I knew the band’s name, as I had heard people in the
underground scene mentioning PIEL DE SERPIENTE and comparing them to TIERRA
SANTA. Until now, however, I had never actually listened to them, and
Inevitable is their third album. Having finally given it a listen, I have to
say that, apart from the use of the Spanish language, I don’t find that the
band has that much in common with TIERRA SANTA.
PIEL DE SERPIENTE’s sound balances somewhere between
’80s hard rock and traditional heavy metal — the kind of style we usually
describe as hard ’n’ heavy. So, if names like PRETTY MAIDS and PINK CREAM 69
come to mind, along with more metal-oriented influences such as ACCEPT and IRON
MAIDEN, then you are on the right track. This is the musical territory in which
PIEL DE SERPIENTE operate.
Overall, Inevitable is a very enjoyable album,
although there are a few exceptions. “El Umbral,” for example, is simply too
happy, cheesy and predictable for my taste. It sounds like the kind of song
that was written with radio airplay in mind. Fortunately, the album has enough
strong material to compensate for moments like this.
Among the highlights, I would definitely mention
“Rabia,” “Sangre” — which does, indeed, bring TIERRA SANTA to mind —
“Inevitable,” the excellent “Ronnie James,” and “Sueños Perdidos.” These are
the songs that really show what PIEL DE SERPIENTE are capable of when they
combine their melodic side with their heavier influences.
If you don’t have a problem with a band singing
entirely in Spanish, then Inevitable is certainly worth checking out. It is a
good, passionate and fresh hard ’n’ heavy album, and another interesting
example of how the classic ’80s sound can still find a place in today’s
underground scene.
Θα
ακούσουμε «Σόδομα και Γόμορρα» (Sodom and Gomorrah), όπως λέει και το δεύτερο
κομμάτι του CD! Όχι, τουλάχιστον όχι ακόμα. Μετά όμως το Objection Overruled
και τη σχετική επιτυχία που έφερε αυτό το άλμπουμ της επιστροφής τους, πλέον ως
τετράδα, ακριβώς μετά μας έσκασαν στα αυτιά και αυτό.
Δεν
είναι τρομερά καλό, αλλά ούτε και πολύ κακό ως σύνολο. Περνάει οριακά τη βάση
για μένα, παίρνοντας ένα 6/10, και έτσι καταλήγει να είναι ένα ανεκτό, ή έστω
οριακά ενδιαφέρον, άλμπουμ των Γερμανών classic Heavy Metal ηρώων των ’80s.
Η
τετράδα, όπως είπαμε, των δημιουργών του κινείται εδώ σε τότε θεωρούμενα ως
«μοντέρνα» ηχητικά μονοπάτια, από Groove — μη πω και Industrial — κατευθύνσεις,
όπως συμβαίνει ήδη με το ομότιτλο κομμάτι που ανοίγει το άλμπουμ και έρχεται
πρώτο για να μας προβληματίσει. Υπάρχουν, βέβαια, και στιγμές που πατούν σε πιο
σίγουρα και γνώριμα μονοπάτια, σε εκείνα τα στεγανά που μια μπάντα του δικού
τους διαμετρήματος μπορεί να έχει.
Εδώ
έχουμε και την επανεκτέλεση του Generation Clash, από το Eat the Heat του 1989,
το άλμπουμ τους στο οποίο τότε ο Udo Dirkschneider δεν ήταν μέλος της μπάντας,
καθώς τη θέση του στα φωνητικά είχε ο David Reece.
Έχουμε,
βέβαια, και χαρακτηριστικά κομμάτια όπως τα The Beast Inside, Guns ’R’ Us, Bad
Habits Die Hard, Like a Loaded Gun, What Else και Stone Evil, που καταφέρνουν
να αρέσουν αρκετά μέσα σε ένα σύνολο 15 κομματιών.
Δυστυχώς,
όμως, υπάρχουν και χειρότερα, που ακόμα δεν τα έχουμε ακούσει.
English:
The head in the X-ray is Udo.
Are we going to hear “Sodom and Gomorrah,” as the
second track on the CD puts it? Not quite—not yet, at least. But after
Objection Overruled and the relative success that came with that comeback
album, which saw them return as a four-piece, this was what they threw at our
ears next.
It’s not a particularly great album, but neither is it
a particularly bad one as a whole. It just about scrapes a passing grade for
me, earning a 6/10, and therefore ends up being a tolerable, or at least
marginally interesting, release from the German classic Heavy Metal heroes of
the ’80s.
