Wednesday, 5/7/97 Soundbites
Various Artists "Kerouac – Kicks Joy Darkness" (Ryko) OK, so
you’re sick of the whole spoken word/ coffeehouse thing – as if it
were a new trend or something as timeless as poetry read aloud by
somewhat pretentious folks could be a trend at all. But even if
you’re growing tired of the art-house hoopla, you can use this CD
as a bookend for that chapter of your cultural life. It’s sure to
be better than an open mike reading, with some unforgettable
moments – though they’re mixed with some moments you’d really
rather forget. Whatever your opinion of Jack Kerouac – visionary
bohemian or overrated, self-indulgent sycophant – many of these
readings bring out an undeniable spirit. Sometimes that spirit is
inherent in Kerouac’s poetry; sometimes it is solely the passion
and verbal gift of the reader. Some of the fun of the album is
simply hearing some of the greatest artists of all genres stepping
out of their comfortable roles. As ubiquitous as tribute albums
are, you’re not going to find another one where Aerosmith’s Steven
Tyler and the legendary John Cale share disc space with literary
gurus William Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson. The late Allen
Ginsberg and Kerouac himself even chime in. Many true alternative
music notables – Patti Smith, Eddie Vedder, Morphine, Thurston
Moore, Michael Stipe (and Juliana Hatfield, who should stick to
Shel Silverstein readings) – give their offbeat renditions of
Kerouac lines. Morphine kicks the tribute off with an original poem
to Kerouac, though it doesn’t hold a candle to Hunter S. Thompson’s
irreverent "Ode to Jack," which praises his uncanny ability to run
over dogs. The material ranges from journal-style accounts to
formal poetry, the beautiful or hilarious to the banal. The
readings run the gamut from deadpan recitations to impassioned
howls, from the traditional to the downright eerie (check out
Johnny Depp’s and Come’s "Madroad driving…"). The most memorable
tracks are Lydia Lunch’s fierce "Bowery Blues" and its emotional
opposite, Cale’s "The Moon." Cale’s deep, hypnotic voice is buoyed
by a gorgeous background of keyboards that have the fluid
vibrations of strings and the hollow melancholy of reeds. Cale and
the music exquisitely capture the poem’s ethereal tone of longing
and peace. Lunch (whoever she is) is an incredible reader – easily
the most jarring on the disc, the rawness in her voice accentuated
by the crackling of an old-style vinyl recording. Kerouac and Joe
Strummer pair up for a bizarre, ultramodern reading of "MacDougal
Street Blues," with a minimal dance rhythm in the background that
recalls a wild New York summer night and all its possibility. Some
of the musical accompaniments are less than complimentary – the
annoying saxophone and hand drums that the word "beatnik" conjures
make an unwelcome appearance on "Letter to John Clellon Holmes" and
"Mexican Loneliness." A few of the poetry and music combos are
downright painful. But then there’s the haunting Western guitars of
Burroughs’ irresistible second offering, "Old Western Movies,"
which raise the reading to a new level. His voice, like those of
Stipe, Cale and Warren Zevon, are poetry in themselves. You’ll be
replaying those tracks time and again, trying to remember to
actually listen to what they are saying instead of being lulled
along by their vocal chords. The album is full of hits and misses,
but those on target make the others worth wading through in hopes
of "connecting" at some point. Kristin Fiore A- Chicago "The Heart
of Chicago 1667-1997" (Reprise) This greatest hits collection just
doesn’t make any sense. First of all, Chicago released a
greatest-hits album about seven years ago that contained almost all
of the same songs. Second, Chicago has undergone more changes in
terms of personnel than any band imaginable. There are no original
singers or songwriters who have remained with the group. Not only
that, but the style of music has changed from jazzy pseudo-rock
such as "Saturday in the Park" and "Colour My World" to melodic
ballads such as "Look Away" and "Hard Habit to Break." Although
some of the songs are great, the chronological order on the album
is completely random, so listening to it is akin to spinning the
radio dial from random station to random station. While this may be
fine for the radio, it becomes very annoying when listening to an
album. Putting the songs in chronological order would have been
educational for people unfamiliar with Chicago’s music, as well as
