Reviews: The Power Station | The Black Heart Procession

Hello once again to our fellow wax fanatics. We are back after a small but necessary break with some new reviews for you to dig into. Musically, these albums couldn’t be more different, but they both represent projects from musicians looking for creative outlets outside of their better-known bands.

Before we get into that, we wanted to shout out Nick, one of our paid subscribers who was the lucky winner of this month’s vinyl giveaway. A sealed copy of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ The Live Anthology: From the Vaults - Vol. 1 is on its way to you right now. If you’re reading this and getting a little jealous of Nick and the other folks who have won free records, consider bumping up your subscription to the paid tier. It’s the only way to get yourself in the running for this monthly freebies, and it’s a wonderful way to support the work we’re doing here at The Vinyl Cut.

For all of you subscribers, on any tier, we thank you for helping keep us going. It means the world to have you checking out our reviews and digging into our weekly reissue rundowns. We’ve got a lot to talk about over the next seven weeks with Record Store Day on the horizon, so buckle up, friends. Until then... on to today’s reviews.

The Power Station: The Power Station DLX

In 1985, Duran Duran were at the end of their collective tether. Even as they looked toward a career peak as the band was picked to record the theme song for the next James Bond film (A View to a Kill), the grind of recording and touring and promotion was wearing them thin. They needed some time apart. 

Even while separated, the band couldn’t turn off the flow of creative ideas. To follow their dueling influences, they split into two factions. Singer Simon Le Bon, keyboardist Nick Rhodes, and drummer Roger Taylor opted to dig into their love of darkwave and early electronic music for the one-off project Arcadia. Bassist John Taylor and guitarist Andy Taylor (no relation) instead looked, as John wrote in his 2012 memoir In the Pleasure Groove, for “something ‘funkier and more organic’ than Duran. Louder guitars.” 

John and Andy had a hell of a leg up on the other Durans, as their new project also involved Tony Thompson and Bernard Edwards, the peerless rhythm section for disco-funk group Chic. The idea at first was for the Taylors and Thompson to be, as John writes, “like Motown’s Funk Brothers or the Stax house band, the MGs, to support a revolving cast of singers; men and women, young and old,” with Edwards shepherding the project from behind the mixing desk. They hit up a slew of vocalists they knew or admired—Mick Jagger, Richard Butler of the Psychedelic Furs, and Mick Ronson among them. But when John Taylor invited his buddy Robert Palmer, the soulful British singer with his own reasonably successful solo career, to contribute to some tracks, Edwards was so impressed that he insisted on adding him as a full-time member. 

Dubbed the Power Station after the New York studio where the bulk of the writing and recording was happening, this new quartet tipped everything into the red. Their self-titled album, released in 1985, is uncut ’80s musical excess, awash in gated reverb, showy solos from the Taylors, and jittery tape edits. It’s only Palmer’s coolly appraising vocals that keeps the entire affair from going into meltdown. It’s a potent mix of blue-eyed soul, pop, hard rock, and glitter that fit comfortably into a musical era that gave us Purple Rain, glam metal, and No Jacket Required. 

The original pressings of The Power Station that I’ve heard over the years—including the copy from Capitol Records’ pressing plant in Jacksonville, Illinois, that I spun in preparation for this review—were more than sufficient. Already polished to an appreciable sheen by Edwards, recording engineer Jason Corsaro, and mastering engineer Howie Weinberg, the music has always had a nice heft and dynamism, putting the focus primarily on Thompson’s muscular drumming and the spiky kick of Andy Taylor’s guitars. This new master by John Webber at London’s AIR Studios gives everything a fresh shine that somehow adds even more detail to the mix. The music is noticeably brighter, with the cymbals on Thompson’s kit, the keyboards, and the horn section jumping forward in the mix. And on a more bottom-heavy track like “Lonely Tonight,” the depth of field is pretty remarkable, with rich bass tones and marimbas evoking the crushed velvet and neon-lit desperation of an underground nightclub near closing time. 

The story of this era of the Power Station gets fleshed out nicely on this new vinyl pressing. An abridged version of the 4-CD edition that was released at the same time, the new reissue includes a second disc, with one side filled with edits and remixes of the LP’s three singles. The best of that bunch is a killer “Megamix” that stretches the liquid grooves and flashy guitar solo by Andy Taylor on “Some Like It Hot” well past the six-minute mark. 

Far less exciting is the material on the flipside of this second disc. With the album in the can, the Power Station were set to hit the road in the summer of 1985 to fulfill their promotional duties, including a stop at Philadelphia’s JFK Stadium on July 13 to perform as part of Live Aid. But just as they were set to start rehearsals, Palmer backed out of the tour. Scrambling, John Taylor brought in his friend Michael Des Barres to fill in. It would be a tough role for any vocalist to step into at the last minute, but Des Barres’s surface-level growl is a poor substitute for Palmer’s earthy croon, as proven out by the two live recordings from Live Aid included in this set. Worse still is “Somewhere Somehow Someone (We Fight For Love),” the awkwardly titled, treacly power ballad Des Barres made with the band for inclusion in the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle Commando. 

