ROCK • A • RAMA

ROCK. A.RAMA

This month’s Rock-A-Ramas were written by Michael Davis, Richard Riegel,

Dave Segal, Jon Young, Craig Zeller & Richard C. Walls.

BEAT FARMERS The Pursuit Of Happiness (MCA/Curb)

Like most post-punk country-rock bands, the Beat Farmers are more than slightly twisted; unlike many of ’em, they can also write songs and play their instruments. Their best stuff suggests the concerns and attitudes of Kinky Friedman crossed with the popcraft of the Hoodoo Gurus, and they even have the good sense to cover a Tom Waits tune from his currently-out-of-print Closing Time LP. Of course, if you wonder how a band that prints occasionally “tasteless” lyrics that they don’t even sing ends up on Mike Curb’s label.. .come to think of it, so do I. M.D.

THE VAGRANTS The Great Lost Album (Arista)

This is my favorite new release of the month, maybe because I’ve waited for it a whole 15 years—ever since I discovered the Vagrants’ thumping rendition of “Respect” on Lenny Kaye’s Nuggets compilation. I wanted more of these “The-Rascals-AreGod” Long Islanders right then, but soon found that the Vagrants existed only on scattered singles, almost all copies of which were already clutched in t he near mint fingers of the pro collectors. Arista has now remedied the dearth of Vagrants recordings by uniting four of the group’s 1966 Vanguard sides, and six of their 1967-68 Atco sides, into one brand new album. Not everything on here is quite as raucous as lead cut “Respect,” but each song is a charming, rocking slice of that just-before-thepsychedelic-dawn era of American pop, when it easily could’ve gone folk or soul, just like that. This album has a spectacular cover too: a bright, clear photo of five young men in the latest Carnaby Street threads, in what appears to be a contemporary, loving recreation of a J.C. Penney-Mod-FashionsGo-Back-To-Campus-ln-’66 shopping center display, but then you notice the young Leslie West himself, stuffed into a turtleneck sweater and C.P.O. jacket, and you know that this is The Real Thing. So were the Vagrants. R.R.

THE DESCENDENTS All (SST)

This blasted to fragments my presumptions of this band as typical snot-encrusted,

middle-class nihilists. What is this? A California ’core combo with playfulness, humor and lucidity? It’s no hallucination, swear to D. Boon. The songs here jerk and splutter like spastic donkeys. A crafty Buzzcockian pop sense raises its scruffy head when ypu least expect it. Faint echoes of Wire flit here and there. I’m a fan! With fizzbombing cuts like “Coolidge,” “Clean Sheets,” “Van” and “Pep Talk,” the Descendents ascend to Husker Du’s Warehouse via the Zen Ar-

cade. It’s a great place to be. D.S.

BINKY PHILIPS (Caroline)

A long-time fixture on the New York scene, good ol’ Binky has finally connected with a blistering five-song EP. As a guitarist, the boy mixes Townshendian chords and flashy fills, soloing just enough to prove he’s hot stuff. At the mike, Philips becomes a howling, hopped-up dude in the throes of emotional difficulty. For high-intensity thrills, get yourself a searing earful of “Watching Wendy Walk Away,” a thundering, all-tooreal tale of woe, or dig the snarling “Out Of My Life,” one of the crankiest kiss-offs ever. But however distraught the subject matter, what comes through first and foremost is a love for tough, old-fashioned rock ’n’ roll, the

kind with brains as well as brawn. Rave on! J.Y.

BILL BRUFORD Earthworks (Editions EG)

FIRST HOUSE Erendire (ECM)

Supposedly there’s a jazz resurgence of

sorts going on in England, but, judging by these two records and tenor saxist Courtney Pine’s on Antilles (so-so), I’d say it isn’t amounting to much yet; there’s a lot more nutrients in American neo-classicism and our avant-garde hold-outs than there are in these pretty-but-shallow cuties. The Bruford record is almost done in just by its liner notes; a silly, inaccurate history of jazz followed by sillier, grandiose claims for the record’s achievements. Actually, this is a pastiche of fusion and less lumbering jazz forms, done with a lot of attention to detail, and a handful of serviceable sax solos (and one free jazz interlude—on “Emotional Shirt”—thrown in to impress you). Two of Bruford’s mates turn up as half of First House, a broody quartet, volunteers in the Keith Jarrett wing of post-fusion acoustic romanticism. These guys are too serious by half—just the kind of humorless “artiste” that the dummy who wrote the Bruford liners goes on about (a positive note: pianist Django Bates has some impressive moments on both records). R.C.W.

