Marianne Faithfull – Marianne Faithfull [1965; Decca, London Records]

On her debut album (released the same day as her second album, Come My Way, with another album, Go Away from My World, released the same year), Marianne Faithfull works in light but soulful pop rock, with shades of psychedelic pop emerging in the guitar tones and tambourine. Themes of nature, self-reflection, and personal relationships are common to the songs, but the music keeps an upbeat air even for the most down-cast lyrics. With each of the songs kept under three minutes, the rapid pace works in impressionistic fashion, gliding along from one bittersweet tone-piece to the next. Short but effective in its gentle regret, with Faithfull’s voice creating a memorable presence.

Here’s the alternate cover art.

And the cover art used in Uruguay.

J. Blackfoot – City Slicker [1983; Allegiance, Soundtown Records]

With his first solo album, J. Blackfoot (an original member of the Stax-originated Soul Children quartet) meshes his earthy soul vocals with a blend of funk and disco, finding a shared ground of grooves and party-friendly vibes. His backing band and some support singers help give the songs a sense of expansion beyond the generally basic melodies, which helps keep the fun and flow gliding along in cool form. Some bleeping in the title track stands out as odd interference with the capable funkiness, but outside of that and a bit of poppy over-compromising, there’s very few faults with this album. The overall brevity (the nine songs add up to ~35 minutes of material) is a bit disappointing, but it keeps the formula from being worn too thin, and makes it all the easier to justify throwing it on for another listen.

Here’s the alternate cover art.

And another alternate cover.

Gearwhore – Drive. [1998; Astralwerks, Virgin]

On Gearwhore’s only album, the group turns out some breakbeat/techno tunes in the vein of The Prodigy’s early releases, with thick layers of building percussive interactions and jabs of punkish synth abrasion slipping into trance-like cycling once it hits sufficient accumulation. The track wrap-ups tend to be the weakest part, often opting for simple fade-outs, something made all the more disappointing by the proficiency demonstrated on the way to those points.

Some surprisingly tender tones crop up (with “Love” being a stand-out track in that regard), and the song-writing finds some clever ways of twisting the base patterning. The album flow and transitions occasionally get a little choppy, and the song build-up sometimes takes a while to kick into gear, but for the most part, the music shows some excellent technique and knack for grooves being deployed. Quite a shame that no follow-up album was created, but as a one-off, it stands pretty strong.

Fuzz Townshend – Far In [1999; Fruition Records]

On his first solo album, Fuzz Townshend turns out a blend of breakbeat, reggae, alternative rock, and a little bit of jazz, with the beat-driven stew sloshing about in a generally upbeat fashion. For the most part, the songs are built around following a given groove or riff, without much in the way of clever structuring, and development of the track tends to go the way of slipping down a break or reiterating with a few more layers slapped onto the cycle. The loops tend to be fairly fun and stylish, though, with a vibe that’s clear and crisp without being over-polished, and while that’s not enough to make up for the shallow arrangements, it does make for easier listening. Neat enough for a diversion, but the flitty songs end up making it feel like an unfinished album.

Here’s the alternate cover art.

Chilly – For Your Love [1978; Polydor]

Early electrodisco marks the debut album from Chilly, which opens with an expansive ~12-minute adaptation of The Yardbirds’ “For Your Love”, rolling out sharp guitar twitching, punchy percussion, and syrupy synth dressing with lush vocal accompaniment. The grooves are given lots of life, as in the songs that follows, and while all seven tracks together come in at just over half an hour, the lavish production-work and high energy of the performances make the album feel bigger than it really is.

Also helping are the swings through uncommon atmospheres for the style, like the slightly cold and plaintive intro to “Dance With Me”, and the switch-offs between the multiple singers. Though things accelerate towards the end, with the last two songs falling under the three-minute mark, there’s still plenty to savor, and the fun ride through the full album does a lot to off-set its brevity.

Here’s an alternate cover.

And another alternate cover.

