Re-issues Reviews

A healthy nihilism goes all bellicose for the poet who turns his pen into a sword.

In the most Orwellian of years Joseph Smalkowski, or Copernicus, decided it was time for his verses to not only produce a verbal music but also put some external sound to the words - and got himself a kindred-minded band. "Let the musicians declare war!!" goes "I Know What I Think", and they do so, indeed, with a full-blown aural onslaught onto which the leader lays his punky stentorian chant. Deranged delight! - unlike the mournful recital of "Let Me Rest" clocking at 11.11.

But the opener "I Won't Hurt You" delivers on its sweet, slithery, soulful promise that either skanks or slides to form the most romantic song Copernicus could offer. Still, being himself he couldn't help but break such an innocence in the sonic terror of "Nagasaki", hung on an urgent, oscillating and scintillating rock 'n' roll guitar riff. It's here that the poet denies the existence of everything, him included, so "Atomic Nevermore" spreads its spoken word over the emotional desert which somehow makes the listener explore the album's dry landscape again.

***1/2

The original angularity seeps away for guitar to feed on - and feedback - on a honeysuckle vine.

The second coming of the '60s hitmaker shows his creative juices didn't run dry in the wilderness.

A slave of Roulette Records whose boss Morris Levy put him in the fix, Tommy James couldn't allow his new music fall in such dirty hands and, after 1971, stopped recording until the contract was made void, to start anew five years later on the West Coast, on Fantasy, with these two strong works. James might have harbored the songs for half a decade but together they create a tasty whole, from the optimistic, almost spiritual flow of "Tighter, Tighter" on "In Touch" to the acoustic dreamcatcher of "Midnight Rider" the song, with its "My Sweet Lord" inflections. The drift also takes in a glam stomp so infectious in "One Track Mind" and "Do You Wanna Touch Me" that SWEET would have been proud of cooking it.

The "Calico" velvet heart even holds a sitar, yet the first album's core is harder than the second's where "Buddy Don't Leave Alone" drags on for more than 7 minutes and "Love Is Gonna Find A Way" pushes the banality border in its radio-friendly glow. Yet "What Happens To The Girl" is cool in the soft '70s way, whereas "Keep It In The Groove" kicks up the funk to prove the artist's versatility. It was worth waiting in the cold.

***** / ***

When the blues turn into a beautiful and exquisite tapestry, or the beginnings of one unique collective.

With attention always focused on their guitarists, nobody could tell what THE YARDBIRDS' soft core of singer Keith Relf and drummer - and one of the main composers - Jim McCarty would do once the band split up. Having left the name to their latest axeman Jimmy Page, who shaped his new group in a dirigible form, the two original members had more grandiose ideas of pursuing the art rock path where the "rock" part would play minimal role. And, unlike many of their peers, what RENAISSANCE, their new ensemble, came up with still feels totally organic and alluringly unpretentious, though big, in this marriage of different genres steered from a producer's chair by the main men's former bandmate Paul Samwell-Smith.

The small, theoretically acid-spiked masterpiece ripe for getting its due - and how the band got there.

If there's reason for the German-based Brits to remain in the progressive rock's second echelon, it's the lack of a shtick rather than of their imagination expanse - or depth, in the case of this, their second album, a concept work tight in its shortness yet vast in its scope. IRON MAIDEN kept the record in high esteem to have covered the raging optimism of "King Of Twilight", the last of the four compositions that "A Tab In The Ocean" comprises, including the side-long title piece.

Heralded with baroque organ and unfurling into a solemn march, the epic flows on Roye Albrighton's liquid guitar, his theatrical voice giving a context to the orchestra-like sweep of it all, while the melodies ripple and shift out of focus - an otherworldly effect which, according to the group's idea, might have been caused by slipping some LSD in the water. Meanwhile, "Desolation Valley / Waves" picks up more vibrant dynamics and jazzy vibe on its gelatin riff, and "Crying In The Dark" adds a soulful grit to it thanks to Derek Moore's bass that welcomes a nice storm into the harmonic brew making it almost irresistible - where else Moog solo runs across a funky scratch?

