The power and the glory

Kingdom Come - Sir Lord Baltimore (1970)

In the early days when rock was still hardening, the power trio Sir Lord Baltimore erupted with an album boosting the frenzy to a new level. Losing their keyboardist before the album sessions even began did not faze the group in the least. If anything, the remaining three members amped up their own contributions in creating a debut, Kingdom Come, for the ages.

The name Louis Dambra has not entered the lexicon alongside contemporaries like Tony Iommi and Ritchie Blackmore, but as soon as the riff-deranged "Master Heartache", (90/100), begins, one realizes one is listening to something equally explosive. The guitar squeals and burns no less than those of the aforementioned, even harkening at times to Alex Lifeson of a soon-to-be-formed power trio. John Garner busts out thundering vocals all over the scale while laying down a bombastic beat.

Everything is turned up even farther on "Hard Rain Fallin'", (93), (http://www.mediafire.com/?7c4698di3h67g21). How the strings don't melt on the guitar solos at :51 and 1:59 is as much a mystery as why this album languishes in obscurity. Gary Justin rounds out the heavy brew with flourish, acknowledging his murky bass inspiration by way of Jack Bruce, from a recently disbanded power trio of his own.

A Morrison-esque "Fi-yuhh!" begins the next track, appropriately enough, "Lady Of Fire", (87). With swagger befitting such a histrionic album, this song eschews conventional structures of the day, (establishing hard rock conventions of the future), with schizophrenic guitars all over the place, even bouncing back and forth on stereo channels. One particular riff brings to mind one that Deep Purple would later use on their 1973 hit, "Woman From Tokyo". The maniacal vocals here conjure a twisted cocktail of Lemmy Kilmister and Uli Jon Roth.

"Lake Isle Of Inersfree", (86), is the only song on the album for which co-producers Mike Appel and Jim Cretecos do not share co-writing credit with Dambra. Appel, who played in The Balloon Farm which charted "A Question Of Temperature" in 1967, also wrote songs for The Partridge Family, and the would go on to co-produce Bruce Springsteen's first three albums. Cretecos also co-wrote for the Partridges and was around to co-produce the first two Springsteen efforts in 1973.

"Inersfree", however, is a definite departure from everything else on Kingdom. The regal tones of harpsichord open the song and are soon complimented by twelve-string acoustic. As such, it takes a moment or two to reorient oneself, but the song delivers. Building from lost love lament to a powerful "What's become of my life?" denouement, the drastic turn in mood leaves a bold impression. No overt thematic connection is apparent to W.B. Yeats' similarly-titled poem "Lake Isle Of Innisfree" (1888), or to the Dick Farrelly song, "Isle Of Innisfree" (1950), aside from yearning, but for very different things.

The gusto returns in short order as side one ends with "Pumped Up", (90). The band plays as though feeling the need to make up for having committed the atrocity of an acoustic number. This insanity is full-scale, from the shriek of Garner's knife-edge howl to the delirious rhythm, but made especially and utterly manifest when Dambra's guitar literally solos at 2:15, leaving even the rest of the band behind (perhaps in Inersfree?).

Side two begins with the thick and fat riff of the title track, "Kingdom Come", (94). Like all good epics of the early 70s, this song's got tall ships in danger, sirens, wizards and a phoenix to keep those parts of one's mind occupied which are not completely liquefied by the unrelenting onslaught of double-tracked guitar. Alternately sludge-fuzzy and trumpet-sharp, this song, with its suitably bold title, is nothing less than a proclamation of rock arrival.

"I Got A Woman", (82), is a wild tribute to one who "make(s) love real" for the narrator. There is a nice instrumental passage beginning at 2:17 with just the rhythm section. The guitar soon falls in with a fevered riff to embody the passion being sung about. That passion is even more pronounced in "Hell Hound", (88). The "born to the midnight" woman celebrated in this emphatic song has triggered an emotional outburst of volcanic proportions. In spite of the by-now familiar bluster, an enigmatic shroud is generated.

The next track is more straightforward. Two instrumental passages open "Helium Head (I Got A Love)", (95), (http://www.mediafire.com/?edkc82w8k2yof5r). The first, an ascending riff embellished by squeaks of molten guitar and crazy drum rolls, is later in the song entrancingly augmented with moans like the chants of Benedictine monks. It gives way to a more hyper passage before insatiable vocals finally enter at 1:01. "Helium" repeats this structure into a blistering coda that rages unrestrained until basically burning itself out, everything fading away but the drums.

The album then concludes with its shortest song, "Ain't Got Hung On You", (92). In no way less vehement, the guitars, vocals and drums scratch, rasp and hammer one more time, giving a sonically big album a deservedly big finish. Stunned listeners to this day are looking for the number of whatever just hit them.

CD reissues of Kingdom begin with the title track and the rest of side two before going back to side one. Reason for the switch is unknown but not unprecedented. The Seventy Sevens also transposed the vinyl sides when their 1984 album All Fall Down was finally released on CD.

