Vintage Review: Intruder's Psycho Savant (1991)

Intelligence, talent, desire, insight and straight-up balls…Intruder is, without a doubt, the finest thrash outfit on the planet today, bar none. With the impending release of Psycho Savant, their third LP (with a fine EP also under their belts), the rest of the world will soon discover what Nashville area Intruder fans already know all too well: Intruder kicks ass!

Psycho Savant showcases the band at its fierce best, opening with a literal kick in the teeth called “Face of Hate,” an eye-opening look at the ignorance and hatred of past generations which still wreaks havoc in society today. The rest of the disc is equally powerful and poetic. Beneath the lightning-quick riffs which fall from Arthur Vinnett’s six string like so many drops of acid rain, Jimmy Hamilton’s growling vocals and the pounding rhythm section of guitarist Greg Messick, bassist Todd Nelson, and big-beat drummer extraordinaire John Pieroni, lies the heart of the band’s success: their impressive social awareness.

Though the music will appeal to any fan of loud and fast thrash metal, Intruder’s lyrical penchant for real-world concerns and their ability to relate their insights in words sets them above the current wave of thrashers. Songs like “Geri’s Lament (When),” “Traitor of the Living” (about the government’s Mount Weather facility), and “Final Word” will appeal to one’s intellect as well as your rock and roll soul. Muscular, aggressive and though-provoking…need I say more? (Metal Blade Records)

Review originally published The Metro, 1991

Vintage Review: Webb Wilder & the Beatnecks’ It Came From Nashville (1987/2004)

Brothers and sisters, I want to share the good word about Webb Wilder and the Beatnecks and their magnificent debut It Came From Nashville! This will make the third time since 1987 that the Reverend has reviewed this particular album. Not surprisingly, in a corporate music world dominated by airheaded, lip-syncing Barbie dolls and angry male fashion models with out-of-tune guitars, It Came From Nashville holds up remarkably well. In fact, much like fine wine, this version  – the album’s third incarnation (vinyl, CD w/bonus tracks, CD w/more bonus tracks) – has only gotten better with age.

Webb Wilder & the Beatnecks’ It Came From Nashville

For you poor souls who have never experienced the greatness of the man known to legions as “WW,” this is where it all began, a humble introduction to a Wilder world. Roaring into the Music City like a drunken tornado sometime during the mid-80s, WW quickly assembled a top-notch musical hit squad, a finely-tuned machine of rock ‘n’ roll salvation helmed by the man behind the throne, Bobby Fields. Although a vinyl recording is a poor substitute for the magnificence that is WW in person, It Came From Nashville did a pretty doggone good job of capturing the spirit – the zeitgeist, if you will – of the man from Mississippi. Wilder, Fields and crew masterfully mixed roots rock, country and blues with elements of psychdelica, swamp rock and surf music. Imagine Hank Williams, Robert Johnson, and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins sharing a beer at the crossroads in a midnight jam session and you’d come close to the sound of It Came From Nashville.

Friends, Webb Wilder and the Beatnecks hit Nashville like a double-shot of whiskey with a six-pack chaser. Along with Jason & the Nashville Scorchers, WW and his posse allowed a bunch of cornpone punk rockers to break loose and embrace the reckless country soul of their ancestors. After eighteen years, the songs on It Came From Nashville still rock like a house afire! From “How Long Can She Last,” Fields’ ode to youthful indescretion, to the original album-closing instrumental rave-up “Ruff Rider,” these songs are muscular, electric and 100% high-octane rock ‘n’ roll. An inspired cover of Steve Earle’s “Devil’s Right Hand” showcases both Wilder’s sense of humor and his deep, friendly baritone in this tragic tale. “One Taste of the Bait” speaks of the dangers of love while “Is This All There Is?” is a kiss-off to failed romance on par with Dylan's “Positively 4th Street.”

The original CD reissue bonus tracks are included here, a motley bunch of spirited covers that illustrate Wilder’s range and tastes. From a raucous rendition of Johnny Cash’s “Rock ‘n Roll Ruby” to a swinging reading of Steve Forbert’s “Samson and Delilah’s Beauty Shop,” these are all keepers. Fields’ instrumental “Cactus Planet” provides a rollicking good time while “Dance For Daddy” is a down-and-dirty, leering rocker with scrappy guitarwork. The six new live tracks included here were culled from a vintage 1986 Nashville performance at the world-famous Exit/In and include rarities like the rockabilly-flavored “Hole In My Pocket” and an early version of fan favorite “Rocket To Nowhere.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

If It Came From Nashville introduced the world to its rock ‘n’ roll savior, the album also marked Bobby Fields’ emergence as a songwriter of some skill and knowledge. These songs have held up so well over time because they are rooted in the deep tradition of rock, blues and country that was forged by pioneers like Elvis, Hank, and Chuck. Unfortunately, the world has turned so much that these men have mostly been lost in the haze of pre-fab pop stars and soft drink advertising.

Even a prophet like WW is without honor in his own country, although a loyal cult of followers continues to keep the flame burning. Rescued from the abyss of obscurity, It Came From Nashville is an important document of a time when giants roamed this planet and men were unashamed to follow the Webb Wilder Credo:

“Word hard…rock hard…eat hard…sleep hard…grow big…wear glasses if you need ‘em.” Amen… (Landslide Records, reissued 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™

Vintage Review: Tommy Womack's There I Said It! (2006)

In a city filled to the brim with musical talent, Tommy Womack often gets overlooked. I first met Womack two decades ago when he was the frontman for late ‘80s cult band Govt. Cheese, a unique hard-rocking outfit that came roaring out of Bowling Green, Kentucky like the ghost of Hank Williams riding astride a Nipponese superbike with flaming tailpipes! The band’s momentary flirtation with stardom inspired Womack’s tale of rock ‘n’ roll woe, The Cheese Chronicles, the best book about life on the road ever written (sorry Jack Kerouac!)

After the demise of Govt. Cheese, Womack immigrated to Nashville to pursue his musical career in earnest. Womack landed a gig as one-third of the Bis-Quits, a groovy little band that included the talented Will Kimbrough and future music retail exec Mike “Grimey” Grimes, the collaboration yielding one great roots-rock album on John Prine’s Oh Boy record label. Womack would then launch his solo career, almost a decade ago, with the brilliant debut album Positively Na Na in 1998.

