1981's "Shot of Love" is the last, hardest-rocking, and most accessible of Bob Dylan's trio of "Born-again" albums that began in 1979, and many fans call this the best of his Christian-oriented albums, all of which were (and still are) widely criticized. All the scorn and empty accusations of judgemental dogma that Dylan took may have fuelled all of the roughness and energy that packs the album, making it one of the most realistic, down-to-Earth Christian albums ever made.
It's ironic that "Shot of Love" may be the easiest for non-Christian fans to enjoy, because it still has God written all over it, starting with the quote of Matthew 11:25 in the liner notes. This album is full of a sense that a God-less society is falling apart, but Dylan pulls off the task of turning the end of times/Armageddon stew into vigorous, enjoyable rockers (case in point, 'Trouble'). In the blistering title track, Dylan speaks of those who mocked his God, and desires an escape from all the condemnation he took, and from the morbid side of the world in general. 'Property of Jesus' is self-explanatory, and 'Watered Down Love' seems to speak out against organized religion blocking man's relationship with God. Amidst the rocking world-gone-wrong of 'The Groom's Still Waiting At the Altar,' Dylan assures the listener that "God has mercy on them who are slandered and humiliated," a great anthem for any weary Christian, and the feeling that the world is falling apart is evident throughout this album; 'Dead Man, Dead Man' shares the same message of an earlier song 'When You Gonna Wake Up' and describes "politics of sin" and those who "curse God with every move." On the ballad-like 'In the Summertime,' he speaks of "Fools they made a mock of sin" but things get brighter as he sings of a gift that will "be with me unto the grave, and then unto eternity." Also in this song, Dylan seems to address his audience and/or his critics; Did you respect me for what I did, Or for what I didn't do, or for keeping it hid? Did I lose my mind when I tried to get rid of everything you see?"
Only two songs here don't bear a Christian-oriented message (at least one that's not as obvious as the other songs). The simplistic, sad piano-and-vocal 'Lenny Bruce' finds Dylan doing something that Christian bands today should be doing more often; Lenny Bruce was not exactly what you'd call a "Christian role model" but who says Christian music has to only give sympathy to Christian martyrs? And Bruce was a martyr in his own field, and the song named after him is a forthright, straight salute to the lost comedian. 'Heart of Mine' meanwhile is a song of self-exploration, like the closing ballad 'Every Grain of Sand,' probably the most recognized tune on the album, and a pleasantly mild end to a mostly rollicking set of songs. Here it appears that Dylan was consciously bringing an end to his "Christian era" because obviously he still had other messages to deliver. It is a poignant bridge that connects the end of the Born-again era to the beginning of the ups and downs he would take throughout the 80s.
"Shot of Love" is the one album that other Christian bands should use as their blueprint; it is full of both the anger and the peace that accompany the decision to find faith. For fans of Dylan and not the faith however, it is still a welcome return to craftiness and daring that made such classics as "Bringing It All Back Home" and "Blonde on Blonde" so incomparable to other artists.

Rarely can a band make a consistent, solid album purely out of unreleased material, rarities, outtakes, and all the other names for such precious finds, and this vastly expanded edition of "Odds and Sods" solidifies that ability. This album was originally recorded to curve the bootlegging process going on at the time, not only because The Who didn't make money off bootlegs (that may have been the record company's motivation though), but also because the group wanted fans to have more listenable versions; the late bassist John Entwistle said, "They release really bad bootlegs of these songs all the time...they're really bad quality...We thought it was about time we released a bootleg of our own."
It's a true blessing that "Odds and Sods" is so highly recognized and appreciated as a solid effort, because many of these songs rank among some of Pete Townshend's most articulate songwriting and The Who's best performances in the studio. And we all know the fate of unreleased songs that are released here and there over time, popping up on random "best of" compilations; they become lost in time and labeled as empty-hearted gestures to get people to buy those greatest hits albums. Indeed, some of these songs, some in different versions, later appeared as bonus tracks on the remastered editions of The Who's classic albums (the best studio version of 'Pure and Easy' appeared on the reissue of "Who's Next" for example). But gathered together and focused on as "Odds and Sods," listeners can hear some glorious Who moments, packaged as one sturdy album.