Sir Lord Baltimore never rocked as hard as on this album. They released a self-titled successor the next year, but even adding Dambra's brother Joey with another guitar to the mix could not possibly reach Kingdom levels. Work on a third album was aborted by the band breaking up, but was eventually reworked lyrically and released independently in 2006 as Sir Lord Baltimore III Raw. While certainly worth a listen, even at its most rollicking, it too cannot realistically be expected to match one of the most raucous albums ever recorded.

Kingdom Come (album): 90/100.

Sit and listen to 'em by myself

Songs For Singles - Torche (2010)

The band is tight, the music loud, but there is also an element of fun on Songs For Singles, beginning right with its double-edged title. While nothing here overtly suggests this collection of songs is better suited to the lonely or solitary, they are, however, short and radio friendly. Well, to a hard rock station, anyway. But the songs generally stick to less than the three-and-a-half minute radio breaking point. As a matter of fact, only the last two songs run any longer than 2:17.

The songs are bite-sized portions of massively heavy riffs, one flowing effortlessly into another. It has the illusory effect of casting an album full of little songs into one twenty-two minute epic.

Singles opens with "U.F.O.", (82/100), a rumbling behemoth which somehow incorporates all its raw energy and fury into one minute and fifty-three seconds. The song first appeared in demo form on Phoning It In: A Hydra Head Digital Sampler (2010), adopting the squeals, grunts and otherwise enthusiastic vocalizations of David Lee Roth from Van Halen's 1978 "Runnin' With The Devil". While having an odd charm and even an unexpected appropriateness to it, Steve Brooks' vocals on the album version transfer the song to the more disenchanted 2010s, with the music sounding even bigger.

"Lay Low", (78), is the album's shortest number, clocking in at fifty-one intense seconds. The guitar is sharp and lots of cymbal is employed. Similar to something by a band like The Sword, for example, this song magnifies big noise without ever losing control of its melody.

With all this rampant aggression, perhaps Torche's greatest accomplishment on the album is somehow mitigating the rough edges by their smooth playing. Make no mistake, these songs are fast and boisterous. Volume is not spared, nor passion sacrificed. The music gains power by precision but without overpowering and destroying its own listeners.

One example of this is a great guitar solo on "Hideaway", (82), the second part of which, around 1:09, manages to produce a nice screech that does not deteriorate into annoyance. The song's entirety lasts only two seconds more than two minutes, but again, packs a punch its size belies.

Another example is the blunt, imposing beat that beckons war as "Arrowhead", (85), begins. When the vocals and guitars enter with an ardour that could incite armies into final combat, the threat does not extend to listeners. Of course, any battle with this song as its cry would have to conclude within 2:17, anyway.

A recurring screech almost becomes a chorus in the first part of "Shine On My Old Ways", (87). Astonishingly, three distinct sections are evident in a song twelve seconds shy of two minutes. The screechy intro gives way to what must constitute a bridge around :50, before riding a drum-heavy feedback-fired instrumental from 1:20 to its finish. Again, the result is invigorating as opposed to irritating.

"Cast Into Unknown", (85), is the last of the particularly short numbers, accomplishing all its rocking in 2:11. The guitars are really charged here, featuring another outstanding long (relatively speaking) solo and extended power-chord fadeout.

Then, finally breaking the three-minute barrier is "Face The Wall", (90), a deliberate trudge pushed by a hefty double-beat spurred by ever-encroaching guitars. Taking its sweet time, this leisurely (again, relatively speaking) rocker easily executes its four-and-a-half minutes. It actually seems too soon when it collapses and closes in its own feedback frenzy.

After all this, with its six minutes and ten seconds, "Out Again", (92), (http://www.mediafire.com/?72u42rycqzo2t5s), is palpably epic. The song's two verses and choruses are finished by 1:30, which leaves the remainder of the song a colossal coda. Settling into a hypnotic groove which lasts longer than any other complete song on the album, the band showcases its prowess one final time, crafting an infectious riff and a storm of elation around it.

One never really gets a chance to get very comfortable or catch their breath on this fast and furious album, but that does not discredit Songs For Singles in any way. There is certainly nothing wrong with brevity and straight-to-the-point feels refreshing in a long-winded world. Probably not an album to doze into sleep with, but as a rock workout, it is hard to match.

Songs For Singles (album): 85/100.

Another somebody done somebody wrong song

Violator - Depeche Mode (1990)

Violator is a well-produced album. Depeche Mode, along with co-producer Flood (Mark Ellis), build songs upon thick layers of sound. Thus, the songs crafted here gain depth from always being sonically engaging and lyrically thought provoking. Being musically daring creates an atmosphere of danger where the production polish never detracts from the dark ambience.

