Elton John 30: To Be Continued

Having finally achieved sobriety, Elton John was determined to start the ‘90s strong. And since it was becoming the trend for artists of his stature, he got the box set treatment. To Be Continued… not only summed up his career to date on four CDs or cassettes, but precluded him from having to record another album to keep his annual chart appearances going. (The somewhat garish booklet was loaded with photos, an essay, and a joint interview with Elton and Bernie Taupin. Track info was very detailed as to who played what, even providing exact recording dates when available.)

At the time, the box was essential for offering up several songs—mostly B-sides—that would eventually be farmed out as bonus tracks when the individual albums were reissued, and are discussed there. That said, it still tells a full story, starting with “Come Back Baby”, a mildly melodramatic number sung by an 18-year-old Reg Dwight with the Bluesology combo. From there it’s a pretty comprehensive survey of the next 25 years, at roughly eight years per disc, except for the second, which covers 1972 to 1974. Oddly, Tumbleweed Connection is given short shrift; we would have picked “Amoreena” or “Where To Now St. Peter” over “All The Girls Love Alice”. Among the standouts in the rare stuff is a demo of “Your Song” that shows the song practically fully formed. “Step Into Christmas” gains a spot in context, and the run of “One Day At A Time” through “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” to the live “I Saw Her Standing There” gives John Lennon a spotlight. (“Empty Garden” also appears later in the set, as does an hideous “cover” of “Give Peace A Chance” with silly voices sung over part of the track for “I Don’t Wanna Go On With You Like That”.) An excellent “I Feel Like A Bullet (In The Gun Of Robert Ford)” comes from a series of concerts with only Ray Cooper accompanying him on percussion. The brief “Cartier” is basically an advertising jingle, while “Donner Pour Donner” is a bilingual collaboration with French singer France Gall. “Carla Etude” is an outtake from Live In Australia, and some of the later songs appear in single or dance mixes.

To further entice collectors, To Be Continued… ends with four newly recorded songs, produced by Don Was. “I Swear I Heard the Night Talking” and “Easier To Walk Away” are fairly generic, but “Made For Me” is just plain embarrassing, musically and lyrically (“If I couldn’t see you naked/Oh, I might as well be blind”?) “You Gotta Love Someone” is a better use of Bernie’s list-writing technique, but only slightly. If these songs were supposed to be the springboard for a full album, it’s best that he pulled the plug. To be fair, it’s not the only box set in history that runs out of steam on the last disc.

Elton John To Be Continued… (1990)—3½

Pink Floyd 22: 8-Tracks

The 8-track tape music format dominated the industry for a few decades. These bulky plastic cartridges split an album’s program into four stereo segments, but they didn’t always match the vinyl sequence, or even the sides. In order to cut down on excess silence and conserve actual tape, songs were often shuffled, many times in baffling combinations. From time to time a rare mix would sneak through, but for the most part, the 8-track’s appeal was more from convenience and mobility than pristine fidelity: cars had players, and portable players were available in a variety of designs. By comparison, the cassette’s smaller size was that much more fragile, and the thin tape could threaten to unwind and stretch if you weren’t careful. Even those took liberties with album sequencing, but that’s not important right now. Eventually people decided it was a lot easier to dub albums and songs from the radio onto a cassette, which was just one of the factors that helped hasten 8-track’s demise.

Like most kings of the high school parking lot, Pink Floyd sold a lot of albums on 8-track, and a new compilation of favorites that likely got a lot of play in that format appeared for no real reason, on the heels of the 50th anniversary of Wish You Were Here and its various expansions. Despite the hyphen, 8-Tracks offered exactly that: eight tracks from the ‘70s sequenced and mixed by Steven Wilson, and something of a mutant cousin of A Collection Of Great Dance Songs.

Like that album, it begins with “One Of These Days”, only this time the wind fades into “Wots… Uh The Deal”—a wonderful song, to be sure, but not the most expected choice for a “hits” album. That’s soon taken over by the coins and cash register of “Money”, this time the original track and not the rerecorded version. “Another Brick In The Wall, Part 2” is also the extended single mix, with the extra bars at the top and with the schoolmaster’s ranting over the end. “Wish You Were Here” begins from the tuned radio, and its wind at the end turns into the ticking clocks of “Time”. The “Breathe” reprise conveniently ends on the same chord that opens “Comfortably Numb”, and that fades into the sheep sounds to preface “Pigs On The Wing”.

