Was (Not Was) Pick Of the Litter: Shut Up And Dance Already!

Music Review: Was (Not Was) - Pick Of The Litter 1980 - 2010

Pick Of The Litter (sub-titled "Hey, King Kong!") is a long-overdue collection which assembles the best of Was (Not Was), the funkiest, yet artiest funk-rock-jazz — or whatever you want to call it — collective of musical miscreants to ever rise up out of the mean streets of Detroit.

Honestly, where else on earth could you find a collection which places such seemingly musical opposites as Ozzy Osbourne, Marcus Miller, Mel Tormé, Iggy Pop, Leonard Cohen, and the recently deceased Doug Fieger (of the Knack) under the same roof? At one point, even actress Kim Bassinger gets in on the act, dueting with Ozzy on 1983's "Shake Your Head" from the album, Born To Laugh At Tornadoes.

I mean, how wild is that? Was (Not Was) may have been primarily a studio concoction. But this was not your typical group of glossy Steely Dan styled session cats — not by a long shot.

Was (Not Was) — helmed by producer/bassist Don Was (Fagenson) and multi-instrumentalist David Was (Weiss) — was more like an ever-evolving community of musicians committed to the singular ideal of maintaining the fun in funk, even as they ever-so-subtly slipped in a bit of politically charged commentary in the process.

The David Byrnes of the world could only dream of accomplishing what these guys did in such seminal eighties dance singles as "Tell Me I'm Not Dreamin'" (with its politically incendiary Ronald Reagan samples), "Out Come The Freaks," "Walk The Dinosaur" and "Spy In The House Of Love." This was white-boy funk with a touch of MC5 radicalism, chased down with a shot of New York Dolls attitude. Funky, yes. But neither chic nor pretentious in the least.

What they accomplished in the process was to basically turn the traditional sounds of Motown completely inside out. Don Was in particular has long since gone on to become a producer of considerable renown — working with everyone from Dylan on down. What this collection does is serve as a reminder of just what got him to the big dance in the first place.

All of the aforementioned eighties dance classics are here (though I was a little disappointed they included the 7" version, rather than the full-on extended mix of "Tell Me I'm Not Dreamin'" — see video at the end of this review). I mean you just gotta' love those samples of Reagan repeating "Out Of Control" over and over again, and they are sorely missed here. My complaints with this collection, however, end there.

Latter-day singles like Was (Not Was) nineties remake of the Temptations "Papa Was A Rolling Stone" and "I Feel Better Than James Brown" (is there a better lyric anywhere than "I was attending Mardi Gras with Fidel Castro") from 1990's Are You Okay? hold up particularly well today. Ditto for "Elvis' Rolls Royce," an equally unlikely collaboration with none other than a perfectly gravelly, boozy voiced Leonard Cohen.

Anyway, they are all here — gathered together under the sort of funky umbrella that only a pair of musical miscreants like Don and David Was could conjure up. Make no mistake. This is thinking mans' funk, with just enough of the sort of politically correct humor that we could use one hell of a lot more of right about now. I mean, what better way is there to celebrate the world going to shit than to dance, right?

Was (Not Was) Pick Of The Litter arrives in stores this Tuesday. So shut up and dance already.

Survivor 20: Heroes, Villains, Strippers, Witches, Cowboys And Pirates

TV Review : Survivor 20: Heroes Vs. Villains - "Slay Everyone, Trust No One"

If the first episode of the twentieth season of reality TV powerhouse Survivor is any indication, viewers of the perennial ratings juggernaut are in for a hell of a ride this go-round.

The new season pits both fan-favorites and despicable evil-doers from past seasons against each other in a "heroes vs. villains" format worthy of the sort of "babyfaces" and "heels" you see on pro-wrestling shows like WWE Raw. Just to make sure there is no mistaking whose side is who, Jerri "The Black Widow" Manthey even wore her Wicked-Witch-of-the-West black hat, which country boy Colby matched with his own Sunday-best, crown of virtuous cowboy white.

