COOL WAYS - Kevin K and The Hollywood Stars (Rankoutsider)
The rock and roll family tree of Lower East Side garage rodent Kevin K is enough to cause even Pete Frame heartburn, the past quarter century and change a revolving door of true believers like Aunt Helen, The Toys, The Road Vultures, Trash Brats, Freddy Lynxx and The Corner Gang, The Kevin K Band, The Real Kool Kats, and now The Hollywood Stars. Along the way, he’s shared a thousand clammy club gigs with various Ramones, Dolls, Heartbreakers, and Dead Boys, shoring up a curriculum vitae that doesn’t really call for a cover letter.
But he’s never been much concerned with what the Myspace generation would call “street cred,” a craggy, tattooed Paul Westerberg gone to seed who prefers to expose his battered soul going up in flames on a discography that now bulges with 16 studio albums giving new meaning to “sleaze,” “glam,” and “grit.” If you don’t feel like you’ve woken up the morning after a rum bender face down in the gutter with moss growing on your tongue, dirt under your fingernails, bruised ribs, and a head full of matted hair after listening to any of them, then you must not have been paying attention.
The constant search and craving for that stop-dead-in-my-tracks feeling that set my world on fire as a kid is so often a fruitless one that when I do find it, I’m often prone to fauning, gushing, overstatement. So look out below: “Cool Ways” is a chugging, crunchy, sugar-coated kick in the pants, a near-perfect shake-up of guitar pop, punk swagger, and greasy swing. It makes my head spin, my liver quiver, my bladder splatter, and my heart reel. Admit it – it sounds better than sitting by your computer waiting for Radiohead to deem you worthy enough to download “In Rainbows,” doesn’t it?
With effortless aplomb, K and The Stars (drummer Pat Morgan, bassist and Streetwalkin’ Cheetah Dino Everett, guitarist Tsubasa Muratani, and saxophonist Aaron Minton) knock out feisty, peerless bubblepunk songs about girls, taking pills, and getting the hell out of town, seemingly concerned with nothing much more than reveling in the glory of ringing guitars, honking sax, rattling drums, and gooey pop hooks.
“She’s Got the Look” is a churning, good-time Stonesy stomp, “Cool Ways” and “You Tonight” would slot nicely onto a new “Yellow Pills” anthology, and “Makeup and Breakup” is the greatest song Johnny Thunders and Walter Lure never wrote, an “L.A.M.F.” outtake where the guitars snarl, spit, and hiss like feral cats trampled by rampaging circus elephants while a kindergarten class field trip screams from the bleachers. I’m not sure where K found Muratani, a swanky, pint-sized reference book of old-school licks, but he’d better keep him on a short leash.
By the time “Sick of Brick” and “Getaway” get zapped by the laser beam, there’s no doubt these guys are in a zone, on a roll of Herculean proportions, apparently eating their vitamins every day and saying their prayers every night, perhaps second guessing the bartering of their souls in exchange for a run of six straight songs to open this album they’d be hard pressed to ever equal, let alone top. When K brags “I took a pee on the Joshua tree/It made me feel like a celebrity,” it’s obvious the guy feels bulletproof.
Incredibly, there’s no discernible drop in quality control on the second half of the album although the tone is just a bit darker. “Night of the Living Dolls” is a tip of the hat to the four members of that band who have cashed in their chips, “Rehab” takes Paris Hilton and David Hasselhoff to task, and “This Is My Blood” is the sonic equivalent of K’s tombstone epitaph (“Rock and roll played poorly/Played in a hurry…Running through my veins just like mud”).
K’s production here is damn near perfect as well. It’s bright and crisp but he hasn’t sanded off all of the rough edges. The ramshackle guitars are way up in the mix and sound like a dust-up between Thunders, Keith Richards, Ron Wood, and Chuck Berry in the alley behind Max’s. The rhythm section have their say as well, spartan, economic, and in the pocket.
If only you could bottle this up and sell it… The attitude and craftsmanship that is. The disc’s available from Rankoutsider. - Clark Paull
3/4
HOLLYWOOD – Kevin K (Full
Breach Kicks)
It’s might be a truism that Kevin K is rock and roll’s best-kept secret. If you’re a regular here you’ll no doubt be sick of hearing it (and I’m sick of writing it.) But I have to say it again: Kevin K is rock and roll’s best-kept secret. So if you’re in the dark, just go with the flow and get acquainted. Trust me, it'll all be for the best.
