RECORDS

RECORDS

WCC PANTS, SAMMY!

VAN HALEN

5150

(Warner Bros.)

I simply can’t fathom what all the fuss is about—SO WHAT if Van Halen didn’t ask ME to replace David Lee Roth as lead vocalist, since I am the only logical choice. I’m better looking than both Roth and Hagar, plus I’ve got more personality than you can swing a dead cat at.

Besides, the name of the group is VAN HALEN, not LEE ROTH. What, did everyone expect Eddie, Alex & Michael to roll over and die because Roth, like many people “in” San Francisco, is trying to bite off more than he can chew? Let him go “make” his movies and generally act the BIG WEENIE he truly is, and let Van Hagar ROCK!

But why Sammy Hagar? Why not David Johansen? How about Dave DiMartino’s fave, Jobriath? Was Michael Des Barres on vacation in East L.A. or something? Hagar’s career has been on a steady decline since about 1957, but yes, he does have the pipes. What Hagar lacks is personality, the kind of personality which complemented/counterpointed the fine playing of Eddie, Alex & Michael.

But this doesn’t stop 5150 from being a cut above the rest of the HM currently beating the boards around the country. While I miss that patented smirk Roth wiped across each of their earlier LPs, Hagar has managed to inject a little rock ’n’ roll desperation into the VH bloodline. Near the end of his career as VH frontman, Roth was going through the motions, more than willing to play the ne’erdo-well spouting the same set of quotes to each & every magazine that was forced to listen to him. But Hagar, ever the journeyman, knows he doesn’t have many shots left, so he got straight down to business on 5150, almost returning VH to the lean ’n’ mean rock ’n’ roll wrecking crew they once were.

From the spoken hello, baby beginning “Good Enough” to the final guitar squank on “Inside,” VH are out to frenetically prove they are more than DLR’s back-up ensemble. So they end up tripping over themselves in the attempt. “Get Up” is the perfect example of this—everyone is rifting out so much, I began wondering if they forgot they were in VH. What made the Roth-era stuff like “And The Cradle Will Rock”work was partly due to what they didn’t play, and HM aficionado Miles Davis will tell you this is indeed the secret of success.

5150 sounds as confused as most HM acts’ second albums—having shot the BIG WAD on the first LR they end up “recording” one or more songs which sound "like” Journey & Foreigner—lotsa synth, NICE melodies, NICE harmonies, lotsa NICE ZZZzzzs. Which is exactly what you get with cuts “Love Walks In” & “Dreams.” Songs so stunningly bland I wonder if they were written while they were watching Wheel Of Fortune. And the title track is a pure throwaway which doesn’t belong on any LP bearing the righteous VH name.

The saving graces end each side of 5150. Side one’s "Summer Nights” is the VH we all love, cock rock at its finest, and side two’s “Inside” has the boys chatting away through the mix, an old, much-used used VH ploy. But it ROCKS, which is certainly what I WANT when I buy a VH LP.

“Best Of Both Worlds” is neither.

I couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed with 5150. I’m not on it. But I think once the boys get off tour & hunker down in the studio & RELAX, maybe they’ll make the album we’ve been patiently awaiting. Here’s hoping.

Mark J. Norton

DOKKEN Under Lock And Key

(Elektra)

Dokken, the label-makers say, is “melodic metal.” And melodic metal is just an apolgetic term for boring.

Now, Dokken isn’t necessarily dull, and it’s certainly not bad enough to be kept under lock and key (awright, awright, it was and obvious joke but someone had to do it). But after three albums, this quartet has yet to distinguish itself from a pack of same-sounding formula rock bands spanning from Ratt all the way back to Bad Company. It’s smooth, it’s slick and it’s well-written, but it has little to offer in the way of character.

Dokken’s creative process, publicists say, is a push-me pull-you relationship between Don Dokken, who favors slick pop, and guitarist George Lynch, who favors the heavier, gritty stuff. I’m all for creative tension, but in Dokken it means too much meeting in the middle, so that there’s no extremes being explored. One song flows into the next, and if you’re not playing close attention, you might not even notice the change.

A big part of the problem is the limited subject matter of these songs. Once you get beyond Lynch’s catchy-at-best riffs, these are songs about love—being in love, out of love, cheating on love, etc. In other words, the whole gamut of emotions every other teen-oriented band sings about.

