ROCK-A-RAMA

ROCK A RAMA

This month s Rock-A-Ramas were written by: Michael Davis, Jim DeRogatis, David Sprague, Brett Bush, Jill Blardinelli, Steve Peters.

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN Barbed Wire Kisses (Warner Brothers)

Like a lot of English pop bands, the Jesus and Mary Chain has been a great singles group whose albums have always fallen short. Thus, it’s no surprise that their finest iong-player yet is actually a collection of 45-only tunes, B-sides and home demos. Without the conceit of trying to make a great pop record for the ’80s, the J&M Chain are free to have fun mixing ’60s garage rock roots with their patented wall-of-feedback-over-primaldrums. The results are awe-inspiring on covers like the Beach Boys’ “Surfin’ USA,” and Bo Diddley’s “Who Do You Love” and the Nancy Sinatra homage, “Sidevvalking.” But the best example of the Reid brothers charms is “Upside Down,” their first—and most demented— single. If you’ve ever had even a passing flirtation with frenzied feedback, this is the song for you, and it alone is worth the price of admission.

J.D.

SPOT 1019 This World Owes Me A Buzz (Pitch A Tent) ALICE DONUT Donut Comes Alive (Alternative tentacles)

Two killers from the (rightly) much maligned field of wacky-nutty-mindfucking punk-based scrunge. Few of their ilk score points either performance-wise or in the belly-laugh dept., but (on the first count maybe it’s just me) both o’ these crews can, er, go both ways. Spot 1019, outta the ever-growing Camper Van Beethoven stable—literally, it’s Camper’s label—bear a striking resemblance to a non-ethnic CUB. There’s obviously been a little dope smoking goin’ around the Spot pad, judgin’ from the stutter-steppin’ they perform between, say, the Beefheart-ian wail of “Bucket Of Blood” and the speed-polka “Peace War.” Spot’s appeal goes beyond the cerebral, too, courtesy of a firehose-like, amazingly tight rhythm section (they really shine though on “Love’s Pillory” and “Interesting People”). Alice Donut, on the otherhand, barrel straight over their targets (which include the more obscure) with an alcohol soaked combination of Butthole Surfersy aggression and 12-years-ofCatholic-school pent-up futy. Singer Thomas Antoria shrieks lines like “I come prematurely and I don’t give a shit!” (in ‘‘American Fingers”) and prove the Donut one of the more macho bands alive, and still manages to deliver a sincere ballad like “Grfeat Big Big Big Head.” Cool cover o’ “Sunshine Superman” with brand new lyrics, too. More fun than a barrel-full of viral infectioh, you bet!

D.S.

COLIN NEWMAN It Seems (Restless)

Wire’s lovable lead vocalist is back with his fifth solo album, which mixes the hypnotic chamber music of last year’s Commercial Suicide with the pop approach of earlier solo efforts. Newman draws from a broad spectrum of sounds ranging from classical horn and string combinations to pulsing synthesizers to form a.backdrop for his engaging vocals and the harmonies provided by his wife, Malka. As always, Newman’s tongue seems to be planted firmly in cheek on tunes like “Quite Unrehearsed,” with a vocal that owes more than a passing nod to Morrisey; the psychedelic “Round & Round,” which dissolves into a trippy swirl of tapes playing at different speeds and “Better Late Than Never,” which is given added punch by a guest appearance of Wire drumrrifer Robert Gotobed and some James Brown-like horn flourishes. Art music aimed at the dance floor.

J.D.

