Showing posts with label Brian Tichy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brian Tichy. Show all posts

CD Review: Operation: Mindcrime – The Key

CD Review: Operation: Mindcrime – The Key
Frontiers Music srl
All Access Rating: C+

Operation: Mindcrime - The Key 2015
The sprawling concept album Operation: Mindcrime was indeed Queensryche's finest hour, a grand puzzle of progressive metal full of grandiose arrangements, sweeping drama and intelligent, socio-political storytelling. Queensryche's former singer is hoping some of the magic of his old band's most iconic work rubs off on his latest mission, which bears the same name.

Not so much a band as a collection of hired guns gathered together to help Tate realize his vision, Operation: Mindcrime borrows the talents of Megadeth's Dave Ellefson, John Moyer (Disturbed, Adrenaline Mob), drummers Simon Wright (AC/DC) and Brian Tichy (Billy Idol, Ozzy Osbourne) and seemingly a cast of thousands on the elegant mess called The Key, said to be part one of an epic musical trilogy from Tate and released by Frontiers Music srl.

An enormous undertaking, The Key is ambitious, thought-provoking and cinematic in scope, and the chord progressions, strings and deep bass grooves establish a dark and stylish environment for a series of scenes addressing the question: What would happen if a key was found that could completely alter our perception of the world? The crunching, surging riffs and building drama of "Burn" and "Re-inventing the Future" that follow in the wake of the soaring, orchestral opener "Choice" all suggest the high expectations for The Key were warranted. This is where the engine stalls.

Quickly losing focus, its jumble of interesting ideas never quite pulling off the jaw-dropping tricks its set of musical magicians promise, The Key devolves and flatlines. "Ready to Fly" meanders about without any real sense of purpose or direction, as if sleepwalking through an empty park in the wee hours of the morning. Just as rudderless, the proggy indulgences of "On Queue" and "An Ambush of Sadness" are set adrift instrumentally without any hope of rescue. And choruses destined for greatness end up ineffectual and formless, as is the case with "Hearing Voices," a chunky, heavy riot of Rage Against The Machine-like stomp that ends up stammering like a petulant child.

Still possessing a powerful, expressive voice and a gift for bold theatrics, Tate has time to fix this, with two more acts yet to play out. Getting all these disparate pieces to fit together logically, allowing for greater flow and fewer stumbles, might be his biggest challenge.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Lynch Mob – Rebel

CD Review: Lynch Mob – Rebel
Frontiers Music srl
All Access Rating: B+

Lynch Mob - Rebel 2015
What exactly is Lynch Mob rebelling against? Like Marlon Brando in "The Wild One," Oni Logan and former Dokken shredder George Lynch might answer, "Whaddya got?"

On their upcoming release, the ruggedly heavy, riff-mongering Rebel, Lynch Mob comes out fighting against social and economic injustice, as Logan pulls no punches in fiery diatribes against "Dirty Money" and the "Kingdom of Slaves" such inequality creates. His heart is in the right place, as he passionately pounds the pulpit to deliver these righteous tirades with a husky, bluesy wail that's soulful and commanding.

Those rough-and-tumble vocals get a workout in Rebel, brawling with and sweating through the sunny, metallic funk of "Pine Tree Avenue" and "Jelly Roll" in sweltering, grungy Southern-rock heat – all of which is also found in the snaking grooves of "Dirty Money." The slow boil of opener "Automatic Fix," an ode to the spiritual power of rock 'n' roll, heats up Rebel, before Lynch Mob gets down and dirty in the burning blues of "Between The Truth and a Lie."

On the other hand, the dark carnival of "The Hollow Queen" is rather dreamy and surreal, revealing a more gothic side to a quartet that includes the veteran rhythm section of ex-Dokken bassist Jeff Pilson and drummer Brian Tichy (Whitesnake, Billy Idol, Slash). Similarly cast, "The Ledge" is unexpectedly lush and pretty, standing as a contrast to the weighty, ponderous stomps of Rebel and its occasionally awkward and mechanical labor. Nevertheless, Rebel is good and meaty rock 'n' roll with strong songwriting that is doing more than merely getting by on its attitude, honesty and heart. And it doesn't hurt that Lynch clearly isn't resting on his laurels, his searing soloing as razor-sharp as ever and his inventive riffs gassing up Rebel, due out on Frontiers Music srl, for a hell of a ride.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Sweet & Lynch – Only to Rise

CD Review: Sweet & Lynch – Only to Rise
Frontiers Music Srl
All Access Rating: A-

Sweet & Lynch - Only to Rise 2015
It is 2015, isn't it? Seemingly from a different era, when glam-metal was king and Michael Sweet and George Lynch were lords of the Sunset Strip, Only to Rise is a debut album of towering melodic hard-rock spires from Sweet & Lynch.

While unabashedly raising a toast to the good ol' days, it's Sweet's penchant for yearning, grandiose melodies that makes this set actually seem timeless and not at all dated. Still, in many ways, Only to Rise certainly could be considered a time capsule from the mid-1980s.

