big heat, the (1986) - stan ridgway: irs records, IRS-5637

Stan Ridgway initially made his bones scoring films before forming the band Wall of Voodoo, unleashing a weird amalgam of minimalist synth and spaghetti-western sounds.

Wall achieved considerable local success through their 1980 eponymous EP which featured songs like Ring of Fire and Can't Make Love (both of which gained significant airplay on KROQ), and were a fixture on the LA music scene.

Local success eventually turned into a big record deal, which in turn turned into a hit video on MTV (Mexican Radio), and suddenly Stan and the boys were in the Big Time.

Of course, the Big Time lasted only a few years before tensions (both internal and external) split Wall of Voodoo apart, and in 1983 Stan went off on his own.  

The Big Heat is his first full solo album, and while not quite as ominous, paranoid, or sonically lush with synth and drum-machine loop as Wall of Voodoo songs, Stan manages to retain the core of the  Wall of Voodoo sound through a deft use of instrumentation and selective electronics.

Side 1: The Big Heat Pick It Up (and put it in your pocket) Can't Stop The Show Pile Driver Walkin' Home Alone
Side 2: Drive She Said Salesman Twisted Camouflage

The biggest difference between Wall of Voodoo and Stan is the nature of the songs.  While many Wall songs were about the shadowy corners of society, they also relied on an atmosphere that varied from slightly off  to downright creepy.  However, as a solo artist, Stan moved away from mood and more into personality.  His songs are about everyday working slobs, stiffs, and suckers.  The sort of people whose lives can involve questionable ethics and situations.  He sings about strippers (Can't Stop The Show), traveling salesmen (Salesman), a guy taking it on the lam (The Big Heat), some blue-collar drone (Pile Driver), a grunt humping in the 'Nam (Camouflage), and a dimwitted cabbie (Drive She Said).  His songs are about the decidedly un-glamorous side of urban life.  Grimy alleyways and dingy apartments.  Guys eating a couple of chili dogs at a diner after their 10 hour factory shift is done.  Ridgway is like a musical version of Raymond Chandler or David Lynch.

The album cover totally emphasized that fact, with the cover featuring Stan behind a chain-link fence
in some giant refinery, and the back a landscape of a processing plant or something.

 

As an interesting anecdote, I once had the pleasure of meeting Stan at show he did in the 90's, after his band Drywall released Work The Dumb Oracle.  I told him that I really liked how Drive She Said was a story about some everyday dope.  He looked at me and said "Well shoot, that's what all of my songs are about."

And it's true,  Stan doesn't write or sing soaring songs about an idealized love, featuring opulent strings and flowery lyrics.  He sings songs about strippers and uses lyrics like:

The curtains go up / and both lights go on
And Betsy's in her birthday suit / spinnin' her baton
But I think she did it better last year / before her boyfriend broke her arm

Essentially, listening to The Big Heat is kind of like sitting down in a bar somewhere in the City of Industry or Wilmington and just eavesdropping on the conversations of the folks there.  There's no judgment or snobbery - just stuff that happens.  Even though the songs are about the unseen (and sometimes unseemly) people, they have the dignity of authenticity.  And this is one of those criminally under-rated albums.  Unlike so many "hits" from the mid-80s, the songs here don't seem dated or cliche at all. 

Up next: Pretention, with a bit of nonsense

before and after science (1977) - brian eno: editions eg 1981 reissue, ENO-4

Following on the critical and pretentious music snob success of Another Green World, Brian Eno did a bit of a U-turn away from the intentionally odd experimentation of minimalist ambient music to go back to his intentionally odd experimentation of his Roxy Music pop roots with Before and After Science.

That's not to say Eno was done with the intrigues of using electronics to shape sound.  Far from it.  But where Another Green World was an almost immersive experience in the universe of music re-fabricated by capacitors and resistors, Before and After Science seems to me to be an attempt to more fully infuse ambient and pop.  One can almost picture two Brian Enos colliding together, with the first exclaiming "You got your pop in my ambient!" while the second Eno shouts back, "Yeah, well you got your ambient in my pop!" before they both take a listen and declare that it sounds good.

