The messy and labored "F.U.C.K." album - it took slight over a year to record - somehow breathed a new commercial wind into the group, right at the cusp of the grunge movement. I fail to understand how it happened, for this is easily the least fun, least interesting, least musical, and most preachy VH record to date, most likely cut as a response to the party-laden OU812. But at least it retained characteristics of the group which fans could relate to, while this version went off the deep end into populist cliché and pandering, as "Right Here, Right Now" can certainly attest to.

Mike Kellie returned for one last go-round and the end result is an extremely depressing, truth-seeking, vagabond kind of record which could have only been the product of Gary Wright's songs and this late-period Spooky Tooth lineup. There is a nary a rocker in the song list this time around (excepting "All Sewn Up" - and even that is pushing the envelope tempo-wise), and so the psychedelic ups and downs of a few years ago have been replaced by a resolute, downtrodden attitude, at the expense of everything else. Tracks like "Ocean of Power", "Things Change", "Wings on my Heart", and "Pyramids" appear to mock any semblance of positive energy whatsoever. This is music for people stuck in their deep, dark hole, unable to escape, at the end of their rope, the last resort, seeking kernels of truth, and all of that. Very simple, yet heavy, emotional stuff. Coincidentally, this is also the last album Gary recorded with Mike Harrison in the band, and the combination is magical, even though the manic heights of a few years ago are not even being close to scaled here. They just perform their stuff, as if they both know this is the last time they are combining forces, and I have to say, by the time these two twist and turn their vocals together for the climbing "Pyramids", it is heart-rending. Truly, an album that needs to be witnessed by many more people.

Wright's second solo effort features an all-star cast of characters backing him, and I will say the songwriting is a leap from the debut record. If you are looking for an embryonic version of The Dream Weaver - you know, without all the weird keyboards and studio tricks - then look no further than this album."Give Me the Good Earth" sets the tone, with a vaguely funky, environmentally friendly anthem. The album then veers between socially conscious material like the anti-war "Stand For Our Rights" and "Whether It's Right or Wrong", and ballads such as "Love to Survive", which again, foreshadows what future Wright would sound like. But the best of the best here is "Two Faced Man", which is a track that would have been right at home on any late-period Spooky Tooth record - take your pick - just make the arrangement a bit heavier. On Wright's album, it's been lightened up for public consumption, but it is no less challenging. Problems? Well, once again, this is two albums of squeaky clean pop, with little to no edge to it. It's hard to actually buy into Wright's supposed anger and emotion, when the tone of the arrangements are bland on the average.

Harrison's follow-up was recorded in Muscle Shoals studios, a flashier slate of covers beefed up by that infamous rhythm section. And somehow, it doesn't jibe with the pastoral depressingly ironic direction which his solo debut was hinting at, a vein that the second edition of Spooky Tooth would eventually mine so well. But the R&B grooves are decent, and the centerpiece is a rather mean-spirited deconstructed version of "Smokestack Lightning" which rounds off the album. Overall, another intriguing listen from Harrison, because it's a different look from the debut.

Mike Harrison's debut is generally like a continuation of his old band's original send-off platter The Last Puff. The material is morose, singer-songwriter roots-rock, with the odd cover (Cat Stevens' "Hard Headed Woman") placed for effect. This is one of those grow-on-you-over-time records, because Mike and his backing band are content to play the music stripped of flash and power, but to emphasize the subtleties of emotion - whether it is love or pain - when necessary. It's a slight change from his overwrought performances in his former band, but then again, it just goes to show the man had an awful lot of range vocally. The standouts here are the lead two tracks, which function as an impromptu suite ("Mother Nature" and "Call It A Day") and "Pain", which is ironic because Mike sings it in quite the aloof tone, as if pain might be the furthest thing from his mind. The album is fairly short and therefore, might seem inconsequential, but it's worth a few spins.