This deluxe edition, the first in the series of NEKTAR remasters, has an additional disc, "In The Beginning", with the legendary "Boston Tapes", laid down in the USA when the English quartet working in Hamburg had caught the eye of an American producer. Nothing came out of the sessions, yet three songs resurfaced, fully fledged, on "...Sounds Like This", a follow to "A Tab", but the naivete of songs like "Do You Believe In Magic" is arresting, and there's the best take on Del Shannon's "Runaway" you're ever likely to have on your tab.

****1/3

A historical moment can't overshadow its own soundtrack. 30 years on, the political climate's changed but the song remains the same.

The steps of the Reichtstag might be not the best place to stage a concert yet it's the ideal point to have about 200,000 punters mesmerised and listen to your every note, while being conscious of the fact that in some hundreds meters runs a wall which divides free world and the socialist camp. BJH knew that well - they even wrote a special song to mark the occasion, "In Memory Of The Martyrs", an acoustic, folky centerpiece of this album now restoring two cuts and mix from the initial limited edition, out in Germany only: the show was ridden with technical problems, and 11 tracks that form "Berlin" are what's been salvaged in a studio. The piano-led title track didn't mark the exact moment, though; it, like most of the numbers here, comes from the band's latest LPs.

One such cut, "Love On The Line" with its light danceble groove, translates live as a great opener which allows John Lees' guitar soar and share the wing spirit with the only classics on offer, the supremely majestic in concert version "Child Of The Universe" and "Mockingbird", as transfixingly transparent, before growing anthemic, as another new composition, "Live Is For Living", that rolls easily on Mel Pritchard's sensual percussion. The repertoire seems to be specifically on the life-affirming side, so "Sip Of Wine", carried by Les Holroyd's funky bass throb and vocals harmonies, is a real stage gem, and "Loving Is Easy" surely rocked the Wall's stones. A subtle contribution to history, perhaps, but three decades down the line it still echoes loudly.

****3/4

Experiments for the sake of it - with mixed results and a big break in solo career.

A fount of youth found in a crime of passion. Veterans enter their third decade rejuvenated and slick.

This album's title sits so tight in the Hawk-fans lexicon that it's hard to believe the disc was released only in 1990 to present a very different band to the ones those in the group's wake knew. The masculine heroics and heaviness of the '80s stepped back before a new, feminine elements edged in to change the balance: if Stacia the dancer called for focal attention, Bridget the singer commanded the vocal point - exactly what the times needed.

Ms Wishart's voice smoothes the sharp edge of Dave Brock's guitar in "Images" setting the course for more new-wavish wonders and taking in synth wave from Harvey Bainbridge and Simon House's voilin spice in its almost 10-minute cosmic journey. A couple of soundcapes from Alan Davey, whose bass punctures the universal matter elsewhere, keep the momentum pregnant with expectancy but it gets lost in the noodling of "Black Elk Speaks" that features John Neihardt reading the words of a famous Sioux healer. The groove is picked up with the stroboscopic buzz of "T.V. Suicide", yet the psychedelic rave-up of "Out Of The Shadows" represents a genuine return to the "Silver Machine" base. In the most threatening live take - in the bonus section, alongside the enchanter "Snake Dance", criminally unreleased before - it's as bandit as it gets for the veteran band. A real rebirth.

***3/4

Lysergic juggernaut from hippies-turned-punk and stuck in the middle of space.

Strange creatures crawled out from the shady Ladroke Grove area, and HERE & NOW were among the weirdest in their endless jams and bottomless idealism. That's a good logic in letting one's hair down while always playing for free and passing a hat afterwards, so the punters who didn't like it might leave or keep their pennies. A bit out of this world, perhaps, that's why Daevid Allen zapped the bunch for his PLANET GONG and they came out the other end more alien than before at the moment when punk reigned. God only knows what the spiky mob made of the music preserved here, especially of the madful slide guitars in "Think For Yourself" that opens this live recording and the sprawling motoriks if "Surgeon's Knife".

But they could relate to "The End Of The Beginning" and "70's Youth", though elsewhere it sounds like the chipmunked HAWKWIND flying in teapots, and an acid-free listener will have to check if the CD player's speed is right. Yet ballad "Only Way" is airily progressive, while the phasing effect which undescores "Open Door" can't hide the blues behind its riffs, so the cosmic brew, inebriating in delicious improvisation of "Jam", feels well-grounded. Still, the bonus single turns the ground upside down, as instrumental "Choke A Koala" rides a ska wave in style. A nice trip if you like a bumpy ride.

