Re-issues Reviews

An impressive international debut from Finnish art rock polymath: from child-like fantasy into the great wide open.

Having left WIGWAM, the band he'd shot to fame with, Pekka Pohjola must have felt freed and ready to extend his classical expertise outside the bass duties and occasional writing credit. There loomed a project with an American fan named Frank Zappa that never materialized but at the time Pohjola had this album under his belt, an instrumental re-imagination of a little fairy-tale his girlfriend wrote about a little bird which might be an allegory for Pekka's own story. It's all in the CD booklet to help to understand what's going on behind the sounds. And in a magic forest that the maestro's dynamic piano opens the door into a lot is afoot.

"The First Morning" reveals a rich tapestry of the progressive kind yet with an adventurous fusion embroidery - "Bialoipokku's War" echoes a certian Hendrix riff - where the brass blazes over the solid rock bottom rippling with bass. There's even a muscular four-string solo in the rarefied guitar air of "The Madness Subsides", but ultimately, the album's not about boasting the young musician's skills: the focus is on Pohjola's talents as a composer. He knows how to create a shadowy presence of an orchestra that's not there no matter how the dramatic "Bad Weather" begs for it, contrasting with the deep folky playfulness of "Bialoipokku Dances". The Zappa wildness fills the jam-based "Life Goes On" which sounds like a celebration of musical freedom and provides this short but delicious work with a grand finale. Back to the egg? You're welcome!

****1/3

The finest hour of the late comers on the NWOBHM scene from the England's most heavy metal area.

By 1988, when this band emerged from Birmigham, the New Wave of British Heavy Metal wasn't new at all, with the genre splitting into much more extreme, and fashionable, styles. Not that it mattered for singer Andy Pyke and classically trained guitarist Dave Martin who blueprinted their collective on the MAIDEN and PRIEST template, and in 1992 delivered this, their second and strongest album which sounds fresh even now.

It doesn't reek of originality, though, but there's enough swing to "Chain Of Youth" and "Naked Aggression" with their sharp rifferama and bombastic chorus, while "No Justice" is a big good, if rather banal, power ballad - so '80s, it may bring a nostalgic tear to many an eye. It's not the only melodic spot on there, the album bristles with hooks, an acoustic ring upping the emotional impact of "Edge Of The World" and the title track's twing guitar solo nicely wrapping itself around the ears. For the most part, still, the chug is likeable while it lasts, yet it leaves little lasting memories once the spin is over.

***

The first-ever YES spin-off flesh out their progressive vision for all to see.

From glory to morass: the forgotten purveyors of progressive hard rock strike and back out of sight.

It wasn't easy to impress Tommy Vance who'd seen many good heavy bands rise and fall, so it might mean something when the DJ played this British band's first album in its entirety in 1988, right after "Midnight" hit the shelves - and four years on since the quartet released their debut single. Re-cut with an acoustic lining for the LP but included here in its original form, it sets the high standards for what later one would be christened "prog metal". Heavy and clever, despite its riffs' nod to the smoothness of the day, "Lesson One" pitches Noel Jones high-hitting vocals over Richard Max Goddard's elastic bass with ever-shifting time signatures. Simon Pengilly's guitar flight, fantastic yet measured, is what makes it all special, and it's a joyride from start to finish, even the anxious ballad "London Nighlife" managing to stay the right side of theatrical drama, a short violin solo adding a pinch of transcendental.

In "Right Between The Eyes" the band show they know too well where to go lyrical amidst the streamline rock 'n' rolling, and the live bonus of "Frightened Children" shows how the group transplanted their music to the stage, while a bunch of demos open the ears to their studio MO, yet here the magic stops. After Pengilly, the principal writer, left, the foursome laid down "Paradise... At A Price" but, due to their label's troubles, this album didn't see the light of day until now. It's a strong work which is too regular in the hard rock stalls to really impress; had WHITE LIGHTNING thrown their lot in with American glam metallers like SKID ROW, the Brits could have notch some dent on the charts. But they didn't.