And that right there would seem to be the big deal of this album, from the title to the concept. This is the version of the song that appeared on the 8-track version of Animals—both verses, separated by solo played by auxiliary touring guitarist Snowy White. Why this did not appear in 2018 on that album’s sonic and visual overhaul made no sense, but here it is now. Beyond that, everybody who cares already knows these songs, and might even be tired of them.

Pink Floyd 8-Tracks (2026)—3

Paul Westerberg 5: Come Feel Me Tremble and Dead Man Shake

A year after his double-whammy bipolar Stereo and Mono albums, Paul Westerberg stuck with the formula with two more albums that equally indulged his desires to rock and wallow. Once again he played everything himself, and he’d gotten rather adept at recording in his basement.

Come Feel Me Tremble may have gotten more attention, seeing as that was also the title of a documentary—mostly gathered from camcorder footage—about his tour promoting the last album, usually with a cigar in his mouth. While some of the songs appear here, this is not a soundtrack album. It’s still full of catchy hooks, but the vocals are usually buried, so it’s not easy to hear if anything should be considered profound.

To wit, “Dirty Diesel” rumbles along with a riff one chords except when it switches to a second, and eventually fades away. Titles like “Soldier Of Misfortune” and “What A Day (For A Night)” portend Westerbergian wordplay, but we can’t understand most of the verses. The vaudevilley verses of “Knockin’ Em Back” sit strangely next to the punkier verses, “Wild & Lethal” has some unexpected chord changes and wailing harmonica for five minutes, and “Never Felt Like This Before” is a tender piano sketch that stops after a minute. Two versions of “Crackle & Drag” back to back not only finally provide marked contrast between loud and soft, but it’s only the more acoustic version that cause us to dig into the lyrics, which address Sylvia Plath’s suicide. By the same token, the subject of “Pine Box” would appear to be his father, but that’s only a guess. “Meet Me Down The Alley” tries for the yearning of “Here Comes A Regular”, and he takes a stab at Jackson Browne’s perennial “These Days”; Gregg Allman needn’t have worried.

That’s a mild tie-in to the content of the album credited to Grandpaboy that came out the same day on the Fat Possum label, the subsidiary of Epitaph devoted to aging bluesmen. Dead Man Shake isn’t really blues per se, but is actually rather convincing. Covers are scattered throughout; “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” is older than he is, while Jimmy Reed’s “Take Out Some Insurance” first came out the year he was born. “Souvenirs” is from John Prine’s second album, but nobody expected Anthony Newley’s “What Kind Of Fool Am I?” Of his own tunes, “Vampires & Failures”, “Get A Move On”, and even the title track might has well have been on the “other” album, “Mpls” and “Cleaning House” sound more like the stuff Slim Dunlap would do, while “No Matter What You Say” is more smokey and descends into parody.

While he’s certainly capable as a one-man band, and such economy may have helped his bottom line, it didn’t do much for enriching his catalog. If you’re gonna put out two albums at once, make them different if they’re not stellar top to bottom. Better yet, form a band.

Paul Westerberg Come Feel Me Tremble (2003)—2½
Grandpaboy Dead Man Shake (2003)—2½

Guided By Voices 3: Sandbox

Clearly determined to keep making records even if nobody bought them, Guided By Voices released their second album in the space of a calendar year. Another dozen songs totaling less than a half-hour, Sandbox was recorded with the established rhythm section of Mitch Mitchell (not that one) and Kevin Fennell, with Robert Pollard’s brother Jim and their coproducer adding some guitar.

“Lips Of Steel” and “A Visit To The Creep Doctor” might as well be two halves of the same song, with solid power chords and partially buried vocals. “Everyday” still has some R.E.M. jangle, but with mildly out-of-tune guitars; while the message is muddled, he knew it needed a hook for a chorus. While all one performance with no editing, “Barricade” is alternated between fast and slow sections, one of which culminates in a repeated quote from the Beatles’ “Little Child”. “Get To Know The Ropes” is a martial dirge with self-harmonies and a repeat of the “ladies and gentlemen” introduction already heard on “Lips Of Steel”. There’s even a fake fade.

