Neil Young - Chrome Dreams II

Reprise Records: 2007

I do wonder, if this may be my last Neil Young review. Like, I'll get Archives Vol. 3 whenever that comes out (surely before the heat death of the universe), but far as mainline albums go, I've gotten just about all I've ever cared to get (and then some). What's even left? His wayward '80s material? More Crazy Horse jams from the '90s? That ultra middle-of-the-road music from the turn of the century? The almost insufferably preachy albums with Promise Of The Real? Maybe at some point, I'll take a nibble - Mirror Ball's gotta' be in some used shops - but I'm in no need either. If Chrome Dreams II truly is the last time I write about a mainline album from ol' Shakey, it's a suitable bowing.

For those just tuning into this electronic music blog's inexplicable, excessive coverage of Neil Young, Chrome Dreams was a '70s album that may have gone down as an all-time classic of rock and folk music. In typical Neil fashion though, it was scuttled for something more slapdash, persistent musings of 'what if?' lingering over his catalogue ever since. When the Young team started putting together the first Archives collection, I'm sure some quips came about maybe releasing that album as once intended.

Then Neil would chuckle to himself, saying, “How about I release a sequel instead, with songs I still haven't released from back in the day?” His team would look at him, concern crossing their face, fearing what mischievous ideas Neil was cooking: “Um, how far 'back in the day', exactly?” Mr. Young's eyes sparkled. “Remember that stuff I did with the Blue Notes...?”

And so, not only did Neil unearth the live-only Ordinary People from his big-band blues period, but recorded an eighteen-minute long session of it! The song ended up being his longest track committed to disc to that point (Arc doesn't count), and wouldn't be exceeded until the uber-jams of Psychedelic Pill. I think it's cool – hearing his wild guitar distortion with a triumphant brass section is quite invigorating – but I know I'm kinda' in a minority in actually liking the Blue Notes stuff. Yes, even among Rusties.

That's the only song like that on Chrome Dreams II though, and oddly placed at track three, leaving one exhausted for the rest of the album. The ramp-up was nice, a couple country folkies including Beautiful Bluebird. A couple more country folkies follow Ordinary People, then we're into some Crazy Horse styled rawk, even if it's only Ralph Molina on hand. Dirty Old Man sounds like a dumber, drunker version of Piece Of Crap, and at over fourteen minutes in length, No Hidden Path drags some – maybe needed the proper-Horse for that one.

Some more gentle tunes round out the rest, and you have yet another Vintage Neil Young mish-mash of clashing styles album, not seen since Freedom. If only Chrome Dreams II had its own Rockin' In The Free World, it'd be a classic.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 10 - Odeon Budokan (1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

What a strange way to end Archives, Vol. 2. True, nothing could beat the triumphant cap of Vol. 1 that included all the chart-topping and critically lauded Harvest material, but a live album? And not just a live album, but recordings from overseas shows in London and Tokyo? I guess in keeping with the 'three Performance Series per Archives' theme, we'd get one exclusive to the box-set like Live At The Riverboat. This wasn't separately released prior, and I see no official plans to do so after.

If the timeline is to be believed, these shows were performed after Neil had joined Stephen Stills in Miami for their Stills-Young Band sessions, but before abandoning Crazy Horse to tour with Stephen instead. So in the course of a couple months, ol' Shakey had travelled from California, to Florida, to Japan, to the U.K. and back to Florida. Long may you run indeed, but not if you're gonna' burn both ends while burning your friends along the way.

As this disc is a cobble-lation of two shows performed literally half a world apart, it's appropriately broken up between the two. Oddly, they're not in chronological order, the London shows first, followed by the Tokyo jams after. My only assumption here is Odeon Budokan wants to recapture the same sequencing as Rust Never Sleeps, acoustic numbers opening the LP, then closing out with Crazy Horse 'rawkers'. To be fair, that's how Neil's concerts with Crazy Horse went regardless, I just have no idea why all the acoustic material comes from Odeon, and all the rock from Budokan. Just a happenstance of where the better recordings were?

So the acoustic set has some familiar tunes (Old Man, The Old Laughing Lady, After The Goldrush ...I'm honestly quite burnt out hearing that one on these live albums), plus a couple then-unreleased songs in Too Far Gone and Stringman. What's funny about these is you can really tell the unfamiliarity of them with the London crowd. Exuberant cheers upon hearing the first notes of the recognizable songs, then almost dead silence with the other two, save a polite applause after they're finished. Considering they wouldn't be officially released until way later, I'm sure Neil got a kick out of confusing the casuals in the crowd with them.

I'm not sure how familiar the Japanese crowd was with the freshly released Zuma record either, but they seemed to enjoy the rowdy rockers just the same. They also get a version of Cowgirl In The Sand, which isn't quite up to the epic outing as heard on Live At The Fillmore East, nor as tight as heard in later live albums with Crazy Horse. It was Frank Sampedro's earliest concerts with the group though, so just needed a little more time to fully mesh. Either that, or this was one of the supposed shows he'd taken acid at. Oh, hippie-rockers, never change.

And that's a wrap on Archives, Vol. 2! Join me again for Archives, Vol. 3, due for release ...whenever it gets released, I guess.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 9 - Look Out For My Love (1975-1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

Full confession: the period between Zuma and Rust Never Sleeps is mostly a blank for yours truly. Granted, only two albums came out in that time (well, two and a half, but I'll get to that), with only two songs from them considered 'Essential Rustie Material'. One of them is the guitar epic Like A Hurricane, which I already have on the live album Weld, so no point in getting the scattershot American Stars 'n Bars just for that. The other is the country-leaning Comes A Time, from the album of the same name. I don't have that, but am not in any real hurry to ever get it. The tune's fine, just not on my 'must have' list, much less the record it comes from.

