November 9–16, 1995

disc quicks|rock/pop

A Testimonial Dinner: the Songs of XTC (Thirsty Ear)

A Testimonial Dinner: The Songs of XTC (Thirsty Ear)

Tales From Yesterday (Magna Carta)

Andy Warhol was wrong: What he meant was not 15 minutes of fame for everyone in the future, but fifty — that is, one tribute CD apiece. I guess I shouldn't complain, since this out-of-control trend means two of my favorite bands are now receiving such homage.

Other than having three-letter names, and being British, Yes and XTC have virtually nothing in common. Yes is entirely a product of the '60s, driven by an idealistic sense of the all-encompassing possibility of rock. XTC was just as purely grounded in '70s punk-pop until 1983, when they became just pop. But each band awakened a special musical understanding and allegiance in me that have been largely unmatched. Coincidentally, their respective retrospectives have both just hit the stores.

The contrast between these two discs illustrates some of the wacky things about tribute-o-mania. Where Testimonial Dinner is a veritable gathering of stars who love XTC ( Joe Jackson, Ruben Blades, Crash Test Dummies, They Might Be Giants, Rembrandts), Tales From Yesterday consists mostly of low-profile friends of the band (Annie Haslam of Renaissance and Steve Morse of the Dixie Dregs are the big names) and in some cases, band members themselves (Steve Howe, Patrick Moraz, Peter Banks) doing homage to themselves.

On that basis alone, it would be easy to dismiss the Yes tribute as a callow attempt by Magna Carta to give its no-name artists some exposure, but it's not that simple. In other words, I'm not done complaining yet.

Sure, it's great that these big stars love XTC, but many of them love the band to death: They're so attached to XTC's classic versions of the songs that these covers are largely off-color carbon copies. This is especially true of Jackson's "Statue of Liberty," the Rembrandts'"Making Plans for Nigel" and TMBG's "25 O'Clock." Each of these not only reproduces the exact tempo and feel of the original, but goes out of its way copy its trademark instrumental sounds ("Nigel's" doot-doo-doot guitar, "Liberty's" Barry Andrews organ). Without any twists by the cover band, we hear why they love XTC, but not why they love XTC.

On this album it's the lesser-knowns who take chances, true to the spirit of the old XTC: Spacehog's "Senses Working Overtime" and The Verve Pipe's "Wake Up" play around with textures and structures without mangling the songs' integrity. On the other hand, Ruben Blades does a very credible version of "The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul" simply by proving that it was always meant to be a Ruben Blades song.

Although I would have preferred more adventurous interpretations, the worst thing you can say about Testimonial Dinner is that it sounds like XTC.

Tales From Yesterday also has problems with carbon-copy syndrome: Steve Morse's renditions of Howe's "Clap" and "Mood for a Day" are reverently unoriginal, and Stanley Snail's "Siberian Khatru" is impressive only in its note-for-note mimicry of the original from start to finish.

The real problem with this Yes tribute, however, is that many of these covers bring out weaknesses in the songwriting behind the original hits. Other than "Roundabout," which stands up well to Robert Berry's teched-up reading, the songs often suffer from the lack of the original virtuoso performers. Even though some original members are present, there's never more than one at a given time. Without Jon Anderson's absurd conviction supporting his hyperpoetic lyrics, Chris Squire's daring bass attacks and Steve Howe's or Rick Wakeman's astoundingly nimble fingers, some songs sound rather vapid.

One of the problems may be length: Yes was notorious for their "bloated" songs, routinely six to ten minutes long, and there's not a lot of room to play around with additions or extrapolations to the structure. This is especially ironic since Yes's only cover to get radio play was "America," in which they took Paul Simon's pensive three-minute ditty and stretched it to ten minutes of Olympian grandeur. Try that with, say, "Siberian Khatru" and you're looking at 23 minutes per song!

Even granted such shortcomings, however, these two CDs are a worthwhile addition to the tribute trend, because they make excellent introductions to such masterpieces as Fragile and Drums and Wires, which more people ought to be hearing. So be sure to pick up those when you go out to buy that Alanis Morisette tribute album, okay?

— Vance Lehmkuhl