Side 1: No One Receiving Backwater Kurt's Rejoinder Energy Fools the Magician King's Lead Hat
Side 2: Here He Comes Julie With ... By This River Through Hollow Lands (for Harold Budd) Spider and I

Now, for all it's artsnobbling, I've always thought that Before and After Science is just a flat out fun album.  Yeah, there's plenty in it about for the pointy-heads and elitists to glom on to in order to prove their sophistication, and Brian Eno is one of those artists who marks the stark delineation between Us and Them in terms of musical cognizance, but there's also plenty for us less erudite slobs to enjoy.  Particularly side 1, which has the catchy and playful Backwater and King's Lead Hat (with it's totally awesome Fripp guitar), along with the more hefty but no less entertaining No One Receiving and Energy Fools the Magician.

Interesting side note: my wife mis-heard "King's Lead Hat" as "Insect Head", which I think is possibly the better way to go, given such bizzare lyrics as:

The lacquer crackles (black tar) the engines roar / A ship was turning broadside to the shore
Splish splash I was raking in the cash / The biology of purpose keeps my nose above the surface

 and:

 I count my fingers (digit counter) as night falls / And draw bananas on the bathroom walls
The killer cycles (humdrum) the killer hertz / The passage of my life is measured out in shirts

Yeah, Insect Head would be perfectly cromulent as the title.  However, some folks have interpreted

the song to be about the Talking Heads (from which Kings Lead Hat is an anagram), given how enamored Eno was with them, and how he produced several of their albums. But considering that this album came out before the Heads released their debut album, 77, that probably isn't true.

In any case, I've always believed that Before and After Science would be a great album to play while you kick back and burn one.  The rhythms and oscillatingly droning sounds would really lubricate the time-distortion from the icky-sticky.

Up next: Songs about the everyday slob

beatles, the (1968) - the beatles: capitol records 1978 reissue, SEBX-11841

By 1968 the Beatles were a band that were suffering from the joint centrifugal forces of success and the 60's, and both John and Paul publicly noted that the recording sessions for the white album marked the start of the band's break-up.

There were a lot of problems.  Ringo, apparently fed up with it all, had actually quit the band for a couple of weeks, causing the other three to take over drumming on songs like Back in the USSR and Dear Prudence.  John brought Yoko into the studio during some recording, breaking a rule the boys had about keeping the studio skirt-free.  And Paul and John stopped collaborating on songs and started to become openly hostile, at one point recording in separate studios.  As John described the album, "Every track is [a solo song]; there isn't any 'Beatle' music on it. [It's] John and the band, Paul and the band, George and the band ..."

By any measure, by 1968 the Beatles were a hot mess, and in many ways their eponymous album reflects that.

Side 1: Back in the USSR Dear Prudence Glass Onion Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da Wild Honey Pie The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill While My Guitar Gently Weeps Happiness is a Warm Gun
Side 2: Martha, My Dear I'm So Tired Blackbird Piggies Rocky Raccoon Don't Pass Me By Why Don't We Do It In The Road I Will Julia
Side 3: Birthday Yer Blues Mother Nature's Son Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me And My Monkey Sexy Sadie Helter Skelter Long, Long, Long
Side 4: Revolution 1 Honey Pie Savoy Truffle Cry, Baby, Cry Revolution 9 Good Night

Before they recorded The Beatles, the boys had gone through some weird travels.  George found Ravi Shankar and got into the sitar, John found Yoko, the boys found acid, and after Brian Epstein died they found the false prophecy and phony spiritualism of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

That's some heavy dope.

The result of all this internal searching and turmoil was a fractured, disjointed, and musically uneven album  suffering from trying to be too much in one package.  It tries to pay homage to British music's skiffle ancestry (Don't Pass Me By), recollect their early pop days (Back in the USSR, Birthday), be self-referential (Glass Onion), acknowledge their acidic growth and development (Dear Prudence), give a nod to rock's American heritage (Yer Blues, Rocky Raccoon), look forward to a harder, more cutting and socially relevant musical emergence (Helter Skelter, Revolution 1), and anticipate the experimental weirdness of the early 70's (Revolution 9).

But even though this is a flawed album filled with tension, the "Fab Four" could still write the hell out of some songs. Plus, the 10-year anniversary re-release were pure white vinyl.  WHITE RECORDS?!?  Mind = Blown. I mean, seriously, how cool is white vinyl?   Sure, today colored vinyl is de rigueur for the hipsters discovering LPs, but back in the day it was an event.