Disc nine of Archives, Vol. 2 doesn't reach quite that far though, capping this collection off in 1976. The first few tunes that open things are more Crazy Horse songs that likely would have featured on the vaporware album Chrome Dreams, including Like A Hurricane. Following that are two love songs, Lotta Love, and Look Out For My Love. The most surprising thing about these, at least for me, is they actually sound different from each other, Lotta Love more a loungy tune while Look Out For My Love inching closer to country.

Actually-actually, what's really surprising is Look Out For My Love was chosen for the title of this disc, and not just because Like A Hurricane is the more obvious choice. No, it's odd because this disc heavily features songs from the short-lived pairing between him and Stephen Stills, The Stills-Young Band.

Yep, despite quite the on-again, off-again musical relationship, the former Buffalo Springfield lads decided to give it another go in the studio. Story goes Mr. Stills was already in the works with a solo joint of his own, then had Neil over to hear some of the songs. Neil apparently got quite inspired with the tunes, such that he abandoned a tour with Crazy Horse to work with Stephen. Harsh, bro, but hey, maybe some truly kinetic jams would emerge from these sessions to rival even their work with Crosby and Nash. They even brought them in for some backing tracks, perhaps leading to a full-on CSNY reunion, but it was not to be, Stills and Young scrubbing their voices from the finished product. Harsh, bro, but hey, at least the forthcoming tour featuring Stephen and Neil would lead to some dynamite guitar action to hear. Except in typical Neil fashion, he flaked on his friend mid-tour, with one of the most classic kiss-off notes left behind. HARSH, bro!

As for the resultant songs, they're mostly pleasant rock, some leaning blues, some leaning country, but all sounding quite clean and polished compared to most of Neil's body of work. So much so, that songs like Ocean Girl and Midnight On The Bay could even be considered... *sigh* Yacht Rock. Of course Neil did a Yacht Rock.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 8 - Dume (1975)

Reprise Records: 2020

So I thought I would be skipping this disc as well. I mean, just look at the cover art: it's basically Zuma all over again, and indeed, eight of that album's nine songs appear on here. Yet that's only half of the musical content contained within, the rest versions of songs that wouldn't be heard in LP form until at least Rust Never Sleeps. And even then, we get different versions here, so wholly unique items exclusive to Archives, Vol. 2. Welp, guess that settles that.

If you've been keeping up with your handy-dandy Neil Young time-line mega-diary, you'd know this was about the point where his long-time backing band of Crazy Horse finally found themselves a worthy successor to the fallen Danny Whitten. Like, don't get me wrong, Nils Lofgren was a fine stand-in for the time he was there, but the musical wonderkid was a bit too talented to be playing rhythm guitar in an unabashed, undeniably average garage rock band.

Frank “Poncho” Sampedro, however, fit perfectly snug into the roll, in large part to already being a massive fan of the group's '60s work with Neil. Intimately familiar with their classics such that he could easily jam away with Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina, all he had to do was prove himself to the mighty Young as well, which he done did while the boys partied the nights away in Malibu. Guess that's why Archives has titled this disc Dume, the name of the other cove and beach in that region. The more famous one, of course, being Zuma Beach. What, did you think the 1975 album was titled that because of something Aztecan related? Haha, who'd ever think that? *cough*

Seriously though, such a connection to Aztecs and Incans makes sense, what with Neil going off on about mystical danger birds and killer conquistadors. He may have felt a full album of such material would have been overkill though, so songs like Ride My Llama and Pocahontas got the axe in favour of more tunes about break-ups like Don't Cry No Tears and Stupid Girl. I don't know what's crazier though: that such songs wouldn't officially appear again for several years, and then only as folk versions, or that Powderfinger wouldn't either. Okay, so it wouldn't have fit on Zuma, but couldn't it have been rescued for American Stars 'n Bars? Decade? Heck, Comes A Time, if nothing else but for the LOLs?

Supposedly, such songs may have ended up on another of Neil's tantalizing lost albums, Chrome Dreams. Makes sense, between this and material in the next disc in Archives, Vol. 2 having plenty 'nuff for another LP. T'was not to be though, thus wonderful songs like Hawaii, Born To Run, Kansas, and Too Far Gone would go unheard for decades (save the odd concert bootleg). Man, guess Rusties should be thankful Ride My Llama, Pocahontas and Powderfinger only took a 'brief' half-decade to appear on Rust Never Sleeps.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 4 - Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973)

Reprise Records: 2018/2020

We're entering prime 'ditch' territory here, folks.

I'm sure we all know the story up to this point now. Harvest tour, a mess. Fame and fortune, found wanting. Close friends, dying of dope overdoses. Neil, trying to deal with it all, retreated to a make-shift L.A. studio with some of his musician buddies, where they drank hard liquor and played music to their fallen comrades, resulting in the album Tonight's The Night. As Archives, Vol. 2 presents everything in chronological order, it makes sense those sessions being the third disc in the set, despite the actual album not coming out for a couple years later. I've already reviewed it though, so let's skip ahead to disc number four, Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973).

Why review a live album of songs I've already talked about? The fact this was even unearthed is a talking point, by g'ar! Despite some of these tunes becoming staples in Mr. Young's future concerts, they were all unknown to a wider public at this point. There were no lead singles, no album in support, and those who were coming in to see Neil Young in concert had to be even more confused than those who went to the Harvest shows. At least he'd still play favourites like Old Man and Heart Of Gold among the newer, unreleased ditties like Time Fades Away and Don't Be Denied. You didn't even get that with this tour. I'm sure it's exactly as Neil preferred it. Heck, I'm not even sure he intended this to turn into a tour that stretched into the U.K., the songs just a tad too intimate, personal, and raw for international audiences unfamiliar with the material.

