CHILLIWACK

Chilliwack had made the transition from psych band the Collectors several years prior, and with this record they complete their metamorphosis into a full-fledged new wave rock band. Both the band and the album could have been poster-children for the death of a generation of good music that was marked by the record industry creative dearth known as the eighties.

On the up side for the band, this became their biggest-selling album as far as I know, having been certified gold in Canada and spawned a couple of minor hits throughout North America, one of which I actually remember. The band was riding the wave of Canadian AOR popularity as a b-list bastard stepbrother of headliners like April Wine, Loverboy, Triumph, Toronto, Refugee (the Canadian one, eh) and Saga (sorry Saga fans, it’s a bitter pill). They were never as big as any of those bands though, but the two Billboard-charting singles probably paid their houses off if they were prudent with the money.

There are some humorous moments, even if there are no progressive ones. The opening “Sign Here” starts off as a sort of Gregorian chant with the band reading the actual text of a recording contract, before Bill Henderson and the boys launch into a paint-by-numbers tempo complete with a weak vocal tirade against sleazy record company executives that John Fogerty could have improved immensely had the band given him a chance to red-pen it before it was recorded.

“(So You) Wanna Be a Star” is – well, just look at the title. Imagine a rhythm sort of like Loverboy’s “Little Girl” or anything the Greg Kihn Band ever recorded, along with the lyrics from any of the thousands of ‘beat-down-by-the-cold-and-heartless-recording-industry’ songs you’ve ever heard, and I think you’ll get the idea.

It should be noted that in some respects Chilliwack was in a tough spot at the time they recorded this album, so I suppose some consideration should be given for that. The totally awesome but horribly managed Mushroom Records label had pretty much imploded by this point, and the band had just managed to secure a contract with the tackily-named Solid Gold Records. That and the overall heavy pressure throughout the industry to cultivate MTV-friendly images for recording artists made things kind of difficult for musicians who didn’t own their own label/studio, or have the clout to demand full creative license for whatever they recorded. Come to think of it, even that didn’t guarantee a good record (I’m talking to you Rod Stewart).

But regardless, a pig in a dress is still a pig and anyone who was post-puberty and pre-senility in 1981 knows exactly the kind of music that was appearing on MTV and the airwaves (and yes, Chilliwack did have at least one video on MTV at the time).

The hits were “My Girl” (“gone, gone, gone – she been gone so long” – remember?), and “I Believe”, which is admittedly a fairly decent acoustic guitar ballad even if the lead singer sounds an awful lot like Orleans’ John Hall (“Still the One who can scratch my….” – rememb….., aw, forget it).

Another amusing tidbit is the very Jeff Lynne-sounding “(Don't Wanna) Live for a Livin”, which features a muffled yet glib rock-star retort to the music business (eg., “kiss my ass”). Somehow it was considered clever in Canada at the time to include verbal mooning of the record business in songs. Let’s see, we had Klaatu, who somehow convinced Capitol Records executive Rupert Perry to record himself telling them to ‘sell out’ on the disastrous ‘Endangered Species’ album; this clever bit from Chilliwack; and the totally hilarious “If You See Kay” from April Wine’s ‘Power Play’ album. I’m sure there are others – feel free to look some up yourself and have a belated chuckle.

Anyway, there’s not a whole lot else to say about this album. The band was embroiled in litigation over their bailout from Mushroom at the time, so they couldn’t even launch a tour to support the record, but despite that fact that they managed to make a fair amount of money off it anyway thanks to MTV and FM radio. Half the band would end up reforming as the Headpins a few years later, another eighties band whose records can be found in mass quantities in cutout bins today alongside the Babys Greatest Hits and most of Head East’s discography.

