and I love her nevertheless. Sure, some of the lyrics are a bit on the precious side but, then again, if I heard Eno singing “I thought I heard someone screaming outside but it was just a bus pulling away,” I’d be the first to heap praise. Besides, her band can rock out with the best of them, and “One More Color” has a melodic hook that you just can’t shake. So if she decides to be Carla Bley or Lene Lovich next time around, I’ll be here—and you should, too. (Remember, your dollar is worth a buck-fifty here, so what’re you waiting for? An invitation?) J.M.

SOUL ASYLUM Made To Be Broken (Twin Tone)

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! Riding a tidal wave of churning guitars and fevered vocals, Minneapolis natives Soul Asylum recycle familiar rock ’n’ roll moves with a hardcore intensity guaranteed to make the scalp tingle. No doubt that’s what initially appealed to producer Bob Mould, whose own Husker Du once trod a similar path. Crackling numbers like “Tied To The Tracks” and “Another World, Another Day” give folk-rock conventions a timely jolt of electricity; “Lone Rider” cheerfully attempts a hellish hybrid of country and metal. Interesting lyrics surface whenever the whirlpool of noise recedes enough to make ’em intelligible, too. For instance, the folky “Never Really Been” asks the provocative question, “Who is the hound at the downtown dog pound/Who speaks English when the watchman’s not in sight?” Awesome. J.Y.

CLANNAD Macalia (RCA)

This Irish band makes wallpaper music, so lilting, it can lull you to sleep, sorta like Eno meets the Chieftains with Sandy Denny watching from above.

Very pastoral and into the mystic, the quintet has made its mark largely through soundtrack work for British TV. On this, their third LP (and second stateside), lead singer Maire Ni Bhraonain, her brothers Pol and Ciaran, and their twin uncles,

Padraig and Noel O’Dugain, make their pop move, enlisting the services of fellow Gaelic booster Bono on “In A Lifetime,” and elsewhere adding the creeping modernization of synths, sinuating guitar licks and plaintive saxes to traditional Irish instruments like the harp, flute and mandola. Which leaves Clannad pitched somewhere in the middle of the Pogues and De Danann in the New Irish Pop Sweepstakes—caught between their respect for Celtic standards (“Caislean Oir” and “Buachaill on Eirne”) and the passion to break through the blarney to crossover success. Unfortunately,

Maire’s wistful, reedy vocals don’t incorporate that tension so the music has all the staying power of a pot of gold at rainbow’s end, all the authenticity of a four-leaf clover.

Maybe they’ll get lucky, but I prefer my reel a little more real. R.R.

LORDS OF THE NEW CHURCH Killer Lords (IRS.)

In a perfect world, these 12 cuts would’ve 'been the Lords’ greatest hits, but as it stands they’re the just plain greatest moments from these Anglo-Buckeye blackheads. This package includes eight songs (some already remixed) from the Lords’ three prior albums, plus four more cuts either new to U.S. vinyl (the notorious Lords cover of “Like A Virgin,” that writhing tune originally popularized by Stiv Bator’s soul sister Madonna), or even as fresh as a newmown virgin (“Lords Prayer”). This compilation of swell protest melodies (“Open Your Eyes”) and remixed punchers (“Russian Roulette”) features duck-lover Lords who sound more punk-assed pop than ever. Reinspirational verse from “Open Your Eyes”: “Ignorance is a power tool.” (Stiv & Brian & the boys still have all their digits.) R.R.

EUROGLIDERS

Absolutely

(Columbia)

Australia’s Eurogliders sure know how to make catchy records. This Island, the sextet’s 1985 U.S. debut, went straight for the pop music jugular like prime Fleetwood Mac, thanks to hearty melodies, crisply executed. The sequel often does likewise, although the ruthless efficiency of songwriter Bernie Lynch seems less endearing second time around. In addition to the expected strains o’ Mac, he includes moody Motelisms, lite soul ala Hall & Oates, and 57 other varieties of easy-to-digest sounds. Everything’s so well-constructed you may be able to overlook the underlying coldness. And if Absolutely sells the way it’s supposed to, complaints will be irrelevant, of course. J.Y.

VIKTIM

(No Parking Records)

In a way, one feels compelled to salute this Floridian combo: drummer Serge DiLorenzo has actually said, “We don’t want to be innovators.” Wow; tough talk, there, Serge. Well, despite their name—and despite their nifty album cover, which depicts a scuzz getting ready to attack a couple o’ honeys— Viktim aren’t heavy metal at all. They’re poppish, no doubt—actually, excessively frothy might be more to the point. Some truly unmemorable lyrics, if you’re into that scene. But I’ve heard that this “five-song record is a dandy,” so—for all I know—it’s Katie-bar-the-door. Find out yourself from P.O. Box 840802, Pembroke Pines, FL 33023. J.K.