Creed - Weathered (2001)

The week Creed released their fourth album, Weathered, lead vocalist Scott Stapp mentioned in an interview that they didn't really care about the widespread critical disdain for his group, since Led Zeppelin wasn't appreciated either -- not until they released their fourth album in 1971, that is. Stapp's assessment is a little off; Zeppelin never really enjoyed good reviews by most of the rock-crit establishment -- at least until 1988 when Zep-mania gripped the nation and even prompted Rolling Stone to put Robert Plant on the cover -- but his sentiment is right on target since he's saying Creed isn't a band for the critics, they simply do what they do and the proof that they're right is in the millions of fans. Well, Creed certainly isn't a critic's band, but not because critics hate heavy rock -- grunge sorta blew that bugaboo out of the water when it became mandatory to take anybody with heavy guitars seriously -- but because Creed simply works very earnestly within a tradition without ever expanding it, without ever adding humor or even cracking a smile. R.E.M. and U2 may have had the weight of the world on their shoulders during the first Bush era, but they lightened up occasionally. Creed never does. They are a very serious band, realizing that the world is very serious, so music is a serious business, a way of expressing their faith, passion, yearning, and love -- all things that are quite serious so they should be treated seriously. Their hearts are in the right place -- let it never be said that they're only in this for the money or the fame; they even advertise Stapp's With Arms Wide Open Foundation charity in the liner notes -- but the earnestness in their approach is magnified by their resolutely unimaginative neo-grunge. Try as they may -- and they do, bringing in the Tallahasee Boys' Choir for "Don't' Stop Dancing," incorporating a Cherokee Indian prayer on "Who's Got My Back," sprinkling the album with some keyboards, and stretching out to near-epic lengths occasionally -- they don't break from that template, and to all but the hardcore, this is simply another Creed record, one that has the same faults or virtues, depending on your viewpoint. And that's why Creed isn't Led Zeppelin, even though both were slagged by critics, say what you may, Zeppelin changed on each of those first four records, where Creed has stayed the same. (This does get the honorary Fred Durst's Chocolate Starfish award for worst album cover of the year, however.)

The Rose Garden - A Trip Through The Garden (1967 - 68)

Omnivore's 2018 A Trip Through the Garden: The Rose Garden Collection is the first thorough compilation assembled on the California folk-rock quintet, containing all of their eponymous 1967 debut -- previously, that was the only Rose Garden music to reach CD -- along with alternate mixes and takes, rehearsals, acetate versions, and five live tracks recorded at Canoga Park's Chaminade High School in 1967. The lack of Rose Garden compact discs could be down to how they had only one hit single: "Next Plane to London," which climbed to number 17 in the fall of 1967. A Trip Through the Garden fills out the story, underscoring how the Rose Garden were very much a band of their time and place, quite proudly displaying their debt to the Byrds. All of their eponymous debut and the assorted ephemera on the disc recall the sweeter, folkier elements of the Byrds, but the connection is deepest with Gene Clark. The Rose Garden cut two Clark songs that are otherwise unavailable: the tuneful jangle of "Long Time" and the proto country-rocker "Till Today." These two songs, along with the mellow effervescence of "Next Plane to London," are the highlights of the album and the comp, rivaled only by a crunchy version of Neil Young's "Down to the Wire" and the five live cuts, which are much tougher than anything else heard on the CD (they also contain two additional Byrds covers in "So You Want to Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star" and "She Don't Care About Time"). Saving these cuts, the Rose Garden are a pleasant period artifact: gentle, hazy, and light, so light they float away on a breeze.

John Cale - Helen of Troy (1975)

The supporting crew on Cale's final Island album makes for a lineup that could never have happened again -- at least, in terms of future results, imagining, among others, Cale, Chris Spedding, Brian Eno, and Phil Collins once more in the same room together seems totally unlikely. Regardless of the oddity, Cale once again led a great ensemble band (Spedding now having fully taken over from Manzanera on guitar) through another set of great, inspiring songs. Whoever is putting in the guitar solos, Spedding or Cale, sometimes misfires, sometimes succeeds brilliantly -- consider opening song "My Maria," where the earlier efforts are intrusive but the concluding parts a perfect addition to the building smack of the song. Cale's songs generally tend towards the uneasy throughout, his sometimes strained but never forced singing, high volume at points, making the most of the material. The atmosphere of the album as a whole is perhaps the most band-oriented of the three Island records, with further arrangements sounding like additions more than intrinsic parts of the songs. It's not a criticism, though, more an interesting experiment with often strong results, like the strident horns and heavily treated noise on the title track. "I Keep a Close Watch" is the secret emotional sucker punch on Helen of Troy -- Cale long harbored a sadly unfulfilled dream that Frank Sinatra might cover it, and there's little doubt why. Taking the opening line from Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line" as inspiration, with a much different thematic intent, it's an unabashedly romantic number with a great string and horn arrangement. There are, again, gentler moments that call to mind earlier tributes to the Beach Boys here and there, such as "China Sea," along with a great rendition of Jonathan Richman's "Pablo Picasso." Overall, Helen of Troy finds Cale at his edgiest, with fascinating results.