Chilliwack had a couple of moderately good albums at the beginning of the seventies that retained just a touch of the psych fuzz and hard edge that the Collectors album had in the sixties. But by this point of their career any magic they may have had was long gone, and what was left was a trio of musicians just trying to make a living in a terrible environment to be trying to make decent music. With this album I can’t say they really even tried. One star and not recommended.

peace

From the awful quasi title track with the same name as a Led Zeppelin classic to the limp ballads "So Strong" and "Road to Paradise" and a variety of other sub-tepid rockers like "let it all Begin" and "Are You with me", nary a whiff of prog can be discerned, but that wouldn't matter if the songwriting, music, vocals, or lyrics were good, which they aren't. The only songs of any distinction occur in sequence - "Guilty", with a suitably paranoid mood and bass lines, and the excellent "148 Heavy", which seems almost like a thematic followup to some of the better material on the "Fly By Night" album.

If the also-rans here were even tolerable, I could justify 2 stars, but the album represents the near total breakdown of the late 70s rock scene and little more, and we all know that paradise was already lost by that time anyway.

While the first of the four side is dominated by short tracks (5 min max), there are some real lush moments (the organ-loaded Rosie comes to mind and the instrumental interplay in Ride-Out >> Hi Peter ;-), but the change we had heard on their previous album is generally confirmed: the West-Coast rock influences are here to stay and this is especially evident on the vocal-heavy Ridin'.

The second side of the first disc is rather different comprising of a short, almost meaningless acoustic Always and a gigantic almost 14-mins Changing Reels. This is the first of the three monster tracks loading the rest of the album. The track is an extended exercise on an idea/theme with some improvisations, but it never gets messy and never overstays its welcome either. While not fascinating, this is an honest work that was so typical of those years, a bit indulgent but not over-indulgent. Nevertheless these type of tracks are usually more suited as a live recording rather than a studio one.

On first side of the second disc stands a 6-movement suite (for a whopping almost 19 mins) Music For A Quiet Time. While this track might appear very ambitious from a progressive point of view (we are all hoping for another What Is Love epic from the Collector's debut, naturally), it really is mostly a very ambient dreamy trip and in this case there are lengths, and even if some moments are gaspingly beautiful (some parts of Shine), there are also experimental moments (the Clap/Chants) where you're better off zonked-out of your mind to get a load of this stuff. I hope you saved some of that weed for the Whistle/Flute Pads, because you will need it, this time. The rest of the track is of the same acabit/vein. Yes this third side is definitely over-indulgent and does overstay its welcome, no matter how experimental they get. But I want their dope dealer's address; the man has some mean stuff ;-)

The final track Night-Morning is downright spacey, making Saucerful Floyd sound like teenyboppers. In many ways, we are close to Krautrock by the cosmic side of this track, reminiscent of the early Tangerine Dream, Cluster, Popol Vuh and Kraftwerk, but a more acoustic and real instrument version. As much as the previous track is a lot of rubbish (or psych mumbo-jumbo), as much as this one is easily their most worthy on this album and although completely unrepresentative of the Chilliwack name and sound, it stands easily as their best work, outside The Collectors.

Although there is a slight deception after Chilliwack's first two albums, us progheads hoping for more structured albums after their two Collectors releases, there is no doubt that Chilliwack was still out for musical adventures, but most likely not being aware that the ground they were breaking was not fascinating.

Still headed by guitarist Bill Henderson and multi-instrumentalist Claire Lawrence (whose flute and sax works are definitely making the difference), the group adopt a more west coast sound than in their previous incarnation, but also manage to sound like early Tull (on Sundown), sometimes slightly Amerindians (the chants and drum rhythms on Seventeens Summer, even if it allows for a Diddley passage) - maybe in homage to the ethnic mask on the artwork - and downright hippy-trippy and reflective (Ballad).

But the group still retained some typical 60's twist such as the fuzzed-out guitars (Got You Fixed's wild solo) with some bluesy elements (the lengthy Rain-O) and some cool soloing (the good guitar on the great closing track Chain Train) but almost getting lost (but not quite), yet still retaining the dreamy feel. The album slowly dissolves into a quiet flute and bass outro.

Please note that the Red Fox Cd-reissue of this album mentions 1972 as a release date, but this is wrong, the album being from 70. This "debut" album is not quite of the calibre of their previous albums, and if less-inspired, there are still tons of moments that lets you see the band's brilliance, and letting you hope for a better follow-up.