JUDAS PRIEST: SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE (SPECIAL 30TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION)

(LEGACY/SONY; 2012)

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Until quite recently, I owned very few Judas Priest albums: SAD WINGS OF DESTINY and SIN AFTER SIN epitomizes the Priest for me… both are excellent; the unfortunate debut, ROCKA ROLLA, which was given to me as a gift; the killer live album, UNLEASHED IN THE EAST. Somewhere along the way I picked up PRIEST… LIVE, which was a little bit of okay. Then… nothing until 1997’s JUGULATOR, which introduced the world to Rob Halford’s replacement, Tim “Ripper” Owens… not a bad album, really, though it got the short shrift from Priest fans. The “Ripper” era band also produced a live set called ’98 LIVE MELTDOWN.

Now, of course, with Halford back and with the record labels reissuing just about anything, a couple of 30th Anniversary editions have cropped up, BRITISH STEEL and, more recently, this album, SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE. I think Priest fell out of favor for me with the album HELL BENT FOR LEATHER (or KILLING MACHINE, everywhere but in the States). Didn’t like the cover (either one, actually) and didn’t like the song “Hell Bent For Leather.” I did, as mentioned, come back for the UNLEASHED IN THE EAST album, but, by then, the band had veered further into the realms of MTV pop for me (yeah… I know… sacrilege! The very same crap that made Priest superstars made me wanna puke!). But I digress… kinda. I will get to the point of this review, which is the double disc SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE reissue (a CD with extra live tracks and a DVD of a live set from the ensuing tour), somewhere around the next paragraph.

Judas Priest (uncredited photo)

Judas Priest (uncredited photo)

And, so… here we are, 30 years later with an album that is beloved by every metal-head on the planet… except me. But, I have done my due diligence and listened to the thing again so I could be objective. And, you know what? It ain’t as bad as I thought back then. It ain’t no SAD WINGS… and definitely ain’t on a par with SIN AFTER SIN, but I can listen to most of it today without becoming nauseous. Tracks like “Bloodstone,” “Pain and Pleasure,” “Devil’s Child” and the title song hold up fairly well after 30 years, while the big hit, “You’ve Got Another Thing Coming,” still sounds like New Kids On the Block to me. The “ballads,” “(Take These) Chains,” “Fever,” and the aforementioned “Pain and Pleasure,” are exactly what you’d expect from a heavy metal band during the early ’80s. Actually, under the steady hands of the Priest, they’re a tick or two above the generic “power ballads” of the day.

Halford’s vocal acrobatics hadn’t lost their edge (still haven’t today, as far as I can tell); the riffage and dual leads of guitarists KK Downing and Glenn Tipton are sharp throughout and the rhythm section of drummer Dave Holland and bassist Ian Hill – while not spectacular – are rock solid. The production, by Tom Allom, is crisp and very much of the time: a big drum sound and everything shined to perfection. Of course, even my favorite mid-’70s Priest albums were very well produced, eschewing the muddied sound that befell many metal records of that time, so the above statement isn’t a negative, just a fact.

Judas Priest (publicity photo)

Judas Priest (publicity photo)

Of course, what would an “Anniversary Edition” be without extras? Why… certainly nothing special (although there are some instances where even WITH the bonus material, the product is still nothing special). To fill out the original album’s less than 40 minute length, the CD has been expanded by six tracks, 5 live and 1 that I can only assume was recorded for use on the album or for a single B-side (I can’t find any information about that one anywhere!). The five live songs are SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE tunes that really add nothing to the originals, per se. I guess, from my perspective, the really cool thing about them is that they were recorded on September 10, 1982 (which happened to be my 24th birthday) at the San Antonio Civic Center (which just happens to be my home address… oops! That’s not right! What I meant to say is, “which just happens to be nowhere near where I was on that day”). The final cut is a ballady thing called “Prisoner of Your Eyes.” It’s kinda okay, but if it is an outtake, I can understand why: nothing spectacular or even particularly special. If it had turned up as a B-side somewhere, I don’t think people would have burned their copy of the record, but it may not have been played as often as some other minor Priest songs.

