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6 Thursday, November 18, 1993 ft €> MUSICBMEPS Axe Hero by Rancid Hell Spawn. A+ This British combo has been wowing critics and fans alike for years with chart topping LPs like Jumpin' Jack Flesh and Chainsaw Masochist, and this album will not disappoint! Like Ministry doing bubblegum pop, they pump a cheesy Casio keyboard through a really noisy distortion pedal, turn it all the way up, and let it rock! The kids dig it, and how could they not with surefire hit singles like “Vermin Sewer Rat From Hell” and “I’m In Love With A Gangster’s Moll”? If you love a bunch of really short, stupid, noisy songs that all sound the same, then honey child us is the record for you. Linger Fickin odby Revolting Cocks. F+ This band is basically Ministry and their friends trying to do dance music. They’d been at it for a while before finally putting out a really decent record called Beers, Steers, and Queers in 1990. Nobody really expected the Revolting Cocks to make another record as good as Beers, Steers, and Queers, and nobody was mistaken. Replacing the catchy bass lines and pleasantly over-distorted drums with over production and lame attempts at humor, the Cocks have created an incredibly dull and unimaginative little record here. They cover “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy." TEE HEE! In a nutshell, the Cocks suck. No Borderline by Copernicus. A+ Boy, here’s some catchy stuff! If the idea of a kooky old gentlefellow spewing out pseudo-philosophical drivel like “Does that cigarette exist? Nothing exists! It’s all an illusion, my friend!” while overdone theatrical music and cheesy jazz flail around in the background appeals, then, my favorite sweetheart baby sugarplum, this is the record for you. Apparently this is his fifth record, so he must have some fans somewhere. It doesn’t kick my butt as hard as, say, the last Dis torted Pony album, but it definitely has its moments. Thunder Perfect Mind by Nurse With Wound. A+ This hot new slab of wax is sure to take Alternative Nation by storm! Sounding a lot like what Pearl Jam would sound like if they replaced Eddie Vedder with a bunch The Dead Milkmen, famous for 1985 s'f nue trademark poppy-punky sounds on their seventh release, 'Not Richard But Dick." LAST CALL $1 Draft f BIG CUPSJ THURSDAYS 173'/ii. franklin 9*7-4679 w > ]fW =r^=^ s ] HENRY'S tw\ bistro I * I N&a • • C s Fop I *• CHAf E U |+\uL \ *OO-15 W. £osEnva<2.Y Sr. 11 Wwvko,*-- . kfai-nao J of sound effects and fired everybody else in the band, this band has developed a devoted following with their clever blend of primitive noise, recorded samples and grungy synthesizer bloops. Although this CD contains only two tracks (the 24-minute “Cold” and the 33- minute "Colder Still), it’s bound to be right up there with Juliana Hatfield as the best progressive rock release of 1993. If you love amplified heartbeats and little beeping noises, then girlfriend honey child fiancee, this is the record for you. Perverted By Languageby The Fall. Line Records A+ Actually, this album came out in 1983, but it’s really good. Tenko Ikue Mori by Death Praxis. A+ Death Praxis are two pretentious Japa nese women who like to play electronic drums and wail out words in some weird language that’shard to understand. Kinda like the Indigo Girls except they don’t have a huge lesbian following. Alapalooza by “Weird Al” Yankovic. F+ I adore Mr. Yankovic. I own all seven ofhis previous albums. I’ve seen his movie three times. I even went to his concert with my mom. But this album sucks the skin right off my banana. He parodies “MacArthur Park,” for Chrissake! If you like crap, then dude-o-rama, check it out. Koksofen by Caspar Brotzmann Massaker. A+ This guy is a virtuoso guitarist, like Steve Vai or Ash Bowie, but this isn’t rock by any means. It’s tribal and weird and German and scary and aaaaaah. Good giggly-wiggly guitars, though! If you consider yourself a guitar fan, check this thing out. If you survive all five songs (61 minutes worth), consider yourself a true young rocker, just like Evan Dando. Word. Not Richard, ButDickby The Dead Milk men. A+ Catchy as Dad’s new fish. Most people forgot about this band after “Bitchin’ Camaro” topped the college charts back in ’BS, but they’re still at it, doing that simple, poppy-punky thing with the occasional wacky lyric. This is their seventh album, and, al though shorter than the central portions of F West lot, it is nevertheless bound to please with u.ieslike “The Infant ofPrague Customized My Van,” which is about how to preserve dead people so they don’t rot, and “I Dream Of Jesus,” about a woman who keeps Our Savior cooped up in a bottle. The lyrics aren’t nearly as wacky as you’d hope, but jeez-o-pete, the melodies get stuck in your head. MARK PRINDLE DIVERSIONS Music Tribe’s Third Grooves On With a Mellow Vibe If you are one of those people who only reads the first or last sentence