Pandamonium - The Unreleased Album (Psych-Pop 1970)

"To serious record collectors the name 'Pandamonium' means several highly collectable singles issued by CBS in the '60s. The band, which started life in 1963/64 as the Pandas, consisted of the song writing team of Bob Ponton and Martin Curtis with the support of fellow men of Kent Mick Glass and Steve Chapman (who later played drums for Al Stewart and Poco). After signing to CBS in 1966, the band enjoyed underground success with a superb cover of Donovan Leitch's 'Season Of The Witch' (CBS 202462), which curiously enough pre-dated the folk singer's own version of the song, later to appear on the Sunshine Superman album, by some months. The cult success of 'Season Of The Witch' was followed by what many consider to be their finest single, 'No Presents For Me' (CBS 2664), a track which was pure psychedelic beat and featured some extremely effective backwards fuzz guitar. One further single followed on the CBS label (Chocolate Buster Dam/Fly With Me Forever - CBS 3451), but a disagreement with the label led to the group's departure and subsequent dissolution. This is a great British psych/pop album with some superb songs and instrumentation that reflects the status of the participants and it somewhat baf fling that an album of this stature has remained unreleased for so long. However, after a 30-year wait, Radioactive is proud to make this extremely important recording available for the first time."

Personnel:
STEVE CHAPMAN
MARTIN CURTIS
MICK GLASS
BOB PANTON vcls, gtr A


45s:
1 Season Of The Witch/Today I'm Happy (CBS 202462) 1967
2 No Presents For Me/Sun Shines From His Eyes (CBS 2664) 1967
3 Chocolate Buster Dam/Fly With Me Forever (CBS 3451) 1968


All three singles are now rare and sought-after. Season Of The Witch was a Donovan song. Their best is generally considered to be No Presents For Me, which is notable for some effective backwards guitar work and distortion.

01. I Know You - 3.17
02. It¥s A Long Time - 3.14
03. I Am What I Am - 3.53
04. Sunrise - 4.10
05. If I Could Be With You - 2.15
06. Sit And Watch The Sunshine - 3.10
07. Baby I'll Be Yours - 3.51
08. Send Out A Smile - 3.03
09. Who Knows What We May Find - 3.14
10. Waiting For The Summer - 2.30
11. I Believe In You - 3.56

Post by ChrisGoesRock

Bauhaus - Gotham (Live Goth Rock 1999)

As the crowd shuffles in, the various freaks and weirdos who lovingly come out for their favorite band turn to the camera man and make comments about the long-awaited reunion of the grandfathers of goth rock. One by one, fans describe how they never thought it would happen -- how it seemed near impossible. Many of the fans are barely as old as Bauhaus' first single, if not younger. And as the cameras find their way into New York City's Hammerstein Ballroom, the big question is how Bauhaus can live up to their legendary status without seeming too pretentious about their approach. The lights go out, the stage is illuminated with bizarre spotlights, and then a video screen of Peter Murphy's head appears as the throbbing strains of "Double Dare" kick in. And for the entirety of the song, Murphy's gaunt face looms over the crowd as he moans the lyrics like the ghost of a band long disappeared. "I dare you to be real," he gasps to the audience, "to touch a flickering flame!" And the crowd goes out of their minds for it, giving the video as much electricity and manic energy as a recorded live performance can. When Murphy gets on-stage after the opening number, the camera pans around to show the oddly youthful crowd losing their minds for the true Thin White Duke. Murphy obviously still looks up to David Bowie, as he looks much like the Let's Dance incarnation of the famed musical chameleon, except slightly more vampiric. The rest of the band looks all the world like actual rock stars, dressed up somewhere between CIA agents and the New York Dolls. Their thrashing and jumping around is a nice contrast to the stoic approach of their frontman, proving that the years in Love and Rockets added a lot of valuable lessons in stage presence. What is striking about their performance here isn't so much that they can still play the songs; everyone from the Sex Pistols to Black Sabbath have reunited and at least remembered the hits. What Bauhaus manages to do is add a sharp, charismatic edge to the material that is rarely present in goth music. They were never truly a goth band; despite their status as such, they were always more like the natural extension of British punk music. And here they come off like a band 20 years younger and still hungry, like they still have something to prove after all this time. The interview segments in between tracks are interesting, if only because of the obvious enthusiasm they still have for the material (and Murphy's healthy ego). And the occasional jumbled sound manages to make the show come across as an actual live performance, foregoing the usual polished overdubs with a gloriously raw mix. Sounding great and looking enthused, Bauhaus manages to deliver an exciting live package and a wonderful reward to longtime fans who might have been hesitant about their abilities. Gotham is goth rock 101 for anyone wondering how to do it right; the ideas presented here are old and still seem fresh.

