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August 10, 2004
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Rhythm Corps, Common Ground: The title track of this album was, I think, a top-40 hit. Or maybe that’s just my perception, due to it being played regularly on WOFM 92.1 back in the day. Whatever the case, the song’s a classic, but I couldn’t tell you how any other song of theirs goes. Found this for a buck at a thrift store on Saturday, so it was a must-buy. They put out a second album, but it went nowhere, and, as far as I know, they never did anything else. I’d research it right now, but I’m writing this at work, and, well, I have no internet access. (I’m saving this file to disc and taking it home to post it, by which point I’ll have forgotten all about this part of it…but, lucky you, you still get to read it!) This sounds much more like the Alarm than I remembered.
Mason Ruffner, Gypsy Blood: This was another one of those $1.00 purchases at a thrift store, but the guy’s name sounds familiar and, again, I think he might’ve been played on WOFM. The disc is produced by Dave Edmunds, so it’s got decent street cred right off the bat, but there’s a song called “Under Your Spell” which gave me serious déjà vu, so I’m pretty sure I must’ve heard it before. Overall, I’m not really that impressed; it’s kinda blues-rock, occasionally a little bit Hendrix-y. Not bad, but nothing to write home about, at least from my perspective.
Then Jericho, First (The Sound Of Music): This is one of those bands that, again for a buck, I’m willing to take a chance on simply because I know I’ve read something about them somewhere. Turns out that the lead track, “Let Her Fall,” features a guest guitar solo from the King of All Cheekbones himself, Mr. Charlie Sexton…which is mildly odd, given that he’s Texan and they’re from the UK. Beats me how they hooked up, aside from being on the same label (MCA). Not bad for a buck, but underwhelming. Oddly enough, this also sounds a lot like the Alarm; it’s probably not a coincidence that this came out the same year as the Rhythm Corps album. Maybe both bands bought Strength and treated it like their musical bible.
The Venetians, Amazing World: Okay, I admit it, I bought it because I thought it might be worth something. For a buck, most anything is going to be profit…but it turns out that I can probably get close to $20 for it, so I’m pleased. I knew it was Australian from just looking at the credits; Mark Opitz worked with INXS, I think. Turns out that one of the guys from the band, Tim Powles, went on to join the Church. You’d never know from listening to this, though; this is total AOR, baby. Not worth keeping if I can get a few bucks from selling it.
Deacon Blue, When The World Knows Your Name: I first listened to this album when I was working at Record Bar, and, though no-one else gave a damn about it, I absolutely LOVED it. In fact, I think I have most everything the band’s put out now, excluding their debut, Raintown…which, ironically, is supposed to be their best album. I’ve also got two of frontman Ricky Ross’s solo albums as well. This is probably my favorite of their discs, though. “Wages Day” is what sold me on the disc, but “Real Gone Kid” and “Love and Regret” were apparently big singles in the UK; in fact, the band’s US label, Columbia, pushed “Real Gone Kid” here (I have a promo 45 for it, in fact), but it stiffed. Later, I came to realize that “The World Is Lit By Lightning” is arguably the best song on the disc, but that might just be me; most people are partial to “Love and Regret.” Still, this is a solid album that, frankly, the band never bettered. Other albums had moments that might’ve topped any single song here (I still love “Your Town”), but, as a whole, When The World Knows Your Name is the group’s time capsule inclusion.
The Deal, Goodbye September: God bless Bruce Brodeen, that’s all I have to say. With all due respect to Kool Kat and Jam, Not Lame Records is still the label to trust; I’ve never been disappointed with anything of theirs that I’ve picked up. I may not always love it to death, but I’ve never felt, “Well, there’s 12 bucks down the drain.” For my money, the most consistent of their imprints is Not Lame Archive, which presents generally-unknown artists from previous decades. They introduced me to Hawks, they showed me there was more to Blue Ash than just “Abracadabra,” and, hell, I’m even enjoying the Ready Teddy disc that just came out. The Deal came from Charlottesville, Virginia, and have a hard-luck story to rival any band’s, with labels going belly up, managers suffering the same fate, and no end of brass rings just out of the group’s reach. It’s a real shame, as all 13 tracks on this compilation of the band’s best material show a band that deserved to be able to keep creating new music.