Village People – Village People [1977; Barclay, Black Scorpio, Bullet Disco, Can’t Stop Productions, Casablanca, Derby, DJM Records, Music For Pleasure, Orange, Philips, RCA, RCA Victor, Telefunken]

On their debut album, the Village People deliver what would practically be an EP at about twenty minutes of material, if not for the first side being a ~10-minute medley, flowing from “San Francisco (You’ve Got Me)” to “In Hollywood (Everybody Is A Star)”. Not quite as chorus-focused than their later big hits (at least until the end of the medley), the A-side plays up the actual instruments, with just shy of a dozen musicians performing the tight-written rhythms, with twists into big and funky grooves. The Village People themselves do little more than sing, with Felipe Rose, the Native American character, also playing bells.

While the vocals are a little too persistent for the music to launch into a really strong treatment of the central melodies for any of the songs, the arrangements are kept sharp and hooky, even if they do tend to run on into lackluster drop-offs. Significantly less campy than follow-up material would prove to be, there’s a surprisingly straight-faced quality to this first album, matching the serious expressions of the People on the cover.

Here’s the alternate cover art.

And another alternate cover.

Razed High – Invisible [2001; Insidious Urban Records]

On their only album, the duo of Razed High mesh downtempo beats with swirling sample loops, making chill and jazzy arrangements that float along until fading out to a finish. The A-side takes its time with five tracks, while sixteen are crammed into the second half (turning more into sound assemblages than traditional songs), as track titles such as “Indigenous Invisibility”, “Corporate Blindness”, and “Forest Lost” provide an inflection of societal commentary to the almost entirely instrumental cuts. Squirts of turntablism and bolts of drum-pad embellishment tend to be the most active parts of the songs, but the easy-going rhythmic rides use quiet background texturing to generate levels of depth that can easily slip by the ear. A cool and confident batch of tracks, making it quite a shame that apart from a two-track 7″, this was the group’s only release.

DJ I.Cue – Ingenious Creations & Unique Experiments [1999; Home Entertainment]

On I-Cue’s only album besides his ‘96 Twisted & Funky mix, the producer/DJ unpacks a batch of cut-together beats and clean-drop samples, with guests popping in on a couple of tracks to provide original raps. Mellow grounding lets the more active cut-work operate without getting too unhinged, and the guest tracks mesh easily with those built around sampled vocals, giving the whole album a smooth flow and an air of coolness even at its highest speeds.

The turntablism doesn’t pull anything too wild, but the incorporation of drum’n’bass with the hip-hop backing leads to some very flavorful moments and a blend that was still fairly uncommon for the time of its release, as does the leaning into spacier compositions in other sections. Occasional drifts into jazz loops show I-Cue’s facility with making more common stylings sound good, and the variety comes off as
well-rounded instead of scattered, making it all the more disappointing that a full follow-up never emerged.

Amy McBryde & The Active Ingredient – Big Talk [2017; self-released]

On the debut album from this two-piece band, the duo meshes alternative verve with country rock instrumentation, while Amy McBryde’s fast-moving vocals fire off reflections and accusations with equal commitment. Whether brashly plugging along (as is the case with most of the songs) or slowing down to more introspective pacing (e.g., “Christmas in Dogtown”), the guitars support the lyrical moods quite well, and McBryde’s vocal work complements the strains and bridges with emotional aplomb. Firm self-support in the face of adversity crops up in the verses of nearly every song, making the few points of open vulnerability stand out all the more sharply, and despite the narrow variety to the guitar licks, the album succeeds in at least feeling as though it’s delivering a larger experience, thanks to the strength of personality on display.

Crunch – 1 [2001; Musik Aus Strom]

The first album from the duo of Mike Wallis and Dave Tipper under the name Crunch offers up fifteen tracks of clippy, buzzy electronic experimentation, applying IDM techniques to more sedate soundscapes. Chopped and drilled percussion, sharp pitch changes, squished breakbeats, and a host of audio filters are applied and combined over the course of the album, with the infrequent bursts of higher energy sliding right into place next to the more chill regularity.

Despite the often fragmentary style of the songs, the grab-bag of effects, and the absence of vocals, the album keeps its flow going without much stumbling, and the processed nature of the music combines well with the sly humor that flavors most of the pieces. It does end up drifting into redundancy a few times, but the reconfigured tweaks help brush that off as a minor flaw. All together, some nicely creative works built on strong technical knowledge.