The Cavalier daily :: Tuesday, November 2, 1971 :: University of Virginia Library

The music of a well-ordered age
is calm and cheerful, and so is its
government. The music of a restive
age is excited and fierce, and its
government is perverted. The music
of a decaying state is sentimental
and sad and its government is
imperiled.

Lu Be We
Ancient Chinese Philosopher

On that heavy note the editors
of Rolling Stone launch into their
opus magnum: to protect the
consumer from the evils of the
record industry. The rock and roll
record reviewer is a culture hero!
Standing between the listener and
the mounds of records spewed
forth by the music industry, it's a
task equal to (nay, greater than)
that of Nader's Raiders.

And then there are those in the
audience who will go out of their
way to buy a record that an
established reviewer has branded
worthless garbage. But such
treachery by the audience doesn't
discourage the critic from his task.
He knows it's an uphill fight. I
mean, this is selfless dedication.
Never thought of it that way, did
you?

Fortunately the editors don't
dwell on the honor of their
profession much past the first
chapter. The book is primarily a
collection of record reviews
covering music from the end of
1967 to 1971. They start out with
the decline of the "Sixties-type"
music and the Beatles. A chapter on
the Rolling Stones is the point of
transition into the distinctive
period we're now in. I use
"distinctive" for lack of a better
word; there's really no collective
term for the music coming out
between '67 and '71.

Chapters are divided by
arbitrary categories by geographic
origin, artists, or distinctive sounds.
Each chapter is prefaced by an
opening shot in which the editors
attempt to give an overview of the
section. Some of the shorts work;
most of them are inadequate.

Several of the chapters are
sketchy, notably the selections on
forerunners of rock and roll and on
soul music. Some sources of further
reference in these areas are listed in
the introduction.

While not intending to slight the
single, the reviews are primarily of
albums. There's good reason for
this. Rolling Stone started
publishing when the album
dominated the single as the form of
recorded art; singles coverage was
non-existent until the early '70's.
Then some bright editor discovered
that many singles were among the
better music being issued at that
time and they weren't appearing on
follow-up albums. So in the interest
of the true rock connoisseur, a
small chapter on singles is included.
Appropriately, each review is about
as short as its subject.

Any omissions or errors in the
Record Review are begged to be
forgiven at the outset; the point is
made that rock-and-roll critics have
no guides and few precedents to
reassure them. Defining styles and
principles in rock criticism is no
mean task (but neither is writing a
book review on a collection of
music reviews.)

In spite of the hardships the
reviewers claim to suffer, most of
their critiques come off quite
successfully. Instrumentation, vocal
ability, and special effects are
adequately considered without
dissecting the music beyond
recognition. Some of the more
extrapolated insights are strained
though:

...Robert Plant, who is
rumored to sing some notes on
the record that only dogs can
hear, demonstrates his
heaviness on "The Lemon
Song." When he yells "Shake
me 'til the juices run down my
leg" you can't help but flash
on the fact that the lemon is a
cleverly-disguised phallic
metaphor. Cunning Rob,
sticking all this eroticism in
between the lines just like his
blues-beltin' ancestors!

— John Mendelssohn reviewing
Led Zeppelin II

Most of the reviews are humble
enough not to claim such
perceptions. Such moments of
lightheartedness are usually reserved
for General Impressions:

Break out the hash pipe and
heat up the gumbo—Dr. John
is back again with music from
that steamy, swampy place in
your mind that only Dr. John
can reach. If you get stoned to
watch TV commercials while
eating Colonel Sanders fried
chicken and drinking warm
Ripple—then you are weird
enough for Dr. John. And he
is, sure as sin and rain, weird
enough for you.

David Gancher
reviewing Remedies

There is no way to get around
the fact that the book was dated as
soon as it hit the stands. After all,
rock is a perishable art. And reviews
aren't intended to be news.

But wait! Before you resign this
book to an Oldies But Goodies
collection, look at what you've got.
This is a distilled collection of
reviews tracing the rise of the rock
musician from "juvenile delinquent
to auteur." Collectively, the
critiques illustrate certain
patterns trends in production style,
vocal arrangements and the
influences of group synthesis—it's
all there. For the rock enthusiast,
the Rolling Stone Record Review is
an excellent reference book.

For the uninitiated, it offers
greater surprises. I was never
impressed by Crosby, Stills, Nash,
Young, Taylor and Reeves album
Deja Vu. With the exception of the
melancholy "Helpless", I found
most of the vocals to be too
saccharine—a high tenor with an
overdose of chorus. It wasn't 'til I
read Langden Winner's review that
I realized it was Graham Nash's
doing. Nash, formerly of the Hollies
(who I also never cared for) had
failed to capture the eerie deja vu
experience with his too perfect, to
soothing renditions. Neil Young's
chameleon voice is the real hero on
the album. What a revelation.

Disregarding the occasional
lapses into a hipper-than-thou
attitude, the editors of Rolling
Stone have performed a service to
pop music fans—providing them
with some amusing insights into the
music industry's products. And if
you accept Lu Be We's philosophy
on music, the anthology presents
some heavy social commentary
about our governments. But that's a
whole new article...

Photo By Charlie Sands