"World In My Eyes", (86/100), begins the album with an ominous sense of foreboding, effected in part by a sinister synth line, doctored and distorted at times, a breathy, infectious beat and the trademark glum delivery of Dave Gahan. The menacing mood of the song would lend itself quite well to some noir spy film, establishing an atmosphere of intrigue curious listeners can't help but succumb to.

Songwriter Martin Gore takes the vocals on "Sweetest Perfection", (88), without disturbing the mood at all. If anything, the haunted string section and discordant tones here only take it up a notch. More and more sounds are added to the mix, each melting and rotting before your ears, as the song's intensification seems to bring it to the very brink of abandon. "Sweetest" compounds itself, a clever analogy of the decay that addiction multiplies, until it ends the only way it really can, abruptly.

Is there light at the end of this dark tunnel? "Personal Jesus", (92), is, of course, one of Depeche Mode's best known songs, covered by a long list that includes Swedish rock n' roller Jerry Williams and American Man In Black, Johnny Cash. Propelling along lines of faith and forgiveness, the real illumination of this song is in truly being there for someone when they need it. How much more tolerable a place the world would be if the proverbs, platitudes and principles so easily dropped from our mouths were actually acted upon.

"Halo", (88), shines a light of another sort. Exposing those who use guilt to manipulate others, this song affirms the beneficial beauty of forgiveness. Likening guilt to "chains" and "shackles," the inherent need to both wilfully allocate and humbly accept grace becomes evident. The strange chords and especially the harmonies of the chorus are remarkable, while a gust of strings takes the song through its fade out.

Next, "Waiting For The Night", (87), is a soft ode to the protective powers of twilight. If you can't hurt what you can't see, this song finds relief in a tranquil, escapist shell, shielded by a shroud of darkness granting a manner of self-assured invincibility through invisibility. "Waiting" seeks asylum by squinting its eyes and covering its ears, which subtly speaks to the kinds of horrors in a world that could drive someone to this.

The yearning for placid stillness continues in "Enjoy The Silence," (100), a song anyone with a penchant for words should heed. Gore's lyrics remind us that "words are trivial ... forgettable ... unnecessary." Politicians, speakers, writers, really anyone who is tempted to open their mouth at some point in time, would do well to consider that the action of the tongue, even well-intentioned, is too often destructive. What we believe will be naturally, and thus more authentically, borne out by actions. Of course, people in need, which is everyone in one way or another, are more likely to be helped by doing something, as opposed to running ragged tongues at them. There's probably more to say about all this, but I fear I've already drooled too many words here. The song with its iconic video can be viewed at: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dp2mH9nrz60).

For those of the opinion there is no such thing as too much of a good thing, a fifteen-minute "Quad: Final Mix" is available on the Enjoy The Silence CD-single, along with no less than five other remixes. This song was also remixed in 2004 by Mike Shinoda as "Enjoy The Silence (Reinterpreted)" on Remixes 81-04, and released as a single with a Goldfrapp remix of "Halo" as the b-side.

On Violator, "Enjoy The Silence" is followed by the hidden interlude, "Crucified", a short instrumental, except for one unsettling machine-mangled cry of the title. Then, "Policy Of Truth", (90), examines the cost of honesty in a world of lies. Again, this song seems to prefer to stay in the dark, as it were, away from where truth hurts and no good deed goes unpunished. Even the hypocrisy of expecting honesty when we ourselves are seemingly incapable of giving it is cynically questioned. In a world where every word we hear is tainted with distrust from its very inception, greater significance is placed once again on the things we actually do.

It reminds me of the bridge of the song "Strange Days", from the Swirling Eddies' Outdoor Elvis, (1989), penned by Terry Scott Taylor alter ego, Camarillo Eddy: "And when we took the torch into the night/ We vowed to search the highways for an honest man/ But when we looked into each other's eyes/ We knew it would be best to make some other plan." Also coming to mind is Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein's seventh proposition: "What we cannot speak of, we must pass over in silence," (Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 1921).

Whether one agrees or not with the song's conclusions, or even if its dire verdict is presented literally or ironically, is almost irrelevant. "Policy Of Truth" affords one the opportunity to contemplate their own values, if there is expediency in lying, if bliss can be truly found in ignorance, or if the ideal of truth is worth keeping completely uncompromised. Conversely, if one does not want to indulge this reflective flavour, "Policy" can be danced to just as well. Musically energetic, a cool recurring guitar twang and beefy brass section help carry these heavy ideas.

Gore grabs the mic for a second turn at vocal duty with "Blue Dress", (83). This song comes out of the shadows long enough to appreciate the kind of authentic happiness which springs from the seemingly smallest of things. Sounds reverberate frequently until the echoey bloops morph into another brilliantly bizarre hidden interlude, titled "Interlude No. 3".

