Various - Dance Pool, Vol. 1

Sony Music Direct: 1993

I've touched upon Dance Pool in the past. In the way, way, way past. It was a pair of Canadian tie-in compilations called Euro Dance Pool, so if you need to know the history of Sony's dance music offshoot, you can scope those reviews out. Eh, they're buried too deep in the long-ago? Well, I'm not gonna' do another recap here. I mean, it's mostly self-explanatory what Dance Pool was, who it's biggest acts were, their impact on the German mainstream clubbing scene. Just think of all the top eurodance names from Germany in the early '90s, and Dance Pool likely distributed half of them.

So when Canadaland was seeing some positive gains with the music, Sony was right there to capitalize on it, premiering their own Dance Pool offshoot here, Dance Pool. Straight forward enough, but this Vol. 1 is an odd one. Oh, it's got some hits of the day, no question, just not the hits you'd expect from a clubbing label with German origins. I can only assume Sony didn't have full faith North Americans would be as interested in those sounds, so reached out among all its national subsidiaries to fill this compilation out.

Thus you get The Shamen's LSI (Love Sex Intelligence) (Beatmaster Mix) and Sunscreem's Love U More (Album Version). Yes, that version, with that lyric. While those were big hits at the time, they were UK acts, whom folks based out of Toronto and Montreal may not have been as familiar with. To say nothing of names like Bizarre Inc and Rozalla. Actually, I take that back, I'm sure everyone was familiar with Everybody's FREEEEEEEEEEeeeeetoefeelgood by that point. But nay, the only German representation we get here is B.G. The Prince Of Rap, with This Beat Is Hot for the zillionth time. Oh fine, it's the 'hard 'n' heavy' mix, which just sounds like C+C Music Factory.

Forget all that. Dance Pool, Vol. 1 is interesting for how 'of a time' it comes off, catching that weird inflection point where new jack swing was on the outs, but dancehall reggae was on the ins. Thus, you get Shabba Ranks' Ting-A-Ling and Mad Cobra's Flex with Joe Public's Liva And Learn and Cover Girls' Wishing On A Star. And in the middle of it all is Kris Kross' Jump, the rarer Supercat Mix at that, which adds dancehall raps among the bars Mac Daddy and Daddy Mac be spittin'.

And no joke, the tune still bumps to this day. Yeah, it was nauseatingly overplayed when this CD came out, but I dare any DJ to drop this now, and watch the crowd pop off like it was new. Possibly one of the greatest beats Dupri ever produced.

Anything else? C&C Music Factory do show up, as their original producing name Clivillés & Cole, for a ravey cover of Pride (In The Name Of Love). Eesh, and the tune was doing so well, before injecting a gospel version of Bono.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - BTNHResurrection

Sony Music Entertainment: 2000

Feels like I've come full circle with- Ah, nope, not doing that bit again! Still, strange bit of circumstance that as we near this project's inevitable endpoint, I'm reviewing another act that kicked things off so long ago. Pretty sure it's the last of these – I don't have Yes' Captured Live lurking in the wings.

Anyhow, this was the CD that got me hooked on Bone Thugs, almost entirely due to one track. I'd heard their stuff before, thought it interesting for being so different with the double-time raps and harmonized choruses. BTNHResurrection convinced me these Cleveland chaps were operating on a totally different wavelength from contemporary gangstas though. All them others be rapping about getting drunk or stoned or crunk off PCP, but were any of them rapping about getting high off ecstasy? Not as heard on the track Ecstasy, and to a young raver such as I, it blew my mind. I don't know if these Thugs actually indulged in the ol' MDMA, but they sure captured the floaty, loved-up feeling of a good gurn in it, even if some of the lyrics turn weirdly violent at times. Ah, good ol' paranoia from a different kind of trip.

Still, one dope track isn't enough to make a fan of me (most of the time), but BTNHResurrection had plenty more going for it that convinced me these Bone brothers were worth scoping out further. Right from the drop in Show 'Em, they go into the swinging thug-hop, dropping verses as only Bone Thugs can. And hey, Flesh-N-Bone is here! Due to label nonsense, the fifth member of the group only sporadically appeared on prior albums. He gets plenty of space to show his verbal skills here, spitting on nearly every track. Remarkably, he kinda' sounds like Eazy-E, which is only fitting where Bone Thugs are concerned. Shame he'd be incarcerated shortly after this album's release, once again becoming just a mythical fifth member.

So you have your crime-riddin', gun toting street raps (2 Glocks, Murder One, Battlezone), the gettin' money raps (Resurrection (Paper, Paper), Can't Give It Up, Mind On Our Money), and the obligatory weed song (The Weed Song). There's also surprising reflection and future optimism here, as on tracks like, Change The World and Don't Worry, which would have been perfect cuts to end the album on. Unfortunately, three more tunes follow, none of which are bad but hobbles BTNHResurrection's play-through. Ending on a bonus cut of Bizzie Bone getting his mack on with One Night Stand just doesn't leave as lasting impression when compared to the double-shot of Mo' Murda and Shotz To Tha Double Glock on E. 1999 Eternal leaving you cold chillin'.

Re-arrange a few tracks, maybe cut a couple (Souljahs Marching feels redundant no matter what), and you'd have a record talked up just as fondly as any of Bone Thugs' '90s output. Sadly, bad management hobbled Bone Thugs' career in the following decade, and the group's been but a footnote since.