Thursday night's show kicked off in high style with a two-hour episode where sex and violence were front and center. Less than thirty minutes in, and you already had multiple injuries, and a topless damsel-in-distress nonetheless racing to victory, and defiantly flipping off her opponents with a double-fingered salute to boot!

Meanwhile, as "Sugar" (now there's a stripper name if ever I've heard one) scrambled to find the bikini-top she lost courtesy of rival competitor Sandra, bearded pirate-guy Rupert was nursing a broken toe, while tough-gal Stephanie simply shrugged off her dislocated shoulder and had it popped back into place.

All of this came courtesy of the very first reward challenge. Yup. This one already looks like it's gonna' be good.

To the victors go the spoils — which in the case of the babyface "heroes" side meant fire. However leave it to the do-gooders to look a gift horse in the mouth as Rupert was still unable to make fire with his hard-won flints.

Meanwhile over on the evil side of the island, Boston Rob had no trouble whatsoever rubbing two sticks together to create a small inferno worthy of Dante himself. This was a feat which particularly impressed the dragon-slaying Coach, who immediately erased all the macho-cred he had previously earned by dragging Colby across enemy lines to defeat by cooing sweet nothings like "I hang on your every word" into Rob's ear.

Sensing a challenge to her own considerable man-slaying attributes, Black Widow Jerri immediately then set her kitty claws on Coach, who forgot Big Rob's fire-making prowess long enough to indicate a possible interest in creating some sparks of the romantic kind with Jerri. At this point, you'd be forgiven for mistaking Survivor for something more along the lines of Temptation Island.

Back on the babyface side, our favorite topless stripper Sugar set her own sights on Colby, who did his Brokeback Mountain best to resist her advances. Okay, in all fairness it was just because he wanted to sleep rather than listen to Sugar talk all night.

Either way, boy did Sugar pick herself the wrong cowboy to saddle up to. In the end, it certainly didn't help her at Tribal Council, where she was voted off the island for talking too much at night and crying too much after losing immunity challenges.

Tune in next week to find out what makes Boston Rob pass out in the jungle, and his eyes roll right back up into his head. Yup. Survivor's gonna' be a good one this season.

The Rockologist: Who's Next For The Super Bowl?

With Super Bowl Sunday nearly upon us, you really can't help but marvel at just how far the halftime show has come this past ten years or so. When the Who open for the Colts (as well as that other team) on Sunday, they'll follow in the footsteps of a who's who of superstar rock acts which in recent years has included no less than Springsteen, McCartney, Petty, Prince, U2 and the Stones. It's definitely become a prestige gig.

It's easy to forget that the halftime tradition actually began way back when with the cheery whitebread pablum of Up With People. Back in those days, halftime meant either time to make that beer run, a potty run, or at the very least time to switch the channel over to the Lingerie Bowl.

At the same time, the NFL's decision to book mostly big-deal classic rock acts in the wake of Janet Jackson's infamous "Nipplegate" appearance several years ago, speaks volumes about just how safe rock has really become.

The Stones may have once danced with Mr. D and sang about starfuckers and cocksuckers, but these days they are as about as threatening as an old rerun of Leave It To Beaver, and inspire at least double the nostalgia value. Much as I hate to admit it, acts like these are in many ways a sort of Up With People for the new millennium. Even sacred cows like Springsteen and U2 have to admit that playing for the NFL is about as corporate as corporate rock gets.

With Led Zeppelin unavailable for bookings at the moment, the Who was the most obvious next best choice for this year's big show. The perennial number three of the big sixties rock triumvirate along with the Beatles and the Stones, it was simply their turn. Well at least as long as a certain golden god of rock was busy playing bluegrass with Alison Krauss anyway...

Following Springsteen's halftime show last year won't be easy for Townshend and Daltrey either. The Boss pulled off the amazing feat of basically condensing his three hour rock and roll marathon and rock and roll revival meeting into the NFL's slotted fifteen minutes.

I don't expect the Who to suck. We're gonna get "Pinball Wizard" and "Won't Get Fooled Again" just as we got "Born To Run" and "Glory Days" last year. Townshend will probably throw a few windmills up in there too.

