In 1989, I bought this album as soon as it came out, based on hype alone — never heard a note. Put it on, and felt immediately that this was a middle-of-the-road hard rock album with little of their own to bring to the genre. That didn’t stop me from becoming a big fan, of course. I haven’t played Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich in about a decade. I wonder what it sounds like today?
I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I think one of the reasons my love of Warrant didn’t last was Jani Lane. I’m sorry, Warrant fans. I don’t think Jani’s voice was anything special. He had an ability to deliver pop hooks, but he always seemed to live in the shadow of other singers who had more character to their voices. I mean no disrespect to Jani, but that is the way my ears have always heard it.
Things sure started on a great note. “32 Pennies” is just fun hard rock, with loads of hook and that glam rock riff that Motley Crue mastered a few years prior. Beau Hill’s production is bland but not bad. There is a vague Aerosmith vibe, crossed with Motley and Poison — 1989 in a nutshell (or should I say a Ragu jar?). “32 Pennies” is still good for rocking out to, and I have to admit that the guitar solos smoke. Similar is “Down Boys”, the first single and video. Even today, this is probably the catchiest thing Warrant have ever done. It’s pure nonsense, of course:
Where the down boys go? Go! Where the down boys go? Go-oh-oh-oh! Where the down boys go? Ya, I wanna go where the down boys go, baby!
“Big Talk” was a single too, and I had forgotten all about this one. It boasts some fun lite-Lizzy guitar harmonies and a great chorus. Count this as another good Warrant tune. None of these songs will challenge the listener in any way, but they have enough guitar and hooks to keep you engaged. But what happens when you throw a ballad into the mix?
Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich had two ballads, the first of which was the electric “Sometimes She Cries”. A solid chorus made this one a hit, although you’d be hard pressed to tell the difference between this and a Bon Jovi song. There are a few cheesy key changes and some absolutely ball-busting notes that Jani hits, and it’s all not too bad. Side one ended on a speedy rocker: “So Damn Pretty (Should Be Against the Law)”. It could be a Motley Crue outtake from Theater of Pain, but it’s not. Faceless, with turgid sounding drums, all it really had going for it is velocity. Fun, but derivative. The guitar solos are the best part.
The title track “D.R.F.S.R.” is pure crap. Lyrically, musically, and production-wise, this sucks. I really can’t believe how bad the drums sound. This was once considered acceptable! “In the Sticks” isn’t bad. It sounds vaguely like another song that I can’t quite think of right now. But that goes for the whole album! It’s still a very enjoyable song, with that late-80’s good time slow riding vibe. Cruisin’ with the windows down.
The big hit, the one everybody remembers today, was the acoustic ballad “Heaven”. It’s really hard to be objective about this song, because I used to be so into it, but it makes me cringe today! Let’s just move on.
“Ridin’ High” brings the thrills back. Sounding a heck of a lot like their future tourmates Poison, Warrant found the gas pedal again. The closing track “Cold Sweat” is much in the same vein. You gotta give Warrant credit for one thing, they wore their influences on their sleeves. The only problem was, it was the same bunch of bands that influenced every other band on the Sunset Strip in 1989. When you buy this Warrant album, you are at least getting what you think you’re getting.
Sony threw on two bonus tracks for this edition. Both are 1988 demos that failed to make the cut. Ironically, for demos, the drums actually sound better! They don’t sound like samples on these demos. “Only A Man”, an acoustic ballad, sounds entirely more sincere and classic than “Heaven” does. It’s harder edged and resembles Skid Row, who had yet to release their first album. “All Night Long” is a slow rocker, but it’s no better or worse than the rest of the album. Both songs could have been on the album originally had it not been limited to just 10 tracks.
Conclusion: What stood out in 1989 fades into the woodwork today.
Tesla came out of the gates with everything in its right place: a good label (Geffen), great producers (Thompson & Barbiero) and the best management you could ask for (Q Prime). The band were and are all top drawer musicians, and they had a batch of killer rootsy hard rock ready to record. Ready, set, go!
Tesla have never done anything wimpy. Whatever they do, they inject muscle into, even the ballads. “EZ Come EZ Go”, the opening salvo, is surprisingly tough for the era. Starting dark and ominous, it only takes a verse before it turns to scorch mode. Singer Jeff “JK” Keith proved his versatility immediately on this track. From whimpering tones to belting at the top of the lungs, JK did it with rasp and incredible lung power. Backing him are the underrated guitar duo of Frankie Hannon and Tommy Skeoch, a six-string tag team to rival the big boys.
“Cumin’ Atcha Live” starts with Van Halen-esque blitzing, except with two guitarists instead of one, fretboards ablaze. It takes almost a minute for the song itself to ignite! “I’m a mean machine, I’m the kind you don’t wanna meet,” warns Jeff, but I don’t believe him. Tesla were known as one of the “nice guy” bands of rock, in contrast to bad boys like Motley Crue. Troy Luccketta is a drummer with a recognizable style. You can hear it in the way he rides the cymbals. On bass, the bearded Brian Wheat, the backbone of the group. There is no let up, only a full-on rock assault.
The album generated quite a few single/videos, and “Gettin’ Better” was an easy selection. The mellow, ballady (but soulful) opening is just a feint. This turns into a good time rocker in no time. A message of positivity and perseverance is good on the ears, and it’s nice to hear a kick-ass but optimistic rock song that isn’t sung by Jon Bon Jovi. It gets heavier from here. “2 Late 4 Love” is not a Def Leppard song, nor Prince. It is however pure metal. Early Tesla seemed to be a bit more metallic in nature. With a Motley chug and a Dokken vibe, it’s not really representative of where Tesla was headed, but it’s good enough. “Rock Me To the Top” occupies a similar chug with high quality results. Finally, ending the first side is “We’re No Good Together” which actually has some soft, Cars-like synth in the background. This slow, bluesy number sure picks up at the ending. Jeff Keith really turned in an excellent lead vocal, especially for the slow, soulful parts. What a singer!
“Modern Day Cowboy” is one of Tesla’s trademark tunes today. There’s that cowboy motif, so popular in the 80’s that you’d think we all rode steel horses. Although it is now a Tesla classic, I actually don’t think it’s one of the better tunes on the album. It’s a fine, serviceable hard rocker, with edge, drama, acoustics and the works thrown in, but it doesn’t have the melodic sensibilities that most of the album has. The guitars sure do smoke.
Nothing wrong with a little piano in a rock ballad, is there? “Changes” is a great, heavy ballad with loads of guitars and tasteful keys too. I don’t even think I should be calling this a ballad. It burns rubber like there’s no tomorrow when it’s time for it.
Since this time, Tesla have become known for performing some amazing covers, both hits and obscure. “Little Suzi” is the first, and I’d never heard of the band Ph.D. of whom this is a cover. Even if I had, Tesla’s version of the song is diametrically opposed to the dramatic synthpop original, which was titled “Little Suzi’s on the Up”. Tesla do it as a folksy, bonfire acoustic/electric rocker complete with a pretty acoustic intro. It is instantly likeable. Bon Jovi once said “the way to tell if a song is good is to see if it works acoustically.” If that is true, then Tesla have proven this of “Little Suzi”.