Various - Hits Of The 80's

Sony Music Select: 1993

It was the start of the '90s, and one thing was clear as day: CDs were the dominate medium of music consumption. People liked them for their portability and higher fidelity. Stores liked them for their ease of display and storage. And labels sure as Hell loved 'em for the insane mark-up they got, cheaply produced and sold for $20 a pop, not to mention that whole 'buying music you already had on a newer format' aspect. Them labels though, they weren't all greedy all the time. They knew they had a pile of music in their archives they already made max bank off of many years past, but were still favourites to many. Meanwhile, there remained a significant chunk of the populace who'd buy a CD of familiar music if the price was right. These consumers weren't the sort to scour record shops looking for the radio hits, but should they spot a collection for cheap in a discount bin by the grocery store check-out, well, what harm th'ar be in a $10 impulse buy, eh?

Hits Of The 80's was probably such a buy from it's former owner. Ooh, look, there's The Warrior. There's Bangles. There's Hooters. Recognizable songs, but the local rock radio doesn't play them anymore – too busy pumping out newer jams like Pearl Jam, or Unbelievable, or Pump Up The Jam. As I've said before, it was almost instantaneous in how the '90s music industry rejected anything that sounded like the decade prior, but that didn't mean fans of synth-pop, new wave, and glam metal went away either. Offering quick 'n cheap compilation CDs filled with this stuff was a sure-fire method of squeezing a few more drips of finely ground coin from those left wanting in the era of Spin Doctors.

That said, at ten tracks long, Hits Of The 80's feels skint, even for the cheap-o compilation market. What, couldn't squeeze two extra tunes on here, Sony? It's not like you're left wanting for selections in your archives. And how did they go about choosing which songs got included here anyway? The only thing I can say unites these tracks into any sort of theme is when I listen to it, I think, “Yep, those were hits in the '80s.”

So you get some classic, girl-fronted new wave music like Patti Smyth's The Warrior, Bangles' In Your Room, and 'Til Tuesday's Voices Carry (fun fact: for the longest time, I thought the chorus was “it's so scary”). That strange '80s fad of updating rockabilly is also present, in Cheap Trick's Don't Be Cruel and Adam Ant's Goody Two Shoes. A good ol' power ballad in Warrant's Heaven shows up, while something smoother in Gloria Estefan's Words Get In The Way reminds us there was soul in the '80s too. Oh, and Toto's Africa is on here, which would have made a fun talking point two years ago, before the song was inexplicably and annoyingly memed to death. Damn millennials.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Gospel Hits

Sony BMG Music: 2005

Greetings, Past Peoples. It's been a while, at least from your perspective, that I, Sykonee Of The Year 2073, have graced this region of your 'inter net'. It's been a while for me as well, hopping the various timelines, seeing what events may come and how things may have turned different if things had just gone a little stranger. For instances, did you know there's a time-line where the German Nazis won World War 2 with a little item called the Heisenberg Device? You do? And they made a TV series out of that? Oh, well, that's arctic and all, but you all figured it just fictional, whereas I've seen the reality of it. Or the alternate reality. Sure t'was not mine, and t'is not yours, though whether my reality becomes your reality remains a mystery, don't it. I've noticed a few minor instances of differences of what I knew and where you are, but very little to suggest The Great Divide isn't still on course. No, fret not, the Atomic Brotherhood will carry you through it, saving us from all that unsavoury retrograde Murican business. They look out for their own kind, they do.

Of course and correctly, I'm back here to bring tidings of that indomitable musical force that at least provides our disparate cultures with some common ground of clay, the everlastingness that is The Oak Ridge Boys. We in the Cascadian realm admire them for their contributions to atomic resourcefulness, while those others adore their Jesus, Godly, and Murican themes, reinforcing their beliefs to an almost fanatical degree. It's strange how two cultures can find such different, opposing embracings of enjoyment from the same musical source. You folks in your times could learn a thing about that. Might even prevent what's to come, if you think what I live in isn't to your likening. Haha, just coming with the jokes there; my future is ordained.

So here we are again, with Another Oak Ridge Boys Gospel collection. It's astonishing just how many of these are on the market, isn't it? All with different degrees of quality, content, and presentation. I've been handed a couple impressive ones, a few redundant ones, but this one, this one is a big ol' lie.

Unlike so many other of their gospel collections, this one had some major-proper support from one of the big record companies of old, Sony BMG (eventual subsidiary of Disney-ZTE). The Oakies weren't signed with Sony BMG (eventual subsidiary of Disney-ZTE), but they had gotten a little surged patriotic love in rallying Muricans together in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. What better opportunity, then, than dusting off some rights-held recordings for the quick bucker compilation market?

Thus, even though the cover adorns The Oak Bridge Boys as they were in 2005, everything within is music recorded in the early Nauty Seventies, including when Lil' William Wynn was tenor. Deceived us, Sony BMG (eventual subsidary of Disney-ZTE) has! Should have just shown another church.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Favorite Songs

Sony Music Select: 1992

Greetings, Past-Peoples. It is I, once again, 2073 Sykonee, of the far flung son of a past-man. Not a preacher man, though he did often orate to masses large and small about getting down to Swingtown. He was quite Smooth about it too, but alas, his time came and went, the flocks no longer there to hear his sage Messages In Bottles. Eh? Nah, this didn't happen in my-past/your-future – it's already happened, and cannot be prevented. Folks may enjoy a bar band when visiting their local waterhole, but not many proprietors pay for them, especially 'established musicians', who are well past the point of just looking for a chance to play to a live audience for drinks and gas money.

