In the near fifty-year interim, since Graham Parker announced himself to the world with the magnificent one-two punch of 1976’s Howlin’ Wind and Heat Treatment, he’s never made a bad record. And he keeps his record intact with Last Chance to Learn The Twist, thanks in no small part to the sympathetic contributions of his accompanists.
Parker more or less defers to the horn section and the female singers in the otherwise somewhat amorphous early going here. His wry designations of ‘The Easy Access Orchestra’ and ‘The Lady Bugs,’ respectively, are actually his most overt expressions of personality during “Sun Valley” and “Pablo’s Hippos.”
And rightly so, for those accompanists’ contributions are as laudable in their own salty way there as the wry evocations of Disney soundtracks on “The Music of the Devil” and 50’s doo-wop for “Grand Scheme of Things.” This musicianship and vocal work, plus the accompaniment of the core quartet including keyboardist Geraint Watkins, is too fluent to sound truly imitative.
But there’s a decided lack of rigor afflicting the material as well as the musicianship at the outset of this roughly forty-one minutes co-produced by Parker and Tuck Nelson. “Wicked Wit,” for instance, belies its title, missing the crisp, hook-laden expressions of attitude from prior works of Graham’s like 1988’s The Mona Lisa’s Sister or the very next year’s Human Soul (both of which boasted honest influences of Motown and Philly soul/pop).
There’s also no appreciable instrumental solo to speak of until ex-Rumour guitarist Martin Belmont, the titular leader of the band, steps into the spotlight on “Lost Track of Time.” Such a long stretch of any record focusing on structured ensemble arrangements usually conjures up a certain sameness and Last Chance To Learn The Twist is no exception. But leave it to Graham Parker himself to bring an end to the pervasive monotony by leisurely blowing some jaunty harmonica to introduce the piquant “Last Stretch of the Road.”
This interval from whence comes the album title might better have been sequenced earlier on for the sake of better pacing. As such, its placement would infuse the record with some necessary humor, not to mention the additional bite underlying the reggae bounce of “Them Bugs:” borderline slight as a composition, that selection’s nevertheless a good rhythmic workout for the band, moving in synchrony with each other and its frontman.
Perhaps excising a couple of the baker’s dozen tracks mid-way through this album would’ve nurtured its otherwise stunted dynamics. “Cannabis” and “Shorthand” don’t come off as fully-formed songs and until “We Did Nothing,” with its brisk acoustic chording, popping percussion, and the author’s deceptively laconic vocal delivery, too many of the surrounding performances simply lack verve, unlike the patently self-referential (autobiographical?) nature of “It Mattered To Me.”
To be fair, all this sounds no more (or less) tentative than Parker’s reunions with the Rumour in 2011 and 2015. But that only partially mitigates the sporadic impact of this collaboration, a stark contrast to the bristling chemistry pervading GP’s return to form on 2018’s Cloud Symbols.
Accordingly, whether intentional or not, the cover art of the package (by Jimmy Parker) is an apt metaphor for the music it contains. The image depicts Graham Parker ensnared by all manner of entangled tentacles and tendrils, so much so that his piercing visage is difficult to discern within the graphic.
It’s ultimately worth the effort to carefully peruse and thus fully appreciate that eccentric design though. As is also the result arising from paying close attention and fully comprehending the partially-camouflaged musical value(s) of Last Chance To Learn The Twist.
