There’s only six tracks, so unlike other live albums of the era, many of which were gargantuan double/triple album length extravaganzas, this is short, sweet, and to the point. The bookend tracks are, yes, “Fool for the City” and “Slow Ride”. What else would they be – “Fiddler on the Roof” and “Singing in the Rain”? One thing I will say about both songs performed live is, stripped of all of their studio enhancements, they do sound slightly subdued in a live setting. But generally, the group delivers the tunes and gives the fans what they paid for. In between, they include tracks from their first two records – nothing, sadly, from Rock & Roll Outlaws or Night Shift, which are two records I really like, and I thought contained better material than what was on their first two albums. The second track is “Home in my Hand” which I’m pretty ambivalent about. The disc takes a tick upward with the third track, their cover of “I Just Want to Make Love to You”, which also was the group’s first hit. I’d go as far to say that, on sheer energy alone, this track is the highlight of the disc, and it definitely spills over to the next two tracks, “Road Fever” and “Honey Hush”. I can understand why this album was Foghat’s biggest seller, because it amply demonstrates that above all else, they were a very entertaining live act. My one quibble here is - why is this disc on single LP length and why has anyone not seen fit to release an expanded version of this performance? It just seems to me that even on what should be easily their strongest platter by a long shot, the group got shorted, somehow…or maybe I’m reading too much into this?

The album title is not just there for kicks; the band actually recorded it in a Marblehead, Massachusetts studio (with George Martin in the producer's chair), and it was expected to break them on a large-scale level, but instead, the breakthrough never materialized, and the band quickly fell back into obscurity. Once you hear the album, you begin to understand why. The second try with the Kulberg/Roberts/Rowan/Greene/Baskin alliance, and this time around, they try to make it more palatable to then-listening audiences. It sounds clearer than ever before, and you know this is roots-fusion done with class, professionalism, and intent - yet, the elements which made Seatrain stand out in the first place have been relegated to background status by now. The only place where the real all-star of the band, Richard Greene, gets to show-off is on the album ender, "Despair Tire", which is really nothing more than an extended joke of a track for him to solo and riff on. A fairly entertaining joke, mind you, but it's a joke all the same. Everywhere else you are confronted with decent, yet meandering FM-friendly efforts credited to either the Kulberg-Roberts team, Peter Rowan, or Baskin. All of them are decent, none of them are bad, but nothing ever rises to the level of impressive. One thing I should mention here is they trot "As I Lay Losing" from the debut album out of the archives, but frame it under the title "Losing All the Years", and it contains none of the manic, on-the-edge energy which marked the version heard on the debut record. I find it difficult to call this a disappointing experience, because there were indications of this in the album before this one, but certainly, the heart, soul, and adventurous spirit of Seatrain is barely in evidence. The surprising thing is, Rowan and Greene would leave after this album, and Kulberg would soldier on for one more record under the Seatrain moniker (which I do not have) called Watch, with a completely different lineup.

From a lineup perspective, Kulberg, Greene, and Roberts remained, and the newcomers were Larry Atamanuik, Lloyd Baskin, and most importantly, Peter Rowan, from Boston-area psychedelic group Earth Opera. Since Greene had played in the Jim Kweskin Jug Band, who also were based in Boston in the 60's, now the group had definitive links to the area and could be considered a transcontinental band of sorts, since they were usually based in Northern California. The geographical connections expanded further eastward, across the ocean to jolly old England, as George Martin - fresh off his longtime gig with The Beatles - chose Seatrain as the very first band to produce postscript. The end result is a curious affair, with country-rock and bluegrass overtones, and none of the ominous, cinematic tone which marked the debut record. The focus is on Greene's fiddle theatrics, instead of spreading the wealth among all of the players (as the debut did). Meanwhile, Rowan and Baskin share lead vocal duties - both of them sounding as sweet and down-home as possible - so this could all be mistaken for a second-hand Band clone upon initial listens. But the material is really good, well-executed, and consistently entertaining, which makes up for this perceived lack of originality. "13 Questions" clipped the lower rungs of the charts, and deservedly so, while their take on Lowell George's "I'm Willin" is a hedonistic hoe-down. Rounding out the album is their wild version of the "Orange Blossom Special". Elsewhere, "Book of Job" is a fun, yet somewhat hokey take on the old Biblical story of Job, and I prefer to lose myself in the instrumental prowess, rather than the lyrics. Rowan's contributions are on the mellow side ("Home to You", "Waiting for Elijah"), and the band rehashes "Out Where the Hills" from the debut, but in a warmer, more inviting, some would say, less-than-thrilling tone. For me, that is the trade-off between this record and the debut - any trace of progressivism can only be found in Greene's fiddle playing, and maybe in the odd track from the Kulberg-Roberts team (especially "13 Questions") - but if you are looking for warm tones, roots-rock authenticity, and fairly good hooks, then the follow-up is a nice pick.

