THIN LIZZY – Thin Lizzy

thin lizzy

Thin Lizzy’s debut LP is a curious affair. The original group, comprised of Phil Lynott (vocals/bass), Eric Bell (guitar) and Brian Downey (drums) were supposedly conceived as a power trio – a hard rock format which had gained popularity in the late 60s with the likes of Cream – yet very little from their 1971 self-titled offering reflects that. It’s not weak, by any means, but overall it’s more ‘trio’ than ‘power’ and musically, much of it bears little resemblance to the band Lizzy would later become.

Despite most of the material not sounding much like classic Lizzy, it’s clear, even here, that Lynott is a charismatic frontman, an emotive vocalist and superb bassist. All of which are qualities which have a strong presence during ‘Honesty Is No Excuse’, a mid paced, soulful number. Lynott’s vocal delivery sounds like a man making an honest plea, with his voice almost cracking on the longer notes. While his bass work on this track is never flash, it’s got warmth, pinning the song down but never becoming intrusive. ‘Eire’ and ‘The Continuing Saga of The Aging Orphan’ are very fragile: ‘Eire’ features some simple bass playing from Lynott, while colourful guitar flourishes from Bell push what would’ve been a simple folk tale into folk-rock territory. During ‘Aging Orphan’, Bell and Downey are reduced to little more than backing for Lynott’s vocal, which is full of sadness.

‘Ray-Gun’ and ‘Look What The Wind Blew In’ are outright rockers, which are surprisingly enjoyable. ‘Ray-Gun’ showcases bluesy electric work from Eric Bell. The main groove is provided by his wah-wah riff, over which Lynott plays an incredibly funky bass. It’s one of the only moments where the three guys get close to the typical power trio style. ‘Look What The Wind Blew In’ feels simpler; it has a looser groove which ends up feeling a little messy, especially on the chorus, where Lynott chooses a smooth vocal style which doesn’t suit the tune…and then uses that to sing something which doesn’t really scan properly. ‘Return of the Farmer’s Son’ also demonstrates the band’s rock side. Brian Downey’s drum fills are excellent; Phil’s bass and vocals are aggressive and Eric’s blues-rock soloing gives the piece a decent edge. If Lizzy had looked towards this blues-rock style more instead of concentrating on a non-specific blend of psych, folk and blues, this would have been a very different record indeed. (Although, it clearly didn’t always work: ‘Remembering Part 1’ attempts to get tough, but ends up rather muddled).

‘Diddy Levine’ is a track that showcases the range of styles played by the original three-piece line-up in just over seven minutes. The verses are wordy and wistful, there are acoustic folk stylings, but as the song progresses, a hard rock riff develops. While there’s nothing wrong here, its folk elements aren’t as good as some of the album’s other gentler moments and any attempt to rock out doesn’t match the excitement generated by ‘Return of the Farmer’s Son’.

Thin Lizzy followed their debut with ‘Shades of a Blue Orphanage’, an album which showcased Lizzy’s growing confidence. That confidence manifested itself in a set of songs which showcase a slightly broader set of influences. As a result, the album feels rather unfocused. This second album also sold poorly. However, by the beginning of 1973, with two non-charting albums to their name, Thin Lizzy’s fortunes were about to change.

[A remastered version of ‘Thin Lizzy’ features bonus tracks culled from the Irish ‘New Day’ EP and another non-album single, ‘The Farmer’. Also included are overdubbed and remixed versions of four of the debuts songs – all of which were previously available on the 1979 Decca compilation ‘The Continuing Saga of the Ageing Orphans’.]

January 2010

HEART – Red Velvet Car

heart

Back in 2004, I was quite excited by the idea of Heart returning. The release of that year’s ‘Jupiter’s Darling’ marked the first new material released under the Heart name for nearly a decade. Ann and Nancy Wilson worked with regular collaborator Sue Ennis in the interim under the name The Lovemongers, concentrating on folky and pop-rock styles, but sadly, their one proper album release did little for me despite having been a fan of the Wilsons for many years. Heart’s ‘Jupiter’s Darling’ was a return to the band’s heavy Led Zeppelin influenced sound from the 70s, but tweaked slightly for the 90s. While it was great to have Heart back (even if in name only), the album contained little in the way of memorable material (it flopped, supposedly only shifting 100,000 copies). The supporting tour – which saw the band returning to the UK after many years without a visit – was absolutely cracking though, so that reunion wasn’t without merit. Heart continued to play sporadic live shows after that, but Nancy’s main focus became scoring her husband Cameron Crowe’s movies, while in 2007 Ann recorded her first full solo album.

