BLOODROCK: U.S.A. (1971)
1) It's A Sad World; 2) Don't
Eat The Children; 3) Promises; 4) Crazy 'Bout You Babe; 5) Hangman's Dance; 6)
American Burn; 7) Rock & Roll Candy Man; 8) Abracadaver; 9) Magic Man; 10)
Erosion.
The last and most colorful — at least, in regard
to the sleeve — album by the original Bloodrock, before Rutledge and Pickens
left the band to a cruel and miserable fate. No major changes in style, but you
can see a slight increase in the number of tracks, which indicates the
transition to a more compact, less epic scale of things. Even the longest song
here, ʽMagic Manʼ, is not a spooky Gothic phantasmagoria à la ʽD.O.A.ʼ or
ʽBreach Of Leaseʼ, but a restrained, collected blues-rocker, the most
«phantasmagoric» piece of which might be the opening electric piano solo (similar
in style to and possibly influenced by Ray Manzarek's solo in ʽRiders On The
Stormʼ, though, naturally, nowhere near as brilliantly constructed).
The thing is, with this record Bloodrock seem
to be taking their «social duties» more seriously than ever — song after song
carries a flash of some apocalyptic vision or a scrap of some prophetic
message. With Bloodrock's lack of proper atmospheric skills, these messages
never carry the convincing force of a ʽGimmie Shelterʼ or a Dark Side Of The Moon, but at least it
helps Rutledge, Pickens, and Co. to preserve the «snappy» attitude of their
best efforts so far and deliver the goods with enough energy and feeling to
shoo away Mr. Languid Boredom.
Not that I could name any particular highlights. For some weird reason, the most memorable
bit on the album for me has always been the maniacal laughter fit at the end of
ʽAmerican Burnʼ which I have always associated with the album sleeve (which,
when fully spread, depicts a very green Mephistopheles embracing the Capitol
with one hand and performing lobotomy with the other) even without realizing
that the lyrics of the song are indeed referring to the same cover. Which is a
little embarrassing, since the song is riff-based, after all, and should be
memorable for its twin guitar/organ melodic line instead. But it isn't.
Still, we could at least namedrop ʽDon't Eat
The Childrenʼ, a fairly upbeat and jolly tune to be matched with such a title,
especially when it comes to the fussy honky-tonk piano solo; the harsh
funk-rocker ʽRock & Roll Candy Manʼ; and the closest thing here to an
actual «epic» — ʽHangman's Danceʼ, which borrows the chords from the coda to
Yes's ʽStarship Trooperʼ but puts them to different use, replacing the
beauty-focused futuristic gaze of Yes with a grittier, more grounded
perspective on current things (not that Bloodrock ever created anything as
breathtaking as ʽStarship Trooperʼ, but at least they tried).
But in the end, my thumbs up for this album would be
explained not by any individual songs, but rather just by the record showing
some character. It's all mild and never rocks you to the core, yet most of the
songs are infused with a mix of sadness, anger, and irony that you wouldn't
expect from a completely «generic» American hard rock album. The lack of a
single distinctive «peak» like ʽD.O.A.ʼ may actually help things — the music
here does not get by on goofy (gory) gimmickry, but rather on this sense of
sadness that subtly inhabits the melodies and even Rutledge's vocal deliveries,
which get progressively less brawny and more tragic. As it is, USA may not be a great album, or it may
not even be Bloodrock's best album, but it may be that one Bloodrock album
which has finally found itself a general purpose. Ironically, God (or Mephisto)
simply would not have that, so USA
would also be the last LP from classic
era Bloodrock as we know it.
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