Sure some of the tracks are justifiably long-forgotten saccharine pabulum (like I Will), but for every piece of drivel like Don't Pass Me By, there is an epic rock monument like Helter Skelter or While My Guitar Gently Weeps (where George got a little six-string help from his friend Eric Clapton).

One of the things about The Beatles that stands out relates back to the quote by Lennon regarding how there isn't (according to his words) any "Beatle" music on it - just a collection of solo work. Aside from making the album ironically named, the divergence between the musical directions of Lennon and McCartney is quite apparent. Lennon's songs are overall the more bluesy, gritty, and rocky songs, such as Dear Prudence, Glass Onion, Warm Gun, Yer Blues, Me & My Monkey, and Revolution (both numbers) and give a great idea of the sort of stuff he would do with Elephant's Memory and The Plastic Ono Band; while Paul tended for the more melodic and accessible songs, like Ob-La-Di, Martha My Dear, Blackbird, and Mother Nature's Son - a style he would continue with Wings.

Leaving aside the stylistic divergence between the Lennon and McCartney songs (the former's being more experimental and bitter, while the latter's tend to be more melodic and softer) the album also is heavily influenced by the boys' time spent on Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's ashram, and their eventual dissolution with the whole scene.  Many of the songs are direct slams against the false prophet (i.e. Sexy Sadie) and the sort of spiritual tourists who bought the snake oil thinking they could find enlightenment without sacrificing their corrupt ways (Bungalow Bill).

This was also the first album in which the lads were free to express political opinion, something Brian Epstein had refused them to do, fearing fallout. Epstein may have been prescient in a way, because even though songs like Revolution 1 were clearly pacifist and leftist in nature, they were misinterpreted by both the radical left (who felt that Revolution was an anthem calling for a violent overthrow of oppressive governments), and by the unbalanced (both Helter Skelter and Piggies were cited by the Manson Mutants as justification for their murder spree).

In the end, despite the unevenness of the album, the tension of the band, or the misunderstood politics, The Beatles does stand as a significant effort - even if it does signal the eventual end of the group and foreshadows their future. Besides, like I said earlier, the albums are made of white vinyl.

Up next: Can ambience and pop coexist?

at carnegie hall (1959) - harry belafonte: rca records, LSO-6006

I originally bought this album back in 1989 after the movie Beetlejuice, when Belafonte suddenly enjoyed a resurgence in kitschy appeal.  I had known about him from before (songs like Day O and Matilda), but only in passing as one of those previous generation crooners who seemed to specialize in non-threatening, slightly tropical music - sort of like Don Ho.  One of those square singers that somehow managed to break out and grab a hook into the younger crowd by occupying a groovy niche.  Besides, anyone associated with beaches, palm trees and an island lifestyle had to be cool.

The thing is, as I was reminded by listening to this album again,  despite being a favorite of the squares, Belafonte was and is absolutely not non-threatening.  He threatens the hell out of things.  The calmness and soothing nature of his music is completely incongruous with his social and political message and it's clear that Belafonte is unafraid to speak his mind and accuse the system (which he continues to do today).  And when one considers that this album was recorded and released during the paranoia and red-baiting of the Eisenhower-Nixon years, it isn't much of a stretch to call him a hardcore revolutionary.

Anyway, I only listened to this album a couple of times before I stored it away for about 25 years, and when you consider that I've also had that same 25 years go by, dusting this off and putting it on the turntable was essentially like listening to it for the very first time.  

Side 1: Intro / Darlin' Cora Sylvie Cotton Fields John Henry Take My Mother Home
Side 2: The Marching Saints Day O Jamaica Farewell Man Piaba All My Trials
Side 3: Mama Look A Boo Boo Come Back Liza Man Smart (Woman Smarter) Hava Nageela Danny Boy Merci Bon Dieu
Side 4: Cu Cu Ru Cu Cu Paloma Shenandoah Matilda

Woah - a live double album. So songs, much Belafonte!