Similarly upbeat and irresistible is “Love Me”, featuring a juicy talkbox solo by Tommy Skeoch. The song has a nice big riff and plenty of hooks to go around. Even though that’s 10 songs and plenty enough for an album, it ain’t over next. “Cover Queen” is a smoky rocker with ammunition to spare, but it is “Before My Eyes” that is the pièce de résistance. It’s risky to close an album with a slow, trippy long bomber (5:31, longest on the album). “Before My Eyes” is not an instant love, but over time it grows and grows. The psychedelic voices at the end can be heard to be saying “Is it a dream?” over and over, very trippy indeed!
What a debut, and as incredible as it is, some would say that the follow-up The Great Radio Controversy was even better.
KISS – “Don’t Touch My Ascot” (2015 Warner, from the movie Scooby-Doo! and KISS: Rock and Roll Mystery)
The lovely Mrs. LeBrain got me a surprise gift a few weeks ago for our anniversary. This is a blu-ray movie called Scooby-Doo! and KISS: Rock and Roll Mystery. I haven’t watched it yet…I will some day…but it was a thoughtful gift idea because I’m a collector. It features the voices of Paul, Gene, Eric and Tommy, and hey…that counts for something, right?
According to the back cover, the story takes place at KISS-World. Sharp minded fans will remember that in 1979, Gene Simmons wanted to do a travelling amusement part/rock concert called Kiss World. Then there’s something about a witch and alternate dimensions and something called The Destroyer. I think the bonus feature, a Kiss blooper reel, will probably be better than the feature, but we shall see.
The main thing I’m interested is the new original Kiss song “Don’t Touch My Ascot”, a reference to Fred’s neckware. Kiss’s producer Greg Collins co-wrote this for the movie, and all four Kiss members sing on it. “Don’t Touch My Ascot” is a cute, old-tyme acoustic number with barbershop-like vocals. Paul Stanley goes first, but his voice is a mere whisper. Gene Simmons’ lines are next, and he sings in an exaggerated nasal voice. Cute, because he doesn’t normally sing like that on record. Please note though, the guy can actually sing! Take off the nasal intonation and that would be a pretty impressive bit of singing! Eric Singer goes next with the bridge and another verse, in that rasp he does so well. Here he reminds me of David Lee Roth! (Think: “Big Bad Bill”.) After a brief acoustic solo, Tommy Thayer goes last. He has the blandest voice of the four, but since everybody is harmonizing behind him, it all works out OK.
There are two catches. 1) The song is only 1:13 long. 2) You can’t buy it anywhere. It’s only in the movie (and on youtube). There’s the rub. You can make an mp3 file from the youtube video, but the fidelity is pretty iffy.
A rating for a track like this is pretty meaningless, especially without the context of the movie, but whatever. It’s Kiss and I love Kiss.
This is a fascinating album. Sandbox (parsed as “sandbox.” on the album) had come out with a successful enough debut, but what we didn’t know then was how much ambition they had. For their second CD, they did what most bands usually wait to do, much later on: the dreaded concept album! It is such a gamble to go for a concept album at all, let alone on your second record.
Setting the scene is the title track, “A Murder in the Glee Club”; but is all what it appears to be? The liner notes state:
“Recorded as in introduction to a play in 1932 by Freddie Corn and the Ohioans, the song has sat dormant on a shelf for the past 65 years. Shortly after it was recorded, the production was cancelled and the song was never released or published. The version you hear on this record is the original recording, sonically enhanced and embellished using mordern technology.”
Hmmm.
An online search for “Freddie Corn and the Ohioans” reveals only one hit: an old interview with Mike Smith from the University of Western Ontario, which is only quoting the liner notes.
I always wondered if Sandbox were trying to pull the wool over our eyes a little bit with those liner notes. You can draw your own conclusions but “A Murder in the Glee Club” does lull you in to the concept of the album: Altered states of consciousness and mental illness eventually lead to murder. Then, the murderer becomes haunted by the crimes he has committed. That “1932 recording” really sets the mood right.
“…to red” is the first proper song on the album, and this is lyrically connected to the final track on Sandbox’s first album, Bionic. It’s immediately obvious that the production, this time by Don Fleming, is far superior. “…to red” is a vast improvement sound-wise over anything on the first album. Performance-wise too; the band no longer sound stiff. Singer Paul Murray seems less shy, and willing to stretch out his voice. “…to red” is a fantastic up-beat start, with enough twangy-crunchy guitars to compensate for the pure pop that is the melody. “I woke up with a different life, I was wondering where I’d been,” and the disoriented lead character is introduced. This track was written by the uber-talented Mike Smith. “Spin”, by Jason Archibald continues the story. “I can’t believe you ran, I can’t believe you wanted out.” When the character sings, “The Devil was my name,” then I get a bad feeling. The music is darker, but driving. The excellent guitar chops of Sandbox really make it enticing. They leave a lot of space between the instruments so you can really hear what is going on.
“Spin” fades softly into “The Garden Song”, and it is clear that something bad has happened. “They found you in the garden, arranged smile stained your face.” While the lyrics are poetic it’s difficult to pay attention to them, because of the imagery they evoke. The music is absolutely lovely, almost uplifting at times, but this has to be the darkest moment in the story. “The Spectre”, faster and loaded with tasty backwards guitar, begins to deal with the haunted thoughts of the killer. This is a duet with Mike Smith on second vocals. You can picture this guy wandering through some a cold field somewhere, arguing with himself. It’s an electrifying song, leading into the blitzkrieg of “Melt”. This is the heaviest song Sandbox have ever done, blasting with a heavy chunk-tastic riff. “Better stories, a better plan, this guy thinks he’s Superman, I think I’d like to smash his face with Kryptonite.” I love that line. There’s an intense feeling of anger.
Forwarding the story, “If I Tell” reveals regret, and delusions. The killer now wishes he could bring his victim back, but he certainly isn’t willing to confess. He justifies this by saying that he’s just protecting those whose lives would be impacted by his confession, perhaps family or friends. Jason Archibald plays what sounds like electric sitar recorded backwards. Then, “Self-Contained”, the best track on the album steps forth with a powerful, catchy riff. This was the first song to really jump out on first listen. “I hate the way I’m self-contained,” sings Paul Murray, wishing he could escape the insanity. But the really crazy thing is, even though we know what’s gone on before, taken individually anybody can relate to the lyrics. “I wanna feel the rush, of an electric song, I wanna be in love, it turns me on.” On first listen, you’re not going to follow the concept of the album completely. This song jumped out at me, and I always loved the lyrics, even though I hadn’t pieced it together with the rest of the album yet.
“Carry” was a the lead single/video, and an upbeat pop rocker it is. Guitar jangle and steady beats provide what you need for a hit, only it wasn’t. (For shame.) Perhaps it just wasn’t edgy enough for rock fans in 1997, I don’t know and I don’t understand why Sandbox were not absolutely huge. Jason Archibald’s “Missed the Day” is a beautiful, softer ballad. The guitar and vocal melodies are ace, but I also like listening to the drums of Troy Shanks. Brilliant song with its own hit potential, untapped and wasted.
I remember visiting the Calgary Zoo when I was younger. The most haunting image in my mind was a polar bear named Snowball who paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…endlessly. (Read more here.) When Snowball finally died, I am sure I was not the only Canadian who believed that he was probably better off. Watching that bear, having long ago gone insane in that tiny enclosure, pacing back and forth was one of the most difficult lessons Young Me had to learn about our relationship with nature. “Bear Bear” was not inspired by Snowball, but by a similar bear at the Metro Toronto Zoo. It fits into the concept of the album only metaphorically. Musically, it’s quite jagged and drony, in a strangely catchy way. This is a powerful song!
