The Smashing Pumpkins - "Pisces Iscariot" (1994)

Rating: 8

Sure, he brought it on himself, but I find it a shame that Billy Corgan is mostly known as a crackpot, or worse, the bald guy with the shitty voice. I don't think he is (or was) quite a genius, but perhaps the Smashing Pumpkins' relatively disappointing fade-out post Mellon Collie shouldn't have been such a surprise. Consider the lengths of their first three albums:

Gish: 45:45

Siamese Dream: 62:17

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness: 121:39

Then throw in this album, an excellent 57-minute collection of B-sides and outtakes and you've got over 4 hours and 45 minutes of quality Pumpkins, or seven normal-length vinyl records. So where a non-fan might see the lukewarm reception to their fourth and fifth albums (and subsequent breakup) and think they were some flash in the pan, they were really just victims of hanging around too long and letting Corgan make an ass of himself in the media one too many times. His prime may have been relatively short, but he wrote 10 or 15 years worth of music for some bands in four years.

Oh yeah, Pisces Iscariot. It has the best reputation of the various compilations of the band's unreleased tracks (yes, there are several) but I was a bit skeptical that they really had another full album's worth of good material considering it only draws on the recording sessions for two albums (Gish and Siamese Dream). And yet, I find this better than Gish and their third-best 'album' overall. It has a surprisingly good flow for a compilation, alternating between typical Pumpkins rockers and lighter, more evocative material. Corgan not only doesn't embarrass himself covering "Landslide," he does almost as good a job as Fleetwood Mac!

What I find particularly refreshing is that it largely lacks the epic ambitions of their first three studio albums and instead most of the tracks clock in between 2.5 and 4 minutes. Though this ambition is what made the group great at their best, it could be their downfall as well, so the result is that Pisces Iscariot is much more consistent, if lacking the stunning high points of Siamese Dream or Mellon Collie. 

That said, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there is one major exception here to the previous paragraph - the 11-minute "Starla" which definitely qualifies as a stunning high point in my book. As this album demonstrates quite well, there are two major components to the group's sound: loud, distorted alternative rock meets heavy metal and lush, dreamy soft pop. I find they are at their most compelling when they combine the two in the same song, and "Starla" is a great example of this. Beginning with a quiet arpeggiated opening, they bring in a gruff riff, slowly building the song to a crescendo before dropping to a quiet fadeout five minutes in, seemingly the end of the song. Not so! Instead, Corgan comes to the fore with nearly six minutes of Hendrix-esque guitar soloing as he scrapes every bit of unearthly noise he can get out of his instrument. It's ridiculous and should be terrible, and yet somehow, it's the best thing here. And that is the essence of the Smashing Pumpkins.

Bob Dylan - "New Morning" (1970)

Rating: 8

Although it is my opinion that Dylan would never again reach the astounding heights of Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde (and that includes Blood on the Tracks, which although it would probably make my purely hypothetical Hall of Fame Album Pyramid, wouldn't make the Pantheon), my recent listening to his immediate post-Blonde oeuvre certainly hasn't been unrewarding. Although I agree with the critical masses that his infamous Self-Portrait was a misfire, I also don't think it deserves infamy. Yet he released several good to great albums during this stretch, including John Wesley Harding, Nashville Skyline, and New Morning, released just four months after Self-Portrait. My main criticism of him during this stretch is not that he lost his genius, but that his genius was unfocused, manifesting itself on a handful of songs per album only. This is somewhat the case on New Morning, but there is enough strong material to recommend it.

On this album, Bob largely ditches the guitar and focuses primarily on rambling piano ballads. Being Dylan, his piano-playing is unpolished, his vocals are abrasive at times, and especially due to the short length (35 minutes), it isn't hard to imagine it being knocked off in four months. Yet he is also more direct and heartfelt on this album than he had really ever been until this point, and he conveys a genuine warmth and sweetness. Although this is nowhere near as momentous a record as his earlier stuff and has too much filler for me to call it a masterpiece (witness the awful beatnik spoken-word "When Dogs Run Free"), the best songs here are also spiritually akin in that Dylan's humanity shines through like almost no other rock songwriter can manage.

