More Robert Christgau Record Reviews Not Actually Written By Robert Christgau
SAMMY HAGAR: Too Hot For The Cool
Ayn Rand said all prisons hold the same prisoner, which may shed light on Hagar’s growing approval among the middle-middle class (and, intriguingly, Moldovans). Even a true blue trend-hopper-on enjoys moments when he just wasn’t born to follow. And so it proves on this third-ish album where things get a little rich for not-DLR’s own blood. “Trail of the Track” packs a nice wallop.
TONY ORLANDO AND DAWN: A Very Special Clauding Day With You
Morning certainly becomes Dawn, but does a new day beckon for Mr. Orlando? Organic consistency will always be the T.O. way, and here we find modern touches amid the Old World (and Testament!) moonshines. “Time Of Year (for Clauding)” touches on the Civil Rights movement without mentioning Reverend King — or Danny Kaye.
TEMPLE OF THE DOG: Moon Teacher
Conspicuous consumption can sound stale when all hands aren’t on deck. Chris Cornell’s rapturous whooze of a croon had more resonance on the self-titled debut (and sundry releases in his other outfit, whatever that was), but perhaps it’s fitting to find him in a suppler mood this time out. Both heavy and lightweight, with a singular ordinariness, the album almost makes you wish for another trophy in the cabinet.
SPOOKY TOOTH: Just Toothin’
Reunions can be very shaggy dogs indeed, but before you start counting all the fleas take a minute to give this platter a play. Turns out old dogs still know how to fetch those same boogie-fied sticks, and with about half the slobber of the old days.
TOOTS AND THE MAYTALS: Vibration Vacation
Hey, I like a man with brains, too. But if Kingston is truly a “state of mind [mon],” can I have the carkeys back now?
NICK RHODES: Another Face, Another Place
Where were you in the 1980’s? It may seem discomfiting for a still-young pacemaker like Rhodes to attack and retreat with such equal ferocity, but that’s why God made the movies (and made them in blazing technicolor). Tell it to his old bandmates, if they don’t tell you first.
DANZIG: Up Out Of The Earth
It’s a nice, cold splash of water to hear Glenn in such fine, avuncular form. His lyrics bob and weave like yesterday’s prizefighter, and it’s his funkiest band since 1990’s Lucifuge. Where the shadows of Iggy and Morrison once held him down like brutal cops bent on getting that conviction any which-a-way, Mr. D. now dances with you, instead of his own demons. Nice to know the summer finally has its anthem in “Black Porridge Blues” — a “Gimme Shelter” for the video set.