The collection also does much to further prove the already well-established fact that The Who were major contributors in bridging 60s rock-pop to the more progressive harder rock of the 70s. For example there are tracks like the enjoyable naive quality of 'I'm the Face' (a song recorded when The Who were known as The High Numbers), the poppy humor of 'Little Billy,' the odd story of 'Mary Anne With the Shaky Hand' (a different version than the one that originally appeared on "The Who Sell Out") and covers of the likes of 'Summertime Blues,' 'Leaving Here' and the cheeky 'My Way.' But there are also more intricate, personal songs like 'We Close Tonight' (based on one of Townshend's schooldays relationships), and 'Too Much of Anything' as well as compositions that are self-mocking autobiographies of The Who such as the ego-deflating 'Faith in Something Bigger,' and the look at exhaustive touring 'Postcard.' And to further round out the progression of this great band's music, there are several tracks that came from The Who's innovation in "rock operas"; 'Glow Girl' and 'Cousin Kevin Model Child' were early ideas for "Tommy," one of the very first rock operas, and important elements from the infamous, aborted "Lifehouse" album/film such as 'Time is Passing,' 'Put the Money Down' and most notably 'Pure and Easy,' the "Odds and Sods" track that everyone remembers, demonstrating The Who's desire to shed as much light on this unreleased material as that of their most memorable and well-known work.

In 1980, after the exits of some crucial members, and the death of one bandmate, Ian Anderson (with longtime member/guitarist Martin Barre) was faced with the grave challenge of reforming Jethro Tull, not just in personnel changes, but more importantly in a musical sense; the technological advances of the 80s were looming, and the band's progressive innovations had little place in the new wave/punk movement. But as always, Anderson was strong in the face of adversity, and "A" was the best punch Jethro Tull could deliver in its new incarnation.
The musicians recruited were the best that Anderson could have picked; bassist Dave Pegg, drummer Mark Craney, and Eddie Jobson in the department of keyboards and violin work. These musicians with Anderson's crafty songwriting make the music of "A" an almost seamless event in the Jethro Tull catalog. In 1980, a longtime Jethro Tull fan could see the album cover (one of Tull's best), which featured the group in an air traffic control room diligently watching a supernatural scene in the sky, and know that something had changed. The image of a band of gypsies out of Charles Dickens was gone; this Jethro Tull was more like gypsies out of Ray Bradbury. This was not the same group that had recorded the British blues interpretations of "This Was" or the Earth-loving "Songs From the Wood."
But the listener will not be disappointed. The transition is actually fascinating; it's as if there had been no challenge at all, as if the change was as natural an occurrence as a flash of lightning. Anderson was obviously ready for the trying advances of the new decade, but on this album Jethro Tull were nowhere near overboard or radically conformed, as was the fate of many other bands who had been prog-rock heroes of the 70s. It was more studio-polished than most of what the band had released before it, but these advances actually go well with the album's lyrical theme, which at first guess seems to describe some near-future Dark Age. Since the album is not as burdened with synth pop hooks as other groups were using at the time, the studio perfection alone is what gives "A" its identity. As for the playing, it is as unified as the classic line-up that preceded it. Anderson's always- necessary flute pulls off the impossible task of never sounding out of place, and is especially well-served on 'Pine Marten's Jig' and 'Protect and Survive,' never contradicting Jobson's keyboard work (which shines particularly on 'Flyingdale Flyer'). The rhythm section of Craney and Pegg does a great job at holding their ground, and offers slight bluesy-funk in percussion and bass on '4.W.D. (Low Ratio).' Some of the more accessible songs on "A" (accessible for what Tull fans were used to) like 'Crossfire' and 'Working John, Working Joe' are reminiscent of Anderson's ability to create intricate songs that were easy to listen to, which was what made Jethro Tull so special in the first place, while at least two songs here, 'Black Sunday' and the poignant epitaph 'And Further On' match the elaborate social statements of past works.
