The Dead Daisies, "Holy Ground" (SPV)
Since it would be a delight to hear Glenn Hughes sing CraigsList, his alliance with the rock-pensioner supergroup the Dead Daisies comes as a welcome stopgap in the absence of a new album by his Black Country Communion, his California Breed or Hughes himself.
The first half of "Holy Ground" seems modeled on its lone cover, Humble Pie's "30 Days in the Hole," a wonderfully boneheaded '70s cruncher wherein Hughes marks himself as the only vocalist with the range and credentials to rival the gorgeous scream of the late Steve Marriott; to hear the famously reformed Hughes wail about coke spoons and greasy whores really toasts the ol' cockles. The efforts of bassist-singer Hughes, guitarist Doug Aldrich, drummer Deen Castronovo and founding guitarist David Lowy, though, can't boost the six original "Hole"-o-grams beyond pedestrian pathways.
Seems like the record can't get going till it slows down. "Fate" burgeons with dynamics and panoramas; the skillful Aldrich (severely underexploited here) slips in a lyrical solo on the blues-informed "Unspoken"; Hughes feels the distant imminence of the awesome Presence on the concluding "Far Away," which journeys from pretty open-chord picking into a heavy change and an extended coda that does not go gentle.
At 69, Hughes has been pondering whether he should have broken up his exciting teen-years trio, Trapeze -- a moot point, since both mates have flown to the Beyond. But he has toured on the Deep Purple catalog, and seems to excavate a new niche every year or two. Which is to say that he aims to please, and he does.
George Lynch & Jeff Pilson, "Heavy Hitters" (Deadline)
Dokken is so much better without Dokken, as guitar whiz George Lynch and bassist Jeff Pilson prove again. Colluding with drummer Brian Tichy and Earshot vocalist Wil Martin (a strong, pure melodist in the Tony Harnell tradition), they made an album of covers.
Which usually signals an empty gas tank. "Heavy Hitters," though, is a joy. Lynch diverts his twiddly propensities into feel and precision, supporting imaginative rearrangements of songs you never knew could kick so much ass.
To experience L&P's "One of Us" (a superb Eric Bazilian ballad written for Joan Osborne) is to appreciate its building power and desperate sentiments on a new level. Did you imagine that Carole King's "I Feel the Earth," Rufus' "You Got the Love" or Madonna's "Music" could get a rise from heavy petting? Or that Prince's "Kiss" could dowse deeper wellsprings of funk? Or that "Ordinary World" could make you reconsider Duran Duran?
Huh. Sometimes, gotta like a surprise.