DVD Review: Ian Hunter Band feat. Mick Ronson, Live at Rockpalast 1980

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

Ian Hunter Band feat. Mick Ronson, Live at Rockpalast 1980

Directed by Christian Wagner
MIG / WDR
74 min, 1980 / 2011 / 2012
www.MIG-music.de
www.MVDvisual.com

Call me crazy, but I always thought of Ian Hunter’s infamous Mott the Hoople as the British version of the MC5. After he left the band, well, if you’ve ever had the chance to hear Mott, you know just how sorely he was missed. I saw Mott open for Sparks at Avery Fischer Hall in the mid-1970s and, well, it’s not a good memory.

Guitarist extraordinaire Mick Ronson, who died in 1993 of cancer, first came to the consciousness of the US through his work with Bowie’s Spiders of Mars. I still remember seeing the ginormous billboard promote his solo LP, Slaughter on 10th Avenue in Times Square in the ‘70s (I have a picture of it somewhere). When he joined up with Mott, both he and Hunter soon left to live in New York City and continue their collaboration.

When introduced by the emcee for this performance at Grugahalle, in Essen, Germany, on April 20, 1980 (Adolph’s birthday, FYI), I find it kind of funny that these two Brits are invoked as a New York band. This is part of the same tour that gave the world Hunter’s Welcome to the Club live double LP; in fact, the playlist is extremely similar. The one major difference, I’m sorry to say, is that there is no Ellen Foley, who often backed up Hunter and Ronson. Other than that, the band is the same.

After a brief instrumental of “F.B.I.”, Hunter strolls out with his guitar and after saying hello in German, the band lays into ”Once Bitten, Twice Shy,” a hit from his eponymous first solo release. They show they are there to take care of business. As with many of his songs of the period, they are a bit rough and yet poppy, and have enormous hooks that are just shy of stadium rock stature.

Hunter never had a “perfect” voice, which makes it all the more charming in its uniqueness. You can recognize it instantly, and not just because of the ever present accent. He also seems quite at ease on the stage as he continues on covering key songs from his solo LPs and some – but not much – Hoople material.

A stand-out song right at the beginning is the underrated Sonny Bono sans-Cher song, “Laugh at Me.” It’s the first time Ronson joins in with his vocals, as he shares a mic with Hunter for the first few stanzas of the instantly identifiable, round-chording of the eventually Republican Scientologist Bono (d. 1998; he would have been 80 this year).

After the ballad “Irene Wilde” where Hunter trade his guitar for a piano, he hooks up again to cover the Hoople’s grinder, “I Wish I Was Your Mother,” with Ronson on mandolin. On this one, Hunter has a sort of Dylan-esque patter to his voice.

But he picks it up again with the rousing jailhouse themed “Just Another Night,” including a stint of standing in the audience – next of a seemingly very nervous cameraman – as the crowd chants the title over and over, fed by the band holding up the words in German. This is followed by the first song that sounds like the ‘80s, “We Gotta Get Out of Here,” as it is drenched in a synth sound; it’s a tone I’m not particularly fond of, but the upbeat pace saves it on some level.

They redeem themselves with the lengthy, hard-hitting and mean spirited “Bastard,” which always reminded me of the song “For the Hell of It” from Phantom of the Paradise (1974). Also, they return to form with “All the Way from Memphis,” a rousing Hoople number where Hunter and Ronson trade complimentary guitar licks. I also find it amusing that the song “Cleveland Rocks” had such a strong second life with The Drew Carey Show. It really is a fun piece of fluff, and the band here rocks it up with no mercy.

For the encore, we get treated to the two leads’ biggest hits, Hunter’s “All the Young Dudes” and Ronson’s instrumental “Slaughter on 10th Avenue.” For me, these were possibly the least fave songs on the DVD, because, well, I’ve never been a fan of those two particular numbers. So much of the other material here is far superior. In my meager opinion, the only reason “Dudes” was as popular as it was is because it was written by the Thin White Duke, rather than the quality of the actual song.

The sound here, as with most of this series, is quite crisp, as is the visuals. However, there is some visual “noise” occasionally, seen as lines across the screen that crop up here and there. It’s a common effect from transferring from PAL to a non-European format. Still, it’s (a) not often or intrusive enough to ruin the experience, and (b) the quality of the music makes it worth it. The only extras are some 30-second trailers of other Rockpalast releases, the song list, a really nice booklet filled with black and white photos of the show, and technical information (i.e., credits). Note that this is also available as a CD, and I’m going to venture to guess it’s also obtainable in digital form.

Most of the band is dressed in stage clothes that represent more of the New Wave, with guitarist Tom Morrongiello’s curly mullet and black and white tiger-striped top (and sunglasses, of course), or another member in a black leather jacket that’s more Michael Jackson than Ramones, all of which would be outdated very shortly. Hunter, of course, wears what has become his signature outfit: white shoes, gray suit and white shirt with extended collars and loosened tie, sunglasses, and his big perm (which I’d have to be convinced that it’s not a wig).

As over-indulgent music grabbed hold of the ‘80s, many British vocalists would strike out on their own and have overbloated hits, such as Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” or Phil Collins’…well, everything. Just about the only one who rose above all that clamor, in my humble opinion, was Hunter with his “All of the Good Ones Are Taken,” which is sadly not included here because it would not be released for another three years after this show.

For a guy who is 41 years old at the time this was recorded (he’s 76 now), Hunter put together a great show for this concert. And we, the audience, are the lucky for it.

