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"Flash Fearless Vs. the Zorg Women, Parts 5 & 6"
The magic of CD re-releasing brings this loosely-assembled "concept album" from the depths of 1975 to your home entertainment system - if you have the nerve. As the age of double live platters and high concept skullduggery trudged on, it seemed that any goof could assemble a passel of his rock star buddies and grab a few days of partying time in the studio.
Certainly, with the stellar though drug and booze-addled cast of "Flash Fearless," you know that the "plonk," "blow," and "good times" were flowing freely. The vague, comic book-inspired saga of Flash Fearless and his quest for universal poontang, or whatever the heck it was, was peopled by a veritable "Who's Who" of the era's rock scene, including:
Jim "Original David Lee Roth" Dandy, of then hot salt of the mud Southern rockers Black Oak Arkansas.
Alice Cooper, who possibly may not even remember his sole appearance on the album highlight "I'm Flash."
John Entwistle, whose own excesses were only made to seem conservative by the Herculean indulgences of his more dissipated bandmates in The Who.
Kenney Jones, ex-Small Face, latter day Who drummer.
Bill Bruford - prog-oriented drummer for hire.
Justin Hayward - the man who, along with The Fifth Dimension, commercialized LSD experiences for the mass audience. If Timothy Leary was the Johnny Appleseed Of Acid, Hayward was definitely Ray Kroc.
Eddie Jobson - prog-oriented violinist for hire.
Nicky Hopkins - a definitive session man, Hopkins twiddled his ivories in a dozen odd bands that just happened to be some of the planet's biggest and best, from the Stones to Quicksilver Messenger Service.
Carmine Appice - non prog-oriented drummer for hire.
Also present was perennial UK singing star Elkie Brooks, most famous now for being in the late Robert Palmer's old band, Shotgun Express.
The record was based on a currently-running live rock musical that was obviously intended to cash in on the cult frenzy slowly being created by the live spectacle of the Rocky Horror Show and its movie spinoff, but whether it had too many space pirates or too few singing transvestites, it wasn't a sliver of the hit that Rocky was. "Flash Fearless" was first performed live on popular radio show "The King Biscuit Flower Hour" in 1974.
With all those meta-session men present, the recording itself is tightly executed. Though none of the tracks come close to equaling the appeal of "Rocky" or even "Phantom Of The Paradise," a couple of numbers stand out, most notably the semi-anthemic "I'm Flash," and the rocking "Space Pirates," overbrimming with that rarified 1975 nastiness that would soon spawn the Frankenstein creature called "punk rock." Only one-number, the Black Oak Arkansas-derived "Country Cookin'" with Jim Dandy, seems grossly out of place, thus perhaps making it one of the more memorable cuts from this curious slab, if only by default.
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"Torme"
No doubt all you true blue hipsters out there already rushed out and got this album on its recent release, but if you didn't, there's still hope for you. Read on, baby.
The "Torme" CD retrospective is a reverent look back at a time when this classic and consummate crooner was completely in his element. Even as troops died horribly in Korea, and the specter of the hydrogen bomb hung over civilization, swingers everywhere looked to Torme's smoother than smooth vocal stylings - plus a stiff highball or three - to make a harsh, uncertain life that much more bearable.
The smoky, fluent instrument that was Torme's million dollar voice was renowned, in its time, for making weak women wet and strong men think suave thoughts. Here was a singer who may not have had the raw animal ambiguity of Frank Sinatra, or the neurosis-laced vulnerability of Johnnie Ray, but still faced his share of challenges, all of the assorted highs and lows somehow finding themselves into his art.
Yes, kids, before the wacky "get-with-it" covers of Donovan and The Turtles, long a staple of most "Golden Throat" type collections, before the wacky "Kramer is a retard" episode of Seinfeld, man, the Mel-meister was one swingin' cat. As the black and white 1950s cross-dissolved into the Technicolor 60s, Torme was knockin' out a squadron of supremely swingin' sides for both the Verve and Bethlehem labels, and this material forms the bulk of this CD.
Ever the perfect and seamless balladeer, Torme floats just like his nickname, "The Velvet Fog," from bouncy jive-fests like "I'm Shooting High," and "I'm Gonna Laugh You Out Of My Life," to more somber ballads like "These Desperate hours" and "Gloomy Sunday" on this near-essential assemblage.
But "Torme," though satisfying, is unfortunately not all just a carton of Kools and a hi-de ho. To its detriment, the CD sequences the up and downbeat numbers with little regard for the emotional dynamics of the entertainment consumer, making it perhaps not the ideal bachelor pad standby that a full album of either style would provide.
Still, this is an exhilarating sonic glimpse into a golden period of one of America's best-loved male vocalist icons, and if you've only heard the silly stuff, this might be a good place to start for those looking to get into the more sophisticated side of a man whose heart was most definitely on his well-tailored sleeve during the Cold War era and beyond.
To contact Rotwang, e-mail mono_d@hotmail.com