This is glam-inflected, gritty, honest-to-goodness, mid-tempo rock and roll of the sort that white bread mainstream radio won’t touch with a whip and a stool with very long legs. So you know it’s good. “Hollywood” (like the real place) is populated by stories about partying, being fucked up or down and out, in a way that ensures this is an album that can’t be tamed (and doesn’t want to be.)
It’s Studio Album Number 15 for the New York City-raised, card-carrying alumnus of The Bowery School of The Streets and it’s right up there with the recent run of trash-punk gems. The difference this time out is that there’s a re-visited emphasis on semi-acoustic ballads - three of them, “Single Girl”, “Hollywood High” and “Heartbreak Comedy”, sit at the centre of the album – and that most of the tunes are played with four different bands or with Kevin on all instruments. Joining in are The Hollywood Stars (Streetwalkin’ Cheetah Dino Everett on bass and Roy Morgan on drums), dirty French rock and rollers The Real Kool Kats and an un-named German band (a track apiece), The St Pete All Stars (from Mr K’s semi-permanent base of Florida) and The Lower East Side Band (no prizes for guessing where they’re from; producer Patrick Klein on bass and the enigmatically-named Nolan Ramone on drums). The result is a varied but uniformly excellent output.
A couple of songs are re-heated from the past but that shouldn’t trouble too many people. “Jennifer Love Song” (a tribute to Ghost Whispering Ms Hewitt) outdoes the original and I can live with another take on “Hook Me Up”. There’s the odd clunky lyric (“The Final Damnation”) and while hankering for the Good Old Days (“Joey and Dee Dee”) won’t bring them back, it sure is fun.
The credited closer, “Circle of Thieves”, is a 1988 Hollywood demo with Kevin on drums and his late brother and Road Vultures bandmate Alan K on bass, guitar and voice. It’s a curious, trippy tune with treated tape loops and a scorching solo. A nice final statement. There’s actually an uncredited bonus track that’s pretty cool too.
Punk rock might be your staple but don’t worry about there being an acoustic centrepiece to this album. My money’s on them and the other (amped-up) songs being written somewhere on a train or tour van in Kevin’s second home of Europe or in his more recent stamping ground of the Mid-West. It’s all in the delivery and the guy imbues everything he plays with a heartfelt honesty.
While I can’t concur with Mr K’s self-description of “loser”, I want to take him at his word that he’s happy. The bus for rock stardom might have left the terminal years ago when the Road Vultures were jostling with all those other potential Next Big Things back in New York City, but there’s still an audience for music that means it. If you’re switched on enough to be part of that crowd, look no further. - The Barman
1/2
ROCKIN
ROLL DYNAMITE – Kevin K (Full
Breach Kicks)
Mr Prolific is back - and for the last time with his French band
The Real Kool Kats. It seems the demands of incessant touring and putting out
four albums a year (without any diminution of quality) convinced everyone it
was time to de-convene. While that’s a pity, this album is a fine postscript
that stays true to their collective Kool Kats creed of dirty street punk rock
delivered with the precision of a well-oiled switchblade.
Mr K hisself slips behind the kit for almost half the tunes but the core of
this is a return to the familiar line-up of twin guitars, bass and drums,
with the band leader handling vocals in his own distinctive style. If you don’t
know what the deal is, this is as good as anywhere to start. Kevin K sits firmly
at the place where punk-glam meets street punk-sleaze. Mostly straight-up and
occasionally on the rocks, it packs a wallop that’s on a par with anyone
else staking this turf.
While the focus was on working in Europe, I reckon Kevin K’s music became
more abrasive. The melodic touches of his past records with his ‘80s crew,
the Road Vultures, are played down on “Rockin Roll Dynamite” is a
musical world away from the solo “Magic Touch” album of the
early ‘90s.
The grit’s most evident on the title track "Lie in a Ditch",
where a grinding rhythm locks in with the savage meshing of six string gears.
"Life in a Ditch" does its level best to simulate same with stun-volume sustain
guitars and abjectly simple lyrics. On others, like “Going
Nowhere Fast”, there’s a renewed commitment to a Ramonesian wall-of-sound
with a light dusting of vocal harmonies – although
without da Bruddas’ latter-day speedcore pacings. Now, what’s the
saying about taking the boy out of New York…?