Band:

Ian Hunter: vox / guitar / keyboards
Mick Ronson: guitar / vox
Tom Morrongiello: guitar
Martin Briley: bass
George Meyer: keyboards / saxophone
Tom Mandel: keyboards
Eric Parker: drums

Song List:

FBI
Once Bitten Twice Shy
Angeline
Laugh at Me
Irene Wilde
I Wish I Was Your Mother
Just Another Night
We Gotta Get Out of Here
Bastard
All the Way from Memphis
Cleveland Rocks
Encore:
All the Young Dude
Slaughter on 10th Avenue

 

Bonus No. 1 unconnected video:

 

Bonus No. 2 unconnected video:

Jack Bruce: The 50th Anniversary Concerts, DVD Edition

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

Jack Bruce: The 50th Anniversary Concerts – DVD Edition (2 DVDs)

MIG / Intact
235 minutes, 1993 / 2014
www.mig-music.de    
www.mvdvisual.com

Jack Bruce is associated with many of the important blues rockers of the 1960 and onward, including John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers, Manfred Mann, Blues Incorporated and West, Bruce & Laing. However, it will always be Cream for which his name will be linked first.

Quick side story: when I was in sleepaway camp during the 1960s, during one year the only record anyone thought to bring up for the three weeks was Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love.” When we had dances, we would play it over and over. If we wanted to dance fast and frantic, we played it at 78. When we wanted to slow dance, we played it at 78. I don’t remember them putting the needle to the B-side, though they probably did. To this day, I am conformable hearing it at all those speeds.

On November 2 and 3 of 1993, concerts were held at E-Werk in Cologne, Germany, to celebrate Jack Bruce’s 50th birthday, almost 21 years before his passing on October 25, 2014 at age 71.

As presented here in usual excellent Rockpalast standards, the beginning is at a slow build. It initiates with Bruce playing Improvisation on Minuet No. 1 solo on the cello. A multi-musical talent, I understand now why people don’t usually know him for this instrument. I’m just sayin’ and truthifyin’, not hatin’.

After he jumps on the piano (much better) and starts a selection of tunes that sound pretty jazzy in an early style that Fats Waller would have loved, he is joined by keyboardist Gary Husband. With Bruce playing a full piano and Husband on electronics, they blend a sound that is both titters and full chested. Getting better all the time.

When those numbers are completed and Husband is dismissed, Bruce picks up the bass and brings out British blues saxophone legend Dick Heckstall-Smith (d. 2004), along with his Cream compadre, the one and only curmudgeon drummer Ginger Baker. This, of course, changes the dynamics of the room. Interestingly, the trio does not break out into busting some Blues, but into some beautify jazz riffs, usually led by Heckstall-Smith’s sax (though sometimes he does this trick where he plays the sax and clarinet at the same time). Naturally, everyone gets their solo shots. There is a lot of off-kilter-style jazz improvs that would have made Miles proud, full of a-tonal and arrhythmic phrasing.

At 42 minutes, the band expands and we finally get to hear some rock solid blues, with “First Time I Met the Blues.” Of course, it is heartfelt and respectful. Then, as the band gets even larger – including the amazing keyboardist Bernie Worrell, who I had the pleasure to meet in the 1980s when he accompanied Human Switchboard at Irving Plaza – they start to rock a bit more.

About an hour into the first disc, the selection starts turning proggish, and my interest started to wan… Part of me wanted to put on the Ramones, which is always an antidote to this. It was going fine until then, but I suddently starting thinking about what was for supper, and that’s a bad sign. But I was determined to stick it out.

It was worth it, of course, because being the Blues man, you know that would come back, and it did strongly with “Neighbor, Neighbor” and “Born Under a Bad Sign.” This, as with most of the songs, comes with many solos by various musicians, everyone getting their limelight time.

One of the variances into classic rock style with a Celtic lilt is “Ships in the Night,” when he is joined by singer Maggie Reilly (who, elsewhere, was the female vocal on Mike Oldfield’s amazing “Five Miles Out,” but I digress…). With this and the following numbers, she goes into back-up singer, Darlene Love / Uta Hedgwig mode for a few numbers, before vanishing into the night.

“Willpower,” a blasting and grinding number, also shows one of the reasons for the rise of punk rock, just seeming to go on and on (and on). It’s over 5 minutes, and it seems half of it is just the chorus, consisting to the song title, over and over (and over). The follow-up, with Bruce switching back to piano, is “Never Tell Your Mother She’s Out of Tune,” which goes on for over 9 minutes. Fortunately, it’s a totally up-beat blues-based

raver, and like so many choices on these, there is sections of instrumentals. Rightfully so, he backs off to a slower number, “Theme From an Imaginary Western,”for which he never lets up with the power. Being his 50th birthday, it makes sense to end the first DVD with “Golden Days.”

Before discussing the second disk, I need to stop here for a moment and reflect with an explanation. Jack Bruce is extremely talented, as was all members of Cream, and everyone who participated on this is stellar. I am certainly not trying to put it down in any way. That being said, there was a reason I stopped listening to the radio soon after Sgt. Pepper’s, and especially into the ‘70s, because music became too…sterile. Even the bluesy numbers of, say, Led Zeppelin, sounded bombastic to the point of driving me to the “1-2-3-4” of the Ramones. Jack Bruce and company are the same. Over the years I’ve come to appreciate the talent behind these British Blues rockers, but there is still something about long songs, seemingly endless solos and earnest musical masturbation that can make me…distracted to something else.

Now that I’ve cleared the air a bit, I’m ready for disc two, which seems more focused on the Cream era. We shall see.

As with the first, this disc opens on a nice, slower note, with Bruce sitting with an acoustic guitar, singing “As You Said,” accompanied by two cellos. It’s pretty effective, and has a mix between Celtic and modern. The band comes in for the next, similar sounding “Rope Ladder to the Moon.” See, part of the problem with me, particularly, reviewing this, is with the exception of some of the Cream stuff, Bruce’s material never really entered into the realm of my tastes, so I am not familiar with much of it (e.g., “Oh, this is from that group and that album…”).