When Dokken clicks on “Under Lock And Key,” it’s with a song that goes beyond those cliched angles. “In My Dreams” takes a look at how relationships are remembered after they’re over, a tender, illuminating treatise on a seldom-discussed topic. And it doesn’t hurt that it’s dressed up with fine harmonies and layered guitar lines that include some of Lynch’s best playing on the album.

After that, however, it’s all basic lyrics and basic music. Dokken’s singing sounds like Paul Rodgers on some songs (“The Hunter,” “Jaded Heart”) and the Cars’ Ric Osasek on others (“It’s Not Love”). The effects-laden harmonies are well-executed but hardly original, and even when the quartet decides to slow up on “Slippin* Away,” it doesn’t sound much different than Bryan Adams or a Foreigner power ballad.

But there's hope for Dokken. As writers, the group obviously know how to put songs together. And Lynch has a decent enough grasp of what power-rock tricks are out there. Perhaps a toughening up, a bit more metal and a bit less melody, will give this group the kind of identity it’s lacking.

Gary Graff

THE FIRM Mean Business (Atlantic) TED NUGENT Little Miss Dangerous (Atlantic)

JESSE: What are we reviewing today? MARTIN: We’re in a bind, guys, we need some record reviews. The editors of METAL just called us up—and we don’t have any records with us right now. So we can’t really play them and review them.

HAL: What if the editors knew we didn’t have any albums? Did you tell them? MARTIN: Why should I tell ’em? I’m glad that those really great editors give us a chance to share our wisdom with them! JESSE: Well, you know that we are the triumvirate of metal wisdom.

HAL: I think it’s an example of just how badly they need us. I think they wouldn’t have a magazine without us.

MARTIN: I think they need us a lot more than we need them. Those jerks! Well, why don’t we do this? We might as well share this with the readers as well. Let’s review some records that we’ve listened to recently, but don’t have in front of us. So if we start talking vaguely in terms of song titles, the readers, being the cool people they are, will understand.

HAL: I think they’ll understand because we are the triumvirate of metal wisdom, and probably will be so, forevermore. MARTIN: You can say that again.

HAL: OK, we are the triumvirate of metal wisdom and will probably be so, forevermore.

MARTIN: Do you agree with that, Jesse? JESSE: Hot damn!

MARTIN: All right, uh, for starters let’s review the new album by the Firm. It’s called Mean Business and it’s on the Atlantic label.

JESSE: You know, that’s an interesting title. Do you think the Firm means that the Firm mean business or they’re saying they’re in a mean business?

MARTIN: It might be a pun, but, for it to be grammatically correct, it would have to be the Firm means business.

HAL: And Jimmy Page would never allow that to go unnoticed! Here’s a question: Do you think there was a “Yip” at the beginning of that title and it was somehow deleted through an inexplicable error at that record pressing plant, or something like that?

MARTIN: You mean, “Yip, mean business”? I don’t know. I talked to Krypto the other day, though, and all he could say was “Yip!”’

JESSE: I think you may have hit the nail on the head, there.

MARTIN: But there’s something else to consider, too.

HAL: But I want to talk about Krypto some more!

MARTIN: Well, Krypto will be back; he’s got a bone to pick with you. Uh, let’s say that they’re actually talking about ways and means committees. The Firm means business, like maybe these guys were into a means to an end, right? So, in other words, they see this as a means to an end.

JESSE: But the important question we’re talking about here is legendary guitarists and grammar—and I’d like to know if, like Pete Townshend, Jimmy Page knows the difference between imply and infer. MARTIN: Speaking of Jimmy Page and grammar, I wonder if his is still alive. HA-HA.

HAL: I don’t know. I don’t think Pete Townshend played with him on the record; I listened to it, you know. I don’t know if I’m alone in the triumvirate—well, strike that, I know the whole triumvirate has listened to this record many times. Many, many, many times.

MARTIN: Heck, I enginered it, yeah! That’s the ticket, yeah! Yeah!

HAL: Yep, and I’ll be paying you for that.

I produced it, ya know?

MARTIN: Of course, I’ll always remember.

JESSE: Well, actually, at night I become Jimmy Page—you see, it’s through dealing with my black magic and conjuring with the devil, he lets me during the day be a mild-mannered part of the triumvirate of metal wisdom—at night I am actually Jimmy Page.

MARTIN: But Jesse—is it true, in order to conjure up these sort of things, you have to wear women's clothes?

JESSE: Well, Satan kinda likes it. MARTIN: OK, we better review the Firm album. It stinks, right?