The second disc (aw, c’mon… you knew there’d be a second disc, right? I mean… there’s always a second disc!) is a DVD of the band’s full appearance at the Us Festival on May 29,1983. You remember the Us Fests, don’t you? Two holiday weekends of peace, love and drunken revelry that was supposed to bring the world together for a big ol’ bear-hug and a sloppy wet kiss to say, “I love ya, man!” So… anyway, the things were filmed by people who had no idea how to film a rock show. Throughout this performance, we get shots of Ian Hill’s back as Glenn Tipton shreds an awesome solo; then it’s off to a picture of Tipton’s guitar neck while KK Downing is soloing like a madman on the other end of the stage. And let’s not forget shots with the security guards blotting out everyone on stage or the crazy panning while they try to locate Halford as he comes onstage. Shouldn’t they have had production notes about such things? As far as the boys, themselves, there’s enough shiny spandex and studded leather to make Vince Neil and a whole herd of cows envious!

Rob Halford and Friend, Us Festival 1983 (uncredited photo)

Rob Halford and Friend, Us Festival 1983 (uncredited photo)

But enough about dubious wardrobe choices and the amateur-in-training visual aspects of the thing, how does it sound? Hmm… not perfect, but not bad. Not bad, at all. Halford proves early on that he owns one of the greatest voices in music (pick a genre, any genre) and, as mentioned regarding the studio recordings, Downing and Tipton play together and off each other superbly. Hill and Dave Holland may be boring to watch – especially the latter – but they keep the rest of the boys moving with a solid bottom-end. Set-wise, we understandably get a hefty dose of the then-current SCREAMING… album, a couple of my favorite Priest tunes (“Victim of Changes” and “Metal Gods”), two of the best covers I’ve ever heard (“Diamonds and Rust” and “The Green Manalishi (With the Two Prong Crown)”) and all of their NKOTB tracks (“Heading Out To the Highway,” “Breaking the Law,” “Living After Midnight” and “You’ve Got Another Thing Coming”). In a curious occurrence (maybe just to cement my New Kids digs), Rob Halford actually morphs into Madonna during “ …Another Thing… “ as he strikes one ridiculous pose after another. Even with all of the little (or medium-big) complaints, I did fairly enjoy watching one of the biggest metal bands of any era at the height of their popularity and, arguably, at the top of their game. If you’ve gotta own one CD version of SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE, make it this one!


THE SINGULAR MARK TWAIN: A BIOGRAPHY; MAKEUP TO BREAKUP: MY LIFE IN AND OUT OF KISS

(Fred Kaplan; 655 pages; DOUBLEDAY, 2003); (Peter Criss and Larry Sloman; 384 pages; SCRIBNER, 2012)

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One may ask (and rightly so), why are two such disparate (auto)biographies lumped together in one review? Well…

Short answer: These are actually the last two non-fiction books that I have read. Essay answer: I feel that, no matter how intriguing your subject matter (in Criss’ case, himself), at some point in the writing process, you’ve just gotta say, “Enough is enough!” In both instances, the story would have been much more enjoyable (and manageable) with… less! I mean, do you really care that on Clemens/Twain’s 63rd birthday, he was blessed with a healthy bowel movement? Yeah… okay… I’m exaggerating, but not by much. In the case of MAKEUP TO BREAKUP, a shaving (or, at the very least, a condensing) of a chapter or two wouldn’t have hurt. As far as Kaplan’s… uh… exhaustive (exhausting?) biography of Samuel Clemens/Mark Twain, shaving a couple hundred pages of minutia certainly would have made MY reading experience more enjoyable! His “no-stone-unturned” approach, while commendable, is fairly daunting. I mean, c’mon… in these hard economic times, everybody’s cutting back. Why not here?

Does that mean that I hated these books? No. Not really. At least, not completely. However, considering that I generally can read a couple of fair sized books in a week, the fact that it took over two MONTHS to complete THE SINGULAR MARK TWAIN, certainly doesn’t appear that it will be on my list of favorites or list of “re-reads.” Mister Kaplan’s thorough examination of perhaps the first true rock star of American literature comes off as dry and just a little foreboding to the ordinary reader. Once you get past the 655 pages of minutia, there’s still another 70 pages of notes and an index to further dissect the information (if more you must have)! I have only found one book impossible to get through, even though I’ve tried on several occasions, but this one sorely tried my patience. I would be lying, however, if I told you that I didn’t learn anything about the irascible humorist. His early allegiance to the South during the Civil War and his beliefs regarding slavery, while well-known, nonetheless came as a surprise as to the depths of both. The support Clemens offered his older brother, Orion, and the loathing that he harbored toward that same brother as a result was also unknown to me. There is an indication that he felt the same way about the rest of his family, as well, including his much-loved mother. As much as he doted on his wife, Livy, and their three daughters, he also spent much of his time away from them, not caring to be bothered by the intricacies of a family life.