He learned to kick off sides with a rocker, and “Can’t Stop” is that, with dynamic shifts; it’s almost a love song. He gets mildly political on “The Drinking Jim Crow”, but you have to listen really closely to hear him call America “a nasty little nation”. “Trap Soul Door” is very interesting, as it’s so brief, but has his hallmark of a simple soloing guitar over droning bass lines. “Common Rebels” begins with alternating guitars in each speaker, but improves when it turns into a Who pastiche. “Long Distance Man” is a solo acoustic one with layered harmonies; straightforward but over quick, whereas “I Certainly Hope Not” straddles a jerky verse with a more power-pop chorus. While “Adverse Wind” has some melodic moments, it’s still a little jumbled and clattery.

Being recorded in an eight-track garage studio, Sandbox doesn’t have the lo-fi experimentation that would one day define the band, but Pollard is still experimenting with the form. He also hasn’t quite developed his voice—yet. It’s harmless, with no real clunkers, if not very memorable.

Guided By Voices Sandbox (1987)—3

Neil Young 75: As Time Explodes

Clearly excited by his latest band of older and newer friends, Neil Young took the Chrome Hearts on a “world tour” in the months before he turned 80, playing dates in Europe and the U.S. A live album followed, appearing first as a Record Store Day vinyl release, then given more widespread distribution on CD and via streaming about six weeks later.

What sets As Time Explodes apart from his other timely tour souvenir live albums is of course the song selection. “Daddy Went Walkin’” and “Looking Forward” from the late ‘90s and “Harvest Moon” have gentle accompaniment, while the louder “Ohio” is appropriately ragged. The more obscure “Name Of Love” is driven by his pump organ, and given a better treatment than its original, just as “Be The Rain” is about half the length of other versions. Current events inspired many of the song choices on the tour, as well as the new rant “Big Crime”. “Long Walk Home” is resurrected after almost forty years, with revised lyrics and widely missed notes, though “Vampire Blues” has been a regular since he first took up with Promise Of The Real. From there it’s some familiar warhorses: “Cortez The Killer” runs almost fifteen minutes, colored nicely by Spooner Oldham’s organ, but is most notable for the appearance of its long-missing final verses. “After The Gold Rush” now has Mother Nature on the run on in the 21st century. “Like A Hurricane” goes for almost eleven minutes, with the band doing their best Crazy Horse while also giving Neil room to stretch the dynamics. Finally, he tells the story of writing “Silver Eagle”, which gets a little more twang from guitarist Micah Nelson.

Considering the thirty-odd other songs from the thirty-odd shows on the tour, why he picked these particular selections and performances is known only to him. As Time Explodes is a perfectly serviceable live album in a catalog full of many others that are better just because they are.

Neil Young & The Chrome Hearts As Time Explodes (2026)—3

Queen 14: A Kind Of Magic

The Live Aid concerts in July 1985 were a big deal, and of all the artists given twenty minutes to strut their stuff onstage, Queen pretty much stole both shows. The history leading up to this occasion has been muddled by the major dramatic license taken by the Bohemian Rhapsody biopic, but the fact remains that—overseas anyway—the band was still quite popular. They chose to capitalize on this momentum with a new album that partially tied into another major motion picture.

So given that they’d re-established themselves as rock royalty, and Freddie Mercury had gotten his pop preferences out of the way with his solo album (which, despite what the movie said, did not threaten to break up the band), you’d think that A Kind Of Magic would kick butt, right?

Well, it didn’t. The cartoon artwork throughout looked like they were hoping to ride the coattails of the Stones’ “Harlem Shuffle” video, and there was just the barest tie-in to the Highlander film with a single line on the back cover. The whole thing was just plain garish, even for them, and considering the year in which it appeared.

“One Vision” would have been better served had they started with those classic Brian May chords then the mysterious-sounding intro that kills a full minute. It’s not a bad tune, even with the “fried chicken” joke at the end. The title track continues the “one” theme in the lyrics, and is pretty harmless, especially compared to the rest of the album, starting with “One Year Of Love”. This is execrable adult contemporary, right in line with other hits of the time, complete with the same saxophone player from “Careless Whisper” and strings played first on synthesizer and then on real instruments. “Pain Is So Close To Pleasure” is dominated by Freddie’s unflattering falsetto throughout; he might have been going for Motown, but it sounds more like the worst parts of Hot Space. Brian remembered he played guitar in time for “Friends Will Be Friends”, another attempt at a grand singalong, forgetting that they’d only ended up combining and diluting “You’re My Best Friend” and “Somebody To Love”. (John Deacon had a hand in the last three, so maybe he was having a tough year.)