****3/4 / ***

The HAWKWIND spin-off project snaps into steep spin to spin an aerial satirical yarn.

It was quite a sad story of the US selling their light aircrafts to Luftwaffe who turned them into heavy bombers that made the fighters more deadly for the pilots rather than enemies: the story of American political push and German vanity pull which the HAWKWIND singer Robert Calvert, the aviation fanatic and high-flying poet, turned into satirical drama. Its stage production was limited but the album featuring the author's crazy friends such as Vivian Stanshall and Lemmy still stands tall, although the music gets behind the concept sometimes.

Starting with an impersonation of Defence Minister Franz Josef Strauss who intiated the military deal, it's a captivating listen anyway - in the way of Calvert's main band, that's why "The Aerospace Inferno" and the single "Ejection" pick up where "Silver Machine" left off. Paul Rudolph of THE DEVIANTS submits a searing guitar throughout, burning hot together with Nik Turner's sax in "The Right Stuff" boogie, to make the record an acid classic, while Dave Brock's chimes in for the heavy rumble of "The Widow Maker", and the funny dialogue interludes shoot the acidic quotient up to the skies. The standout piece, though, is the two-part "The Song Of The Gremlin" where Arthur Brown takes the booming lead to lead it out from the Ladbroke Grove's groove into the disco theater with Brian Eno's synth rave for the decor and then into the God of Fire delicious hell.

"Captain Lockheed" is a grower: the more you spin it, the steeper the pleasure. As for its political relevance, nowadays it's still actual and modern.

****1/2

True to their name, the veteran hard rockers return to the fray with youthful fervor.

More a stuff of legend than true heroes, when this British band fizzled out in 1978, nobody really missed them. Since then, they've somehow grown in status, and with this, their fourth album, the quintet - featuring three members of the classic line-up but not the great late Gary Holton whose vocal duties were taken up by keyboard player Danny Peyronel, most famous for his stint with U.F.O. - target the right spot indeed. If a couple of opening cuts rock 'n' roll too smooth and AOR-like for their own good, "Blow It All Away" bubbles with spiky, THE CLASH-inspired energy, followed by title track's swagger that goes down the throat like a tasty swig of old wine, thanks to the killer effort from the rhythm section of Ronnie Thomas and Keith Boyce.

The twin-guitar riffing courtesy of two Marcos, Barusso and Guarnerio, and the stadium-sized hooks don't disappoint either, the acoustic intro to "Viva New York!" adding some mariachi ring to the infectious urban shuffle, while the city downside is explored with equal, though sad, gusto on mid-tempo "I Walk Alone" that the fans of aforementioned U.F.O. will cherish. The KIDS old supporters must have a field day with a smattering of live bonus tracks on this re-issue, which include classics "The Cops Are Coming" and "Chelsea Kids", yet "A Hundred Skeletons" swings finely on par with those faves, and the slow part of "Gotham City" is hard to resists amidst the catchy licks all around it. Quite a way to reconnect with the past and get back!

****

The original YES guitarist plays seek-and-hide with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and many other heavy guests.

Today, to have fellow guitarists on a guitarist's album is commonplace, and such a un-competitive phenomenon can be tracked down to this record. Perhaps, there were two many creative forces in YES for Peter Banks to thrive; maybe, his vision wasn't suited to a band atmophere at all, although the FLASH works still sound strong. But, given a chance to pursue a path of his own, in the company of FOCUS' Jan Akkerman, who co-wrote most of the tracks here, and other prog rock luminaries, Banks' talent bloomed in full - in the field of sonic experimentation rather than more or less traditional form.

CRIMSON lyricist calls heavy arms to his court and creates a masterpiece in his own write.

