JOHN CALE

Album opener Mr Wilson rates with the best of Cale's ballads on the beautiful but ironically titled Vintage Violence. From there the rest of side one slowly descends in quality till we get to Rolleroll, an annoying dirge that has Cale shouting the title phrase constantly towards the end backed by 'gospel vocals'.

Side two likewise opens with the best when John's cover of Heartbreak Hotel comes crawling out of the darkness. Comfortable as a beautiful balladeer and a proto-punker, Hotel has Cale pre-dating post-punk gothic rock with this dark droning deconstructionist version of the Presley classic that features futuristic 'scary' synthesizer textures from Brian Eno. Hotel is nice stuff, great dark humor and way ahead of it's time. Ski Patrol, which follows, has John back to his pleasant artsy pastoral mellow rock mode. I'm not the Loving Kind is nice, but the chorus comes on a little too heavy. The last two songs on side two end the side on a bad note, particularly the narrative on The Jeweller.

I guess you could call this a typical mid-70s album by John Cale, some good stuff, and some not so good.

If there's one album which confirms my suspicion that Cale can't be much of a composer, it's WORDS FOR THE DYING. (Now don't get upset, I know Cale is a superb ROCKER!) When this was first released, it was hailed in the rock press (not in the classical music press) as a masterpiece worthy of Brahms or Benjamin Britten. Well, let me disabuse you: there are no tunes here worth speaking of, the orchestra sounds chaotic and uninspired, and worst of all Cale (who can be such an amazingly sensitive vocalist) gives the impression he does not even understand the Dylan Thomas poems he has chosen to set to music. No, this is clearly a dud of the same magnitude as Deep Purple's CONCERTO FOR ROCK GROUP AND ORCHESTRA, and unfortunately there aren't even any Ritchie Blackmore solos to tempt you. The two brief "Songs Without Words" (i.e. piano solo pieces) Cale has attached to his suite are also devoid of interest. Only "The Soul of Carmen Miranda" (a simple electronic pop song, featuring Eno on synth) is Cale at his near-best.

"Almost" I say, because SEDUCING DOWN THE DOOR was very thoughtfully put together, and it includes representative tracks from all the major albums Cale released during this period, including a few that are very hard to find on CD.

Thus, listeners can enjoy themselves with such obvious highlights from Cale's career as "Amsterdam", "A Child's Christmas in Wales", "Fear is A Man's Best Friend", "Thoughtless Kind" and "Cordoba": songs which are easily on the same level as anything ever written by John Lennon, Neil Young, Nick Drake, Randy Newman or that OTHER guy from that well-known New York Band Sponsored By Andy Warhol. There are acoustic ballads, orchestral ballads and there's plenty of near-psychotic rock 'n' roll: a little of everything, really!

Nevertheless, a few of the choices seem perverse. "Buffalo Ballet" and "Ship of Fools" would have been far more suitable selections from FEAR than the dreary, eight-minute "Gun", and surely the haunting "Cable Hogue" (off HELEN OF TROY) far more deserved to be here than relatively minor tracks such as "Dirty Ass Rock 'n Roll" or "Pablo Picasso".

So if you're already familiar with John Cale and you like his style, but you don't own any of his albums, I suggest you go straight for FEAR or MUSIC FOR A NEW SOCIETY, and take it from there.

However, if you simply adore anthologies, and you want one that has been compiled with a great deal of respect for the artist concerned, you can't go wrong with the album under review.

Quite a lot of first-rate material from Cale's early, sometimes lushly orchestrated albums has been included, e.g. "Paris 1919", "Mr Wilson" and "A Child's Christmas in Wales": each and every single one of them melodies to die for! I am especially happy that a space has been found for "Ship of Fools", probably my favourite John Cale song of all time.

Cale's angry, haunted and paranoic side is equally well-represented, by "Fear is a Man's Best Friend", "Leaving It Up To You" and "Cable Hogue": dark and haunting classics all, undoubtedly familiar to anyone who's attended more than one of Cale's live concerts.

John Cale at his saddest can be heard on "If You Were Still Around" and "I Keep A Close Watch", while those who enjoy no holds barred rock'n'roll will undoubtedly be cheered by the splendid "Guts". The compilers of the album can even be applauded for digging up a few relatively obscure gems (from the HONI SOIT album, if I remember it well): "Riverbank" and "Wilson Joliet". Both are definitely worth hearing.

My only complaint is about the dreary, eight minute long rocker "Gun". It would have been far more useful to replace this with one or two proper SONGS, such as "Amsterdam", "Hanky Panky Nohow" or "Chinese Envoy". But nothing is perfect, and some people may even enjoy "Gun" because of Phil Manzanera's extended guitar solo.

Oh, if the entire album were as strong as its original A-side, I'd gladly call it another classic and award it five stars. For my money, Cale has never topped the magical sequence of "Fear Is A Man's Best Friend" / "Buffalo Ballet" (a prime candidate for the loveliest melody he's written) / "Barracuda" (that must be the great Archie Leggat on bass! Or is it really Cale himself?) and "Ship Of Fools". The latter sounds like a track that accidentally fell off PARIS 1919. I would definitely include it in any single-disc 'best of', but what's it about, really? 'We picked up Dracula in Memphis, / it was just about the break of day, / and then hastily prayed for our souls to be saved, / there was something in the air that made us kind of weary...' The way Cale sings these words is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes (and to think there's people who can't stand his voice!) but surely it's a magnificent nonsense poem?