According to the liner notes, “How I Feel” was written by Mike Smith, and was lyrically inspired by seeing the Spice Girls on Saturday Night Live one night. He pulls no punches: “I’ve been watching all the sheeple of the world, Masses flocking to the mindless shit they’ve heard.” Musically, it’s brilliant and very 1960’s in vibe. The electric piano brings me back a few decades. On this song, the lead character simply cannot connect with people — he is baffled by their behaviour, their words and beliefs. And he resents them. “Will you even notice when I go? I’ll be leaving here when I say so.”
The final track for this dark concept album is “A Question of Faith”, with sparse echoey guitars and a plaintive melody. What you hear and what someone else hears may be two different endings altogether. You decide what it all means. The song is brilliant, and emotionally heavy. Yet it also feels like release. A great weight lifting. “A Question of Faith” is as well crafted as everything else on A Murder in the Glee Club.
I have said in the past, that if I had only bought this album in the year 1997, it would have made my top albums list (published in our store newsletter) that year. Alas, I did not get it until early in the new year. If I had got the CD in time, it definitely would have been on that list. It’s truly a shame, but this second CD proved to be Sandbox’s last album. Mike Smith had no problem finding fame elsewhere, as his career as Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys has certainly skyrocketed!
Because it was the 1990’s, and you had to do stuff like this, Sandbox referred to themselves as “sandbox.” with the period at the end. This being 2015, in this review we’re just going to call them Sandbox. Sandbox were very, very 1990’s with some melancholy music and an abstract album cover of an apple with nails in it. There is no reason for this that I can tell. It may well have just been, “Hey, let’s make this apple look like the guy from Hellraiser.”
Sandbox were from Nova Scotia, and have two really interesting connections. One, the lead singer Paul Murray is the nephew of Anne Murray, who made “Snowbird” a national treasure back in the 70’s. Two, the lead guitar player was a talented fellow named Mike Smith. Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last 10 years, then you know Mike Smith as his Trailer Park Boys alter-ego, Bubbles. I saw these guys opening for the Barenaked Ladies back in 1996 and was impressed by the six tunes they played.
The big hit was “Curious” and it’s still fantastic once you get past the trendy 90’s-isms. (By that I’m referring to the watery, distorted vocals, lack of a solo, and simple construction.) But damn, what a song. All the right parts are there. The guitar riff works its way into your brain effortlessly, and the band provide all the necessary backing. Paul Murray is not a singer of remarkable range or power, but his voice works with the music to create a a wave that washes over you. Mike Smith and the band are more than capable of providing melodic backing vocals.
The problem with the Bionic album was that it had a couple really strong, powerful songs and a lot that didn’t have the same impact. “Collide” is a good song, but it plods along without enough excitement. It doesn’t get you moving. I think a few of these tunes worked better live. The studio can be a stifling environment, and it took Sandbox an album to really grow in the studio. “For You” boasts a strong chorus hook, but again not enough spark.
“Decisions”, dark quiet and slow, boasts a great chorus and impassioned lead vocals. It is augmented by a nice cello part, which works so well for dark tracks such as this. “Decisions” is a standout on the album, with a big part of that being due to the cello. More songs on Bionic would have done well with some augmentation like that. “Grief” is similarly dark, but edgy. I dig the backwards guitar solo, a touch I have always loved in rock music. “Three Balloons and a Trapdoor” is the kind of song title I find annoying, but the cello is back. It’s a sparse little acoustic song without much else going on with it besides the cello. It sounds like a side closer, and that’s the exact position it occupies on the CD running order. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
“Here and There” is the first song that rocks in a while, and it’s very welcome. It could have used more hooks, but it gets the job done well enough. It takes advantage of the jangling guitar chords of Mike Smith and Jason Archibald. Then, “Live” is a fantastic song. Where sometimes, Sandbox’s songs seem to lack sufficient passion and memorable melody, “Live” completely delivers. I feel the sadness, and I can swim in the melodic vocals like a river. “Flux” and “Weatherman” are both OK. “Flux” has a nice hard beat and a chorus I can get into. “Weatherman” is sparse, acoustic and intimate.
The last amazing tune, on a par with “Curious”, is the incredible “Lustre”. A simple guitar lick coupled with another killer chorus is all it takes. A classy acoustic guitar solo just makes it all so perfect. It’s hard to describe just what makes the song click, but it has clicked with me for almost 20 years, so there must be something good going on here.
The final track is the slow and dull “And the Mood Changes…”, followed by silence and then a strange distorted spoken word bit that always struck me as another 90’s gimmick. I was wrong, it is actually the first part of the second Sandbox album, which was a concept album called a murder in the glee club. This spoken word bit is meant to lead directly into the beginning of that album, a story of a killer who is tormented by what he has done. And speaking of that second album, what an album it was! Sandbox obviously benefited from the studio experience on Bionic, because what they achieved on a murder in the glee club was something quite special and fantastic. But that’s another review.
ALICE COOPER / HOLLYWOOD VAMPIRES – Hollywood Vampires(2015 Universal Japan)
Ignore the hype. The press has been going ga-ga over this new supergroup featuring movie star Johnny Depp (rhythm guitar), Joe Perry (lead guitar), and Alice Cooper (lead vocals). Just ignore the hype completely. Cooper fans know what this is. This is the covers album that Alice has been talking about doing ever since Welcome 2 My Nightmare in 2011. Alice has even been playing a number of these tunes, in these arrangements, live. Check out his Raise the Dead double live album/video for a few.
According to an interview with Ultimate Classic Rock earlier this year, “I can’t tell you who’s on what right now, ’cause it’s not gonna be released yet, but it’s the ‘who’s who’ of everything. It was one of those things where, at one point, I’m looking around in the studio and I’m going, ‘Holy crap! Look who’s in the studio.” Bob Ezrin, Alice’s long-time producer and musical collaborator came up with the concept. Alice continues: “Bob came up with the idea, ‘Let’s concentrate it on all the guys that you drank with in L.A., the Hollywood Vampires, the ones that are all dead.’ I like the title All My Dead Drunk Friends. It’s just offensive enough to work, but all those guys would have totally got it. They had the same sense of humor. If you told them you were going to do an album after they were gone called All My Dead Drunk Friends, they would have died laughing.” Ultimately the album was simply called Hollywood Vampires. That’s also the name of this “supergroup” which is essentially just Alice with Depp and guests.
I have this album filed in my Alice Cooper section, and that’s how I’m treating this review.
Hollywood Vampires consists of 14 tracks, except in Japan who have 15. Two of these are brand-new songs, and one is an intro called “The Last Vampire”. Fittingly, this features the narration of Sir Christopher Lee, who passed away earlier this year. Lee’s old friend from the Hammer horror days, Vincent Price, appeared on Cooper’s original Welcome to my Nightmare in 1975. Today, Alice Cooper truly is the last vampire left from those old days. Lee’s rich voice is backed by spooky keys and theremin by Ezrin, Depp and engineer Justin Cortelyou. “Listen to them, children of the night…what music they make.”
Alice then kicks it with “Raise the Dead”. Depp appears on every track, and Alice’s drummer Glen Sobol plays on this one and several others. It’s an upbeat stomper of a track, and a perfect introduction to this covers album that is also a concept album. The first of Alice’s dead drunk friends to be covered is Keith Moon on “My Generation”, an authentic and pounding version. Alice Cooper is one of the few that does justice to it. Bassist Bruce Witkin perfectly tackles John Entwistle’s signature bass solo. One thing that is immediately obvious is how massive this album sounds. Ezrin wrought a monster-sounding disc, so full and heavy, but textured when required.