For example, after he switches back to the bass, they do “Life on Earth.” This song, from 1981, sounds like another of that string of Peter Gabriel “Sledgehammer” / Steve Winwood “Higher Love” ‘80s solo comebacks. I was listening to hardcore and the Garage Revival back then, so this is kinda out of my ken. The next few songs seem from the same period.

I was amused at the juxtaposition of Toto’s Simon Phillips’ extended drum solo. His kit is huge and he rambles on with it. Afterwards, you see Ginger Baker, ciggy-butt dangling from his half-toothless mouth (he has COPD now…keep smokin’ kids!), get into his miniscule-by-comparison kit, and almost nonchalantly show how it’s done. One of my fave moments.

The Cream starts rising, with “Sitting on Top of the World,” a folk song they Blues’d up to fame. And here is where the really long, extended songs begin (this one is over 7 minutes, as are many of the others to come). Baker on drums, Bruce on bass; all that’s missing is, well… Clapton would tour with the two in the next decade, but he was not present for this. Ably taking his place for this section is Humble Pie’s Clem Clempson. Pete Brown, the lyricist who co-wrote some of Cream’s biggest hits (and cousin of Marty Feldman), jumps in and joins the vocals for “Politician.”

It’s the Cream era that I’ve been patiently (sorta) waiting for, and here it is. “White Room” (8+ minutes) bleeds out, and a near full orchestral “Sunshine of Your Love” (7+ minutes) are actually done great. With the extra instrumentation (including two bassists, two drummers, a horn section, an acoustic guitar, piano, Bernie Worrell’s keyboard) and Clempson’s guitar, they show that the songs retain their power even after all these years…make that decades.

This section ends with the sizzling 8+ minute (get my point?) blues grinder, “Blues You Can’t Lose.”

Though everyone seems to be wearing the same clothes, I’m wondering if this next part is from a different night, because he covers a bunch of the material that’s already be done. However, for this part he’s joined by Baker on drums and Thin Lizzy’s Gary Moore (d. 2011) on guitar. Moore is a dynamic player, different in style than Clempson, so he manages to shake up the redone material, making it fresh.

Even “Life on Earth” takes on a more rock mode than ‘80s pop. Thanks, Gary, for that! Also, not only does he breathe an entirely different flavor into the mix, he also pushes Bruce into a different direction, as they both play their asses off, feeding each other’s energy. So much better than the first time around, even the solos.

While this trio doesn’t re-do “Sunshine,” they cover Willie Dixon’s Blues classic “Spoonful,” in a glorious fashion, and finish off, however, with “White Room.”

Again, in usual Rockpalast fashion, the sound is great (though I notice Worrell gets drowned out sometimes), the visuals sharp, and the editing enjoyable (not MTV-ishly quick cuts). I also like the way the camera focuses in on the musicians rather than the audience, who are only in a few shots. Better that way, because it’s the talent I want to see, not a roll call.

There are three different versions of this release. One is, obviously, this one, called the DVD Edition, containing 2 DVDs. There is also the Extended Edition, with both DVDs and a CD Digi-Format (just over 5 hours of material), and the Special Edition boxset of 3 DVDs plus Bonus DVD and CD (almost 8 hours). Up to you to get yer Jack Bruce fix, and how much of it you can handle.

Jack Bruce, you were a talented man, and I thank you for your years of playing; RIP. Meanwhile, I’m turning on “Rock-Rock-Rockaway Beach…”

DVD1:

Improvisation on Minuet No. 1

FM

Can You Follow?

Running Thro’ Our Hands

Childsong

The Tube

Over the Cliff

Statues

First Time I Met the Blues

Smiles & Grins

Bird Alone

Neighbor, Neighbor

Born Under a Bad Sign

Boston Ball Game 1967

Ships in the Night

Willpower

Never Tell Your Mother She’s Out of Tune

Theme From an Imaginary Western

Golden Days

 

DVD 2:

As You Said
Rope Ladder to the Moon
Life on Earth
Drum Solo by Simon Phillips
NSU
Sitting on the Top of the World
Politician
White Room
Sunshine of Your Love
Blues You Can’t Loose
Featuring Gary Moore:
Life on Earth
NSU
Sitting on the Top of the World
Politician
Spoonful
White Room

 

BONUS:

 

DVD Review: Einstürzende Neubauten: Live at Rockpalast 1990

 Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

Einstürzende Neubauten: Live at Rockpalast 1990
Directed by Christian Wagner
MIG / WDR
71 min, 1990 / 2012
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

After watching a few of the German concert series Rockpalast releases, including artists from the British Isles and the US (many from Dixie territory), it almost seems strange to hear one from Deutschland, albeit not your typical band-next-door.

Recorded at the Philipshalle, in Düsseldorf, on November 24, 1990, it’s fascinating to watch Einstürzende Neubauten (EN) – translated as Collapsing New Buildings – after having only heard them before (mostly on the classic 1984 ROIR cassette, 2 x 4).

Their sound has been called Industrial and Soundscapes, but it’s certainly more than that. There is a bit of No Wave thrown in there, and what makes all those descriptors inadequate is that there is so much more going on at the same time.

Right up front is Blixa Bargeld, the focal point and locus of the group. Looking a bit like a tall and lanky version of Dwight Frye, he appears as though he stepped out of an 18th Century romantic novel, with a touch of that Euro-Disco/goth black suit and Ziggy Stardust /Bowie-styled hair (sans the magenta). There is also just the hint of blue eyeshadow. He is the voice of EN, and that is not limited to his singing. And this is the part that makes me sad, as I don’t sprechen sie Deutsch. Apparently, Bargeld is fascinated with the use of German, mixing old and new, making it into something else. You can tell something different is going on by the way is carefully pronounces each wort, as though trying to make sure the audience catches the differences. And yet, he is not unknown to make guttural screeches that sound like a pick running up and down an electric guitar string, or some pterodactyl shriek that makes the listener wonder how his throat can stand it. Yet, somewhere, I get the feeling that Bertolt Brecht is smiling.

