SAN JOSE MERCURY NEWS
Copyright 1991, San Jose Mercury News
DATE: Friday, June 7, 1991
PAGE: 23
EDITION: Morning Final
SECTION: Eye
LENGTH:  15 in.  Medium
ILLUSTRATION: Photo
SOURCE: By HARRY SUMRALL, Mercury News Music Writer
MEMO:  MUSIC REVIEW

CROWES MAKE CASE FOR BURYING THE PAST
     WERE we back in the '60s, or was it the '70s Wednesday at the
Warfield Theater?  It was neither, but no one had bothered to
mention that to the Black Crowes or Jellyfish. 
     Hot on the heels of their commercially successful debut
records, the groups stormed into the Bay Area with two very
different takes on rock, both ensconced in the past.  But in their
differences could be seen and heard the possibilities and problems
of r
etro thinking.
     The Bay Area's Jellyfish opened with a wonderful set that drew
heavily on the Beatles, in particular, and on '60s British pop in
general.  There were crystalline harmonies and lithe melodies on
most of the songs from the group's album ''Bellybutton,'' we
lcome reminders of the clean, perky pop of that era.  As if these
songs didn't make the point sufficiently, the group decked itself
out in garish psychedelic garb that was as much tongue-in-cheek as
it was nostalgic.
     That seemed to be the real point to Jellyfish and its music. 
On such songs as the thumping ''That Is Why'' and an improbable
version of Paul McCartney's ''Jet,'' the group used the past as a
creative device from which it sculpted a sound that was new an
d fresh.  Yes, the derivations were there, but there was also a wit
and intellect, as well, to tweak the mind and tease the memory.
      Jellyfish proved that looking back isn't such a bad way of
thinking ahead.
     And the Black Crowes?  The name notwithstanding, this
Atlanta-based group is a real dog.
     Southern rock was bad enough the first time, back in the '70s. 
But the Crowes have had the questionable taste to mimic it
shamelessly, stitching in swatches of the Rolling Stones, the Faces
and Aerosmith along the way.
     Performing the songs from its double-platinum debut album,
''Shake Your Money Maker,'' the group slammed away at the crowd
with a mega-decibel sound that was a blaring, screeching travesty.
     Vocalist Chris Robinson - the first effeminate redneck in rock
- flounced about the stage, imitating Steve Tyler imitating Mick
Jagger.  He didn't speak to the capacity crowd - he wailed his
remarks to it like a blues belter, getting in the usual number 
of procreative verbs in the process.
     It was too cute for words.
     What wasn't particularly cute were songs such as ''Twice As
Hard,'' ''Sister Luck'' and the execrable ''Thick N' Thin,''
dreary, mindless rockers that came with the same processed blues
licks and dull monolithic beats that made groups such as Lynyrd
Skyn
yrd revolting in their day.
     At one point, the Crowes even pounded out a version of the
Beatles' classic ''Get Back,'' but they did it with such a
ham-handed heaviness that it was rendered unlistenable.
     Are Southern boys this dumb on purpose, or do they come by it
naturally?
     Not that it matters.  The Crowes make much of just how they
are rescuing rock from its doldrums with their no-nonsense sound. 
But what they don't seem to realize is that it is strutting
ignoramuses like themselves - with nothing but cliches from the pas
t to offer - who have driven people away from rock in the first
place.
     Fortunately, for every bow-wowing Crowe out there, there's
also a Jellyfish to remind us just how good rock was - and still
might be.

CAPTION:  PHOTO: Len Lahman - Mercury News Black Crowes lead singer
Chris Robinson postured and pranced in a secondhand Mick Jagger
imitation.