BUDGIE: IN FOR THE KILL (1974)
1) In For The Kill; 2) Crash
Course In Brain Surgery; 3) Wondering What Everyone Knows; 4) Zoom Club; 5)
Hammer And Tongs; 6) Running From My Soul; 7) Living On Your Own.
Despite some minor inconveniences, such as the
departure of drummer Ray Philips (replaced by Pete Boot), at least the first
side of Budgie's entry for 1974 is as strong as anything they ever did; maybe
even stronger than anything they ever
did, if you consequently test all four links in this chain. The title track
borrows its introduction from Jeff Beck's cover of ʽI Ain't Superstitiousʼ, but
then quickly segues into an original monster riff, one of Budgie's heaviest
ever — think Sabbath's ʽChildren Of The Graveʼ with the accents reversed, so
you get a lumbering Godzilla instead of a charging T. Rex. There's not much
more to the song than the riff and how well it agrees with the chorus tagline
("...the meaning of life is I'm in for the kill"): the bridge section
devolves into run-of-the-mill blues-rock, and they couldn't think of a good
coda, so they just fade it out after a while. But that riff, woohoo boy, I
could listen to it for the entire six minutes. Such a deep, crisp, refreshing
guitar tone to go along with it. Snappy!
The two short songs that ensue, likewise,
represent one of Budgie's best rockers and one of their best ballads. ʽCrash
Course Surgeryʼ, later covered by Metallica along with ʽBreadfanʼ, is actually
remixed from a much earlier version, originally released in 1971 as a single
(so it features Ray Philips on drums). If anything, it is this band's answer to
ʽParanoidʼ — the same type of short, concise, anguished heavy rocker with a
nagging, repetitive riff racing along the short track with grim determination —
and although the level of intensity is not nearly as high (mainly because this
riff is not tying our attention to a single note), it is still an excellent
specimen of the «crash course» approach to heavy metal. And then, finally, with ʽWondering What Everyone
Knowsʼ, Budgie emerge with an excellent acoustic ballad — going for a
depressed-melancholic rather than sweet-romantic attitude, which suits
Shelley's vocals much better. The
lyrics are too obscure to allow for a straightforward interpretation (lost
love? dearly departed? cold turkey? whatever), but this only works to the
song's advantage as it conveys an atmosphere of general confusion.
Finally, there's ʽZoom Clubʼ, a lengthy epic
with funky and progressive overtones, possibly inspired by some of Zeppelin's
work on Houses Of The Holy, but
also, in a way, presaging much of
Zep's subsequent work on Physical
Graffiti (Bourge's guitar work on the song's first two minutes should
remind you of the likes of ʽCustard Pieʼ, ʽTrampled Underfootʼ, etc.). Shelley
cooks up a vocally challenging chorus (the resolution on the "..move on,
music man!" bit of the chorus is quite unusual and unexpected), and Bourge
throws in a long instrumental passage, alternating funky riffage with bluesy
solos in a way that should have definitely earned some respect from Jimmy Page:
the song is totally on the level, and at nearly ten minute length, it does not
feel particularly overlong due to the never-slackening intensity of the
groove.
Unfortunately, they do seem to run out of great
ideas on the second side, with three more songs that never stick around for too
long. ʽHammer And Tongsʼ is slow, lumpy blues-rock that is so utterly derivative of ʽDazed And Confusedʼ that it isn't even
funny. ʽRunning From My Soulʼ is a piece of generic boogie blues, which is not
what this is band is really about. And ʽLiving On Your Ownʼ is another epic
piece, but this time devoid of memorable riffs — then, for some reason, it
transitions into an uncredited cover of ʽBeck's Boleroʼ (Jeff could have very easily sued the band, except that
the instrumental's authorship has always been problematic — there's a still unresolved
dispute between Beck and Page over the priorities), before returning to the
original unfocused melody. Not particularly bad, just lacking in inspiration.
Nevertheless, the first side alone is worth
stating that Budgie had entered the mid-Seventies with enough dignity, and were
going to survive at least into the late Seventies era; the album clearly
deserves its thumbs
up, at least as a 20-minute long near-perfect EP with 20 more
minutes of take-it-or-leave-it bonus tracks. And, might I add, that's a pretty
mean-lookin' budgie out there on the album sleeve. Shouldn't they have renamed
themselves "Killer Eagle", given the chance? I mean, just think about
how the name "Budgie" must have negatively influenced their sales
among the hard rock crowds...
Yay again! Zoom Club! It think the comparison on the old site with Rainbow better. That quiet introduction (so much superior to the ballad just before it); Blackmore did it more impressive on live versions of Catch the Rainbow, but Bourge was the first. Also note the excellent and as far as I know unique alternate usage of legato (the first two and the last two notes of the theme) and staccato (everything in between). So this is second proof (after Breadfan) that the band could be original as Blackmore had not even finished Stormbringer. The midsection kind of predicts Stargazer, using a killer riff as the foundation of a solo. My only gripe with the song is that the midsection begins with just repeating that riff for eight times; it's screaming for a keyboard solo.
ReplyDeleteIn for the Kill and Crash Course are great (just not otherworldy fantastiwastic) and side B is a bummer.
Hammer and Tongues is interesting enough to be worth listening exactly once. Ignore the legal aspects for the moment; I'm talking esthetics. H&T shows how not to plagiarize. When you steal - we all know Page, but Deep Purple stole Child in Time, Black Night, Fireball, Smoke on the Water, Burn and at least one other song - you must make it your own, put it in a totally different context, so that it becomes (almost) independent. Or at least you must push the idea to extreme. Page and Plant already did of course, so no way (whether they paid royalties or not) Budgie could have get away with this.
Blackmore made the same mistake, in the same year. Might Just Take your Life is stolen from Big Jim Salter by Stone the Crows, from the one album you didn't review. It's their best song.
On the next album Budgie would show again how to steal.
That quiet introduction is a straight steal from Jimi Hendrix's "Little Wing." If anything, it's more obvious in "Catch The Rainbow", but Blackmore and company did at least possess far more inherent originality than Budgie could ever muster.
DeleteThis is the main problem I have with Budgie: Yes, they're likable and quite fun to listen to but, Lord, they're pawn shop common. I find myself listening mainly to identify the various cribbed bits when they appear, and the game gets tedious after a while.
No better way to kick off the new year than with a Budgie album. The second side is a bit of a drag (okay but not that impressive), but the first side might be their most solid run of songs yet. I raised my eyebrows the first time at nine minutes of "Zoom Club", but man, that song's a thrill from beginning to end -- maybe even better than "Megalomania".
ReplyDeleteYeah, a bit thin here, my copy of the debut already has "Crash Course" and we've all reached the same verdict for side B. Luckily the next LP will be a near match for consistency since "Never turn your back..."
ReplyDelete