Steve Miller Band – Italian X Rays

Underrated and catchy album. It is among Steve Miller’s all time best work? Heck no. But it’s still good for what it is. Standout tracks are the two singles, “Shangri-La” and, “Bongo Bongo”.

Forgettable album in the pantheon of YES great earlier SMB gems the last one being Circle of Love with the epic 18+ min prog/funk workout which clearly defines Mr. Miller as a composer that can dabble cross genres and do it quite confidently. This album and this is one listeners opinion just felt like it was rushed with benign lyrics(not that Steve's lyrics where really too deep and intricate) and the music just doesn't leave the listener with a inclination of reaching for that play button again. Instead its a listen put back in the sleeve/case and maybe in a year give it another listen and perhaps it'll hit me on a different level. Really not the apex of the Steve Miller Bands output but then again even a winning thoroughbred cannot be expected to keep the winners coming a decade later!

Does anyone know what the bleepy sound at the beginning of side a and end of side b is? Been trying to find out for years and have had no luck

Referencing the Remastered Reissue on 180 Gram Translucent Gold Vinyl ...

Never have I heard an album that so wholeheartedly defined the 80’s. Without a doubt there are many who love that musical defining moment in time, an artifact characterized by sequential artificial sounding drumming, where after all, Phil Collins made a billion dollars on that alone, and on the television series Miami Vice, every action sequence seemed to be playing out below that obnoxious beat, as if that signature sound was more important than the plot-line … as if that signature sound was more important than any other aspect of music in general.

With his blues inspired psychedelic rock, Steve Miller was an interracial part of the music scene of the 1960’s, an artist who was able to parlay and develop that sound into some of the most enduring and visionary rock singles of the 70’s, then for some unknown reason took a turn at an unidentified signpost in the 1980’s, and for me, hit a brick wall. I’m more than sure that those coming of age during those formative years embrace this musical manifestation, though for me it was not something I found enchanting or even tolerable, so intolerable as a matter of fact that I simply dismissed it all as a bad dream, though when the time and expense were taken to re-issue Italian X Rays on 180 gram vinyl, there was no way I could say nothing.

What was the godfather of a generation attempting to do here, a man who built and layered his music, then tossed it all out the window in favor of momentary hipness, eliminating many of his guitar solos in favor of a synthesizer, especially for Steve “Guitar” Miller, then compounded the problem by incorporating a drum machine and thumping bass, along with overdubbed harmonies, stripping the album of any soul, any sign of life. All of this was lightyears away from the purity of the 60’s and the vastness of his highflying all-encompassing singles of the 70’s, in favor of this industrial corporate sound (and the 60’s were all about rejecting corporations), coming off as if it had been generated by a computer … the “Space Cowboy” seems to have crashed.

This was an album instantly suitable as grocery store muzak, where I can’t help but wonder if the Joker himself would even recognize that it’s his music playing over the speakers as he pushes his cart down the aisles, prompting me to question why anyone anywhere at anytime would feel compelled to even consider the thought, “Why has no one ever released an audiophile version on of Italian X Rays on translucent gold vinyl?” Yeah, it’s spooky to even consider that, yet nonetheless, here it is, with the full blessing and approval by “The Gangster of Love” himself.

Oh yes, when something so dismissive as this comes along, there are gonna be those who are going to attempt to impress upon you that you just don’t get it, that’s theres an unqualified brilliance found here, that the cheesy nonsensical lyrics are all part of the easy to swallow candy coating that offers a first rate sugar rush that simply must be experienced. Though (laughing) to that I’ll say, anyone who’s experienced a four year old on a sugar induced jag knows full well that a headlong crash into a drool defined nap on the couch is unavoidable.

There is nothing definable or memorable found here, there are no songs or phrase that will ride comfortably in your back pocket inspiring you to listen to this record again, why even the album art looks as if it were stolen from the walls of some Salvador Dali inspired pizza shoppe. If on the other hand, lyrics such as, “I met a woman by a babbling brook/ She was gifted, she was wise,/ She was reading a book” excite or inspire you, than this might just be the singular album of your life.

Allow me to paraphrase an old movie, where the villain said, “Take a cheap watch, bury it in the desert for 5000 years, repackage and market it, and you’ve got yourself a priceless gem.” Though for me, I’m gonna crawl back under my rock and pretend that this babbling paint by numbers album still doesn’t exist.

Review by Jenell Kesler