This leads into Violator's final track, "Clean", (93), (http://www.mediafire.com/?gj5ya24fb036t7q). Perhaps as hopeful as Depeche Mode gets, the song leaves its dirty past behind for a better, brighter future. Even so, each change is acknowleged realistically with a chilling, robotic "Sometimes" tempering any unbound optimism. The candid attitude is refreshing, recognizing the future is not easily understood or predicted and that no breakthrough is itself unbreakable. Less sunny than sensible, "Clean" understands its slate is only that for one moment at a time and concludes an excellent album excellently.

The 2006 reissue includes the b-sides from Violator's various singles as bonus tracks. From Personal Jesus comes the catchy, masochistic "Dangerous", followed by the instrumentals "Memphisto" and "Sibeling" from Enjoy The Silence. Both conceive an austere vibe suitable for the closing credits of a sad film, with the former favoured for its intensity. Perhaps the best of all the b-sides, though, is "Kaleid" from Policy Of Truth. Also instrumental, there is a charged guitar base evocative of the Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" supplying the exhilarating energy of this tune. Finally, the sadistic "Happiest Girl (Jack Mix)" and the impetuous "Sea Of Sin (Tonal Mix)" from the World In My Eyes single revisit some of the album proper's major themes.

What it does not include is the myriad of remixes also available on each respective single and elsewhere. A-sides, b-sides and Violator album cuts have all been reimagined time and again over the years, no doubt sending completists into fits.

Examples of highlights would include the "Personal Jesus (Kazan Cathedral Mix)" from the Sire Records sampler Just Say Da: Volume IV Of Just Say Yes, and the stripped down "bare" versions of "Waiting For The Night" and "Clean" from special releases of DM's 2005 album, Playing The Angel. ("Waiting" comes from iTunes preorders, while "Clean" from the album's limited DVD edition).

Be it even treading the dancefloor, one may come away from this album with a sense that action is truth. I believe my next actions will be to give Violator another listen before retiring to a time of silence, both of which will be enjoyed ...

Violator (album): 89/100.

In my life i love you more

Songs In The Key Of Life - Stevie Wonder (1976)

Acclaimed critically and commercially from its release, Stevie Wonder's Songs In The Key Of Life further advances and likely culminates Wonder's journey from the whizkid hijinks of "Fingertips" to the groovy maturity of Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974).

Much is written of the painstaking attention to detail Wonder poured upon the production of these two LPs and the accompanying EP. The sheer quality and quantity of original material generated and released all at once is as prolific and ambitious as it is groundbreaking.

Only George Harrison, with All Things Must Pass (1970), and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, with Will The Circle Be Unbroken (1972), had previously released studio triple-albums. While each a classic, the magnitude of Wonder's creative energy is unrivalled. Harrison's third disc is simply a jam session, while Nitty Gritty worked live-in-the-studio with a number of hall-of-fame guests on standards and covers.

The only other triples released by this time were live recordings from the likes of Charles Mingus, the Grateful Dead, Yes, Leon Russell, Keith Jarrett, Santana and Emerson, Lake & Palmer; or compilations with multiple artist contributions such as 1970's Woodstock: Music From The Original Soundtrack And More, 1971's The Concert For Bangladesh and The First Great Rock Festivals Of The Seventies: Isle Of Wight/Atlanta Pop Festival. It is also worth noting that the inimitable Harry Partch dropped Delusion Of The Fury in 1971, a double-live album with a bonus disc demonstrating the instruments he had created.

In total, Songs In The Key Of Life contains over one hundred minutes of high-grade music. Boasting twenty-one tracks, each was brand new, innovative and destined to remain relevant and esteemed for years to come.

Our friend, the announcer, welcomes listeners to the album to begin "Love's In Need Of Love Today", (92/100), and all I can say, even all these years later, is 'amen, brother. Amen." Whatever it is that we manage to accumulate over our lives just ends up being too much of it. Meanwhile, like Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway sang in 1972, "Where Is The Love?" As Hal David wrote in 1965, "it's the only thing that there's just too little of."

"Have A Talk With God", (93), sounds like it's ripping the vinyl in half while laying down its heavy synth hook. Slightly evocative of the bass synth of "Boogie On Reggae Woman", it will at least tear its way into your temporal lobe. It's just one of many sonic treats on this awesome track, all played by Wonder himself. Stevie's brother, Calvin Hardaway, helped write the song, one of only four on the album that Stevie shares credit for.

Simply Stevie and his synthesizer, "Village Ghetto Land", (72), draws attention to the deplorable living conditions that many people suffer through. The song's paucity, especially in contrast with the symphonic grandiosity elsewhere on the album, is perhaps a picture of the disparity between the haves and have-nots. Not surprising, "Village" is co-written by the social conscience of Gary Byrd, who turns up again later. "Contusion", (85), is instrumental funk, not counting a few do-do-do's, and features the guitar stylings of Michael Sembello. The feeling is light and animated.

"Sir Duke", (90), and "I Wish", (88), remain radio staples to this day. Over some of the happiest trumpets I've ever heard, the former, Wonder's shout-out to Duke Ellington and "music's pioneers", becomes both a tribute and a prime example of the joy of music itself. "I Wish" is a nostalgic look at childhood, especially the mischief thereof. Both songs reached the top of the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S.