John Bonham is up next. “Whole Lotta Love” was handled in a completely different way than you’d expect. Starting as a low, prowling Cooper blues it soon blasts into gear. Alice isn’t known for hitting those high Plant notes, so who joins him? None other than Brian Johnson of AC/DC, who kicks my ass completely. Joe Walsh and Cooper’s former lead guitarist Orianthi play some jaw droppingly greasy guitars, but Alice’s harmonica work is also worthy of praise! Even though very few can cover Led Zeppelin, “Whole Lotta Love” turned out to be my favourite track. It’s also the heaviest sounding, like a skid of concrete blocks assaulting your face! That’s Zak Starkey (son of Ringo) on drums.
Cooper has covered “I Got a Line on You” (Spirit) before, on the soundtrack to Iron Eagle 3, of all things. That 1988 take is my preferred version, but Alice remade it on Hollywood Vampires. Abe Laboriel Jr., Joe Walsh, and Alice’s old bassist Kip Winger join as guests. Perry Farrell of Jane’s Addiction helps Alice out on the lead vocals, but his part isn’t prominent. Then it’s time for the Doors, and a medley of “Five to One” and “Break on Through”. Alice had been playing “Break on Through” live, but this version has Robby Krieger! Alice heavies both of them up, but he is also one of the few singers who can do Morrison.
Farrell and Krieger return for a Harry Nilsson medley, joined by David E. Grohl on drums. “One” is rendered as a haunting, creepy piece as if Alice himself wrote it. This merges into “Jump Into the Fire”, a strangely upbeat companion which rocks in a vintage 70’s fashion. It’s like guitar nirvana. There’s also a cute outro of “Coconut”, also by Nilsson.
Sir Paul himself, rock royalty if there ever was one, shows up for Badfinger’s “Come and Get It”, which Paul wrote. Joe Perry has spoken about how incredible it was when McCartney showed up in the studio with his Hofner bass, and actually allowed them to hold it! “Come and Get It” is simple rock/pop, not the kind of timeless thing that happened when Paul wrote with John, but certainly a notch above what mere mortals can write. I love hearing Paul’s “screaming” voice, and I’m sure everybody in the studio had a great time. Sure sounds that way.
Marc Bolan’s “Jeepster” is one I could pass on. Alice makes it sound like an original from 1972’s School’s Out, but if you’re only going to skip one song, it’s probably going to be “Jeepster”. Lennon’s “Cold Turkey” featuring Joe Perry has more kick and grind to it, and it’s always a pleasure to hear Joe Perry do some Aero-jammin’ on lead guitar. (I think it would have been amazing to get McCartney to play bass on this Lennon classic — shame nobody thought of it. That could have been history made.)
The Japanese bonus track is “I’m A Boy”, the second Who cover. Once again, Alice nails it. This is such a difficult song to attempt. Alice makes it work, and if anybody can do it, it’s Alice. “My name is Alice I’m a head-case…” Just that one change makes the song work. “I’m a boy, I’m a boy, but my mom won’t admit it…I’m a boy, but if I say I am, I get it.” And he’s got the girl’s name. It’s perfect! This bonus track is worth tracking down if you’re a Cooper fan. You’ll definitely need it in your collection.
Jimi Hendrix was a Hollywood Vampire, and “Manic Depression” is the song Alice chose to cover. (He’d already done “Fire” back in the Hey Stoopid days.) Like “Jeepster”, this is one that could be skipped. Joe Walsh fans will enjoy his lead guitar work, but otherwise, it’s a stock cover. Way, way better is “Itchycoo Park”. Alice’s treatment of the Small Faces is far more entertaining, and its melodic base continue to deliver the hooks.
Brian Johnson returns to belt it out on the “School’s Out”/”Another Brick in the Wall Part 2” medley. This arrangement is similar to the way Alice did it live, and it’s cool how the two songs work together perfectly. It’s a genius mashup. Guests include Slash, and original Cooper band members Dennis Dunaway and Neal Smith. “School’s Out”, of course, is here for Glen Buxton, of the original Alice Cooper band. Buxton had suffered the consequences of alcohol abuse, and dropped out of music completely when the original band split in ’74. Buxton died in 1997.
The final song is an original, “My Dead Drunk Friends,” the song that Alice wanted to use as a title track. If you don’t mind some black comedy, you will love this tribute to all the lost Hollywood Vampires. It’s irresistible, and also sounds vintage Alice. So chants the crowd: “We drink and we fight and we fight and we puke and we puke and we fight and we drink!” Doesn’t sound particularly glamorous, but Alice isn’t about to have a mournful wake. Alice is about entertainment, and even though a brilliant artist who drinks themselves to death is sad, Alice has thrown a party for them instead. “My Dead Drunk Friends” ends the party on a darkly celebrating note, as only he can. Job well done.
Hollywood Vampires is pleasantly surprising. 9/10 covers albums are not worth the money you paid for them. Alice’s is. They call it a supergroup for marketing purposes but it only takes one listen to know what this is. This is a project that Alice, Bob Ezrin and friends have been passionate about for years, and has finally been finished. It is an apt follow-up to Welcome 2 My Nightmare, and another killer concept album from the kings of concept albums.
CREED – My Own Prison (1997 Wind-Up, originally Blue Collar)
Have you ever gotten flak for an artist or genre of music that you enjoy? Not a whole lot of fun, is it? Try to imagine that negative opinion not just as common, but as something resembling the general consensus. One that not only discounts anyone that disagrees, but actively mocks and ridicules them. Ask anyone you meet on the street: who are the “worst” musical artists of all time? Chances are, one particular scapegoat of late-90s’ rock will come up… To say that Creed is a controversial band is putting it lightly. Perhaps no group in the history of rock and roll has been a casualty of its own fame quite the same way the band composed of vocalist Scott Stapp, guitarist Mark Tremonti, drummer Scott Phillips and bassist Brian Marshall have. While the amount of fans often rivalled the number of critics in their heyday, as of 2015 the predominant word is negative. Whether it be from fans moving on or the band’s hiatus keeping them from speaking up for themselves, anything positive is rare. Case in point: Scott Stapp’s recent mental breakdown in December featured the most press coverage the frontman has had to endure since the turn of the millennium. EVERYBODY had something to say about it, oftentimes hateful. What of him now? He’s pulled himself back together and aside from his own personal PR, only one or two websites actually reported the news. I’m sure more than a few readers of this review will think he’s still whacked out on drugs, despite spending the last five months at home with his family.
Unfortunately, Creed’s status as something of a pariah maintains that I can’t just hop into the music and give you my personal take. If I were to do so, I’d likely have more than a few commenters simply reiterating age-old hate for the band or questioning the validity of my perspective because I’m not slinging feces. So let’s get to it: perhaps the most common strike against Creed is the idea that they’re heavily derivative of Pearl Jam. Um… have you ever listened to either of these bands? Generally speaking, Pearl Jam is angry garage rock with guitars that bite but don’t shred, and songs that are intended to coast primarily on the emotion conveyed in Eddie Vedder’s vocals and lyrics. Creed is arena rock with soaring pop hooks and beefy guitar riffs. Forgive me if I don’t find those two approaches to be all that similar. Not to mention the fact that Creed rarely ever treads the political ground that Pearl Jam does, and that the perspective of Pearl Jam’s material is often outward, with the Creed being much more introspective. To put it simply, Pearl Jam’s songs are often “you, you, you” while Creed’s are “me, me, me.” If you consider such a point-of-view as pretentious I understand, but I’d rather have someone pointing a finger at themselves than me or a hypothetical “them.”