**

The second installment in the Tommy James' reissues series. A classy return to form from the "Mony Mony" man and the sacrifice to the times.

The '70s weren't too kind for Tommy James who, having disbanded THE SHONDELLS, went solo and after 1971's "Draggin' The Line" hung in hit limbo with no desire to record for the mob-connected Morris Levy, the same one who had John Lennon entangled in the "Rock 'n' Roll" adventure. By the end of the decade, though, James was free and engaging his muse again.

In 1980, back in the dear to his heart New York, the singer came up with the surprisingly strong "Three Times In Love" LP which marries his classic '60s writing style to a new era's pop tendencies. This combination is genuinely irresistible in the title track that entered Top 20, while "It's Magic" holds the exact mix of saccharine and stringed lace to be one adorable ballad. At the same time, "Lady In White" adds boogie to the disco snap, whereas "You Got Me" rolls on the distinctly West Coast guitars. Infectious riffs interspersed with accentuated bass are aplenty here, culminating in the rockarama of "I Just Wanna Play The Music".

Released 10 years later, "Hi Fi" accumulated the worst the '80s had to offer and is mostly lifeless, if melodic. From the opener "Go" the synthesizers suck out any zip there is, and the Chris De Burgh mask James tries to don in "Love You Too Much" doesn't fit at all. The cello-spiced "Ordinary Girl" feels good yet too, er, ordinarily generic, but if "Annie Come Knockin'" spills its riff into the electric swamp, the slight rocking keeps "Burnin' For You" above the morass. Yet Tommy keeps on burning still, and the "high fidelity" term can describe the man himself.

**** / **

The second and, alas, last chapter in a short-lived but long-lingering story of broken dreams.

Perpetuum mobile, or a progressive rock sampler from one of the most vociferous labels around.

When West meets East, or a melodius meditation as an art form rather than religious practice. Get drowned in drone and then some.

One doomed supergroup with not so superb, yet highly enjoyable album.

Poker-faced rather than po-faced, prog goes pop to flow with the times.

Late '70s saw art rock bands dismissed as dinosaurs which didn't prevent two Edinburgh students, Peter Veitch and Chris Thomson, from picking up, respectively, keyboards and guitar, and taking their songs to the stage - and into a studio where Rupert Hine applied his Canterbury nous to this fine collection. A sole cover, Bobby Bland's infectious "Ain't No Love In The Heart Of The City", plus riffs of fusion-glossy "Farewell, My Lovely", get it all rooted in the rhythm-and-blues, and CARAVAN's Geoff Richardson's flute paints "Sands Of Singapore" into proggy colors, yet there's a contemporary lightness of touch to the bass-punctured opener "Meaningless" to set the smooth tone which makes all the album so attractively even.

Spiky "Dark Eyed Johnny" might be melodiously reflecting the era of punk and disco, and "None Of Your Business" comes full of jerky, Cajun-smeared sneer, while the gentle, though not too delicate, "Eberenthel" and the transparent, French-worded "Crime Passionelle" that rolls on the synth bed, are two of the best ballads to have come from the age of plastic music that was the other side of it all. Maybe it's this multi-facetedness that makes "Round The Back" sound as fresh today but whatever the reason, it's a pleasure - doesn't matter guilty or not.

****1/3

A durable missile that went amiss to be remelted into HARD STUFF but hot and stinging still.

The ivory heroics in the land of light, shade and enlightenment.

Now one can only surmise if Peter Bardens' joining CAMEL, for which he's mostly known, was a blessing or a curse. The band's gain, as his playing underpinned their guitarist's vision, might have been the pianist's loss. A leader in his own right, having steered the careers of Peter Green and Rod Stewart, Bardens came from Georgie Fame class of rhythm-and-blues and could rage heavily like Jon Lord, with all his abilities are laid out here, on his solo debut - or in the epic "Homade To The God Of Light" that took up the whole second side on vinyl and steals the show here: it's an all-encompassing tribal festival, a tension-building funky kaleidoscope of aural images that swirl around Hammond's roar. A blinder.

