Superjoint (formerly Superjoint Ritual) is a hardcore/extreme metal/punk supergroup, formed in the early ‘90s by Pantera frontman Phil Anselmo, Jimmy Bower (Eyehategod, Crowbar) and Joe Fazzio. Their latest effort, CAUGHT UP IN THE GEARS OF APPLICATION, opens with what I can only describe as controlled chaos, in a way that only Anselmo and company can deliver. It’s a pretty relentless romp into dark themes and heavy grooves. There are some glimpses of their previous sound throughout, but all in all, this is a fresh sound with new ideas for the band.
SUPERJOINT (Kevin Bond, Jose Manuel Gonzalez, Phil Anselmo, Jimmy Bower, Stephen Taylor) (photo credit: DANIN DRAHOS)
The first half of the album is a sonic explosion, with Phil roaring nasty vocals in over-expertly crafted starts and stops in a way that exudes extreme deliberation, and you can tell that serious time was put in to writing the music. Despite the obvious age in his voice, Anselmo still has a vocal style unique to only himself. The opener, “Today and Tomorrow,” is a pretty good indication of what you’re getting into when you sit to listen to the album as a whole. “Burning the Blanket” is the gem of the first half, having extreme groove, and Phil screeching filthy highs over the latter half of the song.
The record really picks up during the second half, with “Clickbait,” which, in my opinion is the best song on the album and the best representation of the band’s new sound. The album closes up with “Receiving No Answer To the Knock,” which is a solid song and just goes to show you that although the record is over, Superjoint intends to kick your ass until the last second of it; the use of a dark, descending melody on guitar coupled with Anselmo’s best performance on the album let you know that they are not going anywhere anytime soon. Overall, CAUGHT UP IN THE GEARS… is an incredibly solid album and, if you have the time, you should really listen to the whole thing, as I think the totality of its eleven tunes plays better than any single track.
On paper, SLEEP NO MORE (also known as 200 HOURS, the working title) looks like a cool, ingenious sci-fi thriller; in fact, I was kinda hyped to check it out. I can’t say that the viewing experience made me wanna dig my eyes out (a not-so-veiled reference to an early event in the flick) but… I can tell you that the basic plot, cliched storytelling, unlikable characters and flat, cardboard acting (by some very good actors, by the way) left me feeling that I had just wasted an hour-and-a-half of my life.
SLEEP NO MORE (Stephen Ellis, Keli Price) (publicity still)
So, here’s the premise: The year is 1986 (or thereabouts) and a group of grad students are taking part in a “sleep study” at a prestigious university somewhere (they’re ALWAYS somewhere, aren’t they?). The study theorizes that if one can go 200 hours without sleep, that person will reach “lucidity” and will be free of the constraints of sleep. All of this, of course, is dependent upon an experimental drug called cogniphan. When one of the test subjects (played by Lukas Gage) goes off the deep end, the funding for the project is rescinded and the plug pulled. As this happens right before summer break, the remaining subjects, wont to abandon the study volunteer to remain at the research facility for the two weeks necessary to obtain “lucidity.” Dale (Stephen Ellis), one of the four, is leery of staying on after witnessing the gruesome end of their fellow guinea pig but, having the hots for Holly (Christine Dwyer), decides to stick around and becomes the group’s control subject. The dominant force among the students, Joe (Keli Price), is – to use technical terminology – schtupping Doctor Ella Whatley (Yasmine Aker), the faculty advisor, so he doesn’t fall to the circumstantial evidence that she may have – uh – exaggerated the truth about animal tests that may or may not have been used to further advance the testing into human territory. And, from there, things become a bit murky.
SLEEP NO MORE (Brea Grant, Keli Price) (publicity still)
Seemingly, the only semi-intelligent scientist in the bunch is Frannie (Brea Grant) who lays her cards on the table, folds her hand and gets the heck outta Dodge after Dale accidentally ingests a vial of the no-dose drug. Everything and everyone begins to devolve from that point. Of course, she’s pulled back into the insanity by Joe mere hours before his scheduled “lucidity.” Why? Because the hallucinations that they all experienced turned out to be real manifestations from the dream world, ticked off that they ain’t got nowhere to go what with no one doing any sleeping. Makes sense to me. I mean, I tend to get very cross if I don’t have anybody to play with for a few days. Anyway, without blowing the ending for you if you’re still interested in sitting through SLEEP NO MORE, I’ll just say that there is no happy ending here. That phrase actually has a dual meaning here. Hopefully, the first is rather obvious from my brief descriptions; the second, however, comes from the fact that the ending leaves things wide open for a sequel. I can honestly say that I would have to be severely sleep-deprived to sit through another one of these things. But, I’ll just leave this trailer right here so you can make your own decision about watching (or not watching) SLEEP NO MORE:
The movie is available on DVD, Video On Demand or as a digital download. It does feature some harsh language, several graphic scenes of violence, the usual gratuitous nudity (via a video of an obscure slasher movie from the ‘80s) and equally gratuitous 1980s British pop confectioneries. You have been warned!
In 1988, Geffen Records released an album of pop music with haughty (some would say pretentious) rock overtones by a band called 3. That band featured two-thirds of Emerson, Lake and Palmer (the sixty-six percent that wasn’t Greg Lake) and multi-instrumentalist journeyman, Robert Berry. The partnership was an attempt to play the more melodic style of progressive rock which had given Palmer and Berry (with Asia and GTR, respectively) some successes in the previous few years. Maybe the impetus grew from Keith Emerson’s desire for a wider audience than he ever experienced in the Nice or ELP; a growing need to be accepted. Whatever brought the three together, the resulting record, … To THE POWER OF THREE, was well received. With the band doing well on the road, Keith began to feel stifled by the record company’s insistence that they strike while the iron was hot, virtually demanding that they return to the studio to begin work on album number two; Keith’s answer was simple: He quit. Fast forward to 2015. Robert found himself in conversations with Italy’s Frontier Records regarding a new project from 3; After consulting with Emerson (but, apparently, not Carl Palmer) regarding the possibility of resurrecting the band, the two began writing and demoing new material, scheduled studio time, signed contracts with Frontier and… as quickly as it began, it was over: Keith Emerson had committed suicide. Reeling from the loss, Berry set aside the project; after a time of grieving and reflecting, Robert decided to once again resurrect the project – utilizing songs and snippets of ideas that he and Emerson had shared – as a final farewell to his friend and band-mate. Working as a one man band, he began work on what would become THE RULES HAVE CHANGED under the name 3.2. Does it work? For the most part, I think so. The record is split fifty-fifty with new Berry compositions and pieces that he and Keith had been working on before the latter’s death. Still, Emerson’s larger-than-life character and overwhelming musical sensibility are felt throughout what Robert has accomplished here.
3.2 (Robert Berry) (publicity photo)
“One By One” starts with a magnificent, cinematic piano piece before a grandiose, symphonic blast of power propels the song into the first verse, where Mister Berry’s pop leanings are on display front-and-center. Here, the number takes on the feel and scope of an Asia-like progressive ballad; the instrumental passages convey a blend of piano-driven Jazz and Classical phrasing, which informed much of Emerson’s career. Time changes and sudden shifts in style over the tune’s seven-plus minutes, while off-putting at first blush eventually come into focus as the ultimate tribute and a heartfelt homage to Keith Emerson. On “Powerful Man,” the original intent of the group is brought into sharper focus, with what could be considered a more radio friendly sound within a simpler – by comparison – more compact and focused five minute rock song, led by Robert’s Emerson-inspired keyboard work. This certainly would not sound out of place nestled between the poppier works of GTR, Asia or even Trevor Rabin-era Yes. With the title track, the pomposity almost crushes the feel of what the artist was trying to convey, lyrically. The song is a double-edged sword, as the words could be taken as a betrayal by a lover or, more deeply, it may also be construed as an open letter in which Robert attempts to heal the wounds torn open by Emerson’s suicide. Perhaps “The Rules Have Changed” would have been better with a more stripped-down approach but, then, Keith Emerson was never known for his subtlety. Referencing many of Emerson’s most well-known riffs, “Our Bond” is, finally, Robert Berry’s soul stripped bare over the loss of a dear friend. Likewise, the music is stripped of any pretensions of grandiosity. This, the third of four numbers written solely by Berry, brought a shiver to my spine, particularly the perfect, lone piano that closes out the piece. It is, by far, my favorite track thus far.