Of course, this comparison between the bands primarily stemmed from the similarities in Vedder and Stapp’s vocal styles, specifically their employment of what’s known as “yarling” (which involves putting an ‘R’ sound behind enunciations). I’m not going to try and convince anyone that the two frontmen don’t sound similar, but there are important differences that even a cursory listen will highlight: Vedder has more range and is much more likely to yelp, with his voice cracking as he gets higher and more intense. Stapp has a richer timbre but over-pronounces his words in a somewhat silly manner that has become common fodder for haters that fancy themselves comedians. I understand the comparison, but postulating that Stapp “copied” Vedder isn’t wholly substantiated. Claiming that he sounds exactly like Vedder and applying that comparison to the whole band is outright lunacy. This didn’t make any sense to me when I only knew either band from their radio hits; having actually dug into each band’s body of work in subsequent years, it now strikes me as pure propaganda. The fact that the Pearl Jam comparison is blanketed over pretty much EVERY band of the so-called “post-grunge” era just confirms that suspicion.
The next common (and even more ridiculous) complaint is that Creed is somehow Christian rock. Come again? Creed isn’t Christian rock anymore than AC/DC is Satanist metal. Talking about God in a song does not make it religious in and of itself; Christian music involves God as the subject nine times out of ten, with some sort of message of hope through Him conveyed therein. With Creed, God is only ever mentioned as being there; Stapp’s lyrics allude to the Divine in the same way a person might speak of gravity. He’s not trying to convert or otherwise convince anyone of his religious convictions, he’s simply stating them as one might a fact of life. If you dislike this quality that’s fine but it doesn’t make Creed Christian music, even if some of the members are open about their religious convictions.
Even then, to properly interpret these allusions, one must also have some understanding of Stapp’s upbringing. He, like many youngsters, was born into a religious home. He had little interaction with his real father, and his mother remarried when he was still a kid. His stepfather Steven Stapp (from whom Scott took his last name) was a dentist by trade, but a zealot in practice. He made Scott study the Bible for several hours each day and conclude his time by writing essays about what he learned from the passages he perused (Scott later came to find that Steven was using his essays for Sunday school lessons). Think that’s bad? It’s not even the worst of it: whenever Scott messed up, he was physically beaten by Steven. As in abused. Steven also set a specific time each week that Scott was to be thrashed for sins that his stepfather “knew he committed but didn’t see.” Scott was also punished whenever Steven caught him listening to rock and roll, because it’s “the devil’s music.” To top it off, the doctrine advocated was of an unforgiving God that would damn a soul to Hell for the slightest trespass, lest they live a perfect life.
So why am I telling you all of this? Because personal experience naturally informs art, and if you were brought up in a household like this, chances are you’d address those feelings through song as well. It’s all in HOW one addresses these topics that informs the atmosphere. Scott didn’t write lyrics that concerned themselves with theology because he wanted listeners to believe it, he wrote them because HE didn’t know what to believe about the God he had shoved down his throat by his stepfather. It’s a fair assessment to assume that his childhood had a massive effect on his personality, not to mention the disparate reactions to the Creed’s music. It’s a wonder Stapp didn’t have a meltdown before 2014. Of the common complaints about this band, I consider the Pearl Jam point open for debate. Do the bands sound alike? To a degree; both play dour hard rock. There’s only so much variation one can attain within that template, after all. The Christian rock charge, however, is simply untrue. Overall, as far as I’m concerned, both of these sleights were coined not because of their accuracy, but moreso to knock the band off of their perch when they got huge. With the passing of time, these legends have become fact, and the legend is being printed. (As a final point, it behooves me to point out that the band was originally to be called Naked Toddler until Brian Marshall suggested the name be changed to Creed).
Finally, you have the general complaint of the era to contend with: Creed is most often resigned to the “post-grunge” monicker. I don’t care who you are or what you think about grunge, designating a bunch of later artists with a “post-” label when they make pretty much the exact same type of music as their forbears is ridiculous. Does that make Poison and Guns N’ Roses “post-hair metal” since they appeared relatively late in that particular cycle? I get that the so-called post-grunge bands are considered much less authentic than their precedents, but the problem with that line of thinking is that grunge didn’t really invent anything, nor were they all that “original.” Sure, grunge killed hair metal, but there’s a distinct difference between killing and conceiving. The faces of the sub-genre, Nirvana and Pearl Jam, are watered down punk with a hard rock flair. Think AC/DC is simplistic? Nirvana rocks three chord riffs like there’s no tomorrow. That “yarl” that is so often attributed to Eddie Vedder? He wasn’t even the first from the scene to use it, much less music at large. Layne Staley of Alice In Chains holds that dubious distinction for the grunge crowd. As far as the style’s far-reaching beginnings, Ray Charles, George Jones and Jim Morrison of the Doors all sung with such an affectation before Eddie Vedder was ever a glint in his father’s eye. Nevermind the fact that Stapp often cites Morrison as perhaps his most formative influence, along with Def Leppard and U2 (or that Scott honed his singing skills in black churches, whose members would frequently goad him to use “soul” as he sung (read: yarling)).
There are a variety of other diatribes against Creed, such as the band taking itself too seriously (didn’t Nirvana, Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, among others?), that Scott Stapp was an arrogant ass (John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Axl Rose?) and that the band was too commercialized…sigh. This accusation has to be the MOST fragile of the stones thrown at these guys. Just because a song or album is mainstream does not in and of itself guarantee any sort of quality, good or bad. Anyone that attempts to postulate otherwise is too far up their own ass to give any other line of thought consideration. Sure, rock and roll has always had rebellion in its blood, so I can understand that the idea of a rock band NOT pushing such an image as odd. But let’s not forget that the most respected band of all time, the Beatles, was also the most commercial.
There’s also the charge that the band simply blended in with most of the other like-minded superstars of the time, with LeBrain’s popular line being to colloquially refer to them all as Theory of a NickelCreed. Maybe so, but if the band was so “generic” why are they singled out as one of the “worst of all time”? Just because they got big? And the only way to fight it was to backpedal 110% the other way? Politics, politics, politics… and that’s not even the worst of it. By far the most immature response to this band over the years has not been so much in terms of their output, but the fact that a disturbing amount of haters act like no one else has a damned right to enjoy this band. As if Creed deserves to be burned at the stake and obliterated from the public record along with anyone that admits to being a fan. If hold anything but contempt for them you’ve obviously been living under a rock and haven’t experienced the “good stuff” yet. Are you kidding me? Yeah, and Creed fans are the stupid ones.
Preamble over. Can we move on to the actual music now? That’s what we’re here to discuss, but my pen is pre-ordained to at least address these concerns beforehand, lest I be case out of the “elite” musical regime (which will probably happen anyway since, you know, my argument about Creed consists of more than the age old operandi “they suck because they suck.” Even now I feel readers skipping past my prose to the comments section to light their torches and take my ass to task for my “transgressions”).
