RIYL: REO Speedwagon, Air Supply, the Grinch
Their name has long been synonymous with toothless, Wonder Bread-flavored AOR, but once upon a time, REO Speedwagon really did aspire to be a kick-ass rock band – and they showed flashes of getting there over a 15-year period, occasionally managing to work up a decent sweat during minor FM classics like Hi Infidelity and Good Trouble, only to be thwarted at every turn by the soft, pale presence of vocalist Kevin Cronin. He’s had his moments as a songwriter, but as a singer, Cronin is about as rock & roll as Liberace, and his fondness for schmaltz has steadily robbed the band of whatever limited credibility it might have enjoyed. And speaking of schmaltz, here’s Not So Silent Night, a fascinatingly dreadful collection of holiday tracks “with a unique REO Speedwagon musical twist,” which is publicist-speak for “corny as all get out.” Not that Christmas albums need to rock, necessarily, but Cronin really castrates the band here, tossing in shiver-inducing spoken-word sketches, terribly inappropriate ad libs, and borderline offensive cover choices (you can’t help but wonder if John Lennon would still be a pacifist if he could hear this version of “Happy Xmas [War Is Over]”). He’s always had the charisma and vocal authority of a hairless kitten, but Not So Silent Night really begs the question of how Kevin Cronin has managed to keep his grip on REO Speedwagon all these years. Of all the veteran bands who should have gone out and found themselves a nice young replacement singer from the Philippines by now, this one surely tops the list. (Sony Legacy 2009)
They’ve been feted in countless compilations, but Daryl Hall and John Oates have never received the deluxe box set treatment until now – which seems odd, considering they’re the top-selling duo of all time. The cumbersomely named Do What You Want, Be What You Are: The Music of Daryl Hall John Oates has been in the works for over a decade, tumbling to Legacy when Sony merged with BMG a few years ago, and for once, a corporate mega-merger bears a little artistic fruit; just about everything the duo has done, from pre-H&O recordings with the Masters and the Temptones through their early Atlantic years as a folk/rock act and on into their most recent incarnation as a slick adult contemporary object of Yacht Rock hipster fetishism, is here. The hits are present and accounted for, of course, which is actually what puts a hiccup in Do What You Want’s stride: Is there a Hall and Oates fan on Earth who doesn’t already have at least one of their best-of compilations? Is there any such thing as a “casual” fan of the duo that’s willing to drop coin on a four-disc box? This set tries to play to both groups, lumping in Hall and Oates’ amazing streak of hits alongside a smattering of deep cuts, live performances, and demos. It’s a pleasantly full-figured portrait of their work, but it has the nasty side effect of rendering Disc Three essentially worthless (or, at the very least, utterly redundant) for the hardcore fans who have been waiting for this collection.