The life of an indie rocker is a tough one, though, especially when, like Tommy Womack, your main attribute is that you don’t fit in. Womack has always been too country, too rock ‘n’ roll, too serious, not serious enough, too wordy, too stubborn, getting older…just not marketable by today’s “standards.” Never mind that he’s always made brilliant, entertaining music with highly personal lyrics that nevertheless appeal to many people that recognize the characters in the songs from the same streets we all walk together, if separately.

Tommy Womack’s There I Said It!

After 2002’s Circus Town, shortly after his fortieth birthday, Womack hit rock bottom. As he writes in the liner notes to There I Said It!, “one morning in March ’03, God came across my teeth with a skillet of White Light Truth. Whomp! I was toast at forty and destined to die poor.” Womack had a meltdown, of sorts, the sort of life-paralyzing crisis-of-confidence that drops the strongest of men to their knees and into spirals of mind-crippling depression. Months passed by and those close to Womack began to worry; more than one “friend-of-a-friend” got in contact and asked me to talk to Tommy. We swapped emails back and forth, even talked on the phone once or twice, but I doubt that my words of encouragement did little more than add to the chorus of friends and admirers urging Tommy to “feel better.”

Truth is, the personal hell that Womack was going through was something that few people will ever experience. He thought he saw his career circling the drain, his future uncertain, a divine voice saying, as he writes, “you had yer shot, thanks a lot,” leaving him older and broke with a family to support and the kind of dreams that tear one apart. Over the following three years, Womack recovered somewhat, got a crappy job like most of us, hating it like most of us and still, always, playing music. It was the music that, in the end, pulled him through, lending a voice to his fears and emboldening him to carry on.

The result of Womack’s trials and tribulations is There, I Said It!, his fourth studio and fifth album overall, a mind-staggeringly brilliant collection of songs that literally open a window to the artist’s soul. In many ways There, I Said It! reminds me of Joe Grushecky’s equally powerful 2004 album True Companion. At the same time that Womack was living through his crisis, Grushecky was looking into his own abyss. Over fifty, overshadowed by the accomplishments of his peers, Grushecky came to the conclusion that he may never make it big in rock ‘n’ roll but, “I still got a long way to go.”              

This is Tommy Womack’s story, however, and There, I Said It! is his masterpiece. The songs here recount the last several years of his life, biographical tales with great humor and insight and a little sadness. “A Songwriter’s Prayer” is a brilliant lead-off, a somber ode from a wordsmith to a higher power asking for just one good song, something to hang your hat on and build a career around. Delivered with pious vocals, mournful pedal steel and a haunting melody, the song is both tongue-in-cheek and deadly serious, with “we got to get out of this place” urgency.

I’m Never Gonna Be A Rock Star

Written about his son Nathan, “Nice Day” takes a look at life from the high side of 40, a winsome kind of tune that concludes, at the end of the day, that life is good when you have your family around you. The country-flavored “25 Years Ago” is a semi-biographical honky-tonk tale of the search for stardom by three hopefuls, spiced up with twangy steel and Womack’s upbeat vocals, the story of everybody that has ever come to Nashville (or LA or New York) chasing a dream.

“I’m Never Gonna Be A Rock Star,” from which There I Said It! takes its title, is a lilting, jazzy tune with Womack’s soulful, fluid vocals and muted yet lush instrumentation. The song’s reflective self-confession is both cathartic and one last shot at those who would try and bring the artist down. “My hair may go, but the dream remains,” the protagonist sings, getting older every day while his musician friends have forged moderate careers of one form or another, “buddies on tour buses, takin’ that ride, while I’m gettin’ older with an itch inside.” This reflective song parallels Joe Grushecky’s “Strange Days,” a realization that while every artistic effort through the years may not have been for naught, the lack of recognition – if not fame and fortune – is a bitter pill nonetheless.  

The bluesy “Too Much Month At the End Of The Xanax” is a bleak reflection on modern life, its otherworldly, electronically-altered vocals punching their way through a cloud of tortured electric guitars and discordant rhythms. It’s a style that Womack has always excelled at, self-referential talking blues paired with a hard rocking soundtrack that could just as easily been a Govt. Cheese song if it wasn’t so damn personal. By the time you reach “I Couldn’t Care Less,” a rollicking pop-rock rave-up inspired by the tired 9 to 5 that Womack endured during his “blue period,” things are starting to look up. Gigs are coming his way, and Womack delivers a lyrical coup de grace with more attitude and bile than any punk band I’ve been witness too, allaying his friend’s fears with “I feel alright, suicide is overrated, I’ve killed and lied, or at least I’ve mutilated.”

The centerpieces of There I Said It! are the epic stream-of-consciousness masterpiece “Alpha Male & the Canine Mystery Blood” and “A Cockroach After The Bomb.” Both songs evince the sense of humor that has always driven Womack’s best material, but they are also both songs that pack up the past in a box and put it on the shelf, saying goodbye to a time that none of us will ever again enjoy, much less revisit except in memory. “Alpha Male” is a wonderful recollection of a misspent youth and encroaching middle age that many of us can relate to (especially those of us whose age and experience parallels Womack’s). He sees a band poster while walking to work, bringing back memories of the day 20+ years ago when all of us would run out to see a show by any band that sounded even half-intriguing, a poster on a telephone pole an invite to a night of beer, women, and rock ‘n’ roll. Tying the past to the present and facing his own growing obsolescence, Womack admits that “can’t be a has-been when you never was.”    

A Cockroach After the Bomb

“A Cockroach After the Bomb,” a semi-shuffle with lively vocals and spry piano work courtesy of producer John Deaderick, is the yin to the yang of “Alpha Male.” The song begins by expressing an angst that no 20-something-year-old young pup could ever understand, confessing, “I get up every morning and I go to a job where I’ve thrown up on the john. I worry about who’s mad at me and spend a lot of time wishing I was gone.” He remembers his previous life, in a gang with a band, “I used to be somebody, I was a star, it takes a lot of guts to fall this far,” concluding that “I’m a cockroach after the bomb, carrying on…”

It’s with this refrain, however, that Womack touches the album’s truth, that in spite of the darkness, those that feel the muse are compelled to follow, to “carry on” no matter the price, and as Steve Forbert once sang, “you can not win if you do not play the game.” The singer asks, “what if Jimi’s lighter hadn’t lighted, what if Monet was just near-sighted, I’ll go to my grave knowing I took me a chance, I’m a cockroach after the bomb carryin’ on.” The song is a call to arms for all of us last-crop-baby-boomers stuck in a cubicle or middle management with a mortgage and obligations who still harbor delusions of creativity that our parents warned us against pursuing. It’s fitting that the album’s next-to-last song is “Everything’s Coming Up Roses Again;” Womack writing in the liner notes that “this record started with a prayer and ends with its answer.”

