Mark Farner and Don Brewer’s Grand Funk Railroad were alternative superheroes on the ’60s/’70s cusp, when US bands could live high on the hog thanks to outdoor shows. Dogged by mismanagement and internal strife, the Railroad knocked out meaty riffs under the auspices of producers like Todd Rundgren and Jimmy Lenner, and this well-stuffed set includes their calling cards?”We’re An American Band” and the absurd “Walk Like A Man (You Can Call Me Your Man)”. Quite a period piece.

STILL FEEL GONE

MARCH 16-20 1992

COLUMBIA LEGACY

Uncle Tupelo’s 1990 debut took its name from a Carter Family song and gave birth to the No Depression/alt.country movement. Yet, ironically, it’s the most rock-oriented album they made, owing as much to H

HIGH VOLTAGE

EPIC

Every home should have at least one AC/DC album. Most likely it’ll be 1980’s Back In Black: that their most famous album is also their best is somehow fitting for a band whose genius lies in an endless repetition of the obvious. AC/DC’s precision, granite-cracking boogie, sky-bothering choruses and artless lust never sounded better than here, even though singer Brian Johnson?Benny Hill in an iron lung, ostensibly?had only been a member of the band for two months.

Now digitally remastered and with plentiful sleevenotes, most AC/DC albums have their charms. But beyond Back In Black, the most consistent date from the Bon Scott-fronted ’70s line-up. Of these, the ’76 UK debut High Voltage just shades ’79’s Highway To Hell, if only because it proves the band that was playing Melbourne fight clubs sounded frighteningly similar?a little production gloss notwithstanding?to the one at home in Midwestern stadia. A pleasure, as always.

This 1996 debut album from Philippe Zdar and Etienne de Crecy (later of Cassius and the Super Discount series respectively) is the starting point for the French dance movement, and therefore one of that decade’s most important records. Yet the spaces its 10 tracks inhabit are far darker than anything Daft Punk or Air have achieved.

Motorbass’ tactic was to build their tracks slowly, almost imperceptibly, so that naked beats evolve into imperious grandeur (the Norman Whitfield utopia of “Ezio”), or to utilise naggingly familiar samples within huge, vaguely intimidating landscapes (“Les Ondes”, “Neptune”).

The bonus CD includes their long-deleted first two EPs, the second of which, 1993’s “Transphunk”, is noticeably more playful and irreverent.

Post-punk was kinder to women than any previous rock era; the Delta 5, Slits, Bush Tetras and countless others blossomed, providing endless amounts of quirky, inventive, visceral material. In the centre of it all was Lora Logic, whose sax adorned records by X-Ray Spex, The Raincoats and The Stranglers, as well as those of her own Essential Logic. With experimental vocal techniques, Ornette-meets-James Chance sax and odd time changes, Essential Logic were practically prog-punks, as close to early Gong as to Gang Of Four. This generous two-disc collection brilliantly captures the band’s brief moment in the sun as well as Lora’s solo forays.

Forget J-Lo?on this absolute jewel of a record, Teena Marie redefined the boundaries of female pop. The primary-coloured explosion of the title track suggests a familiarity with the mischief of Ze Records, as well as a clear foretaste of what Prince would achieve later that decade. Indeed, future Paisley Park prot

Just as the jam, and even The Style Council, exercised quality control when it came to B-sides, the solo Weller was similarly shrewd in his choice of extra tracks, even after he traded the romantic 45 rpm seven-inch for the sterile CD single.

As compiled over Fly On The Wall’s first two discs, his non-album off-cuts between 1991’s “Into Tomorrow” and 2000’s “Sweet Pea” fall into three categories. First there are ones that got away, like 1995’s “A Year Late”?a harsh jab of acoustic melancholy which might have closed Stanley Road (instead it became the B-side of “You Do Something To Me”). Or 1997’s Heavy Soul-era “Shoot The Dove”, a mid-tempo rock spiritual which would have made a terrific single. Typical of Weller’s maturing repertoire, both deserve inclusion on any career best-of.

Secondly, there are instrumentals. Eight of them, from the early-’90s Acid Jazz hangover of “That Spiritual Feeling” to the block rockin’ beats of “Steam” (its charging drum loop adapted from Stanley Road’s “Whirlpool’s End”) and the E-wary funkadelia of ’97’s “So You Want To Be A Dancer”.

Thirdly, there’s remixes. Portishead’s spy-thriller distortion of “Wild Wood” (from a 1994 NME EP) still sounds great. Ditto Noonday Underground’s sinister shake-up of Heliocentric’s “There’s No Drinking After You’re Dead”.

Finally, there’s the Button Downs (reverse of Pin-Ups?geddit?) covers CD; ad hoc homages to CSNY (“Ohio”), Dylan (“I Shall Be Released”) and others. As well as unreleased takes on Ben Harper’s “Waiting On An Angel” and The Beatles’ “Don’t Let Me Down”, there’s “Instant Karma”, only previously available on last year’s Uncut Lennon tribute compilation (Take 66). It’s an intriguing epilogue, though Fly On The Wall is merited on the strength of its first two thirds alone, where Weller emerges as a prolific songwriter whose will to experiment has proved integral to his survival. The 10-year diary of a changing man, this is compulsive listening.