But I also don't expect it to be great.

Unlike Springsteen, the Who have definitely shown their age in recent years. Daltrey is still a powerful frontman as he demonstrated on his solo tour last fall, but his voice hasn't aged well. Don't expect to hear that famous closing scream during "Won't Get Fooled Again." Townshend's hearing has become so damaged from all those years performing with the Guinness World record holders for loudest band in the world, that he often performs with acoustic guitars rather than electric these days. So I expect the Who's performance will be Tom Petty decent, but not quite Prince or Springsteen great.

Which brings us to next year. The betting line forms here for who you think may follow Townshend and company for the big game in 2011. Here are some possibilities to ponder before you lay your money down:

AC/DC: If I were a betting man, this is who I'd be putting my money on. The Aussie bad boys won't be the NFL's first choice, but I'm betting the Eagles turn them down again. AC/DC is the perfect alternative. They are classic rock icons, and their simple, chunky riffing fits the smashmouth mentality of football like a glove. Nothing says jockspeak quite like a song like "Big Balls" does (although they probably won't be allowed to play that one). Besides, there hasn't really been a bonafide hard rock act at the Superbowl since Kiss, right? If AC/DC is good enough for Walmart, they are good enough for football. Odds: Dead-even

The Eagles: Although I'm relatively certain the Eagles will turn them down again, I include them here on the off chance they'll actually say yes this year. After all, Springsteen finally did, right? What makes the Eagles such a no-brainer is the way they walk such a fine line between rock and country. You can't really go wrong with a safe bet like this. Everybody's happy, and by the time the first down of the third quarter is played, no one will remember what they just heard. Take it easy, indeed. Odds: 5-1

Kenny Chesney: Of course, if you want to go country, why not go all the way? Country music is still as American as apple pie, and well, the NFL itself, and Chesney's brand of twang plays more like a countrified version of big stadium rock anyway. The chicks dig him, all those guys who drive Ford pick-ups secretly want to be him, and as long as he stays as hot as he is, there's definitely going to be a Super Bowl in his future at some point. It probably won't be next year though. Odds: 15-1

John Mellencamp: The former Johnny Cougar would certainly play well with the football crowd — especially if he stuck with the hits like "Rockin In The USA," "Pink Houses," and the rest. Mellencamp's always been the sort of guy who plays well with conservatives who really want to like Springsteen, but can't get past his pinko politics (even though Mellencamp's blue stripes aren't too far removed from Bruce's). Like Petty was a few years ago, Mellencamp is the sort of the journeyman rocker who is a natural choice for the tailgating crowd. Odds: 10-1

Coldplay: Their music is big like U2, anthemic like Springsteen, and ever since they started wearing military style jackets in concert, they've even started to seem a bit more masculine than they used to. Love em' or hate em', they are also one of the biggest bands in the world and should have a new album ready to pimp by next year. The downside here of course is Chris Martin's still rather feminine falsetto, and some would say sometimes whiny sounding lyrics. Not exactly AC/DC tough, but don't count em' out either. Odds: 20-1

Neil Young: His songwriting pedigree is undeniable, and his classic rock credentials are impeccable — particularly if he packs up Crazy Horse for the ride. However, his unpredictability poses a problem. A crowd expecting "Rockin In The Free World" is just as likely to get something from Fork In The Road or an impromptu set of unreleased folkabilly tunes. Despite Neil's recent embrace of capitalism with 30-disc box sets and sky-high ticket prices, Neil would also likely shy away from anything as overtly corporate as the NFL. Springsteen got away with it only because the Boss is nothing if not a populist. Odds: 50-1

Bob Dylan: Dylan on the other hand doesn't seem to have much of a problem with appearing too corporate these days, what with the ads for Victoria Secret and all. Dylan's songs are also known and loved by pretty much everybody who has ever turned on a radio or sang at a karaoke bar. However, even if he played stuff like "Like A Rolling Stone," I just don't see the croak translating to a stadium full of rowdy football fans or a national television audience. Odds: 100-1

A Different Story For Every Set of Eyes...



