Kiss 16: Lick It Up

After nearly a decade in the business, Kiss had to do something, since their albums weren’t automatic sellers. So they decided it was time to finally ditch the makeup that had been their most distinctive trademark. In keeping with the times, their barefaced look was unveiled via the video for the title track of the new album. Those of us who hadn’t been keeping up with the lineup were surprised that Ace was as ugly as he looked; it turned out that wasn’t Ace but new lead guitarist Vinnie Vincent (née Cusano), who’d only had to wear the “ankh” design on his face for a mercifully short time.

Lick It Up was even more back-to-basics musically, as the songwriting credits were restricted to the four band members, and Vincent prominently. Vocals were evenly split between Paul and Gene, and nearly every song has a unique riff.

“Exciter” leaps out of the speakers with a more modern rhythm than their sludgier moments of the past, but still tight. Speaking of sludge, Gene’s voice is pretty muddy on the marauding “Not For The Innocent”. In context, the still-misogynistic title track sounds pretty tame, particularly when Gene comes back to yell his way through “Young And Wasted” against the jackhammer rhythm. “Gimme More” is more Stanley-by-numbers, as prescribed.

“All Hell’s Breakin’ Loose” opens with another riff kids would be trying to figure out next to their stereos, but is nearly spoiled by Paul’s not-quite-rapped vocal on the verses. “A Million To One” is the first you-done-me-wrong love-lost song, though Paul doesn’t quite connect the hook with the message. But that’s okay, because Gene is back to flex his manhood on “Fits Like A Glove” and threaten some “bitch” (his word, not ours) on “Dance All Over Your Face”. And after an intro that’s a pretty good imitation of Quadrophenia, they assure us in “And On The 8th Day” that “God created rock ‘n roll.”

With Lick It Up Kiss became just another hard ‘n heavy rock band. Helped along by the rise of hair metal in the ‘80s, they kept selling albums while cycling through one lead guitarist after another. Their brand remains as strong today as ever, just as their fans—who have since spawned generations of diehard converts—have remained loyal.

Kiss Lick It Up (1983)—3

Todd Rundgren 32: Johnson

While Todd Rundgren professes to have a blues background, like most white American kids in the ‘60s, he found out about Robert Johnson via the British blues players who revered him. Supposedly when the label who distributed his last album got a hold of some of the rights to Johnson’s music, they strongly suggested Todd cover them. Never one to shy away from a dare, he did, resulting in the embarrassingly titled Todd Rundgren’s Johnson. (It was previewed by a digital EP called Todd Rundgren’s Short Johnson.)

If you want to hear Todd wail on the guitar, this is the album for you. Keep in mind you’ll also have to hear him sing the tunes, and not very convincingly. Naturally he played all the instruments—save Kasim Sulton on bass—which means there are lots of boomy drums, which worked on Arena, but just sound bloated here. While the opening “Dust My Broom” isn’t bad, even though it doesn’t use the patented riff, the rest simply wear out the novelty. Some of the more familiar songs already exist in definitive remakes by the Stones, Zeppelin, and yes, the Blues Brothers. Eric Clapton himself waited forty years before tackling this material in bulk, and even the Red Hot Chili Peppers knew “They’re Red Hot” was supposed to be fun. The cover art wasn’t much better; when the album was re-released eleven years later it used a more attractive albeit anachronistic image, and wisely changed the title to just Johnson.

The album wasn’t a complete surprise to Todd lifers, as he’d played many of them on tour a year before, but with the reliable Prairie Prince and Jesse Gress joining Sulton in the band. One of the shows was recorded and filmed before a devout audience and eventually released as Todd Rundgren’s Johnson Live in a CD/DVD package. The Johnson renditions aren’t much better than what made the album, but hearing an actual drummer interplay with the other members (sorry) is certainly preferable. The bonus is that the setlist includes guitar-focused originals from his own career, including “Kiddie Boy” from the second Nazz album, “Bleeding” from his second solo album, and even “I Saw The Light”. (The DVD, which we haven’t viewed, added more Rundgren originals.)

Todd Rundgren Todd Rundgren’s Johnson (2011)—2
Todd Rundgren Todd Rundgren’s Johnson Live (2013)—2½

CSN 14: Live At Fillmore East

The big question wasn’t so much why this came out when it did as what took them so long. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young had been playing gigs for only a few months when they did a stint at New York’s Fillmore East. (Ten days after these shows, Crosby’s live-in girlfriend would be dead in a car accident, just as they began recording what would become Déjà Vu.)

For decades, 4 Way Street was the only comprehensive live document, captured just as they were starting to fray and splinter. Culled from the two shows on the second night of the stand, Live At Fillmore East is structured the same way, but goes back to the beginning, with the original rhythm section of Dallas Taylor and Greg Reeves still on board.

