If you’re not up on your extended Frank Zappa lineage, you might not know anything about this Cincinnati-based trio. I’m probably fucking this up, but I think the origins go like this: there was a band called the Raisins, and they recorded an album that was produced by former Zappa guitarrist Adrian Belew. Then they all got together and formed a Chicinatti-based band called The Bears. After two albums and a few years of touring, the band split up and Belew went solo. But the core trio of the band stayed together and called themselves the Psychodots. They also, oddly enough, toured with Belew, both opening for him and serving as his backing band. I saw them on that tour in ‘94, and despite the fact that my friend Steve Simms is the biggest Zappa fanatic ever, therefore being huge fans of these guys too, I’d never heard note one of them until this show. I was so blown away, I bought the Blotter CD and then played it 20,000 times over the course of that summer.

First, Blotter is not a real album; it’s a 6-song compilation containing tracks from their first two albums. It’s just a simple clear slipcase with a photocopied track listing in it, nothing fancy there. On the contrary, this music is incredibly clear and present, the kind of production that reminded me of when everyone was analog and then bands like Rush suddenly went digital. Despite the fact that the trio is just a bass-drum-guitar group, there’s a lot of thick sound here. Part of this comes from the fact that vocalist/axeman Rob Fetters uses one of those Roland MIDI pickup systems that drives an external synth. I’d always heard horror stories of these things, but I saw the man do it live, and he effortlessly went from playing keyboard intros to slamming through guitar solos with no problems at all. Also, bassist Bob Nyswonger doesn’t just pluck a note here or there with a pick and then count to four; he plays the bass more like a guitar, even taking solos and pulling out chords when the need arises.

It’s hard to describe ‘Dots music, other than to say it’s not much like the twice-removed math-rock that you’d expect from a distant cousin on the Zappa family tree. It’s much more singer-songwriter oriented, with strong guitar parts, clean synth bits, and a tight sound overall. Songs like the opening “Moaner” are almost straightforward power-pop, while stuff like “Big Love Now” build strong anthems with harmonized and powerful vocals. I remember thinking in 1994 that these songs sounded so NEW, and it’s weird that over a decade later, they still sound fresh. The six-song sampler ends too fast, but I’ve also kept it on repeat a dozen times with no boredom. It’s very catchy stuff from an underappreciated Ohio band. I’ll have to hunt down their other albums and see it they also hold up. They’ve since been active and have some new material too, that I’m downloading from iTunes as we speak…

Rating: 8

If you ask many music fans what the best concept album ever is, they will all answer 2112. This is because they’re stupid. I’m not saying that this is a bad album; I’m saying that it’s not a concept album. It contains one really long concept song on the A-side, and a bunch of useless filler on the B-side. And that mental disconnect is the difference between an album that everyone remembers as really great and an album that is really great.

Okay, so this album is supposed to be a big deal, because Rush put out a lot of nerdy Tolkein-rock on their first three (well, second and third) albums, and this is the one that got people to go to the record store and put down their cash. It’s arguable whether or not this album or the following All the World’s a Stage pushed their work out there more, since the live album carried these songs a bit more. But either way, this is the biggest of the first “set” of Rush albums, and it’s one that everyone wants in their collection.

I don’t need to say much about the Orwellian 2112 song. It’s 20

of rock opera that has some quiet moments, some other decent songwriting, and ends in a huge finale of dueling guitar and bass and a booming robot voice proclaiming “ATTENTION ALL PLANETS OF THE SOLAR FEDERATION: WE HAVE ASSUMED CONTROL.” Even though their record company tried to steer them away from writing another giant suite of conceptual music (on the heels of Caress of Steel which was a huge commercial failure), the band decided to belt out this giant story of a totalitarian society in the future that bans music and art. Meanwhile, a dude discovers an old guitar, learns how to play it (in just over three minutes, which is part III of the song), and then presents it to his masters, who smash it. The guy go hides in a cave and offs himself. The song ends with a giant space battle and an ambiguous ending, where either the high priests of the new order destroy everything and assume control, or some new power overthrows the priests and assumes control. (We don’t know which, although I’m sure I will get a few emails from people saying what the real meaning is supposed to be.)

Chief lyricist Neil Peart was heavily influenced by the Ayn Rand book Anthem for this story, although he later claims he didn’t realize how much he ripped off her story until he looked back at it later. Either way, he thanks her in the liner notes. Oddly enough, the band does another song, “Anthem,” also based on Rand’s work. And years later, the movie Footloose was based on the main premise of “2112.” (Okay, it wasn’t.)