Del Amitri, Change Everything: I’m probably more partial to the band’s previous album, with “Kiss This Thing Goodbye,” just because it was the first thing of theirs that I ever heard, but this is a very strong album in its own right. “Always The Last To Know” was the song that broke them in America, even if it would be “Roll To Me” that made the greatest lasting impression. I put “Sometimes I Just Have To Say Your Name” on a compilation tape for my wife, I believe. Or was it “Be My Downfall”? Justin Currie writes so many wonderful lyrics that I honestly can’t remember which of his songs have made the cut on past mixes…but there have been a few.
Denzil, Pub: There are few disappointments in my CD collection so great as the fact that Denzil never released another album beyond this one. It saw release on Giant Records back in ’94 and, honestly, I don’t know anyone who actually bought the disc at full price. For the longest time, everyone I knew who owned it was a record store employee who’d gotten a promo of the album at their store, or else they’d heard about it from a friend at a record store then found a used copy in a bargain bin. Which is a tremendous shame, of course, because, as a result, Denzil didn’t exactly rake in the profits, hence the disappearing act after Pub had come and gone. Useless was apparently promoted as a single somewhere in the US (I have a promotional copy of it, with an otherwise-unavailable B-side), but not in my neck of the woods. But it’s “Fat Loose Fancies Me,” the album’s lead track, that should’ve been pushed. It’s a short but sweet number, but the lyrics are brilliant (“In six weeks time, she says, naturally / “You’re not the man that you used to be” / And he says, “Darling, how could I be? / When you were born, I was 23”), so is the chorus, and, damn, it’s just a great pop song. Only possible stumbling block: a lyrical reference to Leslie Grantham, a name which rings not even the slightest bell with me, someone who prides himself on being a bit of an Anglophile.
The Devlins, Drift: I hope I don’t shock or disturb anyone with my next statement, but, to preface it, let me say that the adjective I’m getting ready to use is one which I do not throw around lightly; indeed, outside of a Prince B-side or quoting a line from a “Simpsons” Halloween episode, I don’t know of any occasion when I’ve ever uttered the word out loud. But let me go on the record as saying that the Devlins’ “Alone In The Dark” is the single most erotic song I’ve ever heard. Yes, even more so than “Love to Love You Baby” or that Serge Gainsbourg song where Jane Birkin is reportedly having an orgasm live in the studio. No, “Alone in the Dark” is the one song that comes to mind as a full-on song to have sex to. You can argue for “Let’s Get It On” or “Sexual Healing” all you want, and that’d be your right, but I stand firmly behind the Devlins. When I make my movie…and I will make a movie…there will be a love scene which will feature “Alone In The Dark” as its soundtrack. I’m going to put the entire lyrics to the song right here, and, though I realize the effect is somewhat lost without hearing the music, perhaps this will inspire you to seek out the song and hear it for yourself.
I feel the storm, but it’s so strange
To feel desire without the pain
And I feel your eyes search my soul
For something sacred
For something more than you need
Your words are lost, there’s no aim
It’s pure emotion that holds this flame
And the rain will fall and touch your heart
It’s pure devotion, alone in the dark
So tell me what you feel
Tell me every little thing
Tell me all that you are now
And tell me what it’s like to see from your own heart
Now I’ve got you
Alone in the dark
The shadows fall all around
There’s no-one to harm you here
Nowhere to be found
And it seems like we’ve been lost
In the world of our own thoughts
There’s no-one I’d rather be with now until the end
So tell me what you feel
Tell me every little thing
Tell me all that you are now
And tell me what it’s like to see from your own heart
Now I’ve got you
Alone in the dark
- written by Colin Devlin
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