It’s an ignominious way to close out this otherwise well-pressed and well-presented reissue, but not enough for me to suggest skipping it entirely. And while nice-sounding original copies of The Power Station are plentiful in the secondary market, if you’re in the market for an upgraded version of the album, you’d do well to give this latest edition a spin. It’s a fascinating snapshot of a supergroup that looked to push beyond Duran Duran’s New Romantic origins into funkier, heavier territory, and it now sounds better than ever. 

Parlophone 2-LP 33 RPM black vinyl
• Remaster of 1985 album with second disc of remixes and live tracks
• Jacket: Direct-to-board gatefold
• Inner sleeve: Custom printed inner sleeves with lyrics and credits
• Liner notes, insert, or booklet: None
• Source: Unknown, assumed digital
• Mastering credit: John Webber at AIR Studios, London
• Lacquer cut by: John Webber at AIR Studios, London; “JWM” in deadwax
• Pressed at: Optimal Media, Germany
• Vinyl pressing quality (visual): A
• Vinyl pressing quality (audio): A
• Additional notes: None.

The Black Heart Procession: 1

The Black Heart Procession, the dark indie-folk project from San Diego, was born out of necessity, and the group’s first album, 1998’s 1, was created by chance. At least that’s how co-founder Pall Jenkins put it in a 2000 interview. In his telling, Jenkins’s other band, Three Mile Pilot, stalled out when much of the group weren’t interested in touring to support their 1997 album Another Desert, Another Sea. With time on his hands, Jenkins and bandmate Tobias Nathanial started writing music together, quickly knocking together a batch of songs informed by Nick Cave’s Americana explorations, Leonard Cohen’s melancholic folk, Brian Eno’s ambient experiments, and their own broken hearts. 

After a few months of honing this new material, the two men and some friends decamped to Bear Creek Studios in Woodinville, Washington, and 11 days later, walked out with a finished album. “When we left the studio with the compact disc,” Jenkins told Piero Scaruffi, “we were listening to our own music and wondering, ‘What is this music we just made?’ We didn’t even know that we had these songs in us until we were driving home at night! So that was an accident, basically.”

There’s more than a little hyperbole in Jenkins’s assessment of the first BHP album, but listening to it today via a new vinyl pressing from Solid Brass Records, I can see where he’s coming from. The 11 songs on 1 don’t sound fussed over, nor are they showy affairs. The instrumentation is sparse, usually piano and guitar playing simple, effective melodies, with the occasional appearance of a spooky-sounding musical saw or waterphone. A scant few tracks have drums, but even that instrument is played with welcome restraint by future OFF! member Mario Rubalcaba. The mood of the album is similar in that way to the candlelit sessions of Talk Talk’s Laughing Stock or the hushed reverence of Cowboy Junkies’ The Trinity Session. 

The decision to repress 1 this year seems to be a logistical one. The Black Heart Procession have been steadily ramping up activity since 2024 with digital re-releases of older material and some recent live dates. And the hype sticker on this reissue concludes with: “As the band prepares for a new chapter, you can now revisit where it all began.” My assumption is that this new pressing of 1 is meant to arouse the appetites of the group’s longtime fans and potential new listeners as they get ready to drop some new music. 

Whatever the reason, it’s a lovely thing to have this album back on wax; original pressings are ticking up in value, as is the limited white vinyl edition that was issued in 2016. The emotional impact of 1 is strongest when heard on a well-pressed LP, as the warmth of the analog medium is a perfect vehicle for the music’s smoldering embers. Though I’m without an earlier copy of the LP to compare it to, I will say that this new edition does the job nicely. The music is balanced well, sitting everything in a cozy midrange that provides some hazy ambiance in the background but still allows for each instrument and performance to come through clearly when given a close listen. The mood for me is only disrupted by some clicks that show up on “Stitched to My Heart,” and Side 2 is slightly off center, which gives a slight warble to the tracks at the end of the album. 

The spell that 1 has cast on me is such that I’m likely going to be heading to my local shop soon to grab another copy that is hopefully free of such flaws. But even if that proves impossible, I’ll still be entirely satisfied with the copy I had on hand for review. I spun the LP multiple times and the issue with Side 2 only rattled me if I was listening for it. The music doesn’t often demand attention, content to set a mood for rumination or late-night couplings. Who’s going to pay attention to a little watery audio when there are more personal matters to attend to? 

Solid Brass 1-LP 33 RPM “red smoke” vinyl
• Remaster of 1998 album
• Jacket: Direct-to-board single-pocket
• Inner sleeve: Black paper with printed lyrics and album credits
• Liner notes, insert, or booklet: None
• Source: Unknown, assumed digital
• Mastering credit: None
• Lacquer cut by: Unknown
• Pressed at: GZ Media, Czechia
• Vinyl pressing quality (visual): B+ (Side 2 cut a little off-center)
• Vinyl pressing quality (audio): B+ (some clicks and noise on one track; Side 2 cut a little off-center)
• Additional notes: Black vinyl version also available.

Listening equipment:
Table: Cambridge Audio Alva ST
Cart: Grado Green3
Amp: Sansui 9090
Speakers: Electro Voice TS8-2