The song’s waltz-like demeanor and wistful vocals belie its message – that as long as you’re breathing, you can still follow your dreams. “I may be a 44-year-old office boy,” writes Womack, “but I’m the office boy that did Leno!” You’re never too old to sing that song, write that story, paint that picture, and thus sayeth Springsteen, “throw away the dreams that break your heart.” You’ve got one life to live, and as There Is Said It! slides to a close with the wiry, guitar-driven instrumental “Nice Day (reprise),” you get the sense that Womack, like Grushecky at the end of True Companion, has found some degree of peace in family, friends and, of course, his music.     

In a city filled to the brim with musical talent, Tommy Womack has often been overlooked. Age and experience has broadened his lyrical palette, however, the songs on There, I Said It! among the best he’s ever written. A skilled songwriter and charismatic performer, Womack peppers his songs with musical scraps of roots-rock, Americana, blues, and hard-rock. Ironically, initial acclaim for this album, and the positive response afforded it by nearly everybody that has heard it, could end up reviving a career that Womack thought was on life support. By any measure, There, I Said It! is the work of an artist yet to hit his peak, an emotionally moving song-cycle that defies the industry gatekeepers and rocks with élan, guts, and intelligence. (Cedar Creek Music, released 2006)

Review originally published by the Trademark of Quality (TMQ) blog…

Vintage Review: Stealin Horse’s Stealin Horses (1988)

Dear Mom & Dad:

I know that it was a great shock to come home and find out that I’d packed up and left. I’ve gone in search of Stealin Horses, the hottest rock & roll outfit to ever hail from Lexington, Kentucky. Ya’see, ever since I heard Stealin Horses’ self-titled Arista Records debut, I’ve been deeply and hopelessly in love. Stealin Horses, as you should know, are basically Kiya Heartwood and Kopana Terry, two gorgeous and veeerrryyy talented women who write such bittersweet songs of love and betrayal, fear and endless dreams that from the opening chords of “Turnaround,” the album’s first single, through the power-pop melody of “Gotta Get A Letter” to the anthemic “Ballad of the Pralltown Café,” I knew that these were the girls for me!

So I’m going to roam the dusty, hot blacktop of America ‘til I find them. I know that they’ve got to be playing somewhere, touring this great land, bringing their energetic, hard-driving brand of rock & roll; well-written, Dylanesque lyrics and beautiful, near-flawless harmonies to the hundreds of small towns that dot the landscape. I’m sure that they wouldn’t mind having a world-renown rock critic such as myself documenting their career (after all, look what Dave Marsh did for Bruce Springteen). I’m going to give my heart to Stealin Horses.

It’s time for my bootheels to be wandering…

Your son, Keith


Dear Son:

Good riddance! After thirty years, we thought you’d never leave!

Mom & Dad


Review originally published by Metro Magazine, 1988

Vintage Review: Passafist's Passafist (1994)

Whether or not Passafist and their self-titled, seven-song EP end up becoming a full-time project or remain a mere footnote in the impressive musical careers of Dave Perkins and Lynn Nichols, it’s a milestone in the history of the local scene. Perkins and Nichols are best-known for their work with one of the best bands to spring out of our scene, Chagall Guevara. For this effort, the pair – dubbing themselves the “Caruso” twins, in the best glimmering tradition – have rounded up a handful of the city’s best nontraditional talent and put together a hard rocking disc that sounds like a bludgeon, yet cuts like a knife.

Dessau frontman John Elliott lends his distinctive and effective growling vocals to the disc, while Michael Saleem and Mustafa contribute their underrated talents as well. It’s the Caruso twins, however – Waco and Reno – who steal the show, whether it’s kicking out the jams with an inspired cover of the Stones’ “Street Fighting Man,” pounding out the wickedly pointed industrial drone of “Glock,” or closing with the socio-political implications of “The Dr. Is In,” with its Dr. Strangelove samples and jazzy, hypnotizing rhythms. It’s an effort that would do any regional music scene proud and it deserves a wider audience. (R.E.X. Music, released 1994)

Review originally published by R.A.D! music zine

Vintage Review: Walk The West’s Walk The West (1986)

There’s a new breed of cowboy roamin’ the range these days, pahdner…fierce young men with one foot in the saddle and one foot on the hot asphalt of the city street…six-string guitarslingers, uniquely American artists mixing C&W influences with an undying allegiance towards Rock ‘n’ Roll with a capitol ‘R’, bands spurred on by the success enjoyed by their musical antecedents (such as the ever-amazing Jason & the Scorchers, the still-vital granpappies of the “cow-punk” legacy), bands such as Nashville’s Walk The West.

Walk The West’s debut LP is a dark, smoky slab o’ petroleum by-product, a record that reinforces as well as illustrates the basis for their incredible local popularity. Rich in texture and heavily-laden with the wailing riffs of lead guitarist Will Goleman and vocalist Paul Kirby. Walk The West experiments with a variety and diversity in styles, ranging from the Pettyesque “Backside” to the country-tinged, rollicking “Sheriff of Love,” to the urban-rocking “Living At Night.”

Kirby’s vocals are strong and clear, if appropriately nasal, and the production is almost invisible, never interfering with the music. The result is an enjoyable and solid debut that combines some of the best elements of thirty years of rock music and country influence into one nice, neat, and potent little package. The intensity contained within their music and their sense of roots proves that rock ‘n’ roll lives outside London or Los Angeles. (Capitol Records, released 1986)

Review originally published by The Metro magazine

Vintage Review: Dave Perkins’ Pistol City Holiness (2009)

Singer, songwriter, and guitarist Dave Perkins is, perhaps, best known as one of the creative forces behind the early ‘90s rock band Chagall Guevara. Some may remember him as one of the architects responsible for mid-’90s industrial/alt-rock terrorists Passafist, whereas others may know him as the producer behind such successful CCR bands as the Newsboys. Whether he’s playing guitar behind Jerry Jeff Walker or singing with Amy Grant, Perkins’ talent has always risen to the top.

