I Used to be

In the late '80s and early '90s, Lenny Kravitz and Living Colour accomplished something that Gail Ann Dorsey was unable to accomplish: they demonstrated that an African-American artist could, in fact, become a superstar with an R&B-influenced approach to alternative rock.

In the face of the legend that he once was, it's very fashionable to dismiss Eric Burdon's '70s-and-later output as little more than an afterthought – which may or may not be true. But from the moment 1988's I Used to Be an Animal kicks into groove, it's clear that Burdon has spent the last few years doing more than kicking over old traces…

In the face of the legend that he once was, it's very fashionable to dismiss Eric Burdon's '70s-and-later output as little more than an afterthought – which may or may not be true. But from the moment 1988's I Used to Be an Animal kicks into groove, it's clear that Burdon has spent the last few years doing more than kicking over old traces. The putative soundtrack to the singer's recently published autobiography, I Used to Be an Animal chases that band's career through its own chops and changes, pitfalls and high points, but without ever actually looking back. Situations and ambitions are recalled, to be sure. But the ice-sharp production and soaring, anthemic attack merges memory with modernity, to produce an album that still turns unsuspecting heads around – "what is that you're playing?" The sharpest shock, of course, is the opening title track, a brittle slice of late-'80s funk rap that manages to blend themes as diverse as the Who's "Baba O'Riley," Disco Tex's "Get Dancing," and Falco's "Das Kommissar," and still comes up sassy and fresh.