“What You’re Dreaming Now” has the unmistakable mark of Keith Emerson and the glory days of ELP (as well as a bit of ELPowell ‘80s bombast) all over it; Berry’s vocal phrasing even shares a certain quality, if not timbre, with Greg Lake while his drumming exhibits the power of Cozy Powell along with the finesse of Carl Palmer. It may not be the strongest composition on the album, but for sheer progressive physicality, it’s hard to beat. The playful, almost joyful sound of WORKS-era Emerson, Lake and Palmer (I’m thinking something like “Tiger In a Spotlight” from …VOLUME TWO) are in full effect on “Somebody’s Watching,” with a pumping bass and a guitar set to “power chord stun.” The keyboards sound as if they could have been recorded by Emerson at any time over his illustrious career; as Keith has a co-writing and co-arrangement credit on the tune, one does wonder if Robert used a snippet of a demo that Keith had provided and built the track around that unfinished framework. “This Letter” starts off as beautiful ballad, with a nice acoustic guitar lead and hints and echoes of piano playing around and beneath a ragged vocal; an synth-derived orchestra plays in as the pace begins to quicken at about the halfway mark. All well and good but, the piece begins to morph into a sort of gypsy parody of itself shortly after the introduction of a ragtime piano and we are soon witness to the number devolving into something so far afield from where it began that the joy – for me, anyway – is sucked right out of it. It’s as if Berry has taken two very different songs and jammed them together in an attempt to… what? The first half borders on exceptional while the second half borders on theatrical overkill. Things are definitely back on track with the final track, “Your Mark On The World,” with power chords aplenty and the return of the Emerson penchant for verbose noodling on every keyboard he could get his hands on. As much as I dislike the second half of “This Letter” for that same verboseness, it works in the context of this more upbeat number. Oddly enough, the thing seemed to end way before it was actually over – at 5:20, Robert just… stops! It really felt like it could have and should have gone on for another two minutes, at least. Oh, well… such are the vagaries of Rock and Roll and, if it took me almost an entire record to find something to complain about, I’d say that Robert Berry has done Keith Emerson proud. Well done, Mister Berry!
3.2 (Robert Berry, Keith Emerson) (uncredited photo)
Upon first seeing the name, Adrian Aardvark seemed to me a devouring angel, an agent of the bleakest of Black Metals. Nah… just kidding. In fact, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this album but, I gotta say, it isn’t at all like anything else I’ve heard before… not even close! I mean, it looks and smells like a rock and roll record, spliced with a fair amount of Americana and not a little bit of angst. Even so, my initial thoughts were leaning toward “Ah! Someone’s rich father has bought studio time for his son and his friends to record an album. Kinda like the Shags, woefully untalented but determined to become a band.” After a couple of songs, however, I began to warm up to, even appreciate, what this motley crew were attempting to convey. Oddly enough, while researching the band for this piece, I was amazed to discover that DYING OPTIMISTICALLY is the group’s seventh release since 2008 (and the first since BONES POSITIVE, an EP released in 2014)! I cannot honestly conceive of how I could have missed anything for the last ten years called Adrian Aardvark, though I am now old enough that such things do escape me upon occasion. Anyway, on to the review…
ADRIAN AARDVARK (Daz Bird, Shannon Stott-Rigsbee, Catherine Harrison-Wurster, Christopher Stott-Rigsbee) (photo credit: JERRY CADIEUX)
The first thing that you notice on “Just Us” is alluded to in rather veiled terms up above: Everything (wait… make that EVERYTHING) seems woefully out of tune, with the singer, Christopher Stott-Rigsbee, sounding alarmingly like a drunken karaoke enthusiast. Somewhere around the two minute mark, things almost come together, as a fuzzy bass (or, is it a cello?), insistent drumming and the scraping of a violin keep the thing from totally going over the cliff. Bonus points for – unlike the short prelude/introduction/tune-up that starts the song off – everything ending together. “If Only” definitely sounds like a drunken lament to a litany of “what if’s” in a relationship gone very wrong. Stott-Rigsbee lists his transgressions before admitting, “Yes, I am ashamed of my insecurities/Yes, I am ashamed of my stupid feelings.” Here, the music kinda sounds more in tune and of one mind, occupying a certain feedback/drone frequency that is not unappealing. In fact, the discordant buzz of the whole mess is really starting to grow on me. The cello takes a more prominent spot on “Peace In a Loving Way,” with Shannon Stott-Rigsbee droning away masterfully. The lyrics seem as though they are wedged into a melody that is simply too small to adequately contain them; try, for instance, to fit the first verse into any standard rock format without breaking your tongue: “Through updates, versions and brand new postages/The letters inside remain the same as they travel to/You through signals unseen, speaking words/Floating like waves whisper your way.” It ain’t easy. Even so, at less than two-and-a-half minutes, it feels like you’re in and out almost before you realize that the sound – and, in fact, the entire record – is actually becoming, not only palatable but, begrudgingly enjoyable, as well. The bizarrely-titled “Young Pharaohs and Horses” comes with an equally bizarre video… as it should! Drummer Daz Bard adds a bit of trombone to the proceedings, with Shannon chiming in with a scratchy (whinnying?) violin part; the weird, out-of-place gang vocals, like just about everything else on this album, are no doubt added to merely muddle the lyrical issue. Four songs in and Christopher is starting to come across as more of a true musical genius, as opposed to the offspring of a wealthy Daddy Warbucks type bankrolling his kid’s musical aspirations. “I Don’t Wanna Love No More” is a step back for me. It isn’t necessarily that the sentiments aren’t spot-on in a society of individuals struggling to find their place but, the acapella (aside from three drum rolls somewhere in the middle) delivery – impassioned as it is – just doesn’t do it for me. “Little Girl,” however, is a completely different beast. Despite some rather questionable lyrics: “I am a little girl in a big big world/My dress so clean and my hair is curled” and “Don’t you want to ride with me/Don’t you want to sleep with me” (allusions to Christopher Stott-Rigsbee’s… uh… fluid sexual identity, I know, but… still… ), this is the most fully realized, hardest rocking and most in-tune song so far. A throbbing bass line (Catherine Harrison-Wurster… on the upright, no less) and a frantic vocal performance from Christopher highlight the number.
“Creaky Wooden Floor” opens the second half – continuing the strong showing from “Little Girl” – with more weird metaphorical (metaphysical?) lyrics about beets and elephants. The song is pretty nifty, in a New Country kind of way and is delivered, like the previous four tracks, in a short, punk rock fashion. On “Get Gotten,” a chunky guitar riff rides along for a spell before being joined by a very nice violin part; the unmelodic, unnerving howls of Stott-Rigsbee deliver quite an impressive effect. Somewhere about two minutes in, the whole thing shifts gears amidst a beautifully shambolic break before completely collapsing in upon itself at the end. I may have just crowned a new favorite track! There is an insistent hint of didgeridoo (a masterfully understated performance by Christopher) throughout “Horny Wildebeast,” which seems perfectly natural given the song’s title. After a rather rambunctious start, the final four minutes or so seem to settle into a nice mid-tempo with – dare I say? – quietly elegant violin and cello dancing over the top. “Oo Ra Ra” and “The Sun” form a sort of intermingled couplet, with melody, choruses and chanting kinda running through the two-as-one pieces (or, piece, as the case may be). The former is a surprisingly melodic bit of falderol with lyrics somehow befitting the proceedings, such as “Put down the knife, we don’t have to fight/We can make love till morning’s light.” The number eventually devolves into the type of musical chants that the “natives” in all of those old Johnny Weissmuller movies are so fond of. “The Sun” blasts forth from that, a forceful, blistering piece of noise of the type I find so appealing. The lyrics here tend to lean toward a rather cogent warning from everybody’s favorite ball of light: “Feel my heat/Feel the cancer/You can’t be given life/Without being given death.” Oh, Sun, you’re such a kidder! A cool, unexpected blast of the Blues, filtered through various other styles of what has generally become known as “Americana” may, at a mere five-and-a-quarter minutes, prove “Misery Shaker” to be Adrian Aardvark’s magnum opus. Time changes and style shifts glide together seamlessly, held together by the superior percussive efforts of Daz Bird.
As mentioned at the outset, I was totally unprepared for the musical onslaught of Adrian Aardvark and was, initially, taken aback by the complete atonality of the first track but… I must say that I have been richly rewarded by sticking with the program, seeing it through to its brilliant climax. Heck, I may just have to revisit the group’s Bandcamp page and listen to their other releases… after I’ve rested up a bit from this DYING OPTIMISTICALLY experience.
The music of Stratospheerius is a frenzied, brilliant amalgam of the Blues, Progressive Rock, Funk, improvisational Jazz, Classical and orchestral music, along with just about any other genre or sub-genre you can come up with. I’m not sure, but… there may also be a bit of the kitchen sink in there somewhere. Led by virtuoso violinist Joe Deninzon, a man sometimes referred to as “the Jimi Hendrix of the electric violin,” the quartet comes closest in spirit – if not in actual sonic delivery – to the early music (through, say, 1976’s ZOOT ALLURES) of Frank Zappa and his various groups. The resultant sound is a chaotic rush of genuine (and genius) eclecticism. There is certainly more than a little of something for everyone on the band’s fifth release, GUILTY OF INNOCENCE.