Still, if this live set is any indication, things at least started on a positive note. The Roxy Theatre on the Sunset Strip had just re-opened under new ownership, including future label mogul David Geffen. It hadn't quite shaken off its former strip club atmosphere though, so the bluesy, down-and-out, skuzzy vibe that permeates Tonight's The Night fit snuggly with the joint. Possibly feeling inspired by the setting, Neil morphed into a caricature of the sort of Orange County (or Miami Beach) lounge lizard who'd host such an establishment. No longer the charming, folksy warbler of country-rock hits, he was a downtrodden, washed-up grease-ball only a mother could love. Andy Kaufman would have loved it, if he'd seen it.

The smaller venue also provided the perfect vibe for the music, Neil far more personable and interactive with the crowd, all the while backed by his A-team of associated musicians. Dubbed The Santa Monica Flyers, you had the remaining Crazy Horse members on rhythm, wonderkid Nils Lofgren on piano and guitar, and dependable Ben Keith on slide guitar. All had been in lock-step with these tunes since their creation, so rolled into the Roxy quite polished in performing them. And even if no one in the audience knew them, they all seemed at least hype enough being part of the Roxy's grand opening to indulge Neil's dalliance from the norm. All in all, a fun night out, this performance, even if the subject matter remains bleak as all Hell.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 1 - Everybody's Alone (1972-1973)

Reprise Records: 2020

Aw shit, here we go again...

Like, you knew this was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Neil Young put out another Archives collection. It's why, despite the various, unearthed items that had recently come out from this period of his career, I let them pass by, fully expecting them to appear within this box-set. And for sure I'm gonna' review Every. Single. CD. that's included here, mwa-ha-hah! Okay, I'll probably skip on discs that are heavy on material from the albums I've already reviewed (Tonight's The Night, On The Beach, Zuma), because who needs redundant reviews like that? There's already ten discs on Archives Vol. 2 - gotta' cut corners wherever I can.

That all sorted? Good. Now, where were we? Ah yes, Mr. Young had just released Harvest, achieving a fame and fortune few could have dreamed of ten years deep into a music career, much less ol' Neil. In fact, he was so flustered with all the success that he kept trying to run away from it, which seemed to have the opposite effect. Part of a break-out rock band? Break away and do folksy solo stuff for a while. Get popular enough to join a super-group and play to crowds of thousands? Buy a ranch to get away from it all. Feel so inspired by your surroundings that you write some of your most heart-felt tunes yet, leading to chart topping albums and tours in sold-out arenas? Well, now things are just getting ridiculous. What must one do to get away from all this success? Drown yourself in a ditch?

That's jumping ahead a little though. Archives, Vol. 2 instead kicks things off in the immediate aftermath of Harvest. Titled Everybody's Alone (1972-1973), it's a sort of mish-mash of demo recordings and previously unreleased material of Neil trying out new and old songs with The Stray Gators, his backing band of Nashville session musicians (save an original recording of future tune Human Highway with Crosby, Stills, & Nash). Some of these would end up on the album Time Fades Away, including previously unreleased versions of The Bridge, L.A., and Time Fades Away (a right hootenanny of a tune!). In fact, I think the only tune that appears as on this disc that also does on that album is Yonder Stands The Sinner.

And you may wonder, why not just include the actual Time Fades Away songs, remastered, like as done on the previous Archives collection? To which I respond, “Have you actually heard the quality of those recordings?” They're not good, infamously recorded as performed live, with little in the way of proper studio tapes or mixing console used in the process. It remains one of the only Neil Young albums to never see an official CD re-issue, Neil either unable or unwilling to polish it for modern ears. It has finally found its way onto streaming services if you're insatiably curious, but you're probably better off with the versions as heard here.

Tijuana Panthers - Max Baker

Innovative Leisure Records: 2010/2015

It was bound to happen sooner than later. As much as you'll find throwbacks and homages to the genre throughout the decades, surf rock is just too niche a style for any modern band to make hay playing only that genre. Heck, it was lucrative for a mere half-decade to begin with, and while five years in '60s time is, like, eleven years in modern time (somehow), it's so intimately tied to a specific setting that a lasting rebirth simply can't happen again. Even Bandcamp, the last refuge for any band or musician who just don't give an f' so long as their craft is out there, freely admitted that its surf rock recommendations quickly disintegrate into indie pop or garage rock standards, some included bands barely touching the vintage shredding instrumentals with splashy reverb.

Tijuana Panthers fall into this category, a three-piece band having far more in common with Violent Femmes than anything Dick Dale turned out. On the other hand, their lyrical content sure brings to mind the simpler antics of teenagers hanging out at malt shoppes than all d'at angst of later generations. Never before has getting a crew cut sounded so daring and rebellious! No, wait, wasn't getting a crew cut the norm of ye golden oldies days? Like, having a mop-top hair-do, or something as scandalous as side-burns, those were the styles that gave young women their sexual awakenings. So is proudly proclaiming you're getting a crew cut an act of preppy defiance, or are Tijuana Panthers just playing up the stereo-type in a modern era? So much contemplation for a song that has a chorus of “I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby.”

Still, as a band that hails from Long Beach, Tijuana Panthers do bring a 'carefree fun in the sun' vibe to their music (including the song Summer Fun), which was aesthetically part and parcel to surf rock as the shredding and reverb ever was. The Beach Boys continuum, if you will, and this debut album of theirs is brimful of the stuff. Tunes like New Boots, Red Headed Girl, Two Step, and Angie will transplant you to the era of mini-skirts and little deuce coups no problem. If you want something a more 'rebellious' and rockin', however, how about rabble-rousers like This Town, and Girls Gone Wild. And yes, a couple songs do get more proper-surf (for lack of a better term), the aforementioned Summer Fun almost entirely a reverb-heavy instrumental, while Prayer Knees meets things in the middle.