One of Perkins’ greatest loves has always been the blues, however, and with the release of Pistol City Holiness the artist rediscovers the vibrancy, electricity, and excitement that got him into music in the first place. Influenced and inspired by blues greats like Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, and blues-rockers like Cream and Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, Perkins has delivered in Pistol City Holiness a stunning collection of ambitious blues-rock tunes that was almost a decade in the making.  

Dave Perkins’ Pistol City Holiness

Pistol City Holiness opens with a squawk and a holler, the muddy Delta grit oozing from Dave Perkins’ serpentine fretwork, his vocals gruff and supple and soulful all at once. Although the song has inherited the spirit of a hundred juke-joint jams, its underlying funky swagger, metal-edged guitar, and contemporary poor man’s lyrics clearly stamp it as a fine example of 21st century electric blues, the song swinging wilder and harder than a blacksmith’s hammer.

The album’s lone cover, Don Nix’s classic Memphis blues standard “Goin’ Down,” is provided a tune-up under the hood and a fresh coat of paint up top. With roaring, whiskey-soaked vocals driven by Perkins’ brutal six-string assault, T.J. Klay’s rampaging harpwork, and a fine bit of nearly-hidden piano-pounding courtesy of former Double Trouble keyboardist Reece Wynans, Perkins and his manic mechanics hot rod “Goin’ Down” from its turbocharged, flat-track origins into some sort of interstellar, space-ace speed machine.

Hard Luck Men & Long Suffering Woman

Perkins gets down-and-dirty with the powerful “Long Eleven Road,” the song itself a showcase for Klay’s tortured harpwork. With a wiry guitar riff that chases its tale in circles, Perkins’ best black cat moan vocals, and Klay’s timely blasts of soul, the song is a hard luck tale of a factory ghost town where little is left but sin and degradation. With a true Delta vibe that reminds of Son House’s most apocalyptic visions, “Long Eleven Road” is a potent modern American fable of hopelessness and misfortune.

If “Long Eleven Road” is the story of hard luck men and long-suffering women facing another brutal workweek, “Bottles and Knives” is a rollicking and curious mix of Chicago and New Orleans blues music that signals the arrival of the weekend. With the entire band playing helter-skelter, Wynan’s flailing ivories are matched by Perkins’ joyful, ramshackle guitar solos.

Perkins’ humorous lyrics are pure genius – “bottles and knives flyin’ all around this place, we’re gonna leave here darlin’ before I lose my pretty face” – the song’s protagonist claims that his girl ain’t happy goin’ out on Saturday night unless he gets into a fight. It’s 1930s blues jukin’ reality set to music, delivered with reckless abandon (and highly-amped instruments).

The Devil’s Game

Blues guitarist Jimmy Nalls sits in for “Devil’s Game,” the former Sea Level fretburner adding some tasty acoustic notes behind Perkins’ greasy slide guitar runs. The song’s languid pace is deceptively framed by an underlying rhythm that moves at the speed of kudzu growing, blasts of ice-cold sax complimenting the red-hot notes of Klay’s harmonica and Perkins’ flame-thrower guitar. Lyrically, the song is a Southern Gothic dirge of sore temptation and the wages of sin, punishment meted out in an aching limbo that again evokes the blessed ghost of the mighty Son House.

Perkins’ “Preacher Blues” is a blistering, raw blues-rock rave-up with noisy, buzzing rhythms, blustery vocals, and whipsmart lyrics that reference Robert Johnson and his fabled hellhounds. The song is probably also the best showcase on Pistol City Holiness for Perkins’ phenomenal six-string skills, the two-and-a-half-minute rocker virtually humming and crackling with the electricity generated by the guitarist’s rattling leads.

The album closes with the explosive “Mercy in the Morning,” a full-tilt, anarchic, stomp-and-stammer that throws dynamite in the water in the form of scorching guitarwork, darts of gospel-tinged and honky-tonk piano, powerful drumbeats, and shots of machine-gun harp notes that dive-bomb your ears like a horde of angry hornets.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Those of us that have followed Dave Perkins’ lengthy career as sideman, band member, producer, and solo artist have never been surprised by the artist’s immense talent, deep musical knowledge, and ability to perform well in nearly any musical genre. Nothing could prepare the listener for the nuclear-strength fall-out of Pistol City Holiness that cascades from your speakers. Perkins has created a masterpiece that fuses Mississippi Delta and Chicago blues tradition with a hard-rocking, guitar-driven blues-rock sound that fans haven’t heard since Stevie Ray Vaughan burst onto the scene. Although it’s hard to find, go out and beg, borrow, or steal a copy of Pistol City Holiness… (self-produced, released June 2, 2009)

Vintage Review: Lonesome Bob's Things Fall Apart (1998)

Now this, this Things Fall Apart album from this guy Lonesome Bob, this is the way that country music was meant to be. No big-hat, tight jeans posing for photo opportunities, or ‘Music Row’ pop crap, this is Nashville’s greatest fear: a talented and creative singer and songwriter that doesn’t fit into any of their corporate molds. Boasting one of the best baritones this side of Waylon Jennings, Lonesome Bob carries on a musical tradition that has its roots in Hank Williams and Bill Monroe and runs pure through Johnny Cash, George Jones, and Willie Nelson to the songs on Things Fall Apart.

Love and betrayal, death and despair, these are some of the subjects of Bob’s songs, delivered in a rocking honky-tonk style that sometimes gets a little loud and raucous while, at other times, is eloquently genteel. Guest vocalist Allison Moorer contributes her beautiful vocals to several duets on Things Fall Apart. Sounding a lot like a young Emmylou Harris, Moorer’s voice provides an angelic charm that counters Bob’s twangy growl. A satisfying collection of tunes that will continue to grow on you with every listen, Things Fall Apart is the kind of country album Nashville forgot how to make.

Released by Checkered Past Records, a Chicago indie that, with a roster that includes Lonesome Bob, Tommy Womack, and Paul Burch, seems to have their finger on the musical pulse of Nashville better than the dozens of labels that are located here in the “Music City.” (Checkered Past Records)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™, 1998

Vintage Review: Java Christ's Songs To Confuse Slam Dancers (1996)

Back a few years ago, I had a gig as the night manager of a local newsstand / convenience store in the university area of Nashville. As one of the few places in town that sold the notorious Jolt Cola, we had a regular weekend crowd of young punks, cybergeeks and metalheads who would buy this high-octane gutrot by the caseload. I got to know several of these customers on a casual basis, often talking music/computers/politics with them. I was old enough to be their father, but I listened to them, supported their dreams and accepted them for what they were, which was a diverse, creative lot with a lot ahead of them.