Released in 1997 and selling over six million copies in the United States alone by 2002, My Own Prison heralded the arrival of Creed. According to a decent amount of the more casual fans and even some critics, this is their best album, and one after which many jumped ship in indignation. Why? Because of the first three records from the band, this one is decidedly the least commercial. The songs mostly just crunch and end, leaving the listener to sort out the details. Few are trying to be populist anthems. It’s not my favorite Creed album, but I can see why it’s a popular choice. The album weaves through mostly introspective stories of faith and loss, with slight forays into light political fair on “In America.” Overall, this is a moodier and less bombastic affair than the band’s subsequent albums.
Tremonti’s lead guitar ordains the album opener “Torn” with melancholy, and Stapp’s vocals maintain the atmosphere. “Peace is what they tell me/love, am I unholy?/Lies are what they tell me/Despise you that control me” he sings. The guitars crash in in full force on the word lies, underscoring the inherent evil of the practice. “The peace is dead in my soul/I have blamed the reason for/My intentions poor” goes the chorus. I love the atmosphere and passive, rather than assertive, anger conveyed with the lyrics and instrumental. Say what you will about this band but they know how to start an album (perhaps not coincidentally, “Torn” along with followup album Human Clay’s opening track “Are You Ready?” are my two favorite songs from this band).
Next comes “Ode”, a quintessential tune about being mistreated by others. Scott hints at his past here: “One step on your own/And you walk all over me/One head in the clouds/You won’t let go you’re too proud.” This track is a weaker standout, but still pretty good. The title track follows at number three. Perhaps I’m biased, but I consider the song “My Own Prison” to be a classic of ‘90s rock. The one feat Creed is rarely credited for is their knack for catchy and memorable hooks. There’s a reason they were so popular, and forgive me if I don’t think they’ve sold 40 million albums just because the general populace has “terrible taste.” Stapp is often cited for being too earnest with his lyrics and lacking subtlety; well, as far as I’m concerned life isn’t subtle, and he captures that aspect well. I consider the lyrics of “My Own Prison” to be pure poetry: “So I held my head up high/Hiding hate that burns inside/Which only fuels their selfish pride/We’re all held captive/Out from the sun/A sun that shines on only some/We the meek are all in one.” I’d be entertained just reading this stuff; can’t really say the same for “Lithium” or “Even Flow.” As a song, Tremonti and Marshall’s haunting guitar work and Phillips’ dejected drumming elevate the experience to another level.
The album hits something of a snag with the next few tracks in that none of them really stand out from one another (hey, I can make the case that this band is highly underrated but I never implied they were perfect; no artist is). “Pity for a Dime” is your typical “no one cares about me” song that never really distinguishes itself. The atmosphere of the album bolsters this track along with the other weak links, but otherwise it’s one that you skip when going for the meat. The melody is decent, but the point of the lyrics is quickly lost in their redundancy. Even then, the guitar work starting at 3:50 is a real treat and a standout of Tremonti’s contributions.
“In America” is caught in the same net as “Pity for a Dime”, essentially reprising the same theme. However, the twist is that Stapp is noting other opinions rather than his own. I’ve often felt the perspective that Stapp’s lyrics convey to be a hint of subtle genius; he’s merely playing the part of observer, not necessarily “judge” of the politics he addresses. While I think he’s overlooked as a lyricist, Stapp makes a crucial mistake in his treatment of the central conceit: the hook plays as “ONLY in America.” Even as someone that actively avoids politics and the news, I know that very few (if any) of the social issues brought up in this song occur solely in Uncle Sam’s domain. Even if the premise is flawed, the theme of being torn between two extremes is powerful. That military-esque drum beat at the beginning is a nice touch as well.
Two of the more intense tracks from My Own Prison are “Illusion” and “Unforgiven.” The former’s dissident fascination with the nature of life is engrossing. While I wouldn’t call it a standout, it’s also hard to dismiss. If anything, the song helps maintain the atmosphere and momentum, even if you probably won’t catch yourself reaching for this album solely to hear it. However, if you’re just letting the album play it certainly adds to the experience. As for “Unforgiven”, remember Scott’s stepfather and his violently fundamentalist ideas about God? Well, the title should speak for itself. Stapp bluntly speaks of his childhood and feelings about that time in his life. The music is appropriately menacing on this track and it’s a popular live song for the band despite not being released as a single. Tremonti’s guitar solo is especially striking, no doubt a major part of the song’s popularity.
“Sister” is next, perhaps my least favorite track from Creed’s debut. Interestingly, it maintains the theme of “Unforgiven”, with the focus shifted onto a sibling of Scott’s that endured similar treatment as he did. It’s still perhaps the weakest track, but I like the continuity and pondering of the idea of his younger sisters having not one role model as he did, but two (counting Scott himself). Who says Creed have no artistic merit? The instrumental and overall atmosphere of the song are much lighter than previous tracks, perhaps underscoring the love one feels for their immediate family.
The ninth slot is filled by a song called “What’s This Life For,” one of the four monster singles from this album. This is another favorite of fans, myself included. I appreciate the passion in this track and the yearning for answers. Call me a sap, but haven’t we all wondered this exact thing at SOME point in our lives? Sure, it’s not exactly profound nor does the song really offer anything resembling a solution, but I like it. Shoot me. (Side note: some assessments of the song I’ve read cite the “don’t have to settle no Goddamn score” part as eliciting giggles. Am I alone in wondering just what might be funny about that part? Just because Scott says “Goddamn”? Note that this word is omitted from the single version; it was 1997 after all).
I like to think the entire album is summed up with the final track “One.” Stapp reprises that poetic quality from before: “Society blinded by color/why hold down one to raise another” he sings. Relevant in 2015, don’t you think? “One, oh one/the only way is one” he imparts on the chorus, backed up by another bright riff from Tremonti. The song goes on to note the aforementioned prison the narrator finds himself in, as well as the desire to escape and the likelihood of it happening. To be honest, songs like this remind me much more of U2 than Pearl Jam, with that “save the world” vibe coming in full force. As such, the song falls prey to some of the same problems that ilk does by sweeping the more intricate complications of these social issues under the rug, but it’s hard not to appreciate the intent behind the song. I especially like the “flying” effect at 3:16, where the sound circles between speakers, as if to “unite” them once the song kicks back in, just as the band wishes for the world to be united.
Well, if you’ve read this far, I trust that I have your full attention and that you’ve been at least slightly entertained by my ramblings. A little known fact about this album is that two different versions exist. Recorded for a meager $6,000, My Own Prison was originally published through Blue Collar Records, a label founded by Creed to get their music out. The band received some airplay with this version in their native Florida before attracting the attention of major labels. An exact figure of their pre-fame sales is hard to find, but My Own Prison is quoted as shifting several thousand units before it was bought and reissued by Wind-Up records. Creed were then called back in to re-record parts of the album, while the rest was remixed to make for a more polished listening experience. I picked up one of the original copies on eBay a few years ago for about $50. Back in the day, these things were known to go for a few hundred. So how do the tracks compare?
Well, the first thing you notice is the lack of dynamic range. Sure, Creed’s albums have always been among the numerous victims of the loudness wars, in that they’re mixed to blow your head off with sheer noise. However, believe it or not, the dynamics seem more stylized on the Wind-Up version when compared to the original. The opening seconds are a perfect example of this: whereas the first strains of “Torn” are a bit quieter before the song crescendos in the re-release, the original is pretty much the same volume throughout. This goes for all of the tracks to some degree, with certain parts louder and softer given the version. On a related note, the bass is non-existent on the original version, similar to how it was missing from Metallica’s …And Justice For All. The remix brings it out a bit more, though ultimately the lead guitar and vocals mostly overpower the other parts.
