Music and Recording Reviews

Various Artists: Jem Records Celebrates Jagger & Richards
Jem Recordings (auditioned as CD). 2024. Marty Scott, prod.; engs. unknown.
Performance ****
Sonics ****

To celebrate what would have been John Lennon's 80th birthday, Jem Records chief Marty Scott came up with the idea of tapping into his label's roster of talent to create a tribute record.

Jem Recordings—which in 2013 rose from the ashes of the important import label Jem Records (Cheap Trick; The Cure; Simple Minds; Siouxsie and the Banshees)—today is home to neo '60s acts like the Anderson Council, the Gold Needles, and the Midnight Callers. That lineup put the label in a unique position to deliver Lennon's songs in a way at once retro and refreshingly modern. The success of the record led to the creation of the "Celebrates" series, which would go on to celebrate the music of Brian Wilson, Pete Townshend, Ray Davies—and now Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.

What's most compelling about the "Celebrates" project is that it doesn't just tap into well-known hits. The collections present lost gems, overlooked deep tracks, and takes on familiar songs that render them more psychedelic than could have been imagined at the original studio sessions. The latest, a nod to the Rolling Stones, is no exception.

This is a fun ride from start to finish, but a few tracks rival the originals. The Grip Weed's version of "Dandelion" is majestic and meaty. It carries more weight than the original and lands with more conviction where it matters. "Don't Stop" is a pop-driven take on a rarely heard track. It gives the song new life, and in a way new meaning.

All five "Celebrates" releases have been great tools for exposing fans to the artists on the label. A 2025 edition is already in the works, though what it will celebrate remains to be seen. For now, these 13 tracks are worthy of a night spent together; if you love The Stones, you'll get what you want and more.—Ray Chelstowski

Kerry King: From Hell I Rise
Reigning Phoenix Music 2.003 (LP, CD). 2024. Kerry King, Josh Wilbur, prods.; Josh Wilbur, Kyle McAulay, Mark Aguilar, engs.
Performance ****
Sonics ****½

Just shy of 59, guitarist Kerry King is hardly the oldest musician to put out their first solo record. He is not even the oldest metal guy; that was Sir Christopher Lee, at 91. From Hell I Rise is significant nevertheless, as the first full-length opportunity to hear King outside of Slayer following a handful of guest appearances.

Slayer's last several years were tumultuous; From Hell I Rise can be heard as a cleansing ritual, King divesting himself of that band. He enlists its on-again, off-again drummer Paul Bostaph for his solo date. Filling out the new band are former Vio-Lence/Machine Head guitarist Phil Demmel, co-founding Death Angel vocalist Mark Osegueda, and bassist Kyle Sanders.

The album pops immediately with the instrumental prologue "Diablo" dropping to the maelstrom riff of "Where I Reign." King and Demmel are very different lead players, and this is a good chance to contrast their styles.

From Hell I Rise is best at its extremes. The fastest songs elicit the stomach-churning effect of watching hyperspeed stunt planes repeatedly almost crash; the slowest feel like suppuration from 100 third-degree burns. King, who wrote all the music, still has his Iommi-like talent for coercive riffs.

The slab is crisply effective, at 13 songs and just over 45 minutes; only the highlight track, "Crucifixation," pushes past five minutes. That song has all the thrash-metal tropes, from a guy who invented many of them, including an epic breakdown at two minutes, hellish guitar harmonization, and dive-bombing solos.

The sound is exceptional: guitars distinct and separate when needed, fused for extra power elsewhere; every kickdrum hit, tom strike, and cymbal ping distinctly rendered; vocals are never overwhelming. Bass is felt rather than heard, but that is the modern metal aesthetic.—Andrey Henkin

Liam Gallagher and John Squire: Liam Gallagher and John Squire
Warner Records (auditioned as LP). 2024. Greg Kurstin, prod.
Performance ****
Sonics ****

It comes as little surprise that Liam Gallagher and John Squire found a way to collaborate. Liam's band, Oasis, had long cited John's group, The Stone Roses, as a major influence. They came together in the summer of 2022, when Gallagher invited Squire to join him at a live performance at Knebworth. Sparks flew, leading them to a studio in Los Angeles, where they recorded the songs that became this fabulous, self-titled new record.