JOE DENINZON AND STRATOSPHEERIUS (Aurelien Budynek, Joe Deninzon, Lucianna Padmore, Jamie Bishop) (uncredited photo)
The record kicks off with “Behind the Curtain.” With lyrics like “Welcome to the circus/It’s your biggest nightmare/Wear the scarlet letter/Scrutinized forever” and “Put your mask on/And tuck your shirt in/Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” the song acts as a sort of catch-all warning against the behind-the-scenes machinations that fuel the music industry or intolerance or political correctness or… You get the point. With a heavy, pound-yer-face-in riff-a-rama approach, bassist Jamie Bishop and drummer Lucianna Padmore lay down an exceptionally tight groove allowing Deninzon and guitarist Aurelien Budynek to go crazy with wicked dueling solos. As an opening salvo or as a stand alone piece of music, this one is a near-perfect shot across the bow of accepted norms. “Take Your Medicine” is a nasty little piece of work about “glass houses” and “casting the first stone.” It’s a bass heavy blast of funkiness with Joe’s violin filling in nicely for a full horn section. Guitar, violin and vocals add a rather hard rock urgency to the proceedings, with another dose of wild soloing, a feature that lends a certain Zappa-esque quality to this record. According to Mister Deninzon, the title track (“Guilty of Innocence,” for those with a short memory span) was “inspired by my 2012 stint in jury duty and deals with crime and punishment. I was presiding on a rape trial and the guy who I thought was guilty got off practically scot-free.” Padmore and Bishop lay down a modest Ska-influenced groove, while spastic violin leads and muscular metal riffs drive the tune. The violins and bass take on an almost operatic quality during the break and, just because I enjoy mentioning musical touch-points to give the reader a better idea of what to expect, the song’s chorus has a very Who-like feel, melodically speaking. Piling on to that musical heritage, let me say that if you’re a fan of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones or the previously mentioned Frank Zappa, you’re gonna love this one. “Face” is a sombre little ditty, sort of a slow burn piece with scathing lyrics about people (lovers, partners, friends, perfect strangers) who are more than willing to openly attack you just for the pure enjoyment: “These scars ain’t healing/It’s too late to make amends/I dodge the bullet/Your tongue flies across the room/Build up the callous/’Til I grow numb to the doom and gloom.” A very Hendrix-ian solo by Deninzon adds a certain psychedelic (or maybe it’s “psychotic”) mania to the number. The introduction to the frantic retelling of the Muse hit “Hysteria” features glass-shattering soprano Melanie Mitrano before a warbling high-register vocal from Joe takes over; the latter fits the surrounding chaos of the tune perfectly. There’s a certain “Flight of the Bumble Bee” quality to the always on-point violin work, highlighted by a massive solo, all backed impeccably by the metal leanings of Stratospheerius.
“Affluenza” is another funky number with “ripped from the headlines” lyrics about people who believe themselves superior to “the little people” and, therefore, above the law because of that superior wealth and high standards of living. The song has a kind of Living Colour rock vibe happening, with lyrical barbs aplenty over sharp jabs of guitar and violin. Guest performer Rave Tesar adds an oddly appealing set of synthesizer “bloops,” giving the whole thing a cool late ‘70s funk sound. A hard(ish) rocking, progressive sort of pop-metal thing with Queen-like aspirations, “Parallel Reality” is choke full of breathy vocals, an absolutely killer rhythm (and a melody line to match) and, of course, the usual high-minded violin/guitar interplay that makes this band and this album essential listening. “Game of Chicken” starts out sounding like it coulda been an OVER-NITE SENSATION outtake, but then turns into sort of a Kansas prog-pop kinda thing. The playing and soloing remain top-notch and raise the piece out of what could have been a severe abyss of doldrums. The wholly (holy?) improvisational “Dream Diary Cadenza” is a muscular, solo violin freakout rife with flashes of Hendrixisms, Van Halenisms, Beckisms, Zappaisms and any other guitar genius ism that you could ever bring to mind. A brilliant workout from a master technician of his chosen craft. “Soul Food” is a nearly thirteen minute extravaganza with a veritable orchestra of guest artists: Melanie Mitrano, Rave Tesar, guitarists Alex Skolnick (!) and Randy McStine, violinist Eddie Venegas, violist (?) Earl Maneein and cellists Patrice Jackson and Leo Grinhaus. The piece is epic in every musical sense of the word and is, truly, a fitting end to a superb album. You owe it to yourself to obtain GUILTY OF INNOCENCE; you can do so by visiting CD Baby, Amazon or any of the other “usual places” and, naturally, at the group’s Bandcamp page.
If I had to come up with one word to describe THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM, it would probably be “stylish.” However, that isn’t the way reviews work, so… let’s get to it, shall we? The film, based on the Peter Ackroyd novel, THE TRIAL OF ELIZABETH CREE (also known asDAN LEO AND THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM), is a tightly woven murder mystery set in the Limehouse district of 1880 London. At the time, Limehouse was a dark and gritty place and, geographically, not too far from Jack the Ripper’s Whitechapel haunts of 1888. Thanks to the attention to detail by director Juan Carlos Medina, cinematographer Simon Dennis, set decorator Pilar Foy and all of the other talented individuals on the other side of the camera, the seediness and rather tawdry look and feel of the sets (especially the music hall, where much of the movie takes place) are as important to the plot as any single character.
THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM (Olivia Cooke, Douglas Booth) (photo courtesy: NICOLA DOVE)
That plot unfolds from the end, with a music hall dramatization of the murder trial of Lizzie Cree, an abused and neglected child who has grown up to be an abused and neglected young woman. Amid a frenzy of savage murders perpetrated by a sadistic slasher dubbed the Golem, Lizzie is accused of murdering her husband, John, a failed author, aspiring playwright and primary suspect for the Goelm’s grizzly work. The public, fascinated and horrified by the Golem murders, demands answers and an end to the madness; faced with the possibility of failure, the high-ranking Scotland Yard official handling the case passes the assignment off to Inspector John Kildare, a senior detective with “problems” of his own. With Kildare installed as the fall-guy, the Yard’s hierarchy sees a chance to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak: If Kildare fails to stop the killings, the top brass can save themselves a personal humiliation by laying the blame squarely at the feet of a man they don’t like and want to be rid of. And, why don’t they like Kildare? He is one of THOSE fellows – the Inspector is gay, something not well tolerated in the nineteenth century. By extension, Kildare also inherits the Cree murder case, which leads to a kind of father/daughter relationship with Lizzie. Believing her husband to be the murderous fiend terrorizing Limehouse, the Inspector seeks to prove John guilty in an effort to free Lizzie on a self-defense plea.
THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM (Daniel Mays, Maria Valverde, Bill Nighy) (photo courtesy: NICK WALL)
As the tale continues to be told with a glance backwards, we are introduced to several characters essential to the Cree’s story, including Dan Leo, a flamboyant music hall performer and stage “narrator”; a stage director and calming presence for the music hall troupe called “Uncle”; aerialist and sexual focal point of the group, Aveline Ortega; and, in flashback fashion, perhaps the person most pivotal to Lizzie’s current woes, her mother. In the 1995 novel, Ackroyd populated his story with several historical figures; Jane Goldman’s script retains three of those luminaries for the film version, to stunning effectiveness: George Gissing, the troubled author whose first novel, WORKERS IN THE DAWN, was published in 1880; Karl Marx, the father of modern Socialism and Communism; and the aforementioned Leo. It is never an easy task to weave real personalities into a work of fiction, but the creative team responsible for THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM have peopled the story with an entire cast of realistically believable characters that the trio of Leo, Gissing and Marx fit right into the surrounding landscape. All three lived in London during the time of THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM, with both Marx and Gissing appearing on the suspect list (and in Kildare’s reimagining of the grizzly killings).
THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM (María Valverde, Sam Reid, Douglas Booth, Olivia Cooke, Eddie Marsan) (photo courtesy: NICOLA DOVE)
While I fairly well had sussed out who the killer was early into the film, I found myself second-guessing my theories – changing my mind several times as Inspector Kildare and his equally astute assistant investigator, Officer George Flood, interviewed Lizzie and her music hall compatriots and unearthed new leads. Yet, the story is so well done that, when the identity of the Golem is finally revealed, you aren’t disappointed in the least. This is a movie and a story that works so well on so many levels. At the beginning of this review, I told you about the artistic and stylistic beauty of the sets… to that beauty, we can definitely add the work of costume designer, Claire Anderson, whose slightly modern take on the wardrobes of Victorian Londoners is every bit as important to the look of THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM as anything else. Of course, any film is ultimately based on the talents of the people on the screen and this one is stacked with actors perfect for their roles, even if one is actually a replacement for another beloved performer. Olivia Cooke (ME AND EARL AND THE DYING GIRL and the BATES MOTEL television series) is devastatingly vulnerable as Lizzie Cree, while Sam Reid is suitably smarmy as her fame-seeking husband, John; as both business man/mentor and over-the-top stage performer, Douglas Booth (JUPITER ASCENDING, as well as Reid’s co-star in THE RIOT CLUB), shines in the pivotal role of Dan Leo; Spanish beauty Maria Valverde sizzles as Aveline Ortega; in fact, each member of the supporting cast shines brightly and each is given their moment in the spotlight, including Eddie Marsan (Uncle), Keeley Forsyth and Amelia Crouch (as Lizzie’s mother and a younger Lizzie in a couple of frightening sequences that give the viewer important insight into the character) and Daniel Mays (as the rather uptight but totally professional – and loyal – George Flood). As brilliant as these cast members are, I’m not sure that this flick would have risen to the heights to which I have elevated it if it were not for the presence of Bill Nighy (Davy Jones in the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN movies, Minister Rufus Scrimgeour in HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, PART ONE and a ton of video games and animated stuff over the last decade or so) as Inspector John Kildare; with Nighy’s understated performance, Kildare is thoughtful, vulnerable and, though set-upon (and set to fail), determined to get at the truth. Nighy was a last minute replacement for Alan Rickman, who was forced to pull out of the project due to illness (the film is dedicated to Rickman, who passed away in 2016).
THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM (Olivia Cooke, Bill Nighy) (photo courtesy: NICK WALL)
Obviously, to divulge too many of the intricacies of the plot would be akin to telling your kids that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist (remember how that turned out for Dwayne Johnson in THAT movie?), so I’m just going to tell you that THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM is worth your attention and, even if you think you have things figured out in the first twenty minutes, you won’t see the end coming. Just getting to the end is a thrilling, chilling ride through the dark underbelly of late nineteenth century London. Anyone who has ever explored, examined or theorized over the case of Jack the Ripper will certainly recognize the similarities here… that was Ackroyd’s intent with his novel. The fact that the film incorporates several of the tropes common to modern police procedural and crime scene investigation fiction keeps things fresh and allows us to play armchair detective, all the while rooting for Lizzie and Kildare; the fact that both of the main characters are fundamentally flawed (but, then, aren’t we all?) keeps us intrigued and totally invested in the story’s outcome. As always, there are certain scenes, as well as the generally violent theme of the movie that some may find objectionable and, as such, I would probably advise parents of children thirteen or younger to steer clear of THE LIMEHOUSE GOLEM while the kids are around… though I’m sure that they could possibly see far worse on an episode of LAW AND ORDER: SVU.
SOUTHERN BLOOD is a fitting last release for the star-crossed survivor, Gregg Allman. Allman was quite ill and he knew that this would be his last record, a final goodbye to his fans, a love letter to family and friends. As his son, Devon, writes in the liner notes. “What you hold in your hands is our father’s last statement. He wanted to leave you a most poignant, soulful and deep parting gift as he left us all.” The album is filled with great tunes – most of them covers – done in that inimitable Allman style, with that whiskey voice and Southern growl, maybe a little weaker due to his failing health but unmistakable, nonetheless. That style made him a true rock legend, alongside his brother, Duane, and their prototype for Southern Rock and Blues, the Allman Brothers Band. His band – Steve Potts and Marc Quinones on drums and percussion, Ronald Johnson on bass, Peter Levin on keyboards, a horn section of Jay Collins, Marc Franklin and Art Edmaiston and musical director Scott Sharrard on guitar – offer just the right tone and backing for such an important project.
GREGG ALLMAN (photo credit: PATRICIA O’DRISCOLL)
The covers range from Tim Buckley’s “Once I Was” and Willie Dixon’s “I Love the Life I Live” to Bob Dylan’s, “Going Going Gone” and Lowell George’s “Willin’,” songs that leave the listener with a bitter-sweet feeling, as they all – in one way or another – deal with endings and loss and loneliness. One of the most powerful songs on SOUTHERN BLOOD is the Grateful Dead’s “Black Muddy River,” as Gregg sings “I will walk alone by the black muddy river/And dream me a dream of my own.” What an emotional, draining song, with a mournful pedal steel part provided by Greg Leisz. Jackson Browne guests on his own “Song For Adam,” possibly the most gut-wrenchingly beautiful lament as, according to producer Don Was, “Gregg always loved this song because it reminded him of his brother, Duane. When he gets to the line ‘Still it seems that he stopped singing in the middle of his song,’ you can here him choke up and falter.” Was says that they never got to finish the song’s last two lines and feels that it was a “poetic way for him to make his exit.” Definitely a fitting end to a storied career and a final album.
GREGG ALLMAN (photo credit: MATT BUTLER)
Like David Bowie before him, Gregg Allman knew this would be his final statement and he put everything – his heart, his soul – into it. It will stand as a great, lasting testament to Gregg and his phenomenal legacy. His life and his legacy can best be summed up in the record’s opening cut, an original called “My Only True Friend.” If these lyrics don’t bring a tear to your eye, nothing will: “Keep me in your heart/Keep your soul on the mend,” “I hope you’re haunted by the music of my soul/When I’m gone,” “I can’t bear to think this might be the end” and “Still on and on I run/It feels like home is just around the bend/I got so much left to give/But I’m running out of time, my friend.” Rest well, friend. Enjoy that reunion with Duane and Barry.
KEVIN RENICK is one check closer to completing his bucket list.
Micky Dolenz (photo credit: KAY TUOHY)
Micky Dolenz was always my favorite Monkee. They all had their charm, of course, but Micky seemed to me to be the most knowing, the most IN on the joke and the most determined to have as much fun with it as possible. The initial “joke,” of course, was that this quartet of Beatlemania-aping youngsters – three Americans and one Brit – would produce a madcap TV show in the mid-’60s that would hopefully yield a non-stop string of radio hits penned by the likes of Carole King, Neil Diamond, Boyce and Hart and many others. Producers Bob Rafelson and Bert Schneider definitely seemed to view the whole thing through the lens of satire, and hired hand music producer Don Kirshner felt it was his job to feed the music through the hit machine he was in charge of, and to NOT let the boys get too cocky or assertive. Let’s have FUN, kooky visuals but slick, well-constructed pop tunes for the ears… that seemed to be the mandate. And Micky was the singer on a majority of the band’s hits… “Last Train to Clarksville,” “I’m a Believer,” “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone,” “Pleasant Valley Sunday” and many more. He wasn’t the “cute one,” that distinction went to Davy Jones. And Mike Nesmith was the group’s quirky intellectual, the one who had a discernibly broader agenda and undeniable charisma. Peter Tork was arguably the group’s most polished musician. But Micky Dolenz embodied the spirit of the Monkees thing better than anyone – he delivered his lines with the most sass, he had nonstop energy (throughout the many reunions as well), and, frankly, he had the best voice, one which has probably been underrated through the years. Micky can SING. And his natural ability to be a professional showman, an audience pleaser, has probably been the most anchoring element of this group in its different incarnations. It’s impossible to imagine the later Monkees successes – the ’86 comeback on MTV, the later trio tours, the wildly successful 50th reunion album and tour – without Micky’s boundless energy. You really HAVE to thank him for the band’s durability all these years later; he’s a gamer, plain and simple. And by the way, that “joke” I mentioned above? Well, the real joke – and triumph – was that the Monkees were damn good. Rock and Roll Hall of Fame be damned – these guys showed a staying power that no one could have predicted, thanks to fabulously catchy songs, the early determination to prove they could actually PLAY their instruments (and even write songs!), and a gift for both re-invention AND nostalgia stoking, which meant that every time they “came back” from seeming oblivion, a huge audience was waiting. One that included the rabid older fans and ever curious NEW fans. Hey hey, they’re the Monkees! But they didn’t monkey around when it came to delivering what fans wanted, time after time.
The Monkees (Peter Tork, Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones) (screen shot)
“I realized a long time ago that if you give the audience what they want, which is those hits they like, you can just about do anything else you want,” said Dolenz during a long-awaited phone interview recently. “And in my case, every time I do a show, I liken it to someone throwing me a birthday party. The audience is so excited to hear those songs. It feeds you! It feeds the fire.”
Dolenz was responding to my question about how an artist mostly associated with an “oldies” type act, can keep singing the same songs over and over, and still be engaged. How do you keep the experience fresh for yourself?
“I can only speak for myself. I can’t speak for Mike or Peter or David,” he said. “After the Monkees, I sort of bailed out on that part of the business for a while. I moved to England, and for about 15 years I was directing and producing television shows. I did no Monkee business. And when I came back in 1986 for that reunion, it all felt very new to me again! I never really made a major attempt after the Monkees to have a solo career. Not as an artist or writer. I don’t write that much, you know… I had done a couple of little things here and there, but I was never really a writer or anything.”
So for Dolenz, performing those eternally popular songs was not a problem. “Pleasant Valley Sunday?”
“Oh, that is definitely one of my favorites. I always favored Carole King and Gerry Goffin’s stuff.”
The concert favorite “Goin’ Down?” “Yeah, that’s a great one.” More on “Goin’ Down” in a moment, but the point is that Dolenz was perfectly happy fulfilling audience expectations.