Though it began as an Ian Anderson solo project, "A" is delivered by a cohesive, competent group of individuals, even if many of those individuals who came and went over the years can be called "session musicians" (albeit very talented session musicians). Dave Pegg would stay on board, and the ever-faithful Martin Barre, as Anderson pushed the Jethro Tull banner further into different wave lengths throughout the decade. "A" is explorative, and as always with this legendary group, it carries a mystique all its own. (This remaster, though long awaited and deserved, comes with a bonus DVD that was probably included to bring more attention to the "A" re-issue, being a more overlooked album in Jethro Tull's catalog. This lifts the price of course, unfair to those who would rather just own the CD without paying for an extra item they may not want, though collectors may find it a nice addition.)

At first glance at the track list, it would appear that this disc is a small best-of/greatest hits package, but obviously that's not the purpose of this album due to the absence of obligatory tracks like 'Highway To Hell,' 'Back in Black,' 'Dirty Deeds,' the list goes on. Actually, "Who Made Who" is the official soundtrack (minus Roger Miller's 'King of the Road') to Stephen King's 80s horror movie "Maximum Overdrive," a film that has since become a minor cult classic about a day machines and other electronic devices begin to take over the world and kill their human inventors.
The fact that someone like Stephen King chose AC/DC to supply the music to his deliciously tongue-in-cheek movie seems ironic, but it actually fits, and once you watch the film you'll get it (he would do it again by using punk pioneers The Ramones for 'Pet Sematary').
As for the music, the album contains only three then-unreleased songs, but the others are a neat sampler for those interested in material from the first few AC/DC albums with Brian Johnson, with one song from the Bon Scott era ('Ride On'), which is a great song--one of the few, if not the only, sympathetic ballads in AC/DC's catalog--but it's not exactly the best song to use when introducing someone to Bon Scott's contributions to the group, one of the many factors that dispell the "best of" label some put on the album.
As for the three songs written for the film, the track 'Who Made Who' is surprisingly sincere, and slightly more restrained in its approach when compared to AC/DC's signature sound. It's hard to say what the lyrics are about; there are a few references to machines like video games and satellites, so they may relate to the film's theme, but the rest is hard to figure out, but the song is a great one anyway, making it the best AC/DC song that's not about women and/or booze (other good examples being 'Spellbound,' 'Night of the Long Knives,' 'Let There Be Rock,' 'Back in Black,' the rarity 'Cold Hearted Man,' and many others). The two instrumentals meanwhile, 'D.T' and 'Chase the Ace' both display infectious guitar hooks, and probably would have become two more AC/DC classics if lyrics and had been given to them.
Apparently, some different versions and/or mixes were used in the film for some of the songs, and there were even a few brief guitar pieces used that are not present on the album, which would be great to have, but even so "Who Made Who" is a delightful album to own. And as usual, it's fitting for fans to blare from their speakers, even if it's an odds and ends collection.

Many Byrds fans and critics prefer to think of "Farther Along" as the legendary group's real final album. It was the last effort recorded by the talented line-up of founder Roger McGuinn, Gene Parsons, Skip Battin, and Clarence White before McGuinn unceremoniously dissolved this version of the group for a brief, ill-fated reunion in 1973 of the original classic line-up (that recorded "Mr. Tambourine Man" in the 60s), a reunion that is criticized even in the liner notes of this remaster. "Farther Along" is actually one of The Byrds' best albums, making it a pity that it didn't even break the Top 100 (while the following self-titled "reunion album" did far better on the charts). Though Gram Parsons (no relation to Gene) had been out of the band for a couple years, his country-rock influence was still evident, and The Byrds cranked out a set of memorable songs rich in imagery and feeling.