Playing every instrument on "Knocks Me Off My Feet", (91), Wonder takes a slow piano melody and escalates it into a colossal declaration of love. Wonder's drumming, particularly on high-hat as the chorus takes off, is especially enthralling.

Wonder samples Bach in "Pastime Paradise", (95), developing one of the most infectious hooks ever laid down on reel-to-reel. Coolio (featuring L.V.) sampled Wonder on his own "Gangsta's Paradise" in 1995, ensuring its neccesary heredity to another generation. It also features exotic percussion and the chanting tones of a Hare Krishna choir, giving this album another slight connection to George Harrison. The strings render an unearthly quality to the song that the Krishnas along with a gospel church choir bring to a spirited climax.

Like "Knocks Me Off My Feet", "Summer Soft", (93), begins with laid-back piano verses which gradually build to uptempo choruses, this time comparing lost love to the changing of the seasons. Soul-jazz grinder Ronnie Foster, who had already covered Wonder's "Superwoman" on his 1972 album, Sweet Revival, contributes cool organ vibes to this tune. There may not be a more sprightly lament than this.

Reality seems to set in on "Ordinary Pain", (97), (http://www.mediafire.com/?aaozxz08e1vh5zf), though. A breakup song written from both parties' perspective, this could really be two songs for the price of one. Stevie delivers mid-tempo sorrow at the outset, but finds no sympathy as the song explodes into an unrelenting funk assault at 2:42. Shirley Brewer's wickedly stunning reply is only amplified by her background vocalists out for blood.

Featuring the cries and coos of his newborn daughter, as well as the distinctive wail of his chromatic harmonica, "Isn't She Lovely?", (82), quickly became one of Wonder's most popular songs. Receiving frequent radio airplay despite never being released as a single has also led to it being one of Wonder's most covered. The jazzy ambience makes it a natural for artists like Frank Sinatra, but others as diverse as Keb' Mo', Me First And The Gimme Gimmes, even Clair Huxtable on a 1986 episode of The Cosby Show, have added their interpretations to the list.

Wonder slows it down on "Joy Inside My Tears", (93), without sacrificing any funk. The pace actually allows the emotion to simmer slowly, while Wonder takes his time laying down a thick and mellow groove. Passion unfolds through spontaneous vocalization, intensifying the song's resonance. "Joy", then, manages an immediacy absent in many meandering ballads.

For those who won't dance without educational incentive, "Black Man", (83), connects the brain and heart to the feet. Most noble in concept, demonstrating that our history's advancements have come through contributions from all races and genders, the execution leans a little pedantically. Notwithstanding, try sitting still through this one. It is also co-written by Byrd and seems a dress rehersal for a future epic single of his own. Recorded by Gary Byrd And The GB Experience seven years later, "The Crown" was co-written and produced by Wonder, who contributed vocals to a verse as well.

The chorus of "Ngiculela - Es Una Historia - I Am Singing", (78), is sung through in Zulu and Spanish before the English translation comes in. Once again, Wonder is singing of his devout desire that "love will reign throughout this world of ours." "If It's Magic", (72), upholds that aspiration with Wonder's voice backed only by the enchanted strumming of celebrated jazz harpist Dorothy Ashby (and just a touch of Stevie's mouth harp towards the end).

The album proper then closes with no less than two tremendous finishes. "As", (96), (http://www.mediafire.com/?7q8inr7ju7ckp7x), lists all of the impossible things that will happen before Wonder stops "loving you". Herbie Hancock lends his considerable skills on Fender Rhodes but this song is convincing foremost in its absolute exuberance.

Then "Another Star", (97), revolves around a latin rhythm inciting a festive energy, relentless until its fadeout. Amongst abundant flute, brass, timbales, even George Benson's guitar, Wonder's drumming once again takes command, driving the song -- and album -- to well-deserved classic status.

The A Something's Extra bonus record is a mini-33 1/3 EP that accomplishes being just what it purports to be. While not containing anything absolutely essential, it does present four more songs, a little extra something to tack on to the experience. Something's begins with "Saturn", (74), Wonder's escapist utopian fantasy. Co-written by Sembello who also contributes lead guitar to the track, the ringed gas giant is apparently the planet to be if you want to "live to be two hundred and five".

"Ebony Eyes", (75), is a Tin Pan Alley love song with an odd Broadway feel to it. For one final obscure George Harrison link, Wonder calls for a saxophone solo at 1:33. It is played by Jim Horn, who first played for Harrison during 1971's The Concert For Bangladesh, and ended up on a number of Harrison albums over the years through to Cloud Nine (1987) and the two Traveling Wilbury efforts.

"All Day Sucker", (77), is one final total funk-out before "Easy Goin' Evening (My Mama's Call)", (85), ends the album with an appropriately breezy harmonica-fueled instrumental.