“I wasn’t trying to do all new material,” he said. “I’m not one of those performers who says ‘I’m not gonna do any of my old hits.’ But again, I can only speak for myself.”
I mention that nostalgia is actually a good thing in music, it provides added resonance for listeners who grew up with a certain kind of music. People WANT to relive great moments from their youth, and what’s wrong with that?
“Sure. And another reason I have no problem with it is, I have done other things in my life. I’ve done musical theater (his credits include AIDA, PIPPIN and a London stage production of HAIRSPRAY in 2010). I’ve gotten great reviews, and I’ve played great characters. So if I go out and do a Monkees concert or a Mickey Dolenz concert, it’s not the only arrow in my quiver. It’s not the only thing I’ve done. But it’s certainly the thing I’m most remembered for.”
Micky Dolenz and Joyce DeWitt in a 2014 production of COMEDY IS HARD! (uncredited photo)
Any baby boomer can recite favorite moments from the first phase of Monkee mania: that inescapable theme song from the TV show, the irresistibly catchy early hits like “ …Steppin’ Stone,” “I’m a Believer,” “She” and “A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You,” the frenzied energy of the show, a pioneering experiment in the concept of music video. Some people may even remember the unlikely, limited tour that featured Jimi Hendrix as an opening act, something I did NOT have a chance to ask Dolenz about. I was more interested in talking about their music, and though I didn’t get to bring up all my favorite songs, I DID ask about “Goin’ Down,” easily one of Dolenz’s finest hours as a vocalist. Over a jazz-laced romping arrangement that expanded the group’s sonic palette rather significantly, Dolenz sings a rapidfire, tempo-challenging lyric that would be far beyond the ability of most vocalists. The case for Dolenz as one of the finest pop singers of the era was made right then and there, and that was way back in 1967. I tell him how extraordinary the track is.
“The story is, there was a song that Mose Allison, a jazz singer, had done – it was called ‘Parchman Farm,’” Dolenz begins. “It was an old bluesy/jazzy kind of thing. I don’t even know if he wrote it (Kevin’s note: he didn’t). It was only three chords. And I always wanted to do it. Peter had done it in the Village when he was coming up, he liked it also. So Mike and I and Peter and Davy laid down a track… it had no melody, just basically this three-chord progression. And when we finished, it was so hot, but then Mike said, and rightly so, ‘I love Mose Allison, and I love that song… but why would the Monkees cover Mose Allison? It’s just a three chord progression! Let’s have someone write some WORDS for our track.’ So we gave it to Diane Hildebrand. And she came back with the song… and the first time that I routined it with her, we played the track. And I had the lyrics in front of me. So I sang it, (Dolenz sings a few lines of the song to me first at the familiar rapid tempo, then at the sluggish tempo he employed when first rehearsing it.) And Diane goes ‘No, No, it should be TWICE that fast!’ (he laughs) And I said ‘What?’ So I rehearsed it, obviously, and then laid the vocal down. Yeah, it’s a big one.”
I tell Micky my poignant story about “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone,” which in a nutshell, is simply that my good friend and musical colleague, Rick Haegg, whom I had a lot of music plans with, died before we could get ourselves on video significantly. The performance of us doing the Monkees song live at Lindberg’s, in Springfield, MO, is destined to be the only YouTube clip of us out there. Micky used my mom’s expression “Oh, wow” in response to this story. But what I had LONG wanted to ask Dolenz about was, of course, Neil Young. Dolenz did a gentle cover of Young’s “Sugar Mountain” on his 1991 collection of pop lullabyes, MICKY DOLENZ PUTS YOU TO SLEEP. But more significant is the fact that it’s still not widely known among casual fans that Neil played on three or four Monkees songs, including “You and I” and the gorgeous “As We Go Along,” from the legendary HEAD soundtrack.
Micky Dolenz, soundchecking on the Monkees’ 2014 tour (uncredited photo)
“Oh, God,” Dolenz exclaims at the mention of that song. “Absolutely one of my favorites.” The shimmering acoustic guitars of the track and another stellar Carole King lyric (in collaboration with Toni Stern) propel Dolenz to what might be his most romantic vocal ever. “Give up your secrets/Let down your hair/And sit with me here by the firelight… Why think about/Who’s gonna win out?/We’ll make up our story as we go along.” Those are beautifully evocative lines that, when combined with the exquisite tune and a sweeping performance by Dolenz, can induce genuine chills. And yes, Neil Young plays guitar on it. But just HOW did ol’ Neil get involved?
“Well, he was just around, like everybody was at that time,” Dolenz replied. “I think he had a close relationship with Carole King, and so that’s why he might have been on that one. But everybody was around. Stephen Stills, Buddy Miles, Carole. It was a pretty small community. Everybody sort of hung around at everybody else’s house. Neil was around all the time. It could’ve been the producer, Jack (Nicholson, a co-producer of the soundtrack). Or Ry Cooder, he was the other guitar player on that. It’s also well known that not only us, but everyone was using the Wrecking Crew. Have you seen that documentary?”
Dolenz was referring to an acclaimed 2008 documentary about the legendary group of studio musicians who played on countless major recordings in the ‘60s. I felt guilty that I hadn’t seen it and told him I’d make an effort to do so.
“You should watch it. Yeah, the Wrecking Crew… it was Tommy Tedesco, Hal Blaine, Joe Osborn, Carol Kaye, Leon Russell. Glen Campbell. Lots of others. They played on everybody’s stuff. A lot of the Beach Boys stuff. In fact, the story goes that there isn’t one Beach Boy on ‘Good Vibrations’ except for the singing, of course. They played on a lot of early Byrds recordings… the Association… Mamas and Papas. In those days, that’s what you did. Lots of stuff. I’m so glad they are finally getting recognition.”
I asked about Glen Campbell, since he’d died quite recently. What did Micky most remember about him?
“Oh, I have lots of memories. We became really good friends. He was in the Wrecking Crew. We kind of just hit it off. We both had families at the same time… in fact, our families hung out. We had barbecues together. One day Glen said, ‘Do you remember your first recording session? Before the Monkees?’ I vaguely remembered it. I was singing around LA at the time. I didn’t know much about recording at all. There were four or five musicians there at the session. I was maybe 19 or 20. So we did the recording, and then the Monkees thing happened. And Glen Campbell said ‘Well, I was your guitar player.’ It was the Wrecking Crew! The song was called ‘Don’t Do It.’ Glen played on it. And Joe Osborn on bass. We did another one called ‘Huff Puff.’ Yeah, Glen was just a great guy.”
Dolenz had also been friends with another legendary songwriter, Harry Nilsson. For the 50th Anniversary of the Monkees, a remarkable set of circumstances came together to spark a new Monkees record, GOOD TIMES, in 2016. It’s a fantastic and surprising recording, which got some help from the discovery of some half-finished Monkees tunes in the vaults, one of which featured Nilsson.
The Monkees (Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Peter Tork, Mike Nesmith) (publicity photo)
“It all came together pretty quickly when we were discussing what we were gonna do for the 50th anniversary,” Dolenz explained. “We had some unfinished tracks from the ‘60s, songs written by Carole King, Neil Diamond and Harry Nilsson. And there were vocals on some, like ‘Good Times,’ the one that Harry wrote. That was obviously gonna be for me to sing on eventually. Harry had put down a pretty hot vocal as a guide vocal. And I thought, Wow, I could do a duet with my old friend Harry Nilsson! So we ended up calling the album GOOD TIMES, that was my idea. And that was the title track.”
Then all sorts of famous songwriters came out of nowhere to be part of this project, right? You discovered that the Monkees had fans in high places!
“What happened was that the record label and producers reached out on their rolodex, and all of a sudden we get songs submitted by Rivers Cuomo, Andy Partridge (from XTC). Noel Gallagher and Paul Weller. Ben Gibbard. It just exploded and took off. I am very grateful and flattered and proud of the album. We got great reviews, too. Even ROLLING STONE gave us a good review, and they were never so into the Monkees before!”
I mention how unprecedented it is for a band to have a top 20 album 50 years after the fact. Compilations or hits collections might make the charts later in an artist’s career, but for that to happen with a NEW album? Truly remarkable!
“Yeah, it occurred to me,” Dolenz began with a laugh. “The equivalent in 1966, back when the Beatles, Stones and the Monkees were around, would have been for an act from 1916 to now have a top 20 album. It would have been something by Al Jolson or Enrico Caruso!” We both laughed loudly.
Micky Dolenz, 2014 Monkees tour (uncredited photo)
But there was something truly remarkable in the strength of the songs on GOOD TIMES. Mike Nesmith sings “Me and Magdalena” with a delicacy that truly elevates the gorgeous melody to a transcendent level (Dolenz provides harmonies). Peter Tork is at his very strongest on “Little Girl” and “Wasn’t Born To Follow.” And no one could have anticipated the luscious psychedelia and beautiful joint vocal performance of Nesmith and Dolenz on the Noel Gallagher/Paul Weller co-write, “Birth of an Accidental Hipster.” Such musical surprises led ULTIMATE CLASSIC ROCK to declare that “the fact that there is a new Monkees album in 2016 is miraculous enough, but that said album, GOOD TIMES!, is nothing short of a masterpiece is astounding.” Fans like yours truly were genuinely amazed.