“2112” is a cool bit, but it’s also a curse, because you don’t want to be forced to play a huge cumbersome twenty-minute piece during every one of your live sets. And decades later, when they pulled this out of the chest and reintroduced a shorter version to live shows, Geddy Lee could no longer hit all of his older shrieking high notes, requiring a pitch shift downward that made it all sound weird. Still, good stuff and pretty much a decent ref back to 1976 for all of us.

The rest of the album doesn’t hold up well at all. “Something for Nothing” is a straight-up rocker that still finds its way into modern setlists. “A Passage to Bangkok,” a little ballad written about smoking hash, probably seemed like all the rage back in ‘76, but the band tried to later wash its hands of it during the Reagan-era “just say no” years, even deleting it from a live album when it got re-released to CD. “Lessons” is marginal (and one of few songs where Lifeson wrote the lyrics instead of Peart), and “Tears” is straight-up weepy (with lyrics by Geddy.) “The Twilight Zone” takes the mark for the strangest little song they ever released. The little romp through a handful of Rod Serling-hosted horror episodes was filller written at the last minute while the band was in the studio, something they admit used to happen on each of their albums. Aside from the titular cut, if they released this CD with none of the other tracks except maybe “Something for Nothing” and maybe padded it with live stuff, I’m not sure anyone will notice.

This is an interesting album for historical reasons, but it’s not a regular in my playlist. “2112” has been redone at least twice on live albums, plus any boots you might have, and they are all much more listenable as far as the other tracks before and after. Buy this if you’re a completist (and get the gold disc if you’re a completist with a lot of cash) but focus on the later albums if you’re on a budget.

Rating: 7.5

When this 1987 EP came out, every Metallifan immediately rushed to the store to pick it up, because it was the first release from the band since the death of bassist and mastermind Cliff Burton. It was also proof that the band could go on after the loss of their best member, because many people expected them to fall into a heavy alcoholic daze and jump off a bridge. But the band, in some kind of denial tactic, quickly auditioned a million bassists (and bass players), chose Jason Newsted, and rushed into a homemade studio to record this five-track EP of covers as a sort of proof of concept.

One thing you’ll remember if you bought this thing back in the fall of ‘87 is that it was called the $5.98 EP if you bought the tape, and the $9.98 EP if you were a CD freak, which almost nobody was back in ‘87. This was probably to prevent record stores from slapping a regular price on it and soaking the profit. (See also the SST Blasting Concept compilations.) I DID have a CD player and this was probably my 4th or 5th CD purchase ever. Another difference I found is that on the original pressing of the CD, the bands covered are not listed on each song, so I had to borrow someone’s tape during study hall and write down the info. Oh, and old skool fans will know that the “re-re” part of the title is because the first Garage Days was a tiny collection of covers thrown on the backside of the Creeping Death EP import, which were later added to (and then later deleted from) pressings of Kill ‘Em All.

That didn’t matter much anyway, because none of us knew the names of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and hardcore punk bands that were chosen to cover on the EP. Most of us had heard of The Misfits, or at least seen the t-shirt, but Budgie? Diamond Head? Killing Joke? Holocaust? They sounded interesting, but these weren’t albums you’d find in a Musicland in the middle of Indiana, so we had to trust that they’d be cool.

Going into the fast drum beat that leads of “Helpless,” you can tell this is going to be much more raw and less experimental and lofty than the previous Master of Puppets. Metallica manages to take the original Diamondhead version of the song and put their own mark on it, with thick rhythm guitar, fast leads that are almost a throwback to their first album, and bass. Yes, bass! Those of us who were plugged in at the time already knew newkid from his own band, Flotsam and Jetsam, and remember that he could really fucking play the 4-string. Pick up a copy of their first album and put on the song “Metalshock” and he is all over the place and totally up front with his bass sound. He’s all over Garage Days, and that made everyone happy that while he was no Cliff, there would still be mighty bass on future Metallica albums. (This was before the original three members thought it would be funny to totally mute the bass in every further album, making future fans think that Jason could not play at all.)

“The Small Hours” starts with a quiet and creepy guitar bit that sounds almost like horror movie music, and then slowly gets heavier and creeps onward before the group launches into full-on metal mode. It’s a very effective display of their musical ability, and makes you wonder what the original Holocaust version sounded like. Same goes with “The Wait,” which shows us that James Hetfield can occasionally sing rather than grunt and wince, as he belts out the chorus.