While the key of life naturally alternates through sharps and flats, majors and minors, Stevie Wonder's album capably embodies all of it and is a worthwhile listen at any point.

Songs In The Key Of Life (album): 88/100.

Perfect in weakness

Perfecta - Adam Again (1995)

Taking a page from the Fleetwood Mac playbook, Adam Again lead singer/songwriter/guitarist/ keyboardist/producer Gene Eugene (nee Andrusco) and his wife, Adam Again vocalist Riki Michele (nee Michele Bunch), had divorced a year prior to this album's release.

Pressing on together as bandmates, the result is an understandably raw and therefore real album. Seeking and ultimately realizing a new dynamic in the heartbroken aftermath, Perfecta serves as the creative fulcrum upon which honest emotions are negotiated. To the credit of all parties involved, the album never threatens to careen into bitterness, while allowing authentic emotion, no matter how frayed, coarse, confused, vulnerable or pensive, to manifest.

"Stone", (85/100), begins the album with a mid-tempo recollection of the painful day it all fell apart. Eugene delivers the lyrics with just a hint of a catch in his throat with Michele providing wonderfully harmonic background support. In the absence of comprehension that often results from tragedy, the next step can be one in the dark with the weight of a mountain on your shoes. Still, a sense of humour is displayed with a great line in the last verse: "This song's not about me at all ... do you believe me now?"

A vain "hold on!" can then be heard just as the drums and guitars of "Strobe", (85), commence. A catchy rhythm is punctuated with cool synth bursts and impossibly impassive vocals. The simple structure of the verses, nursery-level rhyming quatrains, effectively sets up the last verse's dry punchline.

The tone of the album takes a harder turn with "All You Lucky People", (90). The guitars rev up a positively raucous fury, an intensity they maintain over the next half-dozen tracks. It's a stern account of the void that has replaced the familiar and the loved. The turbulent melody reveals the lack of comfort and the realization of how much has been lost.

"All Right", (92), begins with a haunting acoustic strum before the electric guitars return when a feedback surge ruptures at :42. The song structure follows this pattern which likely mimics the fragile nature of composure in times of great loss. One grasps longingly at scraps of solace just out of reach and even when attained, one's grip is tenuous at best. The bridge at 2:50 absolutely erupts with Michele's background vocals, even while the choruses offer self-reassurance amidst the storm.

The ragged nerve endings also find expression in "Harsh", (87), a good riddance song offered with stream-of-consciousness lyrics and a wry grin. "If there is somewhere you need to be," the singer deadpans, "don't make it here with me." Charged with an extended and somehow serrated instrumental coda, "Harsh" effectively and engagingly blows off a lot of steam.

The "Air", (88), is pretty heavy over the next tune too. Riff-dominated, the rowdy rocker uncovers the delicate balance between the good things and the bad things that life brings. Guitarist Greg Lawless' industrious contributions on this album cannot be overlooked.

If it were possible, the guitars are turned up even further to barrage for the next two songs. Eugene once said in an interview that Perfecta was the result of a three-year jam session. Nowhere is that more apparent than on the monsters "Dogjam", (95), and "L.C.", (93). In "Dogjam", (http://www.mediafire.com/?c3c2qkpn5rf7qav), Eugene writes about a "three-legged dog." After his untimely passing in 2000, his other band, the songwriter quartet Lost Dogs, composed a tribute of sorts by that befitting title on their excellent 2001 Real Men Cry album. "L.C.", (http://www.mediafire.com/?rfil3ardqddnf1b), beginning where "Dogjam" left off, is a rollicking toast to "tears and rage" and Eugene countrymate Leonard Cohen. The Lost Dogs, with Eugene, notably covered Cohen's "If It Be Your Will" on The Green Room Serenade, Part One (1996).

Not that any previous songs have exactly beaten around the bush, as it were, but "Relapse", (95), blows whatever cover is left to kingdom come. With an honesty sadly too brutal for many, "Relapse" describes the severity of a pain that lies in wait to strike again when least expected. It's a song that makes sense to anyone who knows the difficulty of trying to convince people you're fine when you're really not because the last thing you need is to let anyone know you're feeling bad, as then they'll make you feel bad for feeling bad, which just exponentially compounds everything because all they really care about anyway is just making themselves feel better and protecting their fragile vault of artificial blue skies and fake smiles. Good luck with that.

The emotional transparency along with the musical severity seem to produce catharsis. From the cataclysm comes "Every Mother's Way", (93), an acoustic ode, beautiful to the point of tears. It has a "Street Spirit (Fade Out)" kind of vibe, but sparser. Refusing to ignore the reality of loss, its hard-wrought conclusion is boldly plain: "I'll struggle to survive, but I am alive."

"What's Your Name", (86), also starts out with a simple acoustic strum, but the electric guitars are not long in returning. Basically an electric ballad, then, "Name" tempers disappointment through reconciliation while cultivating a feeling of hopeful anticipation.