For example, I was already familiar with the opening track "If Not For You," as covered by George Harrison on All Things Must Pass. After hearing Harrison's glorious Phil Spector-ized version with its wall of acoustic guitars, the much more low-key Dylan version with its significantly dinkier organ part and ramshackle feel passed me by on the first listen. And yet now, I am overwhelmed by the homely charm of the Dylan rendition and although the Harrison version is hard to beat, it's much closer than I ever would have thought.

The other major highlight for me is "Sign On the Window" which has the closing verse:

Built me a cabin in Utah

Marry me a wife, catch a rainbow trout

Have a bunch of kids who call me Pa

That must be what it's all about

Out of context, these lyrics seem almost embarrassingly naive. But in the context of the rest of the lyrics. ("Sign on a porch says, 'Three's a crowd'"), the tone is much more wistful. And in the context of the music, when you hear his rueful vocals in conjunction with his piano, it's deeply moving. Although Dylan is about the lyrics first and foremost (contrary to what the contrarians will have you believe), the way he sings the lyrics is just as important as how they are written down on paper, which is what nearly all the singer-songwriters who followed in his footsteps forgot. Keeper!

Spirit - "Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus" (1970)

Rating: 8

Judging by the album cover, this one looked like a bust. Or I suppose it would have, if I hadn't already known this to be a fairly acclaimed record. And indeed, Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus is just as trippy as the title and the album cover would imply, but it is also a potent brew. I am not quite sure how to describe the sound, which is at least one sign of a good record, or at least a unique one. There are elements of jazz, folk, and hard rock, but with spacey guitars and processed vocals. Maybe it's a stretch, but in places, it reminded me of Animal Collective, though I suppose Spirit is slightly more restrained. That's another sign of a good record, though, for although the vibe of the record is dated, the sound is quite modern. Overall, I was very impressed, although I think they sometimes go overboard in trying to be weird and psychedelic, so I wouldn't quite call it a lost masterpiece. But a very good record? Hell yes! Keeper!

Big Star - "Radio City" (1974)

Radio City, along with its predecessor, #1 Record, is one of those albums that music enthusiasts and critics all rightly revere, citing its influential qualities, reveling in its blissful pop melodies, etc... Being an avid reader of online music reviews, I felt quite familiar with Big Star before ever listening to their music. Yet I was reminded when listening to the band in the car with my girlfriend that outside of us hardcore rock music buffs, very few people have heard of them. So while Big Star is no doubt overrated by some (isn't every band?), they still deserve to be heard by a wider audience, especially since despite their lack of commercial success, they were no doubt a commercially-oriented band, and thus really aren't that hard to get into compared to a lot of my other lesser-known favorites.

As for the music itself, it is filled with jangly guitars and big hooks, and is no doubt the forerunner for various indie-alternative-pop bands of the 80s and 90s. Lead singer/songwriter Alex Chilton was not just a great tunesmith, but sings with a strained vulnerability that adds an undercurrent of unrest to the songs even while the guitars chime brightly. As a result, the band excels at rocking out (the near 6-minute jam "O My Soul") yet the best song here, "September Gurls," and arguably the best of their career, is a sweet, unforgettable mid-tempo ballad. So if you haven't heard Big Star, get this album! I'm reviewing this one because I was already very familiar with their debut, #1 Record, which is even better, being more diverse and featuring more tear-jerking ballads. On CD, the two albums are commonly packaged together, which is so much the better, since they're basically the same album anyways.

The Beach Boys - "All Summer Long" (1964)

Rating: 8

In my efforts to undo my good work in consigning so many of my records to the blue bin, I keep buying more. Somehow I found myself returning from what was supposed to only be a trip to the bridal expo with seven records on Sunday afternoon. But how can I resist when I can buy classic Beach Boys records for $3?! 