Was Max Baker the sort of album I was after, then? Not really, but I do enjoy it for the time it plays. As mentioned, finding bands who specifically play the specific style of surf I like is a nigh impossible task. If my explorations cross paths with those who dabble though, who am I to complain? Beggers can't be choosers, and all that rot.

ACE TRACKS: March-July 2020

So I have shingles.

At least it's not COVID-19, right? And I don't feel sick, just frequent hot spikes of pain around my shoulder-blade (imagine a heated cactus ball rolling about) as my latent chicken-pox virus does its damage to all those tender nerve membranes. And you may be thinking, “wait, Sykonee can't be that old such that he'd get shingles?”, and you'd be right. Yet here we are. I already knew all the stress I've put upon myself this year wasn't doing me many favours, but the fact it suppressed my immune system enough such that the ol' varicella-zoster could act up again should have me rethinking the way I'm doing things.

And what's 'funny' about all this is, until it flared up, I thought I was doing fine, life-wise. Yeah, there were still things and stuffs lingering in the back of my mind, but I still had a good groove about doing it. I can only hope my stubbornness hasn't done permanent damage because dear God, this would suck to have to deal with for the rest of my life. Or get myself in on that all-encompassing opiod market America is known for.

That all said, I realized it's been five months since I last did an ACE TRACKS playlist. Figured after all that time, I'd amassed enough of a backlog to make one. Little did I realize the final list would be over 10 hours long! Gander, at the ACE TRACKS from March through July:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Bedrock: Jimmy Van M
Various - Better Living Through Circuitry
Various - Beyond The Machines
Cryostasis - Between Static And Distance
Coma Eye - Insufflated Brine Shrimp
Astral Engineering - Chronoglide

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 19%
Most “WTF?” Track: Neo-Adventures - Whaaaauuu (because “whaaaaaauuuuu TF?”)

Okay, so I cheated a little in the length, in that I included the entirety of L.S.G.'s The Singles: Reworked at the end. Plus some of the all-time longest recorded pieces of music by both Banco de Gaia and Creedence Clearwater Revival ever committed to master tapes (ten minutes of CCR may as well be a prog-rock opus).

Even with those caveats though, the fact this playlist ended up as long as it did just goes to show I've been busier than I gave myself credit for. And diverse too, a little something for anyone's interest making its way into here, providing a surprisingly smooth listening experience compared to many playlists past. Of course, if no one wants to listen to it, because it'll remind you of *gestures wildly*, I wouldn't blame ya'. Heck, maybe it's why I put off on doing this for so long in the first place. It's been a Hell of a five months, it has.

Oh, and some may have noticed I've skipped ahead on my reviewing order. The 'B' section of my collection is too big for one sitting, so decided to split that up while dealing with a pile of other items I've had gathering in that time. Will probably resume with the 'B's in, oh, a year, at my current rate

Creedence Clearwater Revival - The Best Of CCR

Polytel: 1993

According to Lord Discogs, this was the most comprehensive collection of Creedence Clearwater Revival ever released to that point. For sure there'd been multiple 'best of's and 'greatest hits' albums following the band's break-up, 1976's Chronicle, Vol. 1 the definitive one for many years (with John Fogerty bellowing into a microphone on the cover). That one alone contained twenty of their songs, some of which you haven't even heard! Okay, you probably have, but didn't quite register like their stone-cold classics like Bad Moon Rising or Fortunate Son or Run Through The Jungle or Lookin' Out My Back Door or... a whole lot others you may not recognize by song-title alone, but instantly do the moment you hear a specific guitar chord and vocal.

For most, twenty chart toppers was plenty, but throughout the '80s, more and more 'best of's made their way to the markets, squeezing more songs in thanks to the additional space the burgeoning CD market offered. Eventually it seemed twenty-four to twenty-six songs became the gold standard of just how much CCR folks were willing to indulge in, but it's never enough for the record labels eager for another round of recycling.

Thus along came this double-disc Canadian collection in 1993, featuring twenty-eight songs in total. That's all of Chronicle, Vol. 1, seven tunes from Chronicle, Vol. 2 (which focused on the band's best non-charting songs), plus the song Bootleg (or as John says it, “Boo-lay, boo-lay-ay!”). Then a couple years later, the Pacifica nations got a whopping thirty-four song collection called Keep On Chooglin', while the European nations upped the ante with thirty-six songs with CCR Forever. Geez'it, did the band even have that many in their whole discography to warrant this?

Barely. True, seven albums in a half-decade of activity ain't nothing to scoff at, though their final record Mardis Gras barely counts (John Fogerty certainly doesn't, though the few songs songs he did write for that disaster made the cut here; the cover of Gene Pitney's Hello Marry Lou too). By the time we've finally gotten to Fortunate Son deep into CD2 though, I'm feeling well tapped-out on CCR. Yet one disc isn't enough either. Yeah, we get the full eleven-minute version of I Heard It Through The Grapevine there, one of the few recorded instance of hearing this band jam in an era when jams were all the jam, man. CD1 ends though, and you realize you haven't heard Born On The Bayou yet, or Walk On The Water, or I Put A Spell On You... Guess this needed the 2CD treatment after all.

What, a review of the actual music? Oh come on, you know how all this goes! CCR have been classic rock staples since there were classic rock stations. For sure their unique brand of 'swamp rock' stands out from the crowd, but you already know that because you've had their songs swirling in your head the moment you read those song titles. Truly timeless tunes.

U2 - The Best Of 1980-1990

Island Records: 1998

Probably the most obvious item to have in one's music collection, if you've ever only been a passive fan of the biggest band out of Ireland. And weren't of buying age when their most famed albums were being released. So me then, by the late '90s. Those big hits of the '80s just kept playing on the radio, see, even cautiously appearing on classic rock stations now (then). Reminding folks of a different time in the band's lifespan, before all the weird, artsty, 'electronica' stuff took them over and oh, wouldn't it be nice to have all those '80s songs in one, handy place? Man, the 'Best Of' compilation market was such an easy game back then.

