Rhino Rocktober: The Stooges, Rush, and Faces
Vinyl reviews for the Stooges’ Fun House (Alternate Version), Rush’s The Albums 2002–2012 box set, and Faces’ Early Steps.
It’s the final week for Rhino’s Rocktober series, and if you’ve been keeping tabs, you know it has already been a smorgasbord of vinyl reissues plundered from the depths of the Warner catalog. Well, unbuckle that belt, because the smorgasbord continues, with 11 new releases added to the roster.
We’ve been reviewing as many of these Rocktober albums as we could get our hands on, but if you missed out on our two earlier Rocktober installments, you can get your readin’ eyes on them right here:


As for what’s coming out today, Friday, October 31, 2025, here’s the complete list:
• Bad Company: Rock N Roll Fantasy: The Very Best of Bad Company [silver vinyl]
• Faces: Early Steps
• Ramones: “Pet Sematary” [12-inch single on red vinyl]
• Rush: The Albums 2002–2012 [7-LP boxed set]
• The Stooges: Fun House (Alternate Version) [opaque white with black vinyl]
• Warren Zevon: Excitable Boy [Rhino Reserve]
• ZZ Top: Degüello [Rhino High Fidelity - unnumbered]
• ZZ Top: El Loco [Rhino High Fidelity - unnumbered]
• ZZ Top: Eliminator [Rhino High Fidelity - unnumbered]
• ZZ Top: Afterburner [Rhino High Fidelity - unnumbered]
• ZZ Top: Recycler [Rhino High Fidelity - unnumbered]
And we’ve got reviews of three of these for you right now in today's newsletter:
The Stooges: Fun House (Alternate Version)
We also intended to have a review today for the new Rhino Reserve edition of Warren Zevon’s Excitable Boy. Apologies, that has been delayed until next week. So be sure to check back (or better yet, subscribe and have it delivered to your inbox!). We know, we know—we’ve ruined the golden opportunity to post a review of the album that contains “Werewolves of London” on Halloween itself.
Speaking of, we hope yours is a good one, with your preferred levels of candy, costumes, and fun. And what better day to visit your local record store! Here are our thoughts on some of the new things you’ll find there.

The Stooges: Fun House (Alternate Version)
Review by Ned Lannamann
Enough ink has been spilled about the Stooges’ second album that no one needs me to go all Lester Bangs about its ferality and scabrousness. Let it suffice to say that Fun House is regarded as not merely a harbinger of punk but a veritable portal into a previously undiscovered musical world, where noise and attitude mattered more than trifling concerns such as technique, melody, and consistency. To this day, the 1970 album remains a thrilling, disorienting listen.
For Rocktober, Rhino has assembled a very intriguing-looking collection of alternate takes from the Fun House sessions to create a complete alternate version of the album. None of these are new discoveries: In 2000, Rhino’s Handmade sublabel released a 7-CD box set called 1970: The Complete Fun House Sessions, which was exactly that—a complete document of everything the Stooges played while the tape machine was rolling at Elektra Sound Recorders in May 1970. Struggling with the delicacies of studio recording, the Stooges and their producer, Don Gallucci, realized the best way to get their coarse, destructive sound on tape was to set up live in the room, with Iggy holding a stage mic and all the band members playing their parts in real time—no overdubs, no tracking, no gaps to be filled in later. This meant that the session reels contain more or less complete performances of the songs, many times over. All of this material was revisited in the similarly comprehensive Fun House 50th anniversary box set, a limited-edition doorstop of 15 LPs and two 7-inches that also included a live show from the period.
So this new Fun House (Alternate Version) is an abridgment of all of those recordings, and it would stand to reason that it contains, essentially, the second-best take of every song on the album. But such a thing has already been attempted before. The many hours of outtakes were previously condensed into a single CD that was released as a second disc for a Fun House reissue in 2005, and it was condensed even further for a vinyl version released that same year. Many of the takes chosen for this new Alternate Version are the same as the ones on those sets—but not all. To make this even more complicated, in 2017 Run Out Groove released a 2-LP set called Highlights from the Fun House Sessions. Some—but not all—of these versions appear on that release as well.
