The 1981 Listening Post - Gerard McMahon And Kid Lightning - Blue Rue

 Reviewed by Michael O'Toole-Miyashiro

Released: 1981 Gerard McMahon And Kid Lightning Blue Rue Genre: Pop/Rock Rating: 2 out of 5 Highlights: (none) Gerard McMahon, an English-born American, spent years toiling as a singer-songwriter around the Midwest before he broke through writing for the Jerry Bruckheimer film, “Defiance” (1980). This was enough to earn him a one album deal with the Columbia Records subsidiary, ARC. He put a band together and, as a sextet, released “Blue Rue” in early 1981. I remember the album cover vaguely from when this record first came out. I was in junior high hitting the record shops (at the suburban shopping mall, it’s where my friends and I lived in the early ‘80s), and the gimmicky blue colour scheme caught my attention. Not having much money at 13, I was cautious and never took the chance on taking the album home. Over the years I caught the record in discount bins, but I never bothered to grab it. It was one of those lost records I would have never listened to until Sheffield asked me to review it for this group. Like all of us, we’d like to think that that undiscovered gem is out there, so our optimism can still surprise us. Then I listened to it … let me save you 35 minutes out of your life, this is not that gem. It’s far from the worst album I’ve heard from this period, it's clean and slickly textured (think of the Cars and their CP-30 keyboards over crunching guitars), but the songwriting just isn't there. One by one, tracks like “Night Woman,” “Town Girls,” and “Run Into Your Shadow" start with interesting riffs, but then monotonously drone on for the remainder of the tracks without a melody ever kicking in. It’s like observing the mechanical rabbit at a dog track that goes around in circles - quite revved up with nowhere to go. Also, I wasn’t expecting trenchant commentary on modern relationships, like with Joe Jackson, but McMahon’s “She’s hot and I want her” lyrical stance really needs more sonic muscle and ingenuity to have made it memorable, and this album just doesn't deliver. Finally, McMahon’s voice doesn't stand out from the mix, and his projection is unremarkable in terms of attitude. Hey, every cassette lurking in the discount barrel at Dollarama can’t always be that find. Of course, if you have 35 minutes of life to spare, feel free to listen to it … maybe I missed something.

The 1981 Listening Post - The Rings - Rhythm Method

 Reviewed by Michael O'Toole-Miyashiro

Released: 1981 The Rings Rhythm Method Genre: Power Pop Rating: 3 out of 5 Highlights: Take The Chance Move Over Love's Not Safe Power Pop fans hear the moniker of “derivative” quite often. As an unabashed fan of the genre, I’d like to dive into that “derivative” label a little. Dating back to the early ‘70s, bands like Big Star, Dwight Twilley Band and The Raspberries took the power chords of The Who, the well-conceived tempos of Small Faces, the cheeky humour of The Move and the harmonic honey of The Beach Boys to create something new. They were not being derivative for snark sake, but tried to make it something fresh and revelatory. These bands became the template for a slew of groups arriving in a post-punk wake by the late ‘70s: The Records, Plimsouls, Galaxy 500 - raising the ante with measured tension and inventive playing in a revivified Brit Invasion style. Here is where Boston’s The Rings come into the picture. Developing a following in their native New England with an audience who was ready for their assertive take on the genre; The Rings’ catchy hooks and pleading vocals were served with a rushed excitement that proudly displayed a knowing DIY aesthetic. Their eponymous titled debut from late 1980, The Rings, was a four star winner. From one hook-ridden number to the next, singer Michael Baker’s tough urgency and guitarist Mark Sutton’s ringing jangle had these sonic nuggets sticking with you long after the long player was turned off. Gems like “Third Generation,” “I Need Strange,” and their lone chart single, “Let Me Go,” were exactly what you were looking for in Power Pop - the songs danced on their own. That leads us to their second and final album for MCA, “Rhythm Method” in 1981. The effort the band made to expand their sound was admirable and it was impressive that bassist (Bob Gifford) and drummer (Matt Thurber) attempted funkier bass lines and more intricate ska patterns into their playing - but the songwriting doesn’t quite match up to their previous album. Having just 10 months in between releases, the members were pressed for material, so their sophomore effort comes across as a tad rushed and hallow and few of the tracks drag out the melodic interest with a feeling of truncation, as if they needed a little more time to smoothly incorporate new textures and tempos. Still, their raffish charms managed to push through an ample amount of gems: “Love’s Not Safe” plays with busy signatures but manages to dissolve nicely into the ears; “Move Over” is prime, reflective pop and the haunting “Take the Chance” by their bassist, Gifford, proved he was coming into his own as a clever songwriter. MCA dropped them shortly after, and they remain a footnote in chart nostalgia and for power pop geek fans like me. They deserved better, but fortunately for us, outlets like “The Listening Post” can keep their pop suss and magic going.