Thing is, it was about time for U2 to compile their greatest hits. The band was two decades old into their career, and while as globally popular as ever, perhaps starting to see some strain in their ambition. No, best to reflect on all that came before, the stepping stones that got you to wear you've gotten, and isn't it handy that there's enough material to divide each decade up into two separate releases? Especially for those who felt U2 lost the plot as the '90s wore on? Not me though, I was entirely ambivalent about it!

But yeah, this one was a no-brainer when it was announced, for me and several million other souls - so many classics all in one tidy place! Pride (In The Name Of Love)! New Year's Day! Sunday Bloody Sunday! The Big Three off of The Joshua Tree! A couple more off The Unforgettable Fire, including The Unforgettable Fire! There's even something off their first album, I Will Follow, which makes sense since that jam is quintessential U2 of the '80s, a strident rocker with wonderful melodic overtones. Amazing that they made that so early in their career. The only album not represented here is their sophomore effort October, at least officially. The titular song does appear in 'secret song' capacity, which I guess makes sense since the record never spun off any popular singles. Didn't want to totally forget it though.

So a straight-forward 'best of' collection from U2, but that's only nine songs, and there's still a bunch of space left on the CD? What else can we put in there? Hey, how about a B-side from The Joshua Tree, and make that the lead single for this? Yeah, that's the ticket! Not gonna' lie though, I kinda' despise The Sweetest Thing because as a 'new single' intended to remind the world of U2's '80s glory, it was ridiculously overplayed. Matters weren't helped when it seemed like all their music sounded like that in the following decade.

Okay, that's one more song, but dang'it, there's still more space. What to do, what to do... Oh, screw it, throw in four songs from the Rattle And Hum project at the end, that should be enough. Not like anyone listens to CDs the whole way through anyway.

The B-52's - The B-52's

Warner Bros. Records: 1979

I never thought I'd get a The B-52's album. Like so many folks out there (so very many), my first contact with them was via their omnipresent late '80s hit Love Shack. And like everyone else, I loved the song, until I heard it too many times to the point I didn't really want to hear it again. I also recall Kate Pierson's guest spot on REM's Shiny Happy People as being the first time I realized there was such a thing as artist guest spots (“gosh, that lady singing in the chorus sure sounds like the lady singing in Love Shack!”). Following that, there was The Flintstones Theme, which forever marked the band to me as just some cheese-ball, cartoony throwback group. Which, well, was kinda' true, but Cynical Teenager Sykonee thought that a Bad Thing.

Fast forward many years (over a decade?), and I hear Rock Lobster on a classic rock station. And I thinks to myself, I thinks to myself I do, “Wait, is this the same group as who did Love Shack and Flintstones? How can that be, this tune's awesome!” Not that I rushed out to nab more of their music or anything, but it definitely forced a much-needed reassessment of their work, such that when Spotify Discovery discovered me another of their older tunes, I decided it was finally time to do the deed and dig into The B-52's discography proper-like.

While I know pretty nearly anyone reading this blog should know who The B-52's are, they may not know much about them prior to Love Shack (erm, like me, once). They started much earlier than that, forming in the late '70s, getting lumped in with that new wave of rock bands taking the music down roads yet adventured. Only, the five-piece didn't. Rather, they set their sights on rock music from its earliest days, after the rockabilly era, but prior to the Mersey beat era. Yes, I'm talkin' up that most wonderful vintage rock era of them all, the surf rock era!

I get why that style of guitar action had fallen by the wayside, a genre of music commonly associated with thoughts of preppy white kids getting into safe, society-acceptable hi-jinks. Just wasn't as sexy as the gritty greasers from which punk rock was getting its aesthetic from. Irony was on the cusp of musical birth though, and while they were quite sincere in their cribbing from white-crust Middle-Americana, one couldn't help but take The B-52's antics just a tad tongue-in-cheek.

Still, such sincerity makes their self-titled debut album the fun romp that it is. Not only did it trigger plenty of nostalgic endorphins for the Boomer sect, but posed the question of what such music would sound like if it took things an extra level. Rock Lobster was such a hit not just for its cartoony charm, but because it just keeps going! Imagine a Hanna-Barbara cartoon featuring Frankie Avalon on all the amphetamines. Oh, and the rest of the album's pretty cool too.

Neil Young - After The Goldrush

Reprise Records: 1970/1993

A little unfinished business, this. I totally skipped After The Goldrush when going through my block of 'A'-titled albums, because the record was already significantly covered when I reviewed the Neil Young Archives collection. Still, I can't very well claim to have reviewed everything in my music library if I don't also do this, even if there's little more I can add. One thing did come to mind though.

In its commitment to presenting the tracklist in chronological order, the Archives collection failed to showcase one of After The Goldrush's best strengths, how each side of the record mirrored each other. A wonderful, group acoustic love song opener, followed by a reflective commentary on society, then a lovelorn ditty, a hard rocker, and finishing off with a charming doodle. Okay, Side-B doesn't quite match up, what with an extra song there, but put I Believe In You where Birds is, and it matches, mang!

That's all I got left to say. Here's what I wrote before to eat up the rest of my self-imposed word count obligation. Enjoy!

Despite taking a step back from the limelight, Neil Young once again found himself a very important person in the world of American rock. It'd only been half-a-decade since he sought music fortune in Los Angeles, and he'd accomplished more commercially and creatively than most could have ever hoped for, even for the fruitful '60s. What else could he do beyond being part of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, one of the country's most popular bands?