The four-piece behind it, as mentioned, ventures into
what were considered “modern” sonic territories at the time, flirting with
Groove—and, dare I say, even Industrial—directions. The title track, which
opens the album, is a good example, immediately raising a few eyebrows and
making us wonder where exactly they are heading. There are, of course, also
moments when they return to safer and more familiar ground, to those stylistic
boundaries that a band of their stature can comfortably operate within.
We also get a re-recording of Generation Clash,
originally from their 1989 album Eat the Heat. Udo Dirkschneider was not a
member of the band at the time, with David Reece handling the vocals instead.
There are, naturally, some standout tracks here as
well, including The Beast Inside, Guns ’R’ Us, Bad Habits Die Hard, Like a
Loaded Gun, What Else, and Stone Evil, all of which manage to make a fairly
good impression within the album’s 15-track running order.
Unfortunately, though, there are worse things waiting
for us—and we haven’t heard them yet.
There is a particular thrill in crate digging that no
amount of online searching can quite reproduce: the dusty bargain bin, the
forgotten corner of a record shop, and that unexpected moment when a couple of
euros suddenly open the door to an obscure chapter of metal history.
That was exactly my experience with Sinister Funkhouse
#17. I stumbled upon an original 1989 pressing for just €2—a ridiculously good
price for a record that represents one of the strangest, most individualistic
and genuinely unpredictable debuts to emerge from the American underground
during the late ’80s.
Formed in Madison, Wisconsin, in 1987, Last Crack were
hardly a conventional proposition from the beginning. Their early reputation
was built not only around their music but also around volatile, emotionally
charged live performances, which eventually brought them to the attention of
Roadrunner A&R man Monte Conner. The label signed them and sent the band to
Minneapolis to record their debut at Prince’s legendary Paisley Park Studios.
Released in the United States on June 19, 1989,
through Roadracer Records, Sinister Funkhouse #17 is a fascinating snapshot of
a band that clearly had no intention of fitting comfortably into any
established category.
And despite what its title might suggest, this is not
some misguided attempt at funk-metal. The word “funk” here is considerably more
important to the band's mythology than to any straightforward description of
their sound.
A
Tale of Two Sides
One of the most fascinating aspects of the original
vinyl edition is how naturally it divides into two contrasting halves.
Side A – Progressive Chaos and Acid-Drenched
Imagination
The first side is where Last Crack's eccentricity
really comes alive.
Opening with the brief and unsettling Good Mourning
From The Funkhouse, the album quickly launches into Gush Volcano Crush
(G.V.C.), before moving through Blood Brothers of the Big Black Bear, Concrete
Slaughterdogs, Slicing Steel and Saraboyscage.
The songwriting is restless, unpredictable and
frequently disorientating. Riffs appear, mutate and disappear; rhythms change
direction without warning; and the band seems perfectly comfortable allowing a
song to become strange rather than forcing it back into a conventional
structure.
Concrete Slaughterdogs is one of the clearest
demonstrations of their ability to combine muscular riffing with an almost
manic sense of movement, while Slicing Steel introduces a darker, more
atmospheric quality.
There is a psychedelic quality to this material, but
it never becomes lightweight. Last Crack were far too heavy for that. Their
music sounds as though progressive rock, traditional heavy metal, alternative
rock and a particularly unhealthy imagination have been thrown into the same
basement and told to work things out among themselves.
The result is messy—but deliberately so.
Side B – More Direct, But Still Unpredictable
Flip the record over and the band suddenly seems a
little more disciplined.
The Last Crack, Shelter, Terse and the
seven-and-a-half-minute Thee Abyss retain the band's eccentric personality, but
the riffs become more immediately recognizable and the structures somewhat more
grounded.
The Last Crack has a swaggering, riff-driven quality
that makes it one of the album's more immediate moments, while Terse delivers a
compact dose of muscular heavy metal. The real centerpiece, however, is Thee
Abyss, an extended closer that allows the band to stretch out and explore the
darker side of their sound.
Calling Side B “classic heavy metal” would perhaps be
too simplistic—the band's personality remains far too strange for that—but
there is certainly a stronger traditional metal backbone here.
And that contrast between the two sides is part of
what makes the original vinyl such an interesting listen.
The
Musicianship Is No Joke
Behind all the bizarre titles, surreal lyrics and
Buddo's theatrical persona, there is a seriously accomplished band.