And yes, we still have bands that go on tours by my time, though very few of them bother with actual instruments anymore. Heckles, I recall it being as such even back thenners, almost all the major new big stars singers and rappers and mumblers and criers. These days, we still get singers and rappers, but also crooners, boxers, and acapellers. With most new music generated automatically to our specific whims via streamloads, the only skill that impresses anyone is what they can do with their voice. You're damn skippy, drippy-hippies, that the Mongolian throat singers took over the Cascadian airwaves like a new horde of dorpeness. Vocalizations is where it's all at in the new-modern.

Which helps explain the enduring popularity of The Oak Ridge Boys for so long. For certain they aren't as dynamic as Afro Veldt-Funk, and it's undeniable they're a product of their time and place, back when the American States weren't so fragmented... until they were again. Hey, the group's existed long enough to see it all, y'all, every rise and fall of all the Empires and Global Dominions.

Naturally, a group as long lasting as this has amassed an extensive discography, one ripe for plundering songs into compilation form. And hoo-Nelly, do The Oak Ridge Boys have themselves a lot of compilations, such that it'd take me to the the end of my time within your time to even scratch that surface. Sykonee Prime assures all that he's gathered for me to review contain unique songs among each release, but I don't trust myself there. No way I could have done that extensive of research into this, especially on a budget.

Favorite Songs sure seems like a raggity-tagged assortment of Oak Ridge Boys tunes though. Ten songs long, it features material mostly from their Nauty-Seventies country period, but only two were actual singles (Loves Me Like A Rock and Rhythm Guitar), neither of which were charting hits. Are these favourite songs from the Boys themselves, then? They sure sound like they're having fun singing them, peppy and swinging as that era's country so often goes. Why, some of it even reminds me of an old fav' of mine, Neil Youngman, though with heavier emphasis on the Jesus stuff.

Inspectah Deck - Uncontrolled Substance

Sony Music Entertainment: 1999

As a rebel without a cause, Inspectah Deck leads the charge, forever one of Wu-Tang Clan’s most fiery spitters, but rushing into battle with no clear objective. He’ll drop that philosophical bomb atomically, but what of the follow-through? With a half-dozen albums deep of evidence, he seldom seemed capable of sustaining that first-strike verbal carnage into a lasting campaign. At least, that used to be the charge laid upon one Mr. Hunter, but his recent work as Czarface having redeemed a solo career that never delivered the classic record hip-hop heads expected of him. Who knew adopting the persona of a cyborg crime-fighting mafia-don that can shoot frickin’ laser beams from his eyes would do the trick? I think Czarface is all about that, if the art is anything to go by. I should look into it.

For now though, let’s check out Uncontrolled Substance, Inspectah’s debut from 1999, four years overdue and coming out when Wu-Tang hype was on the wane. Even getting the whole Clan in to help on a project was proving difficult at that point, most members focusing on solo work while building up their own protégés. Compounding problems further for the Rebel INS was the fact the early demo beats RZA had written for his debut were lost in a studio flood, forcing that album to be scrapped and started over. Yes, we were denied vintage mid-‘90s RZA beats with Deck undoubtedly spitting fire over them all, with the full Clan in support.

Instead, we get okay beats from RZA protégés 4th Disciple and True Master, though Deck’s own productions outshine most of theirs. RZA himself provides a pair of beats too, though are far from his glorious early, gritty sounds. Guest spots from the Wu fam’ are sadly minimal, with U-God and Masta Killa only offering a couple verses, and a few additional guest spots from second-tier affiliates like Street Life and Killa Sin.

Ultimately, it’s all on the Rebel INS to carry Uncontrolled Substance, and he does excel there, mostly dominated by battle-raps no one else in the Clan can top, with other stuff mixing things up throughout. There’s hood tales like Word On The Street and Trouble Man (with Pete Rock funk at the board on that one); clubbier offerings like R.E.C. Room and Movas & Shakers (why can’t I ever get Deck’s lyrics of “Bartender! Two Kahlua and milk with crushed ice in the blender” out of my head?); conscious diatribes like The Cause and Elevation (with a Deck beat that was reused in Ghostface’s Supreme Clientele); and some jams for the ladies too (Lovin You, Forget Me Not, and the slinky noir-funk of Femme Fatale… wait, that’s two reviews in a row with a Femme Fatale… the odds, mang!). Strangely, it’s a couple interludes, where Inspectah’s freestyling over a pounding 808 beat, that get me charged the most. They’re only ten seconds each, but damn if I wouldn’t pay good money to hear a full record of that!

Various - This Beat Is Hot... The Compilation

Sony Music Entertainment: 1991

Not the first and most definitely not the last time a hit single was used for the launch of a compilation. Did Dance Pool have any long-term plan with this? Like, could This Beat Is Hot go on to become a running series? Would every subsequent B.G. hit earn its own compilation? Damn, we could have had a Colour Of My Dreams series, a Can We Get Enough? series, and a Stomp series! That didn’t happened, but it still boggles my mind that The Prince Of Rap’s This Beat Is Hot was hot enough to earn a compilation based on it. I don’t recall the track having any presence here in Canada, and believe me we weren’t oblivious to charting dance hits from Europe in the early ‘90s (C&C Music Factory, Black Box, Snap!, 2 Unlimited).

