ROCK A RAMA

ROCK A RAMA

DEPARTMENTS

This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were written by David Sprague, Jon Young, Bill Holdship, Richard Riegel,

Michael Davis, and Thomas Anderson

DEATH OF SAMANTHA Strungout On Jargon (Homestead)

An American rock band that shuns the comfy drag of Nouvelle Pop and the eyeliner-watered gloom of Colonial wanna-bes? This foursome is merely the most substantial contraction of the trumpeted CLE-vival scene that birthed Pere Ubu and the mighty Pagans. Like that pair, DOS leap outta some aural vacuum with nary a root exposed, but with plenty of bare wires to trip up the unsuspecting. Need a single touchstone? The truly surreal “Coca Cola and Licorice” could successfully play hide ’n’ seek on Trout Mask Replica, but the Cap’n isn’t the object of any idle worship. Singer John Petkovic testifies in an addled shout that combines the better halves of Tom Waits and Ian Curtis, without the caricatured styling of either. Plus, he backs up titular creativity with nongrad school ammo; “Is that Natalie Wood makin’ love on the Planet of the Apes?” indeed! The Midwest is still best—and this is Sonic Proof. D.S.

ROKY ERICKSON Don’t Slander Me.

(Pink Dust)

If Roky Erickson seems a little less psycho than he did at the start of the decade, when he recorded “Bloody Hammer” and “Creature With The Atom Brain,” only the degree has changed. On the bitchin’ Don’t Slander Me, Rok’s still squawkin’ and shoutin’ like a man possessed, just the way he usedta fronting acid-punk faves the Thirteenth Floor Elevators in the late '60s. Flanked by grubby fuzztone guitars and slap-happy drums, Erickson turns every song into a terrifying encounter with the unknown, whether it’s the Buddy Holly strains of “You Drive Me Crazy,” the simple blues rocker “Crazy Crazy Mama,” ar a remake of his delirious classic “Bermuda.” Essence of Roky can also be found in “Burn The Flames,” a creepy-crawly ballad that begins, "Here I sit/A vampire at my piano,” and climaxes with a blood-curdling cackle from our hero. In short, a hell of a cheap thrill, not to be missed. J.Y.

MAP OF THE WORLD Natural Disasters (Stigmata/Metro-America)

Map Of The World, a four piece band from Ann Arbor, is currently being hailed as the new “great white hope” of that town, and this sixsong EP showcases their brand of pop—quirky songs about alienatioh, but pop nonetheless. Siblings Sophia and Khalid Hanifi write and sing all the tunes (Khalid also handles guitar & piano chores), which are real good, especially when the words don’t get in the way. Sophia’s voice takes more than one listen to adjust to, but it’s when brother & sister join for their almost folk-like harmonies that the music has its most impact. And the rhythm team ain’t bad either. Pick hits: “Make Your Decision,” “Driving Through Storms” and the title track. (MetroAmerica, P.O. Box 37044, Detroit, Ml 48237.) B.H.

THE ART OF NOISE In Visible Silence (Chrysalis)

Are you ready for another set of hothouse studio troupers from England? Me neither, but this hightech kerplopus kinda grows on you with time, especially “Legs,” which already reached the ground here via its release as a single. Essentially what these Art Of Noise folks are presenting to us is the K-Tel version/answer to the increasing cult popularity of Philip Glass, Laurie Anderson, et. al., as this album is built of endlessly repeated vocal FfH phrases, toilet-gurgle sounds, stairstep klunks, etc., etc.—effects which despite their trendy gloss, rarely go very deep. And despite their interwoven "found” commentary on South Africa, either. This group should be called “The Arts & Crafts Of Noise.” R.R.

THE GIZZARDS Unicork

(Quadruped cassette)

This is real noise, and real art while it’s at it: loud, loud guitars and basses straight outta the hyperstrum zone, whole waterfall bedroom sets of sound, many grunty vocals too. If the metal brigades are thinking about stretching their perceptions a bit, the Gizzards’d be a great place to start, what with these pure rush crunch sonic boomers. And "Roadside Stand” is the best Doors approximation on record or tape for many & many a year. Get this now. (Quadruped, 2750-A Adeline,

Berkeley, CA 94703). R.R.

MARC JOHNSON Bass Desires (ECM)

PAUL MOTIAN QUINTET Jack of Clubs (Soul Note/Polygram Special Imports)

BILLY HART Oshumare (Gramavision)

Fans of stratospheric guitar strangulation may wanna check out these jazz LP’s because pioneering six-string texturalist Bill Frisell is on ’em. Frisell has a sonic vocabulary as wide as anybody’s, ranging from swells that sneak up through the floorboards to (my fave) Robert Fripp being divebombed by chickenhawks. On Bass Desires, he gets to play around with guitarist John Scofield, who seems to be recording with almost everyone these days. With multi-directional drummer Paul Motian, he plays hide and go seek with a pair of snaky saxes. In drummer Billy Hart’s ensemble, he enjoys both options, interacting with guitarist Kevin Eubanks and saxmen Branford Marsalis and Steve Coleman, as well as contributing a tune of his own, “Waiting Inside.” Not that the guitars are the only things worth hearing here, understand... M.D.

THE FORTUNE TELLERS Fortunes Told For Free (New Rose)

Here’s something you don’t hear every day —Greek rhythm & blues. Well, truth be told,

only Basile and Miho Kolliopoulas hail from the Parnassian climes; Mike Newberry and Victor Goetz were both born in America (hey guys, the pride is back!). They’re a great band, too. Basile sings like Anthony Quinn with a Buick idling in his windpipe, and Miho could lick the entire “roots rock” generation with four strings tied behind his back. The ‘Tellers are also cool enough to get their debut album produced by Austin, Texas eyesore Dino Lee, and to cover Robert Johnson’s “32-20” on it. All that said though, their record strikes me as being a trifle too polite. The guitar sound is thin, and all the pianos were a big mistake. It’s really a shame, because some of these songs (“I Wanna Know” and "Broke In The USA” in particular) are killer. As it is, only the closer, the Chuck Berry-ish “Can’t Control Myself” lives up to this band’s awesome promise. T.A.