Whatever objections from Pete Sinfield's side might be there - and there's none - he's first and foremost a poet, not a singer. But his co-conspiration in creating of KING CRIMSON taught Pete to not be limited by his own limitations, so in 1973, full of both musical and lyrical ideas, Sinfield came up with this strange fruit which sees the light now as its author intended, and that's quite a reason to discard its CD debut under the "Stillusion" tag and dive headlong in the fantastic imagery swirl. As far as intentions go, the second disc of a new re-issue presents original mixes of the album, the punchier ones, yet it's in the final smoothness that the eternal enigmatic pull of "Still" lurks.

Another, ever more smooth, ride Westward, from the old Blighty to the Pacific, or where David Gilmour found some inspiration.

Having expanded the ranks, the canine blues wailers got chained, with their bite less strong but their bark still loud.

The Dutch continuation of the GONG's little folk territory.

1974 saw the split in the ranks of SUPERSISTER along the lines of progressive freedom but, after trying out their ideas in two different camps, the band's vocalist Sacha von Geest and keyboard wiz Robert Jan Stips got together once more to get back to the ensemble's original name and the debut single's B-side "Spiral Staircase" and build a whole album around it. The result, featuring bassist Ron van Eck, was quite different to what had been done on the group's previous records and much closer to Daevid Allen's explorations of the gnome world.

It's an idiosyncratic but charming concept and, with bass always to the fore, there's a lot of sensitive funk involved like in the fairy tale overdrive of "Dangling Dingdongs". So those who won't stop at the piano-led poem recital of the introductory "Retroschizive" and the funny Greek dance of "Jingle Bean Hop" should derive major pleasure from the childlike wonders of little jazzy runs to and from the melodic lines. Others, though, would feel confused in this sound-effects-filled theatrical atmosphere, peaking with the "Nosy Parkers" music hall, which feels tailored mostly for the players' own, rather than listeners', satisfaction.

Ultimately, the band don't cross over from the pastiche humor and, while the Irish, bagpipes-oiled choir march of "Cookies, Teacups, Buttercups" chimes just fine alongside the calypso of "Gi, Ga, Go", this album remains only a convoluted curio hanging from the straight line of one of the best Dutch prog group's story. Still, the Latin take on Harry Belafonte's "Coconut Woman", with LOS ALEGRES in tow, rings nice.

**1/2

The title says it all but fails to represent the lazy wonders that lie inside.

Generic, if enjoyable, hard rock from upstate New Yorkers. Beware of the hooks and be wary of memorable repetitions.

To be signed to the subsidiary of Motown might have been a privilege but following the RARE EARTH route in the '80s was an impossibe task even for such experienced players as these. Their sixth album is a fine example of commercial heaviness: "White Knuckle Ride" teems with big, echo-laden choruses that, unfortunately, don't stop until they grate, especially when hung on synthetic sounding drums as in the acoustically-tinged "Rescue Me", but give an extra kick to the groovy rockers such as the organ-oiled "Work It Out".

Light enough to dent pop charts, it's a perfect AOR-FM fodder, yet now this document of the plastic era feels mosty dated. Still, Greg Walker's guitar shines on "Backfire" and "Little Lady", a catchy rock 'n' roll which employs every lyrical cliche there is, and the infectious "Don't Turn Your Back" with its sharp riffage is impossible to ignore. A feel-good music from the sunshine times, the album has much to be enjoy... and why not do so?

***1/2

Dizzying heights, hard to scale, can't tame the Dutch ambition to go rock-climbing in order to reach progressive Shambala.

From the day when the fire was dying: the Englishmen's final statement makes its CD debut. But intimate it isn't.

Mostly remembered by "The Day The Earth Caught Fire", held in high esteem by many a modern hard rocker, the Birmingham's quartet kept an even profile in all seven years of their existence marked by seven albums of decent quality. Still, when it came to this, their last one, Mutt Lange wasn't on board anymore, and the times had changed. Strangely, it was an era when their kind of commercial hard rock dwelled in the charts, so why "It's Personal" flopped remains an enigma.

