The first real attempt from former teen idol Rick Nelson to distance himself from his original heartthrob run, Bright Lights consists of mainly interpretations of other country songs. It's not a bad reintroduction to the artist in a new setting, but not much in the substance department, I'm afraid.
This document is often hailed as Quicksilver's greatest and its worst - depending on who you ask - but all agree it is the most quintessential release. Captured mostly live, augmented with a few studio cuts that are of the same spirit, this has to be the most realized of the jam-style live albums, at least as far as 60's Bay Area bands go. Maybe 25-minute versions of Bo Diddley songs (the entire "Who Do You Love" suite") is a little excessive, but for the most part, it's well-concieved in that I like it all the way through and want to hear it again, and I'm not than enthusiastic about "Mona". The other big spot was "Calvary", which really gets out there on a limb and essentially closes the album on a flourish. A somewhat mercurial but definitely intriguing record.
Often viewed now as weird hippie-core offshoots of the Greatful Dead and Jefferson Airplane, not coming close to the longevity and hardiness of the former, or the commercial success of the latter, in reality Quicksilver Messenger Service were a whole other thing to be reckoned with, and should have rightly had at least more than the portions they earned. While the Dead's jams and flirtations with country made friends with bikers, QMS brought in a range of more cultured sounds via a two-guitar weaving approach (Gary Duncan and John Cipollina) that charmed and beguiled the listener. The only real bit of aggressiveness is on the opening cover of Hamilton Camp's "Pride of Man"; anything else up-tempo has a happier feel ("Dino's Song", "It's Been Too Long"). "Gold and Silver" and "The Fool" exemplify the classic QMS sound. It's the kind of psychedelic theater the Dead took years to bring to life on stage and never really got on record. Special mention goes to "The Fool" in this respect. Solid effort.
Second time around, and this record - lovingly nicknamed the "Red Album", by the way - really does not give a fuck what you think of it, one way or another. It spills forth Schacher's brutal bass lead, Brewer's dunka-dunk drums, revels in Farner's poison-feedbacked guitar and squelching vocals and lyrics, and there you go! GRAND FUNK!!! Only eight tracks here - anymore would be blasphemy - like the debut, of the smoke'em if you got'em variety. The shorter ones - which still feel mammoth, by the way - are crammed at the start, to give this one the appearance of friendly commercialism, when really that is a pant load. The hammer is laid down on the freakin' anvil on the second half, when no track runs less than 6 and a half minutes, and the listener gets the full-bore idea of what this band is all about. "Got This Thing on the Move" feels like the lighter version of "T.N.U.C." in a lot of respects, actually, and a decent way to christen the affair. In the very least, you know what you are in for, so just strap in your seatbelts….Too bad the next few tracks, while gregarious, bring us back to that first album "will they or won't they let loose" void. Only when they hit the ending groove of "Mr. Limousine Driver" do you get an indication of what is to transpire. But the next three tracks are where GFR hits its' stride - "In Need", "Winter and My Soul", and "Paranoid" - the latter track garnering comparisons to the Black Sabbath single of the same name, but they are rather dissimilar. The GFR version is all stretched and fuzzed out to hell and back, running for nearly eight minutes, conjuring up images of unseen figures hiding behind doors waiting to pounce upon unsuspecting, innocent folks. One other thing to note is how these three tracks slowly descend mood-wise - from the relatively "happy" jam of "In Need" (where you hear Mark's constant "yeahs" and "ooohs" in the background during his guitar solo) to the vague and pastoral "Winter and My Soul" to the rather dark "Paranoid".
It's a nice setup for the grand finale - a cover of The Animals "Inside-Looking-Out", which the 'Railroad turns into their own personal torture chamber of a jam, firmly establishing themselves as the power trio of the moment, through and through. If it's not technical skill they can rely on, then it's pure guts, glory, intangibles, and the zeitgeist of the era they drilled into, channeling the emotion into this one monster wave of a track. Putting all the rising emotion aside, well…then again, this is the RED album, and you can't put that aside and properly hope to begin to judge this one. One thing was for certain - the tide that brought these guys in would have to be dealt with, one way or another. Like it or not, this is the most interesting studio album of the early years.
