Reviews of the new releases from Superdrag, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Hall & Oates and Spaceways Inc.
Superdrag
Last Call for Vitriol
Back when Knoxville's Superdrag were on Elektra Records, they were largely perceived as just another major-label alt-rock hopeful. Since ending their contentious relationship with that imprint and heading back underground, however, the now- quartet has become known as something else entirely — underdog rock 'n' roll torchbearers, one of America's last bastions of melody and mid-tempo power chords.
Of course, that's exactly what they've always been, label notwithstanding. And their fourth long-player, Last Call for Vitriol, is yet another ace amalgam of backbeats, Beatle-esque harmonies and unabashed major-key riffage. It's the most stripped-down, live-sounding drag album to date, but nonetheless takes some successful stylistic chances. Last Call also contains the most overt Fab Four-isms since 1998's Head Trip in Every Key: "So Insincere," "Way Down Here Without You" and especially "Her Melancholy Tune" all fairly scream with their influence, albeit in the best possible way.
Founder John Davis' undeniable knack for marrying hooks and volume endures, most prominently in "Baby Goes to Eleven" (featuring a guest vocal by Guided by Voices principal Bob Pollard) and "Feeling Like I Do." He and drummer Don Coffey's contributions are matched by those of relatively new bassist, vocalist and songwriter Sam Powers. His tunes have an unselfconscious, energetic bar-band quality all their own, and "Remain Yer Strange" might be the best song here. The surprisingly countrified departure "Safe & Warm" finds Davis and Powers collaborating at their best, while all three songwriters yield the dirt-pop standout "The Staggering Genius."
Superdrag full-lengths have occasionally included one or two somewhat weaker tracks, generally of the plodding and emotionally distraught variety. But on Last Call, the presence of Powers seems to both inspire Davis and alleviate the pressure of filling the bill. Consequently, the result is the band's strongest overall effort since its debut disc, Regrettably Yours. (Arena Rock, www.arenarockrecordingco.com)—Scott Harrell
Red Hot Chili Peppers
By the Way
Credit the Chili Peppers for leaving behind the rap-rock style they helped pioneer. By the Way, though, is an odd place for them to end up. This is essentially a polite pop record, with hardly a hint of the grit and frenzy that was the L.A. band's stock-in-trade for so many years. Frontman Anthony Keidis raps on only a couple of these 16 songs. The dude's an OK rapper, but a shaky singer. His braying does not fit the myriad low-key tunes here; it's as if he's striving to be sensitive. ("Under the Bridge," what hath ye wrought?). With all the background harmonies and woo-woos going on, you'd think Keidis was trying to get in touch with his inner Brian Wilson. But he lacks the melodic imagination to pen truly grabby pop; there are a lot of rehashed hooks floating around By the Way. Flea, Frusciante and drummer Chad Smith are similarly restrained, perhaps at the behest of producer Rick Rubin. The band even takes a stab at ska (On Mercury) and Latin (Cabron), which suggests they're trying very hard to be something they're not. (Warner Bros.)—Eric Snider
Hall & Oates
Behind the Music:
The Daryl Hall and John Oates Collection
A guilty pleasure. That's the historic shakedown on Hall & Oates. I'm here to say I ain't feeling guilty. The two Philly area buds concocted an often sublime meeting of folk, soul, pop and rock that was long on hooks, rife with terrific singing and a little short on message. They excelled more at making hit singles than cohesive albums, which is why this latest (among many) retrospectives concentrates on chart-toppers. Entire albums (anyone remember 1979's X-Static?) go unrepresented in this 17-song compendium. The set kicks in after the tandem left Atlantic for RCA, which means that material from the fabulous Abandoned Luncheonette is sadly missing. You know the tunes here: "Sara Smile," "Rich Girl," "You Make My Dreams," "One on One," "Maneater" and such. They hold up, folks. I dare say that they're more durable and timeless than, for instance, Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." (OK, I'm going into hiding now.) The compilers' major miscue was including two songs — "She's Gone" and "Kiss on My List" — from a lousy live set, recorded in '82 and released last year. An extra dimension not often heard on these types of packages is the addition of three new studio songs, astutely grouped at the end. They're solid tunes in the blue-eyed soul tradition that sit nicely on the ears. They are not, however, likely to build on the formidable Hall & Oates legacy. (BMG Heritage)—Eric Snider
Spaceways Inc.
Version Soul
One of the many ad hoc groups that have resulted from revolving-door collaborations so rampant on the Chicago avant-jazz scene, Spaceways Inc. returns with a second vital offering. Unlike the trio's debut, a deconstructed collection of Sun Ra and George Clinton songs, Version Soul showcases material birthed by reedman Ken Vandermark and bassist Nate McBride. They're joined by ace drummer Hamid Drake, who drives these post-bop, funk and reggae tunes with limber intensity. He stays in the pocket, but plays as if he's got a few bolts loose. The feels range from the languid, spacious reggae of Back of a Cab and All Frequencies to the frenetic, skronky swing of Force at a Distance. Vandermark, who refuses to make entreaties to the jazz establishment, further proves he's a brilliant, versatile player, equally at home with outside blowing, riffy R&B and cool swing. McBride is equally facile on flowing acoustic and thumping electric. Collectively, the trio cruises along with the kind of relaxed effervescence heard only in truly simpatico players. (Atavistic, www.atavistic.com)—Eric Snider
This article appears in Jul 24-30, 2002.