Nazareth
The Fool Circle

What can be said anew and specifically about this twelfth work by Nazareth (1981), given that it follows the trend of the latest ones preceding it, namely the dilution of the original, homely and generous hard rock in favor of something much rounder, more accessible, and "respectable"? Ah, to know! I’ll try then to distill something from each of the ten parts that make up this work.

The initial “Dressed to Kill,” despite the title, is an inoffensive rock piece complete with a hopping keyboard played by guest John Locke, ex-Spirit; however, the harmonized guitar line running through is pretty and quite memorable, similar to the chorus.

“Another Year” intensely smells of the eighties, thanks to a marked revival of the Men At Work style, in the singing and the guitars marvelously drenched in chorus. “Moonlight Eyes” that follows immediately is an insignificant slow song… I can't extract any noteworthy characteristic to highlight.

With “Pop the Silo” the real Nazareth make a one-time appearance! The singer brays commendably, the electro-acoustic mix is lively and tough, no eighties stench. It is the only genuine concession to the primordial inspiration that brought together this quartet of Scotsmen: a classic of their repertoire. But the following “Let Me Be Your Leader” immediately restores the trend of the times: it's one hundred percent reggae! Quite intriguing, but the band's hard rock has really gone to hell. Followed, among others, by “We Are the People” which is a… half-reggae! Help! Anyway, white reggae (Police, Men At Work) at least grabs me decidedly more than the original Jamaican stuff (Marley, Tosh…).

“Every Young Man’s Dream” continues to push the eighties' Nazareth towards “light” music. This time it reminds me of Creedence Clearwater Revival, but John Fogerty’s voice, that incomparable punch of his timbre blacker than a black man's, is quite different from the eager Dan McCafferty. It's almost a nursery rhyme, without a chorus.

“Little Part of You” is even more their eighties testament; rigid rhythm stuck on the bass/guitar pedal and… gentle, innocuous, pop, so much that it reminds me of The Cars, or The Pretenders. Very accessible, if it weren’t for the graceless voice that takes away from Nazareth the chance to truly be someone in the significant pop-rock eighties circuit. As usual, guitars with chorus like it’s raining here as well, pleasant and dated… it was the fashion.

From all this emerges, almost at the end of the album, a “Cocaine.” Live, precisely the one by J.J.Cale expropriated by Clapton, etc., but in a semi-acoustic rendition somewhat so-so, without the universally known guitar riff, replaced by other elements. Despite the disguises, the audience instantly recognizes the refrain “She don’t like…” and responds greatly! The melodic/textual charge of this overused rock piece is, as usual, irresistible. Poor Cale certainly gnawed somewhat, but simultaneously thanking Clapton in his heart for making him well-off, stealing the glory but not the royalties for this song.

“Victoria” ends well with a lively boogie animated by a brilliant and unexpected Beach Boys insert (from “Good Vibrations”), very cute also because it's well sung in chorus.

Well, the uncompromising rockers can only completely renounce this Nazareth release, which is nonetheless more than decent for everyone else. Certainly, it is a child of its times.