“It’s obviously very gratifying,” said Dolenz. “It took the three of us… well, actually the four of us, because even Davy has a song on there (“Love To Love”). But everything just came together… It had a lot to do with the producer, Adam Schlesinger, who really was enthusiastic. We just kind of caught lightning in a bottle.”
Is there any chance of another Monkees record happening in the future? After all, Micky said that even the notoriously reluctant Mike Nesmith loved making this record.
“Well, nothing is in the works right now. We are still riding the crest of the wave off GOOD TIMES. It did pretty well. In my solo show, I even do three songs off that album. The general consensus was that we didn’t want to try to follow that up right away with GOOD TIMES 2. But down the road, you never know.”
Speaking of “the road,” Dolenz performed no less than 60-plus concerts last year, which took him and Peter Tork to four countries. And this summer, he’s been doing the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE tour with Mark Lindsey (from Paul Revere and the Raiders) and the Beatles tribute band, the Fab Four. Solo, duo or the odd theatre gig, Dolenz seems to never rest. How does he keep up the stamina for so many shows?
“To answer your question, I DON’T,” he laughs. “I get beat up pretty hard. There’s a saying we have, ‘You don’t get paid to sing, you get paid to travel.’ The singing is FREE. I don’t travel very well, it’s hard on me. Probably the hardest thing about doing this.”
Micky Dolenz performing at the Davy Jones Memorial show, 2012 (photo credit: CINDY ORD/GETTY IMAGES)
Nonetheless, Dolenz is having a good time doing the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE tour, and I asked him what it’s like performing with his old chum, Lindsey, whose parent band was big around the same time as the Monkees. This show features them performing together.
“Yeah, this is not like a typical compilation show, where one act comes out and does 20 minutes, then the next act comes out,” he said. “The unique thing is that we do the whole show together. We’re both on stage the whole time. He sings on some of my songs and I sing on some of his. We talk in between and do some schtick. We open with ‘ …Steppin’ Stone,’ and we talk about it. He recorded the song, and he’ll say, ‘You know, I did it first.’ But I’ll say ‘Yeah, but I had the hit!’ It’s quite interesting. The set list is based on the SONGS, not who is singing them. It’s a little bit like a Rat Pack thing.”
Dolenz talks about how both he and Lindsey were on the ‘60s TV show WHERE THE ACTION IS, which I tell him I remembered watching. We also talk about enthusiasm for the Monkees’ music in England, Australia and Japan. And the participation of his sister Coco in the latest touring Monkees show (vocals and percussion), and how his daughter, Georgia, just graduated from the Groundlings improve comedy school, and how she and her pop run a furniture business together, called Dolenz and Daughters Fine Furniture. It seems there are constant surprises in Micky Dolenz’s career, and nary a dull moment. It’s plenty of work, and not much “monkeying around.” He knows he’s a beloved pop legend, though, and is grateful for his unlikely and diverse career. I had a zillion more questions I would have liked to ask him, and felt like I had barely scratched the surface in our short chat. But he’s a super busy guy, and was nice enough to give me some time despite an illness in his family. I try to express a level of admiration that would cover how I grew up with him, found myself astonished by the many Monkees reunions through the years and by that amazing new album, and how he’d been on my bucket list of desired interviews. I couldn’t say it all. Micky Dolenz! Wow! But even though I am hardly the first to tell him I’m a devoted Monkees fan and that he is truly one of the most underrated singers ever, I am happy to say it to him personally, anyway.
Micky Dolenz in his Dolenz and Daughters workshop, 2014 (uncredited photo)
“Thank you very much,” is his modest reply. And then I went along, with a HEAD full of impressions…
Once again, my life has intersected with the occult band Ancient VVisdom, led by lyricist, vocalist and Satanist, Nathan “Opposition” Jochum. The group has released three previous albums (including my introduction to the group, 2014’s SACRIFICIAL), as well as a notorious single-sided split with Charles Manson. Yes… THAT Charles Manson. The guy who is rumored to have written a tune or three with the Beach Boys’ Dennis Wilson. So, with a name like that and lyrics like that and a pedigree like that, their new record, 33, should be heavy enough to have its own gravitational pull. And, it is that heavy… except in the delivery. Antithetical to SACRIFICIAL, this is an album of mid-tempo, near-folk Gothic rock with acoustic guitars aplenty, minimal percussion and an almost soothing vocal performance. Sure, there are plenty of recognizable metal tropes on 33, with enough reference points to keep any headbanging historian ooh-ing and aah-ing but, the heaviness doesn’t come from any crushing musical fury; rather, the true heaviness comes from Jochum’s belief in what he’s singing. Whether you are – like Nathan himself – a true believer in the power of Lucifer or – like yours truly – a follower of Christ, you can feel the man’s fervor and… well, love for the subject matter. And, wherever you fall within that wide spectrum of beliefs, that emotional connection between Jochum and his own belief system makes for a very heavy – and very real – listening experience.
The genesis of the album is a fairly simple one. As Nathan explains, “33 is a master number. It is also the age Christ was crucified. 33 is the age of the peak of existence. It is the age I am. 33 is the answer.” With that concept in mind, Jochum – along with his brother, guitarist Michael (the Dark Angel) and new bass player, Connor Metsker – created his ultimate peaen to the Dark Lord, the first new music from Ancient Vvisdom in three years. Admittedly, it may sound a little strange to hear love songs to Satan but, again, with Nathan’s fervent beliefs laid bare, the lyrics aren’t as disagreeable as you might think. The album opener, “Ascending Eternally,” is a minor key piano piece which serves as a short, atmospheric intro to “Light of Lucifer,” a kind of space hippie, semi-acoustic dirge that – more than anything else – recalls very early Pink Floyd. With nearly whispered vocals, a wicked, droney vibe and the underlying philosophy of “less is more,” the track definitely gets the record off to a great start. “In the Name of Satan” has a Sabbath-like riff that’s dense enough to caulk Tony Iommi’s entire house. And, yet… even with that heavy riffage on display, as well as some rather hefty percussion (Nathan, again proving that less is indeed more, offers nothing more than a lead foot – or, perhaps, a Led foot? – to the pedal of a kick drum to produce the perfect percussive part for the song) and some Maidenesque twin guitar leads over the top, the number seems to be a near-balladic love song. Hearkening back to the last album, Jochum’s vocals are a nasally cross between Klaus Meine and Ozzy Osbourne. With the band seemingly working its way through every conceivable metal touchstone, “True Will” is Metallica’s “One,” with all of that band’s angst removed… just to prove it can be done! It features more of Nathan’s fine acoustic work floating through some great lead work from Michael. If possible, the vocals are even more understated than on “Light of Lucifer,” making the track that much more powerful. “The Infernal One” is very groove-oriented and much more of a ‘90s alt-rock sort of thing – it comes off as an oddly appealing cross between Soundgarden and Manowar, with kind of a ‘70s arena rock guitar solo thrown in for good measure. It’s actually not a bad song at all, though it seems a bit short at less than three minutes.
Ancient VVisdom (Connor Metsker, Nathan Jochum, Michael Jochum) (publicity photo)
The bass-heavy slab of Sabbath-cum-Metallica-cum-Gothic instrumental moodiness, “Summoning Eternal Light,” gives Connor Metsker a chance to shine (no pun intended). Like similar tracks from Geezer and Cliff, it works well as a stand alone piece or as an intro to the next number. Here, that number is “Rise Fallen Angel,” which features still more Sabbath crunch with Dio-like lyrics of mysticism and spiritualism, while visions of the mighty Priest (along with Cirith Ungol, Diamond Head and Night Demon) dance in your head. It may not be a masterpiece, but it is close. “33” is the one where the group (and, in particular, Nathan Jochum’s vocal performance) revisits that weird Blue Oyster Cult/Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser world of heavy ballads. The only thing missing is an actual drummer; far be it from me to question such decisions but, that one missing factor could have possibly pushed the entire album over the top. As is, though, the return to the heavily BOC-influenced SACRIFICIAL sound may also make “33,” lyrically, the most powerful song on the record. Having stumbled upon the BOC comparison, I am now hearing more evidence that the Jochum boys owe more than a fleeting nod to that august court. On “The Great Beast,” the vocals have settled into a nice pop-rock niche, while the music adds a wickedly cool swamp vibe to the proceedings. This track is definitely in the running for my favorite on the album. “Lux” starts off with a languid, melancholic slice of Americana before the song proper kicks in, a languid, melancholic slice of Americana, with self-affirming lyrics and a chorus that pleads – or warns – “Don’t give yourself away.” I gotta say that the further I head into 33, the better it sounds. A short, chilling piano piece called “Dispelling Darkness” closes the album. Echo-drenched and sustain-heavy, the thing may be the single most disturbing piece of music I’ve heard this year. I wonder how it would have sounded if it had been fleshed out into a full band arrangement with suitably maudlin lyrics. Ah, well… one can dream, can’t one? 33 may not be Nathan Jochum and Ancient Vvisdom’s magnum opus, but… it is one fine record.
