THE CHRISTGAU CONSUMER GUIDE

THE CHRISTGAU CONSUMER GUIDE

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

COLONEL ABRAMS (MCA)

With Eurodisco orgymaster Cerrone and Ameridisco worker-bee Sam Dees augmenting Anglodisco scenemaker Richard Burgess in the co-producer’s slot, you-know-what revival is obviously on tap. Ah well, it could be lots worse, and it probably will be—I hope not with this artist, a likable fella whose Teddy Pendergrass impressions has its social function. Though speaking of soul, I wonder why the only ladyfriend he makes me care about is eight years old tops. B

THE BELLAMY BROTHERS “Howard And David”

(Curb)

The untoward success of Dwight Yoakam sent me scurrying to my shelves to compare and contrast. And from next big purist Pake McEntire to last big expurists the Judds, from Hollywood celeb Kenny Rogers to Nashville everyman Mel McDaniel, from who-he? T. Graham Brown to whoo-ee Waylon Jennings, these harmonizing eclectics were as good as I could find. Which ain’t great and never has been, but will do. No matter its pretensions, all country music has the same primary reward: tuneful variations on the verities of the ordinary. The second side, which proceeds from a Marshall Crenshaw cover to the generic paradox of “I Would Lie For Your Love” to the rueful “Old Hippie” to filler, is exemplary. B +

BLACK FLAG

“Who’s Got The 10Va?” (SST)

My War, Slip It In, the Live ’84 tape, the instrumental sides, Henry’s poetry readings—it was all too much, the excess productions of bohemian businessmen ready to shove any old shit up the wazoos of their pre-sold believers. So I hardly heard the 1985 studio LPs Loose Nut and In My Head, which proved their sharpest since Damaged, with Loose Nut especially showing off Greg Ginn’s fangs as lyricist and riffmaster. The demented acceleration and guitar squiggles of this live date improve most of the hottest songs from the ’85 albums. And while introducing the band members by cock size may protest their belated obsession with sex too much, I can’t complain when the answer to the title question is Kira, who plays bass so stalwartly she deserves all the credit she can get. A -JACKSON BROWN “Lives In The Balance”

(Asylum)

These antiwar songs give him plenty in common with Holly Near—he even puts nuevo cancion musicians on the title track. While Browne goes in for higher octane folk-rock, I’ll pass on any dub versions if you don’t mind. The difference is that Browne shouldn’t be doing this—however goody-goody his fans or politican his recent rep, he’s a pop star who’s stretching his audience and endangering his market share merely by making such a statement in 1986. And he’s thought hard getting here— not only does his way with words render these lyrics somewhat deeper than Holly Near’s, but his moralistic putdowns have that edge of righteous anger nobody’s yet found the formula for. B +

BELINDA CARLISLE "Belinda”

(IRS.)

At least Jane Wiedlin’s solo was a well-meaning failure. This one’s pure El Lay, vacuous would-be CHR with chief songwriter Charlotte Caffey spelled by numerous ringers. The best you can say about the best of these songs—namely, “Band of Gold”—is that you’ve heard it before; the best you can say about the rest is that once in a while you think you have. C

GEORGE CLINTON “RGB Skeletons In The Closet” (Capitol)

Conceptually, featured vocalist _ _ Vanessa Williams and Pedro Bell’s ■/I Neegrow cover are the only coups. mjfM Lyrically you’ll have to settle for pidgin pygmy here, title credo there, some fast-food jokes, and the cautionary “Cool Joe.” Groovewise it’s ^ Clonesville. In short, George’s flattest in a decade. And you’d still settle for it in Boise. B +

GEORGE CLINTON/ PARLIAMENT-FUNKADELIC “The Mothership Connection (Live from Houston)”

(Capitol)

Listening to their long-gone live double is like sitting midway back in the Garden— the fun is atmospheric, with familiar epiphanies rising up out of the funk and no roof blown off any mothersucker. This onedisc video soundtrack comes atcha from around Row H of a hot ’80s show— intense, bottom and vocals booming loud and clear. First side’s a healthy helping of 70s raunch, second leads from “Atomic Dog” to two unsynthesized remakes that’ll make friends for Some Of My Best Jokes. Like most live albums, it’s for fans—buy any of the first three Capitol albums first. And if you’re not some kind of fan by now, I’ve failed in my life’s mission. A -

THE FABULOUS THUNDERBIRDS “Tuff Enuff”

(CBS Associates)

The groove’s tough enough, but like their fellow retroists the Bangles they don’t write ’em as good as they pick ’em. This is the wages of retro—trying to replicate the musical spirit of a time that’s passed means going against history and sacrificing the authenticity retroists live for. Can’t blame Dave Edmunds for that. Or for the video, either. B -