of any par ticular review in order to find out the answer to your one question, I’ll make it easy on you: Yes, this CD is worth the $12.95 that it will cost you. True hip hop fans, read on. Midnight Marauders, the latest release from A Tribe Called Quest, the rap group by which other mellow acts are now measured, is on target. While ■fnvmfJflHTTßnß Marauders lacks some of Music Review the humor and - M|dnight Marauders' roughness of ... the Tribe’s first ** two albums, it is full of grooves and lyrics that other rappers are far from matching. The album is narrated by the Midnight Marauders Tour Guide, who sounds dis quietingly like Caroline. Her voice ap pears as the introduction to the album and as commentary on most of the songs. The album’s first song, “Steve Biko (Stir It Up)” is completely original and bears no resemblance to either Bob Marley’s or Peter Gabriel’s songs with those titles. It’s laid back with a smooth rhythm track, which contains Bobby McFerrin type body noises. The rappers’ soft-spo ken style remains refreshing even on their third album, with lyrics from Phife like, “I’ll take it back, I’m the Indian Giver/ MC’s take notes as I stand and deliver.” “Award Tour” is a great song that the Tribe played at their Memorial Hall con cert and is a flat-out hit. The drums are a Guitarist’s Acid Jazz Goes a Little Too Commercial Acid jazz has the same relationship to jazz that dancehall reggae has to reggae: purists don’t dig it, old folks don’t get it, but the kids understand. Jamaican-born guitarist Ronny Jordan, one of the key players in the acid jazz scene, will be familiar even to those who don’t follow obscure British trends: his song “No Time to Play” is one of the highlights of Gum’s Jazzmatazz, and his aesthetic vision—that hip hop and acous tic jazz are both branches of the same tree dominates Gum’s record. Jordan’s warm tone and fresh, soulful Fanclub’s ‘Thirteen’ Sticks in Your Head Pitythepoor state of rock and roll in the United Kingdom in the past few months. Indie-dance has come and gone, the “shoegazers” have been the target of sav age derision by the ever-fickle British mu sic press, and even the Suede backlash appears imminent. All Britain seems left with is a morass of techno-glop (even U 2 embraced techno with their latest album). Meanwhile, in America, rock and roll is flourishing. Up-and-com ers like the Smashing Pumpkins, Urge Overkill, MERRETOMOORy Music Review "Thirteen" A- the Breeders and Belly are poised to join heavyweights Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and REM at the top of the pop music moun tain. The Yanks have even managed to make major waves in Britain, much to the widely-publicized chagrin of the bands overseas. Hope is on the horizon for the Brits, though. This fall’s British releases include pleasant surprises from veterans james and The Wonder Stuff as well as a vastly im proved Blur. And now Teenage Fanclub is set to do major battle on both sides of the Atlantic with their current release Thir teen. Way back in 1991, just before “grunge” became a household word, TFC released Bandwagonesque , which SPIN magazine claimed was the “best album by white people in ten years.” Bandwagonesque was indeed an LP of simplistic brilliance. Owing a huge debt to Big Star and a smaller one to Neil Young, the Fanclub whipped out a classic batch of tunes which fondly recalled the glory days of rock and roll while sounding vitally fresh. Thirteen sees TFC back in fine form and not straying too far (thank heavenly good ness) from the formula which made the last album so superior. Like those on Bandwagonesque, the songs on Thirteen are mainly about one thing: Phife and Q-Tip's soft-spoken style is refreshing on "Midnight Maruaders," although the album lacks some of their previous humor and roughness. little more upbeat than on most of this album’s cuts, and the background synthe sizer has a cool melody. Q-Tip pushes it along with his lines: “Lyrically I’m Mario improvisa tional style, de void of cliches or predictable phrases, has made him one SCOTT TIMBERGj Music Review "The Quiet Revolution" B of England’s most popular jazz players. In Britain his status rivals that of tenor (and fellow 4th and B ’way artist) Courtney Pine. Unfortunately, Jordan shares with Pine not only considerable technical gifts and crossover charm but a weakness for muddy production and fusion-y instrumentation. Three quarters of The Quiet Revolution, England’s Teenage Fanclub explores heartache and bliss without sappiness on "Thirteen." Their affection for early 70s power pop is obvious, but they offer a tribute to it rather than simply mimicking the Big Star sound. girls talking to them, thinking about them, and being in love with them. TFC manages to explore the heartache and bliss of relationships without succumbing to the sappiness that you hear in so many songs about love. All of the tracks on Thirteen will stick in your head. Like