Native New Yorker that he is, it’s no surprise then that Mr K and (US)
band recently hosted a Johnny Thunders tribute night at a venue in his current
home state of Florida. The Thunders association is a blessing or a curse, but
the message here is that the guy holds up in his own right, while still carrying
a musical torch for J. Genzales.
For you, "I was a Teenage Pig" is a cute song title, but for Kevin K it's a rocking
throwback to Staten Island. "Hillbilly Man" incorporates scarifying slide guitar
to drop a hint that Kevin's been borrowing country records from his mate Brian
"Trash Brats" Oblivion's collection.
"Old School" takes it away from the backroads and back to the streets with a
driving metal feel and a declaration of proud rock dog curmudgeon 'tood.
Ya gets 10 originals and two covers for your money (one of the latter a sprawling
but still potent regurgitation of “Death Trip”, the Stooges’ ode
to shuffling off this mortal coil). I'm not counting "She", a co-write
with his late brother Alan K reprised from Road Vultures days. There’s
also a hidden extra that veers into shockabilly territory. Like Johnny T,
Kevin K knows from what side of the ditch his musical inspirations sprang,
and launches into a roughhouse cover of 1950s Louisiana rock and roll pioneer
Paul Gayten’s “For
You My Love”. Rockin'! -
The Barman
1/2
PERFECT
SIN - Kevin K and the Real Kool Kats (Full
Breach Kicks)
No sooner do I retrospectively lay my mitts on a copy of "Sealed
Works" from a few years back than another - new - album comes gushing
out of the pipeline, courtesy of the one-man music industry that is Kevin
K. Like London
buses, it seems there'll be another one along any minute. Of course the important
distinction is that the ride with Kevin K is infinitely more interesting.
Lesser rockers would be fearful of diluting their, uh, market through unleashing
(excuse the clumsy Dolls pun) "too much, too soon". Not so Kevin
K, who not only doesn't appear to give a rat's arse, but manages to maintain
the quality. Some people we could name would be happy to own outtakes that
rock this well.
Referencing the Ramones, the Heartbreakers and his own Road Vultures, Kevin
K drags willing fans on a trip through the underbelly of streetlife. There's
the odd lyrical borrowing from the Heartbreakers as well as the Stooges ("What
It Takes"), as well as odes to recreation ("I Want Some Drugs"),
old friends ("Hey Is Dee Dee Home?") and ex-girlfriends ("Perfect
Sin"). File under Melodic Punk.
The Real Kool Kats are still K's French backing band and they sound better
with every studio outing. Seemingly now restored to a four-piece, twin-guitar
line-up, they blast out these 13 rockin' tunes with the dexterity that only
living in the same cramped tour van can bring.
It's an un-buffed, hip-shaking and timeless attack, lightened by the mid-disc
acoustic "Hanging on the Eight Ball" and a sax-enhanced, R &
B cruiser, "Life After You", that's so lean you can see its ribcage.
Be warned: The closer (and this album's cover) is a reverb-clouded but volatile
take on Johnny Rivers' "Secret Agent Man" that dances up a shitstorm.
It's becoming a tired theme, this contention that Kevin K is underground rock
and roll's best kept secret, but it's a freak flag that we'll continue to
fly until we punch our card for the last time, hang up the keyboard and turn
to fertiliser. Like us, they might be a small deal in the multi-national scheme
of things, but full marks to US label Full Breach Kicks for showing
the same degree of faith and releasing this in Kevin's homeland. Now go
and order a copy from them and see if I'm wrong.- The
Barman
1/2
MR BONES - Kevin K (Realkat
Records)
Kevin K's nailed what he does. And that's make monstrously good rock and
roll records. If you agree and you're a fan, pride yourself in the knowledge
that you've found out what the rest of the world has yet to.
Is this a nine-tune album or a 27-minute mini-album? Doesn't matter much and
nor should it bother anyone that, stylistically , it's on the same path as
the last three releases. The transplanted New Yorker (he divides his time
between France and Florida) grinds out grimy, street anthems with lots of
guitar and (in this case) a huge bottom end.
No surprise then to see Kevin's French bass player Patrick Klein twiddled
the knobs, but have no fear - the guitar edge is never buried but left exposed
and raw. Speaking of, The Real Kool Kats, the Franco backing band, appears
to have shed a second guitarist, at least for this recording, which leaves
it all up to Mr K. "Mr Bones" doesn't suffer for lack of six-string
raunch (or from too many overdubs). More albums should sound this good and
unencumbered by the studio shine that idiot record companies love to apply.