WENDY WALDMAN Letters Home (Cypress)

Waldman’s one of those troubled troubadour chanteuses that’s been kicking around for ages. In 1978, she released another dull “sensitive” album (Strange Company) and shocked the hell out of me with “Fool To Let Him Slip Away,” a stunning display of desperate passion and energized pop power. Almost a decade later, after years of obscurity, she puts out a record that proves "Fool” was no fluke. It has some uneven patches and she still lapses into navel-gazing, but most of the time she’s burning with a bad desire. At long last, Wendy Waldman rocks. “Tonight,” “The Longest Summer” and the unforgettable “Living In Hard Times” could’ve been highlights from Rumours. Maybe Fleetwood should show Stevie the door and bring Wendy on board. C.Z.

BUTTHOLE SURFERS Locust Abortion Technician (Touch & Go)

More post-everything mind fallout from these sensitive Texas millionaires. As usual, the Surfers display more, uh, unusual ideas than ZZ Top’s got facial hairs. They slam an enema up Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf” on “Sweet Loaf,” lysergicize the blues on “Graveyard,” ooze Beefheartian blues at 16 rpm on “Pittsburgh To Lebanon,” aim for Casey Kasemville on the unhinged DOR of “Human Cannonball” and crank out plenty of otherworldly bizarreness that only the Surfers could create. You’d best huriy and buy this before the F.D.A. bans it. D.S.

AMAZULU Amazuiu (Mango)

What have we here? Bananarama shot through with ska? Debbie Harry in a loose mood doin’ the Natty Dread? Maybe a little bit of both. And I’ll bet Debbie and the ’Ramas wish they had put pieces of pleasure like “Excitable” and “Too Soon To Be Forgotten” on their last outings. Amazuiu consists of three women known as Lesley, Anne Marie, and Sharon; their sassy intertwining of heated Third World grooves and modern pop smarts makes for one winning combo. A fresh update of Bobby Bloom’s “Montego Bay” could make it a hit all over again, but my money’s on the exceedingly carefree “Too Good To Be Forgotten.” Somewhere the Chi-Lites are smiling.C.Z.

DAVID THOMAS AND THE WOODEN BIRDS Blame The Messenger (Twin Tone)

Just as Elvis Costello successfully raided

the styles and snarls of Armed Forces for his Blood & Chocolate triumph, so is David Thomas reinvestigating his new wave days to reinvigorate his music. Yep, this is the album most Pere Ubu fans had given up waiting for long ago; in effect, it’s the real followup to Dub Housing. Rejoined by bass ace Maimone and analog synth wizard Ravenstine—along with ex-Henry Cow drummer Chris Cutler and guitarist Jim Jones from Maimone’s Home & Garden project—Thomas downplays his avantclown persona in favor of an uneasy postindustrial bluesman, caught in a noisy urban landscape of a careless god’s making. Jones plays with taste and restraint, so it’s up to the more aggressive tendencies of Cutler and Ravenstine to create this ingeniously-controlled sound of things going out of control. Of course, this record is just as out-of-touch with today’s mainstream as Ubu was back in ’78; you can go home again, but it’s just as weird as it ever was. M.D.

TONY BENNETT Jazz (Columbia)

Theme here is that Tony Bennett’s not really that clown in a bad toup who appeared in an unnecessary video of “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” a few years ago. Time was, in a Sinatra-centered universe, that jazz rather than rock was the flavor of crossover pop, and Bennett gave it some good shots on these selections, recorded between 1954 and 1967. The con-

cept of Tony Bennett working the same session as Art Blakely is a bit bizarre to the novice, but it actually took place back in ’57, and it sounds like they had a swinging time, too. Ultimately these selections are more jazzy pop than out & out bop, but the classic tunes (by sublime pros like Duke Ellington and Cole Porter) are always nice to hear again. Memo to Tony Bennett: Don’t bother making any more videos, as your vocal performances on here give my mind’s eye enough cinematic visions of celestial supper clubs already. R.R.

PETER BROTZMANN/ BILL LASWELL Lowlife (Celluloid)

Finally, a post-industrial music to go along with the world we’re living in. Bassist Laswell you may (think you) know from Material and production gigs with PiL, Motorhead and Mick Jagger, among others. Sax player Brotzmann has been a leading alternative jazz giant in Europe for more than 20 years now, and he still sounds able to stop an elephant at 50 yards—or even become the elephant. Laswell matches him sonically, ranging from a Jack Bruce-like attack to a jackhammer, staging spontaneous ambushes along the way, then adding to them with overdubbed lines and effects. I’ve never heard saxophonics framed this way before; any electric bassist searching for new sounds and approaches in the studio should check this album out. M.D.