Probably my favorite cut from the album is Budgie’s “Crash Course in Brain Surgery,” because it showcases Jason’s bass skills in a fun little song. Yes, he plays a bass solo! And he’s got a groovy line through the whole thing, which also enables Kirk Hammett to lay down a couple of really shredding solos. (A word of warning: you really don’t want to hunt down the original Budgie album with this song on it. It seriously sounds like Jethro Tull’s backing band rocking out to their favorite Spock’s Beard tunes, with Geddy Lee’s sister on vocals. Seriously.) I’m not as hot on the final song(s), “Last Caress/Green Hell.” Yes, I like the Misfits, but it just didn’t fit the band or the rest of the songs on the album. I know at the time I probably thought it was the coolest thing ever, killing babies and raping mothers and all, but now I look back and wish they would have covered “Hybrid Moments” or something.

The best blessing about this little gem of an EP is that it quickly went out of print, and only the old Metallica fans knew about it. For at least a decade, the thing was completely unknown, except for the old-skoolers and a few people who found Japanese bootlegs on eBay for a hundred bucks. That ended when the tracks were reissued on the Garage, Inc collection, and they just didn’t work right mixed in with all of the other B-sides and rarities issued over the years. For me, this was the perfect burst of greatness the band needed before continuing on with bigger and better things. It’s a shame though, because seeing a Metallica do covers like this makes me wish there was an alternate universe where we could just see this band from 1987 belt out Saxon and Motorhead tunes from yesteryear, instead of what Metallica eventually turned into.

Rating: 9

Not many people remember this St. Louis-based metal unit, except for the music critics who claim they were one of the era’s best bands, but were simply lost in the shuffle of the whole Death Metal craze of the time. And guess what - I’m a bit of an amateur music critic, and when Marco at Metal Blade sent me these demos at the beginning of ‘93, I loved the prog-gy rock band. Here’s the review I wrote in Xenocide back in the day:

ANACRUSIS - Screams and Whispers (Metal Blade) This is the fourth release from St. Louis’ claim to progressive metal. These guys aren’t a Death or Thrash band, they have some of the accent and meter of a doom band but they have the balls and sharpness of a hard rock band. Its like Cathedral meets Fates Warning or something. Kenn Nardi’s lyrics are strange, they are sung in places and the phrasing is abnormal, but it gives the album a good feel. The drumwork by Paul Miles and John Emery’s bass lay down a really offbeat and unique foundation for the lucid guitarwork by Nardi and Kevin Heidbreder. The guitars blend pretty decently into the mix except for a well planned jump out of the pit for a sharp, distortion-clear solo of precision, or a harmonic, dual guitar chorus. Don’t forget the clear standalone guitar passages here and there. This concept probably won’t sit well with most fanatic headbangers, and even some more broad-tasted individuals may have to give it a second or third spin before it catches. But to me, it was worth it.

For whatever reason, I never had a copy of this album on CD. I looked around, and found I had two prerelease copies, I think mixed differently (with the standard black-on-white photocopied Metal Blade labels) and also a reviewer/cutout of the actual release. But as far as listening to tapes these days, they might as well be wax cylinders to me, so I haven’t heard these guys in like ten years. Luckily, I thought to punch it in google one day and found the band’s web site, containing MP3s of everything, which I promptly copied to my iPod for another listen.

I’ve never checked out any of the band’s other stuff; their first two on Restless plus Manic Impressions on Metal Blade all sounded a bit uneven in comparison, with the band getting their act together as far as music and production. Screams and Whispers shows the band fully together, playing well and sounding excellent. They detune their guitars like a Death Metal band would, but instead of going for that Carcass-y grindcore sound, it instead makes things more doomy. Add to that the band’s first experiments with synth, in the form of artificial orchestral hits woven into the music, and you have a much thicker soundscape than the average thrash/death release of the time.

Back in 1993, when I was in college and doing the zine, I did not have a car, and used to walk miles and miles everywhere. And this album was one of the ones that I’d put in for a really long trek, when I needed something to push me forward, but not something that was completely manic and then over in 15 minutes, like most demos of the era. There are some highlights here that I really like, that pull me back to when this album was in the walkman constantly. One I really remember is the opener, “Sound the Alarm,” which starts with a very atmospheric, clean guitar sound with a bit of delay, and then slams into a faster beat. “Release” has a more straightforward march to it, but with Ken Nardi’s strange lyrics on top it, adding a weird sense of unease that makes the song more interesting. “A Screaming Breath” and “Driven” both showcase the band’s ability to go in different directions in the same song with complex odd-meter arrangements, which are the band’s trademark. What’s even more amazing is that they switched drummers just before recording, and were able to hash out such complicated meter with a new guy right as they went into the studio.

