Few bands have ever faced such resistance to making new music when they reformed after a long absence. Reunion albums, we all know, are vastly more likely to be pale imitations of the original band's sound and style. Sometimes the chops aren't there anymore. Sometimes the new songs are woefully lacking. And very often, the album is done for all the wrong reasons: money and/or a fix for that 'fame addiction.' But there have been good ones: The Bangles, The Soft Boys, The Buzzcocks, Jason and the Scorchers. Even The Who, with half its membership dead, have played some of the finest shows of their career since reforming in the last few years. A couple of years back, Alex Chilton told his fellow members of Big Star that he really wanted to do an album of new Big Star material 'with this band.' And that's the key ingredient in this record's success -- the decision to make the record was made by Chilton with the others' enthusiastic agreement -- they didn't even have a record label, and didn't really know if anyone would put it out, much less agree to let them have complete artistic control of the end result. And it's with great pleasure that Big Star In Space can be counted an artistic success. Now, whether anyone buys it remains to be seen. There is, after all, a more enormous hurdle of preconceptions to be dealt with than any reunion since The Beatles or The Jam (both of whom resisted the urge to reform, at least partly due to those very preconceptions).

Alex Chilton has always been a man nearly everyone would describe as 'difficult.' While the 'new' Chilton of 2005 seems to be a different man from the Chilton of, say, 1974, which is to say, by all reports he seems to be happier and in a better mental state than ever before, difficult is a word not likely to ever not describe Chilton. And when you couple a lifelong proclivity to challenging preconceptions with a public that for the last 30 years has always wanted Chilton to be something he never truly was, logic would tell you that a new Big Star record might not be what some newer fans want it to be. The man's defied others' expectations of him for most of his life. The whole 'Big Star sound,' while it was always a completely collaborative thing between the four founding members -- Christopher Bell, Chilton, Stephens, and Andy Hummel, with mentor/keyboard player/occasional backing vocalist Terry Manning, Ardent Records producer/engineer playing a small role -- was really something that Alex Chilton joined, not created. The Big Star sound so much beloved and worshiped and imitated by thousands of fans around the world was fully in place in Christopher Bell's earlier bands (with Stephens, Manning, and Hummel) -- Rock City and Icewater. Chilton went from superstardom in the soulful Box Tops, to being a NYC based folkie who followed in the footsteps of artists like Loudon Wainwright, to being a member of a Memphis-based Anglophile rock band. Chilton played that 'Big Star sound' from 1971-1974. And then abandoned it completely except on the rare occasions it was 'revived' for oldies Big Star shows. And don't forget, either, that the original 4-piece Big Star only made one album, 1972's #1 Record. 1974's Radio City was a compilation of tracks recorded by three different bands, the original quartet (one song), the Dolby Fuckers (three songs), and the reformed trio without Christopher Bell (the remainder of the album, tho several of the songs dated back to Bell's involvement, they were new recordings). Hummel, in some ways the glue that held the band together, had quit by the time Radio City was in the stores. 1975's Sister Lovers was a drug and alcohol fueled dark masterpiece, the sound of a young man breaking down completely, taking the sound of the band, and essentially, immolating it. From there, there could be no going on. Beyond Sister Lovers was only death. Which Christopher Bell found in 1978.

But Big Star has always been a mixed blessing for Alex Chilton. On the one hand, those three albums are among the very finest works of any artist in the music industry in the 20th Century. Period. Chilton might never admit it, but he knows. On the other hand, it's very much been an albatross around his neck for the last 30 years. The records never sold, no one came to see them play in the day, and even years later, after the albums had been elevated by hardcore fans and critics to classic level, no royalties flowed his way. And both fans and critics for 30 years have been very vocal in their displeasure over Chilton's willful refusal to sound just like those records, even though those who knew Chilton knew he could still sound just like that at will. Big Star's much-lauded SXSW appearance in 2004 was, speaking as someone who saw the original band live, a vastly superior musical performance over any the band gave in 1974. Put another way, backed by ace drummer Stephens and the immensely talented Auer and Stringfellow (the latter's also been in R.E.M. for the last decade), the new Big Star can and does play Big Star songs better now than the original band (which seldom played live) did back in the day.

But Chilton's forte has always been this: he's a masterful interpreter of others' material, a stubborn, playful and visionary experimentalist, and a guitar player with few peers. Most important of all, he's always had a God-given ability to reach out and touch souls with his voice. For a while in Big Star, he was interpreting Bell's sound and material (just as Bell masterfully sang Chilton's "In The Street," Big Star's now-signature song). But some fans have always refused to allow Chilton to follow his own muse.