At the end of the 60's, Marin County, California's Seatrain served as a very short-term American response to the then-nascent progressive rock movement from the U.K. Formed from the remnants of Al Kooper's Blues Project, the group had already released an album in this vein the year before (Planned Obscelcence) but had been contractually obligated to place it under the Blues Project name. This album in particular ups the ante. It has a very democratic feel, despite the talent collected, no one really dominates, or is spotlighted above the others. Another neat feature was, like a few other bands of the day, had a full-time lyric writer by the name of Jim Roberts. Imagery here is stark and cinematic, making up for shortcomings in other areas, and just for the fact that this is an odd listen. Greene's violin playing is a high point, especially on the jarring open track. Mere months after this was released, Seatrain would undergo a moderately radical change, and pursue a new musical direction.

By this time, Van Halen had been in existence for close to 25 years, and were a big name in the industry for going on 20 years. After all of the madness, upheaval, and gargantuan amounts of monies already made, they didn’t need to make this album. And yet, they did. Furthermore, after going through two big-name lead singers, they decided to leaf through the second-tier of late 80 and early 90’s pop-metal-dom for their next front man, reaching out to Malden, Massachusetts finest – one Gary Cherone, who fronted Extreme through their run at or near the top of the charts. And so, in early 1998, Van Halen III was unleashed upon the public. It was also the absolute longest platter ever in VH history, and obvious that it should have been an Eddie solo project rather than another Van Halen record. One problem is that, as a whole, the sound is even more mature and less fiery than what was heard on Balance, as if Eddie and Alex realize they are getting even older and do not dare compete with the young guns of rock anymore. Which, on the one hand, is a good thing, since at the time Nu-Metal was taking hold, but on the other hand, none of this really rocks with any sort of reckless abandon whatsoever. The most you get is a very measured professionalism, backed by Cherone’s odd vocal tracks. To add, most of these tracks are long, with some interesting, but ultimately not that impressive passages, to the point where you are left thinking to yourself, maybe Eddie is over-complicating himself out of a decent album. I got that feeling from a lot of tracks here. So, this is about Eddie the Artist, which over the years got the short end of the stick next to the front men of Van Halen, but now all of the sudden you are supposed to pay homage to him on this record…but what is weird is that he makes it difficult to do just that very thing here. There are some odd asides, like “Once”, which reaches out into the trip-hop genre for inspiration, but fumbles its way back into the band’s normal wheelhouse eventually. And “Primary”, which features Eddie playing a sitar solo. “How Many Say I” is quite odd – a really oft-kilter piano ballad with Eddie on vocals for once – which should be a spot where you want to sympathize with your friendly old pal, but for some reason, the interaction comes off as slightly creepy and vaguely remote, as if you never really knew him after all these years…. Meanwhile, the rockers loaded at the start of the album, which normally pull people in, are missing the crunch, hooks, and fire of past works. I know these tracks are OK, but they are missing that key something, which separates even halfway decent VH from run-of-the-mill stuff, and it doesn’t have much to do with the lead singer. It has everything to do with the simple fact that the album never needed to be made in the first place. Everything about this, right down to choice of producer – Mike Post, whose normal wheelhouse was cutting theme songs for TV show dramas – seemed wrong, yet the maestro insisted on one more go-round in a last-ditch attempt to prove the nay-sayers wrong. Eddie even cut the majority of bass tracks himself, rendering Michael Anthony useless for the most part. Does that make VH III the worst album in their catalog? In a sense, it does. Not because the group itself is awful in a technical sense, but the emotional void is too deep to ignore. With nothing to really play for – except to satisfy their own egos – what is the motivation here, really?