Six years after ‘Jupiter’s Darling’, ‘Red Velvet Car’ continues to plough Heart’s seventies rock roots. Those looking for the eighties style power ballads which made Heart megastars outside of the US in the 80s will undoubtedly be disappointed, since bluesy Zeppelin-isms are the main order of the day here. Sadly, although the style is in keeping with Heart’s earliest work, a good chunk of the material lacks the spark and immediacy of Heart’s best 70s outing. The arrangements feel somewhat leaden in places (though nowhere near as much as those on ‘Jupiter’s Darling’) and rather more worryingly, Ann Wilson’s once matchless vocal shows signs of wear It’s slightly husky edge is well suited to the bluesier moments of ‘Red Velvet Car’, but her trademark wail appears to struggle on the rockier cuts. For the most part, Ann’s voice just doesn’t stretch beyond what sounds like an untrained mid-range any more…

This is obvious from the single release, ‘WTF’ which appears to be a deliberate attempt to give the album a hard rocker in the style of ‘Barracuda’. While it’s musically okay, Ann’s vocal has been fuzzed up to make it sound grittier (though most likely it’s an attempt to mask her inabilities to hit the huge notes the way she once did). While the main riff shows great promise, there’s no hook to back it up. Similarly, the deliberate driving nature of ‘Wheels’ is empty once you get past a promising heavily percussive rhythm. Also with a percussive nature, the slide guitar blues-rock of ‘There You Go Again’ works better due to a more understated arrangement – making decent use of Ann’s slightly cracked vocal in the process. You’d think that ‘Bootful of Beer’, echoing the bar-room rock of The Quireboys and The Faces would be well suited to Heart’s retro blues-rock shoes, but the end result is painful. Craig Bartock’s twangy guitars and Ben Smith’s simple drum work lay a decent foundation, but the song otherwise feels forced. There’s not even a boogie piano line to help sweep things along. While Heart were always first rate at Led Zeppelin style hard rock, whiskey soaked blues-rock just doesn’t work for them. Maybe this would have worked for Alannah Myles in the 80s or Sass Jordan in the 90s, but for Heart in the 21st Century…nah.

The high points of the album the ones with pastel shades, as Ann’s voice doesn’t take a hammering and the band sound far more natural. Particularly good are the couple of tracks where Nancy takes lead: ‘Hey You’ is an upbeat acoustic number which would have fit snugly on to any of Heart’s 70s masterpieces. The spirit of classic Heart is further strengthened once Ann provides accompaniment on the autoharp. ‘Sunflower’ has a semi-acoustic bluesy swagger, with Nancy’s acoustic work counterbalanced by Craig Bartock’s subtle electric lead. Not as sublime as ‘Hey You’, but another definite reason to check out the album. The gentle acoustic ‘Sand’ echoes ‘Dog and Butterfly’, with a soft summer feeling as Ann’s understated vocal really carries the song. The quiet moments are proof enough that Ann’s voice is still there, but midway as she attempts one of her Robert Plant inspired wails, the cracks appear again. Luckily, she’s backed by Nancy providing a great harmony vocal.

Like Heart’s 70s albums, ‘Red Velvet Car’ isn’t without it’s mandolin moment, as ‘Safronia’s Mark’ has moments which – as is quite often the case – sound like a direct lift from Led Zeppelin’s ‘Battle of Evermore’. While one of the album’s better moments, there’s still no doubt that Heart have done this before…and much better. And that, on the most base level is the album’s greatest fault. Like ‘Jupiter’s Darling’, ‘Red Velvet Car’ really doesn’t represent Heart’s brilliance.

While it was never going to be a release to pull in casual listeners, I have a feeling that lots of long-term fans are likely to also greet this with indifference. There are some good songs here – and even a couple of excellent ones (despite my mixed feelings, it’s certainly better than ‘Jupiter’s Darling’) – but it’s hugely unlikely anyone would choose to listen to this album when there are so many superior albums in Heart’s back catalogue.