This is Squire's first album of new material in 20 years under his own name. For Gallagher, it's another fantastic non-Oasis release; the first was 2017's As You Were. Like that record and the two that followed it, Gallagher employs a solo voice that's not too different from his Oasis voice, but different enough. It's more direct, less distracted, and if it's even possible, filled with indignation that's even less concerned about protocol.

With Squire, Gallagher has found true musical alignment. Squire's soulful, extraordinary, tubular guitar contributions are often unexpected and unfurl like a Gallagher vocal snarl or sneer. It's all wonderfully British.

The record kicks off with the bold and splashy "Raise Your Hands," which straps you into your seat and, like a carny attendant, encourages you to "enjoy the ride." The ride continues with songs that will satisfy fans of either band. "Just Another Rainbow" and "I'm So Bored" find a way to remind us how communal this movement was.

Great credit goes to producer Greg Kurstin, who kept this project from being a mere collection of demos, keeping focus on making something great. These 10 tracks prove that Liam can still create great music with his hands tied behind his back—as long as he has a talent like Squire to keep him steady. Together, they do that and more.—Ray Chelstowski

Bob Schneider: The Human Torch
Shockorama Records (auditioned as LP). 2024. Max Frost, prod.; Frost, Dave McNair, engs.
Performance ****
Sonics *****

Across a 30-plus-year career, Bob Schneider—at his core a singer-songwriter—has built a following with music mixing rock, funk, soul, country, and rap in creative ways, often within the same song. He's known as much for his work in Austin bands—Joe Rockhead, Ugly Americans, the Scabs, Texas Bluegrass Massacre—as he is for his solo work.

Now comes his 21st solo record, The Human Torch. With this project, Schneider chose to make the music on his own (with producer Max Frost, who also shares engineering credits with Dave McNair) in a small demo studio he built himself in his backyard 15 years ago. Frost and Schneider built the record around little more than a collection of songs (written by Schneider with contributions from studio bassist Rachel Loy and multi-instrumentalist John Cusimano, who is married to Rachael Ray), a nylon string guitar, and Schneider's vocals. From there, the duo layered on. Together, they made all of the tracks sound as if they were recorded in an amphitheater. The songs reveal a general curiosity about life and an understanding that laughter is the best companion to one well-lived.

The album is arguably his most cohesive to date, with a sound that reflects how much he has learned and how little he has to lose. At the center of each song sits an authenticity that feels rooted in a scene he continues to help shape, in Austin, Texas. The record has balance and never trips a line. It's appropriately mellow and reflective, with moments that shine.

Pay particular attention to "Nothing Better to Do." It's a song that superfans insisted be on the record, and it wonderfully addresses the complexities of adult relationships and the need we have to be together. The lyrics sit within a ballad, which soars on wings of lap steel and makes wherever you are feel a little bit like Texas.—Ray Chelstowski

Marcus King: Mood Swings
Republic Records (auditioned as LP). 2024. Rick Rubin, prod.; Jason Lader, Dylan Neustadter, Stephen Marcussen, engs.
Performance ****
Sonics *****

If you've been hearing a lot about Marcus King, it might be because he has captured attention in so many musical genres. Having arrived as a blues musician, he quickly became just as comfortable in soul. His current approach is more singer-songwriter and more "Philly" than his early guitar ace identity. His evolution is evident throughout this latest release.

Much of the credit for this evolution—this last bit anyway—goes to producer Rick Rubin, whose musical ear and direction helped King add dimensions, tapping into his strongest talents. King's expansive "thank you" in the liner notes speaks to how transformative this process was and to where King is headed.

Marcus is, at a minimum, a double threat. His guitar chops are matched with sterling vocals, but in this new guise, the songs are the focus. The usual flash and flair of his onstage presence are minimized, played down in the record's packaging. The focus here is on his art. He opens wide, reveals his vulnerability, and stakes his claim with music, his best yet.

This is a southern record that plugs in to the choral communion of his youth, without ignoring the sin endemic in journey. Recovery—from sin and much else—may reside in these songs, but the record offers something better: it delights at least as much as it guides.

King can't quite quiet his guitar, which is good, since that is where his primary talent lies. Dig deeper into select solos, like the glistening one at the center of "Save Me," and you'll uncover King's commitment to making six strings sing as sweetly, vulnerably, and honestly as his voice.

Rick Rubin may not have come to the rescue—King didn't need rescuing—but he has aimed another great artist down an upswinging path, setting a mood that's lasting and long.—Ray Chelstowski