The Neil Young book deal is starting to look like it may actually happen. In the meantime remember that "there aint' nothing like the friend, who can tell you you're just pissing in the wind..."

God bless you Neil. And stay tuned.

Tomeka Is Sir Mix-A-Lot's Surprising New Discovery

Music Review: Tomeka - The Black Hood

Tomeka Williams is not the sort of artist you would normally expect to be associated with the guy who gave the world — among other things — what is arguably the most famous song ever recorded celebrating the female backside in "Baby Got Back."

Yet here it is.

Tomeka's debut album for Sir Mix-A-Lot's Rhyme Cartel label is bold, brassy, surprisingly innovative, and most of all a dramatic departure from the sort of bass-heavy, booty-licious jams Seattle's most famous rap export is famous for.

This is an album which speaks highly for both artists. Sir Mix-A-Lot proves himself to be both a great producer and a more than worthy collaborator for a new artist who could just prove to be an important new voice at a time when pop music is so sorely in need of one.

For Mix's part, it speaks volumes in terms of the much wider and far more diverse musical palette he apparently draws from than anyone familiar with his own work probably ever expected. Mix-A-Lot is a full-on partner-in-crime with Tomeka here. He not only co-produced the album with Tomeka, but either wrote or co-wrote fully seven of the albums ten tracks.

The first thing you notice here is the decided rock edge on many of the songs. While a song title like "Ho" might suggest some sort of gangsta' rap joint on its surface, the song actually owes more to the sassy empowerment of a tough rocker grrrl like Pink or Joan Jett, than it does to any sort of B-girl sleaze or misogynist hip-hop. The fuzzy rock guitars are front and center on this track, while songs like the equally edgy "Why" are powered by the sort of heavy electronics favored by guys like Trent Reznor or Thom Yorke.

The girl also has some impressive vocal chops though, as she amply demonstrates on the funky, Beyonce-like "Me Like." Listen up fellas' — when Tomeka breathes lines like "me like his lips/you should see where they kiss," you either wanna' be in that car next to her, or you simply don't have a pulse. Get the picture?

But Tomeka also shows a more socially conscious, and dare I say, even tender side on songs like "Heroes (A Letter to Obama)" and "Way Back Home," which finds the artist yearning for a more downhome and distant time and place. When Tomeka sings the lyrics "Stained glass sweatin' in a Baptist church/ Preachers in the pulpit spreadin' that word," you can feel the spirit moving in time with the gospel backing vocals.

The opening "What She Gave" paints a similar picture of simpler, less complicated times "when none of your loved ones died, playin' softball, and everyone had a Grandma." There is a lyrical depth in these songs that is, if nothing else, quite uncommon for such a new voice. Tomeka displays the same sort of lyrical depth on the title track, which finds her taking on, among other things, the "seeds left at home while Mommy chases glass." A point only further underscored by more of those ever-so-edgy rock guitars.

It would be easy to lump Tomeka into the sort of nice little retro-soul box occupied by say, Erykah Badu or India Arie. But to do so just wouldn't do her the justice she deserves.

They tell me this album should be in stores sometime in February, but for those who can't wait, it can be downloaded now at Amazon (among other places). My recommendation is don't sleep on this quiet and rather unlikely, but nonetheless powerful new voice. Tomeka is clearly an original, and I've no doubt we haven't heard the last from her.

WCW Is Back And Its New Name Is TNA

Earlier this month, something happened in the world of professional wrestling that hasn't been seen in something like a decade. Two competing wrestling companies actually went head-to-head with their television programming on a Monday night.

For one night in January 2010, the "Monday Night Wars" of the 1990's were back. But wait — it gets even better. Between the two Monday night wrestling shows — WWE's Monday Night Raw and TNA's Impact — the names involved read like some kind of sports entertainment time warp.

TNA's three-hour extravaganza not only marked the return of Hulk Hogan, but also names like Ric Flair, Eric Bischoff, Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, Sean "X-Pac" Waltman, and the Nasty Boys.

