Word: albums
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...wonderful command voice; he sings with nuance and a remarkable adaptability to different lyrics and styles. He is our Sinatra. Watts now reigns as undisputed King of the Skins; his jazz- and reggae-influenced drumming is the band's gasohol. Watts singlehandedly saves at least two songs on the album from mediocrity, and lifts one to brilliance. The bass playing is at times superb, and probably Ron Wood's; elsewhere it is merely workmanlike, and probably Bill Wyman's. Over the years the Stones have acquired a nonpareil corps of sidemen, and sax Bobby Keys, harmonica Sugar Blue, and keyboards...
...ROBERT PALMER POINTED OUT in the New York Times, the album might have been titled Some More Girls. Like the last album, Emotional Rescue is about getting fucked over by bad girls in the Big City. The album opens with an astonishing track called "Dance: Part One," full of bass and salsa horns and studio effects. It begins with a drunken Jagger-Richards conversation on a streetcorner outside their New York studio...
...album continues with the title track, "Emotional Rescue." Over an eerie carnival back-drop and an ingenious bass line, Jagger sings of the psychic strategies necessary to life with women, which is, as I have said, identical to life in general. It moves from a return to adolescence and ideal love (matched in from by the carnival figures and an unnatural falsetto) to a life of chronic depression ("And I was crying, baby, crying like a child," in a pain-wracked natural voice) to a vision of sexual redemption worthy of Lawrence, sung in the dread/voodoo accents of a Jamaican...
...playing chicken with their first heart attack, Rodney was planning his comeback from nowhere. At 45, he made his first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. He was 47 when he went on Carson for the first of 63 appearances. Now, at 58, Dangerfield has a rambunctious new comedy album out and his first starring role in a Hollywood movie...
...violent than Bob Marley's recent activist songs; and it feels more polished, more heavily produced than traditional Rasta music. A guitar, a bongo, and smooth, taffy-flavored voices don't appear to be enough anymore. One introduction sounds remarkably similar to several measures on Elvis Costello's recent album. And a tuxedoed concert performer carries himself like Barry Manilow onstage. These isolated moments don't detract, however, from the music's mirthful, sensuous beauty...