Skip this paragraph if you don’t care what’s already appeared elsewhere. This Alternate Version’s “Down on the Street” is the wonderfully nasty-sounding first take, cut short when Iggy announces “we’re out of tune,” a performance that was on the 2005 CD but not the 2005 or 2017 LPs. These versions of “Loose” and “TV Eye” appeared on the 2005 sets but not the 2017 one, while this “Dirt” is Take 10, not the Take 4 that the 2005 sets used, nor Take 5 from the 2017 set. Meanwhile, this particular rendition of “1970” appeared on all three earlier releases. The epic Take 3 of “Fun House” that takes up more than half of Side 2 was not selected for the 2005 versions but did appear on the 2017 double LP. And the first take of “L.A. Blues”—here using its working title, “Freak”—was likely deemed too insane for inclusion in the 2005 sets, but the full 17-minute performance took up all of Side 4 on the 2017 set; here, it’s edited down to a more manageable 3:46.
Like Fun House itself, these also-ran performances are initially impenetrable but reveal their allure over repeated listens. The Stooges’ swervy magnetism—the narcotic draw that Scott Asheton’s tribal beats and Ron Asheton’s chainsaw guitar conjure—is as undeniable as ever, with Iggy Pop’s vocals holding everything together like a mad carnival barker. The second half of the album adds tenor saxophonist Steve Mackay, whose free-jazz-informed squawking turns this already unstable carousel fully off its axis.
So is there anything here that betters the original? Well… no. But some of these mixes are less fussed-with and more transparent than what ended up on the finished record, stripping back a noticeable layer of the magic dust that really made the Stooges sound like aliens. And for the scholars who missed their chance to get those massive Fun House box sets while they were available, this alternate LP will be an enjoyable curio, or something to put on and confuse your friends.
The vinyl disc itself is an anonymous GZ cut made from Warner’s digital files, likely the same ones that were created in 1999 at DigiPrep by mastering engineers Bill Inglott and Dan Hersch for that first Complete Fun House Sessions box set. The mastering is clear, full, and good, with a tightly focused sound and no issues with fidelity. My copy was pressed at GZ’s Memphis facility on a hallucinatory mix of black and white vinyl, packaged inside a poly-lined sleeve. The music is consistently loud enough that it generally didn’t matter, but I heard little flecks of noise during the quieter parts, which, as past experience leads me to believe, originates from the mixture of two different vinyl compounds. It’s a solid but unexceptional pressing that should satisfy most Stooges fans. Also included an insert that has an image of an original tape box, the necessary production credits, and absolutely no liner notes whatsoever. Surely any of the essays that appeared in previous editions (by Henry Rollins! Or Jack White!) could have been excerpted here to provide further context for these recordings, right? Sadly, no.
But as I said at the start, plenty of ink has been spilled over this album. It seems unlikely that anyone taking this home doesn’t already own a copy of Fun House, but if there is such a person, they’ll likely be encouraged to jump down the rabbit hole and figure out how the hell this album even happened. That it’s now considered a classic—one worthy of an entire alternate version made up of slightly-less-good takes—means either that it takes time, wisdom, and hindsight for us human beings to recognize artistic greatness, or that we’re a depraved species that inevitably gravitates toward crassness, violence, and garbage for our entertainment. Check back with me in another 55 years to see where we’re at.
Fun House (Alternate Version) | Rhino 1-LP 33 RPM • lacquer cut anonymously at GZ, Czech Republic • pressed at GZ’s Memphis Record Pressing • black-and-white vinyl
Listening equipment
Table: Technics SL-1200MK2
Cart: Audio-Technica VM540ML
Amp: Luxman L-509X
Speakers: ADS L980

Rush: The Albums 2002–2012
Review by Robert Ham
You won’t find many casual Rush fans in the world. Folks who follow the Canadian rock trio are dedicated to little else, snapping up every last scrap of music and ephemera that they can. The band happily feeds that devotion, producing a steady stream of merch to choose from and finding new ways to package and promote their discography.
I imagine, then, that there must be some anticipation for The Albums 2002–2012, the Rush box set that’s out this week—at least among folks who weren’t lucky enough to snag one of the 3,000 copies that were issued this past June through the band’s website and Rhino’s online store. This collection gathers together the last four LPs the classic lineup of Rush made before they were forced to end their collective journey when drummer/lyricist Neil Peart passed away in 2020. Tucked into this handsome package, with a cover illustration by longtime Rush collaborator Hugh Syme, are Vapour Trails Remixed, the 2013 release that corrected the overcompressed sound of the original album from 2002; the 2004 covers EP Feedback; 2007’s Snakes & Arrows; and their final studio statement, 2012’s Clockwork Angels.
