The 1981 Listening Post - Bandera - Knights

 Reviewed by Rod Brogan

Released: 1981 Bandera Knights Genre: Southern Rock Rating: 3.5 out of 5 Highlights: Illegal Blame It On The Full Moon If Ronnie Van Zant's 1979 death was the beginning of the end for the Southern Rock that reached it's commercial height in the 1970s with the Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd, no one told these guys. In fact, they may have been troubled label MCA's attempt at keeping the music, and the money, going. (Read the lyrics to Skynyrd's "Working For MCA" to get a feel for what they thought of the Yankee slickers who signed them.) Comprised of session players from Nashville who were originally a backing band for others artists' showcase nights, and fronted by singer/songwriter/guitarist Lore Orion, Bandera toured a while but broke up when their debut album flopped. This is Orion's band, and he's the legacy of this group; in the years since, Orion's songs have been covered by Bill Anderson, David Rogers, Waylon Jennings, and Tim McGraw, who recorded two of Lore's songs on 2002's 'Tim McGraw and the Dancehall Doctors' album. Album opener Billie The Kid owes more than a note or three to Johnny B. Goode in it's melody line, before a jangly country rock chorus over a walking bass line and driving 4 on the floor beat. Illegal shows the genre's blues roots, especially throughout the melodic pentatonic solo, combined with harder drums and twin guitars leads on the fadeout. While Illegal may be the song McGraw chose, album closer Blame It On The Full Moon is the real gem here, with soulful vocal harmonies and an LP's worth of dueling guitar licks. It's the type of track that you listen to and wonder: "Why isn't this better known?" So what happened? Was Bandera's failure to chart the result of a label that couldn't get out of its own way? Did the band just form too late in the commercial life cycle of Southern Rock? Did they miss out on MTV just a few years later, unlike ZZ Top with their iconic looks and videos? Or is it simply that minus the jazzy jamming of the Allman Brothers, and the more in-your-face rebellious lyrics of Skynyrd, Bandera were just a little too vanilla? Orion's fans may just blame it on the full moon, crack open a beer, and sit back and enjoy this little known treasure.

The 1981 Listening Post - Arroyo - Arroyo

 Reviewed by Sheffield Chastain

Released: 1981 Arroyo Arroyo Genre: Wisconsin Southern Rock Rating: 3.5 out of 5 Highlights: One Man One Woman Caroline Gotta Have You Arroyo's self-titled album feels like a cool breeze on a hot summer day - an energizing little Southern Rock tidbit for blasting from your car stereo as you cruise down the open road. Will they make you forget Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Allman Brothers? - no. But you could do worse. Arroyo hailed from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, whose self titled LP won album-of-the-year honors from the Southeast Wisconsin Music Awards. I contend that Arroyo is the greatest Southern Rock band to come out of the Southeast Wisconsin Music scene of the early 80’s. Prove me wrong. Southern Rock fans would probably give this one a thumbs up if we had the full, unadulterated album. We’re missing one track and a few of the others are live studio recordings, so we aren’t getting the full effect. But I’m hearing enough to be impressed. [1] I’m highlighting the sweet harmonies, excellent guitar work, smoking’ harp and strong song crafting on One Man One Woman, Caroline and Gotta Have You - a classic sound in the Southern Rock vein. Overall, Arroyo's self-titled album is a fairly enjoyable romp through the world of Southern Rock. So, hey man, kick back, pour yourself a cold one, and let the music sweep you back to a simpler time when the hair was long, the guitars were loud, and the good times never seemed to end. ********** 1. Seriously, the live studio tracks will disappoint. Especially when you hear how great they sound on the album tracks.

The 1981 Listening Post - Blades - Bounce Music

 Reviewed by Sheffield Chastain

Released: 1981 Blades Bounce Music Genre: Power Ska Pop Rating: 3.55 out of 5 Highlights: Please Say Yes Hang Around Here Vera Requisite 80’s cover: Time Won’t Let Me - The Outsiders 1966 hit if sung through the filter of The Rembrandts and played as if it were a ska-pop ditty. Did we need it? No. But it’s short and sweet and inoffensive. No harm, no foul. There are a couple of really good power pop songs on this brief album. It’s a short one - 7 songs - and one could argue this is really an EP, though there is no indication anyone ever thought it as such. The first three tracks had me bouncing, which the album title promised. It’s nice when something like that delivers. Please Say Yes is a super bouncy power pop jangly treat with requisite harmonies, peppy lead guitar licks and sweet harmonica interludes (a la The Romantics). Hang Around Here keeps it going with the same formula, though perhaps a little less focused and tending toward the Power Ska Pop that is evident throughout. Vera chugga-chuggas along beautifully squeezing in a cool 15 second rockified lead guitar lick that feels just right - short and sweet - like many of the songs on Bounce Music. There is scant information on these guys (the album was recorded in Los Angeles, so perhaps they were an LA outfit), and by all indications they were one and done. Too bad. The first three tracks are evidence of some nice power pop chops and surely Blades would have grown into something special had they stuck with it. Alas, the world will never know. For now, check out those first three tracks and bounce along!!