Still, if the light needs a shadow for contrast, it lies in the riffy murk of "Don't Goof With A Spook", chilly to the bare bone, while the 10-minute-plus "I Can't Remember" with its life-affirming buzz is a precocious slice of infectious Afro-rock that breaks into a rocky groove for Bardens to jive to the tilt. But it takes some time to get there, and the immersion starts with the title track where, once the playful piano sets the classical tone, the tasty organ rolls out a bedrock for Andy Gee's ethereal guitar and Peter's soft vocals which duel with Steve Ellis' bluesy voice. A wailing of different kind comes from Peter Green and Linda Lewis on the boogie walk of "Let's Get It On" - simple, catchy and impressive.

Less so are two single sides from VILLAGE, a band Peter Bardens had worked before embarking on "The Answer", but these swinging bonuses provide a peek into the mindset that gave birth to this monument of an album which still stands tall and true.

*****

Where the gloss devours the rustic: the folkers' shamelessly shining hour and a concert journey to and from it.

Authenticity wasn't something Chris Simpson's band cared for as much as FAIRPORTS or STEELEYE, which to some extent gave MAGNA CARTA more freedom while denying the group the misty-eyed appeal of their peers. This approach, though, paved the way to "Midnight Blue": laid down in 1982 when most folk rockers felt like going the dodo way, it's a great collection of songs. It might be set in motion by a glossy country roll of "Slowbone Jones" but instead of usual homespun feel, so prominent here on the slide-sprinkled "I'll Walk Mine", there's many a scintillating urban moment. The nocturnal velvet wraps the funky smut of the title track, the soul ballads like "Wind On The Water", with Kate Robbins vocals sharing the spotlight with Simpson's, or "Have A Nice Day", and even the bass-shaking boogie of "It's So Easy" that bristles with Philly brass. Languidness and glitter that reach the zenith in "Little Bit Of My Heart" suit this band well!

A shuffle every now and then, the album underwent a little re-shuffling with one original track excised and supplanted with two cuts from the same sessions, not to mention a smattering of new compositions - and a whole disc of concert recordings, for the most part from two last decades. Classics ("Time For The Leaving", "Airport Song"), rarities (the aforementioned, and very different, "Wind On The Water"), covers (J.J. Cale's "Call Me The Breeze" with an exquisite fretwork from the leader) and recent songs (the amazing, epic "Fields Of Eden") possess contemporary shine and mellow mood, and see Linda Simpson duetting with her husband. Yet hidden among them is a real gem: an acoustic instrumental "Sponge" from 1971 which makes the on-stage time-trip go full circle and present more unexpected sides to MAGNA CARTA.

**** / ***1/3

A (dis)quiet revolutuion in sound, or one-man sonic crusade into the ambient world.

One can admire Eno but the Brit artist wasn't that much of a pioneer when it came to the ambient music for there was Georg Deuter before him, and "D", the first entry in the manifold string of his recordings, is a milestone on many levels. Recovering from a car accident, Deuter, a graphic designer from Munich, discovered there were more dimensions to the world and set to explore it with aural tools. Alone, with a two-track tape recorder, for months he built a disturbing edifice, a reflection of Germany through Stockhausen's prism yet palatable enough for the art rock audience.

There's a lot of sharpness in "Der Turm / Fluchpunkt" to hook the hard-psych crowd on its riffs, while floating effects, funereal bells and babies' cries of the four-part "Babylon" throw a listener into much deeper end, with "Atlantis" drowning the music into its waves. Still, there's a light into that underwater swirl, an FX-laden guitar leading the way: it meanders through the Eastern drones onto the folk pastures and then shoots its clear rays to fill the emotional void and turn it into the madful fair with a synth for a barrel organ and then, in the del(h)icious "Krishna Eating Fish And Chips", sails Eastwards again. The results could have been trance-inducing if not for the full absence of serenity, even in the lulling sway of "Gammastrahlen-Lamm", and it feels great to be constantly disturbed. A work of genius - almost.

****4/5

The silence may come after defeaning thunder - and two heavy stalkers provide it here in exquisite spades.