THE WILD SEEDS
I'm Sorry, I Can't Rock You All Night Long: 1984-1989
(Aznut)
Austin's New Sincerity scene of the 80s produced a veritable plethora of great music, from the literate folk/pop of the Reivers and the quirky angularities of Glass Eye to the drunken pub rock of Doctor's Mob and the hard-driving power of the True Believers. Perhaps the best but least-heralded (at least outside of Austin) of the bunch was the Wild Seeds, a lyrical fireball of a rock 'n' pop band that revolved around the witty songwriting of leader Michael Hall. The Seeds loved roots rock, power pop, punk, country and soul, and earnestly attempted to meld every style of music they liked into one cohesive whole. That they succeeded more often than not is a testament to their drive, ambition and Hall's sturdy, melody-first songwriting. Their music holds up as well or better than anything produced in the Reagan years.
The Seeds produced three records during their half-dozen years of existence: 1985's six-song EP Life is Grand (Life in Soul City), 1986's Brave, Clean + Reverent and 1998's masterful triumph Mud, Lies & Shame, the only one of their albums to get wide distribution outside of Texas. (Briefly, anyway; Passport, the indie label that released it, went under not long after its release.) All these records are long out-of-print, of course, and unlikely to see CD reissue. Michael Hall, who has a half-dozen fine solo albums to his credit, attempts to alleviate diehards' suffering with I'm Sorry, I Can't Rock You All Night Long: 1984-1989, a collection of the band's "greatest hits," alternate takes, demos and live cuts. Purists may quibble with song selection, but it would be hard to find an hour of rock 'n' roll music as enjoyable as this.
The set begins with "She Said," the tense, jangly pop tune that kicks off the Seeds' first release. The hyperactive "Come Out and Play," written by then-guitarist Phil Reed, and an ultrafrantic "Let's Walk," recorded for a radio show, close out the survey of the group's early years. The Seeds truly came into their own with Brave, Clean + Reverent; the shiny rocker "Sharlene," about an affair with a transvestite, and the lumimous pop song "Big Mimosa Sky" remain two of their best tracks. Other highlights from this era include the ambivalent punk tune "Love Will Make You Weak" and a live version, recorded at the band's final show, of "Pure Heart," a reflective number that some critics felt epitomized the New Sincerity movement. (Hall claims to feel both honored and insulted by this.)
As good as this version of the band was, however, the Seeds hit their creative peak with their next incarnation, as singer Kris McKay and bassist Paul Swift augmented the core trio of Hall, guitarist Bo Solomon and drummer Joey Shuffield, now of Fastball. (Guitarist Randy Franklin joined near the end of the band's life.) Mud, Lies & Shame should appropriately appear on any Best of the 80s list, despite its distribution-induced scarcity, and the songs taken from it are the finest on this compilation. The sardonic rocker "Debi Came Back" appears in an inferior alternate version, but that doesn't diminish its hopped-up sense of fun. "You Will Be Married to a Jealous Man," with superlative harmonies from McKay, offers yet another twisted take on true love. "Long Gone Train" and "Like a Fall" shimmer and shake fluently as well. Three songs wrestle for the title of best Shame song, however: the lovely McKay showcase "All This Time"( "Kris would get tears in her eyes when she sang it," notes Hall), the snowball-down-the-mountain epic "If I Were a Storm," with fiery soloing from Franklin, and the hilarious send-up singalong of the title track, the closest thing the band had to a national hit. It's a pleasure to have these tunes on CD at long last.
The set ends with a quartet of recordings that have gone unreleased until now. Swift's "This Little Town" is from one of the band's final demos, and is a fine pop tune. "Leaving Egypt," from the same demo, "I'm Gonna Get Drunk With a Good Friend of Mine" and "I Want to Watch You Age," both taken from the band's final show, would later appear in different versions on Hall's debut solo album Quarter to Three. The cuts here are a bit ragged, but show Hall building to another songwriting peak. Alas, the band wouldn't enjoy the fruits of his labors, finally shutting down at the end of 1989. But the group left behind some great music, and with the unlikelihood of their records seeing proper CD reissues, I'm Sorry, I Can't Rock You All Night Long makes for a fine tribute to the brilliance of the Wild Seeds. Michael Toland
For fans of: Guadalcanal Diary, the Damnations, the Reivers