Another really important key to understanding Big Star, and to fully appreciating their new album, is this: the guys in Big Star grew up in Memphis, arguably the birthplace of modern music as we know it. In the '60s, when they were teens, all anyone wanted to know about in Memphis was Stax/Volt, Elvis Presley, Al Green, Sun Records, etc. Being intelligent, rebellious kids, Big Star naturally went in the exact opposite direction, and were total, utter Anglophiles. Addicted to British Invasion rock bands, garage rock, heavy guitar rock, and especially glam (particularly Chilton), which exactly coincided with Big Star's career, but was nearly totally unknown in mainstream America at the time. Put more simply, if you were a teen in Memphis, and considered yourself hip, you listened to bands from London and New York (Big Star was among the first to 'discover' the Velvet Underground), and considered your local music scene to be rather backwards and not particularly cool. But like any teens, they grew up, and with the benefit of hindsight and life experience, they recognized the truth -- that they'd grown up in one of the most musically vital and brilliant music communities anywhere, it was and in fact always had been 'hip,' and they came to embrace that heritage.

In Chilton's case, it meant going directly from covering Velvets and T. Rex songs to covering Furry Lewis (his cover of "I Will Turn Your Money Green" is definitive) and Rufus Thomas. And don't think this was EVER far from Big Star's hearts, either; remember that Terry Manning, who was certainly Christopher Bell's mentor, engineered many of the classic Stax/Volt Records, produced his first number one with the Staple Singers ("I'll Take You There," "Respect Yourself") at more or less the same time he co-produced the Staple Singers (and Led Zep III), and Sister Lovers producer Jim Dickinson was a founding member of The Dixie Flyers, who backed everyone at Muscle Shoals from Aretha to Wilson Pickett. If #1 Record had been a hit, if Chris Bell had not had his mental breakdown and quit, if the original Big Star had stayed together for a whole series of albums, would they have remained a resolutely Anglophile band? Realistically, probably not. A lot of the type of material featured in Chilton's solo albums might very well have wound up on Big Star albums, albeit in a different form. And as I pointed out in an article written for this website last year (you can find it on this site under "Web Exclusives"), it was always Bell and Manning that were die-hard Beatles nuts. Chilton was always a Beach Boys/Brian Wilson/Kinks/Who man. So with Bell long gone and Manning not involved, it stands to reason that any new Big Star record would be more nearly influenced by Chilton's faves (as well as by Auer's and Stringfellow's), not by Bell's. But perhaps, incidentally, and fortunately for those post-1980 Big Star fans who insist that Chilton should still sound like Bell, it's probably a good thing that among Auer/Stringfellow's main influences are, um, Big Star and Christopher Bell.

Which brings us, at last, to Big Star In Space. This is a fresh, vibrant, humorous, exciting and utterly contemporary record, with both feet planted firmly in the Big Star legacy, and more importantly (especially considering the involvement of the Seattle/grunge/Posies camp), quite firmly in the Memphis (not British) tradition. While Chilton produced and shepherded the project, it's also fully and completely a 'band' record, inconceivable to reproduce without any of the four members, all of whom are crucial as both musicians, songwriters, and singers. All the songs are co-credited to all four members, except as noted below (although I'm going to arbitrarily discuss them below attributed to their likely main author(s)). Andy Hummel told me recently that In Space sounded to his ears like a logical follow-up to the original records, and I'd wholeheartedly agree. It's also likely to be quite controversial among those Big Star fans who didn't go on to cherish Chilton's solo catalogue. Because if there's one thing you can say up front, it is that it does NOT sound like a Christopher Bell record. Songs were recorded in a couple of week-long blocks of time, with the album's proviso being that they would write and record in the studio, and try to get a song a day done (which they very nearly did). While this method of recording might seem anathema to fans of #1 Record (recorded over a year-long period, via endless overdubs), it must be noted that in the early sessions for Radio City while Bell was still involved, this is exactly the way they recorded: cut a track live in the studio with the 4-piece band, then sweeten it via vocal overdubs, additional instruments, etc. So right up front, for those that will most surely criticize this album for 'not sounding like the old Big Star,' bear in mind that Radio City was recorded the same wayas this album was; the only difference is that on Radio City most (not all) of the songs had been written in advance. But some of Radio City (like "Mod Lang" and "Morpha Too") was written and recorded JUST like In Space. So if you think this one's 'different' than the 'classic' Big Star, you're perhaps a bit misguided. Different styles to the front, but different in any deep intrinsic way? Not really.

The opening track "Dony" is being used promotionally to preview the album to fans, via inclusion on a Q sampler and as a download, which is probably a mistake on Ryko's part as it's one of the album's songs that most nearly sounds like a Chilton solo track, and the least like an old Big Star track; that will put some newbie fans off. The track opens with a tugging riff from Chilton in the left channel, an off-mic 'aowhh', and then Auer enters on the right channel (their guitars stay separated that way for the entire album). A simple modern Chilton boy/girl song, elevated to something vastly superior to his similar solo work by the massed group backing vocals and sharp instrumental work. Solid, but not outstanding, a good warm-up track. It's grown on me tremendously, though, and gets better with every spin.