PHILIP GLASS “Songs From Liquid Days”

(FM)

From Satyagraha to Mishima, much of Glass’s recent work has invoked the mood if not the methods of 19th century classical music, a realm of discourse where I’m reluctant to pass judgment, though I will mention that this hardly makes him unique among soundtrack composers. When it comes to vocal production, though, I have my proud prejudices. Without passing judgment on Satyagraha’s Douglas Perry, who applies his tenor to one song here, I’ll insist without fear of ignorance that he’s a less than apt model for the Roches and Bernard Fowler (Linda Ronstadt can do what she wants). And thus even Suzanne Vega’s lyrics read better than they sound. Which may just mean Glass is too spiritually enlightened to get meaningful texts to music. C +

JANET JACKSON “Control”

(A&M)

At first I scoffed at Janet’s claims of autonomy—figured Lewis & Jam gave her co-everything credit for a price she could afford. But now I realize she must have had some input—otherwise, what would be not to like? Great beats here, their deepest ever. I suggest you ignore the rest, and predict you’ll manage it only when dancing your ass off. B -

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PATTI LABELLE "Winner In You”

(MCA)

No previous crossover diva has purveyed such an out-and-out fabrication. Tina’s weathered sexpot, Whitney’s soulful yuppie—these are credible plays on credible personas. But though Patti is managed by her longtime husband and advised by her longtime son, she nevertheless keynotes her multiplatinum bid with a tribute to the loneliness of the soulful yuppie, written by yet another successfully married couple but inspired I’m sure by one-cut-stand Michael McDonald (cf. Tina meets Bryan, Aretha meets George, and I bet Whitney trades Jermaine in on Phil Collins or somebody next time). Then again, Patti doesn’t start out with such surefire goods—her abrasive nasality has always kept her reputation cult. Which is why it’s just as well for Patti that Richard Perry overwhelms the eight other producers: beats and tunes kick in till you couldn’t care what organ she’s singing through. B

ROBERT PALMER “Riptide»

(Island)

If we’re to take the old fashion plate at his word (yeah sure), his pop breakthrough (finally! after all those good reviews!) was inspired by an affair with a high roller— holdings in Singapore and IBM, great dancer, like that. Sounds daunting, I must say. And as usual, what makes him barely listenable is his holdings in r & b. C +

PET SHOP BOYS “Please”

(EMI America)

I suppose the music’s blandness is part of the quite well-executed concept: articulating the modest hopes and not-so-quiet desperation behind the suburban facade of Smash Hits pop. But though I can hum most of the tunes and ponder most of the lyrics, the only moments I really love are provided by sound effects-sirens and breaking glass so skillfully integrated into the textures. B +

RAMONES “Animal Boy”

(Sire)

Even if “Animal Boy” and “Ape Man Hop” were code for B-boy, which they’re not, this wouldn’t keep the promise of the remixed and retitled “My Head Is Hanging Upside Down (Bonzo Goes To Bitburg),” because these days code is too fucking subtle. What we get instead is jungle bunnies, two (pretty good) songs about Joey’s drinking, another (not so good) one about his misery, Dee Dee one-for-three, the defensive-sounding “She Belongs To Me,” the defensive-sounding “Crummy Stuff,” and an anthem I believe called “Something To Believe In.” Consistency is what’s made them great. This is hit-or-miss. B +

LOU REED “Mistrial”

(RCA Victor)

Young modern Lou makes his electronic move, dispensing with live drums on six tracks and leaving the programming to newly apointed computer whiz Fernando Saunders. Old fart Lou works up a pretty fair head of current decrying “Video Violence” and bows to the ’80s by situating evil “Outside.” His most expedient album since The Bells and worst since Rock & Roll Heart.B

RUN-D.M.C.

“Raising Hell”

(Profile)

Like the Rolling Stones 20 years ago, they’re middle-class boys who are into music that’s hard above all—they’re street because they want to be. Granted, the analogy is less than exact. Where the Stones dramatized their streetness by becoming bohemians, Run-D.M.C. remain defiantly and even paradigmatically middleclass, a much tougher trick. Run-D.M.C. project less respect for women than the Stones, and less interest in them, too. They commit more lyrical gaffes. And their music is a lot further out. Without benefit of a “Sucker M.C.’s” or “King Of Rock,” this is their most uncompromising, compelling album—all hard beats and declaiming voices. They’re proud to be black all right, but I don’t think it has much to do with George Washington Carver. They’re proud because it means they can do this. AS