Mark Lindsay, 2013 HAPPY TOGETHER TOUR (photo credit: TOM LEPARSKAS/O’BRIEN)
Let’s be honest: While the band played up the name of their leader, the undisputed focal point of Paul Revere and the Raiders was singer Mark Lindsay. Obviously, he was blessed with the smoldering good looks that made him the object of millions of teenage girls’ fantasies but, he also had an intangible savagery – in his vocal delivery and his stage presence – that made him cool enough for the guys to like; both of those things were enough for some parents to ban the group’s records from their homes and pin-up pages from TIGERBEAT, 16 and FLIP magazines from their daughters’ walls but, the songs Mark and the Raiders performed, at least until 1967 (or thereabouts), was pure pop confection (Lindsay’s growl aside) that most parents found rather innocuous and non-threatening to their impressionable offspring.
After winning a talent contest at fifteen, Mark was offered a spot in a band called the Idaho Playboys; however, the group’s leader (one Freddy Chapman) relocated shortly after, leaving the Playboys (minus Lindsay) to soldier on, playing the local bar circuit with their new organist, a guy called Paul Revere. Mark caught the band’s act one fateful night, asking them if he could join in for a few numbers. The next day, a chance meeting with Revere, who walked into the bakery where the youngster was working led to Mark joining Revere’s nascent group of musicians. As the group’s sound began to gel into a rough Rhythm and Blues, Lindsay suggested they adopt the name, the Downbeats, after the influential Jazz magazine of the same name. That was in 1958 and the two went on to perform together for nearly two decades.
The two prime movers of the band soon decided to exploit Paul’s name, changing their moniker to Paul Revere and the Raiders and adopting the dress of the Revolutionary War’s Colonial Army. It wasn’t long before Columbia Records began adding “featuring Mark Lindsay” to the group’s name on album covers and single labels. By 1966’s THE SPIRIT OF ‘67 (released under the title GOOD THING in the United Kingdom), Mark was not only singing and playing sax with the group, he was also writing many of the Raiders’ tunes – occasionally with Revere and various other Raiders but, usually with his friend, producer Terry Melcher. He was also the ONLY band member to appear on a majority of those tunes, including the hits; in fact, more than a few of those singles were originally recorded as Mark Lindsay solo records. When Lindsay finally left the Raiders in 1975, he had already forged a fairly impressive solo career. Somewhere along the way, disillusionment crept in and Mark decided to call it a career but, the pull of the studio and the stage brought him back… only to retire again a few years later. The man, however, has music stamped into those little genomial strands of DNA, so he is continually drawn back to his first love (sorry, Deborah). With recent stints on Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan’s HAPPY TOGETHER package tours and the occasional solo show under his belt (and a new album in the offing), he remains a solid live commodity to promoters and venues across the country.
Paul Revere and the Raiders, 1967 (Phil Volk, Drake Levin, Paul Revere, Mike Smith, Mark Lindsay) (photo credit: ASSOCIATED PRESS)
This summer, Lindsay has joined his old friend, the Monkees’ Micky Dolenz, for the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE TOUR, a night of Dean-and-Jerry-like frivolity and music. I had the chance to speak with Mark recently about his career, working with Dolenz and the new tour.
THE MULE: You’ve been performing, making music since you were like sixteen, seventeen years old.
MARK LINDSAY: Well, more like thirteen to fifteen. I was a kid.
THE MULE: Okay. Did you ever, in your wildest dreams, think that you’d still be doing… that you’d be doing this nearly sixty years on?
MARK: Believe me, I never thought I would LIVE to be this old. I mean, I thought… When I was starting out, I thought, “What is there after thirty?” You know? What future would anybody have after thirty? I really thought that was the end of it but, obviously, I would’ve been very surprised. However, I’m very gratified that I’m still doin’ it.
THE MULE: Very nice. Yeah, you know… it always amazes me that there are a lot of guys (and ladies) that were big… uh… mid-sixties, early seventies and so on that still just have this incredible drive and desire to do what you do and it…
MARK: It was… It’s so much fun to do and so gratifying and, as long as I can do it, have fun doing it and do it well… hopefully!… and if people still keep coming… I mean, Rock and Roll, which Mitch Miller predicted would die in the ‘60s, of course, never died and it’s still out there and as long as… It’s still alive, man. I mean, it’s the only genre of music that I get to give that’s lasted fifty years. So, more power to it!
THE MULE: Exactly. And, you know, just to touch on a couple of points through your career before we jump into the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE TOUR. Uh… you worked with Paul Revere and various versions of the Raiders for a very long time and, I know that you kinda had like a… an up-and-down relationship – if you want to call it that – with Paul and… I’m just curious to know if you were in contact with him or he with you during the latter years of his life. Or, really, any of the old Raiders guys.
Mark Lindsay (photo courtesy: REAL GONE MUSIC/SONY MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT)
MARK: Well… Yeah, I was with the Raiders, as you said, throughout the whole recording career, basically. I was on every song that the Raiders had that was a hit. In the later years, I… it was an up-and-down relationship but, in the later years, I did try to stay in touch with Paul but, he was… he had a lot of problems, as you know, and unfortunately, we never got that last conversation that I would like to have had. But, you know… That’s the way life goes sometimes.
THE MULE: Yeah… yeah. Another big, driving force, possibly in your career… certainly the career of the Raiders was Dick Clark. I mean, he really kinda stepped up and said, “Hey, I want you guys for this,” and he pushed you to the forefront…
MARK: Well, he gave us a platform and we just kinda took over and, you know… He actually hired the Raiders, he confessed later, for a thirteen week period and he thought that if the show – WHERE THE ACTION IS – took off, he’d be able to hire a real band. At the end of the thirteen week period, luckily, the… it was kinda like a precursor to MTV… the whole nation got to see us and the whole nation… I guess, most of them liked us because, by the end of that thirteen week period, we had become that real band he was looking for.
THE MULE: How much… You know, every band goes through it… there’s a period, mid-’60s kind of stuff, where it was more of a Pop feel and you’re kinda… even though you wrote a majority of the songs, a majority of the hits, there were other people involved in songwriting and, probably, there were other people coming and performing the parts that – generally speaking – the band should be playing… I mean, how much of that actually happened, how much was actually the Raiders in the studio, doing it the right way?
Paul Revere and the Raiders, circa 1966 (Paul Revere, Drake Levin, Mark Lindsay, Phil Volk, Mike Smith) (uncredited photo)
MARK: Well, the Raiders… the guys… everybody played on the records up until and through “Good Thing” and then, after that, we were touring so much – we were on the road, like 250 nights a year – and Columbia had a three album schedule… you know, they wanted three albums a year – and, of course, they wanted singles. So, Terry (Melcher) and I would write, or we’d get Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, who wrote… “Kicks” and “Hungry” were a couple of their songs. But, we would record… we would start the songs and go into the studio and, of course, if you listen to… I would say ninety percent of the music that was cut in the mid-’60s in Los Angeles, the Wrecking Crew was either THE band or part of the band, however supplemental. We just didn’t have enough time to “can” everything, so Terry would work on the tracks while we were gone and then, I’d come in and put the lead vocal on and we’d spin it there to the background. I mean, we’d… But, that was the formula we used and some of us… From time to time, some of the guys would be on the record but, it wasn’t a thing with a whole band type of luxury of being in the studio at the same time. We just didn’t have time to do that.
THE MULE: That had to be like, really just exhausting for you because… yeah, you can replace a guitar player, you can replace a drummer, you can replace a keyboard player but, you cannot replace the recognizable voice of a band.
Paul Revere and the Raiders, 1967 (Paul Revere, Drake Levin, Phil Volk, Mark Lindsay, Mike Smith) (publicity photo)
MARK: You know, it was… Looking back on it, it should have been more exhausting but, quite frankly, there was no place I would have rather been. I mean, I liked performing on the road but, I really liked the studio, so, when I came back from a tour, I would drop my bag and head for the studio. And, basically stay there until we had to be on the road again. But, I enjoyed it so much that it didn’t seem… there was no question. You know, when you’re in your twenties, you can kill yourself several times and still bounce back from the dead. It didn’t seem to be that much of a hardship at the time. I really enjoyed it.
THE MULE: Right, right. We’re just not quite so resilient nowadays.
MARK: Yeah. I enjoyed making music so much, that it was certainly a lot more of a positive thing than it was a negative thing for me, so… I had a lot of fun.
