Roadmaster - Sweet Music

Another from the summer of 2006 and Tipp-C.

Roadmaster – Sweet Music
Village Records 1978

When I was younger the cover of my mom’s copy of the Beach Boys compilation Endless Summer used to freak me out. Being only four or five years old at the time I was many years away from truly understanding the genius of Brian Wilson, but I was at the perfect age to be frightened by his caricature lurking in the brush. My mom also owned Black Sabbath’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, another album that really creeped me out, mainly due to the 666 that was carved into the headboard of a bed that was occupied by a few demons and a naked man with a snake wrapped around his neck. Not all of my mom’s albums were scary, though. I used to be fascinated by Link Wray’s 1971 self-titled offering because the picture of his head folded out from the rest of the album sleeve and it was in black and white on the flip side. I also thought Link Wray was a Native American since he was wearing a headband. Gimme a break, I was only four. Regardless of whether or not an album cover scarred my four year old mind, I grew to understand the importance of cover art and the impression it could make on a potential listener. Sabbath, Link Wray, and the Beach Boys are all musicians that I still listen to on a regular basis. In fact, I have those exact records in my current vinyl collection. Thanks, mom.

That brings us to this week’s random purchase: Roadmaster’s 1978 album, Sweet Music. Roadmaster is a band that obviously had no idea how important album covers were, since I didn’t even think this was an album when I was flipping through Goodwill’s plastic milk crate-o-vinyl. My first thought was Who in the hell would donate a calendar from a 1950’s diner to charity? Once I realized that is was indeed a record, my next thought was Who in the hell would make their album cover an out-of-focus neon sign with their band’s name on it? Apparently, Roadmaster would do such a thing. What sold me, though, was when I flipped it over and saw the band. Yikes, they’re wearing neon. Every single one of them. I’m not even making this up when I say that the album credits include a line that says Neon: Aurora Borealis. I didn’t even have to read the credits in order to know which one was the drummer, either. Curly hair, a sparkly dog collar, and a green neon outfit with a tie just below the nipple line screams drummer. Not to mention that his name is Bobby Johns. Bassist Toby Myers is the only one not wearing something exposing his hairy chest, as he opted to wear a bright yellow kimono for this photo session. Oh yeah, if you are in a real rock n’ roll band, your name should not be Toby. It should be something like Jimmy Axeslinger… or Bobby Johns.

Speaking of names, Roadmaster has to be the worst band name of all-time. How does one even go about mastering the road? Even though traffic safety is a positive message for the kids, it would have been more impressive if they had mastered something else with a higher degree of difficulty. They could have been Calculusmaster. Better yet, they could have been Kissingagirlwhoisleaningawayfromyoumaster.

If Styx had a premature baby brother who had to live his entire life hooked up to tubes in a hospital, he would have been named Roadmaster. These guys are pure AOR. Unfortunately, they are very weak compared to an outfit like Styx. The title track and the opening song “It Doesn’t Mean A Thing” are actually decent pomp rock songs and would fit nicely into the playlist of any current FM classic rock station, but that isn’t really enough to make them a good band. Despite some shining guitar riffs and impressive solos from Rick Benick, the album just falls flat. Paper thin production is what kills this album. The keyboards are way too trebly and the guitars lack punch. Though, to be honest, if Roy Thomas Baker had manned the boards on this one, I would probably have it in my collection. Great production can work wonders on anemic songs.

Despite their blatant disregard for the art of selecting an album cover, their idiotic band name, their use of neon, and their flaccid writing, Roadmaster actually had potential. They would have never been able to rival the songwriting and technical skill of bands like Bad Company or Journey, but they could have easily landed that sweet opening spot on the Aldo Nova tour.