REVIEW: ZZ Top, XXX (RCA)
- Don Share
The new ZZ Top album is called XXX -- is it rated Triple-X? Does it stand for 30 years of something, or 30 albums (that one seems plausible!) or three identical-looking guys (hmm, also plausible)?
Let's assume it's all or some of the above, or that it really doesn't matter. From the '70s all the way into the '90s, the Little Old Band From Texas has been putting out albums which are remarkably consistent in quality, and whose sound and songwriting has been tweaked just enough to update things ever so slightly; a winning, for the most part, formula.
Those early albums were really something, too: if you were around back then, you might recall that the Top nearly rivaled the Stones and Skynyrd, on the radio and in concert, for excitement. Look at those bands today: with personnel modifications, they sorta soldier on, while ZZ Top are still intact (well, there's only 3 guys to worry about), and I'd say that the Top are for the most part doing so less embarassingly than their colleagues.
Yet because their formula has been so tried and true, it's now true to call it a bit tired. You get your fill of grungy gut-bucket guitar with greasy vocals -- but the novelty songs seem to have less novelty, and, to paraphrase Led Zeppelin (a band not around anymore), the songs remain mostly the same. If you're a big ZZ Top fan, this is welcome news, of course.
Like Fandango, a better album, XXX is part studio, part live. The studio tracks are a bit hip-hoppy, which isn't a big problem: nothing disguises the Top, and change is good, right? And tunes like "Poke Chop Sandwich," about Lightnin' Hopkins' drummer, Spider, keeping such a sammich on his tom-tom, and the more obvious "Crucifixx-A-Flatt," (about, well, I guess about having faith to spare on the rocky road of life) are even close to Tom Waitsy. But then you have "Fearless Boogie," "36-22-36" and a live reworking of "Pincushion" called "Sinpusher," which are mostly, ahem, retreads.
"Made Into A Movie," if I can analyze a Top tune, makes no sense. It says, "I found her again and that's not just a line," and that finding love again is a story that's right outta Hollywood: but if it's a script for a movie, then it's filled with lines, right? Oh, well.
"Beatbox" pays tribute to the Walkman (it's also the anniversary of the Walkman, ya know), and "Tripping" pays tribute to, er, tripping. Both are in the tuneless chugaloo department. For the other songs, the band have their tongues firmly in their cheeks, which are so bearded by now you can't see 'em. "Dreadmonboogaloo" uses samples of radio weirdo Art Bell -- ingeniously, too. You hear Bell intone, "This is Art...!" Art, get it? "(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear" is sung (by Dusty) as a slow blues of all things, while "Hey Mr. Millionaire" features, apparently, a rare assisting vocal from Jeff Beck! Best by far is last: "Belt Buckle" - superb bit of vintage Texas shuffling and scraping.
ZZ Top are OK. Their charm hasn't aged at all, and they're tight as...tight as can be. The tunes are zippy and catchy and if you don't like one, another comes along. If there's a ho-hummable song now and then, it doesn't hurt much. The trouble is that with such a great back-catalog, most folks don't need XXX. Yep, you guessed it: this is an album for dedicated fans.
