HIGH BIAS -- lead review

THE SAINTS
Spit the Blues Out
(Last Call/Raven)
There's always been more than a bit of the blues in the music of the Saints. The long-running Australian punk rock band's 1977 album (I'm) Stranded carried on the garage band tradition of white boys trying to be black, with R&B melodies and rhythms revved up like oversexed hot rods. The only surprise, then, is why it's taken bandleader Chris Bailey 25 years to do the straight blues rock record he's always had in him. Then again, once you give Spit the Blues Out a good listen, you may understand why he put it off.

Bailey's biggest strength has always been his ability to adapt his strong songwriting to a variety of different moods and styles, letting his tunes dictate whatever format best suits them. When he writes to order, as he does on most of this record, the results aren't nearly as impressive. Shoehorning his songs into the blues format sometimes works—the 12-bar traditionalism of "A Gentleman Came Walking" gets the set off to a fine start. But he too often substitutes warmed-over rave-ups for genuine inspiration. The rockabilly of "You Got a Tale Babe" sounds unconvincing at best, while the overlong jamming of "The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship Louis" takes the wind out of the sails of a decent song. In fact, excessive song length is a problem throughout. It doesn't help that what should be hot-shit guitar flash sounds tame.

He tries to make up for the lack of inspiration in his originals with a bevy of covers from the catalogs of Howlin' Wolf, Elmore James and Bo Diddley. Alas, his renditions, while competent, are nothing special, lowlighted by an especially lame version of "Before You Accuse Me." Even the five live bonus tracks, which include previous Saints classics like "Good Friday" and "Ghost Ships," don't generate much excitement, due to sub-par sound.

The elements are all there for a triumph—Bailey obviously loves the blues, and his distinctive voice is in fine form—but they just don't come together without the creative impetus to back them up. The album only really takes off when he puts format aside to just do what he does best: write melodic, no-fixed-genre rock songs and sing them like his soul was on the line. Thus, the pop-inflected folk rock of "Waiting For God (Oh)," the patented Bailey balladry of "Drunken Angel" and the minor-key midtempo title anthem easily rise above the formulaic hard R&B of the rest of the album. Chris Bailey has taken the Saints farther beyond the band's punk roots than anyone ever thought possible and has made some incredible music in the process. So he can be allowed the occasional misstep like Spit the Blues Out, as long as he doesn't make a habit of it. Michael Toland

For fans of: the Pretty Things, the Guy Forsyth Band, Eric Clapton's From the Cradle