Here are two good albums, released at about the same time, tied together by the appearance of Marc Benno on both. But the tie that binds is a thin one, and while it isn't unfair to mention them in the same breath, they are totally different animals.

The Asylum Choir was formed of Leon Russell and Marc Benno way back when, long before Leon stood on the stage with George Harrison and Bob Dylan. They put out a record on Smash that was noted for its cover, which featured a roll of "bathroom tissue." The musically excellent album popped in and out of Smash's smashing catalog in near record time.

Flash to Christmas, 1971: Leon has his own company, Shelter, and, it turns out a second Asylum choir tape, in his personal stash, recorded in April, 1969. So it's repackaged and released. What you'd expect is an old bomb with a new cover, but I happen to think it's one of the more interesting things Leon Russell's done. And, while Benno gets equal billing, it is Leon's album. The only things that are apparently Marc's are shared credit for writing on most of the songs, and some occasional backing vocals. No credit is given for who plays what, so I don't even know if Benno did any of that.

If there's a theme to the album it's a raging naivete. This is a bitter Leon Russell lashing out at a straight world that, seemingly, is only now exposing its viciousness to him.

First song, right off the bat is "Home Sweet Chicago," and it was written close on the heels of the Democratic convention, and is about that now famous debacle. "But it's such an unconventional friendly city," he writes. The music is basic Russell, pounding piano and all, but the lyrics are something else: "Hey man, here's what to do/You got to see Chicago Zoo/They got the flying northern redneck/And the goosestep point of view."

This is immediately followed by a somewhat vague, but definitely anti-military song, "Down on the Base." It's got that rocking, jiving barrelhouse sound that contrasts mighty ironically with lines about mutilation and barbs like, "My life's a small price to pay/To teach those commies American Way." Not everything is this heavy, though, and it goes on to what was undoubtedly the first recording of "Hello, Little Friend," which is pretty much a duet with Marc Benno providing strong harmonies. Altogether, though, it's not as good as many of the subsequent recordings.

Last on side one is a song that sounds a little strange now that Leon is on top of the heap, because it's called "Tryin' to Stay 'Live." I guess we're all doing that, but it's kind of funny to hear Leon Russell sing: "Well, I'm tryin' to stay 'live/And keep my sideburns too/Ask all the people/It's getting hard to do." Things have changed some since April of '69, it seems.

Side two is less startling, and there's only one really heavy song, "Ballad for a Soldier." It's a better anti-war song than "Down on the Base," but it takes a bit more listening. This was before Leon recorded "Masters of War," but it's plain that that song had already made its mark on him:

When, I was just a young boy

I played with swords and guns

And I dreamed of the day I'd become a soldier

And kill all of the enemy

My country 'tis of thee

I sing this anthem sadly, won't you hear me

There's also a song called "Straight Brother," that may be about Russell's or Benno's straight brother. It probably is, and it alludes to incidents that seem too personal to be made up, although it's pretty vague. But, it's nowhere near as strange as "When You Wish Upon a Fag." This is the only hard rock anti-smoking song I know of (fag, in this case, is the English and not the American use). Russell throws together a large number of cigarette slogans, jingles and pictorial associations and comes out with a song that's understandably jumbled. But, it makes you listen.

All in all, Asylum Choir II, maybe because of its age, is a fine recording, if you don't mind a little outrage and politics thrown in with your music. It's not propaganda, but rather some heartfelt political music. As they're fond of saying in some sectors of the Movement, "the personal is also the political." This is a good record to prove that.

With Marc Benno being totally submerged on the Asylum Choir record, I could only conclude that he wasn't too good at the time. But, that is definitely not true now, and it may not have been true then. Minnows is the proof.

When I first heard it, I thought it was not a little boring. But, subsequently listenings have shown it to be a record of expertise and depth. A lot more people than just Marc Benno are responsible for this, but he show himself to be a fine melodist and an interesting singer.

This is a much more musical album than the Asylum Choir. The lyrics are more buried and, plainly, they matter less. But, a good deal more in the way of arranging went into this. There are, of course, a lot of well-arranged rock solo albums these days. The quality and invention of rock studio musicians is higher these days, and Minnows uses some of the best: Jesse Davis, Bobby Womack, Jim Keltner and Carl Radle. But arrangement alone can't sustain an album. Good songs are a necessity. And Minnows has a school of them.

A lot of the work on this record reminded me of Boz Scaggs' first album, a sort of unhassled white gospel approach. "Good Times," which kicks off side two, is like that. Benno uses a female chorus, composed of Rita Coolidge, Clydie King, and Vanetta Fields, who know just when to come in and when to add volume. The guitar work is certainly first-rate, too. "Baby I Love You," is a solid "Spirit In the Sky" type of song. A steady, handclapping rhythm and an almost talking guitar. Rousing.

Benno's voice is not limited by either sound or style. One of the sounds he uses is the "Tulsa" sound, of his former partner Leon. Unfortunately, like Leon's it tends to become irritating. "Baby Like You" is his most Russell-like song in every way. Some may really like it; I don't. But, "Jimmie Lee Keltner," as he is named on this album, is just outstanding, on this cut and, truly, on every cut.

The last cut on side two is Hit material. "Don't Let The Sun Go Down," at 2:55, may have been written with AM radio in mind. It opens with a pounding drum and a superb slide guitar, by Jesse Edwin Davis, and immediately goes into the singing. There are two breaks with an "oooh-oooh" chorus balanced with a fine piece of organ playing, through which Keltner keeps pounding away, that are great. My only objection to the song is that it's too short.

Side one has two high-profile songs. "Stone Cottage" is in the form of urban blues, but the sound is hardly traditional. With an echo, or something, Benno sounds like he's singing at the bottom of a well. Against this there are some guitar trade-offs that made me listen more than once.

"Speak Your Mind," the cut that the local FM rock station keeps playing, is also highly noticeable. It's a slow Boz Scaggs-type of number. It uses an acoustic guitar, a fantastic electric, a well-placed chorus and, even, strings, and I can see why they picked this one. You'd have to work hard to dislike it.

According to my local record wholesaler, Minnows is a dead fish. Billboard hasn't even got it on the top 200. Frankly, record fans, I don't know what's the matter with you. Usually I'm the last one to hear about a record and here I am telling you to go listen to this. Next I'll start taking this stuff seriously.

Well? (RS 102)

ALEC DUBRO