AMG Review by Bradley Torreano

Kevin Ayers - June 1st, 1974 (Live)

It isn't just that the four credited lead players are together, it's also that Robert Wyatt and (if one is excited by such a thing) Mike Oldfield are helping out as well. The whole result should have been a mind-blowing example of one moment of twisted brilliance after another, captured for the ages. And is it? Well, close enough. The week's rehearsal mentioned in the liner notes seems to have gotten everyone more or less on the same wavelength for the chosen songs, but Ayers, who was the headliner, just sounded too laid-back in the end to match the chilling brilliance of his guests, even with old Soft Machine mate Wyatt along for the ride. The first half of the album is the real winner as a result, not least for the sharp song choices. Eno's two selections are inspired; "Driving Me Backwards" gets even more freaked out than the studio version, turning into a lacerating death crawl thanks to Cale's violin, while "Baby's on Fire" in contrast almost turns friendlier at the end. Both Cale and Nico make strong marks with two of their most notable and notorious cover versions. The former's "Heartbreak Hotel" keeps much of the spaced-out paranoia familiar from the studio cut, just ominous enough. Meanwhile, Nico's take on "The End" easily equals her own studio take, the song creeping with dread and fear. Ayers' selections take up the remainder of the album and they're, well, nice. But after the earlier shadows and psychosis, there's a little too much guitar mellowness and bongwater lounge grooves in contrast, aside from a wonderful, dramatic take on "Two Goes into Four." His between-song asides are fun, though, while his voice is in fine shape, even if the French part on "May I?" just makes him sound like a dirty old man instead of Serge Gainsbourg.

AMG Review by Ned Raggett

Ultravox - Rage in Eden (New Wave 1981)

Following on from the success of Vienna, Ultravox cemented their position as a New Romantic phenomenon with their follow-up, 1981's Rage in Eden. The martial beats and political undertones of "The Thin Wall" single acted as a potent taster for the album, to be joined in the U.K. Top 20 by the even more powerful message of "The Voice." The latter song opened the album, but nothing that followed equaled its strength, its sequencing a flaw in an otherwise excellent set. That said, propulsive numbers like "We Stand Alone" and "I Remember (Death in the Afternoon)," the rebellious angst of "Accent on Youth," the exotic strains of "Stranger Within," and the haunting "Your Name Has Slipped My Mind Again" all contained their own power. And even if the instrumental "The Ascent" harkened back to "Vienna," it was obvious that with Eden, Ultravox was climbing to grand new heights.

AMG Review by Dave Thompson

Ultravox - Quartet (New Wave 1982)

With the successes of Vienna and its follow-up, Rage in Eden, Ultravox's position in the music scene was unassailable, further fortified by frontman Midge Ure's foray into solo-dom with the summer 1982 hit cover of the Walker Brothers' "No Regrets." The band's "Reap the Wild Wind" followed it up the U.K. chart that fall, a taster for the band's sixth album. And what a portentous taste it was. While "Wind" buffeted and whooshed once again around nostalgia for a past never lived, "Hymn" (its melody lifted from "Mourning Star" by Ure's last band, the Zones) wrestled with faith in a faithless age and prayed its way up the chart later that fall, while the dirge "Visions in Blue" saw the spring caught in its icy grip. But it was the fourth song spun off the album, "We Came to Dance," that best defined the overall themes of the set. Having helped create a movement renowned for its fashion victims and superficiality, Ultravox recoiled from the Frankenstein they'd birthed. "The Song (We Go)" may have been a cry of welcome, but both "Dance" and "Serenade" make clear the music scene's terrifying capacity to unleash both Dionysian abandon and militaristic conformity. "When the Scream Subsides" further fuels the album's existential angst, which reaches its emotional nadir on the suicidal "Cut and Run." With their toe-tapping rhythms, billowing synths, and rousing melodies, one is often tempted to ignore the darkness of Ultravox's themes, but with Quartet, the band deliberately made that nigh on impossible.