The grimmer mood resumes with "Unfunny", (84), though. Like "Relapse", this song throws a sneer at those who "can fake a laugh" or hide behind a joke rather than deal with equally real but unpleasant matters. To belabour the superficial Fleetwood Mac kinship, this song could be a thematic, rougher descendant of "Not That Funny" from Tusk (1979).

One-time Great White bassist, under the alias Tony Montana, Anthony Cardenas plays the four-string on "Try Not To Try", (83), (as well as on "Lucky People" earlier). Restoring the conviction of "Name", "Try" overcomes doubt and exhaustion, resolving an acceptance from which new beginnings can be forged.

It is this affirmation which affords the album to culminate with the soft and stoic "Don't Cry", (92). This song, which appeared in its original form on the 1993 Brow Beat: Unplugged Alternative compilation, is as tender and comforting as a goodbye can be. The agony may never completely vanish, but it is risen above here with gentle courage mustered in the confidence of honesty.

On Perfecta, Adam Again prove grief is not weakness. Facing their personal storms and trials with fortitude, the band can move resolutely past the all-too real anger and fear, all the while building a beautiful testament to truth.

Perfecta (album): 89/100.

Sugar sugar

Candy-O - The Cars (1979)

Thanks to radio and MTV, the Cars are a band often better remembered for their long string of pop hits and quirky videos. Candy-O, however, serves as a reminder that this was a band also built to rock. Sure enough, there are pop hooks aplenty here to allure and bedazzle, but once the ignition is turned, Candy-O traverses terrain both honey smooth and rocky, masterfully fusing the bright and loopy with a subtly dark underscore.

The familiar "Let's Go", (88/100), is up there with "Start Me Up", from the Rolling Stones' Tattoo You (1981), and Chicago's "Introduction" from The Chicago Transit Authority (1969), as most appropriate songs to open an album with. The perpetual radio play over the years may result in exposure fatigue, but is also a testament to the song's captivating quality. Benjamin Orr delivers Ric Ocasek's lyrics with a confident gleam.

Ocasek handles most of the vocals himself on "Since I Held You", (82). Mostly a sugar high of a song, it is somewhat offset by a guitar recurrently declaring its edge. It's almost like a little hint as to what is going to happen when Elliot Easton lets loose on this album. "It's All I Can Do", (90), was another hit single. The guitar is ace once again but the song, a wistful yearning, is highlighted by the woo of Greg Hawkes keyboard on the chorus and synth strings on the last verse.

Sometimes when "Double Life", (87), starts, I think "Let's Go" is beginning again. Of course, the tempo is a little slower and after the first chord change at :05, it is clearly headed in another direction. The Cars are a great background vocals band. On this tune, as usual, they are simple but effective, adding aural depth as well as being fun to sing along with.

"Shoo Be Doo", (90), is a bridge between songs, beginning before "Double Life" even fades out. In its mere minute-and-a-half, the dark undertow hinted at in all previous Cars songs finally surfaces. Like a car spinning out of control, it entraps its listeners in synth echo nightmare before abruptly dumping them at the title track.

"Candy-O", (93), (http://www.mediafire.com/?hw2dvuxo8v3p49e), then, slams on the gas and accelerates the album. The Cars rock harder here than anywhere else, with Easton's guitar thrust into the driver's seat. At 1:17 begins eight seconds of absolutely molten guitar. The solo, like the song itself, could easily unfurl into an endless and beautiful oblivion, but its brevity ensures nothing extraneous and preserves a polished totality, fostering a thirst for more.

That being the case, even though listeners on vinyl get a much needed chance to catch their breath here, the flip to side two is usually not long in coming.

"Nightspots", (84), is another whirlwind track, beginning with a bubbly synth riff accentuated by laser-sharp guitar, and concluding with the unsettling robotic mantra, "It's just an automatic line." There is a malevolently mechanical feel to the song and a bombastic energy that becomes more apparent the longer the song goes. It really takes off at 1:17 and the instrumental bridge from 1:31 to 1:46 is outstanding.

Pop sensibilities come to the foreground in "You Can't Hold On Too Long", (83), and "Lust For Kicks", (76). "Hold" begins with a classic rock-n-roll kick, while an irresistible chorus and more nice guitar work as the song winds down keep it from a feckless fate. "Lust" writhes under a sugary synth riff, chronicling a star-crossed crush. The tempo drags a bit here, perhaps it's rush hour, but I always liked the line, "He's got his butane flicker, she's got it worse."

Fortunately, the energy resurges with "Got A Lot On My Head", (85). The keyboards are more effective here and there are plenty of cool noises in the background of the verses. The confessional chorus, "I've got a lot on my head, most of it's you", divulges the underlying obsession pervading this album's tracks. Candy-O only has this theme in common with much of rock and pop music in general. Of course, it's only obsession if it's unrequited. Otherwise, we can dress it up as inspiration or devotion.