What a couple of these young Jolt guzzlers had in front of them was Java Christ, the finest young band to emerge from the Nashville scene since the Teen Idols first took the stage (which, although not really that long a period of time, says something nonetheless considering the large number of truly mediocre bands that come and go in the Music City in a year’s time). Thanks to the fine folks at House O’ Pain, Java Christ make their vinyl debut with the 7” Songs To Confuse Slam Dancers EP, an altogether red-hot slab o’ punk rock fun that comes with an iron-clad Reverend K guarantee: if you buy this disc from House O’ Pain and don’t like it, send it (in good condition, naturally) to R.A.D! and we’ll give you yer cash back on it. Yes, it’s that good.
   
Side one of the EP kicks off with “Gasoline,” an infectious ska-tinged rocker. Layers of fuzzy guitar punctuate the tune’s rock-steady rhythm, with the entire effort burning as bright as its name and subject matter. “Suburbia” opens with gonzo rock chords, flashing quickly into a fast-paced, mile-a-minute musical romp. The second side’s “Insomnia” is anything but a snooze, hard and fast chords underlining a classic tale of love lost (and delivering a the most effective lyrical “piss-off” since Dylan’s “Positively 4th Street”). The disc closes with “Clue,” another delightful ska-fest, chockful of energy and attitude.

After seeing Java Christ play live at this year’s House O’ Pain/Lucy’s Record Shop Anti-Extravaganza show, I can say that they’ve got a bright future ahead of them. They’re charismatic and likeable, with a solid punk ethic that just can’t be beat. Songs To Confuse Slam Dancers is an entertaining and impressive recording debut that manages to capture enough of the band’s live energy to scorch your turntable. (House O’ Pain Records)

Review originally published by R.A.D! music zine, 1996

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Thunder and Fire (1989)

Jason & the Scorchers are, arguably, the best-known of Nashville’s brash young bands, an outfit with a critically-acclaimed past and an infinitely-open future. Thunder and Fire is their first album for A & M Records, and their first effort with the new band. Folks, they’ve never been better.

This is a mature and fully-realized work: Jason’s songwriting collaborations breathe new life into the Scorchers’ material; Warner’s guitar playing gets better and better; and the additions of bassist Ken Fox and skilled multi-instrumentalist Andy York round out the sound of the band, allowing them more diversity and providing a fuller, bigger feel to the songs. Drummer and co-writer Perry Baggz is like “Old Faithful,” an often (unfortunately) overlooked and underrated percussionist who manages to balance the entire chaotic crew.

The result is an album, Thunder and Fire, that is certain to become the band’s biggest. Artistically impressive, musically powerful, lyrically fresh and exciting, the Scorchers made the album that they wanted to, and it shows. The boys may have gotten older, but they’ve not gotten softer…if anything, they’ve become more passionate, more committed with age. (A&M Records)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1989

Vintage Review: Dave Mallett's This Town (1993)

I’ve long contended that the best talent floating around the “Music City” wasn’t necessarily in the country arena. Aside from the many talented rockers plying their trade in pursuit of the brass ring, there are a slew of performers who can’t be labeled with any sort of adjective albatross. Steve Earle, Nancy Griffith, John Hiatt, and Mary Chapin-Carpenter, to name a few, have all found varying degrees of success in Nashville, country or no. Now the city needs to make room for Dave Mallett.

Mallett is an old-fashioned tunesmith, with equal parts folk, country and rock entering into his songwriting equation. He is an extremely gifted lyricist, spinning beautiful story-songs out of the threads of memory, romance and tradition. His deep, fluid vocals are perfectly suited to the material he creates. Songs like “Main Street,” which commemorates that vanishing American phenomena; “Take Time,” in which a father passes a generation of wisdom onto his son; and “Change of the Seasons,” a tale of the inevitable passing of the years (and, with them, friends dear) showcase the storytelling skills which Mallett brings to his craft.

This Town is a thoroughly enjoyable album, made all the more so by Mallett’s ability, in song, to evoke memories and emotions. We could use a few more writers of Mallett’s abilities here in the “Music City;” in the meantime, we’ll enjoy those we do have...here in This Town. (Vanguard Records)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1993

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Wildfires + Misfires (2002)

Cowpunk pioneers Jason & the Scorchers enjoy a lofty standing within the indie rock ranks. They’ve received a minor degree of fame, with a series of critically-acclaimed albums and hundreds of dynamic live shows beneath their belts. They made the jump from their own indie label to a major label back when a band’s credibility wasn’t instantly in question, later going bankrupt due to excessive label expenses.

After a brief early ‘90s hiatus, the Scorchers returned to the indie world with a handful of brilliant, if underrated albums for Mammoth Records. Now they’ve come full-circle, releasing music on their own Courageous Chicken imprint through North Carolina indie Yep Roc Records. For these Nashville rock icons, it’s been a long strange trip, indeed.

This trip is partially documented by the recently released Wildfires + Misfires. The disc is a collection of Scorchers’ obscurities, demos and alternative versions that provides listeners with greater insight into the band’s creative process. It documents the Scorchers’ evolution from brash young punks into one of rock’s most talented, if overlooked bands. The set kicks off with the demo version of “Absolutely Sweet Marie” that won the band a major label contract and also includes red-hot unreleased live tracks like “Tear It Up” with legendary guitarist Link Wray and crowd favorite “Lost Highway.”

Rarities like “Too Much Too Young” and “Break Open the Sky” present the band in a different light while alternative takes of familiar songs like “If Money Talks” showcase the Scorchers’ range and abilities. Rather than a prurient look at a band’s past, Wildfires + Misfires is a vital collection of material that rewards loyal fans for their incredible dedication while presenting a living document of a work still in progress. (Courageous Chicken/Yep Roc Records)

Review originally published by the View From The Hill Community newspaper, Signal Hill CA

Vintage Review: IGMO's Ten Day Potato (1998)

After a long dry spell during which just about any group that knew three chords and could put up an “alternative” image was awarded a major label deal, we’ve finally spun things around where there are some bands out there who don’t sound like Nirvana or Smashing Pumpkins. Nashville’s IGMO is one of these welcome departures from the mainstream fare, a talented conglomeration of some of the Southeast’s finest musicians brought together under one roof to make some honest rock ‘n’ roll music.