The re-recorded material mostly amounts to some vocals. On certain song choruses of the “official” version, Stapp and Tremonti can frequently be heard singing in multiple keys at the same time. Here, it’s mostly just one at a time. It sounds to me like an additional acoustic part was added to “In America” as well. Reverb was also applied to the remix, which I feel adds to the overall atmosphere of the recordings. Some songs also start at different points, with the odd note or two being cut off, as with “My Own Prison.” The biggest and most noticeable change is the omission of the original intro to “What’s This Life For”, a quiet little melody that appears nowhere else in the song. Tremonti is known to play it at concerts when performing, but it’s completely missing from the Wind-Up version.
Overall, if you resent the commercial tendencies of Creed, you might do well to seek out the original mix of this album. This is the band at their rawest. However, I wouldn’t recommend a purchase unless you’re actually a fan as prices are frequently steep and the remix isn’t THAT different when all is said and done. I have one because I’m a collector and completist, as well as a curious listener. I also have an inkling that as this album nears its 20th anniversary, we might see something of a special edition that features both mixes on separate discs (the perfect gimmick). Not that I urge you to wait for a hypothetical re-release, but it’s a thought. Wind-Up released a vinyl compilation celebrating the label’s 15th anniversary in 2013, with the original version of “What’s This Life For” featured. They obviously have access to the masters and might put it to use at some point. All in all, the rawer mixes can readily be found on YouTube if you are so inclined to seek them out but don’t want to pay collector prices for an original copy.
For those interested, there’s also a bonus track version of the Wind-Up issue featuring an 11th song by the name of “Bound & Tied.” The bonus track version was available in Central America and Europe, though it might be a little harder to find these days. For U.S. listeners, the song was made available via the soundtrack to the 1998 film Dead Man on Campus. If you can get your hands on the bonus track version of My Own Prison for a reasonable price, I’d say go for it. “Bound & Tied” is a forgotten gem from Creed, with an intriguing into in which each instrument comes in at a different point, gradually intensifying the sound. I especially like the vocal effects, as well as the menacing guitar riff from Tremonti. The lyrics are also much more ominous than most Creed songs: “Tongue-tied, restless and wanting/Looks like you might bite, you might bite/Breathin’ in, breathin’ out, you’re weakened/The poisons hit your mind, your mind/Time’s ticking and it’s got you thinking/You’re happy with your life.” The band seems to be commenting on the double-edged sword that is fame; you seek it, yet can’t escape it once it’s attained.
In conclusion, if you actually made it this far (scanning or skipping doesn’t count!), my final verdict is that this album is solid. Classic? Perhaps at times, but it’s not anything resembling horrible, either. If your standards are so lofty that a slightly generic album of solid hard rock is your idea of “horrible” music, I envy your musical taste. Here’s hoping that My Own Prison and Creed as a whole are subject to a re-evaluation of sorts at some point in the future. If you can listen past your gut reaction to the name and pay attention to the music, you’ll probably find something to like.
Rating: 3.5/5
Thanks for reading, guys! Thank you, Mike, for the opportunity to do this! LeBrain has given me the option to review Creed’s discography, so if you want more let us know in the comments! (P.S. I take no responsibility for the band’s music videos. They’re atrociously dated and corny, at least for the next two albums, and if your only exposure to Creed is of the visual kind I don’t blame you for thinking they’re garbage.)
No sir, thank you Mr. Acca Dacca for a very thought-provoking review! I really appreciate the time and effort he put into this monster of a review. I have definitely opened my ears to this band. – LeBrain
AC/DC – Blow Up Your Video(1988, 2003 Epic remaster)
By 1988, AC/DC had abandoned the bare-bones live-style music videos they had been doing for the last few years, and went into full-on productions. That became AC/DC’s trademark style from that point forward: the band playing in front of an eager crowd, and crazy stuff going on around them. Explosions, lights, wrecking balls or what have you — this all became part of the AC/DC music video experience, with Angus stomping around front and center. “Who Made Who” was really the first of the big AC/DC videos of this style. “Heatseeker” continued the tradition, with Angus popping out of a missile!
“Heatseeker” was an explosive first single, but unexpectedly, it was not really representative of Blow Up Your Video as an album. The highschool halls were filled with mutterings that the new AC/DC was “not as good” as past AC/DC, and that was troubling. Blow Up Your Video proved to be a transitional album, as many changes were afoot for AC/DC.
Malcolm Young had hit rock bottom, in the depths of a drinking problem that was starting to take its toll on the band on the concert stage. He was unable to tour. Angus and Malcolm’s nephew Stevie Young stepped up, and helped the boys out on tour. (Nobody would ever imagine that Stevie would have to do it permanently in 2014 when Malcolm withdrew from the band due to dementia.) Drummer Simon Wright wouldn’t last either. After the tour, he left to join Dio. It was also the last album to which Brian Johnson wrote any lyrics.
On the other hand, the chemistry with producers Harry Vanda and George Young (an older brother) had never been better. They helmed the classic AC/DC albums with Bon Scott, as well as three more recent songs on 1986’s Who Made Who. It was thought that they would bring that old time rock and roll slant back to AC/DC, so they were retained for Blow Up Your Video.
“Heatseeker”, being so upbeat and catchy with just a hint of a jangle in the guitars, was certainly promising. Like a one-two punch, the second single “That’s the Way I Wanna Rock N Roll” is next. The production holds it back, lacking punch (especially on the drums), but it’s a killer AC/DC good time rock and roller. Weak sonics aside, few AC/DC albums begin with two big winners like this right from the get-go.
Things get funky from there. “Meanstreak” does have a bit of funk to it, but suffers again from a muddy sound and too much echo on the vocals and drums. The further one delves into Blow Up Your Video, it seems like the songs aren’t so bad, just the sound. Same with “Go Zone”. There’s nothing wrong with the tune, but it seems to drag and fumble in a muddy puddle with the tires spinning. The side one closer “Kissin’ Dynamite” has a smoky prowling guitar and so sounds more at home. At least the side is salvaged by this last tune.
Since AC/DC offloaded their two singles right off the bat on side one, the second side is a much more turgid affair. “Nick of Time” has a blasts of guitars exactly where you want them, but lacks hooks. “Some Sin For Nuthin'” is better, because it’s back to that menacing dusky prowl that AC/DC do so well. Finally, AC/DC hit all the buttons with “Ruff Stuff”, a mid-tempo rocker with an actual chorus and verses that you can remember! “Two’s Up” is of similar quality, another decent album rocker good enough for rock and roll.
Finally, “This Means War” ends the album on a frantic, unfocused note. It has the energy and fire lacking on earlier songs, but has nothing else. Simon Wright is perfectly behind the beat, and Angus’ fingers sure are flying…but is that enough? For AC/DC, it is not.
The album sold a measly million copies in the US and failed to crack the top ten. Needing to do better, Bruce Fairbairn was called upon when needed for The Razors Edge. Since then, Blow Up Your Video has remained under its large, looming shadow, and for good reason.
Part two of a Bon Jovi two parter! For the last instalment, 1984’s Bon Jovi, click here.
BON JOVI – 7800° Fahrenheit (1985 Polygram, 2012 special edition)
Sophomore slump? Bon Jovi’s first record didn’t set the world alight, but their second, 7800° Fahrenheit sounded like they’d run out of material. It had a darker overall vibe, but managed to go gold in the US. To this day, 7800° Fahrenheit remains an inconsistent listen with a few great songs and a number of pure filler.