The rest of the band is an odd mixture of images, as well as sounds. For example, the guitarist, Alexander Hacke, looks like he just stepped out of a ‘80s metal band, with long, flowing hair that he whips around. There are some metalish licks, for sure, but most of it is played atonally, in a purposefully disjointed and prepared way. Bassist Marc Chung, like Bargeld, dresses in the period this was film, in very neat, white shirt and a thin right tie of light-reflecting sequins. He excitedly jumps around the stage, and it’s pretty obvious he is having a blast. He seems the least “serious” of the bunch, and derives pleasure out of the moment.

There are two percussionists (I honestly don’t know which is which, though I could probably look it up…), are fascinating to watch, but not always painless to hear. Using ordinary (e.g., shopping carts) and custom-made devices they designed themselves, they bash and crash objects against other objects, and for one instrument, bang and slide metal pieces along another metal trough, making a screeching sound reminiscent of fingers on a blackboard. Over and over again. You really have to be game for this stuff.

Obviously, I couldn’t really tell you song contents, and even if I could, as I said, there is the inside language references and context that would be lost if one were to just transpose the lyrics from the original to English. For example, the opening of “Der Tod Ist Ein Dandy” (Death is a Dandy) is translated as “Lung trains deep into space / No nags, no mare / As the knight in the game of games… / Death is a dandy on a horse.” Let me say it for you, in the clearest way I can: whaaaa?

Many of the songs represented here, such as the one above and “Armenia,” exemplifies the historical catalog of the group, from its beginning in 1980, a full decade before this was recorded, and apparently EN are still going with more than 25 full length albums released. As par with the Rockpalast series, the image is clear and the sound is exceptional, which is actually quite important when dealing with such unconventional musical conglomerations as EN posit.

Now, I have to say that if I had my choice between a nose band like EN and a Euro-disco genre – even a classic like Kraftwerk – I’d go for EN any day. I may not understand what the hell it’s about, but you can tell the earnestness of it.

While there aren’t really any extras to speak of, this does also include a second disc that is the CD of the show. Nice touch.

Band
Blixa Bargeld: Vocals/guitar/keyboard
Alexander Hacke: Guitar
N.U. Unruh: Percussion
FM Einheit: Percussion
Mark Chung: Bass

Set List:
Prolog
Feurio
Der Tod Ist Ein Dandy
Sehnsucht
Armenia
Yu Gung
Zerstorte Zelle
Trinkled
Ich Bin’s
Ein Stuhl in Der Holle
Der Kuss
Haus Der Luge
Kein Bestandteil Sein
Zeichnungen des Patienten O.T.
Sand
Letztes Biest Am Himmel

DVD Review: Charlie Daniels Band: Live at Rockpalast 1980

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

Charlie Daniels Band 1980
Directed by Christian Wagner
MIG / WDR
76 min, 1980 / 2012
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

I only saw the Charlie Daniels Band once, at Carnegie Hall in 1973. It was one of the first of many concerts I went to with Bernie Kugel after we became friends in high school. Why the Charlie Daniels Band, of all things, for a then-folkie (me) and a garage rock fan (Bernie)? They were opening for – and I kid you not – comic Robert Klein.

Back then, the only song of theirs I knew was “Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Okay, it’s pretty much the same now, except for a couple more. The difference is that I’m at an age when I can appreciate them now. I went through a country phase in the late ‘70s (yes, even as I was punking out; how much more punk could Hank Williams be, as he was arguably the Johnny Thunders of his day).

The CDB tends to be lumped together in the “Southern Rock” genre, but that’s not really fair. Most southern rock bands, like Lynyrd Skynyrd and Black Oak Arkansas (both of whom I interviewed in the mid-‘70s), were more Blues based, while the Tennessee-bred CDB is firmly country rock. Not the modern, crappy country of Shania Twain or Carrie Underwood (both of whom can truly sing, but are boring in their modernist style), but rather they are closer to the Grand Ole Opry than those who are appearing on particular that stage these days.

Essentially CDB is C&W with some rockin’ guitarwork, though their songs are varied in style. For example, some are quite reflective, such as, well, “Reflections,” in which Daniels remembers some close friends who are gone, such as his pal Ronnie van Zandt of the aforementioned Skynyrd. But he’s most famous for his story songs, such as “Legend of Wooley Swamp” (which sounds very similar to “Devil”), “Blindman,” another hit with “Uneasy Rider” (this has a similar patter to Charlie Ryan’s 1955 “Hot Rod Lincoln”), and of course, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.”

There definitely is some blues here, though, such as “No Potion for the Pain” (powerfully sung by Taz DiGregorio), but country is more prevailing.

Daniels has a strong voice, both literally and figuratively, showing why the CDB has so much clout in the country market. It makes me ponder how strange it must have been in the audience of Westfalenhalle Dortmund in Germany, on that November 28, 1980 night, and hear their jingoistic “In America.” I mean this tune is directly in Toby Keith territory. The audience seemed to enjoy it.

How country are they? Just listen to “Long Haired Country Boy.” Tom Crain’s guitar wails just right. In fact, Crain is pretty formidable, as is Daniel’s actually. The entire band is solid from beginning to end. He even takes the lead vocals on “Cumberland Mountain No. 9.” I did note, however, that it is strange there’s no slide guitar in the group.

And what better way to end the set with a long, particularly raucous and upbeat version of the bluegrass classic instrumental, “Orange Blossom Special” (with a bit of others such as “Dixie” thrown in), showcasing their heritage and bringing a bit of Americana to the Rhineland.