Raw countered with the return of Bret "Hitman" Hart, who hasn't been seen in a WWE ring since Vince McMahon screwed him out of the world championship twelve years ago in a rare real-life incident fans still refer to as the "Montreal Screwjob." It has long since gone on to become the stuff of legend among those who follow the soap opera for men that is pro-wrestling. Most insiders also believe Hart's return will lead to a scripted final chapter to the "Montreal Screwjob" with McMahon which will play out at this year's Wrestlemania pay-per-view.

What makes all of this most interesting however, is that if you blinked for a second — not to mention overlooked the fact that guys like Scott Hall look quite a bit worse for their wear these days — you'd almost swear it was the mid-nineties again.

For those unfamiliar, perhaps a brief history lesson is in order here.

During the 90's, pro-wrestling enjoyed a brief period of unprecedented mainstream success, that was driven mostly by the very heated and intense competition between the two primary national wrestling promotions.

Vince McMahon's World Wrestling Federation (now WWE) had been there before in the eighties with stars like Hulk Hogan and Randy "Macho Man" Savage. But when Hogan defected to Ted Turner's rival World Championship Wrestling (WCW) — lured away by a lighter schedule and a fatter paycheck — other WWF stars, including Savage, Rowdy Roddy Piper, Ultimate Warrior, Hall, Nash, and Waltman soon followed suit.

Even Bret Hart eventually wound up in WCW, which contributed in more ways than one to the skullduggery which took place at the "Montreal Screwjob." But that's another story...

Long story short, this led Eric Bischoff, who was then running WCW for Turner, to create Monday Nitro, which ran head to head on Monday nights with WWF's Raw, and to become the biggest pain in Vince McMahon's ass for most of the nineties. The Monday Night Wars were born.

For the first several years of the war, WCW's Nitro handed the WWE's ass to them on a platter, thanks in large part to a brilliant storyline involving the renegade NWO (New World Order), a faction of heels ("bad guys"), headed by Hogan, Hall and Nash. In the heavily scripted world of wrestling, this angle was red hot because it created the illusion that actual WWE guys were invading WCW. Bischoff, for his part, did nothing to discourage this distortion of reality. As wrestling stories go, this stuff was pure gold.

While WWE did take a beating for awhile, this also gave McMahon time to regroup, and to develop new stars like WCW cast-off Steve Austin and second generation wrestler Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. When the NWO story went on a few years past its shelf life and grew stale, and Austin's character in particular caught on big-time with the anti-authoritarian, beer-swilling "Stone Cold" persona, WWE eventually regained its place as the top dog in the Monday Night Wars.

The winner in all this of course was the fans. The Monday Night Wars and all the heated competition they fostered, meant both companies fighting tooth and nail to out do each other every Monday — which resulted in some of the best wrestling shows ever seen on TV. It's hard to believe today, but in the nineties the two companies combined for double digit ratings and often outdrew Monday Night Football — especially among younger viewers. Wrestling was actually that hot.

The question now is, can that type of lightning strike twice?

With no real competition since WWE eventually bought WCW for pennies on the dollar once the war had clearly been won — Vince McMahon's Monday Night Raw product has largely coasted for the past ten years. They have developed some new stars — most notably John Cena — but many feel the product has become stale, and has otherwise lost its once cutting edge.

However some real competition could be just the thing to shake things up again. With Hogan's return, interest in Spike's TNA (Total Nonstop Action) is higher than it has probably ever been, and a second round of head-to-head Monday Night Wrestling has been confirmed for March 1st. There are also rumors of a permanent Monday night slot for TNA, if they can deliver a good rating.

Could a return of the Monday Night Wars be in the making?

If so, TNA is going to need to do several things. A show packed with older stars like Hogan, Flair, Nash, etc, is sure to pop some decent ratings in the short term. The novelty and nostalgia factors alone make that a given. But in order to sustain that momentum, TNA is also going to need to develop compelling new stories, and more importantly, groom talented and young new stars.

The three hour TNA show earlier this month was a lot of fun to watch, to be sure. But far too often, it also really resembled the trainwreck that was WCW in its dying days.