The debut album was still new at these shows, and the joy of singing “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” is as fresh as their excitement over what they could do with the Beatles’ “Blackbird”. They can’t help but giggle their way through “Helplessly Hoping”, but calm down a bit for “Guinnevere”. “Lady Of The Island” nicely highlights the Crosby-Nash blend, then Stephen previews “Go Back Home” and “4+20”, with Neil coming out for “On The Way Home” in between. (Only Stephen knows the words, as the other two haven’t figured out what to add yet.) Graham plays “Our House” at the organ—you can just hear the slightest high-hat in the back—and it’s cute, but a little jarring. A few people in the crowd recognize “I’ve Loved Her So Long”, and Graham adds a nice part before they all join in on “You Don’t Have To Cry”.

The wooden portion over, it’s time to rock. “Long Time Gone” and “Wooden Ships” are duly played with Neil and Stephen goading each other. After a drop in volume, “Bluebird Revisited” is a nice surprise from a 55-year perspective. “Sea Of Madness” should be familiar from its strange appearance on the Woodstock 2 compilation, and “Down By The River” runs over 16 minutes, in an initially more intricate version, for lack of a better word than any Crazy Horse rendition. And since you can’t end a CSNY concert without “Find The Cost Of Freedom”, that’s how the disc ends.

The album is dedicated to David Crosby, and brings the listener as well as the artists back to a time when they could still get lost in the wonder of music without too much of the egos getting in the way. In addition to hearing Graham yell “yeah!” after nearly every song, the other three each contribute paragraphs of appreciation to help drive it home. Given the potential, it’s just a shame they didn’t include both shows, complete.

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Live At Fillmore East, 1969 (2024)—3½

Mick Jagger 7: SuperHeavy

Here at Everybody’s Dummy we like to think we’re at least up to date on the musical activities of artists we’ve reviewed in bulk. That’s no excuse for why we remain oblivious to so, so many other things, but somehow this alleged supergroup featuring Mick Jagger completely passed us by. Hands up if you’d heard of—much less heard—SuperHeavy before reading this paragraph. Okay, good to know.

The project may have descended from Mick’s soundtrack to the Alfie remake, which was a collaboration with the mildly parasitic David A. Stewart and featured contributions from British belter Joss Stone. This odd trio got together a few years later with Damian “Jr. Gong” Marley (Bob’s youngest acknowledged offspring) and composer A.R. Rahman, probably most famous for the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack. The result was an album that mixed trip-hop with Jamaican and Indian influences, which the Los Angeles Times came just short of calling a “cross-cultural trainwreck.” (Rolling Stone loved it, of course.)

We don’t want to begrudge Mick trying to stretch, but reggae was always Keith’s territory. Wisely, he lets Damian rattle off the high-speed toasting, and Joss does most of the overemoting. But he himself is mostly reduced to yelling melodically instead of singing, as displayed on “One Day One Night”. “Energy” certainly displays some Stonesy grit once you get past the synths, but “I Can’t Take It No More” is another socio-political rant from one of the world’s richest men, and a knight to boot, mostly notable for Joss’s opening f-bomb. (She’s more suited to the humanist plea of “World Keeps Turning”, if you like that sort of thing.) “Never Gonna Change” is a country-gospel near-weeper sung all by himself, and he sure gets into enunciating the Sanskrit of “Satyameva Jayathe”.

Those who have to have more would spring for the deluxe edition, which boasts four extra tracks. But overall, SuperHeavy is neither super nor heavy, and that’s probably why they haven’t been heard from since.

SuperHeavy SuperHeavy (2011)—2

Graham Nash 10: Now

While he hadn’t suddenly scaled a prolific streak comparable to that of erstwhile partner David Crosby, it was something of a surprise to get a new Graham Nash within ten years of the last one. Now finds him in his eighties, supported by his stalwart touring band, with a state-of-the-Graham address that’s immediately engaging.

His subject matter has barely mutated since 1970—you know, love and politics, not that we’d expect anything different—so there are no bonus points for guessing what “Stars And Stripes”, “Love Of Mine”, or “Follow Your Heart” address. Still, “Right Now” and “Golden Idols” have a spark and tension that have been missing since the Crosby-Nash albums with The Section backing them up, while “A Better Life” and “It Feels Like Home” are more country-tinged sentiments. “Stand Up” loads on some tasty guitars for a fairly pedestrian message, and then there’s “Buddy’s Back”, a reverie in the style of Buddy Holly sung with Hollies mate Allan Clarke. A string quartet provides “Theme From Pastoral”, one of Alan Price’s pieces for the cult film O Lucky Man!, and they continue on the sentimental “In A Dream”, but its use on “I Watched It All Come Down” seems odd, given that it addresses his feelings about the collapse of CSN. It’s followed by the closing piano ballad of “When It Comes To You”.

Now isn’t earth-shaking, but he still sounds good. With the exception of Allan Clarke on that one song, all the vocals are his, and he harmonizes well with himself.