But a compilation named after his breakout single B.G. The Prince Of Rap done did get, marketed across both continents for maximum profit margins. This entailed giving both America and Canada different track lists compared to the European version. Like, radically different, to the point they’re almost completely seperate CDs. Hell, even the title track, This Beat Is Hot, has different mixes between the two, us folks in the Western Hemisphere treated to an extended Get Into The Rhythm Club Mix over the radio friendly 7” Remix on the east side of the Atlantic. Oh, and the track actually properly kicks our compilation off, whereas poor B.G. is relegated to third-track status in Europe. On the compilation named after his hit single!

C&C Music Factory’s Here We Go got the pole position in Europe, but we didn’t get that track at all over here, nor second track Let’s Go Back from Sake Stars, middle track Fue Amor from Jazzy Mel & Marcello Figueras, and final four tracks Shine On from Sold Out, What Is This Thing Called Love? from Alexander O’Neal, Bright Lights from Victoria Wilson-James, and Daddy’s Little Girl from Nikki D. Both versions do get a Culture Beat tune, but us folks are treated to I Like You versus them folks enjoying No Deeper Meaning.

I won’t get into the additional differences between the American and Canadian versions, though we do share Lil’ Louis’ French Kiss, Secchi’s I Say Yeah, and Double Dee’s Found Love. Exclusives to Canuckistan residents include world beaty Shamen’s Call from Dance 2 Trance side-project Peyote, Dana Dawson’s Tell Me Bonita, and Céline Dion’s Unison, a horrendous stab at penetrating the lucrative gay house scene any vocal diva worth her salt was shooting for. Seriously, those… snares, utter rubbish, and hearing a rap alongside Ms. Dion clashes in all the cringiest ways.

Oh yeah, the music! Lots of hip-house in its last throes before morphing into euro-house, some italo-house, and ample soul singin’ with funky grooves. This Beat Is Hot is a fun little CD for some throwback music, but if few of the tunes I named above ring a bell, it’s for good reason, that.

Willie Nelson - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1994/2004

This, above all else, is about as country as I'll ever get. Yeah, there's that Johnny Cash CD, but he always flirted with rock and blues too (why, he even, Walked The- *slap*). There's Neil Young too, but his country dalliances are incidental to his larger body of work, hardly representative of the music as a whole. Willie Nelson though, there's no escaping his roots, the guy about as country as country could cu-

I suppose if there's any particular style of the Western scene I can get behind, it's the “Outlaw Country” side of things. Along with Johnny and Willie, this also included Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson – a supergroup dubbing them The Highwaymen – offering a rebellious slant to the staunch traditionalism of Nashville. Other ‘outlaw’ sorts included Jessi Colter, Tompall Glaser, and Hank Williams, Jr., and it gave country a much needed kick in the cajoles after so many years of the same ol’ twang. They cultivated an image of being out on the open road, away from the homestead, exploring the great untamed lands of America while longing for their one true love wherever she may be. Also, a lot of reckless substance consumption. That's probably why I decided I should get Willie Nelson's Collections, his lax stance on marijuana use an easy sell for a Sykonee who was still a little chronic in his life. Okay, and he has a sweet, soothing croon to go with his music, a kindly old uncle vibe that you look forward to seeing out on a ranch somewhere in Arizona.

Collections mostly covers Willie’s career from the mid-‘70s through the ‘80s, about when he adopted the grizzled, bearded hippie look we associate with him now. What, you thought he was like that right from the get-go? Hell no, mang, just take a gander at his album covers from the ‘60s. Guy looked about as preppy a country singer could back in those days, which I can’t help but wonder whether it was forced upon him by RCA. It might have explained that early ‘retirement’ as the ‘70s took hold. In any case, after a brief stint with Atlantic Records, he joined up with Columbia, completing this transformation to the outlaw crooner of yore and a’fore.

The music on Collections is vintage Willie. Um, I suppose. I don’t know jack about his songs. A couple I do recognize off here, like On The Road Again and Georgia On My Mind, probably heard in movies or other ‘best of’ showcases for Mr. Nelson’s material. A decent assortment of country is on here, from ballads (Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain, Always On My Mind) to honky-tonk (Nothing I Can Do About It Now, City Of New Orleans), and songs with orchestrated production (My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys, Living In The Promiseland). To my untrained ears though, these all just sound like country standards with Willie’s distinctive voice singing. Considering many of these are covers, maybe that’s all there is to it.

Marvin Gaye - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 2001/2004

It’s just not fair. Marvin Gaye had turned things around in his life, looked primed to take the ‘80s by storm after struggling for much of the previous decade. Columbia got him out of his Motown contract, plus all the promotional perks that came with being on the label, and he provided them with an instant classic with Sexual Healing, for which he won all sorts of awards and accolades for. If he could keep that mojo going, the three album deal with Columbia might have brought us a trilogy of the greatest modern R&B music ever written, no small feat in a decade that saw the emergence of tons of smooth, soulful crooners. But no, the cruelty of the fates decreed that he'd be murdered by his own father in an argument, denying the world the heart-warming tale of musical triumph over bitter tragedy. No wonder that Marvin Gaye biopic has struggled to get greenlit – who'd want to watch something so depressing?

As a means of completing that three album contract, two posthumous records were released by Columbia. The first, Dream Of A Lifetime, used various recordings from the Midnight Love sessions (aka: the Sexual Healing LP) in making a follow-up to that highly successful album. The third, Romantically Yours, gathered earlier sessions from aborted projects during Gaye's Motown days, creating something of a throw-back candlelight soul album in the process. It stands quite in contrast to the previous two, using traditional instrumentation over the electronic beats and production of Midnight and Dream. These weren't cash grabs either, producers and long-time collaborators Gordon Banks and Harvey Fuqua aiming to honor Gaye’s memory, with the albums intended as a love-letter to his fans.

