Oh, yes we're all in danger.

The atmosphere here

Is getting stranger and stranger...

Two cuts on the album are devoted to updating traditional music. Although the band plays the medley on side one cleanly, and although the music sounds impressive, it is not on a par with the rest of the album. The transitions between pieces in the medley are not smooth, and the thematic connections are not clear enough to lend the the medley a sense of unity. The medley on side two, however, is a strong, well-planned cut with good transitions throughout. While the drums and electric bass prevent it from merely imitating Irish traditional music, the piece remains true to the feel of the Gaelic sound.

IN A DIFFERENT VEIN, Bromberg creates a hybrid of dixie-land and rock around Gus Cannon's "Stealin'," producing a sound interesting enough to justify its appearence as yet another version of that frequently recorded rag. On this cut, as throughout the album, Bromberg holds himself back, never displaying the sheer virtuousity he has shown himself to be capable of. At the start of the song, for example, he offers only a few bars of tasty rag picking before drowning the guitar out in a melange of horns, mandolin, bass and drums. Although the absence of flash is somewhat disappointing, Bromberg's restraint makes for a well-integrated, solid sound.

A record on which eclecticism is the catchword and "Reckless Abandon" the title involves more risks than a straight forward rock LP. Surprisingly, only "Child's Song," a piece about a young man leaving home to discover himself, falls completely flat. When Tom Rush recorded this song, he understated the lyrics, using only a guitar to accompany his soft, husky voice. Bromberg makes the mistake of injecting too much pathos in an already overly sentimental song, allowing a string section to drip, or rather, gush, while he croons in what sounds like a hostile Leo Kottke imitation:

There ain't no use in shedding no more tears, Ma.

No use shouting at me, Pa.

I can't live no longer with your fears, Ma.

I love you, but that doesn't help at all.

In an album as solidly creative as Reckless Abandon, Bromberg earns the right for one major lemon. From its lyrics to the muddy, lower-register background harmonies, "Child's Song" is clearly the one.

The high point of the album, a superfunky update of a thirties song called "Beware, Brother Beware," more than compensates, however. The lyrics, a warning to single men to be on the look-out for those women who are out to turn them into husbands, is a perfect vehicle for Bromberg's city-slick, street-wise voice. With a tight horn section and the funkiest of rhythm sections behind him, he warns the poor unsuspecting male:

If she saves her dough, and won't go to a show,

Beware, Brother beware!

If she's easy to kiss, and never resists,