Mark Twain and family in Hartford (The Mark Twain House & Museum-AP)

Mark Twain and family in Hartford (The Mark Twain House & Museum-AP)

The struggles of the man Samuel Clemens to rectify his life and short-comings with the mythical Mark Twain and his celebrity are, as they say, the stuff of legend. But even a legendary life can surely be summarized in a more concise, entertaining form than is offered in Fred Kaplan’s THE SINGULAR MARK TWAIN. Mister Kaplan is also the author of biographies on Thomas Carlyle and Charles Dickens, among others. I mention those two because I was very interested in seeking them out, but after sinking chest deep into the morass of this book, I think I’ll look for other options regarding the life of those two.

Mark Twain (uncredited photo) Peter Criss (Bryan Bedder-Getty Images)

Mark Twain (uncredited photo); Peter Criss (Bryan Bedder-Getty Images)

I think that, like many others, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Peter Criss. At the height of KISS’ career, he seemed to be the most together guy in the band. When he fell from grace, I tended to give him the benefit of the doubt. After reading his tell-all autobiography, MAKEUP TO BREAKUP, I still feel for the Cat. Not because he was wronged by band mates Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley, but because he was wrong in many instances himself and refuses to take responsibility. His cavalier attitude toward his sexual conquests collide head-on with his derision of Simmons’ and guitarist Ace Frehley’s sexual proclivities. He complains about Gene and Paul being all about the money, but he doesn’t see the hypocrisy of his abandoning his band, Criss, for the high-profile, high-profit KISS reunion tour in 1996 and quitting the band again – and turning his back on his one true friend in the group, Ace – when he discovered that Frehley was making more than he was per show. He attacks both current drummer Eric Singer and guitarist Tommy Thayer for wearing the Cat and Space-Ace make-up when both he and Frehley signed their rights to the make-up over to the KISS corporate body (in other words, Gene and Paul) for a few thousand dollars. He spends paragraphs discussing how betrayed he felt by his second wife when he discovered that she was having an affair, but shows little or no remorse for the fact that he was having sex with two or three women every night on the road; to say that’s expected because he’s in a rock band just doesn’t cut it! My point is, we all make mistakes; it’s what we learn from our mistakes that matter. Unfortunately, for Peter Criss, all he’s learned is avoidance of guilt and buck-passing.

Peter Criss (publicity photo)

Peter Criss (publicity photo)

 

Now, like the Clemens/Twain book, there are some enjoyable – even uplifting – moments (actually, more here than there). In particular, Criss’ wife Gigi’s fight with breast cancer and the ultimate revelation that he, too, had breast cancer was a wake-up call to everyone, males included, to do a regular self-examination. There are also some moments that could have been condensed (or cut completely!). Just about every person who reads this book is a KISS fan; they wanna know about Peter’s time in what was once the biggest band on the planet. As such, the first three chapters or so of the book (BK: Before KISS) could be cut down to one shorter, introductory chapter. The constant and continual references to dicks, titties, pussy and sexual gratification in its many forms get tiresome unless you’re a ten year old boy. Okay, Peter… we get it! You were a big rock star! The overwrought bashing of just about everyone who has ever been in Peter’s life tends to make this more of a “oh-woe-is-me” book as opposed to a tell-all. Manager Bill Aucoin and Casablanca Records owner Neil Bogart went above and beyond, financing the band and molding them into the juggernaut they became after the release of ALIVE in 1975, but one perceived slight from Peter Criss and they were finished in his mind. He never trusted them again and they became cannon-fodder in MAKEUP TO BREAKUP.

I have very fond memories of KISS and Peter Criss from their heyday in the ’70s. His raspy, Rod Stewart-like vocals were always a welcome surprise and his drum solo during “100,000 Years” on ALIVE is testament to his talents (and to his adoration of drum legend Gene Krupa). This book, though, leaves a rather bitter taste in my mouth. (DT)


ANT-BEE: LUNAR MUZIK

(DIVINE RECORDS, UK; 1997) A REVIEW FROM THE VAULTS (UPDATE BELOW)