THE MULE: Cool. So, let’s move into… uh… today.
THE MULE: So, what can we expect on the thirteenth in Saint Louis – the Saint Charles Family Arena – with the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE TOUR? And… I guess, how has this tour differed from the HAPPY TOGETHER shows you were involved with?
MARK: Well, HAPPY TOGETHER, of course, has each artist… It’s more… it’s kinda like the formula that Dick Clark… CAVALCADE OF STARS. You had one band come on and one act, then another and then another until everybody had played. The difference with 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE is, Micky and I are together but, instead of one performer doing his songs and then… you know, opening up for the other guy or vice-versa, were both onstage, basically, together all the time and, we’re doing Monkees songs and Raiders songs, of course, but… he’s singing on some of the Raiders songs, I’m singing on some of the Monkees songs… we goof around. It’s just more of a partnership or a duo onstage so, I really don’t know what you can expect. Basically, we’re both onstage from the time the curtain goes up to the time the curtain goes down.
THE MULE: Awesome! Now, you… Obviously, both of you guys were on TIGERBEAT covers and, you know, everything throughout the ‘60s but, how and when did you and Micky actually meet?
Mark Lindsay, 1967 (photo credit: TEEN LIFE MAGAZINE)
MARK: Oh, we met WAY back. He was… I lived a the top of the hill, Lookout Mountain over Laurel Canyon and he lived in the Canyon. We got together from time to time but, we both were so busy at the time, we didn’t have much time to hang out. There wasn’t much hang out time that was happening. So, I’ve known Micky for a long time. I mean, we’ve gotten together over the years but, not to the extent that we’re together now. But, it’s just a lot of fun, a fun show. I’ve heard comments from people who see the show, it’s really different than anything else because it’s not just one guy coming out and doing his hits and then another guy coming out and doing his hits. It’s more of a joint effort, for sure.
THE MULE: So, this is a chance for Saint Louis to hear, probably, the two most famous versions of “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone,” then.
MARK: Oh, yeah. You bet! We do it together.
THE MULE: Cool! That’s awesome. That was one of the things that I was wondering… how you guys were going to handle that song, in particular. Uh… the Fab Four, the Beatles tribute… they are opening the show but, they’re also acting as the house band, right?
MARK: Yeah. They open the show. They have an incredible act. If you… I mean, I swear, they sound so much like the original guys, the Beatles and, they look like ‘em. You know, they have the costumes and everything. So, if you close your eyes… you don’t have to close your eyes even… it’s almost like hearing SERGEANT PEPPER… live. If you could hear SERGEANT PEPPER… live. But, since the Beatles will never be together… that’s impossible ‘cause a couple of those guys are… uh… we’ll never see it again. But, it takes you right back to the sixties and between… you know, the Beatles had so… Oh, my gosh, they pretty much performed the soundtrack of our lives. And, of course, the Monkees had a lot of hits and the Raiders had a lot of hits so, if you like that period of time – the mid-’60s – which I think is one of the richest and most prolific times of Rock and Roll… so many great songs were being written and so many great acts were out there. If you like that period of time, you’re gonna be taken right back there and, of course, with Micky and I doing… you know, singing part of each other’s songs and being together, you get a different take of a song… at least, ours, as well.
THE MULE: How do the musicians kind of fit in with what you’re doing and how do you guys… Micky and you… Do you kind of attempt some Beatles stuff throughout your set?
MARK: We leave most of… Well, we do a couple of songs toward the end that… Most of the Beatles songs are done by the Fab Four. We have… Luckily, the Raiders and the Monkees both had enough hits that we have plenty of material for our own show. But, it’s just… It’s just a lot of fun. That’s all I can tell ya. I mean, you never know exactly what’s gonna happen.
THE MULE: So… let’s get into your new album, your new project. Tell us about that a little bit and how everyone can get a copy of it.
Mark Lindsay with Brian Wilson, 2013 (photo credit: JEFFREY FOSKETT)
MARK: Well, it’s not quite out yet but, it will be. It’s songs I started two or three years ago. I started… Brian Wilson was looking for songs for a solo album so, I started writing some songs that I thought were kind of like evocative of the period and that I could kind of hear the Beach Boys doing in that kind of style and… I presented them to him and he liked a lot of them but, then, I don’t know what happened… Maybe his producer didn’t care for the tunes. One thing led to another and nothing happened. The songs were just laying there, so I went, “Well, what the heck?” So, I went ahead and finished them myself and… uh… So, it’s like… it’s just kind of a slice of that time, that much… a kind of a… I don’t want to say softer edges… Well, yeah… A slightly different style of music than people probably expect from me. But, I think the songs are great and I had a lot of fun doing it and it’s going to be out soon. It’s called… It was started long before this 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE TOUR was proposed but, that’s the title of the project. It’s called SUMMER OF LOVE. I wrote a couple of songs with that title so, it kind of fits in but, it’ll be available quickly.
THE MULE: Alright. We’ll be looking for it. Definitely. So, I guess we can wrap this up. With all of your solo stuff, the stuff you did with the Raiders, the various package tours that you’ve been on over the years… uh… Everything – soundtracks, movie roles… What are you most proud of in your life and in your career?
MARK: Well, probably, I think “Indian Reservation” is certainly an iconic record and production. I’m very proud of that. For a lot of reasons – lyrically and performance-wise but, it was just such a statement for the time that needed to be… a story that needed to be told. The song was written by John D Loudermilk and one of the reasons that it sold almost six million copies is the fact that it was just something that, you know, was very timely and… uh… There it is. I’m proud of a lot of stuff but, if I had to pick one… one thing – and, that’s very hard to do… because it’s not as much Rock and Roll as, for example, “Good Thing,” but, just for a song that made a statement that probably impacted more people than any other, I’d pick that.
THE MULE: Okay… awesome. I would tend to agree. I mean, I can think of a lot of songs that I really, really like but… I was born in ‘58 so, you know, by the time that came around, I was really just kinda starting to get into music and stuff and I remember the first time I heard that… it was just like, “Uumph!” You know? It hit me like… It meant something, you know?
MARK: Yeah. It was… Well, all the musicians on the record, it was… It’s funny… it was basically going to be a Mark Lindsay single and we cut it as that but, I was… Since I produced it, I thought it was great but, I wasn’t sure whether I thought it was great because I produced it or because it was really great. So, I was very ambivalent about releasing it under my name and so, finally, the… Jack Gold, the head of A and R for CBS said, “Look, if you don’t wanna release this as Mark Lindsay, I’m gonna put it out as the Raiders.” I said, “Okay. Fine.” And, he did. So, it’s the biggest record the Raiders never played on!
THE MULE: That’s funny! How big… You know, another question occurs to me. I mean, we talked about Dick Clark and we talked about Paul… How big of – I guess I can’t say “influence,” because it would be more the business side of things, but… How much did Clive Davis play into the career of the Raiders and Mark Lindsay?
Paul Revere and the Raiders, 1969 (Paul Revere, Keith Allison, Freddy Weller, Mark Lindsay, Joe Correro, Junior) (uncredited photo)
MARK: Well, he was on our side through most things. Whenever I asked him for something, I usually got it. But, there’s one thing that he asked me to do that I didn’t do and, I don’t know what would have happened had I done it. But, I don’t regret it. In the middle of the Raiders’ career, like in the late ‘60s, early ‘70s, he came to me with an idea and he said, “Look, I want you to leave the group and become a solo artist.” And he played me some songs and he said, “I think you could… ” He’d heard some of the solo stuff and he said, “I think you can be, you know, like a… ” He didn’t say but, he kinda intimated… like Johnny Mathis. “Wow… well, that’s pretty ambitious!” You know? I mean, nobody can be a Johnny Mathis. Except Johnny Mathis. I like… Basically, it came down to, I just like Rock and Roll so much that I said, “I’ll continue to do my solo stuff but, I don’t wanna leave the group.” So, that’s where that one… And, that’s the only thing that he asked me to do that I didn’t do but, you know, it all worked out in the end!
THE MULE: Yeah, absolutely! I’d say it did. You’ve had a great career… ‘60s stuff, ‘70s stuff still sounds crisp and enjoyable today and, I’m just lookin’ forward to seeing you on the thirteenth and maybe hang out a little bit and we can maybe discuss some stuff a little bit further.
MARK: Okay, Darren, I look forward to it and… uh… like I say, I can’t guarantee what’s gonna happen but, it’ll all be fun. Looking forward to it.
THE MULE: Alright, man. Thank you so much.
MARK: Alright, Darren. Thank you. We’ll see you on the thirteenth.
50 SUMMERS OF LOVE
Mark Lindsay and Micky Dolenz, along with the Fab Four: The Ultimate Tribute brings the 50 SUMMERS OF LOVE show to the stage of the Family Arena in Saint Charles, Missouri on Friday, October 13th for what promises to be a fun time for the entire family. For ticket information and additional tour dates, visit the tour’s Facebook page.