For a video recording from 1980, the image is quite clear, and the sound is excellent, as is usually true from the Rockpalast series. From beginning to end, this is a classic C&W lover’s dream. It certainly made me smile. And that’s even without Robert Klein.

Band
Charlie Daniels: Vocals/guitar/violin
Tom Crain: Guitar/vocals
Taz DiGregorio: Keyboards/vocals
Charlie Hayward: Bass
Fred Edwards: Drums
James W. Marshall: Drums

Set List:
Funky Junky
Trudy
Jitterbug
Legend of Wooley Swamp
Blindman
Reflections
El Toreador
No Potion for the Pain
In America
Long Haired Country Boy
Uneasy Rider
Cumberland Mountain No. 9
Devil Went Down to Georgia
Encore:
The South’s Gonna Do It Again
Orange Blossom Special

DVD Review: Molly Hatchet, Live at Rockpalast 1996

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

Molly Hatchet: Live at Rockpalast 1996
Directed by Gerd F. Schultze
MIG / WDR
71 minutes, 1996 / 2013
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

Back in 1981, I visited a friend in Greensboro, NC, and had the opportunity to attend a show or two at the legendary Fridays club. One of the bands was copying the style of Talking Heads after they went mainstream. It was then that I learned of a Greensboro tradition: rather than shouting out the name of a band they would rather see, the audience chanted the name of one they considered to be equally bad. In tandem, they screamed in the local accent, “Mol-leh Hay-chet Mol-leh Hay-chet Mol-leh Hay-chet,” until the band on stage left.

Now, I knew diddly about Hatchet, as southern rock is not one of my fortes. I’d rather listen to real blues, personally. As time went on, Hatchet never really crossed my musical bow, so outta sight outta mind, right? Well, as any long-term music reviewer knows, you never know where bands will turn up in your radar. In my case, the powers that be brought a live performance of Hatchet from the Rockpalast show on June 23, 1996, at the open-air Loreley stadium in Germany.

This was recorded soon after the addition of new vocalist Phil McCormack, who replaced long-time voxer Danny Joe Brown who left for health reasons. Since I wouldn’t know Brown’s work if I fell over it, I’ll just talk about the 1996 freshly reminted edition. They are awful. Well, the band itself is typical and not much is really exciting, but it’s McCormack who is, well, bad. Sure, he has a growl, but there is nothing noteworthy about his style. He isn’t even too determined to worry about being on key, and could be just about anyone.

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Ronnie could fuckin’ wail. Same with Jim Dandy of Black Oak Arkansas in his own way, but Phil doesn’t really have much stage presence at all. This is quite evident when you compare his vocals on the Womacks’ “It’s All Over Now” to Mick and Keef’s. The only thing outstanding about McCormack is his Rolling Stones jacket and his beer gut.

I always wonder about bands from the US, especially those from the Deep South, who gig abroad and then play songs that are strongly pro-American to a nationalistic level. I mean, yeah, they do a few bars of “Dixie,” and there are quite a few people in the audience with Southern Cross flags (it makes me nervous especially in certain European countries). It feels weird to be, even with their then-new song, “Fall of the Peacemakers,” about Vietnam vets. I mean, I can’t really recall seeing too many bands come to North America and go on with a consistent “my country is better than yours” attitude. I keep thinking of Britain’s Eater and “Thinkin’ of the USA.”

The songs here are okay, but nothing that’s going to stick in my mind longer than writing this review, quite frankly. Now, they give good energy to Greg Allman’s “Dreams I’ll Never See,” and it’s obvious the band can play, centered on Bobby Ingram’s lead guitar. There is even an interesting empty-handed drum solo by Mac Crawford. But overall, this was hardly what I would call electrifying. Yep, they hit their marks and play together nice into a neat package (especially the twin guitar-solos of Ingram and Bryan Bassett on the “Flirtin’ With Disaster” finale), but their sound lacks hooks, even with the repetitious parts that are supposed to be them.

As a side-note, considering how hot the day was and being under the lights, nearly no one’s hair seems to get slicked. I’m guessing some of these country boys are wearing wigs. Hey, it’s not unknown in the rock world either, y’know.

If yer a Hay-e-cet fan, nuthin’ I’m sayin’ is going to be true. That’s cool. Get down with some JD and enjoy ‘em at your tailgate pawty, and I’m going to listen to somethin’ else.

Band:
Phil McCormack: Vocals / harmonica
Bobby Ingram: Guitar
Bryan Bassett: Guitar
Andy McKinney: Bass
John Galvin: Keyboards
Mac Crawford: Drums
Leslie Hawkins / Therisa McCoy: Background vocals

Set List:
Bounty Hunter
It’s All Over Now
Gator Country
Rolling Thunder
Devil’s Canyon
Down from the Mountain
Whiskey Man
Dreams I’ll Never See
Encore:
Fall of the Peacemakers
The Journey
Flirtin’ with Disaster



Bonus videos:

DVD Review: Kid Creole and the Coconuts, Live at Rockpalast1982

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

Kid Creole & the Coconuts: Live at Rockpalast 1982
Directed by Christian Wagner
MIG / WDR, 1982 / 2012
Disc 1: 116 minutes
Disc 2: 125 minutes
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

Y’know, I often complain about how so much of the music related to the Top 10 charts over the past few years is actually theatre, and is essentially the same song with compressed sounds over and over, often using the same dance moves. I mean, Nicki Minaj and Ke$ha are pretty interchangeable, with no aural va va voom.

However, theatre and music (as opposed to musical theater) can work. One prime example is, say, Alice Cooper during his Billion Dollar Babies and Welcome to My Nightmare period of the mid-‘70s. But for sheer entertainment value, it’s hard to top Kid Creole and the Coconuts. Sure, David Johansen tried to step on Creole’s stylistic wave in his Buster Poindexter phase, and while he became more successful thanks to his stints on Saturday Night Live and the infectious “Hot, Hot, Hot,” it was a rip-off of KCatC – albeit a joyous and totally enjoyable one.