The 1981 Listening Post - Qwest - Tampico Gold

 Reviewed by Tom Mott

Released: 1981 Qwest Tampico Gold Genre: Canadian Melodic Rock Rating: 3.6 out of 5 Highlights: Heartbreaker Stick 'Em Up (Alternate Version) (Ed. Note: Bonus Track) Crisp, clear Canadian melodic rock that goes down like a cold can of Molson. On the Foreigner scale, these guys are cold as ice. If a lady put on Time is Running Out and invited me into her waterbed, I would not mind at all. Sadly, it seems they had no idea how to position themselves in 1981. Band name: Better suited to a rap or electro-funk band. Back cover photo: Al Di Meola fedoras and Hawaiian shirts. Publicity photo: striped shirts and pegged pants. Blondie without Debbie Harry? Album name: A secret pot reference? A brand of oranges? Cover art: Glorious late 70s airbrush work. Too bad. They should've gotten a shot. They did get a Dexule Edition of this album, so maybe there's a secret fan base out there.

The 1981 Listening Post - Laid Back - Laid Back

 Reviewed by Tom Mott

Released: 1981 Laid Back Laid Back Genre: Zonnige Elektro-Pop Rating: 3.6 out of 5 Highlights: I Wanna Go Back Take Me Home Walk On (2019 Re-issue Bonus Track) IF YOU WANT TO RIDE, DON'T RIDE THE WHITE HORSE. IF YOU WANT TO RIDE, DON'T RIDE THE WHITE HORSE. WHITE HORSE, DON'T RIDE THE WHITE HORSE. WHITE HORSE, DON'T RIDE THE WHITE HORSE. NO, NO, NO. That cornerstone song of Late 20th Western Civilization is not on this album. In fact, it's an outlier in the Laid Back oeuvre. They had that crazy huge hit and said, hey you know that's cool and all but we're still gonna do our chill Euro-beach thing. Vaguely tropical, unmistakably Euro, easy-going synthpop that conjures up visions of Valérie Kaprisky cavorting on the French Riviera circa 1983. I think Serge would've approved while also admitting with a shrug that it's une bouffée de néant. There's an infectious, glistening sheen here, like an all-night party with a bunch of fun-loving Netherlanders in Biarritz. Not as arch as Trio but just as dumb, Laid Back would hold their own on a double-bill with Yello. Highlights: I Wanna Go Back sounds like Badfinger became a synthpop band. Take Me Home is super fun. The Belle Stars meet Right Said Fred, interpolated by EBN-OZN. Walk On has that smoooooooooth Style Council feel. (Ed. Note: 2019 Re-issu Bonus Track) Still ... IF YOU WANT TO RIDE, RIDE THE WHITE PONY. RIDE, RIDE THE WHITE PONY. WHITE PONY. WHITE PONY. How do you compete with that? They've been going strong for forty years, God bless them.

The 1981 Listening Post - Missing Presumed Dead - Revenge

 Reviewed by Tom Mott

Released: 1981 Missing Presumed Dead Revenge Genre: Post Punk Rating: 3.65 out of 5 Highlights: Always Say No Leave Me My Little Sister's Turning Into Duane Eddie My, my, shepherd's pie! It's that jittery, jazzity, funkity, post-punk sound: Skronk sax, bass way up front, busy jazz drumming, electric guitar played like an amplified washboard. Minutemen, fIREHOSE, The Glaxo Babies, Positive Noise, Rip Rig + Panic, Pigbag, Essential Logic ... Skankin' music for 80s art school kids with asymmetrical hair. If that doesn't speak to you, keep calm and carry on. But if that's your scene, Missing Presumed Dead deliver. They're solid musicians, committed to the music, and aren't afraid to mush about a bit in interesting ways. My Little Sister's Turning into Duane Eddie and Pts. 1-17 both waft into psych/prog territory, suggesting some experimentation with LSD. Leave Me would have filled the post-punk mosh pit. I admit the opening 40 seconds had me hoping for an entirely different album, but there's enough here to maintain interest.