At any rate, in 1964, the Beach Boys had not yet become the Beach Boys of Pet Sounds or Smile. Yet I still find it a damn shame that I grew up thinking of this band as lightweight, for even though the lyrical subject matter indeed fails to extend beyond the topics of cars and girls, Brian Wilson was first and foremost a musical genius. For one side of this record, it's practically perfect, as the gorgeous harmonies are all here as is Wilson's immeasurable gift of melody. The songs are simple on the surface, of course, yet songs like "I Get Around" sound better and better every time I hear them. More detrimental than the lyrical deficits is the fact that the second side consists mostly of boring instrumentals and re-writes of every song on the first side, which is somewhat hard to fathom since the album is only 25 minutes long. Still, All Summer Long is an obvious keeper, and a great record in its own right. But of course, they would only get better! 

Jeff Lorber - "Step by Step" (1984)

For whatever reason, I own three records by Jeff Lorber, pioneer in the 'contemporary' jazz scene of the 1980s. Although he has faded into obscurity today, I do find Lorber to be at least an interesting figure. To my surprise, Step by Step is no doubt a 'black' music record, with the song "Pacific Coast Highway" even winning a Grammy for best R&B instrumental. It's a mixture of mid-80s R&B and jazz, with lots of synthesizers and drum machines. I don't think that this particular mixture was ever a good idea, so it would probably take a lot for this record to escape the blue bin. And indeed it won't. 

There are a few interesting tracks here, although they are mostly when he goes completely instrumental. "On the Wild Side" is the only song where the synthesizers and drum machines are used in a unique way, generating intense rhythmic drive, and for that reason, it is the clear highlight. But even the better songs are marred by the robotic sound, and I don't find that these 'smooth' jazz instrumentals sit well with the more R&B-tinged vocal numbers, most of which are fairly generic and dated. There's even a song written by the infamous Diane Warren  and true to her oeuvre, it is trite and well, awful ("Every Woman Needs It"). Really, I don't even like "Pacific Coast Highway" that much, so this isn't that close to being a keeper for me. But it's an interesting blue bin record. If you have any interest in Lorber's brand of jazz, try the Jeff Lorber Fusion. I own Water Sign and that one I can actually recommend.

Elton John - "21 at 33" (1980)

I have a surprisingly large number of Elton John albums in my collection. Unfortunately, nearly all of them fall between the years 1978-1985, a treacherous period for most classic rock artists, and the beginning of the end for Elton in particular. There's no real science in what determines whether an album from this period is a keeper or not, so in the end, I have to go with my gut. In the case of 21 at 33, my gut says blue bin. 

It's definitely a major comeback from his legendarily awful disco experiment Victim of Love (which I also own and blue-binned long ago, but not before one listen to satisfy my morbid curiosity), as he (mostly) leaves the disco behind and returns to pop/rock balladeering. The first side, though it has some lingering disco beats, comes out generally okay, as "Chasing the Crown" and "Two Rooms at the End of the World" are much better efforts in the Victim of Love style, probably because they aren't actual disco songs, but disco-tinged rock songs. "Sartorial Eloquence" is a generic ballad, but catchy enough. The highlight of the first side, though (and the entire record) is single "Little Jeannie," which although it has a somewhat corny vibraphone arrangement, has more hooks than the rest of the album put together and the closest thing to prime Elton we have here.

Then we have the second side, which though it covers a decent stylistic range, fails to develop any personality and guarantees this record's entry in the blue bin. And really, apart from "Little Jeannie," the songs on the first side were only minor highlights at best. So I can't say I'm too broken up about giving away this one. But hey, it's a lot better than Victim of Love!

The Temptations - "House Party" (1975)

I have a theory that the Temptations and other prime Motown acts of the 1960s are the most immune to criticism of any popular music acts. Not only do pop critics shy away from discussing them in terms of their best and worst material, and how they rank historically, they're not even really part of the conversation. My suspicion is that it's because of how they were presented. No one thinks of the Temptations in terms of albums, but rather in terms of their hit singles, which, like the best of the Motown era, are all immaculate, if by necessity formulaic. It is taken for granted that these were not album-oriented artists (with the exception of artists like Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, who to release great albums, had to break free from the Motown yoke). As a result, bands like the Temptations are largely unassailable, even though their artistic achievements as a whole pale compared to the colorful discographies of a Gaye or a Wonder.