After the notorious post-recording production 'flaws' of the previous album "Byrdmaniax" (which The Byrds were not responsible for), the group decided to produce this album themselves, and it pays off. "Farther Along" is just as (and sometimes more) intimate than anything the group ever released, and the line-up is strong. At times, The Byrds sound as if they are having a rowdy ball in the studio, and at other times the group is solemn and serious. The album's two main territories (rowdiness and seriousness) are perfectly, evenly balanced; there are brawling rockers like McGuinn's signature 'Tiffany Queen,' the roadie-tribute 'B.B. Class Road,' and 'So Fine,' as well as those that are more free-wheeling ('America's Great National Pastime,' co-written by Battin, and the Parsons/White banjo instrumental 'Bristol Steam Convention Blues'), and there's also the slightly more restrained and reflective 'Get Down Your Line.' But the deeper songs on "Farther Along" are what make the album so genuine and unforgettable. White's arrangement of the title traditional hymn reminds one of a faithful church congregation in a grassy field. It's hard to tell whether the sad 'Bugler' is about a dog or a person who gets killed in a highway accident, but it's stirring anyway, and 'Precious Kate' is another fine song co-written by Battin. 'Antique Sandy' is the closest The Byrds came to sounding like Simon & Garfunkel in their later career, but 'Lazy Waters' is the best of these songs; it's emotional vocal carries a lyric of desiring "to be wise again" and the guitar lines sound as if they've been broadcast by NASA from outer space.
This remastered edition contains three bonus tracks that pre-date Roger McGuinn's solo career (plus an unlisted, alternate version of 'Bristol Steam Convention Blues' that fills the second of half of track 14). These unissued versions are every bit as good as the officials; McGuinn's ironic melancholy vocal on 'Born To Rock and Roll,' the radio-ready 'Lost My Drivin' Wheel,' and the slice of Americana 'Bag Full Of Money,' all would have made great songs for The Byrds, and would have fit perfectly as part of the original record, but they're here now and that's what matters.
It's amazing that "Farther Along" was recorded in just four days, and it's an example of the determination of The Byrds to make their music sound the way they wanted it to. The only negative thing is that The Byrds' excellent self-production makes one wonder how much greater the already-accomplished previous albums might have sounded.

"Slow Train Coming" was exactly that-this album was more inevitable than most people realized, and a turning point in the career of Bob Dylan, not just commercially but, obviously, spiritually. Some called the Christian transition "bizarre;" but it's strange how no one complained when Pete Townshend expressed his religious beliefs in Meher Baba, or when actor Richard Gere became a Buddhist, which suggests some sort of prejudice. There's nothing wrong with a celebrity finding religion, but Dylan's transition is another example of the harsh standards that fans set for celebrities. What's worse is that they expect them to live by those standards. (Confusingly enough, Dylan actually said in 1983 "Whoever said I was Christian? I am a humanist!")
Dylan had been wandering for quite sometime, searching for himself in a way, while all at once becoming the "voice of a generation." What that generation probably didn't know was that their leader (a title Dylan denounced), the person they came to believe in, was searching for something to believe in too. And he obviously had good reason; in 1970, the generation he inspired turned on him at the drop of a hat, only that hat was in the form of an album called "Self Portrait," a purposely disastrous album Dylan released in hopes that critics and fans would remember he had told them "don't follow leaders." As he would later say, "I wanted out." They forgave him after another album, "New Morning." One rock and roll headline read "We've Got Dylan Back Again." But did Dylan have Dylan back? He wandered throughout the 70s, singing about what he was becoming increasingly knowledgeable about, his domestic family life (1974's "Planet Waves") and later the trials of a shaky marriage ("Blood On the Tracks," pieces of 1976's "Desire").
Therefore, "Slow Train Coming" is a joy to listen to because it finds Dylan finally at some form of peace. The last time he'd sounded this satisfied was probably on the laid-back country of 1969's "Nashville Skyline." He had been singing about the elements found in this album for years. Only now, Dylan knew that it was God who gave him the gift to do so. One should look back at the echoes of the book of Isaiah in 'All Along the Watchtower,' a song that seemed eerily similar to Mark 13:35. Some would accuse Dylan's lyrics for this album of being judgmental. Not so. He was actually singing about the same kinds of people found in older songs like 'Ballad of a Thin Man;' those who have "been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books," who are "very well read" but still "something is happening" and they "don't know what it is." Dylan is more focused and diligent on "Slow Train Coming" than anything he had ever recorded before, and this clear-headed motivation would even carry into his albums of the 80s and 90s, whether they were Christian or secular. Songs like 'When You Gonna Wake Up' and the subtle-but-anthemic 'Gotta Serve Somebody' are no more "judgemental" than the lyrics of 'Like a Rolling Stone.' As a matter of fact, none of his work was judgemental, they are simply Dylan describing the kinds of characters and truths life is full of. Tracks like 'Precious Angel' and 'Slow Train' meanwhile are the peaks of Bob Dylan's goal on this album.