The 1980 Listening Post - Joey Wilson - Going Up

 1980 LISTENING POST DISCOVERY

Joey Wilson

Going Up

Genre: Forgotten New Wave/Power Pop

4.25 out of 5

Highlights:

If You Don’t Want My Love

Taking Me Back

Underground

I Was a Fool

Out of Our World

Let’s connect Blondie to U2 and we will use the most arcane record we can find to do it. Cuz, I’m 100% sure there are a gazillion ways to “six degrees of Kevin Bacon”-ing those two bands. But we’re going to talk about this way so you you can mesmerize people at parties. 

And, by “mesmerize” I mean, “ensure that no one wants to invite you to more parties”. 

Or maybe they like this sort of thing.

Let’s dive in and talk about Going Up, the ONLY record by Local Philadelphia legend, Joey Wilson.

Joey Wilson was the first signing of a new label: Modern Records. 

Goldberg was obviously connected, since after this record flopped he concentrated on promoting his other business partner and put out a little record by Stevie Nicks called Bella Donna.

So, he was able to enlist a well known and suddenly out of work keyboardist-turned-producer to produce the record. One Jimmy Destri, late of the broken up Blondie. And Destri pulls out all the stops. 

Just as a side note…man, does he sound like Glenn Tilbrook. In every great way. 

The ominousness of The Brains on the opener, “If You Don’t Want My Love” sets this album squarely in the New Wave world. It’s glossy, and lush and dark and then gives way to a Billy Joel - meets Elvis Costello on the New Wave blacktop, “Taking Me Back”. 

Those two tracks bash into the showstopper  The broken-hearted ballad, the single, “Underground” which explodes with strings and horns and suggests the Billy Joel song that Billy never wrote. 

That brings us to “Hold On Girl”, which is where we get to talk about U2. And this is author assumption. Because I hear that song and it reminds me, from a production standpoint, of Steve Lillywhite. And The Edge. And I have to believe that it was this song that caught certain ears because after this record came out, and landed with a thud, Destri was invited to potentially produce u2’s War with Steve. They worked on three songs that have come out in various forms over the decades and, well, we all know that Destri didn’t end up being the producer on that, or any other, U2 album. But, because of THIS record, he got the shot to produce that one.  

The roots of 80s rock is in this thing. I hear not just the overproduction of Lillywhite but the song-stylings of Neil Finn. I would put Wilson next to anything Split Enz or Crowded House put out and you might think they were the same groups. Just without the incessant hooks that are needed to crack the charts. 

And the title track is a work of 80s Cars-esque majesty. But even they never really got this epic. 

What happened to Goldberg? He would manage Nirvana. 

And Wilson? He died of a heroin addiction at the age of 43. His lasting legacy is that you can buy this record for $2.75 in Mint condition on Discogs. 

Excuse me while I overpay for shipping….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=va4P3zdvKFQ&list=PLlvn8uktX5LvbrTGop70Iu6HT7S1UaRUS

The 1982 Listening Post - Iron Maiden - The Number of the Beast

 Reviewed by John Tommasino

Released: March 22 1982 Iron Maiden The Number Of The Beast Genre: Heavy Metal/NWOBHM Allen’s Rating: 4.5 out of 5 John’s Rating: 5 out of 5 Highlights: 22, Acacia Avenue Run To The Hills Hallowed Be Thy Name First of all, Iron Maiden is my favorite band of all time so I admit that is impossible to write an objective review. But I will try. Iron Maiden had put out two impressive high energy records with lead singer Paul Di'Anno and the band was building some serious momentum in the world of music. But behind the scenes, Di'Anno was rubbing a lot of people the wrong way with his brash attitude and unprofessional antics. If you get a chance, read the Maiden biography "Run to the Hills" by Mick Wall. Wall describes a typical Di'Anno episode when the maiden frontman mouthed off to Gene Simmons of Kiss when Simmons was paying the band a genuine bit of praise. Bassist Steve Harris and maiden manager Rod Smallwood had had enough. But switching vocalists before recording their third record was a big gamble. Fortunately Samson lead singer Bruce Dickinson was ready to take the band to a whole new level. The Number of the Beast is an epic metal album. From the opening track chronicling a medieval battle in 'Invaders' to the man contemplating his impending death in 'Hallowed Be Thy Name' this record delivers the metal goods like no one had before. Standouts include the title track and the first single released "Run to the Hills" but the whole record is solid prime metal. "22 Acacia Avenue" continues a story about a prostitute named Charlotte in epic form. The evocative title track reminds me of cinematic depictions of occult activity and I have no doubts that this song fueled the Satanic Panic of the 1980s...despite the cartoonish Derrick Riggs cover depicting Maiden mascot Eddie towering over the devil himself and pulling the strings of the prince of darkness. Even lesser known tracks like "Gangland" carry out a showcase for drummer Clive Burr and Harris on bass. Dickinson's operatic vocals prove to be more than a good fit for the group. The gamble paid off in spades. Without Dickinson I doubt the band would have evolved into the metal legends they are today. Give this album its due, it's a great one!