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The entity known far and wide (and just around the corner) as Ant-Bee is actually a mad genius named Billy James, who has managed to cozy up to an unimaginable group of rock stars, including Gong’s Daevid Allen, every member of the original Alice Cooper with a name other than Alice Cooper (including the late Glen Buxton), and a slue of ex-Zappa sidemen who occasionally go by the name “Grandmothers” (Bunk Gardner, Motorhead Sherwood, Jimmy Carl Black, Roy Estrada, and Don Preston, among others). James himself is sort of a rock everyman: He plays drums, guitar, keyboards, bass; he writes… music and books (he’s written or co-written books about/with Peter Banks, Michael Bruce, Grand Funk Railroad, and – his latest – Todd Rundgren); he produces and, occasionally, he slices and dices (just like Sean “P. Doh-Wah Diddy-Daddy” Combs, only with talent); he promotes other musician’s releases. And, regardless of the involvement of the ex-Mothers, he has a definite Frank Zappa sensibility toward songwriting, production, and arrangement. Listen, for instance, to the album’s opener, “Snorks and Wheezes,” with its bizarre time changes, obtuse vocals in a psuedo-doo-wop middle section, and Ruth Underwood-style percussion, and tell me that you are not having a late ’60s-early ’70s Mothers flashback.

“Child of the Moon” is a pretty straight take on the old Jagger-Richard B-side, with some nice orchestration and vocals. It also features some nice acoustic work. Later, James and his uber-minions give the same treatment to Mike Nesmith’s amazing psychedelic country hit, “Love Is Only Sleeping.” There’s a wicked guitar solo – performed by Roy Herman – that weaves its way throughout “Love Is Only Sleeping,” adding to the overall psychedelic feel of the tune. Again, like Zappa, compositions/ideas tend to run together. The triptych nestled between “Child of the Moon” and “Love Is Only Sleeping” wanders between lunatic rave-ups (with a couple of wild backward guitar solos – which always seem to sound more impressive than they probably are – and a percussive coda repeated from “Snorks and Wheezes” on “Blew a Banana Thru the Sun”) and introspective balladry (complete with harpsicord, gongs, and lilting vocals on “The One Who Is Gold”) and back again (“Silicone Hump,” an ancient Don Preston piece of Turtles-esque lunacy). The album’s centerpiece, “By-and-By I Touch the Sky,” is a composition in four parts, encompassing Harvey Bainbridge’s (he of Hawkwind fame) “The Swan and the Horseshoe” and Neal Smith’s (he of Alice Cooper fame) “The Platinum God” sandwiched between original James music. The nearly ten minute piece continues LUNAR MUZIK’s thematic make-up: Pretty, almost pastoral vocals interspersed with manic percussion and noisy rock guitar. Bainbridge’s part is an almost ambient synthesizer wash, leading back to the main theme before giving way to “The Platinum God,” which features the four ex-Coopers – Neal Smith, Michael Bruce, Dennis Dunaway, and some trippy guitar from Glen Buxton, undoubtedly one of the last things he recorded before his death.

Ant-Bee/Billy James (publicity photo)

Ant-Bee/Billy James (publicity photo)

The album ends – much as it began – with songs running together, themes repeated and overlapping into each other. “Diva Gliss (Are You Sirius?),” which flows out of the final movement of “By-and-By I Touch the Sky,” is by Daevid Allen and features him on guitar; the tune leads – seamlessly – into “Tears That Fall Unto the Sky,” a return, as it were, to “By-and-By… ,” which leads into a Michael Bruce/Billy James composition called “Return of the Titanic Overture.” The piece features themes and pieces of music culled from the very first Alice Cooper album, PRETTIES FOR YOU. It, like “Tears That Fall Unto the Sky,” features Bruce’s guitar work. “Son of Snorks and Wheezes” closes the proceedings with an even more bizarre take on the opening track. It features most of the Grandmothers, with Jimmy Carl Black’s prominent Indian chants and attempts to extort money and beer from the producer. Boys and girls, this is the type of inspired lunacy that one could regularly expect to find in the record bins as the 1960s phased into the 1970s: Nearly virtuoso performances coupled with adventurous arrangements, melding rock with jazz, doo-wop, classical instrumentation, and big-band phrasing. Though the album has been out for awhile, it’s so hard to come by that I only recently acquired this CD-R copy from James himself and I just had to tell you about it. Oh, yeah… the album artwork is by some guy named Syd Barrett! (Check out Billy James’ “Web Bizarre” at www.ant-bee.com and, if you’re really nice to him, you may be able to pick up your very own copy of LUNAR MUZIK… before it’s too late!)

(UPDATE) Gonzo Multimedia’s reissue of LUNAR MUZIK was released in June 2014. For ordering information, check Billy’s site.