"Slow Train Coming," in some ways, had the same side-effects as "Self Portrait." The non-Christian fans became disgusted that "their" Bob Dylan could think for himself and not simply follow the beliefs his fans wanted him to follow, rather than his own. Some fans covered their ears, others made excuses and claimed it was just a cry for help. The reviews for mixed, but the record sold, making it a minor classic, and the music within is always superb. Subsequent Christian albums "Saved" and "Shot of Love" were not as well respected, and Dylan would allegedly move back to "secular" recordings with the strong "Infidels"; but even that album contained some references to both Christianity and Judaism influenced by Dylan's research in spiritual Rastafarianism, sparking many theories as to what exactly was influencing the songwriter at that point and whether "secular" was the word to describe it. But it was the best thing he could have done at this point; had Dylan continued to record strictly Christian rock his star would have faded, his audience lost. And whether or not he kept the values of "Slow Train Coming," every word, every note is the solid truth, something Dylan was never afraid to tell.

A lazier artist would have merely taken all of his unreleased material and issued them under the disguise of "new albums." But not Bruce Springsteen, the man who proved you can get rich and famous paying homage to the working class citizens while keeping your dignity and that working-class ethic in tact. As if the 4-CD unreleased/rarity-packed "Tracks" wasn't enough, The Boss (as he is called) released other unreleased songs on the box set's predecessor "Greatest Hits," and three more on the "Tracks" sampler "18 Tracks." And now, an entire disc of odds and ends highlight this expanded best-of collection. So why didn't he just release those songs as different albums under different titles and say "Well there's my new album"? Because Springsteen loves to work, and loves to make music. He released three studio albums in the 90s, and the whole time he had a vault full of unreleased, already recorded material, but decided to release new albums instead.
Some complain that Springsteen has no right to sing about the working class while he lives the life of a successful musician; but by that logic, B.B. King, the late Ray Charles, Muddy Waters, and every other successful blues musician should have put away their guitars and stopped making music the second they became famous. After all, there's no more reason to sing the blues right? Wrong. Like so many others, Springsteen actually knows his subject--he wasn't born with his picture on the cover of "Time" magazine, now was he?
"Essential" is one of the few compilations that actually lives up to its name. True, fans can argue back and forth about what tracks should have been included and which ones should have been left out. One could say "'Adam Raised A Cain' instead of 'The Promised Land,'" or "More material from "The River," "Nebraska," and "The Ghost of Tom Joad"!" It could be endless, but the thirty tracks on the first two discs do a pretty good job at simply defining what each era of Springsteen's career sounded like. It starts with his naive beginnings when his heavy-rhyming lyrics reflected Bob Dylan, then to his confidence as a spokesman for the downtrodden and on disc two, an anthem-maker and commentator on the bleaker aspects of love. Three of the best songs from 2002's wildly successful and highly praised "The Rising" are included, and nicely ended with live performances of two anthems that would come to fit perfectly in the post-September 11th American attitude; the awkwardly dark '41 Shots' and the slightly more optimistic 'Land of Hope and Dreams.'
The third disc meanwhile is worth the price of admission alone, a collection of 12 rarities, unreleased songs, and some soundtrack work. The best cuts are the "Nebraska"-raw 'The Big Payback,' an anthemic live version of Jimmy Cliff's 'Trapped,' the heart-wrenching falsetto performance on 'Lift Me Up,' and 'County Fair,' a simple, beautiful song about a simple, beautiful day.

"Desolation Angels" will probably never be mentioned in the list of rock albums in history that bridged the gap between strong hard rock and Southern flavors, and that's a real shame since this record is one of Bad Company's finest releases.