The albums within represent a fascinating and fertile period for the band. When the band made Vapour Trails, they were returning to activity after an extended hiatus following the deaths of Peart’s daughter and his longtime partner. As such, his lyrics for the album were suffused with anger, confusion, and wonder at the fragility of life. From there, Peart and bandmates Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee pushed ahead creatively even as they assessed their legacy as a group. For their 30th anniversary, they recorded Feedback, on which they dared to look deep into the rearview mirror, knocking out renditions of the rock songs that influenced them during their teen years (among them, “The Seeker,” “Heart Full Of Soul,” and “Shapes of Things”). And they decided to try their hands at a proper concept album with Clockwork Angels, a steampunk epic that folded in elements of Voltaire, Cormac McCarthy, and Joseph Conrad.
With such a rich creative period for the band, it’s a shame that this set is as bare-bones as it is. These are new represses of each album, undertaken by GZ Media in the Czech Republic, but nothing outside of the vinyl and the fresh barcodes on the back of each album sleeve appear to have changed. For each, GZ had either the original plates to work with, or, in the case of Snakes & Arrows and Feedback, the plates made for 2016 remasters from a lacquer cut by Sean Magee (his signature “i…i” is etched into the deadwax of each disc). Rhino faithfully recreated the packaging for each one, too, with both discs of the remixed Vapour Trails tucked into a single sleeve, gatefolds for the rest, and inserts for each Snakes LP.
Unfortunately, I’m left wondering if the previous pressings of these albums sound as bad as the ones in this new set. Nearly all the discs are marred by a sibilance and muddiness that only grows more pronounced as the needle moves further toward the center of the discs. Even curiouser is the fate of “Far Cry,” the burst of intensity that opens up Snakes. On this pressing, there’s a muffled quality to the track that slowly clears up as it reaches the halfway point. Though flat, centered, and free of any other surface noise to further mar the proceedings, it’s immensely frustrating to try and dig into the nuances of these albums as the audio begins to smear and lose definition. The only LP that comes out fairly unscathed is, sadly, the least essential of the four: Feedback. A little fuzziness does start to creep into the last two tracks on each side of the disc, but the music manages to stay relatively defined and powerful. Hearing how well these lukewarm covers of classic-rock mainstays come off here only compounds the disappointment with the rest of the discs in the box.
The most egregious oversight for this set is, yes, the lack of liner notes. There ain’t nothing in this box outside of the music to put this era of the band in some kind of context. To be fair, that isn’t likely anything that Rush fans need, as they’ve surely been following every last twist and turn of their history, and there is ample information out there via interviews with the three men behind it all. (Both Lifeson and Lee might have even more to say about this period when they start doing press for their 2026 tour with new drummer Anika Nilles.) But how great would it have been to have those same articles compiled into, say, a nice booklet to flesh out the background of each record and give longtime followers and folks just now wading into these heady waters something to chew on as they spin these discs? Guess we’ll have to wait for the inevitable deluxe reissues.
The Albums 2002–2012 | Rhino 7-LP 33 RPM • Vapour Trails Remixed cut to lacquer from unknown source by Andy VanDette at Masterdisk • Snakes & Arrows and Feedback cut to lacquer from unknown source by Sean Magee of Abbey Road Studios • Clockwork Angels cut to lacquer from unknown source • pressed at GZ in Czech Republic • black vinyl
Listening equipment
Table: Cambridge Audio Alva ST
Cart: Audio-Technica VAT-VM95E
Amp: Sansui 9090
Speakers: Electro Voice TS8-2

Faces: Early Steps
Review by Ned Lannamann
An archival release from the Faces should be cause for jubilation. The band—one of the most purely enjoyable acts of the 1970s—emerged from the ashes of another very fine band, Small Faces, the legendary British mod group featuring guitarist/vocalist Steve Marriott. The remaining Small Faces needed to replace Marriott’s mighty presence with not one but two megastars-in-the-making: singer/bum-shaker Rod Stewart and guitarist Ronnie Wood. Early Steps is a collection of some of the first-ever recordings by this new outfit, including rehearsal tapes recorded during the summer of 1969 in the Rolling Stones’ rehearsal space in the Bermondsey section of southeast London. There are also some rough mixes from their first studio session, taped in September 1969 at Olympic Studios with Glyn Johns, laying the groundwork for what would eventually become the debut Faces album, 1970’s First Step (which was released in the US and Canada under the name Small Faces, but we’d figure it out eventually).