Thus, when it came time for ol’ Marvin to have his honorary Super Hits/Collections, there wasn’t a heck of a lot for Columbia to choose from. Obviously Sexual Healing is here, but what else from these albums generated some chart action for the Gaye estate? Funky Sanctified Lady was the other major one, which features vocoder action no less. More interesting is the original title, Sanctified Pussy, which can still be heard from Gaye in a muffled sort of way.

That’s about it for singles though. I haven’t a clue how Columbia went about compiling this CD, why they chose the tracks they did. It’s a very small sample of Gaye’s discography, though does provide a respectable overview of his talents, even if more than half of this track list is heavy with the early ‘80s funk and soul. And if you’re looking for his vintage sound, the latter portions with orchestras and lounge jazz croon is fine. I guess.

Sorry, I don’t have nearly enough experience with his ‘60s and ‘70s output to know if songs like Walkin’ In The Rain and Stranger In My Life hold up. Y’all are probably better off springing for a comprehensive greatest hits or box set (again) if you’re after a proper Gaye experience.

Loverboy - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1997/2004

I've gone on and on about how much I canned The Police and Boney M as a toddler, but a third act got significant play too: Loverboy. Okay, it was in fact just one song, Turn Me Loose, which I had to operate my father's reel-to-reel rig to hear. My memory's hazy on the exact age (at least pre-school), but I gotta' hand it to my younger self for figuring out that contraption, just to hear those early synths, catchy chorus, and thumping tom drums. And the way it builds, mang, layers of guitars and synths and drums, with key changes for solos, it all blew my young mind. At five thirty-eight in length, Turn Me Loose may as well have been a prog rock epic, and boy did I ever take every chance to play it again, when I wasn't distracted by toys and picture books and TV and backyard bush forts. Ah, the hectic life of the four year old.

That’s just one perspective though. For many, Loverboy came to represent ‘80s rock at its best without crossing that terrible line of banal corporate radio cheese. They were shameless in giving us arena anthems, and though they rocked the hot coloured leather pants, they never went full hair metal either. They’ve been immortalized on Saturday Night Live, their other huge hit Working For The Weekend featured in the classic Swayze-Farley ‘Chippendales’ skit. Yeah, that’s now two bands I’ve covered in this Collections series that have been featured on SNL. Just a coincidence, I’m su- wait, Lord Discogs is telling me something. Oh my God, there’s a radio vinyl with both Loverboy and Blue Öyster Cult concert material on it! This is too weird. It must be Columbia promotions doing this. The defunct label’s getting back at me for never taking them upon their penny deals!

Whereas Johnny Cash had too large a discography for Collections to do him justice, and Dr. Hook had too few albums available due to label politics, Loverboy’s reign is just about perfect for the ten track limit. Almost all of their singles from the ‘80s make the cut, only missing out on early tune The Kid Is Hot Tonite (at the time way overshadowed by Turn Me Loose and Working For The Weekend), Jump (there’s only one worthy Jump from the early ‘80s), and Lovin’ Every Minute Of It (wait, what?).

If you’re not familiar with the rest of Loverboy’s singles, here’s the obligatory run-down: When It’s Over is a pseudo follow-up to Turn Me Loose. Take me To The Top has some chunky synth work. Hot Girls In Love is typical ‘80s cock rock. Lucky Ones needs a Rocky montage but not as much as Queen Of The Broken Hearts and Strike Zone, while Dangerous and ballad This Could Be The Night has the hallmarks of a rock band succumbing to hair metal tropes.

But hey, Loverboy helped usher in the synth-heavy rock anthem era of that decade. They were the ‘80s!

Johnny Cash - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1994/2004

On the other hand, when faced with a daunting discography like Johnny Cash’s, having limited access to an artist's discography can help ultra-cheap hits packages like Collections. He wrote, performed, and released music at a remarkable clip for much of his early career, finally slowing down once the '80s hit (damn you, '80s!). While you can point to a number of solid standouts that are obligatory in any retrospective (Ring Of Fire, Walk The Line, Folsom Prison Blues), paring everything down to a mere ten is ridiculous. Only a box set buffet could do The Man In Black justice, but I’m not that interested in his music, so this morsel of an appetizer will suffice.

Even having this seems more a point of necessity, no music collection respectable without one of the giants of country music within. Yes, even if you can’t stand the thought of twangy crooners. Mr. Cash carved out a unique niche within that music culture, a gravely baritone, free prison concerts, and somewhat reckless lifestyle painting him as a classic Western outlaw. Nor was he strictly a country performer either, jumping between rockabilly, blues, and gospel tunes whenever the inspiration hit him, the disparate genres often blending together in his music. He was among the first in taking country out of its insular Nashville scene, exporting it to audiences who’d have little other interest in what all them cowboys were singing about. There’s a whole lot more I could get into, but I’d quickly run out of self-imposed word count. Maybe read one of the many biographies out there. Or watch one of the many documentaries. Or a biopic or two.

I’ll probably never delve into Mr. Cash’s discography enough to figure out what his essential works are, so I’ve no idea whether the selection of Collections does him justice. It obviously has his two breakout hits in I Walk The Line and Folsom Prison Blues, both from his 1957 debut With His Hot And Blue Guitar. From the following year is Big River from the album Sings the Songs That Made Him Famous and I Still Miss Someone from The Fabulous Johnny Cash. Yeah, country album titles weren’t terribly creative back in the day. Eh, where’s Ring Of Fire among all these, you ask? (no, pretend you did) That came later, released in ’63, when Cash signed to Columbia, and appearing on the album Ring Of Fire: The Best Of Johnny Cash. Man, great song titles, but lousy ones for LPs, every time.