Unfortunately, even the A-side contains one dud: the Eno-influenced 'Emily', with Eno himself generating ocean waves in the background. 'Dare to be boring, dare to annoy people' is what Cale must have been thinking. On the original B-side, things get worse. "The Man Who Couldn't Afford To Orgy" is still superior pop, and "You Know More Than I Know" sounds gloriously sad, but the eight minute "Gun" is a totally forgettable rocker, Phil Manzanera's guitar solo firmly going nowhere, and "Momamma Scuba", the album closer, is annoying; nothing more.

So there we are: six tracks which, taken together, definitely warrant five stars, and another three that are little more than filler. If you don't own FEAR yet, I suggest you get it as part of the magnificent two-disc compilation THE ISLAND YEARS: remastered, with bonus tracks, full booklet and all.

Problem is, no-one seems to understand what this album is ABOUT. Although Cale's voice had a neurotic edge to it from the start, PARIS 1919's tunes are far less angst-ridden or aggressive than anything you find on later albums such as FEAR or MUSIC FOR A NEW SOCIETY. Most of the material seems to be about historical characters (Dylan Thomas, Graham Greene, Greta Garbo) and historical events (The First World War, the Spanish Civil War), but what exactly is Cale trying to tell us? All the characters and events merely seem to be coming to him in dreams and visions. All Cale ever did was write his dreamiest songs about them. It's a surrealist's chocolate paradise!

For me personally, simply enumerating the album's song titles is enough: "A Child's Christmas in Wales", "Andalucia". "Paris 1919", "Half Past France", "Antarctica Starts Here": they're all exquisitely orchestrated bonbons which make the best possible use of the strings, the horns and the members of Little Feat which play on the album. Although Cale kept trying, he never again managed to write such an extraordinary sequence of unforgettable melodies. My personal favourite is "Hanky Panky Nohow", which includes the memorable line: "Nothing frightens me more / than religion at my door".

I look at Cale's old soulmates (Reed, Cohen, Nico, Bowie, Eno) and ask myself if any of them have released a more unified or convincing album. The answer must be a resounding NO.

In conclusion, although FRAGMENTS OF A RAINY SEASON has its flaws (these days I tend to skip half of the album), the good stuff here is really superb. Top-drawer "art-rock" - what else can I say? I only hope you can still get hold of a copy, since the CD originally appeared on Fnac Music, the house label of France's leading books-and-multimedia chain.

As for the songs included here, any Cale freak will tell you that, throughout the years, 'Cable Hogue', 'Close Watch' and 'Leaving it up to you' went on to become much-loved concert classics (usually in stripped-down solo versions). They're all miniature masterpieces, and it's good to have them in their original versions. 'My Maria', 'Engine', 'Save Us' and 'Sudden Death' are as unsettling and intimidating as anything you'll find on BERLIN by Cale's old colleague and rival, Lou Reed - only not as melodious. 'Pablo Picasso' is an early cover version of a Jonathan Richman song which David Bowie would, much much later, try to make his own (needless to add that Cale's version has a menacing edge).

Generally speaking, HELEN OF TROY cannot be called a soothing listening experience. It would be no exaggeration to call it a more painful version of the earlier FEAR. If you need convincing proof that rock music is not just for empty-headed adolescents, and if you're at all interested in John Cale's career, this album can only be called "an excellent addition to your rock music collection".

Not all is punky and harsh on here though. Many of these songs recall the beautiful pastoral air of earlier Cale albums. Some of these more laid back songs such as Buffalo Ballet and Ship of Fools are classic sentimental Cale masterpieces, while others such as Emily and You Know More than I Know come across as maudlin and insincere. Of the more rockin proto-punk numbers, Gun takes the cake. This is one of the best hard rockers that John has ever recorded. I'll never forget the first time I heard Gun, music this harsh was hard to come by in the early to mid 70s. Phil Manzenera's ultra-treated Enofied guitar slashes and burns while the barroom piano bangs away and Cale spits out harsh narrative lyrics that are reminiscent of modern film noir masterpiece Fargo. Bad people with bad plans that go wrong amid a wave of stupid violence and mayhem. Towards the end of the song Eno's guitar treatments take over the chaos, Phil Manzenera's amazing guitaristics never sounded better. Unfortunately there are also a couple other songs on here that are just plain bad.

If you are a John Cale fan, there are some good songs on here and it is well worth owning just for that.

You will find there usual acoustic Cale pop-rock sound, with some proto-punk roots, but all that is only a part of this album's music. Unusually enough, all the sound is full off electronic sounds ( Eno collaborates on this recording!) and samples. But don't you worry , music is far from modern time electronic repetitive structures and demonstration of wide possibilities of electronic sound devices. The album is very acoustic (!), with great lyrics, excellent melodies and most important - that music has a soul!

It is always a signature of great musicians - even using modern devices and some modern sounds, it is John Cale album. And another great name there - Brian Eno - is very important. One of ambient grand, he uses all synth possibilities as only great musicians can do it - very tastefully, more as painting with watercolours, than filling the air with unacceptable noise.

As a result, we have great album of modern music: placed somewhere between pop- art rock, it is accessible for many listeners, but because of it's high esthetical standard for sure is much more important, than just another pop-rock album. Music in general is very intelligent and tasteful ( often remind me David Bowie works), artsy enough to be attractive for many art-rock lovers.