Although I was backtracking through their catalogue after Slippery When Wet, I was decidedly disappointed with 7800° Fahrenheit. Based on the excellently fun single and video “In and Out of Love”, it wasn’t unreasonable to expect more. That song was a blast, quality-wise sounding like a Slippery also-ran. It’s the only tune that periodically shows up on Bon Jovi hits albums. This remastered edition also has a smoking live version of the tune (from Tokyo), featuring an extended jam and guitar solo by Richie Sambora, before Tico Torres gets the spotlight for a drum solo! It’s a 12 minute track total, not the kind of thing you expect in a bonus track.
“Tokyo Road”, another hard rocker, is also worthy of praise. Japan was about the only place Bon Jovi were big. I could do without the boring “Sakura” intro though. Wow, does that thing get old fast. Otherwise, “Tokyo Road” is superfine. Jon seems to find these songs embarrassing today. They were certainly not very sophisticated lyrically, but neither is “When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you.”
Also on the better side are “The Price of Love” and “The Hardest Part is the Night”. Every good Bon Jovi has to contain a few heartbroken rockers. These two do the job while retaining an edge of toughness. Having Richie Sambora unfettered on axe sure does help. I’ll also admit a fondness for the single/video “Only Lonely”. Bon Jovi captured that tone of desperation. This rock ballad also appears as a live bonus track, much tougher and stronger than the studio version. It sounds like possibly a rehearsal tape.
“Only Lonely” had a pretty high budget music video for a band of Bon Jovi’s stature. It’s cheesy as hell and absolutely hilarious to watch today. So serious! It almost appears like a trailer in some kind of Bon Jovi movie. I guess Jon was interested in acting even back then.
7800° Fahrenheit was also plagued with its fair share of filler, leading to believe that Bon Jovi really only had half the material needed for a good second album. Among the filler: “Silent Night”, one of the sappiest of the sappy ballads from early Bon Jovi. It does work in clinical studies* as a sleep aid, if you need that sort of thing.
The last three albums tracks in a row were all pretty dozy and unremarkable, rendering the second side a limp finish. “Always Run to You”, “To the Fire”, and “Secret Dreams” as as forgettable as they are substandard. This second side has always made 7800° Fahrenheit a hard album to want to finish listening to in its entirety. The only interesting bit of trivia about these songs is that drummer Tico Torres only had one co-writing credit in Bon Jovi history, and it’s on “Secret Dreams”.
I don’t need to tell you that whatever slump Bon Jovi were in, they certainly overcame it by the next album. With a little help of course: names such as Desmond Child, Bruce Fairbairn, and Bob Rock. 7800° Fahrenheit is a forgettable blip in their trajectory.
BON JOVI – Bon Jovi(1984 Polygram, 2012 special edition)
With Bon Jovi sucking quite a lot of ass lately, there has never been a better time to go back and check out some old Bon Jovi. Join us in taking a look at the band’s very first LP, Bon Jovi from 1984. It didn’t do much in terms of sales. The music videos are kind of funny to look at today. But there is an honesty and innocence to early Bon Jovi, that is completely gone from the band now. Then, they were five hungry guys trying to make it together. Today they’re three guys — one boss and two employees. Today we will look at the 2012 reissue, with four live bonus tracks. This is notable since Bon Jovi rarely if ever played these songs after they hit it big.
Jon Bongiovi had been working at Power Station recording studios, having got a job there thanks to his cousin Tony Bongiovi. Several demos from that era have been released on compilations such as Jon Bon Jovi – The Power Station Years. The studio time evolved into a band with a record deal. They soon set down to record nine songs for their debut album to be called Tough Talk, however the label convinced them a self titled debut was the way to go.
The first track and single was actually an older song: “Runaway”. JBJ had a local hit with it, which he recorded with the “All Star Review”, five local studio guys. Among them was bassist Huey McDonald, who later went on to play bass with Bon Jovi themselves. It’s an instantly catchy rock song leaning heavily on keyboards. Even from this early track you can tell that young Jon Bon Jovi had a hell of a talent for writing catchy hooks. The immaculate backing vocals are obviously not those of Richie Sambora. Just wait until Jon goes for the high notes at the end though!
It was 1984, the peak of the “post-apocalyptic wasteland” setting for music videos.
Moving on to “Roulette”, we now get a song that is a little harder-edged. Richie has a chunky guitar riff that gives the song some weight. Jon pours it all on, and it’s clear even on this first album that Sambora was a serious talent. His style has evolved considerably over the years, but at this stage he was already capable of writing great songs with memorable guitar solos.
“She Don’t Know Me” was also a single, but this one has not aged so well. Sounding like a New Jersey version of the lighter side of Journey, “She Don’t Know Me” is a lil’ too sappy for most adults. It’s not terrible but “She Don’t Know Me” is just too heavy on the syrup. It is at least upbeat, with a Sambora solo right out of the Neal Schon book of tricks!
“Shot Through the Heart” is a forgotten song, since its title was used as in the chorus of “You Give Love a Bad Name”. This is a hard rock heartbreak, the kind of thing Jon does so well. The balance comes from Sambora. Without him, there’s no edge. He brings a very special guitar quality to the table, not to mention songwriting.
The first Bon Jovi album’s biggest weakness is an over-reliance on sad sounding love songs. “Love Lies” is another one, a dusky piano based ballad. David Bryan (known here as David Rashbaum) co-wrote it with Jon, and like all the other tunes it does have quality to it. It’s just too much heartbreak for one side of vinyl.
“Breakout”, also written by Rashbaum, is a hard enough rocker to open side two. Jon has found some backbone, telling his ex that he’s “better off on my own”. That’s better, Jon! Let’s stay strong buddy, and crank out a rocker. “Burning for Love” continues the hot streak. Now we’re cooking with gas. Richie really nails it on the axe. Then is a song called “Come Back”. You might expect by the title that Jon has lost his balls again. Thankfully, his pal Richie is there to keep him standing. “Come Back” is a bit of a broken-hearted rocker, but Sambora’s pick scrapes keep it rock and roll.
One last rocker was all you needed to call it an album back then. Of all the songs on Bon Jovi, “Get Ready” sounds the most like what Bon Jovi would become famous for: good time rock music! Guitar, piano, bass and drums: that’s all you need for a rock and roll party. This really sounds like Bon Jovi.
That’s a pretty solid debut album right there, for a band in Bon Jovi’s league. I have no idea why they (he) won’t play so many of these songs anymore. They’re better than most of the stuff he’s been putting out lately. And we still have the four bonus tracks to discuss.
The four live songs come from various shows, 1984-1988. Each is heavier than its studio counterpart. “Runaway” benefits from the full band treatment, as opposed to the studio cats. Having Richie there singing it with Jon makes all the difference. (This is not the same version as the B-side from “Lay Your Hands On Me”.) “Roulette” is a solid inclusion. “Breakout” keeps it rolling, but you gotta love that “Get Ready” was also included, ending the album as it always has.
3.5/5 stars
2010 Special Edition bonus tracks
1. “Runaway (Live Le Zenith, November 20, 1988)”
2. “Roulette (Live BBC Friday Rock Show)”
3. “Breakout (Live Super Rock ’84)”
4. “Get Ready (Live Japan Tour 1985)”
WARRANT – Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich (1989, 2004 Sony remaster)
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