|

Bookmark this
page
|
Blue Öyster Cult
The
roots of that strange, outlaw motorcycle band, Blue Öyster Cult, can be
traced back to the smoky wisps of psychedelia, when they were known as
Soft White Underbelly, Oaxaca, and eventually The Stalk Forest Group.
The brainchild of rock journalist Sandy Pearlman, they were signed to
Elektra, a deal that only yielded one single. Shortly afterwards, The
Stalk Forest Group's lead singer, Les Bronstein, was replaced by Eric
Bloom. He completed a line-up which also consisted of Donald 'Buck
Dharma' Roeser, Allen Lanier, Joe Bouchard and Albert Bouchard.
Taking their new name from a Pearlman lyric, Blue Öyster Cult began
to earn a reputation as a fiercely exciting rock band, propelled by
Roeser's raw chord dynamics, Pearlman's sinister lyrics, and an
apocalyptic stage presence based on Hell's Angels imagery and the black
and white symbol of Kronos (Saturn), later their trademark.
Pearlman moulded the sound and image of the band to evoke the spirit
of Altamont.
However, while The Rolling Stones
dabbled with jet-set debauchery and satanic posturing, Blue Öyster Cult
seemed like the real thing: grizzly hedonists pursuing dark thrills and
meddling in the black arts with psychotic glee.
The first time album, Blue Öyster Cult (1972) remains a
landmark of early 70s rock. The opening chords of Transmaniacon M.C.
captured the essence of the band - tight, loud, inventive heavy metal.
On the other hand, She's As Beautiful As A Foot, with its
floating guitar solo, harked back to dreamy, off-centre psychedelia,
illustrating the band's firm grasp of rock's lighter shadings.
The follow-up - Tyranny And Mutation (1973) - was just as
good, mining the same rich veins of emotional bleakness and driving
hedonism on tracks such as O.D.'d On Life Itself. Although the
band refuted allegations of neo-Nazism, their third album, 1974's Secret
Treaties, seemed to readily embrace a certain cruelty of
feeling.
However, the lyrics of songs such as Flaming Telepaths and Astronomy
were too densely cryptic to have any simple political significance. The
stand-out track was Career Of Evil, written by Patti
Smith (who was Lanier's girlfriend at the time), and the album
outsold their previous efforts in the US.
As the hard rock scene lurched between endless twelve-bar boogie
re-workings and sludge heavy rifferama, Blue Öyster Cult's early albums
had uncommon discipline, and a clear production that was founded on
fluidity and restraint.
Concert
shows, in contrast, were more excessive, and burgeoning over-soloing
characterized the group's first live album, On Your Feet Or On Your
Knees (1975). Walking the thin line between genuine force and empty
bombast, the Blue Öyster Cult faltered for the first time, although
sales remained high.
The leather-clad, S&M shock of the band was gradually starting to
fade, and a subtle shift towards radio-friendly, melodic hard rock was
reflected in their next, and most successful, album, Agents Of
Fortune (1976). Diluting their darker energies, it offered instead a
varied selection of tuneful material (True Confessions), amidst
suitably malignant biker anthems (This Ain't The Summer Of Love).
Don't Fear The Reaper, with its Byrds-like
harmonics, offset by dark lyrics, provided the band's defining moment,
never to be repeated. This time with two tracks co-written by Patti
Smith, the album belatedly broke the band in the UK charts. By the
end of the 70s, however, the band had begun a slow limp towards
self-parody, sadly evidenced by Spectres (1978). If early albums
traded on enigma, then R.U. Ready To Rock? was as dumb and
obvious as its title suggests.
Subsequent albums, despite the occasional stand-out track - such as Death
Valley Nights from Spectres, or Joan Crawford from Fire
Of Unknown Origin (1981), seemed content to pander to the feeble SF
and demented biker obsessions of their fan base.
Club Ninja (1985) represented a nadir of sorts. However, Imaginos
(1988), was probably their strongest work of the decade. An ambitious
exercise in multi-layered guitars and trademark hooks, it was bolstered
by bizarre lyrics about alien cults and sundry conspiracy theories.
Suitable stuff for the band, who surfaced again in 1992, scoring the
movie Bad Channels, and again in 1994, with songs re-recorded as Cult
Classics, used as the soundtrack to the movie of Stephen King's
chiller, The Stand. On this last outing, Chuck Burgi joined on
drums.
Ten years on from Imaginos, Heaven Forbid (1998) -
BOC's first studio album since 1986 - apparently found them in somewhat
reduced circumstances; a new (small) label, less-than-pristine cover
art, minimal promotion and no hype. Only Bloom, Dharma and Allan Lanier
remained from the glory days but the album resonated with the
riff-laden, stripped-down boogie-evil that characterized the first three
albums.
2001 saw the release of their 12th studio album, Curse of the
Hidden Mirror. The album showed that BOC still had a way with an
esoteric lyric and a harmony-doused chorus. Bloom and Roeser sounded
anything but jaded and, pleasingly, former music journalist Richard
Meltzer was still around for the odd co-write. The stand-out track was
Roeser's breezy West Coast-influenced Here Comes That Feeling
which devotees will recognise as a natural successor to 1981's hit Burnin'
For You.
|

Email
this page to a friend

Eric Bloom
Vocals
Donald 'Buck Dharma' Roeser
Guitar/vocals
Allen Lanier
Keyboards/guitar
Joe Bouchard
Bass/vocals
Al Bouchard
Drums
Rick Downey
Drums
Tony Zvonchek
Keyboards
Tommy Price
Drums
Jon Rogers
Bass
Ron Riddle
Drums
Chuck Burgi
Drums
|