AMG Review by Dave Thompson

Popol Vuh - Hosianna Mantra (Krautrock 1972)

Florian Fricke pioneered the use of synthesizers in German rock, but by the time of Hosianna Mantra he had abandoned them (eventually selling his famous Moog to Klaus Schulze). While In den Gärten Pharaos had blended synths with piano and African and Turkish percussion, Hosianna Mantra focuses on organic instrumentation. Conny Veit contributes electric guitar, but other than that, Fricke pulls the plug and builds the album around violin, tamboura, piano, oboe, cembalo, and Veit's 12-string, often with Korean soprano Djong Yun's haunting voice hovering above the arrangements. As the album's title suggests, Fricke conceived of Hosianna Mantra as a musical reconciliation of East and West, a harmonization of seemingly opposed terms, combining two devotional music traditions. That notion of cultural hybridity resonates throughout. On "Kyrie" droning tamboura, simple piano patterns, ethereal, gull-like guitars, and yearning oboe ebb and flow before coalescing in a passage of intensity and release. The epic title track adds another dimension to the fusion, emphasizing a Western rock sound with Veit's spectacular playing to the fore, simultaneously smoldering and liquid, occasionally yielding to Djong Yun's celestial vocals. Above all, Fricke envisioned this as sacred music, intimately linked to religious experience; however, as his musical synthesis of disparate religious traditions indicates, he was seeking to foment a spiritual experience beyond the specificity of any particular faith. Indeed, Fricke called this album a "mass for the heart" and that aspect can be heard most succinctly on the melancholy "Abschied" and the gossamer-fragile "Segnung," which blend an austere hymnal sensibility with a more mystical vibe. Julian Cope has said that Hosianna Mantra

1. Ah! - 4:46
2. Kyrie - 5:25
3. Hosianna Mantra - 10:17
4. Abschied - Departure - 3:13
5. Segnung - Blessing - 6:09
6. Andacht - Devotion I - 0:45
7. Nicht hoch im Himmel - Not high in heaven - 6:23
8. Andacht - Devotion II - 0:45

Echo and the Bunnymen - Crocodiles (Great Debut Album 1980)

Inspired by psychedelia, sure. Bit of Jim Morrison in the vocals? OK, it's there. But for all the references and connections that can be drawn (and they can), one listen to Echo's brilliant, often harrowing debut album and it's clear when a unique, special band presents itself. Beginning with the dramatic, building climb of "Going Up," Crocodiles at once showcases four individual players sure of their own gifts and their ability to bring it all together to make things more than the sum of their parts. Will Sergeant in particular is a revelation — arguably only Johnny Marr and Vini Reilly were better English guitarists from the '80s, eschewing typical guitar-wank overload showboating in favor of delicacy, shades, and inventive, unexpected melodies. More than many before or since, he plays the electric guitar as just that, electric not acoustic, dedicated to finding out what can be done with it while never using it as an excuse to bend frets. His highlights are legion, whether it's the hooky opening chime of "Rescue" or the exchanges of sound and silence in "Happy Death Men." Meanwhile, the Pattinson/De Freitas rhythm section stakes its own claim for greatness, the former's bass driving yet almost seductive, the latter's percussion constantly shifting rhythms and styles while never leaving the central beat of the song to die. "Pride" is one standout moment of many, Pattinson's high notes and De Freitas' interjections on what sound like chimes or blocks are inspired touches. Then there's McCulloch himself, and while the imagery can be cryptic, the delivery soars, even while his semi-wail conjures up, as on the nervy, edgy picture of addiction "Villiers Terrace," "People rolling round on the carpet/Mixing up the medicine." Brisk, wasting not a note, and burning with barely controlled energy, Crocodiles remains a deserved classic.

AMG Review by Ned Raggett