HAL: It’s terrible; there’s no reason to buy it.

MARTIN: OK, hold on, there’s the phone. (answers phone) OK, we’re back on the air.

HAL: Yeah, the record’s really bad and that’s that.

MARTIN: Right. OK. So, now let’s do a couple more. Uh, the new Ted Nugent album—did you guys hear that?

HAL: Of course! What do you mean? Heard it?

JESSE: It’s Nugent!

HAL: Heard it? That’s me playing bass on that record. Yeah!

MARTIN: I stand corrected.

JESSE: He’s from the great state of Michigan.

MARTIN: Yeah?

JESSE: Rock ’n’ roll!

HAL: In fact, I dare say, you know, uh, Martin, since you are not—you’re the one member of the triumvirate that isn’t from the great state of Michigan, that probably Jesse, and certainly myself, have seen many Ted Nugent shows before you probably even knew about him.

MARTIN: I’m afraid you’re quite wrong. JESSE: You know, the Amboy Dukes, too...

HAL: Yeah, I’m just saying that Martin doesn’t really have that gut feeling for Nugent.

MARTIN: I beg to differ.

HAL: The roots Nugent that you and I know so well—in fact, I think Martin should like be sent to the corner, the triumvirate corner for this Nugent review. JESSE: He’s got one thing on us... HAL: Banished...

JESSE: He’s got one thing on us that neither of us have, although we are familiar with Nugent and know Nugent. We’ve never been walking on a beach and had someone come up to us and say, say, “Are you Ted Nugent?’’

MARTIN: Aye, lads!

HAL: I apologize to the readers at this point of the review, and, in fact, to you, Martin, ’cause that slipped my metal mind.

JESSE: You forgot that story, didn’t you? MARTIN: I felt quite proud when someone asked me that. OK, let’s see...best thing about the album is the cover of “Little Red Book,’’ but it’s a crummy version. JESSE: It’s kind of hard to mess that song up, isn’t it?

MARTIN: Yeah, but he does it.

HAL: Really? How so? What’s, like, the biggest stumble he makes?

MARTIN: Well, I only played it for about 10 seconds, but it was all I could stand—it was pathetic. It was a blatant imitation of the famed rock group Love, of the ’60s, and their hit. Frankly, the guy has no future. He should get his hair cut, and all this talk about Miami Vice...I hate the guy, but I should add this: One of the-editors snuck me a copy of the recent Ted Nugent interview that’s going in this very same issue of METAL—if all goes well— and it’s a fine, fine interview. So, Ted, you’re a real funny guy—I suggest hanging up the guitar and start telling jokes for a living.

JESSE: I also recently saw some pictures of Ted with his girlfriend— he’s got a hubba, hubba girlfriend.

HAL: Yeah, I saw those same pictures— and Ted, if you wanna buy them, you know...we’ll sell ’em back to you, I guess. MARTIN: No, we’ve made a mistake: if he’s got a good-looking girlfriend, then the record is good!

JESSE: OK!

HAL: I think that’s fair...I think it’s more than fair, really.

MARTIN: That’s probably a good way to review records, actually.

HAL: OK, is there any other outstanding metal discs that’ve come out?

JESSE: Urn...I think something that the metal triumvirate should address is “Why is there no new Belfegore album?” It’s been over a year.

HAL: Well, I don’t know. I think that’s a real touchy issue, because, I think, you know, a lot of readers are gonna become panic-stricken when they read these words. The words “No new Belfegore album,” would probably cause mass panic, or something like that.

MARTIN: I have to agree, and I don’t even hope it rains tomorrow, with no Belfegore album.

HAL: I don’t know, it’s like worse than nuclear war, right now.

MARTIN: No, it’s worse than that!

HAL: Well, you know, I was just trying to think of the worst thing ever, you know, like the immediate destruction of the universe or no Belfegore album. MARTIN: What if there was no Krypto, and it was just made up?

HAL: Well, wait a minute, you have kind of a personal relationship with Krypto, as you more or less came out and said earlier in this review, and I think you would be behoven to look up the super dog, and ask him what’s goin’ on with Belfegore.

MARTIN: What do you mean, “look up” the dog?

HAL: Well, find him. He’s probably on a space romp.

MARTIN; Usually.

HAL: Don’t you have an ultra-sonic whistle you could summon him with? Like I have in my pocket here?