The Cars sure know how to finish off an album. On their eponymous 1978 debut, "All Mixed Up" rocks seriously. Here, "Dangerous Type", (94), (http://www.mediafire.com/?upotr1bkuko7gq8), equals if not surpasses it. The chord progression on the chorus indeed produces an apprehensive impression, where each instrument converges in tight synthesis. The vocals are stirring, the guitars dense and the keys brisk. David Robinson's drums are spry and resolute, beating out fills while the song escalates to exquisite sonic coalition before sadly fading out.

Not on the album, "That's It" surfaced as the b-side to the "Let's Go" single and then again on Just What I Needed: The Cars Anthology. A simple song about "letting it all go", it's another track sharpened by Easton's guitar. Also on Anthology, a sparse and menacing early demo of "Nightspots" with different lyrics, and "Slipaway", an unreleased track from this era but sonically set in the 1950s.

After Candy-O, the Cars seemed to veer more in the pop direction. This album, though, rocks harder than a twenty-year old jawbreaker while deftly avoiding being stale.

Candy-O (album): 86/100.

When the bullet hits the bone

Under The Skin - Lindsey Buckingham (2006)

Perhaps one of rock's most underrated guitarists, Lindsey Buckingham dropped his first solo album in fourteen years with 2006's Under The Skin. Buckingham has often used his solo albums to showcase some of his quirkier or more ambitious musical ideas, not suitable for a pop chart juggernaut like Fleetwood Mac. On Under, he also gets to work his acoustic chops, creating an album somehow both enthusiastic and easy-going.

Pondering the strange dichotomy of a critically lauded but commercially unsuccessful solo career, Buckingham opens the album by reassuring himself it's "Not Too Late", (80/100). He does so poignantly, looking into the eyes of his children, with a more sobering awareness that it likely is. The rumination simmers over wavy, sparkly guitar and, while one would hope Buckingham's blues would be tempered by having also been in a hugely prosperous band and all, the longing resonates with anyone who has ever felt unseen or unheard at one time and/or another.

The pace picks up on the next number, "Show You How", (88). The stripped down feel of the album is embodied by this track, with its so slight instrumentation and whisper-like vocals drenched in Buckingham-trademark harmonic echo. "Resurrection will come" when whatever shadows lurk in the past stay there. The reverb-steeped wispy vocals of the title track, (84), also strive to chase away shadows and doubt. Speaking as one who has been there, the singer offers empathetic support and "I'll shepherd you" is a sound salve for spiritual unrest.

The ethereal "I Am Waiting", (86), is the first of two covers on the album. Originally appearing on the Rolling Stones' 1966 Aftermath, this song traverses the strenuous, rambling, labyrinthine terrain of "waiting for someone to come out of somewhere." The waiting seems to pay off, however, in a lively "It Was You", (85). Delirious back-up vocals celebrate the long-awaited arrival of real love. Buckingham drops the names of his three children in this song, in each case an indication of the past's insignificance.

"To Try For The Sun", (88), features the sound of a guitar having a seizure. Buckingham's spastic playing lends palpitating energy to the album's second cover, this one a Donovan tune from 1965's Fairytale.

Even melancholy sounds sunny on Buckingham's fretboard. In "Cast Away Dreams", (92), (http://www.mediafire.com/?l2h6p9166it2g6u), the singer bemoans leaving a situation he would rather not have. Realizing just how rarely anything turns out the way it was planned doesn't make it easier to accept, however. "Hearts will break," Buckingham writes, "with choices we must make," but even on those faithless days where regret rules, he is reminded the "sun will rise in your newborn eyes."

Still, in "Shut Us Down", (95), (http://www.mediafire.com/?61i17l6d9vn6kcl), the singer is possessed by the singular determination to not leave ever again. The intensity manifest in the frenzied vocals and finger-picking are the efforts of a man fighting nothing less than fate itself and builds to tenacious crescendo incited by raw and desperate emotion. There is an extended version on Elizabethtown: Music From The Motion Picture, (2005).

With its slick background harmonies, "Down On Rodeo", (86), sounds the most like Fleetwood Mac of anything on Under. Not too surprising then is the appearance on this song by the rhythm section of John McVie and Mick Fleetwood. Fleetwood also sticks around for the next track, "Someone's Gotta Change Your Mind", (90), but other than those cameos, Buckingham plays everything on this album himself. The sounds of children playing embellish this ardent tune along with brass orchestration.

Lastly, "Flying Down Juniper", (84), rides a flamenco-esque rhythm to the place where even the harshest realities of the past finally do not eclipse the hope for the future.

Only a liar goes through life with a smile fixed to his face; likewise, only a liar never smiles. Just as only a fool embraces pain; likewise, only a fool ignores it. Lindsey Buckingham executes a good balance Under The Skin, dealing gut-level with the messy blood and bone of life without neglecting its very vitality.

Under The Skin (album): 87/100.