Okay. Super group time, it is, again.
I don’t know whose brainchild this was,
but Gizmodrome brings together
Mark King, the bass player from Level 42,
Adrian Belew, from King Crimson, Zappa,
Talking Heads, Laurie Anderson, et al.
(his fourth or fifth appearance now
in my record collection, A to G),
Vittorio Cosma, a renowned Italian
jazz pianist, and finally, the name that
was the draw for me, Stewart Copeland
from The Police. Since Stewart has
or shares most of the writing credits
here, and does most of the lead vocal,
I’m guessing he gathered this magical
little quartet. The result is a mixed
bag. Copeland never was a singer, but
a character, and his goofy but rare
lead vocal contributions to The Police
and the work he did on his first solo
records under the moniker Klark Kent,
were welcome oddball diversions from
the perfectionism of Sting. Here, in a
band with at least two really good
singers who show up spectacularly
but mostly as back up guys, vocally
and lyrically this stuff is mostly just
silly. Instrumentally, it cooks just as
one would think. Put great musicians
in a room and something cool is
bound to happen. It’s terrific playing, but
the jury is out for me if this is good music.
I don’t know what to call this stuff.
It’s progressive punk. Experimental art rock.
It’s more bombastic and raw than what
any of these guys have done in their other
projects. It rocks pretty hard and it’s
engaging, funny stuff, but the songs are
not great. I’ve had this record for eight
or nine years, have only listened to it
a handful of times, and it just doesn’t stick.
It’s a bit of a mess. And I don’t walk away
humming a single tune or mouthing a single
lyric line. Sometimes, I think, I keep records
that I don’t like out of some dumb loyalty
to the musicians who played on the record,
or because it captures a rare moment in
rock history, like the gathering of these four
giants. I don’t know if these are good reasons
for keeping a record in the collection.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Gizmodrome, Ear Music Records, 2017, black heavyweight vinyl.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 