Perhaps, the answer lies in the last track, the sprightly "Exit The Heavyweights", which outlines the band's new, lighter modus operandi, whereas the songs like "It's No Ordinary Life" ride the bouncing keyboard lines but have no real hooks. There is some good rocking on the album, like in the bass-and-organ-laden AOR of "Lovers", but the foursome clearly lost their way here. And though the reggae of "The Blind Leading The Blind" is indeed memorable, it lacks humor that fills the title cut's swaggering swing. The best thing on offer is "Names And Addresses" with its catchy chorus and great guitar work: it could have been a hit single and saved the ensemble from the break up. Sadly, it wasn't and didn't, yet "It's Personal" stood the taste of time surprisingly well to feel refreshing even now.

***1/2

Frozen moments of the Cold War era make for beautiful musical patterns. A tale of defectors from the ones who wouldn't betray their style.

West coast going East, country rock meets English folk and a certain PINK FLOYD member.

Perhaps, it was the sunny mood of Californian bands that seduced British rockers such as BRONCO, but only UNICORN played this game to the full, having caught the attention of David Gilmour. The guitarist enjoyed their laid-back groove enough to come from under the "Dark Side" shadow and produce this, the band's second album, but the FLOYD connection is just an excuse to explore the trees behind the wood.

It's easy to get lost in the jangly guitars and tight harmonies of "Just Wanna Hold You", with its Dylan intonations and Youngian ache, and the opening "Electric Night" which even EAGLES wouldn't be ashamed of, yet it's an English misty-eyed patina that makes it all so alluring, especially in ballads like the piano-splashed "The Farmer" and "Autumn Leaves" that are subtly adorned with Gilmour's pedal steel. The same withering, yet uplifting feeling fills the funky "Rat Race" that is driven by electric keyboards yet features Kevin Smith's exquisite acoustic guitar solo, but the urgent "In The Gym" shows the rockier, and radio-friendly, side of UNICORN - and Pat Martin's bass wonders. There's much to like here, and there's no better Indian summer album if you need one.

****

One of the future HAWKLORDS dons his glam spacesuit and rockets heavenward - from the personal hell.

The starmaker goes it alone to shine for himself - with heavy guests for an extra brightness.

Now the man behind the British Walk of Fame, in the '70s David Courtney was the mastermind behind Leo Sayer's career and Roger Daltrey's solo course, producing and writing songs of sheer brilliance. So it seemed like just the matter of time before he'd release a record of his own, and the time came in 1975 with "First Day", an ambitious project which now sees the light of day in its entirety, with seven bonus tracks rounding off the story of what a stardom is.

Here "Silverbird" that launches and finishes the album but previously served as an axis for Sayer's debut LP is re-imagined as a lush instrumental piece awashed with full orchestra and choir to soar to the vertiginous heights of success, while its downside is measured in "When Your Life Is Your Own", the last track on the original vinyl, with David Gilmour's economic space guitar. Yet it's as grand as the drift gets, while most of the songs fare in the comfortable soft rock territory, "Stranded" flowing like a gentle river with piano ripples and the lively "My Mind" bathing in the surf harmonies, but the slide-oiled "You Ain't Got Me" jibes at Dylan's "I Ain't Got You", even vocally, and "It's Oil For You" has a Latin flavor to it. It's hard to go wrong with such strong pop melodies as in the light "If You Wanna Dance" with its sirtaki middle section and players like Russ Ballard and BJ Cole, yet Courtney's voice, though good, lacks individuality required to dent the charts.

Still, previously unreleased '30s pastiche "Lazy Old Moon" with its virtuoso acoustic guitar, "Broken Leaves" which sees David's piano coated in lyrical strings and bravura brass, and the rocking "Think It Over" could have been hits, and the warmness of it all is extremely charming to grow on anyone.

****