Vocalist Mark Pfaff, a member of the legendary Will & the Bushmen, is the ringleader on Ten Day Potato, fronting a superb collection of pop, rock, country and psychedelic music that borrows shamelessly from every decade from the dawn of time until today. IGMO present a new twist on the musical lessons they’ve learned so well, however, Ten Day Potato proving to be as refreshingly familiar as it is oddly original. In an era where many of today’s “superbands” have to be taught how to play their instruments, IGMO is creating music that is as intelligent as it is invigorating. (self-released)

Review originally published by R Squared music zine, 1998

Vintage Review: Every Mother's Nightmare (1990)

A hard-rocking disc teetering shamelessly on the sonic barrier, Every Mother’s Nightmare’s vinyl debut puts the teeth back into metal-edged musical mayhem. A cross between nostalgic ‘70s glam-metal and ‘90s thrash sensibilities, Every Mother’s Nightmare, the album, kicks out the proverbial jams with its inspired hybrid of musical influences which includes, though is not limited by, Kiss, the Babys, AC/DC, Slade, and any one of a number of true rockers who have dotted the FM radio landscape during the past two decades.

Every Mother’s Nightmare represents the combined creative efforts of a foursome of well-known Music City rockers: ex-Hard Knox vocalist Rick Ruhl, guitarist Steve Malone, bassist Mark McMurtry from Suicide Alley, and drummer Jim Phipps, formerly of Justin Heat. Ruhl and Phipps formed Every Mother’s Nightmare a couple of years back, after the break-up of their respective bands. Moving to Memphis and hooking up with producer Eli Ball (the same guy who discovered Jason & the Scorchers), EMN were signed to Arista by the big cheese himself, Clive the D. The rest, as they say, is history.

Every Mother’s Nightmare is receiving a lot of industry hype, and rightfully so. From the ringing chords of their lead-off single “Walls Come Down,” to their bigger-than-life cover of Charlie Daniels’ “Long Haired Country Boy,” to the call-and-response power funk of “Listen Up,” it is evident that this is a disc of considerable energy and emotion. Toss in their photogenic rock ‘n’ roll image (just ask Joan Rivers), a couple of MTV videos and the band’s own considerable talents and hard work (they’ve been on tour forever) and you have an equation which equals success: a valuable commodity in a hard rock field over-peopled with shallow images lacking in ability. (Arista Records)

Review published by The Metro, 1990  

Every Mother's Nightmare

Vintage Review: The Evinrudes (1998)

Nashville’s Evinrudes got signed on the strength of the radio-friendly “Drive Me Home,” a regional hit a couple of summers ago from the band’s self-produced EP. Sparking major label interest after constant airplay throughout the Southeast, “Drive Me Home” is a witty, hook-laden song that’s full of clever wordplay, propelled by Sherry Cothran’s sexy, breathless vocals and guitarist Brian Reed’s great guitar line.

“Drive Me Home” got the Evinrudes signed, but, as shown by their big-league debut disc, the band is no one trick pony. Sure, “Drive Me Home” opens the band’s self-titled intro, but there’s lots of other material here to recommend that the band be given a spot in your personal music rotation. “Jimmy’s On Crack (And I Don’t Care)” is a rocking little slice of life, with more than a few precious observations on society’s ills; “Otis” name-checks the great Otis Redding but is really a brief glimpse at the mortality that haunts us all.

Opening with a nifty bit of rhythmic voiceplay by Cothran, “Dick and Jane” is a nonsensical and whimsical sixties-styled pop song that says little but is a lot of fun to listen to. “High Street and the Universe” is another observation of our culture while “Swagger” is a delicious piece of braggadocio, the song’s protagonist the baddest mofo on the block since Jim Croce’s “Leroy Brown.”

Guitarist Reed writes a fair tune, a little light on the instrumental side but penning lyrics chockful of humor, irony and wit and enough pop-culture references to jump-start a Trivial Pursuit tournament. Cothran’s aforementioned vocals have one setting – sultry – which is entirely appropriate for the material. Overall, The Evinrudes is a solid effort, with more character and personality than most you’ll hear these days. Give ‘em a little seasoning, a veteran producer to bring out the dynamics promised by Cothran’s voice and another batch of Reed’s clever songs and you’d have a real Top Forty contender. (Mercury Records)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™, 1998

 

Vintage Review: BR5-49's Live From Roberts (1996)

Nashville’s favorite honky tonk heroes shine with a solid debut bow. This six song EP – recorded live at the soon-to-be world famous Robert’s Western World – reveals only part of the reason why the “band from lower Broadway” have captured the hearts and minds of their loyal fans. BR5-40 play good ol’ fashioned, shit-kickin’ Country and Western, deftly mixing elements of traditional country, western swing and just enough rock ‘n’ roll spirit to keep it interesting. Rough-edged, sincere and well-versed in their art, BR5-49 deliver electrically-charged songs with a contemporary feel, numbers like “Bettie Bettie,” a heartfelt ode to pin-up queen Betty Page, or the hilarious, scandalous “Me ‘N’ Opie (Down By the Duck Pond).” A welcome alternative to the cookie-cutter, assembly-line process that “modern” country music has become, I thoroughly expect BR5-49 to become the next big thing to break out of the Music City... (Arista Records)

Review originally published by R Squared music zine, 1996

BR5-49

 

Bootleg Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Absolutely Mannheim (2000)

JASON & THE SCORCHERS
Absolutely Mannheim
(Massive Attack CD-R #990167, 67:56 min)

SOURCE: Tracks 1 – 16, Mannheim Germany, June 10, 1985. Tracks 17-19, Farm Aid II, Austin TX 1986.

SOUND QUALITY: German set is fair audience (5) with significant drop-outs, clicks, fade-aways and enough hollowness and echo to make one wonder what sort of cave they recorded the songs in. Nevertheless, Jason’s vocals are reasonably clear and Warner’s guitar is up front in the mix. Farm Aid tracks are fair audience (5) with tinny sound, abrasive top end and a bit of distortion.

COVER: Typical Massive Attack packaging, with a B & W shot of Jason Ringenberg on the front and a pretty cool “American Gothic” styled B & W shot of the entire band on the back along with tracklist and venue info.