Jefferson Airplane - Utica NY (1969)

Jefferson Airplane was an American rock band based in San Francisco, California that became one of the pioneering bands of psychedelic rock. Formed in 1965, the group defined the San Francisco Sound and was the first from the Bay Area to achieve international commercial success. They were headliners at the Monterey (1967), Woodstock (1969), Altamont (1969), and the first Isle of Wight Festival (1968) in England. Their 1967 break-out album Surrealistic Pillow ranks on the short list of the most significant recordings of the Summer of Love. Two songs from that album, "Somebody to Love"[2] and "White Rabbit", are among Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Songs of All Time".

The October 1966 to February 1970 lineup of Jefferson Airplane, consisting of Marty Balin (vocals), Paul Kantner (guitar, vocals), Grace Slick (vocals), Jorma Kaukonen (lead guitar, vocals), Jack Casady (bass), and Spencer Dryden (drums), was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1996.[3] Marty Balin left the band in 1971. After 1972, Jefferson Airplane effectively split into two groups. Kaukonen and Casady moved on full-time to their own band, Hot Tuna. Slick, Kantner, and the remaining members of Jefferson Airplane recruited new members and regrouped as Jefferson Starship in 1974, with Marty Balin eventually joining them. Jefferson Airplane was presented with the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2016.

East Of Eden - New Leaf (1971)

After the catastrophically unprog eponymous album on Harvest (of all labels), EOE needed to reconvene discuss their musical directions. Not sure they went ahead, though because after the Jig-A-Jig monstrous, but totally unrepresentative hit, after their semi-country rock third album, the probably were a little lost. With a very enticing sexy artwork, with a butterfly tattoo, but a relatively stable line-up (finally), this was their second album in 71, plus a bunch of singles throughout, so the least we can say was that the group was not about to profit from dole money. Amazingly enough singer David Jack is the only songwriter (even credited so on the JaJ monster instrumental hit) bar the opening track, which is rather strange since he gets sole credits on the two instrumental pieces in the bonus tracks..

Hearing the lead-off track Bradshaw the Bison Hunter, you'd swear that that EoE is back on saddle, because this track is easily much better than anything they'd done on the previous album. Alas, this wouldn't last as Bradshaw is rather unrepresentative (and the only track receiving credits other David Jack as songwriter as it boasts as a group effort) of the rest of the album. No Harm, Get Happy, Don't Be Afraid, Joe, Song For No-one, etc. are all way to close for comfort to country rock or a folky/country singer/songwriter or basic blues-rock. The rare tracks (other than Bradshaw) being worth another mention are the Man Said (strictly on private tastes), and the finale Home Blues (also on personal tastes), sounding like Free doing a good blues track, David Jack doing a credible Paul Rodgers. The least we can say is that an album such as this one have a few tracks that fit the "filler" category.

I am not aware of this album getting an EMI reissue, but there floats around a version of the semi-legit Progressive Line label, which boasts a whopping five bonus tracks, all from 71 and 72 singles. If the unmistakeable Jig-A-Jig is present (a good point, because in some ways it is prog), the remaining four tracks are A and B-sides of two singles. The first of which is Boogie Flu (a non-interesting boogie) and the much more Bach-like Last Dance Of The Clown, an excellent track that should've answered JaJ's success. The later Sin City Girls single is lesser interest (about dancing shoes, puhhhleaeaeaease) and best forgotten and its flipside not deserving such a poor spectacle. All Our Yesterday is pure rip-off to the fab four, but pleasant enough to .

Little wonder after such another mediocre album (although it was better than its predecessor), violinist Dave Arbus would leave the band. And while this album is a tad better, the group is still trying to find itself, but even with the three good bonus track, this album cannot be considered as essential.

Gurnemanz - No Rays Of Noise (1977)

Gurnemanz, was a German folk rock band, who have recorded and pressed privately two excellent albums during the mid 70s. Their delightful music is somewhere between first Broeselmaschine, Hoelderlin and Ougenweide. All ingredients are there, sitar, flute, lute, lyre, mandolin etc played by master musicians, but above all is this stunning female voice of Manuela Schmitz. This is their second album, originally pressed privately in 1977, all tracks are sung in English and it includes one of the best versions of the JOHN BARLEYCORN song, ever heard. Deluxe 180g vinyl, from the original analogue master tapes, exact reproduction of the original first pressing.

Gäa - Alraunes Alptraum (1975)

The first three tracks from 1975 are from an aborted second album, and the last four were recorded about a decade later with some of Gaa's members and others. The first three are classic Gaa, similar to the Uranus material, though with better fidelity, less rough around the edges. The track "Morgendammerung," an instrumental, even stretches further out from Gaa's rock trappings. It starts with a ticking noise and slowly building keyboard tones, moves to a jazzier middle section, and then getts even more funky with a rolling bass riff and odd percussion noises. The newer tracks, recorded one per year between 1984 and 1987, are far more conventional rock & roll; "Tabbert" is excruciatingly mainstream, whereas "Du" and "Warum" are a little better, as the group attempts to capture the magic of earlier Gaa, and "Inspektion" even flirts with synth pop. Needless to say, these tracks pail compared to the 1975 stuff.