With an incredibly large multicultural and pan gender band including three backup singers / dancers called the Coconuts, August Darnell is in control with his zoot-suited character, Kid Creole. The music is mostly Latin based, with a touch of reggae and even a smattering of disco-influenced rhythms and proto hip-hop; there is lots of dancing, movement, storylines, and a whole lot of fun.

While I don’t think it would be fair to say that there is a narrative that goes through all the songs, there certainly is a motif, with each one is acted out using different characters, including the songs led by band co-founder Andy “Coati Mundi” Hernandez.

Many of the songs are humorous, such as “Table Manners,” “Mr. Softee” and “Annie (I’m Not Your Father),” where the Kid tells the titular girl, “If you had my blood / You wouldn’t be so ugly.” This, like most of the material, is a rave up, everyone is pretty drenched in sweat early on, but they never let up. Even with the rare slow numbers, the energy level is high, such as the lovely “Dear Addy,” which shows off the strength of Kid’s singing.

The camera keeps up with the action without doing that MTV-style quick editing that is so annoying (and always has been), which is commendable on many levels; there are also no claustrophobic close-ups of nose-hairs and the like. Plus, considering when this was recorded, the image is incredibly crisp without that dated video fuzz, and the 24-track music is sharp and clean. This is especially true considering this was probably transferred from the PAL format.

This release is actually a double DVD, with each one averaging two hours. That is a whole lot of finger and toe tapping for the viewer. There is lots of interaction between band members, the Kid, and the Coconuts (one of whom includes Darnell’s ex-), who have quite a few costume changes

The first disc is the second recorded show, starting on October 16th, 1982, and lasting into the next day. It’s filmed at the huge German showplace, Grugahalle Essen, in Cologne, part of a Rockpalast-sponsored festival. The enormous crowd, who aren’t seen too often, are obviously into the sound when the camera does focus on them. During the last samba song, “Malaise D’Amour” (translates as “Love Sickness”), the band conga lines through the audience, who joyfully join in… well, those who don’t dance on the stage, that is.

The second disc was recorded a few months earlier, on June 3, 1982, at the much smaller Sartory Halls, also in Cologne (seems to be about the size of Irving Plaza, in NYC). Story goes that this show was so well received, they were invited to play again at the much larger hall of the first disc. Despite the high energy, the sound quality for this show is a bit lacking compared to the first, though the high energy is definitely present and easy to get into the groove; the image is also a bit grainy and occasionally has the blue horizontal lines wavering. However, note that there is something intimate and gratifying about this performance, though the later show may be considered more of a definitive record.

It’s a consistent party over the two discs, with the songs being long, averaging around 6 minutes, though there are a couple that are a few that last well over 12 minutes per. And yet it all goes by so fast because it’s so much fun. This is even good listening with the sound alone. As a sidebar, it’s a joy to cook while it’s on (which I did my second time through).

The two extras, one per disc, are the trailer for the set, and a 10-minute-plus pre-show interview at the Sartory Halls, which is a humorous mix of English and German.

Band:
August “Kid Creole” Darnell: Lead vocals
Adriana Kaegi: Vocals
Cheryl Poirier: Vocals
Taryn Hagey: Vocals
Andy “Coati Mundi” Hernandez: Vibes, flute, vocals
Mark Mazur: Guitar
Miss Carol Colman: Bass
Al Mack: Drums
Bongo Eddie: Percussion
Ken Fradley: Trumpet
Lee Robertson: Trombone
Charles Lagond Sax (disc 1)
Alan Ross: Sax (disc 2)

Disk 1 Set List:
Intro
Turkey Trot
Going Places
I’m a Wonderful Thing, Baby
Mr. Softee
Loving You Made a Fool Out of Me
Ain’t You Heard the News?
Don’t Take My Coconuts
Annie I’m Not Your Daddy
No Fish Today
Que Pasa
Table Manners
Dear Addy
Stool Pigeon
Encore:
Gina Gina
Imitation
Maladie D’Amour

Bonus Disk Set List:
Adnaloy
You Had No Intention
Gina Gina
Mr. Softee
With a Girl Like Mimi
Turkey Trot
Que Pasa
Schweinerei
Any Time is Party Time
Table Manners
I’m a Wonderful Thing, Baby
Ain’t You Heard the News?
In the Jungle
Encore:
Don’t Take My Coconuts
Stool Pigeon
Latin Music
I Am

DVD Review: Public Image Limited: Live at Rockpalast 1983

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Public Image Limited: Live at Rockpalast 1983
Directed by Christian Wager
MIG / WDR, 1983 / 2011
58 minutes, USD $19.95
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

Public Image Limited (aka PiL) is not just the band that John Lydon formed after his time with the Sex Pistols, but once it’s initial members left (and pretty early on in the 1980s), essentially it became the name of Lydon’s back-up group, since musicians came and went so fast during it’s initial 14-year run (1978-1994; though a version reformed in 2009).

There is certainly a marked difference between the Pistols and PiL, despite both starting with the letter “P,” and that is certainly to Lydon’s credit. While the former were musically talented, they were certainly not very disciplined. The latter, on the other hand – and this is especially true in later incarnations of the band – were a tight and consistent unit.

For a series of shows in Germany and Japan – part of which was taped for this release when they appeared at the “uberdisco” Zeche, in Bochum, Western Germany, on Halloween 1983 – Lydon assembled a collection of touring musicians to join him and original PiL drummer Martin Atkins. While the rest of the band doesn’t necessarily look the part (guitarist Joseph Guida, for example, looks like he should be in a pre-hair-metal rock band), they certainly play like they do, giving Lydon a strong backing for his music.