TRACKLIST: Lost Highway/ Last Time Around/ Are You Ready For The Country?/ Can’t Help Myself/ If You’ve Got The Love (I’ve Got The Time)/ Shop It Around/ Broken Whiskey Glass/ Help! There’s A Fire - Hot Nights In Georgia/ Pray For Me Mama (I’m A Gypsy Now)(incorrectly listed as “Still Tied”)/ Travelin’ Band/ Change The Tune/ You Win Again (incorrectly listed as “This Heart Of Mine”)/ Harvest Moon/ Absolutely Sweet Marie - If Money Talks/ Amazing Grace/ Shotgun Blues (incorrectly listed as “Far Behind”)/ Are You Ready For The Country?/ Broken Whiskey Glass (incorrectly listed as “Harvest Moon”)/ White Lies       

COMMENTS: From the dank ambience of Cantrell’s and the beer-soaked stage at Phranc-n-Stein’s, Jason & the Scorchers broke out of the primal early ‘80s Nashville club scene to hit the world stage, their 1985 tour of Europe earning them a considerable fan base in England, Germany and points north. Although the band worked consistently throughout the ‘80s – in fact, demand for their live shows kept the wolves from the door when EMI bankrupted them – they never quite crossed over to the mainstream. A couple of spins of Absolutely Mannheim show why the Scorchers earned such a rabid cult following, however. Their audience is so loyal that a couple of years ago, the live recording sessions in Nashville for Midnight Roads and Stages Seen drew Scorchers fans from across the U.S., South America. and northern Europe to take part in the fun.
 
Although the sound on Absolutely Mannheim, quite frankly, sucks, the performance is typical high-energy, high-octane Jason & the Scorchers. Touring Europe for the first time, supporting their first full-length album Lost & Found, the setlist here is almost identical to that on the rare Rock On Germany LP, an album that writer Clint Heylin considers one of the best bootlegs ever made. I’ve got a tape of that album, smuggled out of Germany by band members, and I believe that Absolutely Mannheim is even better. The performances are both exciting, but by the time of the Mannheim show, the Scorchers had been in Europe for three weeks and the live sets had really jelled. The set is pretty much normal for 1985-vintage Scorchers, the band performing most of the Lost & Found album mixed with cuts from the band’s critically-acclaimed Fervor EP and a couple tunes from their original Praxis label 7” EP, Reckless Country Soul.

With fifteen years of retrospection, original Scorchers songs like “Shop It Around,” “If Money Talks,” “Last Time Around,” and “Broken Whiskey Glass” are comfortable favorites; at the time they were precious cowpunk rave-ups that fused traditional country with punk energy and attitude, providing Nashville rockers with something to believe in. Inspired covers performed here include Hank Williams’ “Lost Highway” (which opened most every Scorchers set) and “You Win Again” (which would eventually be dropped from the set), Neil Young’s “Are You Ready For The Country?” and Dylan’s “Absolutely Sweet Marie.” A Scorchers signature tune, the video for “Absolutely Sweet Marie” would introduce the band to early-eighties MTV audiences.

An early version of “Shotgun Blues” from the Scorchers second album (incorrectly listed here as “Far Behind’) shows the band still fine-tuning the song while the rendition of CCR’s “Travelin’ Band,” sung by Scorchers guitarist Warner Hodges proves that Hodges should stick to his six-string wizardry. The Mannheim set presented here is probably a couple of songs shy of complete – missing is “White Lies,” the first single from Lost & Found and a staple of the band’s performances at the time. In a summer of high points, however, the Mannheim show stands as one of the highest, the 1985 European tour peaking with an appearance in front of 40,000 people at the Roskilde Festival in Denmark where Link Wray joined the band onstage.

Whoever put this disc together made a few glaring errors in terms of song titles. Who could ever confuse “Broken Whiskey Glass,” one of the band’s first songs and a signature tune, with “Harvest Moon,” a ballad from the Fervor EP (as they did here on the Farm Aid tracks)? Other songs are also misidentified, either by title or by confusing them with other Scorchers’ songs. There are also a couple of indexing errors where the band jumps from one song right into another, as with “Absolutely Sweet Marie” and “If Money Talks” with the producer/manufacturer missing it entirely. These ridiculous mistakes and generally aggravating sound quality aside, it’s nice to finally see a Scorchers show on disc. Absolutely Mannheim is an important document of one of rock’s most underrated bands. With the wealth of live Scorchers’ material circulating on tape, some of it of pretty decent quality, maybe we’ll see more of Jason & the Scorchers on CD in the future.

Review originally published by Live! Music Review zine, 2000

Bootleg Review: John Hiatt's Hiattology (1999)

John Hiatt
Hiattology
(Tendolar #TDR-116, 71:42)

SOURCE: Tracks 1 – 10, unnamed venue, Ottawa Canada, January 4, 1989; tracks 11 – 14, unnamed venue, Hamburg Germany Listed as December 1989 but probably from

SOUND QUALITY: Tracks 1 – 10, very good soundboard (8-9) offering crisp vocals and instrumentation with volume dropping a bit across tracks nine and ten. Tracks 11 – 12 are very good audience (7-8) with a slight bit of hollowness, overly bright vocals and editing dropouts between songs.

COVER: Front offers single-sided color portrait of Hiatt copped from an old album cover while the back offers another nicked photo and track information. Silver disc just shows the Tendolar name and the Hiattology title. Amusingly enough, the title is spelled correctly on the disc but misspelled on the front cover.

TRACKLIST: Memphis In The Meantime/ Drive South/ Thank You Girl/ Tip Of My Tongue/ Tennessee Plates/ Alone In The Dark/ Ride Along/ Is Anybody There?/ Paper Thin/ Thing Called Love/ I Don’t Even Try/ Love That Harms/ Love Like Blood/ Falling Up

COMMENTS: John Hiatt definitely falls into the category of “one of the best artists that you’ve never heard.” The consummate songwriter and a perennial critic’s favorite, Hiatt’s checkered career has seen him jump from label to label in search of some degree of security and commercial success. Along the way, he’s made over a dozen albums for almost half a dozen labels, created some great music, some music that was good but not great, and excelled musically in genres ranging from folk-oriented singer/songwriter material to angry “new wave” rave-ups to soulful, blues-infused rock.