The storylines — largely scripted by former WWE and WCW writer Vince Russo — were often hard to follow. Characters like Hogan and Bischoff also really blurred the lines between good and evil. One minute, Hogan is the guy who is there to save the company, and the next Bischoff's character, who is paired with Hulk, is firing fan-favorite Mick Foley and portraying himself as the same sniveling little shit he did in WCW. Good guys? Bad guys? Beats the hell out of me.

In wrestling, the lines between babyface and heel must always be clearly defined. The one thing you don't want to do is confuse who it is the fans are supposed to be cheering for and booing against. TNA is going to need to sharpen these stories, and define the characters better if they are going to succeed long term.

The other problem right now with TNA is that the older stars — many of whom are wrestling long past their expiration date (and look it) — threaten to overshadow the many young talents TNA will need to develop in order to compete with WWE. Right now, the promotion really just looks like the old WCW with a new name.

In addition to Hogan, Bischoff, Flair, Waltman, Hall and Nash — guys like the Nasty Boys, Jeff Jarrett (who helped start the company with his father), Sting, and Scott Steiner also have spots on the roster. WWE and ECW castoffs like Team 3D (the former Dudley Boys), Jeff Hardy (who arrives following a recent drug-related arrest), and even Kurt Angle (with a history of neck problems) complete the very familiar looking locker room there.

These faces should give TNA a short-term ratings bump for sure once the fans find them. But eventually, younger fans in particular are going to realize that Hogan and Flair are old enough to be their grandfathers.

The younger, hipper stars of WWE like Cena, Batista, Randy Orton and Rey Mysterio already have devoted followings not unlike the Rock and Austin once did in the nineties. WWE is also busy developing the next generation of talent with people like C.M. Punk, The Miz, John Morrison, Kofi Kingston, and current champion Sheamus. In order to succeed, TNA will need to do the same.

The good news there is TNA has got plenty of potential new stars in people like Samoa Joe, Christopher Daniels, and A.J. Styles. While TNA fans are already familiar with these names, the larger audience still doesn't know them. What TNA does with these talents is crucial. So far however, the signs are a mixed bag.

Styles is their current champion, but has also been given a character-makeover as a heel who has been paired with Ric Flair. While Flair is probably the best teacher a young guy like Styles could have as far as nurturing the total wrestling package of in-ring skills and the ability to talk smack on a mike — Styles should also be given the chance to develop into an original character on his own. Right now, they seem to be fashioning him as a Flair clone.

Meanwhile Christopher Daniels — who has had many great, but under-watched matches with Styles and others, appears to be moving down the card. I haven't seen much of Samoa Joe — an all too rare combination of size and skill in the wrestling game — at all since Hogan and Bischoff arrived.

I want to see TNA succeed. Not because I favor them over WWE, but because the return of a real competitor means that the quality of the product can only get better. But these are disturbing signs, especially given the history of Hogan and Bischoff's last run at the top together in WCW.

Hopefully, they will work out the kinks and TNA will emerge as a legitimate player in a new Monday Night Wars. This would be nothing but good news for wrestling fans.

Bur for the present, WCW appears to be back and its new name is TNA.

The Case For Latter Day Bowie: A Reality Tour

Although David Bowie has been pretty quiet for the last several years, his enduring influence is something which continues to permeate virtually every aspect of pop music today.

From the electronic excursions of bands like Nine Inch Nails and Radiohead — whose Kid A, Amnesiac, and In Rainbows make up a trilogy not at all unlike Bowie's seventies "Berlin" albums with Brian Eno — to the work of modern bands like Arcade Fire (who Bowie himself has enthusiastically and publicly endorsed), Bowie's stamp remains everywhere, even if the artist himself has been mostly silent in recent years.

So here's the thing.

David Bowie's status as an innovator is pretty much beyond reproach. He's never sold records in quite the same numbers as such contemporaries as the Rolling Stones — outside of the early eighties Let's Dance period anyway. But save for maybe Neil Young (which is another discussion entirely), there simply isn't another artist from the same time period whose influence remains so pervasive in pop music today.