The twin-guitar attack of Paul Schluter and Don Bakken
provides much of the album's identity, moving effortlessly between chunky
riffs, atmospheric passages and surprisingly sophisticated lead work. Todd
Winger gives the material a solid low-end foundation, while drummer Phil
“Philo” Buerstatte plays with both precision and aggression.
Buerstatte's subsequent career makes his presence here
even more interesting: after his years with Last Crack, he joined White Zombie,
touring with the band from 1992 to 1994 and appearing on several recordings,
including Feed the Gods, I Am Hell and White Zombie's version of Children of
the Grave. He died in 2013, aged 46.
At the front of this peculiar machine stands Buddo
Xavier Rank, whose vocal approach is almost impossible to separate from Last
Crack's identity. He doesn't simply sing these songs—he performs them.
His delivery can be aggressive, theatrical, sarcastic
and downright unhinged, often sounding closer to an actor inhabiting a deranged
character than a conventional metal vocalist. It is not polished in the
traditional sense, but it is unmistakably his own.
What
Exactly Is the “Sinister Funkhouse”?
The title becomes considerably more entertaining once
you know where it came from.
The Sinister Funkhouse was reportedly the band's
rented practice/storage space outside Madison, where the musicians spent long
hours rehearsing in hot and cramped conditions. Buddo would apparently write
poetry, phrases and potential lyrics directly onto the walls with a marker.
In other words, the album title was not some
calculated record-company attempt to manufacture an eccentric image. The
eccentricity was already there.
That detail also explains something about the record's
atmosphere. Sinister Funkhouse #17 sounds less like a carefully designed
commercial product and more like a document smuggled out of a strange creative
bunker.
“Blood Brothers of the Big Black Bear” – A Trip into
the Madison Underground
One of the album's most memorable and bizarre tracks
is Blood Brothers of the Big Black Bear.
The song is connected to The Black Bear, a basement
bar that functioned as a hangout for members of Madison's metal scene during
the late ’80s and early ’90s. The track turns that real-world environment into
something much more surreal, with Buddo's lyrics constructing an almost
hallucinatory barroom mythology.
It is a perfect example of what makes Last Crack so
difficult to classify. There is genuine heavy metal muscle underneath it, but
the lyrical imagery is bizarre enough to make the whole thing feel like an
underground theatre piece performed by people who have spent far too much time
in the same basement.
And perhaps that is precisely the point.
Recorded
at Prince's Paisley Park
Another detail that adds considerably to the album's
historical appeal is its recording location.
Sinister Funkhouse #17 was recorded at Paisley Park
Studios in Minneapolis, the studio complex owned by Prince. The album was
engineered by Jim Rondinelli, produced by Randy Green, and mixed by Genya
Ravan, with David Cook and Deanna Hewitt also credited in the mixing process.
The unlikely combination of a Madison underground
metal band and Prince's studio is almost as strange as the music itself.
Yet the recording doesn't sound excessively polished
or sterilized. It retains a raw, slightly unruly character that suits Last
Crack perfectly. The musicianship is strong, but the production never
completely removes the feeling that something dangerous and unpredictable is
happening inside the room.
And
Then There Was That Cover...
Of course, no discussion of Sinister Funkhouse #17
would be complete without mentioning its infamous artwork.
The original cover features Buddo naked, posed in an
archer-like stance against a blood-splattered background. It was provocative
enough to attract considerable attention when the album appeared, and the
imagery became one of the band's most recognizable calling cards.
In retrospect, it is almost impossible to imagine a
better visual representation of the album's personality.
Strange? Absolutely.
Subtle? Not remotely.
Forgettable? Certainly not.
A
Cult Classic That Never Quite Found Its Audience
Last Crack followed Sinister Funkhouse #17 with
Burning Time in 1991, a considerably more focused but still highly distinctive
album produced by Dave Jerden. The band appeared to be heading toward something
bigger, but internal problems and mismanagement contributed to their eventual
collapse.
Their story, however, did not completely end there.
The original members reunited for a performance in
Madison in 2002, documented on Burning Funkhouse Live, and later returned for
further performances, including a 2009 reunion celebrating the twentieth
anniversary of their debut. Last Crack eventually became an active band again
and released The Up Rising in 2019.
There was also an unexpected European chapter: Last
Crack toured Europe in 2005 and appeared at the Headway Festival in Amstelveen,
Netherlands, on the same bill as Fates Warning.
That history only reinforces the strange trajectory of
the band. They were never quite mainstream enough to become household names,
yet they possessed enough talent and individuality to keep resurfacing among
people who had discovered them years earlier.