This is all my lead-in to defending my decision to consign a Temptations album to the blue bin. Fortunately, I don't have to defend this one too much because even band member Otis Williams referred to House Party as "a mismatched collection of, pardon my French, shit" (thanks Wikipedia!). The year was 1975, the Temptations' classic style of balladry was no longer in vogue, and the album was a collection of outtakes and leftovers to keep product moving. So perhaps it's not surprising that this particular record didn't turn out very well. Still, I did feel a rare twinge of guilt when I realized that I was not enjoying the music of the Temptations. 

There are a lot of problems here, but the main one is that the Temptations present themselves as a funk band, which just isn't their forte. Although the album starts off reasonably well, I found the instrumentation to be robotic on even the best songs, the production to be muddled, and the vocal performances generally weak and uninspired. There are some decent cuts to be found like "You Can't Stop a Man in Love" and the album closes relatively strongly with a return to their ballad style for the last two tracks. But even on these songs, pretty much the only ones with noticeable hooks and melodies, the performances fail to hold my interest. So although this record is professional enough to avoid being a total disaster, it's still a mediocre album.

John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band - "Original Soundtrack (Eddie and the Cruisers)" (1983)

As someone who prefers to listen to albums rather than individual songs, and someone who likes to delve deep into the unsavory depths of many a mediocre band's discography, I have something of an aversion to soundtrack albums. Even when they're good, I find myself wondering what the point really is. Fortunately, the soundtrack to the now-forgotten 1983 film Eddie and the Cruisers is essentially just an album, one recorded by John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band. So at least for my reviewing purposes, that makes it the good kind of soundtrack. Unfortunately, it's not that good of a record.

Perhaps not surprisingly for a film titled "Eddie and the Cruisers" and a record cover featuring a young tough with slicked-back hair, Cafferty and his band adopt a sound that is indeed an ode to late 50s rock. Especially in the early 80s, this could have turned out terribly, but they relatively do justice to the sound, and show at least some sense of innovation by attempting to unify 50s rock with Bruce Springsteen. That said, the band's Springsteenisms are so overt that you can barely tell the difference between tracks like "On the Dark Side" and "Tender Years" vs. "Thunder Road." This is impressive in a sense, but I think "Thunder Road" is kind of overrated anyways, so "Tender Years" doesn't exactly get me excited. Weirdly, the band actually fares better with slower 50s-style material like "These Oldies But Goodies (Remind Me of You)" but come off rather flaccid when they go up-tempo. Overall, this is not an uninteresting record, and there a couple songs that I like, but ultimately too much that I dislike. Blue bin!

Chicago - "17" (1984)

Chicago's 17th album is no doubt a bad one, but is at least not an uninteresting bad record. After all, Chicago was once a good band, and at a basic level, most of the songs are decently-written and have hooks. My personal highlight is second track "We Can Stop the Hurtin," which has great horn parts that hearken back to their jazz-rock past. Unfortunately, the mission of this album was to sell millions of records in 1984, and as such, has a glossed-over, synth-heavy sound that I find unbearable for more than five minutes at a time. The band has moments where they seem to be striving for something longer-lasting, but the sound is totally generic and undercuts their intentions. Songs that should have been good ("Stay the Night") fail to quite get going thanks to the slick and dated production, and the record is ultimately sunk by several identical power ballads that achieved Chicago renewed commercial success, but 27 years later, are just embarrassing. Actually, they were probably embarrassing in 1984, or at least they should have been. Blue bin.

Delbert McClinton - "The Jealous Road" (1981)

This record was chosen to play by my girlfriend, and we both had similar reactions. The first three songs are all covers in a roots-rock/blues vein, not necessarily bad, but conservative and lacking a distinguishing vocal personality. The fourth song and title track was probably the best song, but skipped on my record every five seconds or so, making it unlistenable by circumstance. Unfortunately for Mr. McClinton, when deciding what records I want to keep, a record that skips is a circumstance that detracts points indeed. I'm not sure if this record would have made it anyways, as again, although I wouldn't say the music was bad, it didn't stand out either. So as such, fairly or unfairly, to the blue bin this record goes.