45 REVELATIONS

45 REVELATIONS

KEN BARNES

BY

Sometimes there’s just no pleasing me. Usually I’m pretty easygoing, I like practically everything that comes out, listen to pop radio and enjoy it, and have to forego writing about dozens of records I’m fond of every month because there are just too many. Yet for the second time in three months I can’t * choose a clear-cut Single of the Month (although let’s retroactively award the December title to “Human”), and on top of that I don’t really like Madonna’s “True Blue.”

Now that’s really hard to figure. When’s the last time I didn’t like a Madonna single? (“Crazy For You,” actually, but the only other one was “Material Girl.”) Not only that, I should be a sucker for a made-to-order 21-gun girl group genre salute like “True Blue.” Back in the early ’70s when writers were busily establishing the esthetic guidelines for ’60s styles (a pursuit about as useful as selling abacuses on the street corner, and every bit as lucrative), I would gush about girl groups at the drop of a tone arm. And “True Blue” is a reverent, skillfully executed tribute; it’s got bells, a restrained vocal and a standout bridge.

The tune is on the banal side (not exactly rare among girl group songs), and that makes me tire of it on the air sooner. But the real problem is when a record is as true blue to the genre as this one, you invite all the more readily comparisons to the greats, and sorry, “True Blue” is no “Then He Kissed Me/’ "Walking In The Rain,” or “One Fine Day,” It could be a “Chapel Of Love” or some Reparata & The Deirons also-ran, and that’s OK but that’s all. Hear also Belinda Carlisle’s “l Feel The Magic” for similar close-but-no-gold-star failings.

The Judds’ “Cry Myself to Sleep” is a spinetingler, their best since “Why Not Me,” real ominous minor-chord spookiness with a touch of blues. In a contrasting mood,' Qirls Next Door’s “Baby I Want It” is a cheery countrified girl groupish number that’s pure goodtime sex hormones.

This may come as a shock, but the Osmonds have made an excellent country record, “Looking For Suzanne.” It probably shocks most people that the Osmonds , are still making records at all, but they’ve been working the country side of the road for a few years, with markedly less success than sister Marie and no particular dis♦ tinction. But this song, written by the same guy (Paul Kennerley, Emmylou Harris’s husband) who wrote the Judds record above, is affectingly sparse, very pretty, and blessed with rather exquisite harmonies. Check it out—I wouldn’t use up a long paragraph if I wasn’t serious.

Club Nouveau is the group Jay King put together after his Timex Social Club got ticked off and splintered in the wake of “Rumors.” The new Club’s “Jealousy” is a follow-up in the gloriously crass tradition of most great one-shot acts—in other words, a complete soundalike—and I like it, frequent “Rumors” references and all. It may even be a bit more tuneful.

Close your eyes and “Do You Wanna Be” could be the latest Shannon or Regina single. Instead it’s a massive Down Under hit by an Australian septet called I’m Talking who earlier did a reasonable job on Rose Royce’s classic ballad “Love Don’t Live Here Anymore.” Pop hiphop crosses the pacific and survives quite impressively.

Meanwhile, in New Zealand a tenpiece aggregation called Soul On Ice moves into similar popdance territory on “I Want Love,” minus the hiphop production tricks and accentuating the pop, but with a soul horn section, synth squibs, and a solid dance track.

And Dave Dobbyn, leader of NZ’s D.D. Smash, who’ve been venturing into funk, teams up with NZ reggae act the Herbs for a one shot cartoon soundtrack single called “Slice Of Heaven,” and it sounds nothing like what either party’s been doing. It’s _ a quirky twist-and-turn pop tune with chunky rhythm guitar and pleasantly unpredictable complexities.

Australia’s Citadel label is on a hot streak (Stems, Some Loves, Died Pretty, Inner Sleeves, and more), and the Bamboos keep things cooking with a double-sided smoker. “Virgin” is an intense rock ballad worthy of any of our best American roots-rockers, while “Snuff” pumps the Raiders’. “Just Like Me” riff into ’80s overdrive, a rocker as vicious as its-dicey subject (snuff flicks, although it’s no endorsement, merely a commentary).

More powerful rock from Ireland’s Cactus World Naws on “The Bridge,” a remake of their first single. You can hear echoes of both U2 and Big Country (the usual CWN comparisons), but this song avoids the cliches of both, thanks to ferocious feedback and a commendable clarity of sound (avoiding that deadly Big Country murkiness).

I was complimenting Tom Cochrane when I called him a more intellectual Bryan Adams a couple of columns back, but on “The Untouchable One” he and Red Rider sound more like John Cougar Mellencamp anyway, and it rings like a champ. Fellow Canadian West Coasters Twentieth Century won a battle of the bands with “Without You,” which combines enough sheer energy and melodicism to explain why.

One of my weaknesses, in some ultramodern folks’ eyes (along with praising Osmonds records), is a continuing affection for Southern rock of the Lynyrd Skynyrd variety. This affliction applies not only to LS’s 70s material but to derivatives like 38 Special and spinoffs likq the RossingtohCollins Band. The latter group is now just plain Rossington, but retains the husband/wife team of singer Dale Krant and guitarist Gary Rossington and still kicks it out on the raspy rock riffing of “Turn It Up” (but those bells hint of subtle ’80s encroachment).

I haven’t quite figured out the point of concocting a faithful Staxisized version of “Soul Man,” enlisting Sam Moore to recreate his lead vocals, and then convincing Lou Reed to substitute for Dave Prater in Reed’s archetypal three-note-range deadpan style. Maybe it fits in a film about a white kid impersonating a black, but in any case it’s still kind of funny.