Pairing a very busy Stryper front man with the equally hard-working ex-Dokken guitar shredder, Only to Rise soars on clarion vocals, generous hooks and sugary guitar crunch from Lynch, his riffs solid as bedrock, while he solos like a heat-seeking missile – all of it lending these songs the blazing thrust of NASA booster rockets. Adding more force and muscular drive to Only to Rise is the top-notch rhythm section of bassist James Lomenzo (Megadeth, White Lion) and drummer Brian Tichy (Whitesnake), two names that probably deserve some mention on the marquee alongside Sweet & Lynch.

Aside from the dreamy, if slightly schmaltzy, ballad "Me Without You," Only to Rise has big rock aspirations, building skyscrapers out of bittersweet anthems like "The Wish" – suffused with nostalgia for the Hollywood they remember – and "Dying Rose" in a matter of minutes, and doing likewise with "Recover," where Sweet nails difficult high notes like a champ.



With its juxtaposition of smoldering, bluesy verses and radiant, psychedelic chorus, "Divine" opens up the shutters and lets in a stream of light, while tracks like "Rescue Me," "Love Stays" and "Time Will Tell" build to amplified crescendos, flowing together beautifully like wild, swollen rivers that bring arena-rock floods somehow contained by the sandbags of superb songcraft and emboldened by strong, modern production values that bridge the present with the past. Had the '80s produced more of this, that party might have lasted a little longer. http://www.frontiers.it/
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Whitesnake – Made in Britain/The World Record

CD Review: Whitesnake – Made in Britain/The World Record
Frontiers Records
All Access Review: A-

Whitesnake - Made in
Britain/The World Record 2013
David Coverdale is not a man without a country. He calls two of them home.

Always the charming rascal, with lust in his heart, a bawdy sense of humor and the restless, romantic heart of a drifter – the type of character he seems to identify with the most – perpetually looking for true love, Coverdale is English through and through, even if he now has dual citizenship in the United States. He probably stills takes his tea in the afternoon.

Taken literally, the title to the new package of rousing live recordings from pop-metal warhorse Whitesnake is self-explanatory. Undoubtedly it refers to material culled from a massive 2011 tour that included nine sold-out U.K. shows and as many as 87 other concerts from around the globe for the boisterous, pulse-pounding Made in Britain/The World Record, but it could just as well describe Coverdale the man – worldly, cultured and yet clearly a product of his native environment.

Ever the likeable rogue, Coverdale is in his element on the 25-track, two-disc Made in Britain/The World Record, singing with surprising clarity and as soulfully as ever – especially on wistful, beautifully rendered versions of “Fare Thee Well” and a softly acoustic “One of These Days,” the warm rasp in his voice dripping with nostalgia and longing. Time hasn’t ravaged his voice one bit; it still rings out clearly amid the bluster and charged electricity this Whitesnake outfit brings to classics like “Fool for Your Loving,” “Bad Boys” and an exuberant, testosterone-fueled “Slide it In” that practically reeks of cheap sex – just as Coverdale intended.

Radioactive meltdowns occur as Whitesnake takes on Deep Purple’s “Soldier of Fortune” and a satisfying medley of “Burn” and “Stormbringer” to end the set, but they mean business when they grind away, like a desperate stripper short on rent money, in “Lay down Your Love” and “Snake Dance.” Much like those two STD-infested sonic brothels of pure bluesy nastiness, both of them sleazier and more infectious than the originals, “Can You Hear the Wind Blow” certainly smolders and “My Evil Ways” smokes, with mean, biting riffage courtesy of guitarists Reb Beach and Doug Aldrich, whose slide guitar work in the intro to “My Evil Ways” has an edgy drawl and sharp aspect to it.

Without their heaviness, their feel, their stylistic diversity, their vibrant tones and rich variety of orgasmic solos, Made in Britain/The World Record wouldn’t be nearly as vital or as fiery, and when melody and harmonies are called for, as they are on “Here I Go Again,” “Love Ain’t No Stranger,” “Is This Love” and “Give Me All Your Love,” Beach and Aldrich play with style and taste, making their presence known but not in an overbearing manner. The songs are allowed to breathe, as the six-string killers sneak around stealthily under dark, spellbinding atmospheres, like that which envelopes parts of “Still of the Night.” They make the epic arrangements of “Forevermore,” off the 2011 album of the same name, soar, but without the remarkably dynamic drumming of Brian Tichy, a definite star in the making, they would go nowhere.

A worthy and quick successor to Made in Japan, an equally dazzling, if not quite as expansive, Whitesnake live album released earlier this year, Made in Britain/The World Record will seduce and overpower longtime fans and new converts alike with superb sound and indefatigable instrumental vigor. http://www.frontiers.it/
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Michael Shenker "Temple of Rock"

CD Review: Michael Shenker "Temple of Rock"
Inakustik
All Access Review: A-


A shrine built of molten, rampaging riffs and burning solos – all infused with subtle melodic touches and flourishes – Temple of Rock is an all-out shred-a-thon from one of metal’s most enduring and admired guitar slingers. Pulling out all the stops, Michael Schenker unleashes a fast and furious sonic bombardment that sweetly and majestically explodes on impact in tracks like the “How Long,” “Storming In,” “The End of an Era” and “Fallen Angel,” and if this Temple of Rock is, indeed, a place of worship, perhaps it could also serve as a sanctuary for a man beset by turmoil in both his personal and public life.