MARTIN: I wish I had it, but I had to trade it for a copy of Champion Jack Dupree’s album.

HAL: I don’t know about bringing up the whole ugly Belfegore story. I don’t know if the world is ready for it. Frankly, it’s like the fact that Hitler’s still alive and we know it. Could we just come out and tell people that?

JESSE: Or Jim Morrison. I think we should put out a feeler to all our readers, because I know anybody out there who cares about METAL will be reading the triumvirate of metal. And I'd like to know if anybody knows what the status of Belfegore’s album is, if they would drop a line to us here in care of METAL magazine.

MARTIN: I don’t want to draw any unusual parallels, but have you guys noticed the disturbing incidences all across the world of terrorist bombings in airports, that sort of thing? It’s as if the entire world—all cultures—is extremely upset and crying out for this missing Belfegore album. Who knows what could happen next?

JESSE: It’s scary. But did we ever sum up about Ted Nugent’s album? MARTIN: Yeah, it stinks.

JESSE: No, but his girlfriend is hot. MARTIN: Oh, yeah, it’s good. It’s real good, OK.

HAL: It is good, yeah, now.

JESSE: Life is good.

HAL: Well, yeah, life is looking better, I guess. Certainly his girlfriend is... MARTIN: We better end this on an upbeat note...

HAL: We’ll be back next month?! MARTIN: That’s pretty good. Ummm, there is hope for a new Ronn Trice solo album. What else?

JESSE: I’ll end it on an upbeat note...excuse me, I’m going to try on a new dress; I’ve got an appointment with Satan. ALL: Yeah!!!

Jesse Grace, Martin Dio & Hal Jordan

KEEL

The Final Frontier

(Gold Mountain/MCA)

I’ll cut it right to the quick, Jackson, and tell ya Keel's second LP, The Final Frontier, isn’t what it should be. I remember when Keel visited the CREEM orifice back in ’85 and there were beaucoups (pronounced BUCK UPS, French for “many,” now go impress your friends with your new-found knowledge) copies of their first LP, The Right To Rock, just laying around, waiting to be given a home. I not only took one home, but actually played it, much to the chagrin of my hideous neighbors. The Right To Rock gave me the right to rock BIG, even bigger than my “somewhat microscopic” weenie! It had a raw, savage edge which sheared the Schick off my razor, and filled those lonely nights when the bimbos from the Sports Illustrated Swimwear Issue couldn’t make it over. I may occasionally suffer, but when I suffer, I WANNA ROCK!

What happened? Why is The Final Frontier so...lame? I say, SO WHAT if producer Gene Simmons made the mistake of his life when he forced his own guitarist to change his name from the very cool “Norton” to something stoopid like “St. James”! For a while I was able to keep millions of Simmons-detractors at bay by mentioning that he not only produced the first Keel LP, but was going to do the sesecond as well. This ruse worked until The Final Frontier was met by HM pilgrims in search of the Promised Land.

The title cut was probably meant to be some sort of inspiration to the faithful, but what you get in the intro is some dork screwing around with the white noise function on a synth (do you like the sound of wind whipping around between your ears?). From there, you’d expect some heavy-duty guitar crankings, though I suppose they are to new wave gays, but the reality is just HM THUDwhumpTHUDwhumpTHUDwhump. Singer Ron Keel claims, “We were meant to be out on the Final Frontier,” and all I can think is Oh yeah? What’s the use of the Final Frontier if I can’t ROCK?! I’m willing to bet, however, that this song is great live, BECAUSE THIS WHOLE ALBUM SOUNDS LIKE IT WAS MIXED IN A BLENDER!

Axe aces Marc Ferrari & Bryan Jay, are buried too far down in the mix. And F & J are good, and should be heard. LOUD. IS GENE SIMMONS TRYING TO DO TO KEEL WHAT DAVID BOWIE TRIED TO “DO” TO IGGY & THE STOOGES CIRCA RAW POWER? Huh, Gene? Can’t take the competition, can you, you pussy! Keel’s “Rock And Roll Animal” should’ve given me a cerebral hemhorrage from the blazing guitars, but they’re EQd so AOR I damn near fell asleep. THIS ALBUM WOULD’VE BEEN GREAT EXCEPT THEY LET A GERBIL WEENIE LIKE GENE SIMMONS PRODUCE IT.