The
Verdict
Sinister Funkhouse #17 is not a flawless masterpiece,
nor does it need to be.
Its value lies elsewhere.
This is an album made by musicians who were clearly
capable of playing technically demanding metal but were unwilling to let
technical ability dictate their artistic boundaries. Progressive passages
collide with traditional heavy metal, psychedelic ideas rub shoulders with
hard-rock swagger, and Buddo's bizarre theatricality ties the whole thing
together.
It is eccentric without being pretentious, heavy
without becoming predictable, and experimental without losing its physical
impact.
Most importantly, it sounds like Last Crack.
And that is probably the greatest compliment one can
give an obscure late-’80s metal album.
Finding an original copy for €2 makes the story even
better. For that price, I didn't just buy a record—I bought a small,
beautifully strange piece of American underground metal history.
Final Score: 70/100
A fiercely original, unpredictable debut from a band
that refused to belong to any particular scene—and became all the more
interesting because of it.
Οι
Sinner πάντα μου ήταν ιδιαίτερα συμπαθείς. Ο Matt Sinner ήταν κατά κάποιον
τρόπο ένας αφανής ήρωας της γερμανικής Rock / Metal σκηνής, περισσότερο γνωστός
μέσα από τους Primal Fear παρά από το δικό του συγκρότημα.
Με
οδηγό ένα άλμπουμ σαν το One Bullet Left, που κυκλοφόρησε έξι χρόνια πριν, η
παρέα το πάει πάλι τρένο, στις ίδιες ράγες. Αυτή η συνολική συμπεριφορά, σαν να
βρίσκονται και πάλι στα μέσα των ’80s, με την πιο Hard & Heavy διάθεση,
θυμίζει έντονα τους Thin Lizzy της ίδιας περιόδου και ιδιαίτερα την εποχή των
Renegade, Chinatown και Thunder and Lightning. Αυτό μεν τους πάει, αλλά νομίζω
πως κάποιους μπορεί να τους κουράσει.
Πλήκτρα,
Hammond και ηλεκτρικό πιάνο χαρίζουν ένα ρετρό υπόβαθρο στον ήχο, ο οποίος
είναι όμως αισθητά πιο βαρύς από εκείνον του προηγούμενου άλμπουμ που
προαναφέρθηκε.
Δεκατρία,
παρακαλώ, κομμάτια, αν και τα τρία τελευταία είναι bonus αυτής της αρχικής
DigiPack έκδοσης του CD. Με ιδιαίτερο κομμάτι το νούμερο πέντε, το Battle Hill,
και την ιδιαίτερη κελτική ατμόσφαιρά του να θυμίζει… Gary Moore, τα Go Down Fighting, Tequila Suicide, Road to Hell, Why,
Gypsy Rebels, Loud & Clear, καθώςκαιτα House of Rock και I Am απότα bonus, έχουνκάτιναδώσουν.
Δεν
ξέρω, όμως, αν υπάρχουν πια αρκετοί για να το παραλάβουν.
English:
A Strange Feeling
I have always had a particular fondness for Sinner.
Matt Sinner has, in a way, been something of an unsung hero of the German Rock
/ Metal scene, better known through Primal Fear than through his own band.
Following the path of an album like One Bullet Left,
released six years ago, the band once again keeps the train rolling along the
same tracks. Their overall approach feels as though they have travelled back to
the mid-’80s, embracing a distinctly Hard & Heavy attitude that strongly
recalls Thin Lizzy from the same era, particularly the period of Renegade,
Chinatown and Thunder and Lightning. It certainly suits them, although I
believe it may become tiring for some listeners.
Keyboards, Hammond and electric piano provide a retro
backdrop to the sound, which is noticeably heavier than that of the
aforementioned previous album.
Thirteen tracks, please—but the final three are bonus
tracks included on this original DigiPack edition of the CD. With track number
five, Battle Hill, standing out in particular, its distinctive Celtic
atmosphere bringing… Gary Moore to mind, there is still something to be found
in Go Down Fighting, Tequila Suicide, Road to Hell, Why, Gypsy Rebels, Loud
& Clear, as well as the bonus tracks House of Rock and I Am.
I just don't know if there are still enough people out
there willing to pick it up.
AMBIVALENCE are here to deliver brutal Death/Grind
Metal loaded with technical prowess, intensity, and genuine quality. Silicone
Magic is an album that combines sheer aggression with a surprisingly varied
musical approach, introducing psychotronic keyboard parts and unexpected
melodic elements throughout its course—some of them carrying an almost humorous
character that adds an unusual twist to the band's otherwise relentlessly
savage sound.