Like I said before, this album really isn’t for everyone. Even people well-versed into odd-meter, fast-solo prog-rock probably aren’t going to appreciate this, because it’s a lot more about the strange mood captured in the sound. This isn’t a Moving Pictures rocker that has solid AOR songs from start to finish, and even though I love the album for what it is, it’s not like I pop it in the car player when I’m out driving and having a good time. But it’s very well done, and the only chief complaint from me is that the metal world couldn’t really get this, and the band disbanded a short time later. That makes this the only little time capsule of the band’s brief career, and maybe that’s what makes it even that much more special.

Rating: 8.5

The first concert I ever attended was Rush at the old Rosemont Horizon in Chicago, supporting the Hold Your Fire album. Imagine my amazement when I found that the exact tour I saw was released as a live album! They didn’t record the same show (thank god - the sound at that place was similar to recording a live album inside a large oil storage drum), but they did capture the spirit with the fifteen tracks recorded for this CD. I think if I would have reviewed this back in 1989 when it was released, I would have given it a ten. I think it’s interesting to come back to this two decades later and give it a second look.

This is probably the cleanest recorded Rush live album of the five (or six) officially offered by the band. It’s hard to even tell it’s a live album during most of the songs, because there’s absolutely no crowd noise, and the conditions are absolutely perfect. It’s also important to note that Rush almost never deviates from the recorded version of the song, except maybe an extra “ba-bum” at the end of a song. Combine the two, and it’s sometimes hard to distinguish if you’re listening to the live version or the studio version through a lot of the album. Rush fanatics absolutely love this, and think it’s the highest form of perfection and a demonstration how well the trio can play. I’d be more impressed if they could mix things up a bit more, maybe not as much as Frank Zappa did on his ever-changing, ever-mutating setlists, but maybe an extra or different solo here or there.

This album captures the era of Rush after Moving Pictures, but before the band slowed things down and became more irregular with their studio and touring schedule. They blew their wad on the classic, rockable stuff over their previous two live albums, and the only old tune that survives here is the closer, “Closer to the Heart.” Yes, they did play “YYZ” and “Tom Sawyer” on the tour, but this album is just a 75-minute collection of the best parts of the evening, not a historical bootleg-type capture of the whole show. So they really trimmed back the tracklist to only showcase the new stuff.

That means you’ve got a lot of the more dire, more synthified, less guitar-oriented numbers. We’re talking half of Power Windows, a lot of Signals, and a lot of Grace Under Pressure (although not the songs I’d want, and they do “Red Sector A” toward the end of the CD, which usually puts me to sleep.) The one advantage is that the live sound is much better than some of the studio sound on some of these numbers. For example, “The Big Money” (the opener, after a track of the Three Stooges theme music) has a much crisper and a slightly bassier sound to it, and I like it better than the cut on the original album. This is consistent across all of the tracks; without spending hundreds of hours spinning knobs in the studio for that polished sound, they introduce more of Geddy’s bass and a good live guitar sound that challenges the synth-heavy landscape.

There are only four tracks from the album this tour supported, which is also strange. It’s a good grouping from Hold Your Fire, though. They all sound pretty much identical to the album version, which doesn’t do much, but it’s always enjoyable to hear them again. “Mission” was a remarkable live track, because that’s the song where they dropped a million red balloons into the crowd, ala the three red spheres on the cover of the album. It was sensational to be on the first deck of this auditorium and see all of these red spheres float down into the crowd on the floor and then spread out like crimson paint. Unfortunately, you can’t hear this on the live album, but the song’s a nice reminder if you were there (or saw a video).

The highlight of this album is “The Rhythm Method,” Neil Peart’s drum solo. Unlike other albums, this is a standalone solo, not merged in the middle of another song. Peart does a bit of the old-school stuff, but halfway through the solo, his drum kit turns to reveal his electronic drums, and he plays between both sets, using the e-drums to trigger MIDI synth beats that sound like stuff from a big-band number. It’s a completely unique sound and approach, and even though it’s less than five minutes long, it packs a tremendous amount of drumming in a short space.

This isn’t a bad live album. At first, I thought I’d give it a lower rating, because I seldom listen to it, and it’s not a lot of things. It’s not long, and it doesn’t have a tremendous amount of stuff on it. It doesn’t have the old favorites. It doesn’t do anything dramatic or weird or neat (aside from Neil’s solo). It’s a very straightforward capture of one CD’s worth of a concert that was recorded well, end of story. But looking back, it’s such a great-sounding capture of the band at a very key time in their career that’s usually forgotten. I don’t think most people would buy this album to get started on Rush, because there are all kinds of collections and compilations of the old stuff, and I don’t think a fan looking for a good live album would pick this, when they could get one of the older classics, or get a much greater value out of the 3-CD Different Stages CD. But for some reason, I keep listening to this CD, and I think back to when I got it, and it’s just such a perfect little time machine to then, that I realize I do really like this.

Rating: 7