The Olympic session on Side 1 is previously unreleased and sounds quite good indeed, with punchiness, clarity, and ample bass in these rough stereo mixes. It’s a real treat to hear the between-take banter from these ne’er-do-wells, and there’s even a previously unheard song, “Train,” a nasty, upbeat rocker—written by the unlikely trio of Stewart, Wood, and drummer Kenney Jones—that seems to predict the groove of the Rolling Stones’ “Bitch” more than a year before that song was recorded. But the best thing here might be the early take of “Flying,” which doesn’t quite match the refinement of the album version but finds the band already locked into their strengths, with Ian McLagan’s organ providing atmosphere over Wood’s guitar arpeggios and the band’s backing vocals sounding a sweet counterpart to Stewart’s raspy tenor.
The second side of the LP is devoted to the earlier Bermondsey rehearsals, which McLagan recorded on mono cassette. Needless to say, these are not high-fidelity recordings, just raw mic captures of the room, with plenty of ambient hiss and Kenney Jones’s snare occasionally vibrating noisily when someone plucks a note. Three of the tracks were already released on the excellent Faces box set, 2004’s Five Guys Walk into a Bar…, so seasoned fans will know what they’re in for—although on that set the rehearsal tapes were not consecutively sequenced, allowing all the other, better-sounding recordings to elevate them as part of a bigger whole. The unreleased song here, “Pineapple and the Monkey,” does noticeably suffer from inferior sound, so maybe the cassettes had good patches and bad patches, or this particular one had deteriorated by the time it was transferred for this release.
Still, what’s here is lively, spirited music, enjoyable well beyond its historical significance. The band runs through two blues numbers, Big Bill Broonzy’s “I Feel So Good” and Willie Dixon’s “Evil” (which absolutely cooks), plus two of their own compositions, the aforementioned “Pineapple” and a swell version of “Shake, Shudder, Shiver.” So, four songs in total. And that’s where the problem with this vinyl version of Early Steps lies. The CD version includes six songs from these Bermondsey rehearsal cassettes, with performances of “Stone” and “Devotion” that are nowhere to be found on the vinyl. Side 1 is barely over 15 minutes long, so I think the LP could have been configured to include them somehow.
The CD version also has a booklet full of liner notes. Not the LP, I’m afraid, which has just a single-sleeve jacket with the disc inside. Apart from a small paragraph of text on the back cover and the pertinent recording info, there’s no context, historical background, or any other insight into these recordings. That means that Faces diehards will need to get the CD for the complete package, and considering the raw Bermondsey tapes don’t exactly need high-quality vinyl to get their points across, the CD may be more than enough.
The source tapes were restored, mastered, and assembled to a digital file by Nick Robbins of Sound Mastering in London. Henry Rudkins of AIR Studios then cut the lacquer, and the US copies were pressed at GZ’s Memphis Record Pressing. (European copies may have been pressed in the Czech Republic, but I can’t verify that.) The inferior sound of “Pineapple and the Monkey” notwithstanding, I appreciated how these raw tapes come alive in the vinyl format, with surprisingly rich, full-spectrum sound and all band members fully audible despite the recordings’ limitations. My pressing was clean and free of noise (bonus points for the disc coming in a poly-lined sleeve), but unfortunately it was dished pretty badly, although that did not affect playability.
All told, I think that with the addition of the liner notes and the two extra songs from the CD version, the Early Steps vinyl could have earned a high recommendation (the dishing on my copy notwithstanding). As it is, it’s a minor disappointment. Since this release is aimed at Faces fans who’ll likely want everything, denying them some of the components was a poor decision.
Early Steps | Rhino 1-LP 33 RPM • restored and mastered by Nick Robbins of Sound Mastering • lacquer cut from digital file by Henry Rudkins of AIR Studios • pressed at GZ’s Memphis Record Pressing • black vinyl
Listening equipment
Table: Technics SL-1200MK2
Cart: Audio-Technica VM540ML
Amp: Luxman L-509X
Speakers: ADS L980