The production is excellent: professional, powerful,
and free of flaws. It possesses the necessary dynamics and sheer might to allow
every aspect of the band's music to come through with clarity, without
sacrificing the rawness and viciousness that this kind of music demands.
The riffs have volume, speed, and a distinctly
depraved, psychotic scent, while the rhythms are predominantly high-tempo,
driven by storming and highly aggressive drum work. The countless rhythm
changes further enhance the technical character of the music, constantly
shifting its momentum and keeping the listener on their toes. AMBIVALENCE
clearly have the musicianship to handle these complex arrangements without
allowing the technical side of their music to overshadow its brutality.
Lyrically, Silicone Magic is equally uncompromising.
The album stands as a clamor against the corruption, emptiness, artificiality,
and rottenness of the star system, giving the music an additional layer of
attitude and purpose.
Silicone Magic is a superb piece of work that
successfully combines brutality, technicality, eccentricity, and a twisted
sense of melody. A must-have for devotees of extreme Death/Grind Metal who
appreciate their music both savage and technically adventurous.
Released on November 26, 1977,
The Best of ZZ Top is much more than a convenient collection of
previously released material. Bringing together ten tracks from the band’s
first five studio albums, it offers an exceptionally concise portrait of ZZ Top
before the MTV era transformed them into international superstars.
This is ZZ Top stripped down
to their essential ingredients: Texas blues, hard-rock muscle, boogie grooves,
dirty guitar tones and an almost telepathic rhythmic chemistry between Billy
Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard. There are no synthesizers, no drum
machines, no glossy 1980s production tricks and none of the elaborate visual
mythology that would later surround the band. What remains is the raw, earthy
power of a three-piece that had already developed a sound entirely its own.
And that is precisely why this
compilation remains so enjoyable. It documents the band at the point where
their blues foundations and hard-rock instincts had fused into something
unmistakably ZZ Top.
Album Review
Long before Eliminator
made them MTV royalty, ZZ Top were one of America's great working bands:
relentlessly touring, deeply rooted in Texas blues and already capable of
turning a three-piece arrangement into something considerably bigger than the
sum of its parts.
The magic lies in the balance.
Billy Gibbons' guitar is filthy without becoming uncontrolled, Dusty Hill
provides a bass foundation that is heavier and more melodic than it initially
appears, while Frank Beard's drumming supplies the subtle swing that keeps the
whole machine moving. Beard in particular deserves more credit than the band's
mythology sometimes allows: his playing is economical, but never stiff, and his
feel is fundamental to the band's groove.
The Best of ZZ Top captures all of this beautifully.
Side One
The compilation gets straight
to the point with “Tush”, a compact, explosive piece of Texas boogie
that remains one of the band's signature recordings. At barely over two
minutes, it wastes absolutely no time. Dusty Hill's lead vocal, Gibbons'
razor-sharp guitar work and Beard's relentless groove make it the perfect
opening statement.
The pairing of “Waitin' for
the Bus” and “Jesus Just Left Chicago” is arguably the centerpiece
of the entire collection. Originally appearing consecutively on Tres Hombres
(1973), the two tracks almost function as a single composition: the former
establishes a hypnotic, slow-burning groove before giving way to the heavier,
blues-soaked swagger of the latter.
That transition is one of
those small pieces of sequencing genius that makes a compilation feel like an
album rather than a playlist.
“Francine” introduces a lighter, more melodic side of the band without abandoning
their blues-rock character, while “Just Got Paid” brings the emphasis
firmly back to Gibbons' guitar. The latter is particularly impressive because
of the way its riffing combines blues phrasing with the sheer physical weight
of hard rock.
Side Two
If Side One establishes the
band's groove, Side Two begins with their calling card.
“La Grange” is built around one of the most recognizable guitar shuffles in rock
history, but its effectiveness comes from how little the band actually needs to
do with it. The riff, the rhythm section and Gibbons' vocal attitude are
enough. Inspired by the notorious Chicken Ranch brothel in La Grange, Texas,
the song became one of ZZ Top's defining recordings and an enduring piece of
Texas rock mythology.
Then comes “Blue Jean
Blues”, arguably the compilation's most revealing track. Instead of relying
on the band's trademark boogie attack, Gibbons stretches out into a slow,
deeply atmospheric blues performance. His guitar playing here is all about
touch, sustain and phrasing rather than speed. It is a useful reminder that
beneath ZZ Top's humour and swagger was a genuinely accomplished blues
guitarist.
