Until I embarked on my shamefully still-unfinished deep dive into Christine McVie’s discography, I was completely unaware of this album’s existence or her involvement therein.
Indeed, beyond falling so hard for the bittersweet Bourgeois Tagg hit ‘I Don’t Mind at All’ that I rushed out circa Halloween ’87 to buy the cassette single of it — spurred further by David Fincher’s subtly innovative video and Todd Rundgren’s role as producer not long after his crafty handing of XTC’s Skylarking — I was blissfully ignorant of any subsequent music from either Brent Bourgeois or his former creative partner Larry Tagg. (I also thought they were Canadian when in fact they’re Jersey boys.)
[Correction: Bourgeois = Jersey. BT formed in Sacramento.]
Mind you, there’s scant reason to have paid attention 30-some years ago when this disc dropped and fizzled fast. The only thing that might have grabbed my attention at the time is a cover of the Zombies’s ‘Time of the Season.’ But as with everything else on Bourgeois’s solo debut, it suffers greatly from the same booming blandness that afflicted so many charting stars at the time, your Richard Marxes and Robbie Nevils and the like.
Lump this one in with the rest of the bloodless Cutting Crew-ing of rock that grunge and jam bands would soon crush.
Ms. McVie’s contribution amounts to very little: she merely doubles the chorus refrain and other key phrases in the song ‘Can’t Feel the Pain,’ usually an octave higher than Brent. It’s the most memorable piece here.
If you dare listen to this whole album — as I did, twice, because I’m a masochist — you might assume Christine appears on a half-dozen other tune. That’s actually percussionist Vicki Randle.
Rick Vito, then of Fleetwood Mac, also cameoed, adding guitar to ‘Wild Child,’ while future American Idol judge Randy Jackson and veteran drummer Steve Jordan (one of the best) are the rhythm section for most of the record.
That’s all that need be said, other than to make clear I do not own this LP, nor need to. The image above comes from Discogs.
I should also point out that this release dates to 1990 … not Dec. 5, 2024, as Spotify suggests. That’s the date it first became available on Spotify. I don’t know which Spotify practice is worse: incorrectly dating titles that way, or simply marking everything as Jan. 1 of a given year when they don’t know when an album came out within that year. Can’t tell you how long it took me to break my son of the habit of believing Spotify release dates when they indicate a New Year’s Day drop date.