A cult hero to serious fans of metal, Schenker is also a cautionary tale, an extraordinary talent whose alcoholism and health issues, not to mention his onstage blowups with UFO and revolving-door personnel changes in the Michael Schenker Group, almost completely derailed his career. There almost at the beginning with The Scorpions, founded by his older brother Rudolf in 1965, Schenker lent his burgeoning axe work to the band’s 1972 debut Lonesome Crow. While on tour with The Scorpions in support of Lonesome Crow, headliners UFO witnessed Schenker’s six-string sorcery. Under his spell, the British hard-rock survivors beamed him aboard as a replacement for Bernie Marsden, himself a temporary fill-in for departed original member Mike Bolton.

Schenker’s tenure with UFO was tumultuous, to say the least, spanning the years between 1974’s Phenomenon and 1979’s classic steamroller of a live LP Strangers in the Night. All the while, critics, blown away by Schenker’s blazing fretwork, lined up around the block to hail this guitar phenomenon, with the rest of UFO becoming engulfed by the large shadow he cast. Tensions ran high, and there were nights when it all came to a head. On a few occasions, Schenker was reported to have walked off the stage in the middle of a show. By 1978, he’d had enough, and for a brief period, Schenker rejoined The Scorpions, injecting Lovedrive’s “Another Piece of Meat,” “Coast to Coast” and the title track with a potent shot of lead guitar Viagra.

In the years since, Schenker has fronted his own project, the Michael Schenker Group, which for a time became the McAuley-Schenker Group. But, when UFO set about making the comeback record Walk on Water in 1995, Schenker couldn’t resist re-upping for another tour of duty. Eventually, though, Schenker would return to MSG, which has had its ups and downs, as has Schenker. Personnel shuffling and Schenker’s continued battles with the bottle led to inconsistent recordings and live performances, but through it all – including a bizarre episode where his wife divorced him and disappeared with his kids, and his manager’s alleged embezzlement of Schenker’s savings – the guitarist has persevered, despite a troubled 2007 tour, riddled with cancellations, that would have killed the careers of lesser artists.

Schenker, though, has apparently come out the other side a better man, and a more focused musician, as Temple of Rock bears out. Despite his problems, Schenker doesn’t seem to lack for friends. The band he assembled for Temple of Rock includes ex-Scorpion Herman Rarebell on drums, Schenker’s old UFO mate Pete Way on bass, Wayne Findlay on keyboards and Michael Voss on vocals. And that’s not all. Among the cast of thousands appearing as guest stars are keyboardist Don Airey, legendary Mountain guitarist Leslie West (who participates in a three-man guitar battle with Schenker and Michael Amott on “How Long (3 Generations Guitar Battle Version), and drum gods Carmine Appice and Brian Tichy – not to mention Captain Kirk himself, William Shatner.

But, go ahead and throw the liner notes away, because a cleaned-up, motivated Schenker was all that was needed to make guitar nerds wet their pants over this release. His solos, so fluid and smoothly executed, are sublime, and those heavy riffs of his have all the powerful thrust of booster rockets, propelling each track into the stratosphere. On the aforementioned “Fallen Angel,” Schenker assembles what seems to be a jigsaw puzzle of neon-lit guitar parts, piecing together surging, shape-shifting riffs and high-flying leads until they form a dazzling picture of an artist who isn’t afraid of complexity. Drag racing ahead is the “The End of an Era,” which showcases Schenker’s ability to combine speed, an impeccable feel for the urgency of the moment and barely harnessed energy, while he punishes “Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead” with power chords and shrouds it in a bluesy darkness that knocks at your backdoor like Perfect Strangers’-era Deep Purple did in the ‘80s.

In the quiet moments of the epic “Storming In,” Schenker adroitly navigates a tricky acoustic prelude, before a deluge of riffs comes pouring down and floods the scene. His solos here bloom like a bush of roses turned black by some demonic hand, setting the stage for the progressive-metal oddity “Scene of Crime,” a track that’s full of sonic menace and muscular rhythms that occasionally detours into Asian gardens of sound that an early Genesis might have planted.

The full breadth of Schenker’s talent and experience are on display in Temple of Rock, as the fist-pumping party anthem “Saturday Night” sits comfortably alongside the red-hot, muscle-car growl and grind of “Speed.” And if you like guitar solos the triple-threat guitar orgy of the freedom-fighting “How Long,” (3 Generations Guitar Battle Version)” featuring West and Amott, is not to be missed. This Temple of Rock is built on a bedrock foundation of classic musicianship and strong songwriting, and it houses one of the finest guitarists metal has ever known.

-Peter Lindblad

Official Michael Shenker Website: Michaelschenkerhimself.com