Like the best rock and roll, it's simple songs, for the most part built upon
a gnarly riff or two, played without affectation. Check out "White Trash",
almost relentless in its mid-tempo thud and grinding guitar figure. There's
the odd detour along the way - "Crack House" chugs along at breakneck
pace and would be almost radio-friendly if the cute chorus wasn't about, uh,
a Lower East Side crack house. A cover of "Up to My Neck" will please
Acca Dacca fans (I'm not one of the millions but I'll tolerate them, just
to keep the peace). I'm not familiar with the acoustic "Cherry Vanilla"
but it sits well as a change of pace.
Some take issue with Kevin K's vocalising, tagging him as another Thunders
soundalike. That's a lazy call and sells the guy way short. It's also drawing
a long bow to compare the pair as guitarists because there's not many intersections
other than they both hail from NYC and played the same dives.
The galling thing (still) is that Kevin's largely an unknown quantity in his
homeland - although a smattering of shows in the US in 2004 at least put him
back on the map after extensive time in Europe.
As an aside, it was heartening recently to receive email from another Aussie
who was busy spinning Kevin K discs and charging his glass. If only a local
label would pick up the licensing, we might get a sniff of a tour.
If all of the above is enough to convince you that it's time the rest of the
world caught up with Kevin K, this disc might just be the best place to start.
There's more than enough flesh on the bones to keep you satisfied and the
rock and roll heart is beating strong. -
The Barman
NEW
YORK, NEW YORK: THE BEST OF KEVIN K – Kevin K (Lollipop
Records)
Another Kevin K album, this one a “Best of” out of France,
and the obvious question remains: Why isn’t Mr K in the firmament as
one of underground rawk’s best-known stars? The guy’s consistency
over fuck-knows-how-many albums is staggering, and all of these tunes are
‘keepers’.
With any highlights compilation you can quibble about what’s missing
but, seriously, what’s the point? The stuff that is here is all good,
often great, and that’s what you need to know. And here’s a heads-up:
I’m a fan and I only know half these songs! That’s a measure of
the man’s prolific nature since his Road Vultures days, and maybe also
of his ability to operate below the music industry’s radar on his own
(frugal) terms. The K hoes a row rich in buzz-edged, raunchy guitar, mid-tempo
glam-rock-punk, with vocals not a million miles from those of the late John
Genzales (or Thunders to most of us). It’s gritty and streetwise and
you should delve into it. Often.
Kevin K paid his (and someone else’s) dues s in the early-‘80s
with bands in Buffalo, NY, before moving closer to the New York City action
by relocating to Staten Island. The next band, the aforementioned Road Vultures
(whose ranks included late brother Alan K), moved in the same circles as Johnny
Thunders et al, and became a fixture on the Lower East Side scene. Their status
as house band at The Continental Divide yielded supports to just about any
cool act you can name. Kevin’s subsequent solo career has based him
in NYC and Europe (though he prefers the warmer climes of Florida, by all
accounts).
So to the disc and this is full-blown guitar raunch from the get-go. “Crime
Scene” is pretty much straight-up, mid-tempo rock and roll. No frills
but earnest, with an economical solo. You can apply the same epithets to most
of the songs that follow – they’re timeless, in a way, and proof
that you don’t need to splurge on expensive studios or overdo the arrangements
to come up with something simple and pure.
“Lonely Girl” (with strings! no less) is from Kevin’s most
commercial release, the criminally ignored “Magic Touch”, and
glitters like a diamond in a Lower East Side gutter. Just in case you’re
nodding off, “Story of My Life” bursts out of the speakers with
a crunch. The ‘50s-tarred “Heartbroken Again” gives a clue
to what Kevin K was listening to on the radio when he was growing up and rides
home on the back of a beefy harp-and-horn part.
“Bon Voyage” (the closer, naturally) is the sole unreleased track
and doesn’t deviate far from most of what’s gone before. I understandably
lean towards the more recent stuff here (in this case, familiarity breeds
respect) but the less recognisable songs keep bringing me back. Guess that
means it’s a winner. –
The Barman
13th
STREET ACID MIX b/w WINDOWS OF TIME (EXTENDED MIX) – Kevin
K and The Real Kool Kats (In Cold Blood)
It’s not on vinyl as far as I know so it’s not reviewed in the
Singles Bar. It’ll be dubbed a CD single until we’re told otherwise
and it might be the strangest release to come out of the should-be hit factory
that is Kevin K.