“How about scoring a movie?” suggested Young's Topanga neighbour Dean Stockwell. Yes, that Dean Stockwell, who'd been interested in scripting and filming a movie called After The Goldrush. It piqued ol' Shakey's interest enough to start writing a few tunes for it, and though the film never materialized, some of the intended music turned out to be some of the highlights of Young's album of the same name (Tell Me Why, After The Goldrush, Don’t Let It Bring You Down). It also sparked his creativity ever further, vivid lyrics compared to songs past, and unafraid at stretching his limited vocal range into areas yet attempted. You can really hear him crackling the high notes in After The Goldrush for the first time, exposing a naked sincerity to his music.

The other two standouts from these sessions are Southern Man (an incendiary condemnation of, well, southern redneck ‘justice’ and treatment of African-Americans) and When You Dance, I Can Really Love, capturing Young and his Crazy Horse band in full-on swagger musically. Added to the mix is seventeen year old Nils Lofgren, a budding guitarist that’d been something of an understudy to Young. In what had to been either crazy brilliant or brilliantly crazy, Neil suggested Nils play piano for these songs, an instrument lil’ Lofgren had no prior experience with. The kid fuckin’ smashed it! That’s Mr. Young for you though, so often bringing the best out of those around him.

Dead Coast - Shambolic

Annibale Records: 2016

It honestly could have remained a singular compilation indulgence. A specific genre itch that was tied to a specific period of time, and needn't be explored any further. Maybe I'd have gotten myself a Dick Dale collection as well, but surf rock wasn't something in need of diving fully and completely into. Much less wade through the vast, murky shores of indie rock seeking any contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era, because there always are a few who find inspiration in super-niche styles of a bygone time. It's just what indie rock do, mang!

Fortunately, and remarkably coincidentally, I stumbled upon a Bandcamp newsletter highlighting all the contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era. Like, almost instantly after I'd picked up that Surf Beat compilation. The only explanation for this astounding timing is the sweet Sirens of surf rock heard my longing wail across the Pacific shores, sending me a serenading screed whence I needed it most. Yeah, that tracks.

Thus here I am (rocking you like a hurricane?), reviewing the debut album from Dead Coast, a band out of London that clearly has its ears turned to the early '60s of the California coast. And not only am I reviewing their debut album, but I'm going with the digital copy, because all the hard copy versions were already sold out, but I wasn't gonna' deny myself some fresh musical exploration based on outdated conditionals.

And no, this isn't an all-in surf outing, just as much a 'Merseybeat' and psychedelic rock showing too (Lord Discogs also lists Garage Rock, Blues Rock, Stoner Rock, and Space Rock among the genres Shambolic entails, but what does Discogs know?). The most surfy of the songs on here are probably Ask The Dust, Hills Made Of Sand, Good In Her Blues, and Because I Know You. Mmm, such lush, dreamy reverb, bringing to mind lazy hazy days swaying by sunny shores under palm trees, salty waves lapping at your feet and all that good summer stuff. Plus, can't knock that authentic lo-fi recording quality, as though ripped from the sixty year old, 7” records.

That's only four songs out of a tracklist of thirteen. If the surf-inspired tunes don't cut it for you, you can always vibe on the garage-beat outings like Jenny Loves The Sun, Why Are We Still Together, and Just Don't Give Yourself (ooh, getting a White Stripes feeling off that one). Then there are the weirdo tunes, like ESP that's got that blues thing going, but features a Theremin (or approximate) solo. Or Overcome, an instrumental psychedelic freak-out that pauses at points for some slow jam time in a Tiki lounge (oh hi, Khruangbin, fancy seeing you here); Bossa For Stanley would fit in that lounge too.

So overall, a good first outing in this strange yet familiar musical realm I'm treading out into. I mean, it ought to have been, what with this album coming recommended by Bandcamp and all.

Asia - Asia

Geffen Records: 1982

You'd forgive me for thinking this would be better. Given the pedigree of the players involved, how could anyone initially think otherwise? The band Yes guitarist Steve Howe ended up on? Hell, I'm sold already. Geoff Downes may not be the definitive Yes synth player, but he was involved enough to be considered honoured alum, so I'll dig on what he's doing too. That John Wetton dude, long time session bassist with Yes, King Crimson and Uriah Heep: sounds like as fine a prog-rock resume as anyone of the time. And those Palmer and Lake chaps, of Emerson, Lake & Palmer, they have a darn good reputation among prog-rock heads, especially Greg Lake from his time in King Crimson. Throw in some nifty Roger Dean cover art, and I'm ready to throw this self-titled debut album from super-group Asia on. Screw what all the haters have said about this band over the years, this is gonna' rock my socks off the clock on the corner block. Hollycock!

Then opener Heat Of The Moment starts, and my face drops. Oh... That song. They were behind it. I... honestly had no idea. Absolutely I've heard it tons on the classic rock radio, the ultimate '80s radio, and the generic pop hits radio, but it never clicked for me it was by Asia. Like, the distinctive Howe guitar action I'm familiar with is almost utterly absent. No, that's not it, he's there, but buried in the mix, on equal footing with Downes' synths, Palmer's drums, and Wetton's bass. Rather, it's all about Wetton's lead vocals, which makes sense for a radio-friendly tune – no time for technical prog-rock wankery in a three-to-four minute jangle. Same goes for Only Time Will Tell, another song featured aplenty on all the aforementioned radio stations. For sure you get some solos from each player involved, but as brief seconds-long spurts, not minutes-long exercises.

How? How could Howe and co. stoop to such commercial pandering? As always, my old man had a nugget of wisdom when I inquired him about it. After the previous decade was spent getting dicked by shady labels and making little scratch for all their artistic endeavours, shooting for the charts had to be an enticing offer for these guys. I'm sure their deal with Geffen Records was a lucrative one, David Geffen snatching up anyone he could with promises of favourable contracts to establish his hip new label. Just, y'know, make sure you get some hits on the radio while you're at it. And Asia certainly delivered that.