“Backdoor Love Affair” restores the band's heavier groove before “Beer Drinkers and Hell
Raisers” kicks the doors wide open again. The latter is especially notable
for the shared vocal approach of Gibbons and Hill, reinforcing the sense that
ZZ Top's sound was not simply built around one frontman but around the
chemistry of the entire trio.
Finally, “Heard It on the
X” closes the record in suitably rebellious fashion. The song pays tribute
to the powerful Mexican “border blaster” radio stations that could be heard
across Texas, stations that played blues, rock 'n' roll and other music that
American broadcasters often ignored. The reference is more than a bit of local
colour: those stations were part of the musical environment that helped shape
the young Gibbons and the broader Texas rock culture.
Production & Sound
Produced by the band's
legendary manager Bill Ham, the compilation benefits from the sonic
character of the original early-1970s recordings rather than attempting to
modernize them. The material originated from sessions associated with Robin
Hood Studios in Tyler, Texas, and Ardent Studios in Memphis, two important
locations in the development of ZZ Top's early sound.
What makes these recordings
work so well is their physicality. The guitars have weight without excessive
studio polish, the bass is present without swallowing the guitar, and Beard's
drums retain a natural sense of movement.
There is a genuine three
people in a room quality to much of this material. That doesn't mean the
production is primitive—it is actually remarkably controlled—but the
performances retain enough grit and space to breathe.
The Cover: Ten Legendary Texas Tales
The sleeve is another reason
this particular compilation has become so memorable among collectors. The album
is presented under the subtitle “10 Legendary Texas Tales,” with artwork
credited to illustrator Phil Garner and design by John Kosh,
whose résumé includes some of the most recognizable album artwork of the rock
era.
The pulp-magazine aesthetic
fits ZZ Top perfectly: humorous, exaggerated, slightly sleazy and unmistakably
Texan. It feels less like a conventional greatest-hits package and more like a
visual extension of the band's emerging mythology.
An Interesting Omission
One of the more curious
aspects of the compilation is what it leaves out.
Although Tejas had been
released in 1976, none of its material appears here. Instead, the album
concentrates entirely on recordings from 1971 through 1975—the band's first
five studio albums.
In retrospect, this gives the
compilation an unexpected advantage. Rather than trying to represent every
phase of ZZ Top's career up to 1977, it unintentionally creates a remarkably
coherent portrait of their formative period.
Interestingly, contemporary
trade coverage acknowledged that not all of the band's recent singles had made
the cut, but still regarded the selection as difficult to fault.
And that is probably the best
way to approach The Best of ZZ Top: not as an absolutely comprehensive
greatest-hits collection, but as a carefully concentrated introduction to the
band's first and arguably rawest chapter.
Commercial Legacy
The album initially reached No.
94 on the Billboard 200, and later returned to the chart in 1984 at No.
182. In the United States, it was eventually certified double Platinum,
reflecting the enormous longevity of ZZ Top's catalogue.
Its staying power is hardly
surprising. By the time Eliminator arrived in 1983, ZZ Top had already
spent more than a decade developing the musical language that would make their
1980s transformation so successful. Listening back to this compilation makes
that evolution much easier to understand.
The famous beards, hot rods,
sunglasses and MTV videos did not create ZZ Top. They merely placed an already
fully developed musical identity inside a new visual context.
Why This Compilation Still Matters
The Best of ZZ Top remains one of the most effective ways to experience the band's pre-MTV
identity in a single sitting. It contains the essential ingredients: “Tush,”
“Waitin' for the Bus,” “Jesus Just Left Chicago,” “Just Got Paid,” “La Grange,”
“Blue Jean Blues” and “Heard It on the X”—and, importantly, presents them
without the distractions that would later accompany the ZZ Top phenomenon.
For anyone who discovered the
band through Eliminator, Afterburner or their MTV videos, this
record is almost a time machine. It takes you back to when ZZ Top were simply
three Texans making extraordinarily infectious, dirty, blues-drenched hard
rock.
And there is something
refreshing about hearing them in this form.
No gimmicks. No drum machines.
No sequencers. No neon.
Just Gibbons, Hill and
Beard, locked into a groove and sounding like nobody else.
That is the real value of The
Best of ZZ Top: it doesn't merely collect some of the band's best early
songs—it preserves the moment when the legend was still being built.