August 2010

RICK DERRINGER – All American Boy

rick

Rick Derringer has had a long career. From being a member of the McCoys (of ‘Hang On Sloopy’ fame), to sterling work with Edgar and Johnny Winter during their glory years, to releasing many solo albums, there’s plenty to enjoy. ‘All American Boy’, Derringer’s first solo outing from 1974 is one of his best (though I would argue that the first half of his solo career, up to 1980 is well worth investigation).

Kicking off with the evergreen classic ‘Rock N Roll, Hoochie Koo’ (Derringer’s best known solo recording), you’ll have a fair idea of where the next forty minutes is headed.
‘Joy Ride’ is a short high-gear instrumental. The drum sound here is excellent and while the overall effect is unashamedly 70s, this is the sound of a band of musicians at the top of their game. On the other hand, ‘Cheap Tequila’ is never a track I find myself eager to listen to. It sounds like it was designed as fun, but in the end, takes itself too seriously. It has a southern rock meets country feel and although jaunty, is never destined for classic status.

‘Teenage Queen’ is soft around the edges with a slightly west coast appeal. It’s typical of other songs Derringer released in this vein, but it’s still great listening, with beautiful vocals, subtle guitar work and nice orchestration to flesh out the sound. ‘Hold’ follows a similar pattern, again beautifully orchestrated, but the final product seems more polished, with a definite nod to the genius of Todd Rundgren. Definitely a contender for the album’s best track.

‘Uncomplicated’ is simple, stompy American rock, following a similar path to ‘Rock N Roll, Hoochie Koo’ and while ‘The Airport Giveth’ follows a similar formula to the Todd Rundgren inspired material, there’s something a bit less focused, giving it a slightly dated feel. Though somehow, possibly due to exposure to a fair amount of Rundgren, Carole King et al, I still quite like it. ‘Jump Jump Jump’ is pure genius, seeing Derringer explore a more spacious, bluesy style, though not up to the blues levels he’d go to after his early 80s sabbatical. For best results, check out the blistering live version of this from 1980’s ‘Face To Face’ LP.

The quirkiness of ‘Teenage Love Affair’ again goes for the same effect as ‘Uncomplicated’, but remains one of the rare times where this collection of songs misses the mark. ‘Time Warp’ is a driving instrumental clocking in at just under three minutes, though due to the intensity of the arrangement it feels longer. It sounds like the underscore for a car chase in a 70s cop film, merged with guitar riffs which tip the hat to ‘Heart Of The Sunrise’ by prog-rock behemoths Yes. ‘Slide on Over Slinky’ a pop-blues, the kind at which Derringer often excelled throughout the decade, is a welcome addition here.

‘All American Boy’ is a great solo debut, paving the way for other Derringer releases throughout the 1970s, most of which have something to recommend them. If you’ve enjoyed this and haven’t yet done so, check out 1980’s ‘Face To Face’: which although patchy, contains the aforementioned superb live take of ‘Jump Jump Jump’ and the wonderful pop of ‘Runaway’.

November 2007

DIO – Holy Diver

The name Ronnie James Dio will mean many things to his fans.  He was the first (and arguably best) frontman with Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow; he was the man who gave Black Sabbath an almighty kick up the arse when he replaced Ozzy Osbourne; he was one of the most recognisable voices in hard rock and heavy metal, but for all those fans, regardless of which band he happened to be fronting, Dio was the man who gave 100% every time.

Never was this attitude more obvious than on ‘Holy Diver’, released in May 1983.  Having left Black Sabbath following high tensions a few months previously, Dio was not about to take things laying down: his new eponymously named band – featuring his Black Sabbath mate Vinny Appice, Vivian Campbell and an old Rainbow bandmate, Jimmy Bain – rocked as hard (if not harder) than any outfit Dio had previously been associated with.

Stripped of the lengthy, pompous guitar solos which dominated early Rainbow, but retaining the heavy crunch of Sabbath, this debut by Dio (the band) turns things up a notch.  The opening number ‘Stand Up and Shout’ comes full throttle, embracing the energy of the then recent New Wave of British Heavy Metal – faster than anything Rainbow or Sabbath could muster even in their wildest dreams – and instantly commands attention.  Vivian Campell’s guitar work is fantastic and has a real edge; in many ways, his work throughout this album represents him at a career best, even though he was an eighteen year old not far into a long musical journey.  Of course, despite the sharp musical edges, it’s Dio who remains the true star – his huge soaring voice careening above the extremely tight band.  Always a master of knowing his vocal strengths, Dio accentuates lots of the two syllable words throughout the song, making excellent showmanship of “desire”, “fire” etcetera.  When his performance is combined with his on-form musicians, ‘Stand Up and Shout’ becomes a fantastic opener.