Auer's "Lady Sweet" should've probably been the track with which to 'preview' the album, as it's the most overtly referential to Bell. We've always known that the Posies contingent in the band would ensure that the album would, at least in spots, sound very much like the Big Star of old, and this one could easily have been a Bell contribution to Radio City. It's gorgeous, stirring, and manages to evoke in favorable way songs like "Thirteen" and "The Ballad of El Goodo." It's also one of Auer's career best songs. And when those lovely stacked vocals kick in near the end, it's very clear that no matter what skins they now wear, Big Star is back.

Next up is Jody Stephens' "Best Chance We've Ever Had." On first listen, I mistook it for an excellent Chilton song, but it's Stephens singing with Auer adding harmonies. His voice has a wonderful, charming vulnerability that Chilton has mostly lost (or is likely to hide behind a smirk), and in a perfect world, would make a big teen heartthrob out of Stephens. And this song is another unqualified home run. From the opening jangly Chilton guitar on one channel, to the acoustic strum on the other, with Stephens playing tribute to great British Invasion drummers in an inspired rhythmic performance, this one would be a prime candidate for the lead-off single. It's also the best song mainly written by a drummer since "Everybody Hurts."

Stringfellow sings another single-release candidate "Turn My Back On The Sun." It's so blatantly placed smack dab in the middle of Chilton's much-beloved Beach Boys circa '65-66 that they tack the opening to "Wouldn't It Be Nice" (a song Chilton often performed live in the '70s) onto the beginning. It's one of the very best Beach Boys-derived tracks of recent years, while at the same time sounding very fresh and original. It definitely makes me wish the album had been released in June (release date on the promo is stated as "Aug. 30" although Jody told me yesterday he thinks it's shifted back to Sept. 27).

"Love Revolution" is the album's surest flashpoint for those who think they know better than Chilton what a Big Star record should sound like. Opening with a skewed take on the riff from "Hey Bulldog" before Auer chimes in with an archetypal Stax riff (think "Shaft") and a song that replicates the feel of Archie Bell and the Drells "Tighten Up" or any number of Rufus Thomas songs. It falls somewhere in between Manning's 1969 piss-take, "Trashy Dog," and "Big Bird." The horn section, saxophonist Jim Spake (familiar to Chilton fans from his appearances on solo albums, Panther Burn albums, and Box Top reunion albums) and trumpeter Nokie Taylor (ditto), are given songwriting credits here. Now, this song is sure to puzzle some of the latter-day Big Star fans. They'll be asking, 'Is he serious? Is this meant to be a joke?' You'd have to ask Chilton that. Ever since "Boogie Shoes" appeared on the European pressing of 1979's "Like Flies on Sherbert," an example of this type of up-tempo dance/funk song has appeared on virtually all of Chilton's solo works. One would have to assume by now that he just loves playing this kind of music. Speaking objectively, I'd submit that this particular track, bolstered immeasurably by his Big Star bandmates' performance, is probably the best single post-Stax/Volt Memphis dance music track from the last 5-10 years. And let us not forget that Chilton has ALWAYS put songs on albums that were at least partially intended to subvert expectations and get in the audience's face. "Don't Lie to Me," "Mod Lang," and "Kizza Me" for example. This might be seen as merely another facet of that. It's also a really fine track in its own right, and it if didn't appear on a 'Big Star' album, most listeners might agree. But you may be assured there will be many 'fans' who stridently criticize this album just because of this track's inclusion. And don't rule out that Chilton wanted those people to have exactly that reaction. "In your face" is a phrase that could've been coined to describe Chilton's perverse streak.

Stephens' "February's Quiet" reels us back in to more familiar Big Star territory. Again sung by Stephens with Auer harmonizing behind him (a wonderful sound, that), it's yet another candidate for a single. It's going to come as quite a shock to many longtime fans just how strong his contributions to this album are. Sure, "Way Out West" (written by Hummel, sung by Stephens) was one of Radio City's best songs. And "Fireplace" (which is what Chilton always called Stephens' "For You", and I picked up calling it that from him) on Sister Lovers is easily one of the strongest tracks on that album, too, certainly it's the best pop song. But with Chilton, Auer, and Stringfellow, three of the finest all-around musicians you could hope to have backing you, Stephens has hit another one out of the park. And the album's only half over.

