More historically known for his extensive collaborations, production credits, and other background contributions, Al Kooper's own music career has been quite an odyssey unto itself, highlighted by a string of solo albums stretching from the late 60's to early 80's. However, his debut may be the most revelatory of them all. Released in the fertile, eclectic, post Sgt. Pepper environment vacuum that was album rock at the time (with his own Blood, Sweat, and Tears and Super Session albums looming in the shadows as well) Kooper ably blended a wealth of disparate sounds and genres into what turns out to be a unified, committed gesture of humanism.

As the 90's beckoned, some hair metal rockers adjusted their sound to the new standard. But Kix? Most of their 1995 release sounds like they time-warped back to their 1985 selves to make another album. I call it the most ideal Kix-sounding album to date - every up-tempo track has a catchy hook and has the word "fire" or "ball" or some other crass reference in the title. But there are a couple of strange ballads here, along with an odd funk-rock thing ("I'm Bombed" with its' thuggish "napalm" retort), which ends the album and leaves one with a gritter taste in the mouth than most Kix records.

Before Kix hit the big time with 1988's Blow My Fuse, their inital shot was this record released three years prior, which was every bit as enveloping, but for some reason, completely went under the radar. Produced by glam metal whisperer Beau Hill (producing Ratt's debut was his entry to the big leagues), all of the elements were in place for Kix to follow in their footsteps, but the album did not chart. The AC/DC-like stomp of the title track sets the tone, there is the prerequisite power ballad ("Walkin' Away"), and by and large the group has moved away from the bar room rock and New Wave which they flirted with on the previous album (1983's Cool Kids). However, despite the glut of impactful tunes, you get the feeling the band has not completely gelled. And Steve Whiteman's screaming mug on the cover surely had to switch a lot of people off, right? Still, it's a relatively fun ride.

The Jook were a great almost-made-it story. Some of their songs were either defiantly British ("King Capp") or glam to the point of absurdity ("Bish Bash Bosh"), but there was a streak of unmistakable loyalty to the roots of rock 'n'' roll, which is really brought out here on this double sided single which was released four years after they split up. A 2-disc retrospective of the Jook came out in 2013.

For their third and final studio album of the decade the band reverted back to their original name, and had enough of a reputation to get it produced by Mickie Most. It would seem the elements were in place for a breakthrough, but instead, third time was not the charm. The album itself wasn't a problem, but compared to the first two HMK releases, there were some changes. There is more of a noticeable pop feel to these tracks, and along with it even more of a "don't-give-a-crap" sentiment from Holton which really contrasts with the professional sheen of the project. The first side most resembles the previous record with the rambling "From Heaven to Hell & Back Again" and emotional ballad "Cry for Me". But the second side is more ambiguous, even though it starts strongly on the pop-rocker "She's No Angel". By the time you finish the murky tour tale of "Squalliday Inn" you begin to wonder what was left for them to stand on. Many later editions include the single "Delirious" and its B-side "Hey Little Girl"; the former is a great aggro-punk style song.