Bonnie Raitt: "Fundamental" (Capitol)
When an album kicks off with "let's run naked though these city streets" you know you've gone back to basics. The Fundamental Things, the title track of this album, certainly does that - and, indeed, so does the entire album, which is blues-based, slinky as the snake in the "wet, cold grass" and, at times, so stripped down it's not just naked but non-existent. Much the best are Raitt's own songs, like Spirit Of Love, with great lyrics like "I'm roasting on that spit of love again" and even better guitar lines from Raitt herself. Meet Me Halfway succeeds very well, with Bonnie setting her beady eye on lovers who, well, obviously go round and round but never meet. As she sings, "It ain't about the sex/I'd trade the roses and the negligees/If we could just connect." Now, that is the blues. But too often on this album the hellhound on Raitt's tail sounds more like a puppy dog.
By Joe Jackson
Twentieth Century Blues: "The Songs Of Noel Coward" (EMI)
It's easy to see why so many rock stars are suddenly rushing to celebrate the life, and to a lesser extent, the music of Noel Coward. No, not because he's one of pop culture's long-forgotten gay icons, or, as Noel Gallagher has said, one of the founding fathers of Britpop. More than all this, he was as big a snob as most rock stars are. At least those who, like Coward, claw their way from "humble backgrounds" and probably secretly belittle all they left behind. One suspects that Coward himself would hate this ill-conceived, mish-mash of cover versions by the likes of Texas, The Divine Comedy, Paul McCartney, Sting, all the usual suspects; though Marianne Faithfull does redeem Mad About The Boy. Songs like London Pride reek of el Coward's xenophobia, though that, too, is something I bet a lot of Britpop stars relate to. Pass. An exercise in ego-indulgence.
By Joe Jackson
Page & Plant: "Walking Into Clarksdale" (Mercury)
Old Zep-head that I am, I'd love nothing better than to see Jimmy Page and Robert Plant walk back into glory and wield that legendary hammer of the gods once again. Alas, nearly 20 years have passed since the demise of Led Zeppelin, and though Page and Plant haven't lost the knack, it would be unfair to expect a replication of their former greatness. This album of entirely new material follows the duo's successful No Quarter project, and is an admirably energetic effort from two old bulls who should by rights have run out of steam long ago. The pair's pool of ideas hasn't run dry, but their blues-based rock is beginning to get a little stagnant, and the Eastern influences are starting to feel a bit well-trodden. It's uncannily like listening to a new Led Zeppelin album. eja vu; however, Walking Into Clarksdale is more In Through The Out Door than Zep IV, and songs like Shining In The Light, Upon A Golden Horse, Blue Train and Most High tend to meander through a series of extended guitar-and-vocal jams.
By Kevin Courtney