The 1982 Listening Post - Bruce Springsteen - Nebraska

Reviewed by Chris Roberts Released: September 30 1982 Bruce Springsteen Nebraska Genre: Folk Rock Allen's Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Chris’ Rating: 5 out of 5 Highlights: Nebraska Atlantic City Mansion On The Hill Johnny 99 Highway Patrolman State Trooper Used Cars Open All Night My Father’s House Reason To Believe I know The Boss’ Jersey bombast is too much for some folks. “Born In The USA” and “Born To Run” are just a few of Bruce’s unrelenting assaults, and if you’ve ever seen or heard his legendary live shows, you know Bruce and the E-Street band launch all the missiles. He’s the consummate rock star, both exhilarating and exhausting, but if you’re not into it, Bruce can look pretty silly. But Nebraska does not feature the E-Street band, or even Bruce the rock star. He’s not dancing in the dark. This is a dark night of the soul. Bruce the writer, in a rented house by his lonesome self. Nebraska is mostly simple compositions, played on an acoustic guitar, with an occasional harmonica or other small embellishment, home-recorded. While home demo tracks have become de rigueur, and MTV unplugged everyone in the nineties, Nebraska is another thing entirely. [1] Nebraska is about the stories, not the storyteller. In fact, Bruce isn’t even on the cover (a rarity in his discography). Instead, it’s a grainy, black and white photograph—a windshield view of a desolate highway. Aside from snow on the wiper blades, there’s nothing to identify the location. The photo sits between the words BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, printed in big red letters at the top, with NEBRASKA handled the same across the bottom. Words on wide black bands, the kind you see on a letterboxed movie. This is fitting, as Nebraska is cinematic, showing us scenes with characters in conflict. And like a letterboxed movie, this album wants to show us the full picture, including the edges. The first song, “Nebraska,” establishes the album’s grim theme with it’s final verse. When asked why he killed ten innocent people, a death row murderer explains: “Well sir, I guess there’s just a meanness in this world.” This meanness is direct in the stories of a mob hitman, (“Atlantic City”), a cop killer (“Johnny 99”) and a cop who looks the other way when his brother commits a violent crime (“Highway Patrolman”). The meanness is also indirect. It’s wealth, in the stories of outsiders looking in (“Mansion On The Hill” and “Used Cars”), and struggles of conscience (“My Father’s House”) or the lack thereof (“State Trooper”). In the album closer, “Reason To Believe,” Springsteen does not offer faith as a solution to the “meanness in this world” only that it’s “kinda funny” that in spite of dead dogs, runaway lovers, broken promises, and everything else we’ve heard over these ten gloomy tracks, people do find “some reason” to believe. I remember listening to Nebraska in July 1989, speeding home at night on Interstate 5 somewhere between Lost Hills and the Grapevine; nothing but blacktop, scrub brush and a rusted billboard frame or two. Alone in the dashboard light, these songs felt like I’d tuned the radio to a cold, still-of-night broadcast from the central wastelands of the apocalypse. Gone were the Central Valley rancheros and all that was left were these decaying transcriptions from a failed civilization. Bruce described it like this: In the wee wee hours your mind gets hazy Radio relay towers gonna lead me to my baby Every song on Nebraska has at least some mention of driving or the highway, and many are told from the position of the driver’s seat. That specific lyric appears in not one, but two songs. In “State Trooper,” it’s in the thoughts of the unlicensed driver who’s committed some unspeakable crime and doesn’t want Mister State Trooper to pull him over—for the trooper’s sake. In “Open All Night,” the cops have already turned on their flashing lights, but in this case, the driver, on his way to see his girl Wanda, is “hummin’ like a turbojet” in his fully tuned ride and wishes the patrolman “good luck” catching him. Both songs also follow this lyric with the radios being “jammed up,” with “gospel” and “talk show station(s).” But it’s less the context and more the repetition that I find intriguing. These lyrics perfectly capture Nebraska’s dark night of the soul vibe, and the challenges we face finding salvation. Repeating them with different characters reinforces the universality of that challenge. Those same repeated lyrics also capture and compliment Nebraska’s lo-fi sonic texture. Words like “hazy,” “radio relay towers” and “radio jammed up” express the pervasive background hum inherent in Bruce’s demo recording. His original goal was to flesh the songs out with the E-Street Band—but the moments captured in the home recording haunted him. Like the sizzling of sodium lights in a parking lot, or echoes in an abandoned building, it’s both unnerving and sparely atmospheric, spiritually closer to indie rock than classic rock, and worlds apart from Bruce’s later acoustic albums (The Ghost Of Tom Joad and Devils And Dust). Back to that night, listening to Nebraska behind the wheel of my little red pickup, I probably thought of Johnny Cash [2] and the inmates he sang to at Folsom and San Quentin. I was working on my English major, so maybe I should have recognized Bruce was channeling Flannery O’Connor, who once wrote: “You arrive at enough certainty to be able to make your way, but it is making it in darkness. Don’t expect faith to clear things up for you. It’s trust, not certainty.’” That’s what’s going on in Nebraska, for sure. Of course, I found that quote Googling “Springsteen Scorsese” because I know movies better than I know books [3] (so much for that B.A.). Terrance Malick’s film Badlands was Springsteen’s inspiration for the song “Nebraska,” and Sean Penn’s film Indian Runner was inspired by “Highway Patrolman.” I can draw parallels to movies by Joel and Ethan Coen (“Blood Simple,” “Fargo” “No Country For Old Men” and “Oh Brother Where Art Thou”) and Martin Scorsese (“Mean Streets” “Taxi Driver” and “Goodfellas”). You probably can too. You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m not actually sure that I listened to Nebraska that night in July 1989. I know I was at a personal crossroads, so it feels right. I sorta wonder if Nebraska captured my “hazy” mindset so perfectly, that I’ve retconned my past. ********** 1. Bon Iver, The Killers and Kelly Clarkson are among the artists who’ve recorded albums inspired by Bruce’s minimalist approach on Nebraska. I could argue there’s probably not a No Depression scene without Nebraska. 2. Cash called his 1983 album Johnny 99, which included covers of “Johnny 99” and “Highway Patrolman.” He also covered “I’m On Fire” (a song which borders Nebraska) on the Nebraska tribute album, Badlands. “Badlands” is also the name of a song on Springsteen’s 1978 album, Darkness On The Edge of Town. 3. I have listened to the audiobook of Born To Run by Christopher McDougall, which is about barefoot running. I have not listened to Born To Run, which is Bruce Springsteen’s autobiography.

