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". ..vn ..::..::".rh". n"}}:. .::{.:r:C::"."}x....rb''n' S.Y,:;.:::'a:3.:..n.:+! ..:...::..:.Y-::v:}}.:.">.:"::2.:YY:.:SF.:. 3.:"iX.".a".:.:::?Y..Y:t ;"YX<4. ":i:"Y:":t"Mti.:. t {"YY::"Y:t .................. r... . . . ;iv....:.. r t s y pro ion, 'Yachts becal m-ed b duct* YachtsWithoutRadar The Yachts PolydorPPD 1-6270 By MARK DIGHTON Where else could The Yachts go after their perfectly incendiary self-titled debut album of last year? Down, that's, where. Of course, that's not necessarily traumatic given the exceptionally high quality of The Yachts, but to deny that there are problems with the recently released Yachts Without Radar is to overlook some minor-but unavoidable-faults. The Yachts have always tread a fine line between endearing and annoying, but that was always part of their ap- peal. "Cheeky" is probably the only ad- jective that properly describes their peculiarly British brand of brash charm. Like a successful con man, The Yachts was impudent, but so un- deniably pleasing that you rarely noticed its harsh qualities. It had something to do with playing the game to the hilt, which The Yachts don't do on Yachts Without Radar. In fact, the first album was so overwhelming in its momentum' that one never got a chance to judge the songs relative to each other. Once it started, it was impossible to stop. Not so with Yachts Without Radar, on which it is possible to not only recognize but even cue out the less memorable songs. THIS FACT is partially due to the slower pace of the latest album. Unlike their first album, Without Radar allows the listener time to think about the songs and thus recognize their deficien- cies. The beat is just too slow, though it's hard to say why. It certainly can't be due to the rhythm section, Bob Bellis is an essential pop drummer in the Clement Burke (of Blondie) mold. The new bassist, Glyn Havard, is not par-_ ticularly amazing but is a clear im- provement over their previous bassist. The only other possible cause of the trace of lethargy displayed on this album is its producer, Martin Rushent-most known for his produc- tion work with The Stranglers and The Buzzcocks. Unfortunately, this faultfinding seems to fit. A major factor in the more abrasive sound of this new album is the downplayed importance of the keyboards in defining the group's sound. The Yachts was produced by Richard Gotteher (who also produced Blondie's first two) who, being a '50's songwriter-producer, understood the importance of a full orchestral keyboard sound. Rushent seems to be more influenced by The Cars and The Stranglers in removing Harry Priest- man's souped-up, devil-may-care organ from the driving position to a safer and more cynical position on the sidelines where it provides little more than at- mospheric fill and satiric comments. The only problem with this is that The Yachts were already on the verge of being alienating, and this change may well have pushed them over the line. If you think that this review has become overly obsessed with a few minor production problems, you're ab- solutely right. Part ot it is the usual critics' need to find cause and effect fect relationships for every misplaced sound on an album so that they can make it sound like they know what they're talking about. But mostly it's just the Yachts fan in me that wants to know what went wrong. I listened to The Yachts non-stop and repeatedly. Not only did Yachts Without Radar not impress me at first, but even once I got comfortable with it and started to really love most of the songs, I found that I couldn't listen to even one entire side without it grating on my nerves. AS I SAID, though, this album is not lacking in good songs. In small doses, it is an enjoyable and powerful set of songs. "Now I'm Spoken For," the single that preceded the album, is not as instantly memorable as most of The Yachts, but it soon becomes another one of those Yachts songs that you find yourself humming everywhere. "I Couldn't Get Along Without You" is a simple-but simply perfect-punk rave-up. "Ghost in My House" is perhaps the best Motown adaptation in quite a while. It is not as wild as The Slit's "Heard it Through the Grapevine," but is less forced than Magazine's "Thank You (Falletinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" and more memorable than Elvis' "Getting Mighty Crowded." In fact, "Ghost" fits so well into the Yachts sound with its mysterioso gospel organ that it's hard to believe that it wasn't written with them in mind. The real surprise of the album, however, is "Revelry," a fast-paced and convincing call to total abandon. It was written by Bob Bellis and Martin Watson, the drummer and guitarist respectively, who have emerged on this album as a songwriting duo every bit as engaging as the (previously thought) inimitable Harry Priestman. Another nice surprise is a few really nice mid- tempo tunes afforded by the slower pace of this album. (See, every cloud does have its silver lining.) "Lifesaving's Easy" is perhaps the best, allowing plenty of space for the listener to marvel at the exceptional vocal clarity and control at the Yacht's command. This review is somewhat problematic in that I can't given the simple black and white judgment that most critics want to give and most record buyers want to hear. I'm afraid that if I can say the album doesn't work as a whole (which I think is a fair statement) a lot of people will avoid it and miss out on some great songs ... because the songs themselves do work, in the whole. Perhaps the solution is to buy the album and only play selected cuts when you're listening to singles. Ultimately, it's up to you to decide. The slide guitar king By MARK COLEMAN Veteran Chicago bluesman and slide guitar virtuoso J. B. Hutto put in an impressive performance Wednesday night in front of a disappointingly small audience at Rick's American Cafe. Hutto is one of- the few remaining practitioners of the older, Elmore James-inspired style of guitar playing, eschewing the pyrotechnics and complex arrangements of more recent Chicago blues for the mind-shattering stream of bent notes provided by the slide technique. Hutto's whole approach to the blues gains its strength through simplicity. After fingering the rudiments of each riff, he resorts to the slide for solos; scraping harsh metallic drone and blending clean, shimmering highs. Hutto made no attempt to engage the audience's attention apart from his restless activity on guitar. Not even bothering to announce song titles he would turn in-between tune-ups into introductions, at times even catching the band off-guard. THE BAND provided appropriate accompaniment, bashing enthusiastically behind Hutto's straightforward assault. Second guitarist Steve Coveny followed J.B.'s leads nicely, playing some snaking solo lines that complimented Hutto's slide work nicely though his rhythm work was all but inaudible. The traditional opening sets performed by the band alone were surprisingly lackluster, especially the misguided blues remake of "Flip, Flop, Fly." Why young blues sidemen feel obligated to play rodk and roll remains a mystery. Btit the band's heavy-handed (at times ham-fisted) rhythmic assault worked wonderfully behind Hutto's penchant for up-tempo shuffling. They stayed loose and relaxed through originals like "Fifteen Cent Phone Call" and "Too Much Alcohol" as well as honoring audience requests like "Sweet Home Chieago." Nothing outrageous or earth shattering here, just an evening of solid boogie broken up by J. B. Hutto's psychotic slide breaks. What more could one ask for? The RC/BRECHT COMPANY Presents The Resistible Rise of Arlure Ui July 16-20 East Quad Auditorium Wed.-Sat. 8p.m., Sun. 2p.m. TICKETS $3 & $4 AT DOOR C 0763=0176 for information Daily Classifieds Bring Results! Call 764-0557 NOW SHOWING AT (PG) THE MOVIES AT BRIARWOOD