THE YOUNG FRESH FELLOWS Totally Lost (Frontier)

Paul Westerberg is a rock critic who we can all trust. His favorite band, according to Replacements’ interviews, is Seattle’s Young Fresh Fellows, arid the Fellows’ new album, Totally Lost, shows why. It’s irrepressible, human, friendly and genuine. Justa bunch of great songs played with sloppy musical genius. There’s nothin’ about Amy Grant this time around (though last year’s The Men Who Loved Music, immortalizes the couplet, “When she comes home frdm church, she’s gotta take off her plants, that’s what I like about Amy Grant”). But their irreverent conversation piece song on Totally Lost, called “Universal Trendsetter” is just as much dn exercise in living dangerously. By dishing but satire to the deserving (“I put my whole heart and soul into my catalog of hipness”) they’re sure to piss off just ab many people. Other highlights of Totally Lost are iove songs, the first of their kind on a Fellows album. Their trick is to hook the unsuspecting listener in with a realistic tender love song, only to stun and amuse a moment later with nonsense details (“I want you to fix my wagon but I can’t show you how” or “Don’t kiss my hand when it’s dripping with sweat.”) You gotta be smart in a sort of stoopid way tb get silly over this record, and because bnly so many people are like that The Fellows might not ever be bigger than their chums the ’Mats.

TURN TO PAGE 50

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 30

J.B.

VARIOUS ARTISTS Let it Bleat (Gore)

A document of the current spate of Iggy/Dolis worshipping Hollywood sleaze bands, Let It Bleat has a cool cover and a couple of gems that probably won’t turn up elsewhere. Motorcycle Boy, Celebrity Skin, Demolition Gore Galore and Sludge may seem to have crawled from the same dumpster as Guns ’N Roses at first spin, but the lyrics and earnest licks reveal a sense of humor and definite lack of glam fashion sensibility. When Screaming Lord Sludge wails “I was born to boogie/I was raised to rock,” the paean is deftly delivered like Bon Scott eating sand^ paper, but you soon know he’s kinda makin’ fun of the other guys who sing stuff like that and consider it a personal truth. Celebrity Skin and Demolition Gore Galore are fun sioppy Thiinders guitar meanderings. The band who may not be getting the joke is Motorcycle Boy, whose “Kenny Toy” is apparently a serious ode to the sexual prowess of their own drummer. The masterpieces, the run out and grab this record now nuggets, are presented by an elusive duo called KeethsTeeth, and may or may not be two lost Keef originals. Screeching laid-back fuckup sparse Beggars Banquet outtakes laced with a middle of the night wair and back up mewls by either Johnny Thunders or a Siamese cat in heat.. . After the fifty millionth Stooges/MC5 revival, it is hard fo find anything exciting in this 10th generation whisky and amphetamine glam shit, but I’d rather have my kids growin’ up to the sounds of Siudge and Motorcycle Boy than Slayer and Whitney Houston.

B.B.

PHILIP GLASS Powaqqatsi (Elektra/NonesuOh)

This soundtrack might come as a bit of a surprise to those who’ve gotten used to the repetitive elements Glass has been so fond of in the past. One of the main criticisms regularly leveled at the artiste is that his sparse, minimalist style has long been devoid of any real feeling. But the ominous keyboards that dominated so much of Koyaanisqatsi, this slab’s predecessor, are kept to a minimum here, with Glass often relying heavily on rich African percussion to convey an uncharacteristic sense of warmth. On one level, Powaqqatsi might still be construed as pretentious gurgling for the New Age bourgeoisie, but it’s undoubtably the most human record Glass has made to date.

S.P.

RYUICHI SAKAMOTO Neo Geo (Epic)

Sakamoto may be celebrated as a multi-threat renaissance man in Japan but this is his first non-soundtrack U.S. release in years. The production, by Sakamoto and the ever-present Bill Laswell, contrasts thick bottoms played by people like Sly Dunbar, Tony Williams and “Bootsy” Collins with Sakamoto’s distinctive precise keyboards and various atmospheric and/or vocal aides. The result is a smattering of effective dance tracks, a guest ballad from Iggy Pop, and one transcendent moment: when the “beautiful” new aging “Before Long” is crushed beneath the heavy cross-cultural funk of the title track. Hilarious or inscrutable: you decide.

M.D.