Almost everyone in the music press except for Mr. Dadomo gave this album glowing reviews. He wasn`t one who was going to fall for the charms of Debbie Harry and her band.
Read on!
This gentleman doesn`t prefer Blondie
Blondie: “Blondie” (Private Stock PS2023, Import) **
Album review by Giovanni Dadomo
WORD HAS it that it was none other than vintage Four Seasoner Frankie Valli (he owns a large part of Private Stock apparently) who gave the thumbs up to Blondie’s signing. Whether Mr. Valli heard the sound of pop chart cash registers when he saw the group or was merely entranced by lead singer Deborah Harry’s petite baby doll beauty is something only he can answer, but considering the vinyl results of his decision leaves one in considerable doubt as to the wisdom of his actions.
Because, when you get down to brass tacks ‘Blondie`is — and a name like that just begs for negative conclusions to be phrased like this — a pretty dumb affair. The fact that Debbie’s vocal powers leave more than a little to be desired is perhaps the least of the quintet’s problems. After all,`good singing’ hardly matters in rock ‘n’ roll, as everyone from that other princess of New York, la Smith, to you and me him or her has spent the last ten years proving.
It`s just that nobody here seems to really be trying very hard. Specifics: the basic Blondie menu, as first manifested on the (Se) ‘X Offender’ 45 — included herein and, along with surfin’ flipside ‘In The Sun’ making for some of the platter’s most listenable moments, is in the late ’50s early ’60s US chart pop mould, the heroes and heroines conjured most frequently being Phil Spector and his various ladies and gentlemen. Thus Blondie’s ‘Little Girl Lies’ immediately (and lastingly, which is the real sin) evokes `Let The Little Girl Dance’ as recorded by I forget who but he wore a lot of Brylcreem of Us equivalent way back when.
Innovations (hey man, it’s 1977) seem to be confined to replacing the ornate production effects of a young Spector or Shadow Morton with an almost totally bland lack of depth and colour and — where the Pepsodent-grinned chanteuses Blondie so often evokes were nothing if not virginal — a grubby line in double entendre. For example: ‘If it’s alright with you/I could give you some head and shoulders to lie on.’ Pretty rude, huh?
Oh dear — and a quick scan of the titles had promised so much more. Okay that ‘Rip Her To Shreds’ should turn out to be exactly the misogynistic work-out those of us weaned on Lou Reed might have expected — this delivered with some nauseous twinkling of arch-bitch style even if Wayne County would probably have done a much better job. What disappoints though is that `Rifle Range’ should turn out to be just another place for a heroine to wail ‘I lost my heart’, and even worse that closing drive-in double bill of ‘Kung Fu Girls’ and `Attack Of The Giant Ants’ should turn out so deadly uninspiring. I mean, its end of the world sound effect middle apart, ‘Giant Ants’ ain’t nothing but a bloody conga, and thus a poor cousin countless times removed of such genuine tributes to trash movies as ‘The Rocky Horror Show’s ‘Science Fiction (Double Feature)’.
Strange too that with looks like Debby’s available (and already delightfully displayed in such as `Punk’ magazoon) Private Stock’s art department should have settled for such a duff cover.
Good points: there’s plenty of Farfisa and sometimes Blondie sounds a little bit like Jim Morrison.
Yeah. And when I say dumb, I mean dumb D-U-M-B.
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