avoiding the abrupt shifts in musical style and format. Third, the
album compilers decided to use Chicago’s best song, "Hard to Say
I’m Sorry," as the album’s final track, which is fine. However,
rather than use the radio version of the song, they used a version
that ends with a minute-plus instrumental jam that doesn’t sound
right and makes no sense at all. Finally, the album contains two
new tracks. One of them, "Here in My Heart," is a decent but boring
ballad. The other song, "The Only One," is an attempt to have one
of Chicago’s first lead singers, James Pankow, trade vocal licks
with Peter Cetera’s successor, Jason Scheff. Pankow’s heavy
baritone and Scheff’s soft tenor could be combined effectively, but
on this ridiculous track co-produced by (of all people) Lenny
Kravitz, nothing works. This collection contains a number of great
songs, but the decisions that went into putting it together leave
many questions unanswered. Jeff Hilger C Nanci Griffith "Blue Roses
From the Moons" (Elektra) All right. You probably don’t find
yourself in the mood for slow, sad country songs with a smooth
female voice but once in a blue moon. Yet, you just never know when
the mood may strike. That’s why Griffith makes a fine addition to
any eclectic collector’s shelf. Griffith’s work does more than
whine in a Tennessee twang about lost loves on a highway where
trucks patrol the diners and leave potmarks from Fresno to Little
Rock. Instead, her comforting, motherly voice set to the calming
sound of acoustic guitars and violins recalls the grainy film
quality of ’70s romance movies whose credits roll down the
television screen at 3 in the morning, leaving a tear in your tired
eye and a knot in your emotional, sleep-deprived heart. In a way,
Griffith could play the female counterpart to the Dave Matthews
Band, appealing to the 30-something crowd that listens to such
greats as the Cowboy Junkies and lesser artists as Hootie and the
Blowfish. "She Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere" delivers the soul-satisfying,
though not amazingly original, images of a hitchhiker. The lyrics
have Griffith lamenting, "The wind had a way with her hair/ And the
blues had a way with her smile/ And she had away of her own/ Like
prisoners have a way with a file." Though some songs dwell in an
overly orchestrated display of melodrama and others attempt to rock
out in a truly unsuccessful manner, most tracks land right on
target. Vanessa VanderZanden B Regurgitator "Tu-Plang" (Reprise)
Don’t be fooled by the smashingly brilliant titles of tunes such as
"I Sucked a Lot of Cock to Get Where I Am" or "G7 Dick
ElectroBoogie." Even the lyrics to "Pop Porn," which read, "I’m a
sexist motherfucker on the microphone with my ‘oh yo, suck my dick
ho’ drone," fail to really piss you off. Once you realize that
Regurgitator speaks from a PC point of view, hoping to rip on all
of the unpopular ideals which it seemingly intends to propagate,
all the fun is spoiled. Sometimes, it really would be great to hear
a group of absolutely sexist, racist pigs pump out hate and
ignorance in a mysogynistic stupor of intolerance. It would be,
funny? No, Regurgitator’s got it right. Not only does it make a few
good politically important notes, but it also offers some
innovative tunes. The ever-changing style flips from a Weezer-esque
alterna-track to a Rage Against the Machine-style rant to a mockery
of techno whizzings. Where the band will take you next never seems
obvious. A few rap/techno ditties a la Beck find their way to the
turntables while strange noises constantly propel the lead singer’s
low, thick voice over waves of electric guitar. If anything,
Regurgitator’s only problem is having chosen a ill-fitting band
name. In no way does this intriguing band merely spew forth what
the music industry currently slaps down on the market. For
instance, "348 Hz" plays like a grainy surf tune, splashing against
the graffitied rocks of a messy out-of-town shore. In any one song,
you could spend ample time picking out all of the individual noises
dangling in corners of choruses and spinning dangerously just out
of sight beyond the breaks in guitar solos. Yet, like most
experimental albums, "Tu-Plang" requires some time to get into. It
doesn’t grab you on the first listen, but give it some time and you
may find yourself a new friend. Vanessa VanderZanden B+ Soundbites
runs Mondays and Wednesdays. VARIOUS ARTISTS "Kerouac – Kicks Joy
…" VARIOUS ARTISTS "Kerouac – Kicks Joy …"