Even if you’re unfamiliar with Hiatt as an artist, chances are that you’ve heard some of his work nonetheless – performers as stylistically diverse as Bob Dylan, Bonnie Raitt, the Neville Brothers, Iggy Pop, and a slew of country types have recorded Hiatt songs, some with great chart success. Nevertheless, Hiatt remains somewhat of an obscurity, a talented and charismatic artist whose best efforts tend to bubble just under the mainstream. As such, Hiattology is a one of a rare breed – a John Hiatt bootleg – of which only a handful are known to exist. The disc features a performance from what is generally considered to be the commercial and critical peak of Hiatt’s career, the three-year period circa 1987-1989 that surrounds the release of his Bring the Family and Slow Turning albums.  

A fine soundboard recording from a January 1989 performance in Ottawa, Canada, the entire set showcased by Hiattology is drawn from the two aforementioned albums. Hiatt’s faithful legions of fans know this material like the back of their hands and it does, indeed, represent some of his best songs. Hiatt toured with a pick-up band dubbed the Goners during this period, this performance featuring the wonderful slide guitar of Sonny Landreth. All the material here is solid, but some songs stand out: “Memphis In the Meantime” is given a soulful, extended rendition while “Tennessee Plates” offers some particularly tasty riffage courtesy of Mr. Landreth. “Drive South” is pretty lively and “Thing Called Love,” a breakthrough hit for Bonnie Raitt, is performed here with heart, though less sass than Raitt’s version. Whoever edited this disc left in Hiatt’s between-song comments and intro, which definitely adds to the listening experience.

The final four songs on Hiattology are listed as from a December 1989 performance in Germany and feature guest stars Nick Lowe and Paul Carrack. Provided Hiatt’s onstage comments and given that the material is taken entirely from an earlier Hiatt album, Riding With the King, that was made with Lowe and Carrack, these songs are probably taken instead from a 1984 or ’85 performance. The four songs are good, but the true appeal of Hiattology lies in the Ottawa material. For those unfamiliar with Hiatt, this collection is a good way to discover the talents of this underappreciated performer and songwriter.

Review originally published by Live! Music Review zine, 1999

 

Vintage Review: John Hiatt's Beneath This Gruff Exterior (2003)

As a recording artist, John Hiatt has never achieved much more than cult status. He has never sold a lot of records; certainly not as many as other artists have recording Hiatt’s songs. Over the course of almost thirty years, however, Hiatt has forged a career of quiet excellence, creating nearly twenty consistently solid albums and writing hundreds of remarkable songs that lesser talents will be recording for decades to come. Entering his fourth decade of writing and performing, Hiatt epitomizes the spirit of rock ‘n’ roll, and if he never makes the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame, it will be that institution’s loss.

Hiatt’s Beneath This Gruff Exterior is another fine effort on the part of the underrated songwriter and his top-notch band the Goners. For those unfamiliar with Hiatt’s creative “modus operandi,” he pens literate songs that are peopled with brilliant characters – losers and lovers, the lost and the redeemed. Hiatt’s rough, soulful vocals are kind of like a frayed blanket, scratchy and worn but warm and familiar. The music is a mix of roots rock, Memphis soul, Delta blues, country, and folk, which is why Hiatt’s material lends itself so well to various interpretations.

Beneath This Gruff Exterior showcases both Hiatt’s songwriting skills and the road-worn chemistry of the Goners. Hiatt is not a bad guitarist, but he smartly steps aside and lets maestro Sonny Landreth fill his songs with whiplash slide work and a hint of bayou swamp-rock instrumental gumbo. The seasoned rhythm section of bassist Dave Ranson and drummer Kenneth Bevins keep an admirable beat beneath the festivities so that the magician Hiatt can weave his lyrical tales. The radio-ready "The Nagging Dark” rolls along like the runaway hearts of the song’s characters while “Circle Back” remembers the fleeting nature of friendships and family and the passage of time.

“Almost Fed Up With The Blues,” fueled by Landreth’s red-hot picking, is a brilliant anti-blues blues song, the protagonist sick and tired of being sick and tired. Hiatt’s imagery on “The Most Unoriginal Sin” is nearly the equal of vintage Dylan, Landreth’s shimmering fretwork creating an eerie atmosphere behind Hiatt’s somber vocals, the song’s star-crossed lover doomed before the first chorus strikes. Beneath This Gruff Exterior may not be the hall-of-fame caliber talent’s best album, but it doesn’t fall far from the top. (New West Records, released May 6th, 2003)

Review originally published by the View From The Hill community newspaper, Signal Hill CA

Vintage Review: John Hiatt's Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan? (1995)

John Hiatt has created a lengthy and prosperous career out of outliving other people's expectations. Originally labeled as a young punk in the vein of Elvis Costello or Joe Jackson, way back in the mid-‘70s, Hiatt outlived that albatross only to be pigeonholed as a singer/songwriter. Several country hits penned for other artists threatened to stereotype this talented artist as a Music Row songmeister; a trio of brilliant albums in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s served to revitalize Hiatt's career and send him along the road to stardom. Unsatisfied, Hiatt threw critics another curve, recording an uncompromising rock ‘n’ roll record  – Perfectly Good Guitar – with a bunch of young alternative types. When will they get it into their heads that Hiatt is one of those rare originals that can't be categorized. Hiatt loves the music, genres be damned.

Having more fun that he probably ever has, Hiatt now kicks out this set of fifteen cuts, Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan?, softly spoofing a trend towards live albums with the Budokan label on them that were hot shit when he first hit the scene. Recorded at a series of dates last spring (none of them in Japan), this collection is a fine representation of Hiatt's dynamic live performances. Culled from shows performed at venues as diverse and different as clubs, theaters, racetracks and auditoriums, Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan? showcases Hiatt's extraordinary songwriting skills on tracks like “Icy Blue Heart,” “Angel Eyes,” “Have A Little Faith In Me,” “Tennessee Plates,” and my personal fave, the rocking “Perfectly Good Guitar.”

Hiatt is a soulful vocalist, pouring his heart into each cut, wrapping each song with great emotion and electricity. Regardless of the size of the forum, Hiatt's delivery is warm and personal; the backing band, The Guilty Dogs, a solid set of professionals following Hiatt's lead. Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan? is not a "big sound" live disc like so many bands offer, instead it is a more subtle experience, one that plays to your heart and your mind rather than bludgeoning one into unconsciousness. In the marketplace of trends, this set may be overlooked; Hiatt transcends time, however, and cannot be refused his due. (A&M Records, released November 22nd, 1994)

Review originally published by R.A.D! Review and Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll zine, 1995