"Mine Exclusively" is a track written by Shirlie Mae Matthews, about whom I know nothing (although the song was a regional 1966 hit by The Olympics), and it's a personal candidate for favorite song off the album. An uptempo stomper with a terrific arrangement, it hits like a cannonball, with Auer channeling Steve Cropper hammering out a tough as nails riff, Chilton nailing the lead vocals with effortless magnificence (it's his finest moment on the album), and a Hollies 1966 vocal touch to the chorus. A masterpiece. Chilton might've recorded this song earlier with Teenage Fanclub in an obscure European release, but as I'm writing this the day after getting this new CD, I haven't had time to dig around and see if I have that or not to see if it's the same song.

"A Whole New Thing" is Chilton being Mr. Ironic again. A rather average song that sounds like it wouldn't have been a highlight of a recent Chilton solo album, it survives mainly on some wonderfully droll backing vocals, and on its tongue-in-cheek wit. It would seem to reflect Chilton's long-standing love for the Beach Boys' 1977 album Love You (which is a really divisive album among BBs fans, love or hate it). Personally, I lean more towards the 'love it' side with Love You, but would find it hard to defend against detractors. Still, this song has a really undeniable chugging, post-Chuck Berry riff, and with marvelously arranged backing vocals, and Chilton's sheer enthusiasm selling the track, it's become another car fave of mine. And hearing the way Alex says 'yeah' in the song just kills me every time. Chilton's fond of spontaneity, and the band hadn't played the song enough to know where the changes were (hence a rather hilarious but totally charming fluff by the drummer early in the song -- I've heard Ringo do the same thing during an early performance of "Get Back," by the way -- fluffing and recovering nicely).

Georg Muffat was a German/French composer circa the beginning of the 1700s, who Chilton dug up somewhere. Along with the dance/funk song, every Chilton solo album for the last 20 years has included a quiet, rather charming little guitar workout of some obscure Italian-sounding instrumental, and this fulfills that function here. It does come off better than many of his previous forays into such music simply because Auer duets with him, and the fine rhythm section offers their support, too. I must say, though, that "Boplexity" is my personal favorite of these numbers he's assayed (and he wrote that one). One can only imagine Chilton saying to himself 'see what you missed by not buying my solo albums.' Quaint, amusing, but inconsequential.

"Hung Up With Summer" is another terrific Chilton song. Added to the quartet's songwriting credits this time is Bill Cunningham, who in his long career once played in Chris Bell's 1965 band The Jynx and was an original Box Top with Chilton. This is an excellent, bittersweet song, anchored by what sounds like Chilton's first use of a 12-string, Byrdish guitar sound in 30 years (or doing a good imitation of one on a six, can't decide).

"Do You Want To Make It" sounds to these ears for all the world like a Dennis Wilson-sung Beach Boys song circa 1965 (think "Do You Wanna Dance"). Pure lightweight fun.

"Makeover" is the nod to Sister Lovers. Chilton opens with a riff straight out of Rhinoceros' "Apricot Brandy" while rapping "...dial 1-800-666-6666 wwwwwwwww..." as Auer and Chilton start guitar dueling that takes up where the fade on "Helter Skelter" left off, Stringfellow madly racing up and down the neck of his bass, sounding like a song-length Entwistle solo, with Auer and Stephens holding down the fort while Chilton's visits The Negative Zone. Tongue in cheek, and great fun for all.

So, then, this new Big Star is a new ride with its wheels firmly planted in history. Rick Nelson summed it up best: "If memories are all I played, I'd rather drive a truck." Chilton couldn't have said it any better. It's really your call as listeners whether you want to be on this particular bus or not. As for me, count me in big time. And an open letter to Alex: next time, how about getting at least some token involvement by Andy Hummel, Terry Manning, and Jim Dickinson. You've proved you can make a great record with the 'new' band, so now you're finally free to go wherever the music takes you, but why not include all the people who made those original three albums great?!

When I hosted a Big Star panel at SXSW in 2004, someone asked me what I, as a fan, wanted from a new Big Star record. And that question stumped me. Because I really didn't know. I knew I didn't want them to sound like a Big Star copy band. I knew I didn't want them to write teen-oriented songs and pretend to be teenagers. I knew I didn't want Chilton to be in the dark personal space that produced Sister Lovers again just for my/our enjoyment. But really, in reflection, the answer should've been simple. All I wanted was a good Big Star record. And they gave us a great one.

Most exciting of all is that there's no reason why this band can't go on as an adjunct to Chilton's more experimental and roots-oriented solo career, Stringfellow & Auer's careers both solo and the Posies, and Stephens day job as the Ardent Studios manager, and occasional producer. It'll be great fun seeing them play these songs live, and you know what? Based on the evidence here and their stellar live performances, they just might have another masterpiece left in 'em, too, boring old farts or not. And major props to Rykodisc for having the courage to let them make this album, exactly as they wanted it made.

(Kent H. Benjamin, 28 July 2005)