After his sizzling stint with Bowie, Mick Ronson recorded two solo albums before joining Mott The Hoople and going on to collaborate with Ian Hunter in a recording partnership that lasted 15 years. His third and final solo album, Heaven And Hull, was released a year after his tragic early death in 1993. This specially priced compilation offers 10 tracks without documenting their original provenance or providing writing credits. Hard to see who this package is aimed at.

Various Artists

POOR MAN’S HEAVEN: WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN VOL 6

BOTH BLUEBIRD/RCA

After The White Stripes, it’s normal for young bands today to treat the blues as if it were a fashion accessory. Shame on them, since, as both these impeccable discs reiterate, it was once a life-or-death catharsis for luckless social lepers without so much as a pot to piss in. Take This Hammer captures the great Leadbelly fresh out of stir in 1940 and wary of “TB Blues”, a common concern in the Depression era as also detailed on Poor Man’s Heaven. Poverty, plague, failed crops and the gamut of human misery abound, typified by Harry “Mac” McClintock’s divinely deadpan “Hallelujah, I’m A Bum”?75 years old but absolutely spellbinding.

Some albums are worth keeping for one track alone?in the case of this compilation, it’s Billy MacKenzie’s shattering piano-accompanied rendition of Dave Berry’s “The Crying Game” perhaps the bleakest thing his tormented voice recorded. The remainder of the album sees him tackling songs from all phases of the Associates’ career, including their then-current album Perhaps, as well as aimless covers of things like “Heart Of Glass”, which remind the listener of the hole left by the departure of Alan Rankine.

Mr MacKenzie’s voice is as mischievously moving as ever, but, as with everything he did after Sulk, the material let him down. There but for the grace of Bono walked he.

Originally issued in 1976 as In Concert From Newcastle, this live recording of The Animals at Newcastle’s Club A-Go-Go in December 1963 was made by R&B impresario Giorgio Gomelsky on an Ampex tape recorder for the purpose of capturing some of the excitement the group was generating in its pre-fame period. The Newcastle dates are supplemented by some tracks with The Animals backing bluesman Sonny Boy Williamson. Raw and rough, this music offers a rare chance to check out the early-’60s British R&B boom, and will appeal to dedicated collectors.

WORDS OF EXPECTATION: BBC SESSIONS

SANCTUARY

A loose best-of from their Fontana years (1990 to ’92, or Extricate to Code: Selfish), The War Against Intelligence is rife with classics (“Telephone Thing”, “Free Range”) but ultimately it’s another superfluous addition to The Fall reissue overkill. Unlike the double BBC bonanza Words Of Expectation, though, it’s a slightly rum affair. We’ve their first five Peel sessions from 1978 to ’81, then a jump of 14 years to two more in ’95 and ’96. The concept makes no sense (1984’s rare title track isn’t even here), though the content itself is superb and the 1980 session (“Container Drivers” etc) is simply genius.

In 1965 Lonnie Youngblood (aka The Prince Of Harlem) met Jimi Hendrix when the pair were serving it up for Curtis Knight’s various R&B ensembles. The two men hit it off sufficiently well to try out a slew of period-piece studio jams?”Under The Table”, “Wipe The Sweat”, “Goodbye Bessie Mae” et al?which form the bedrock of a collector’s must-have that may be too raw in the main for latter-day Hendrix fans.

IMPOSSIBLE PRINCESS

BOTH BMG

Kylie’s career has mostly depended on tabloid smoke and mirrors; her faux gay-icon survival sustained by editors’ insistence on the illusory perfection of her arse as much as by rare good singles like “Can’t Get You Out of My Head”. That said, ’94’s Kylie Minogue, her debut for dance label Deconstruction, had moments of substance, like Arab-orchestral smash “Confide In Me”. Classical overtures, St Etienne sessions and Prefab Sprout’s “If You Don’t Love Me” on the extra CD sketch the pop folly that nearly was. Impossible Princess from ’96 (renamed Kylie Minogue after Diana’s death), including Minogue’s first lyrics and two Manic Street Preachers collaborations, is more experimental, with less tunes.

The story of this female Atlantan trio encompasses arson, excess, business wrangles and tragedy (Lisa ‘Left-Eye’ Lopes’ death in a car crash last year). Surviving this soap opera, however, is some great pop?especially this, their 1994 second album. Crazysexycool sold 11 million in the US and remains a seductive fusion of R&B with hip hop, giving production breaks to future key players like Jermaine Dupri, Puff Daddy and OutKast affiliates Organized Noise (who helm “Waterfalls”). Some smoochy hackwork, of course, but the slick environs never entirely tame TLC’s feisty vocals.