The rest of Collections rounds up some of Cash’s more well known tunes and covers of the late ‘60s, including a live prison performance of the hilarious A Boy Named Sue. Capping things off is a ’76 cover of the Wayne Kemp number One Piece At A Time. Man, this recording’s far too polished for a capper on this version of The Man In Black story. Why couldn’t the original Super Hits have come out after he’d done Hurt?

Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Collections

Sony Music Entertainment: 2001/2004

Making a greatest hits package for the southern rock act Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show was a no-brainer, the '70s replete with their memorable tunes. Whether early oddball jams or latter radio-ready fodder, any label would have plenty to choose from. Except Sony, who only had access Hooky's first three albums on Columbia. After switching over to Capitol – and dropping “The Medicine Show” for legal purposes – Dr. Hook saw much greater success, even if their quirkiness was sanded off in the process. This puts Collections into something of a conundrum, getting hands on the group's break-out hit and most memorable hit but denied the bulk of actual charting singles. The only recourse is filling the majority of this 'super hits' CD with songs that really aren't hits at all. Maybe it'll at least give a decent overview of Dr. Hook's beginnings then.

Before getting into those beginnings though, we must talk pre-beginnings, specifically the most famous face of Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show, and what’s up with his look (yes, the guy on the cover). The man was born Ray Sawyer, and had bounced around music gigs before growing dissatisfied with the whole thing. Deciding to do the right thing – the proper societal thing – he set out to Oregon to find his way in the wide world of logging. One car crash later, he lost his eye, and concluded the rock Gods wanted him back in the music world. And that’s why we always think of Dr. Hook as that guy with the eye-patch, massive side-burns and country hat, even though George Cummings was the main architect of the group, with Sawyer a contributing guitarist and vocalist. Ol’ Ray was never the actual Dr. Hook, though the band’s name was inspired by the eyepatch he wore, thoughts of pirates and connecting Captain Hook to the image. Yeah, that doesn’t make sense, but then drugs, y’know?

Of course, the other reason everyone thinks of Sawyer as Dr. Hook is he does vocals on their most famous hit, Cover Of The “Rolling Stone”. It tells the tale of finding all the fame and fortune of being a superstar rock band, but still suffering the indignity of never making the cover of the respectable magazine. Before that came out though, there was Sylvia’s Mother, a southern rock ballad that’s more representative of the music most associate with Dr. Hook. I doubt it’s been covered by as many burgeoning bands as Cover Of The “Rolling Stone” has.

As for specifics, four songs come from their first album (Sylvia’s Mother, honky-tonk Makin’ It Natural, pervy I Call That True Love, tender Kiss It Away), four from their second (fetish love-in Freaker’s Ball, country-blues Carry Me, Carrie, ultra-Nashville If I’d Only Come And Gone, plus ”Rolling Stone”), and two from the third (bar sing-along Life Ain’t Easy, generic ballad You Ain’t Got the Right). Yeah, these guys can run the gamut of topics and styles. Sweet harmonies too.

Blue Öyster Cult - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1998/2004

Blue Öyster Cult is a famous hard rock band from the ‘70s, and a very important group in the popularization of cowbell. No, wait, that was a Saturday Night Live skit with Christopher Walken and Will Ferrell, playing up the fact BÖC’s best known song has an incredibly distracting cowbell in it. Seriously, have you ever heard (Don’t Fear) The Reaper? What am I saying; of course you have, especially on your Classic Rock station, where you can hear all the songs from your dad’s (grandpa’s?) youth. It’s not like these blue cultists cultivated the cowbell, most of their songs almost devoid of it (at least what’s on this Collections CD anyway). For such a smooth slice of stoner rock though, hearing that *clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk* in the percussion is obtrusive, jarring, and perfectly ripe for comedic send-ups. It’s just a shame a whole generation now only thinks of Blue Öyster Cult as that cowbell band. Don’t folks know they’re actually that Godzilla band?

Seriously though, BÖC’s story reads about as cliché as most rock bands of the era goes. Started out doing psychedelic rock, got a bit darker and heavier when Black Sabbath became a thing, scored a major radio hit (The Reaper, yo'), and started chasing them dolla' bills after such success. Naturally, it alienated their long-standing fanbase, and they were quickly abandoned by all but the most dedicated of followers. Even a return to form in the '80s couldn't turn their fortunes, and soon the band was relegated to the has-been bargain bin of your record shops, an occasional glimpse of recognition afforded them when getting in on a '90s stoner soundtrack. Hey, I told you this was a standard story.

Fortunately for Collections, we’re mostly dealing with their early-to-mid ‘70s material, only two songs making the cut from the ‘80s. Of the latter decade selections, Burnin’ For You is probably the only other Blue Öyster Cult hit you’ve heard of, even if you didn’t realize it was a Blue Öyster Cult hit. Elsewhere Black Blade sounds like a stab at Who or Queen on the operatic bent, but they work in bloopy synths and an actual vocoder (!) for an energetic climax, so it’s awesome.