And guess what! Once past those obvious arena rock anthems, Asia turns into the sort of prog-rock outing I was expecting, with plenty o' musical showcases and highlighted Howe guitar action among the power-pop choruses. Yeah, there's cheese, production's a little too studio polished, and it ain't a touch on their '70s stuff, but it's not so embarrassing as other '80s prog-rock went. At least on par with Yes' 90125, if you will.

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.

ACE TRACKS: March 2018

It's a strange sensation, this. Not having any pressing need to push forward with another review soon. Even when I took the occasional month-long sabbatical, I still had a set date for when I'd hit the keyboard again. And while it's about 95% certain I'll pick things up again here, I don't have a particular day picked out for it either. It could be mid-month, it could me many months (not likely), all dependant on how fast and productive I am with other tasks demanding my current attention. With this new 'freedom', however, I can go about listening to whatever music I want, not worrying about any set schedule or orderly list. Why, I can even explore music outside my usual interests and expertise since there's no pressure to write reviews for them on an electronic music blog! Country! Jazz! Polka! Schlaagger! Zanzibaran taarab! Zouk! Hotel pop!

Or, y'know, just stay in my lane. That works too. Anyhow, here's the ACE TRACKS for March of 2018:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
ZerO One - zerO One
Mick Chillage - Zen Diagrams
Plank & Ishq - Zeal Monachorum
Various - Frankie Bones: You Know My Name
Various - Y9: Nine Years Of Psychonavigation Records

Percentage of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 30%
Most “WTF?” Track: Wednesday Campanella - Uranium-Chan (so wonderfully unexpected of anything)

Reverse alphabetical order! I mean, it kinda' makes sense to give the Z and Y songs top billing since I just finished going through Y and Z albums. Surprising there even is a few tracks like that here – artists don't often title tunes with those letters.

Very heavy on the '70s music and music that sounds like it could have been made in the '70s. There's also music that sounds like it could be from the '80s, but is clearly made in the Nowies, some music from the '00s, and... wow, nothing from the '90s? That's got to be a first. Pole Folder at least sounds like he could have been from the '90s though, so close enough.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Zuma

Reprise Records: 1975

Sometimes the best way to get out of a depressive funk is to abandon one group of music buddies, reconvene with another group of music buddies, and hang out on the beaches of Malibu getting all up in that mid-'70s bachelor life. Lots of booze, lots of 'rawk', probably some drugs too, though none of that super-heavy shit that had been going around, leading to too many deaths of colleagues. Or maybe a little on the psychedelic bent, Zuma marking the point where Neil Young started singing about ancient Aztec and Incan lore, the sort of stuff one can't help but be inspired by after ingesting a little psilocybin. Me, I just go and listen to every album I own in alphabetical order, but if writing music about Cortez the killer and mythical lady-birds is what does it for you, have at it, guy.

Weird inspirations aside, one of the reasons Zuma came to fruition is Young's old band Crazy Horse had found themselves a new guitarist after the passing of Danny Whitten. It'd only been a few years since then, but in Neil Young terms, that's practically a lifetime, a whole stage of his career cycled through. Insisting he come and check out the dude's chops on the axe (or however you say it), Mr. Young was impressed at how well he could perform both lead and rhythm guitar parts on such classic Crazy Horse collaborations like Cowgirl In The Sand and Down By The River.

That's because this here Frank Sampedro was a huge fan of the group, often jamming away on his own to the album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. So much so, in fact, that ol' “Pedro” joked he'd probably played those songs more than Young and Whitten ever had. Feeling that familiar fire that made their earlier works such kinetic monuments to classic rock, The Young & The Restless Horse hit the studio with the same carefree approach as before, cranking out tunes about blue barstools, stupid girls, and other love-lorn chestnuts.

Aside from Cortez The Killer though (sounding kinda' short to my ears at seven-and-a half minutes, since I'm used to the live Weld version), Zuma doesn't have much in the way of classic Young material. Some good, solid rock music, for sure, a few tunes of which are little more than excuses for the band to just go off while bemoaning past relationships (as I said, a total bachelor fest). There's also Danger Bird, the closest thing to a companion piece to Cortez The Killer in its epic sense of scope, though it doesn't reach the seven minute mark, nor has been trotted out for live sessions as often, so it's unsurprising the song goes overlooked in the annals of Young et Cheval de Fou music.

Which is Zuma in a nutshell. The players involved were basically rediscovering their synergy with this outing, and would create greater works together after this.

The Police - Zenyatta Mondatta

A&M Records: 1980/2003

Probably the easiest collection of music from The Police I got into as a kid, though the larger themes obviously went well over my head. I had no idea Sting was singing about the degradation of our communication skills when infatuation overwhelms us, I just liked singing “de do do do, de da da da.” A peppy tune about a bird lost in a mine is a whole 'lotta fun, never mind having no clue what the simile's about. And isn't it funny how some sweaty General is fascinated by a gorilla girl in Bombs Away? Or Man In A Suitcase, which is clearly about a tiny man who literally lives in a suitcase? Haha, it's the sort of silly stuff Raffi might do a song about. Still, that first song, Don't Stand So Close To Me, seems so serious considering it's about cooties and all that – the chorus is just as catchy as the rest of 'em on though.

The fact that Zenyatta Mondatta ended up with so many fun, simple songs wasn't by conscious choice by Sting, Stewart, and Andy. After a rigorous tour in support of Regatta de Blanc, they reconvened for some studio time, but were right out the door for more touring a month later. Their third album was rather rushed as a result, the band mostly sticking to the reggae and punk fusion they'd grown incredibly comfortable and adept at performing. They were definitely itching to break out of that mould though, little hints and nuggets of their impending political-heavy, New Wave turn lurking here and there.