Things slow down to a menacing stomp for the title cut.  Viv Campbell’s guitar riff tips the hat to Ronnie’s tenure with Sabbath, yet his playing has the lighter tone which Tony Iommi’s approach often lacks.  Appice provides fantastic accompaniment on the drums, his pounding approach counterbalanced by some subtle hi-hat work.  The vocal performance brings out all the best elements in RJD’s performance – the stressed ‘ah’s are used to fantastic effect – and his delivery is so effortless, as a listener you’re totally sucked in by his enthusiasm and self-belief it’s easy to ignore the ridiculousness of many of the lyrics.   ‘Straight Through The Heart’ may not have as much energy as some of ‘Holy Diver’s more upbeat moments, but it has just as much power.  Driven by Appice’s solid drumming, Dio turns in a masterful performance with a suitable amount of gusto; Campbell’s guitar work here cannot pass without comment either: here he offers one of the album’s sludgiest riffs, replete with squealy horse noises (technical term).

‘Don’t Talk To Strangers’, another of the album’s undisputed high points begins gently before breaking into a classic hard rock riff; it’s Ronnie’s lyrics that give the track it’s long-lasting charm, though – full of paranoia, we are warned not to dance in darkness and that heaven and hell are closer together than you might think; Ronnie in turn plays the part “of master, of darkness, of pain”.  Vocally he’s at the top of his game, his delivery loaded with over-pronounced words, adding weight to the slightly sinister air.  Similarly, ‘Invisible’ has a very dark vibe; Ronnie’s lyrics are total flights of fancy here – a lesser vocalist would make it all sound more than a bit silly – but as always, his total dedication and faultless delivery mean it’s nothing short of superb.  Viv Campbell’s mid paced guitar riff stands as one of the album’s heaviest.  In short, it’s a timeless piece of leather bound metal – as heavy as the heaviest moments of Black Sabbath’s ‘Heaven and Hell’, but Campbell’s sharp guitar sound is far superior to Tony Iommi’s stylistic muddiness. (As great as ‘Heaven and Hell’ is, try playing it straight after ‘Holy Diver’, and the difference between the two guitarists’ styles is astounding.  ‘Heaven and Hell’ may be of the Sabs’ best albums, but it’s severely lacking in any real punch when compared to ‘Holy Diver’.)

‘Holy Diver’ also offers a couple of slightly lighter moments in ‘Gypsy’, ‘Caught In The Middle’ and ‘Rainbow In The Dark’.  The sound of ‘Rainbow In The Dark’ in particular looked forward to the stadium rock which dominated the 80’s.  Ronnie’s rudimentary keyboard work during the intro (and the sections which bridge the verses) ages the song a little and could be seen as the album’s only weak point.  Despite that, it remains an excellent chorus driven single.

‘Shame On The Night’ has a superbly menacing quality and  here it’s Jimmy Bain’s pulsing bass work which drives the piece, but yet again, no matter how punchy the arrangement, it’s Dio’s vocal prowess which remains its defining element.  His voice here is pushed to even more extremes, but at no point does he ever sound like it was a struggle.  Viv Campbell’s guitar work focuses largely around an intimidating riff (particularly evident during the track’s closing moments), and in all, this track presents the Dio band at their most outright angry.  It’s an effective closing statement – one which undoubtedly leaves the listeners wanting more.

‘Holy Diver’ is Dio’s greatest post-Rainbow release – it may even be the greatest release featuring Ronnie on vocals. It’s a genre classic; and for anyone who has ever heard it and subsequently fallen in love with it, the magic never fades.  The years may pass, but Ronnie James’s commanding performance retains every bit of its bombastic brilliance.  His vocal talent remains unsurpassed. A man loved by his many peers and fans, he will never be forgotten and ‘Holy Diver’ stands at the peak of his musical legacy.

