"You're the stage director and creator

You're God in everything you do

You're a one-man-band, a lone investigator

And every move you make is up to you."

We return to this side of the pond for a third morsel of music, Jefferson Airplane's oddly entertaining album, "Bark." Late in the Airplane career, Kantner, Slick, Jack Cassidy and Jorma Kaukonen had just about had enough. The Starship years were yet to come, along with a new sound more in line with the changes wrought by the exit of Peter Gabriel and the rise of the beast, Phil Collins.

"Bark" does contain the occasional standout tune, but the gem here is "Third Week In The Chelsea." Penned by guitarist Kaukonen and sung as a duet with Grace Slick, the song chronicles the disintegration of one of America's most creative bands.

"All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame

To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name

But all I know is what I feel whenever I'm not playing

And emptiness ain't where it's at and neither's feeling pain."

Kaukonen's unmistakable voice combines with the deep warble of Slick's to create a haunting and touching portrait of the price of fame. The simple guitar and harmonica backing are reminiscent of early Dylan and worthy of the comparison.

Before Butch Vig and company went on to bigger fame as Garbage, the original trio existed as Fire Town, a pop/rock outfit with a country flavor. The title song from their debut LP "The Good Life," had the sound production to be a hit single. Sadly, the downbeat lyrics about the dangers of banality may have doomed this record to life in the cutout bin, a fate it did not deserve.

"Now the shopping mall boys are sleeping

On the feathers of yesterday's crimes

Dreaming dreams of dancing centerfolds

With perfect alabaster eyes

And Uncle Sam's got a brand new scam

Selling franchised frozen pies

He says he'll sell you a vote or a bulletproof coat

'Cause there's nothing money won't buy."

Not exactly "We are the World," but still a lot of fun to sing along to.

Now for a real obscure track to give this list some actual credibility. Pink Turns Blue, those fun-loving Yugoslavians put out one record I know of. I would have sold it for a song, except that I had to keep it for one ultra-cool cut, "Your Master is Calling."

The rest of this murky platter has dirges like "The Curse," "Darkness," and the ever-cheery "Faces of the Gone," but the seven minutes and forty-three seconds of "Your Master" make it all better.

A driving bass and twangy guitar follow the persistent drums in a brave effort to wake up the listener who has fallen into a deep funk from the previous tracks.

I suppose these guys thought they were being really Goth. The front cover looks like a photograph of Count Dracula's summer home. Who'd have guessed it had such a killer song on it?

Finally, return with me to 1983 and the pop wimpiness of Industry.

Remember them? They were so cute and cuddly in a new wavy kind of way. Their layered clothing and fashion-victim haircuts promised music at least as sweet as a-ha if not The Three O'clock. Too bad they only wrote one pop song worth playing incessantly. "State of The Nation" bounces along with synth melodies and plenty of artificial soul, but once again, the message is not so cute.

"I see them marching off to war-

They're looking so heroic

I'm told they won't be gone for long-

But that's a lie and they know it...

Ten thousand gone, they won't return,

Never to be seen again

Strategic games are all we learn in the end..."

Now how could such nice boys write such a grumpy lyric? I suppose it was their attempt at being relevant because the rest of their record is filled with junk like "Romantic Dreams," and "Shangri-La." Oh well, they can't all be hits.

I need to get off my duff one of these nights and request the video for "State of the Nation" on VH1's request show. It's a true lost classic with the four of them mincing around in a submarine like spastic teenagers. Oh wait, they were spastic teenagers, they deserve to be ignored.

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