During the Pistol days, in “Johnny Rotten” mode, it seemed all Lydon did was give that tilt-headed, unblinking glare which works for about a minute, and snarl out some lyrics while being a living embodiment of sarcasm. In PiL, however, while some of that still exists, he seems a lot more relaxed, and, dare I say it without destroying his public image (pun intended), he seems to be having a good time. Rather than just hanging on the mic stand, hunched over and screaming, he jumps off the stage and approaches the audience pretty often, and frequently does that reggae-style skank dancing. Heck, he even smiles repeatedly. No, this is not JR, this is JL, even though he still occasionally leans in and sings into the camera.

As this excellent performance shows, PiL take an early Stooges and / or later Flamin’ Groovies influence and base many songs on a single riff, such as with “Religion,” that is played in a round, over and over, with slight changes. Mix in a bit of atonal No Wave, and this makes it hypnotic. PiL creates something of their own though, by also adding a reggae touch (just a smidge) and an elaborate keyboard set-up that would make Rick “I’m Boring” Wakeman notice.

If I had to pick a quintessential PiL-styled song from this DVD, it would be “Memories,” though my fave is by far one of their biggest successes, relatively speaking, “Bad Life.” In this one Lydon doesn’t sing as much as atonally caterwaul. It’s more known, however, for the repeated line, “This is what you want / This is what you get…” On the DVD box, however, they state that the band’s biggest hit was “(This is Not a) Love Song.” Fair enough.

While it may not be the classic Lydon-Wobble-Levene-Atkins version of PiL, this put-together band still delivers the sound. [Two quick sidebar PiL stories: when PiL first played in New York City at the Ritz in 1981, they stood silhouetted behind a curtain while the club played prerecorded tracks. The ticket-paying fans were not impressed, and the resulting riot did a lot of damage to the club. Second, while I was working for cable access show Videowave, PiL was scheduled to appear for an interview, but the story we heard from their management was that Levene was MIA looking for drugs, so the rest of the band decided not to bother showing up, being the only non-shows in Videowave history, other than a new, young singer named Madonna Ciccone.] Quite honestly, I was not impressed with PiL back then, finding them too contrived for my Ramones-Heartbreakers-Dictators taste, but this DVD shows that there was definitely something there quite interesting, in a more primal way. This especially shown in the song “Under the House,” where everyone on stage other than Lydon rhythmically pounds drums together, while he sings / chants.

As a surprise, for the eighth song Lydon dusts off his Rotten character and delves into “Anarchy in the U.K.,” showing he still has some of the fire that lit up the Pistols. While played a bit too sterile (i.e., not sloppy, like the Pistols, but sounding more precise like the studio album/single), I’m not complaining; I sang along with it and enjoyed it. And as not a surprise, after the song, Lydon says goodnight and leaves the stage with the band. Short 33-minute set?

Well, as you can see below, they came back and played nearly as long an encore as the set itself, thankfully. Between each of these songs, though, they leave the stage and then return. Oddly, they end their show with “Public Image.” Why is this odd? Because they began the gig with the exact same song. Happily, it’s a good one.

In all, there is a total performance from beginning to end, and nearly an hour of music. Lydon’s between-song comments are kept to a minimum (thankfully), and the music stands out.

The Rockpalast series was/is far superior to any of the then-contemporary American relatives like Don Kirshner’s Rock Concerts or In Concert, because the German version played the entire show (I have no idea if the original airing had commercials or not), and did not resort to any of the ridiculous special effects that the U.S. ones did, such as split screens, flipping the images, annoying angles, or the dreaded kaleidoscope effect (that’s where there are five images in a circular pattern, and they twirl around the center). Rather, you have clear images using multi-camera editing, and a dynamic sound for its time period (i.e., pre-HD).

There are two extras: the first is a six-minute interview with Lydon done by Rockpalast host Alan Bangs. Lydon seems to be wearing pajamas and a bathrobe (I should go back and see if he’s wearing slippers…). He asks some decent questions, about such topics as the original PiL members (Lydon states that they’re busy with their “own projects,” which is to musicians what “spending more time with their families” is to politicians) and Lydon’s experience working on the film Cop Killer. Before long though, Lydon being Lydon, he gets bored and says, “Are we done?” and walks off. Y’see, Lydon is solid ego. His public persona has always (well, since joining the Pistols anyway) believed that what he feels at any particular moment, is the most important thing, regardless of anyone else’s needs. Now, one can look at this admiringly, as being his own person. I find it’s easier to be like that than have to attended to someone behaving in that manner. Being obnoxious is only good in the first person, but again, Lydon being Lydon, he has never been able to think beyond his own skin. I mean this as an observation rather than a judgment… Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both…

The second extra is the band – with Lydon still in PJs and robe – soundchecking “Annalisa” and “Chant.”

I would recommend this without hesitation. It’s Lydon and his music at the top of his game, and an easy groove with which to have some fun.

Band:
John Lydon: Vocals
Joseph Guida: Guitar
Louis Bernardi: Bass
Arthur Stead: Keyboards
Martin Atkins: Drums

Set List:
Public Image Limited
Annalisa
Religion
Memories
Flowers of Romance
Solitaire
Chant
Anarchy in the U.K.
Encores:
(This is Not a) Love Song
Low Life
Under the House
Bad Life
Public Image II

DVD Review: Johnny Winter Live at Rockpalast

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet



Johnny Winter Live at Rockpalast 1979
Directed by Unknown
MVD Visual, 1979 / 2011
90 minutes, USD $19.95
MVDvisual.com

This April 1979 oft-bootlegged show has finally been released on DVD, thanks to the good people at MVD Visual. Broadcast live on German television, it was filmed at Grugahalle, in Essen, Deutschland.