Really, dude. Now, I don’t pretend to know whose idea it was to do Springsteen/Smith’s “Because The Night,” but the whole damn song is stilted. Nary a shard of grace. Maybe Keel does this song in concert, where they probably do an excellent job of it, but it doesn’t translate onto vinyl. And...if “Because The Night” was Simmons’s idea, I’m even more right about him!

“Here Today Gone Tomorrow” is a throwaway, but side one ends with “Arm And A Leg” WHICH IS SO GOOD I GOT UP ON MY KITCHEN TABLE AND PLAYED AIR GUITAR TO IT, TWICE IN A ROW! Keel stomp spleen with this mother, as they always should.

Side two begins with “Raised On Rock,” which features Joan Jett on rhythm guitar, but of course it doesn’t make any difference, due to the EQing & mix. Good tune, and once again, I bet it sounds awesome in concert. “Just Another Girl” sounds like one of those groups “like” Journey, so skip it as well as the obligatory ballad, “Tears Of Fire.”

Before you go calling “Nightfall” a piece of quasiclassical acoustic guitar ichneumon doo-doo, remember that not only while guitarists Ferrari & Jay both commit appellation abberations—Ferrari, by spelling his first name with a “c” and Jay by not using the cool initial “J.,” they both probably have moms & dads who need a cut they can play for their friends at the country club. So screw you.

Happily, this LP ends with a bonecrushing HM paean to playing ruff ’n’ tuff called “No Pain No Gain.” Once again,

I played air guitar to this baby, and really enjoyed the lead break, which Keel lifted straight from Deep Purple’s “Highway Star.” All records would be lucky to end in this manner.

BUY THIS RECORD RIGHT AWAY, or you’re a total gay. Not 50 percent, not 75 percent, not 95 percent—COMPLETELY. And you guys in Keel, keep up the great work, but get someone to produce you who knows what they’re doing.

Mark J. Norton

METALLICA

Master Of Puppets

(Elektra)

More awesome than incredible, more amazing than unbelievable! Feel the atmospheric vibrations of mayhem rip through your feeble frame and terminate in a ten-megaton detonation in your grey matter—that final pulping that brings to you the realization that Metallica has once again annihilated all competition with ferocity and sneers to spare! What? You mean that before you viewed their vulturine perch above the carnage heaps of vanquished, bloody competition you harbored the ridiculous notion that Metallica might not be able to pull it off three times in a row? Impudent peon! The band whose first album, Kill 'Em All, defined what speed metal is, whose second album, Ride The Lightning, kicked the competitions in their puffy posteriors... You thought they couldn’t do it again? Metallica rules uber alles!

But enough of this ranting and raving, it’s time for the essential breakdown of this infernal doomblast. Side one opens with another tasty “classical” arrangement which slides into the song “Battery,” just another on their list of headbanging masterpieces! Next up is the title track, which is probably the tastiest arrangement here and an excellent display of the social conscience that sets their metal apart from the drugs and sex and rock ’n’ roll deviltry which pushes the competition into a face-first splat on the tarmac! “Chop your breakfast on a mirror” indeed! It’s damn gratifying to see someone take a stance on this brand of unthinking chemical abuse. Shambling grotesquely forward is the next number, “The Thing That Should Not Be.” An H.P. Lovecraft-inspired follow-up to the instrumental “Call of C’thulu” off of Ride The Lightning, and one of my personal favorites on this album. Holy havoc, is this track heavy! Then comes “Welcome Home (Sanitarium),” another follow-up, this time to “Fade To Black” off the last album. Side two contains speedier material, and the lyrics wrangle with subjects of control and the waste of war.

Metallica seem to be copping a more positive attitude on this disc, and never seem to come off as being preachy or self-righteous. Fine by me! Lars Ulrich has expanded somewhat on his style, and these plateaus of percussive power and dexterity make an excellent backup to the chopping, more technically advanced style that Hetfield, Hammet and Burton are currently employing. Absolutely, irrevocably awesome!

The strange thing about this album is the band’s current tour to support it. Are you ready? They are backing up Uzi Oozeblitz (Ozzy Osbourne) on his current tour! How long can it last? How long can Ozzy’s blatant theatrical schlockmongering withstand the stress of having to drag his ancient blubbery body out on stage to greet an audience that Metallica has just whipped into a foaming frenzy? Not just that, but then being expected to top them! My guess is that the ancient schizophrenic poofter will be throwing in the towel very shortly. And then he can just call their name, ’cause they’ll hear Ozzy scream “Master!”

Peter Davis & Brian Sullivan