As for the rest, there’s Rolling Stones boogie rock (This Ain’t The Summer Love), chipper proto-punk rock (The Red And The Black), weird classic bar rock (O.D.’d On Life Itself), and lengthy freak-out psychedelic rock (7 Screaming Diz-Busters) – these all came from their second album, Tyranny And Mutation. Damn, guess that’s the Blue Öyster Cult album you’re supposed to have, even if it doesn’t have (Don’t Fear) The Reaper on it. There’s also Flaming Telepaths from Secret Treaties, which fears no piano, chorus, guitar solo, or dated synth too overblown or garish, but a lot more fun than pompous prog rockers go. What’s with the hard cut though? Did the original smash into Astronomy, or does the single intentionally leave you hanging like that? C’mon, BÖC, who’s the joke on? I gotta’ know!

Raekwon - Immobilarity

Sony Music Entertainment (Canada): 1999

It all starts somewhere, and for yours truly, Raekwon’s Immobilarity was the one that got me taking hip-hop seriously. For sure stronger albums that could have done the trick existed (including, of course, Raekwon’s first album, Only Built For Cuban Linx), but by and large I regarded the world of rap music as something rather gimmicky. The biggest hits were typically crossover party jams, and the stuff my peers played to piss off our parents over-glamorized gangsta tropes and sexual misogyny to the point of ridiculousness. Thank God The RZA Hits came along when it did, shoving some musical knowledge into my ears in the process. While it clued me into the ‘musical’ potential of the genre, soon I wised onto the ‘intellectual’ potential too.

Raekwon’s sophomore effort dropped about the same time as The RZA Hits, and, eager to quickly consume more Wu, I checked it out, promptly blown away yet again. This wasn’t some cliché ridden gangsta bullshit; rather, something far more mature in tone and concept was going on, painting an elaborate story of established criminals trying to survive in an ever-changing game. Immobilarity was hardly the first hip-hop album to do this, but it was the first that I properly heard.

Raekwon’s debut had the benefit of the Wu still being something of the streets, thus their tales of criminology still had a degree of honesty to them. In the four years following it, however, the group had conquered the globe, and it just didn’t make sense to still rap about roughin’ it to get by. They were made-men now, so to take the concept of ‘criminology raps’ to the next level (not to mention distance themselves from all the copy-cats), Raekwon changed the concept of Wu-gambinos to reflect that. They’re at the top now (or very near it), and they have to protect what’s theirs from all the up-and-coming hustlers. Maybe even find a way out of the game altogether, if the opportunity arises. If Cuban Linx could be considered a Scarface tribute, then Immobilarity is Godfather.

That could have made for an incredible album, if not for weighty expectations holding it down: heads only wanting Cuban Linx, Pt. 2, and RZA’s absence in the producer’s chair. Instead, we get a slew of relatively unknowns (sans Pete Rock) using rather cheap-sounding drum kits coupled with loops of heavily synthesized Mediterranean music (especially Chris Spheeris). Maybe it’s my Italian heritage, but I love hearing these loops, perfectly complementing Raekwon’s crime stories, but I can understand why others would dismiss Immobilarity on these ground, at least back in the day.

Now that hindsight’s clued folks up that RZA wouldn’t be on every Wu release (and we did get Cuban Linx, Pt. 2), folks have since softened on this album. Problems remain that keep it from being a hidden gem in the Wu discography (too much filler in the end; the beats still lack), but Immobilarity’s a worthy pick-up if you prefer your hip-hop having sophistication and class.

Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2

Sony Music Direct: 1995

One year. That's all it took for euro dance to plummet from its perch. I'm sure sales held just fine, but stagnation had set in. All the charming attributes of the genre eroded away, in its place a shallow shell of glories past. Okay, that's not quite accurate, and the only evidence I'm providing for the argument is this CD. But oh, when we're through...

First, some positives. The opening half of Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2 features a couple returning acts from the first one, namely DJ Company and The Free. Actually, scratch that as a positive – their tracks aren't nearly as good as the ones featured on the previous edition, incredibly generic compared to their original hits. That right there is the problem: all these euro groups became streamlined, homogenized. There’s no distinctiveness or personality among them anymore. On Volume One, you could definitely hear the difference between DJ Company and The Free - now they could be Taboo or Unique for all I can tell. Still, that Look Twice tune makes a good effort to stand out.

The production quality’s the main culprit amongst all these tunes though. The beats sound cheap and flat, many making use of an annoying *tckock-tckock* kick. The hooks are almost non-existent beyond bleating nonsense. And why's this stuff so bloody fast? Yeah, euro often had a quick pace, but this is almost at eurobeat speeds, or even... dear God, you're not taking notes from happy hardcore now, are you!? No, that's not it at all. The raps, they're totally different now. Ragga raps. Wait a damn minute; these are nothing but Maxx rip-offs! Fuck you, Maxx Berman.

And that’s not even the worst of it. Nearly half the tracks are covers of songs that have no business getting covered into dance music. The Gipsy Kings’ Bamboleo doesn't need one. Elvis doesn't need another one. Holy hell, The Sex Pistols unquestionably don't need it! Is this because N-Trance had that stupid hit with Stayin' Alive, so now every two-bit euro producer's trying to cash in?

Ironically, one of the best tunes on Volume 2 is a cover, Dance Floor Virus’ Message In A Bottle (they even released a whole album of Police covers). The tune itself is about as you’d expect of a euro update, but sweet Jesus does singer Filippo Neviani ever nail the vocals! I recall playing this to my old man, about as big a Police fan that I knew of at the time, and he was impressed by how Sting’s cadence was captured. Heck, even ol’ Gordon himself thought it was his own voice that had been sampled. It definitely was a huge selling point for this CD, one of the key tracks played out on advertisements.

