Music Video Of the Week - February 27, 2026

"Tuff Enuff" by the Fabulous Thunderbirds  (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.) 

GTR (1986)

GTR doesn't refer here to an overpriced Japanese supercar but to an overhyped British supergroup.  It was the band founded in the mid-eighties by two prog guitarists named Steve - Howe from Yes and Asia and Hackett from Genesis - and named for the abbreviation for "guitar" used by recording studios to designate guitar tracks.  In other words, the band's name is the word "guitar" with the vowels taken out.  But after listening to GTR's self-titled debut album, one finds that other elements have been taken out of the music - namely the heart . . . the soul . . . and the brain.  Not to mention a reason for such a band's existence.  

The idea of Steve Howe and Steve Hackett, two of the most distinctive guitarists in British rock, forming a new band may have sounded like a dream come true to some classic-rock fans, but those who had heard the debut record of the Firm, the supergroup founded by Jimmy Page and Paul Rodgers that had premiered a year earlier, likely knew better.  GTR's music is typical eighties arena rock with overblown synthesizers, snare drums mixed high, and bloated heavy electric guitar riffs that erupt from underneath everything else.  For a band named after a guitar sound and headed by Howe and Hackett, there's precious little six-string work to be celebrated or even noticed.  Even the biggest detractors of Yes and Genesis could find guitar riffs from these two men to applaud, such as Howe's pensive classical solos in Yes's "Roundabout" or Hackett's gritty fills in the title track of Genesis' The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.  Here, Howe and Hackett don't even appear to be trying to produce anything that good.  It doesn't help that producer Geoff Downes - Howe's old partner in Asia - is a keyboardist.  

The songs are the typical eighties anthems about the triumph of the will, the yearning for human connections, and navel-gazing introspection, with lyrics with enough clichés to make Jon Bon Jovi blush.  Titles like "The Hunter" (a Geoff Downes composition), "You Can Still Get Through," and "Reach Out (Never Say No)" are (brain-)dead giveaways of what to expect, and the album's moderate hit single, "When the Heart Rules the Mind," shows no evidence of either one being the wiser.  In fact, the title of this album's fifth track has inspired me to add a thirty-fourth rule of rock and roll to Jimmy Guterman's and Owen O'Donnell's list of 33⅓ rules: Do not write a song with the title "Jekyll and Hyde."

Also, there are theatrical histrionics from lead singer Max Bacon, who sounds like he's auditioning to replace Joey Tempest as the frontman for Europe.  At least Bacon gives the songs the bombast they deserve, as do bassist Phil Spalding and drummer Jonathan Mover, who act as a rhythm section without the rhythm part.  They and Bacon are mostly there to disappoint the listener at key moments, for as soon as a Howe or Hackett guitar intro piques your interest, they come in and ruin everything.  

GTR may not have been complete "SHT," as rock critic J.D. Considine infamously wrote back in 1986, but their debut album is still a piece of JNK.  Unlike the similarly named Nissan sports car, it doesn't offer pleasure to compensate for impracticality, and it doesn't provide value for the money.  So why did this band exist, anyway?  Neither Howe nor Hackett could answer that question, which is why GTR quickly ran out of gas; they broke up after this one album.    

(This is my last Sunday record review for awhile; I need another break.)

Music Video Of the Week - October 15, 2021

"You Can Call Me Al" by Paul Simon (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.)

Music Video Of the Week - July 16, 2021

"Magic Smile" by Rosie Vela  (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.)

Rosie Vela - Zazu (1986)

In the 1980s, it seemed like every top fashion model wanted to date a rock star or marry a rock star.  Rosie Vela, long at the toppermost of the poppermost of the modeling profession, wanted to be a rock star.  The Texas-born Vela had long been an aspiring musician, writing songs and playing keyboard instruments, and she'd studied music in college.  So when she got a recording contract with A&M Records, she was more than ready to prove she was not just another pretty face.

Zazu is every much in the vein of mid-eighties pop, its nine songs dominated by synthesizers and heavy, pulsating drums, but Vela distinguishes herself with ethereally personal songwriting and a sultry vocal style - yes, she's a beautiful model with a voice to match! - that suggests contemporary jazz blended with lyrical introspection reminiscent of Suzanne Vega's first album.  But she also had three big supporting players - Walter Becker and Donald Fagen of Steely Dan, working together here for the only time between the Dan's split in 1981 and their regrouping in 1993, and Steely Dan producer Gary Katz, who produced this album.  They clearly found a kindred spirit in Vela, whose personal ruminations about love and relationships shine with the impeccable taste of Katz's production and the crisp playing from not just Becker on guitar and Fagen on keyboards, but from a lineup of session men that included guitarist Rick Derringer and drummer Jim Keltner. 

It's still Rosie Vela's record.  Her songs, from the light-hearted and warm "Magic Smile" and the bright "Boxs" (no typo, that's how she spelled it), brim with imaginative lyrics and honest emotion, with a pulsating, jazz-influenced sound.  "Fool's Paradise," the opening cut, offers some punchy percussion and stinging guitar, while "Interlude," despite its slightly mellow vibe, has a strong drum-and-keyboard arrangement that adds muscle to her heartfelt vocal.  "Taxi" pulsates with a non-stop, urban whirlwind that brings to life Vela's images of riding in a cab while addressing her lover, while "2nd Emotion" simply rocks, with Rosie displaying more energy than her already pumped backing band.  And the closing title track?  You get so lost in the dreaminess of "Zazu" that you're sorry it couldn't go on longer.

In an ideal world, Rosie Vela should have gone on to an esteemed singing career like her fellow model Whitney Houston did, but despite Zazu's moderate success in Britain, listeners in her home country passed it by, and Rosie never released a follow-up.  Too bad.  Having no doubt done her share of catalog work as a model, she could have produced a substantial catalog of a different sort.