Take Driven To Tears, a sober reflection of the strife of poverty-stricken people, coupled with a lightly uplifting turnaround with When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of What's Still Around. For the longest time, I thought these were the same song, so perfectly thematically paired as they are. Meanwhile, songs like Voices Inside My Head, Shadows In The Rain, Behind My Camel, and The Other Way Of Stopping find the band indulging in looser song-writing, some of which contain no lyrics at all, or input from other members either. Funny enough, Behind My Camel, the lone Andy Summers tune on here, was so hated upon by Sting that he refused to play bass for it, leaving it to Andy. It went on to win a Grammy for Instrumental Rock a couple years later, so what does Sting know.

And yes, the shift into broader political themes definitely announces The Police have arrived in The '80s. The Afghanistan War (“oh, 'guerrilla girl'”, Teenage Sykonee said), increased pressures to fit in a rapidly consumerist society... big issues were afoot, and damn if Sting & Co. weren't gonna' use their star platform to start telling their audience about them. Er, once they have the time to properly do it, that is, on an album that's not as rushed as Zenyatta Mondatta. For now, have a sampling with the familiar, spirited 'cod reggae'.

ACE TRACKS: January 2018

Four months now. Four. Months. Ef-Or. Nearly one-hundred reviews later. And yet, I'm still not finished this alphabetical backlog! Man, remember when I first started it? I 'member, especially those first few albums, wandering about the local neighborhoods in the first days of autumn, taking in all those... *checks October 2017 reviews* Those Dronarivm albums, and those Mick Chillage works, not to mention an honest-to-God dubstep album. Why, that far back, I reckon no one reading this blog even knew what an Oak Ridge Boy was. It all feels so long ago now, so very long ago, and we're still far from the finish line. Three more letters of the backlog, then it's on to the final three letters of the alphabet, then after that it's... hmm, I'm not entirely sure. Do I keep right on going into albums that feature numbers in their title? Explore other ideas for review material? Perhaps finish other outstanding projects first? Offer myself a little break? Actually, I've plumb forgotten how to 'veg', downtime these days mostly just me having a breather between work and writing. OCD's rough that way. Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS for January 2018.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Ras Command - Serious Smokers (The Best Of Ras Command)
Simon Scott - Silenne
Seaworthy - Sleep Paths
Geometry Combat - Tanz Der Schatten
Legowelt - TEAC Life
Rainbow Vector - This Way

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 5%
Percentage Of Rock: 5% (though it sure is soft)
Most “WTF?” Track : Daft Punk - Drive (you've probably forgotten this is how they first sounded)

So TEAC Life isn't on Spotify, which on one hand I'm kinda' thankful for because sorting those additional nineteen tracks would be mind-numbing. Plus, with all the Soma techno on hand, having that much techno would go redundant on this playlist. On the other hand, they're all dope tunes, techno that everyone who likes techno should hear – ah well, there's still the Bandcamp option.

Overall, a funny playlist, this one. Techno dominates, but every so often, it gets broken up by a little synth-pop ditty, or a rapping Japanese lass, or a '70s hit you've heard thousands of times on your local radio.

Various - Sounds Of The Seventies: The Late '70s

Time Life Music: 1993

This was volume thirty-four out of a series of thirty-seven, and don't this come off like the crusty teat of a withered cow. Sounds Of The Seventies had already given the late '70s ample representation with two rounds of yearly spotlights. Following that, titles such as Seventies Top Forty, Guitar Power, Dance Fever, Punk & New Wave, plus several featured looks into FM Rock and AM Pop rounded up the stragglers, plus three more CDs of AM Nuggets after this. No other compilation in this series highlighted such nebulous ideas like “early '70s” or “mid-'70s”. What gives?

Time Life Music gives their reasoning as thus: “The late '70s was a schizophrenic time for pop music.” Basically, this CD is intended to showcase the myriad genres hitting the airwaves, much of which had little to do with each other. When your opening three songs include Donna Summer's true-disco hit Last Dance, The Village People's camp-disco hit In The Navy, and Boston's silly rock anthem More Than A Feeling, it does impart a sense that things were going a little kooky towards the end of that decade. America, if you thought that was weird, you should have heard the synthy sounds emanating from Europe and Asia too!

Seriously though, there are some interesting contrasts on this CD. The theme to Happy Days is on here, and that's followed by the MTV defining Video Killed The Radio Star from The Buggles, which I always assumed was a 1980 tune because of MTV. Nope, 1979 was when it was released, a technicality but still fits with a Late '70s theme. Punk gets a look-in by way of Blondie's Dreaming, which is followed upon by the... country soft rock (?) of Dave Mason's We Just Disagree. The sultry side of funk-n-soul gets repped by Marvin Gaye's I Want You and The Manhattans' Kiss And Say Goodbye, and rockier outings from John Stewart's Gold, Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy, and Bob Welch's Ebony Eyes show up. Um, yeah, most of the kick-ass rock tunes were already used up in prior Sounds Of The Seventies CDs.

That's one thing I'll give some props to this series though, always featuring fresh tunes with each volume. I sifted through each one, and didn't spot a single repeat, a remarkable feat considering not one instance of Neil Young showing up (da'fuq!??), not to mention nearly no synth music included – Hot Butter's Popcorn did show up though, because how could it not? I suppose there's a couple examples of synth on this CD too, like The Buggles, and the Moog solo on Alan O'Day's Undercover Angel. And let's not forget Minnie Riperton's Lovin' You! While that tune's about as un-electronic as it gets, it found a new generation of interest after The Orb sampled it in their breakout A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That you know the rest of it. So in true 'begging-chosing' fashion, rave music finally gets its nod in Sounds Of The Seventies.