Graham Nash Now (2023)—3

Stephen Stills 16: Live At Berkeley

Following the release of his second solo album, Stephen Stills embarked on an ambitious tour that he hoped would not only encompass his musical palate, but further establish him as a singular force with which to be reckoned. Along with four guys who would continue with him in Manassas, another guitarist plus a sax player and the five Memphis Horns filled out the sound even more. Reports say he booked 52 dates, and even he says he handled the pressure of his setlists by getting good and drunk before every show.

Luckily for us, the performances picked from the final two shows on Live At Berkeley 1971 aren’t embarrassing in the least. It also helps that these were theater shows, more intimate and forgiving than the hockey arenas played earlier on the tour. He begins acoustically, where he’s accompanied by Steve Fromholz on guitar and vocals. Proof that CSN wasn’t dead in the water, David Crosby is brought out for “You Don’t Have To Cry” (Fromholz filling in well) and his own “The Lee Shore”. He moves to the piano for a very nice “Sugar Babe” and the now-familiar “49 Bye-Byes/America’s Children” medley, and straps on a banjo for “Know You Got To Run”. The full band comes on for “Bluebird Revisited”, which burns pretty slow compared to Wayne Jackson’s “Lean On Me”. “Cherokee” runs almost ten minutes, plenty of time for the band to cook.

The sound throughout is clear and warm. Considering that it captures a moment in his career before things changed and would change again, this set goes a long way to remind us how good Stills could be when he got out of his own way and just played. One does wonder what they left out.

Stephen Stills Live At Berkeley 1971 (2023)—3½

Peter Gabriel 15: i/o

And you thought ten years was a long wait between Peter Gabriel albums! Not long after Up finally appeared, he said he was already working on a follow-up. There began years of speculation and waiting that turned into decades. It wasn’t until early 2023 that, he finally started releasing music that he said would constitute the long-promised i/o, with a tour to match. At the turn of every full moon, a new song would be released via streaming in a variety of “Bright-Side” and “Dark-Side” mixes, while further variations on each were made available to members of his official Full Moon Club. This was a uniquely modern way to release new music that led us old folks to wonder if an album would ever exist in format like we used to know.

As it turned out, and in a demonstration of his pathological indecisiveness, the album did finally appear at the year’s end, in a CD package that included a disc of the songs in each mix. (Each mix was also released in separate vinyl packages, while a Blu-ray offered both mixes plus the “In-Side” Dolby Atmos mix. Or you could get a box set with everything.) All of this was a lot for anyone not the artist to get his or her head around, especially when it came down to the real meat of the issue: the songs themselves.

“Panopticom” has the rare distinction of beginning a Peter Gabriel at volume, rather than mysteriously emerging from silence. It’s set apart by its repeating motif, with a prominent acoustic guitar, even its ideal of a global data resource that becomes more ominous with every passing week. “The Court” addresses the idea of justice, and he makes some interesting rhymes, even if they recall those of “Steam”; the coda is the highlight of the song. “Playing For Time” takes the volume down to just piano and orchestra for the most part, not far removed from “That’ll Do”—an intentional move, so he says, and it’s quite nice. The title track follows on quietly at first, ruminating on connection, getting more energy in the choruses. A collaboration with producer Richard Russell, “Four Kinds Of Horses” is very dark, particularly in its Dark-Side incarnation, a strong contrast to “Road To Joy”, which bubbles along its groove until the abrupt end complete with sound effects (no spoilers here).

“So Much” is a quiet reflection on aging, with a few wince-inducing metaphors, but still heartfelt. We’re still on the fence about “Olive Tree”; no matter the mix, the cheesy horns over the choruses distract from the mood of the verses. Despite its somber tone, underscored by the cello, “Love Can Heal” is a plea of hope, inspired by an assassination, whereas “This Is Home” finds comfort on a more personal level. “And Still” is the longest song on an album already full of contenders. It’s rather unsettling as it progresses, but another cello solo helps raise it out of the murk. (People forget that he’s played the piano for much of his solo career—well, we do, anyway—and it’s rather adept here.) Another grand plea for peace rounds off the album. Building steadily from a seed to a big sound, “Live And Let Live” is a nice idea, of course, but the ears that need to hear it won’t. Maybe if it didn’t take so long to make its point. (The Dark-Side mix adds a whole 25 seconds to the album.)

Even with all that tinkering, there are no timeless classics to be found within any version of i/o. There’s a lot of sameness throughout, both within the album and in echoes of his earlier albums. We find ourselves going back to the quieter, beat-less songs, in either mix, as they seem less derivative of things we’ve heard before. Among the two dozen musicians, core contributors David Rhodes, Tony Levin, and Manu Katché make their mark, so it’s nice to concentrate on them, while Brian Eno contributes to six tracks. It is a simply pleasant album when you’ve got an hour or so to kill. At this rate, we don’t expect he will follow it up with anything remotely major.

Peter Gabriel i/o (2023)—3