The 1982 Listening Post - The Bats (US) - How Pop Can You get?

 Reviewed by Allen Lulu / LISTENING POST DISCOVERY

Released: 1982 The Bats (US) How Pop Can You Get? Genre: Power Pop Rating: 4.75 out of 5 Highlights: How Pop Can You Get? Not Easy For Me Mr. Peculiar Living In Alaska Not My Girl Anymore Hey Teen-Age Every Night Too Out / Bottom Of The Ninth Popgun (bonus track on the 2008 re-issue) There isn’t a bad track on here. True story: In my Covid haze I forgot to close out my audio recording app so everything funneled through it made this record sound awful. I was about to give it 4.5 stars based on that even though the production and mastering was so awful. My bad. I closed it out during the penultimate song and, lucky me, I got to listen to the entire thing again!!! Who the heck were The Bats? Well, I’m glad you asked. Before the soundtracks for the likes of Paul Thomas Anderson. Before producing Fiona Apple and Kanye. Before the stints at the Club Largo. This was Jon Brion’s band. And it’s a banger. It lies somewhere between Sparks and Jellyfish. With, yes, a little bit of The Tubes (“Every Night”). It’s like … an 80s Fountains of Wayne. Put this in the same box as Game Theory for me. Power Pop gems that no one heard or ever will hear. “Not My Girl Anymore” is the theme song to a sit-com that never happened. But, damn, it should. 10 years later this is the theme to some CW show. That is not a bad thing, btw. From the liner notes: “"Living In Alaska" and "Hey Teen-age" are early eight track sessions, some of our first. We had so much fun that it seemed that re-recording for the sake of higher tech would have been an anti climax. Pardon the hiss level.” This album is damned near perfect.