the best Big Star tunes, these songs employ ragged harmonies and gently rocking rhythms, making them irre sistible to all but the most jaded rock and roll fan. Among the best cuts is “The Cabbage, ” a sort of heroic “Our love will conquer the world” tune that recalls the innocent charm of early 70s power-pop. Another gem is “Radio,” a rocker on which guitarist Raymond McGinley sings about the joys of riding in his car, “listening to the AM” and thinking about his girl. Andretti on the Momo/Ludicrously speedy or infectious with the slo-mo. ’’The chorus is smooth, and, background voices name off cities between verses. Jordan’s new one, is groovy, provocative, danceable stuff. The opening cut, “Season For Change,” featuring a didactic rant by Guru, offers both rhythmic drive and me lodic inventiveness. The record’s other highlights—“ Come With Me,” “Under Your Spell” reflect the first Brand New Heavies record in their simultaneously relaxing and invigo rating feel. Too bad “The Morning After” and “ Vanston Place” sound like out-takes from a Whitney Houston album complete with cheap organ washes, drippy sound effects On the all-too-brief “Ret Liv Dead” guitarist Norman Blake tries to convince himself to stop thinking about a lost love. When he exclaims in vain “I don’t know what to do,” you want to tell him that we’ve all been there before and that every thing will be alright. Other highlights include “Tears Are Cool, ” where McGinley croons to his lover over a jangly guitar riff, and “Gene Clark, ” a reference to the former Byrd, which would sound entirely in place on Neil Young’s 1969 album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. For those smart enough to buy an early copy of Thirteen, the album includes an additional six tracks. These bonus tracks include a faithful folkie rendition of Phil Ochs’s “Chord of Fame” and a catchy, playful cover of Gram TAR HEEL SPORTS SHORTS * Carolina Women’s Basketball Tungsram Hungarian Carmichael Auditorium UNC Students/Faculty FREE with IDjL llOiu EjKjL uJljp Daily (Tar Ippl A disappointing cut is “8 Million Sto ries,” which recounts bad things that hap pen in the city and remains pessimistic throughout. This is atypical of the Tribe’s style, and the group comes off sounding crabby. “We Can Get Down” has an old-school beat with a funky bass line, and sounds like it could have been on Tribe’s second album. Phife brings forth a smile with his rhymes: “I be three albums deep but I don’t wanna go pop/Too many candy rappers seem to be at the top.” The track that will really take you back to Tribe’s old stuff, though, is “Electric Relaxation,” which they also played at their concert here. Finally, some of their original sense of humor shines through, as Phife says, “I like ‘em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian/Name is Phife dog from the Zulu nation.” “Lyrics To Go” is a strange song with a psychedelic sample in the background but almost no drums. It seems like the listener is waiting for the beat to finally kick in during the whole tune, but it never does. Still, Q-Tip rescues the track with his lines: “If they’re in my path, I’ll overstep the critters/Give y’ass the willies and ya moms’ll get the jitters.” The slowest and mellowest tune on the CD is called “Keep It Rollin’.” This is a smooth track, and Phife kicks lyrics like, “Styles be fat like Jackie Gleason, the rest like Art Camey/People love the Dog like the kids love Barney.” Read the first sentence. and wan playing. And, though the drive is intact on “Tinsel Town,” the synth play ing could be right out of Kenny G. This kind of overproduction was typi cal of 70s jazz and early ’6os soul, but if Jordan’s trying to bring jazz to the masses he’s got to keep commercial pressures from rubbing the edge offhis music. Or perhaps The Quiet Revolution is aiming for Quiet Storm radio? Incidentally, the good Ronny Jordan can be heard on Island’s recent Rebirth of' Cool collection, along with Stereo MCs, MC Solaar and Freestyle Fellowship. Parson’s “Older Guys.” Some people will dismiss this album as a Big Star rip-off or yet another attempt by Generation Xers to live in someone else’s past. True, TFC may wear their Big Star influence on their sleeves and obviously love their early 70s power-pop records, but they rework these influences effec tively into a compelling sound for the ’9os. That is what rock and roll, in this decade, or any other for that matter, is all about. So maybe Teenage Fanclub will help uplift the malaise that currently exist in the British pop scene. At the end of “Norman III,” Norman Blake sings “Yeah, I’m in love with you/ And you know that its true” over and over again. It makes you want him, as well as Teenage Fanclub, to go on forever.
Daily Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, N.C.)
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Nov. 18, 1993, edition 1
6
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