From the textures of electronica to the immediacy of punk (and its nineties bastard child grunge/alternative), most of it can be traced to Bowie's groundbreaking albums in the seventies. But this is also where the rub comes in...

Ask most Bowie fans, and they will tell you that his once-bright, creative spark began to dim back in the eighties shortly after Lets Dance. And for awhile — especially during the latter half of that decade — that argument was largely a legitimate one. While albums like Tonight and Never Let Me Down as well as his brief small-rock-band experiments with Tin Machine had their moments, they were also largely hit-and-miss affairs.

What few people realize, though, is that Bowie had a very nice creative resurgence beginning in the nineties, and continuing well into the past decade. Though his star may have long since dimmed, and game-changing albums like Ziggy Stardust, Diamond Dogs, and Heroes were long behind him, such didn't stop Bowie from following his artistic muse. There would be no Rolling Stones-styled Bridges To Babylon embarrassments.

With nothing left to prove, Bowie instead soldiered on with a series of recordings that catered to no one's expectations other than his own. Nobody is going to mistake albums like 2002's Heathen and 2003's Reality for a groundbreaking work like The Man Who Sold The World. But there is no doubt that with these latter-day albums, Bowie had settled into a very nice place. And perhaps for the first time in his career, he wasn't playing a series of roles, but rather simply being himself.

And that is what the new Bowie 2CD concert set, A Reality Tour, is really all about.

Recorded on the road in support of his then-current Reality album, A Reality Tour was first released as a DVD concert film in 2004. To coincide with its long overdue audio release this coming Tuesday, the Fuse network will be running the original concert in its world-broadcast premiere.

As anyone who has followed Bowie over the years already knows, his career has been as much about performance and its theatrical aspects as it has been about his musical innovations (which are no less significant, though they have been overshadowed at times).

Make no mistake. On A Reality Tour, Bowie remains ever the showman and the crowd pleaser. The difference here is that this is a far more mature Bowie. Finally comfortable in his own skin, Bowie leaves the greasepaint and big productions of years past behind for the most part to concentrate on delivering a more-direct performance.

Even so, he is not at all beyond putting a fresh spin on time-tested favorites ranging from Ziggy period chestnuts like "Hang On To Yourself" and "All The Young Dudes" to his more experimental Berlin-era material like "Heroes" and "Breaking Glass" (one of three very cool, previously unheard extras on these new audio discs).

The common thread through it all is how Bowie makes these songs sound like new creations, while delivering them in newly immediate and personal ways. There are no alter-egos to be found here. No Ziggy. No Thin White Duke. No Plastic Soul Revue. What you see is what you get, and it is a Bowie which owes as much to the time-tested performance tradition of Sinatra and Presley as it does the avant-mime artiste pretensions of personas past.

Credit is also due to Bowie's band on this tour, which includes such longstanding hands as guitarist Earl Slick and keyboardist Mike Garson (both of whom date at least as far back as seventies Bowie tours behind albums like Station To Station).

Anyway, Bowie pleases the crowd here with the hits while making it all sound fresh and new. They are all here too — from "Life On Mars?" to "Fame" to "Ashes To Ashes" to "China Girl" (another of the audio bonus tracks).

The real revelation, however, springs from the more recent (at least relatively speaking) material. Selected songs from his then two current albums — 2002's Heathen and 2003's Reality — more than stand up here to classics from the seventies and eighties, even if they are nowhere near as celebrated. I have to admit that although I never paid them much attention at the time, songs like "New Killer Star" and "Bring Me The Disco King" sound pretty damn good here.

So what does this all mean? Even though the live recordings on A Reality Tour are now about six years old, they demonstrate foremost that even now David Bowie remains a pervasive influence on contemporary music even in what is hopefully a temporary state of absentia. More than that though, they prove that Bowie remains a vibrant artistic force who is nowhere near ready for the rock and roll retirement home that is the oldies circuit.

Don't count Bowie out yet. Because I suspect we are far from hearing the last of him.

The remastered 2CD set of A Reality Tour will be in stores Tuesday.