But nay, the series died after this, and the regular Dance Pool one shortly afterwards here in Canada. Sony then turned to the poor man’s Chris Sheppard - MC Mario - for their commercial dance mixes here. B’ah...

Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 1

Sony Music Direct: 1995

Alright, enough of that noodly ambient-Age stuff. Let's get back to fun music again, specifically euro dance, circa. 1994. A major player at the time was Dance Pool, Sony's subdivision for all things club orientated. The label's reach was far indeed, often responsible for mainland Europe distribution of several key dance releases while cultivating a roster of their own, including Jam & Spoon, B.G. The Prince Of Rap, and Culture Beat.

Thus, when Sony tested the dance waters here in good ol' Canuckaland, many of their releases carried the Dance Pool stamp. May as well, since that upstart Quality and competitor BMG were cashing in on a genre of music that Sony was boss at in Europe. Get a little promotion on MuchMusic’s Electric Circus, and you’re set. The first few volumes had a mix of big euro hits, house smashes, and even hip-hop (Kriss Kross, really!?). Oh, and some oddities cropped up too, like Deep Forest's Sweet Lullaby and remixes of Céline Dion's Misled and The Philosopher Kings’ Charm. Da’ fuq’...?

Yeah, the Dance Pool series didn’t do nearly as well as Canada’s other successful ‘90s dance compilations thanks to such wonky tracklists, but a few memorable releases did find their way to store shelves. Like other euro compilations, Euro Dance Pool went out of its way in bringing over cuts lighting up clubs overseas, but were perhaps not as well known on American shores.

Though this CD was released in ’95, all the tracks were from the year prior, when, as far as I’m concerned, euro dance was at its best. The genre still had ties to the hip-house and Belgian beat it originally drew influence from (re: ripped off), so the bass often had solid shoulder-shufflin’ action while punchy riffs dominated - oh, and raps plus a bird belting out the chorus, but you already knew that. By ’94 though, the sounds of trance were creeping into the scene, which makes sense since a lot of old school trance producers would make a track or three for easy cash. As a result, spacey pad work, stuttering background synths, and galloping rhythms became de facto attributes for euro hit after euro hit. Me likes a lot, and Volume 1 has it in droves.

There’s big, obvious hits like B.G.’s Colour Of My Dreams (though given a very trancey rub), DJ Company’s Rhythm Of Love, and an ode to drunk-dialing (maybe), Lover On The Line by The Free - actually, if the video's anything to go by, it was a bad acid trip. Speaking of fun, daft euro videos, Pharao’s There Is A Star is a right hoot! Elsewhere, Jam & Spoon pop up with their cornball-rave pseudonym Tokyo Ghetto Pussy, the Abfarht team contributes with a Kim Sanders cut, and solid one-offs round out the rest (sans an annoying 2wo Third3 ‘pop’ cut). Overall, Euro Dance Pool’s a fun compilation, showcasing some of the best the genre had to offer.

And it dove right off a cliff after...

Deep Forest - Essence Of The Forest

Sony Music: 2003

Several folks enjoyed Deep Forest's take on world beat when they first emerged, but as the duo edged further from Western beats and deeper into local traditions, general interest in their output significantly dwindled. Add me to that group, and I was one of the few out there that actually enjoyed Boheme, scattershot faults and all. When Comparsa came out though, it came off a hodgepodge of any culture Mouquet and Sanchez were influenced by on their last tour, yet sounding like nothing at all. Granted, I didn't give it more than a cursory listen, as my ears had drifted away from the pop side of world beat, finding fresher sounds from Banco de Gaia and the like. I hadn't paid attention to a Deep Forest production since that lacklustre impression.

Then Essence Of The Forest came out. Hm, a greatest hits collection sounds interesting, and there's even updated remixes of all the selected tunes from Deep Forest. Wow, they'd released two albums since Comparsa? I guess it wouldn't hurt to pick this up. It'd be interesting to hear what they'd been up to, and maybe I'd been too hard on Comparsa. After all, this collection features the best cuts from their albums, right? Eh, I'm not sure.

Obviously Sweet Lullaby's the first track, and the lead single off Boheme - Marta's Song - goes second. After that though, the music culled from the first two albums turns weird. Deep Forest gets two more tracks updated, Desert Walk and Night Bird. The former, I can see, as it was a pleasant downtempo tune, but I found White Whisper, Savana Dance, and the titular cut more memorable than Night Bird. And to be blunt, most of the selections chosen from Boheme were tunes I've never liked. The dark, mysterious gypsy songs Gathering, Bohemian Ballet, and Cafe Europa, those were ace! Instead, we get Lament and Freedom Cry because... why? They're different from those other tunes? Meh, oh well, at least Twosome's on here.

What of the other tracks then? Honestly, given the selections from the first two, I've no idea whether they're the cream of the crop off their respective albums. What I can say is those not familiar with Music Detected will be stunned at the change of sound, with a major focus on R&B, funk, and soul. Getting blunty with it again, it's a total clash with the world beat throughout Essence Of The Forest, as all the tracks are mixed among each other. Some of it's good, for sure, and neat to hear Deep Forest stretching out, but incredibly out of place sitting beside African pygmies and Bulgarian gypsies (not to mention the mish-mash of cultures from Comparsa).

I wouldn’t bother with Essence Of The Forest if you’re looking for more Sweet Lullabys (although you do get two versions on here!). It’s a better pick-up if you’re only curious of their output since their debut without actually listening to the other albums.