It's not just because the set was propelled by the greatest, most addictive hit the group ever had, 'Rock and Roll Fantasy,' but because it showcases a hard rocking band in a straight, competent state of mind, obviously dying to move their trademark sound into different territories. Which explains the trips into the old West and rural country hills, imagery that appears on great tracks like 'Evil Wind' and, more evidently, 'Oh Atlanta.' Acoustic guitars have an important role, like in the melodic 'Crazy Circles,' but electricity is never forgotten, such as the worthwhile 'Gone Gone Gone.'
Intriguingly titled, "Desolation Angels" is proof that the critics of the 70s were not the only ones who longed for a change in the FM hard rock format, and Bad Company would try their best to stay on this road on their next album, the unjustly ignored "Rough Diamonds" a long three years later.

At first glance, this song doesn't look very creative on paper. A hard rock artist with a song named 'Wild Dogs' doesn't conjure much to the imagination. For one thing it was recorded and co-written by a notoriously fast-living guitarist, who had played with the rock and roll likes of The James Gang and hard rock legends Deep Purple. And besides all of that, the title 'Wild Dogs' seems like one of the most over-used, generic titles for a rock song.
But it's not; Tommy Bolin's 'Wild Dogs' is one of those rock songs that brings a unique, emotional viewpoint to a subject that was turned into a mere cliche by other rock bands throughout the years. The song finds this accomplished guitarist playing the part of a lonely, wandering drifter, a theme that makes it tempting to say the song was autobiographical. The slight melancholy in Bolin's voice is contrasted and strengthened by able backing instrumentation and a melody that is rough for the ears to form, but enjoyable nonetheless, as the musician sings of the weary, sad sounds of "wild dogs howling in the night."
The song was played during Deep Purple's late 1975 tour of Japan, and a great version from those shows is available on their live archival release "This Time Around: Live In Tokyo '75," and of course Bolin's solo versions, live and in the studio. 'Wild Dogs' is an overlooked gem in hard rock, a great song that demonstrates a reality in the fast-living life of a rock and roll man, and a sadly prophetic one at that, due to Bolin's death from a drug overdose.

Blue Oyster Cult's two previous studio albums had been quite different from one another; "Mirrors" was a mostly light metal collection of pop attempts and the following "Cultosaurus Erectus" had been just the opposite, an almost stripped-down crunching guitar-dominated record. This may be why 1981's "Fire of Unknown Origin" received such a warm welcome; it sounded as gutsy and confident as their mid-70s breakthroughs, but was all the while accessible and easily enjoyable.
The success of "Agents of Fortune" been seemingly accidental; it certainly wasn't what you'd call mainstream for 1976, but it was BOC's unlikely commercial breakthrough. Its follow-up, "Spectres" saw the band trying to find another runaway hit single like they had with 'Don't Fear the Reaper,' yet still keeping their heavy metal poison in tact (the next year they would tone down the metal side). "Fire of Unknown Origin" sounds like a mix of those two albums. It has all of the blazing, dark, cryptic musical imagery of "Agents of Fortune" and their earlier works, yet there is still a catchiness to a lot of the music, making it an album fans will want to play again and again. Old friends such as Sandy Pearlman, Richard Meltzer, and Patti Smith made cameo appearances, but their contributions were mostly limited to being lyrical, as this album catches the band out-showing the outsiders. The title track is one of those BOC songs that's almost-a-ballad-but-not, an overlooked classic, while the album boasts some other classics like the crunching mystic 'Veteran of the Psychic Wars' and 'Heavy Metal: The Black and The Silver,' but the group still managed to score a big hit with 'Burnin' For You' The old imaginary sci-fi movie themes pop up often, notably in 'Joan Crawford (Has Risen From the Grave).' These two songs nicely explain the recipe for the perfect contrast and chemistry between the voices of Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser and Eric Bloom as they sing their respective songs; Roeser sounds like the sincere wandering poet, while Bloom's voice is like the ghoulish captain of a phantom ship.
Blue Oyster Cult wisely decided to embrace their strengths on "Fire of Unknown Origin," as opposed to the previous two experiments. "Mirrors" and "Cultosaurus Erectus" were far from bad albums, but if BOC was looking for another hit album/single while keeping their pioneering metal sound the top priority, this was the perfect blueprint.