(Ronnie James Dio  10.07.42 – 16.05.10)

May 2010

URIAH HEEP – Very ‘Eavy, Very ‘Umble

As the optimism of the late 60s crumbled, music became darker. In 1970, Deep Purple (Mark II) recorded their genre-shaping masterpiece ‘In Rock’ and, Black Sabbath, in their debut, gave the world something which would be seen as of the first truly heavy metal albums. That same year, Uriah Heep released their debut, ‘Very ‘Eavy…Very ‘Umble’, an album which often gets overlooked.

Heep fans hate that the band often gets referred to negatively as a poor man’s Deep Purple (especially given that Uriah Heep’s music drew from a broader palette than Purple’s as their respective careers wore on). Fact is though, Uriah Heep are always likely to be mentioned in the same breath as the Purps, purely based on the music contained within the grooves of ‘Very ‘Eavy…’ – some of the songs tread a similar path of blues and hard rock (with a smidgeon of prog) as the Deep Purple output from ‘In Rock’.

Before delving into the tracks on the record, it should be noted that ‘Very ‘Eavy…’ is a little bit of a mess, band line-up wise. The album features David Byron (vocals), Mick Box (guitar) and Paul Newton (bass) on all tracks. Keyboard player Ken Hensley lends his chops to most of the album, but a couple of songs were recorded prior to his appointment. Likewise, although Nigel Olsson is the best known drummer from the sessions, he only appears on two tracks – the majority of the drum work having been performed by Alex Napier. Put simply, Uriah Heep weren’t exactly a cohesive unit in 1970. Luckily, though, ‘Very ‘Eavy…’ contains some cracking tracks.

Opening the album is one of the band’s best known songs, ‘Gypsy’. This is one of the tracks which is largely responsible for the Purple comparison – combining, as it does, slabs of Hammond organ work with a monolithic guitar riff. ‘Dreammare’ takes a similar hard rock approach, but tempers it with psychedelic blues elements. Mick Box’s aggressive guitar work throughout is the tracks main focus, but lots of pompy harmony vocals (something of an early Heep trademark) help give the band an individual quality. A melodramatic cover of ‘Come Away Melinda’ (previously recorded by Judy Collins, Harry Belafonte and others) highlights a softer side to the band. David Byron’s aching (dare I say crooned?) vocal is complimented by sounds from a mellotron and a fantastic bass line.

‘Real Turned On’ remains an unremarkable rock number despite a decent riff and is probably the album’s weakest track. It achieves its goal, but up against the rest of the material there’s not much to make it stand out. The epic ‘Wake Up (Set Your Sights)’ is another moment where Deep Purple comparisons are almost unavoidable. The Hammond organ comes in waves and Mick Box’s guitar work occasionally slips into Ritchie Blackmore territory, while Byron’s powerful voice more than occasionally wanders into similar territory as classic Ian Gillan. There’s an element weaving in and out which is reminiscent of Deep Purple’s under-rated Mark I line-up too (actually, there are elements of ‘Come Away Melinda which share similar traits to Deep Purple’s fledgling pre-1970 line-up; interesting how people only lazily compare this album to Deep Purple Mark II’s work… It shares just as much in common with the Mark I stuff). It should never be considered second-rate compared to Purple though, no matter what line-up it most resembles. This album represents a band who bring enough of their own talents and flourishes to make it hold up beyond all the easy comparisons. The unmistakable Heep harmonies make well-timed appearances during ‘Wake Up (Set Your Sights)’, but it’s the track’s more subtle elements which make it a winner. Alex Napier’s hard rock drumming is full of jazz flourishes (his work here is excellent and you have to wonder why he did not want to stick with the band) and Paul Newton’s bass runs are not only complex, but beautifully played. Forget ‘Gypsy’ – it’s this track which really should be the album’s most treasured song.

Rolling Stone famously slated ‘Very ‘Eavy…Very ‘Umble’ upon release and they weren’t alone in their dislike of Uriah Heep. Granted, the album is unlikely to be part of the public consciousness in quite the same way as the early Zeppelin, Purple and Sabbath classics, but it’s a solid debut. Uriah Heep would go on to record more adventurous albums than some of the music found on ‘Very ‘Eavy…Very ‘Umble’ would suggest, but despite its stupid Dickens-referencing title, this first outing from Uriah Heep is a fine start to a long career.

February/April 2010