The title tune is an acid house (!) take on the title track of Kevin K’s
winning album from New York’s mean streets, and it sounds like it was
packaged up for the Eurotrash market. Pictures of sneering French leather
freaks getting down in some dank Lyon disco spring to mind. It might just
be the strangest thing to sit in the I-94 Bar’s rotel for many a day.
The second track is more typically Kevin K, although running it out to 4mins
is stretching it. – The Barman
ADDICTION
– Kevin K and the Real Kool Kats (Lollipop)
With Australian label Vicious Kitten no more, someone Down Under has
to fly the flag for Kevin K, a true standard bearer for the New York Bowery
music scene and someone with something to say. That Mr K does so with feet
variously planted in his old stamping ground of New York City, his sometime
home of Florida, occasionally Japan and, more often than not, Europe, with
various local backing bands in tow, is an indictment of the wider musical
world rather than an indicator of a guy with severe wanderlust.
"Addiciton" might throw up a few familiar themes (the loss of the
Bowery scene and some notable punk rockers, cautionary tales of smack and
having a good time – not all at the same time, and more about all that
later). It's also Kevin's strongest album to date (though I've still not heard
"Sealed Works" so maybe a verdict is premature). His French band,
The Real Kool Kats, sound as tough as last week's steak Provencal with the
guitars mixed right up front. Shining through, however, is an innate sense
of melody (apparent ever since Mr K was a Road Vulture, it must be said) that
lifts it all above the level of your bog standard guitar rock.
So does Kevin's sense of humour, from the Dante's Inferno-themed CD slick
(wall-to-wall skeletons) to the portrait of St Jude (patron saint of Lost
Causes) inside. The four dinner table skeletons (variously tagged as Stiv,
Johnny, Dee Dee and Jerry Nolan) on the inner tray give the game away if you
haven't twigged by now.
NYC's musical decline and drugs are the overriding themes. On the former,
"Whores of Babylon" borrows lines from some of the great tunes of
the NY punk scene with a lyrical reminder ("What a time/What a place/Changed
the world/From their space") that most of what remains is a pale imitation.
As for the junk – well, five originals of the 13 songs (six if you count
the title track's reprise) make direct references to The Hard Stuff –
and that's just in the titles. Not that "Cretin Heroin" tells anyone
to go out and hit up the stuff (and "Lethal Injection" is a pounding
surf intro, al la Thunders' pipeline). Then again, there's the sole cover
– a stinging take on the Heartbreakers' "One Track Mind" (and
we know what sort of tracks were on THEIR collective minds). Without getting
all Walter Mitty-ish, it adds some grime via delivers a matter-of-fact warning,
rather than a sermon. Airplay was clearly a futile objective anyway.
The Real Kool Kats are pretty much a very good pub band that you or I should
be more than happy catching at our local watering hole next weekend. Rhythms
are rock solid rather than adorned (much like Niggs Nolan and Reverend Billy
Rath) and the guitars grind rather than chug. Kevin K lays down his distinctive
vocals underneath, rather than on top of, a heavy, churning mix.
If you detect a note of dismay that the likes of Kevin K (and fellow NYC product
Sonny Vincent) have to vacate their spiritual musical homes to make a living,
you're correct - but to be honest, it's more a lament that it's not economical
for them to haul their arses to Australia for some shows. Putting aside the
tyranny of distance, wherever you lay YOUR hat, you can at least buy the CDs
and strike a blow for Real Rock and Roll. As far as Kevin K is concerned,
if you're a newcomer, this is a great place to start.
– The Barman
1/2
KISS
OF DEATH – Kevin K & the Real Kool Kats (Lollipop
Records)
Things have been quiet on the Kevin K front in this part of the world (Australia)
since the demise of Vicious Kitten, the Canberra label that was single-handedly
instrumental in bringing his music Down Under. French label Lollipop looks to have picked up the slack with "Kiss of Death".
Not sure how
Lollipop go for distribution outside of Europe but this is worth going
out of your way to track down. It's a typical Kevin K album: Gritty street
rock with lots of New York reference points and the omnipresent shadow of
Johnny Thunders looming in the background.