Side two is most closely connected with the movie, which would only be obvious to those who’d seen it. “Who Wants To Live Forever” has another orchestra for extra pomp, and the song only works once the drums come in. After several seconds of Brian trying to out-hammer Eddie Van Halen, “Gimme The Prize” is helpfully titled “Kurgan’s Theme” after the villain, and his voice can be heard quoting Def Leppard’s “Rock Of Ages” in the many samples heard among the heavy metal tropes. Roger Taylor is responsible for “Don’t Lose Your Head”; apparently he was content to program a drum machine, and somebody roped in Joan Armatrading to intone the title a few times. “Princes Of The Universe” ends a mostly loud album with a lot of bombast, but nothing really original.

As a soundtrack, A Kind Of Magic is no better than Flash Gordon, and as a Queen album, it’s a disappointment. Yet somehow the album has since made it to rank on several classic albums lists. The original CD had extras in the form of extended mixes of “A Kind Of Magic” and “Friends Will Be Friends”, as well as a solo piano instrumental of “Who Wants To Live Forever”. The 1991 CD added only that last track, plus an extended mix of “One Vision”. Two decades later, the third version added “Forever” and the extended “Friends”, the movie mix of “A Kind Of Magic”, single mixes of “Pain Is Close To Pleasure” and “One Vision”, plus a demo of the latter and a live version from their 1986 concerts at Wembley.

Coming a year after Live Aid, those shows were a big deal in the UK, where they were celebrated at year’s end with Live Magic, most of which came from the tour finale at Knebworth. Unfortunately, several songs were edited—badly, in the case of “Bohemian Rhapsody”, since the Galileo section came from the record anyway—so all could fit on a single LP. It didn’t come out on the US for another ten years, by which time Live At Wembley ’86 had already become the standard celebration of their triumphant return to the scene of Live Aid. It’s a full two hours, complete with their “ay-yo” jam, Brian’s nine-minute solo off “Brighton Rock”, an oldies medley, and starting the encore with “Big Spender”. Ten years later it was repackaged and retitled, with bonus tracks from other shows, including the Hungarian folk song Freddie performed in Budapest. (Some of that show was already excerpted on Live Magic, and the whole thing was commemorated on VHS and laserdisc in the UK and Japan in 1987. The full performance was released on CD 25 years later as Hungarian Rhapsody.)

Queen A Kind Of Magic (1986)—2
1986 CD: same as 1986, plus 3 extra tracks
1991 Hollywood reissue: same as 1986, plus 2 extra tracks
2011 remaster: same as 1986, plus 7 extra tracks
Queen Live Magic (1986)—3
Queen Live At Wembley ’86 (1992)—3½
2003 Live At Wembley Stadium: same as 1992, plus 4 extra tracks

Bill Wyman 3: Bill Wyman

Twenty years with the Stones meant a lot of sitting around for Bill Wyman, and although they were never going to use any of his songs for their semiannual albums, he kept recording anyway. Mostly this meant playing around with synthesizers, with a rotating group of friends who tended to work at Jimmy Page’s studio in Berkshire. Some of this experimentation was used on the soundtrack of the little-seen film Green Ice. Then somehow, the summer before Tattoo You was released and the subsequent tour happened, he had a mild hit with “(Si Si) Je Suis Un Rock Star”, a novelty song in fractured French with a truly cheesy synth part to match his weedy voice.

While it got somewhat regular MTV play when it was current, it wasn’t enough of a hit for the accompanying album to be released in America. It’s tough to say whether it would have made a dent. His voice does seem better matched to the robotic arrangements of “A New Fashion” and “Nuclear Reactions”. “Jump Up” attempts to create a new dance craze and fails, and we’re not sure how we’re supposed to relate to the weary jetsetter in “Rio De Janiero”. “Come Back Suzanne” was his other mild hit single of the period, with an even goofier video to match; it sounds like a real rhythm section too. “Ride On Baby” isn’t the Stones leftover from the Aftermath sessions, but his son helped write it. It has a lot of guitar from Brian Setzer, while Chris Rea provides the lead on the dreamy “Visions”. Knowing what we know now about his, shall we say, proclivities, “Seventeen” and “Girls” are a little cringey, though he might be trying to ape Mick on the latter.

While Bill Wyman isn’t as dull as his other two solo albums, it’s only of interest to Stones completists. They would naturally go for any of the reissues, which include four single edits as well as demos of the two hits.

Bill Wyman Bill Wyman (1982)—2½
2006 Bill Wyman Solo Collection Edition: same as 1982, plus 4 extra tracks