Previously to the show, and after having been raised in the swampy sounds of Delta blues in Texas, Johnny Winter made his name playing blues rock in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. After a famous bout in rehab to get rid of an addiction, Winter basically used that fulcrum to find his way back to the blues, which expressed the internal frustration that was most likely raging side. He understood the blues and was feeling it strongly, so it seems apropos. As shown here, he tries to get away from rock’n’roll somewhat, but they keep pulling him back in.

For this concert, Winter is part of a power trio. On bass is afro’d Jon Paris, who has worked with the likes of Elvis (on Roots Revolution), Dylan, Robert Gordon, Jimmy Cliff and Peter Tosh (not to mention his own solo releases). He seems to be having a blast here, as he has a wide open smile almost throughout, and he gets to play both harmonica and, for two songs, lead guitar and vox. On drums – many, many drums, including a double floor bass set – is Bobby Caldwell, who has played in (or with) the likes of Captain Beyond, Armageddon, Rich Derringer, and (as has Paris) Johnny Winter during some of his rock period. He plays okay (not magnificently), sometimes in a slashing motion, but seems out of place for a blues show with his complex kit, spandex sleeveless red shirt, and red silk boxer shorts (aka, a rock drummer clothing cliché).

The song list of blues is pretty strong, including Freddie King’s “Hideaway,” Junior Wells’ “Messin’ With the Kid,” and Willie Brown’s “Mississippi Blues.” He sets (figuratively) fire to his Gibson Firebird as he floats around the stage, or plays sitting on a stool. Truthfully, he’s looking pretty frail, his wispy frame moving around the stage like a corn stalk blowing in a wind. His long, thin fingers snake over the neck with a passion, whatever it is he is playing. Actually, he looks like hell, his teeth gray and his albino skin looking more sallow than usual. And is it me, or is he a bit testy, as well? He seems to have a few words for Jon Paris here and there (both of whom ignore Caldwell until the very end), though Jon’s joy of what he is playing never seems to wan.

But then again, Winter is also self-deprecating in his brief comments between songs, as well as perhaps a bit condescending to his audience who want to rock. More than once, he comments to the audience that he knows they’re expecting rock’n’roll, but he’s going to play the blues, if it’s “okay” with them, while extolling the virtues of the genre.

Meanwhile, there are some songs he plays in the middle that border (or perhaps overlap) on rock, such as “Divine Duck” and the staple, “Suzie Q.” At this point, for some reason, Jon Paris takes over the guitar and vocals for some ole time rock and roll and rockabilly with Muddy Waters’ “I’m Ready,” which he starts with a solid Chuck Berry-sounding guitar riff, followed by Johnny Burnette’s “Rockabilly Boogie.” No wonder he played with Elvis. While he is riffing away decently, Winter is relegated to the bass, which he plays without much flaunting. However, there is one brief shining moment where both Paris and Winter seem to be enjoying playing each other’s instrument (now, now…).

As a partial digression here, the original program was two hours long rather than the 90 minutes here, and included a cover of Berry’s “Johnny Be Goode,” and a Caldwell drum solo with a soon-to-be-retired Patti Smith, of all people, on clarinet! I’ve read some reviews that complain that these two numbers could have (or should have) been substituted for the Paris-led ones. I admit I agree, even though I enjoyed the Paris performance. Heck, why wasn’t it all here?

After these ‘50s rock and roll throwbacks, Winter comes back to the lead with a unyielding and seamless blues medley of “Stones in My Passway” (Robert Johnson), “Leaving Blues” (Leadbelly), and “Rollin’ and Tumblin’” (Muddy Waters), which you can see he is totally enjoying as he sits on the stool and marinates in the sound, some of which is played with a slide on his pinkie.

The audience seems a bit bewildered by the blues stuff, albeit they seem to be getting pleasure from it. Paris comes over and says something to Winter, obviously to encourage / cajole him, and Winter unwillingly concedes (note: author Sean McDevitt stated that it is “best to think of this offering as a reward, not a concession”), saying “If you don’t dig quality, at least you’ll get off on volume. Here we go!”, and then breaks into the last song, the Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” which the audience eats up. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable actually, even though he played the shit out of it. The reason? Winter starts rocking – nay, mocking – the whole rock star on-stage image with the grimaces and false bravado he obviously isn’t feeling. In fact, at one point he changes the line from “Jumpin’ Jack Flash / It’s a gas” to “Jumpin’ Jack Flash / It’s a fuckin’ drag.” I do have to comment that he shows why he was considered such a strong rocker as he wails away at the guitar.

Considering when it took place, this concert was most likely taped in European PAL format, and then transferred and adapted to the North American NTSC system. The image is not bad, considering its age and the technology at the time, though when in the right light, there are thin horizontal lines that appear from time to time, but I didn’t find it much distracting. Perhaps I’m old enough to remember just how crappy some video was back then. The sound, however, is pretty crisp and in full stereo, making it enjoyable to give a listen. If the visual are off-putting to the viewer, this is also available in CD. For me, no matter how this is played, hearing Johnny sing and growl is a joy. His lateral “S” lisp works well with the style.

Johnny Winter is a delight to listen to, and for me, also to watch, as he wrings the neck of the guitar, twisting out sounds and bending the notes. The camera wisely focuses on him and often on his playing in long enough shots to actually see what he is doing (as opposed to much modern concert footage where, in MTV mode, the editing doesn’t allow the eye to rest on the fingerwork).

The blues is what Winter needed to be playing that night after a grueling period of his life, and while he had the opportunity to express it, it truly is a celebration of his talent and love of the blues.

Track Listing:
Hideaway
Messin’ With the Kid
Walking By Myself
Mississippi Blues
Divin’ Duck
Suzie Q
I’m Ready
Rockabilly Boogie
Medley
Jumpin’ Jack Flash