For this album, the ex-New York-now-Florida-based, globetrotting Mr K teams
with a bunch of French players (he seems to be a bigger deal on the Continent
and in Japan than in his homeland). No sign of Parisian Freddy Lynxx - France's
pre-eminent Thunders authority - and my fave K backing band remains the engine
room from New York's Sour Jazz, but these Frenchies sound (and look)
the part.
While I'm over tunes like the opening "Kiss of Death" that
compare smack to a femme fatale (and to be honest, the toy syringe keyrings
Kevin sells via his website induce a cringe), props have to be grudgingly
given after a few listens as the song is a grower. "Ain't It Fun"
isn't the expected Dead Boys cover but a vaguely optimistic love song,
replete with overt Ramones-style pizza parlour setting. Speaking of the Bruddas,
the chugging "Road to Ruin" is an overt trib to NYC's finest
and its Burroghsian cut-up of some of their finest lyrics works a treat.
"Do You Wanna Kiss" recalls Kevin's ‘90s stab at commercial
success, the fab and (not overly) polished "Magic Touch", and his
poppier moments in the Road Vultures, who came across as a trashy Beatles
mutant. It's criminal that the aforementioned "Magic Touch"
went nowhere and it's hoped that someone in some musical domain where
AOR and high rotation program doesn't rule the roost will give this tune
a decent airing. We live in hope.
There's more often than not a defining cover song on a Kevin K album
to expose his influences and the selection here is a fine swinging take on
"These Boots Are made for Walking". It teams Kevin with someone
called Bea Superstar who contributes suitably Nancy Sinatra-like vocals and
closes the album with some squawling Thunderesque guitar. Cool. - The
Barman
PS - If you're looking for back catalogue, Australia's Laughing Outlaw has picked up the Vicious Kitten stock or try Kevin's US website.
13th
STREET - Kevin K (Vicious Kitten)
ARBEIT MACHT FREI - Kevin K with Sour Jazz (13th Street Entertainment)
Kevin K ought to be huge: Think Stonesy street punk, imbued with the outlaw
attitude (and sometimes lyrical obessions) of Johnny Thunders, with whom Mr
K used to knock around. Temper those elements with some spiky melodies and
you're halfway there. His last album (and first for Canberra's Vicious
Kitten) "Magic Touch" was a grimy masterpiece. This one lacks
some of its poignancy and more measured moments, but it's not far behind.
Backed by Germans Chris Lakriz (bass) and Andi Hill (drums) and recorded in
Deutschland over four days in May 2001, it's up and energetic, brimful of
the main man's roaring, full-throated guitar, and full of stories about lost
love and Kevin's hometown of New York City. More specifically, the Lower East
Side. "Son of Sam" (not the Dead Boys song) reprises the killer
of the same name, while "New York City (Can't Look Back)" reflects
on junkiedom, lost friends and Max's Kansas City, ultimately bidding them
all goodbye. "13th Street" runs parallel to the Dictators' "Avenue
A", at least lyrically, and bemoans the gentrification of their neighborhood:
"No more dope or coke/Fun around here". Call me a self-interested
wimp - this tourist will take high-priced souvenirs over a mugging any time
- but I know where they're coming from. Even rockers with street time have
to pay the rent.
"Jennifer Love" is a hospital bed paen to the celeb while "Heartbroken
Again", written by Kevin's late brother Alan, is a bluesy rave-up that
Johnny T might have recorded, had he cleaned up and hooked up with musicians
rather than scumbags in New Orleans. The Heartbreakers' "Too Much Junkie
Business" is a faithful tribute. "Scissors" is a risque little
song from the Road Vultures, who were the band originally populated by Kevin
and Alan K, and done to fine effect. "Sundown" (partly inspired
by High Plains Drifter) chugs along on ther back of an interesting guitar
phrase.
Culled
from shows at the Continental on St Mark's Place in September and December
2000, "Arbeit Macht Frei" is a live work-out with Kevin K's NY band,
the rhythm section of Sour Jazz, Mark Rubenstein (bass) and Splat Fitzgerald
(drums), plus producer Patrick K on extra guitar. A mix of older solo material
and Road Vultures tunes, it motors along nicely.Similar themes (girls, drugs,
misadventures) and the biggest Thunders cop you ever did hear in "Hook
Me Up". You also get covers of "Ramblin's Rose" and Tommy James
and the Shondells' "I Think We're Alone Now".
Some of the guitar's a little thin in parts but that's a quibble. If you like
Kevin K, you need to drop 13th
Street Entertainment a line and grab this. - The Barman
(both albums)