But more than that, this could conceivably be considered a "concept" album because as described in the gatefold liner notes, the concert at which this was recorded was constructed by Belafonte to be an act in three parts:

1. Moods of the American Negro (Darlin' Cora through The Marching Saints)
2. In the Caribbean (Day O through Man Smart)
3. Round the World (Hava Nageela through Matilda)

See a pattern?  I didn't when I first got this album - but then again I was young and unaware back then.  I just figured this was an innocent collection of songs meant to please a tuxedo-wearing, martini-sipping audience.

Boy, was I wrong. This is a subversive act.

As it turns out, Belafonte put in considerable depth and commentary on this album, using music to explore ethnic, economic, and cultural oppression and resistance.  Pretty heady stuff, if you think about it.

Beginning the concert with songs describing the Moods of the American Negro is a bold move, and immediately challenges the listener to confront the societal and personal racism in the United States.  It's clear that the American Negro is in a bad mood when the opening song isn't something safe, like Ol' Man River, but Darlin' Cora, with scathing lyrics like:

I ain't a man to be played with / I ain't nobody's toy
Been working for my pay for a long, long time / How come he still calls me boy 
 
Well I'd rather drink muddy water / And sleep in a hollowed out log
Than to hang around in this old town / And be treated like a dirty dog 
 
Well I whopped that man darlin' Cora / And he fell down where he stood
Don't know if I was wrong darlin' Cora / But Lord it sure felt good

Can you dig that?

Act II turns from racism to the more hidden burden of economic oppression found In the Caribbean, and though the songs are much lighter in musical style, they deal with people working and never getting ahead.  Despite their cheery facade, songs like Day O, and Jamaica Farewell carry some seriously bad vibes.

Things lighten up with Man Piaba, Mama Look A Boo Boo, and Man Smart, but soon go back to form with Act III, bringing songs of oppression from Round the World.  It's not surprising that the songs come from the Irish (Danny Boy), Jews (Hava Nageela), and Haiti (Merci Bon Dieu) - cultures who've suffered some intense historic oppression.

After a fresh listen, I've come to appreciate this album quite a bit more than I ever did, if for no other reason than simply for the huevos Belafonte needed in order to do it.  Let's face it. it takes some sand to have the audacity to throw racism and oppression into the face of 1959 America and to force an audience of entitled white folks to confront their culpability in it. But even with that and Harry's silky voice, ultimately this is an album that probably will remain among my most seldom and contextually listened.  The truth is, kitsch, talent, and agitation aside, I just don't dig crooner music all that much.  But Harry?  Yeah, I dig him. That dude is straight OG.

Up next: We begin the "B"s with an album signalling the start of the biggest end in music

armed forces (1979) - elvis costello & the attractions: radar records, RAD-14

Elvis Costello (nee Declan Patrick McManus) has always been a tough monkey to pigeon-hole.  On the one hand he's punk, but he most definitely is not.  He's not quite new wave, nor new romantic - though he has dabbled.  His albums have spanned pop, punk, ska, new wave, blues, motown, country, bluegrass, symphonic, lounge ... and most everything in between.  In fact, about the only musical styles you can't attribute to Costello is gospel, prog, and mariachi.

Armed Forces is Elvis' third album, and introduced The Attractions as his official off-and-on again (in different variations) band, with Steve Nieve on keyboards, Pete Thomas on drums, and Bruce Thomas on bass.  The backing trio proved to be quite adept at keeping up with Elvis' ever impatient musical tastes, both over the course of a couple of decades and within this album.

Side 1: Adcicents Will Happen Senior Service Oliver's Army Big Boys Green Shirt Party Girl
Side 2: Goon Squad Busy Bodies Sunday's Best Moods for Moderns Chemistry Class Two Little Hitlers

Many of the songs on Armed Forces (such as Big Boys) have a distinct motown R&B vibe to them, provided by Nieve's retro organ and Bruce Thomas' slightly funked bass. Once again, however, the music was supported by lyrics with a bite. For example, Oliver's Army, a particularly pointed song referencing the legacy of Oliver Cromwell (who established the first organized citizen army), the British presence around the world, and the callous attitude of military thought toward human life includes such tasty bits as:

Only takes one itchy trigger
One more widow
One less white nigger

Ouch!

Sitting down to listen to an album that I've probably heard hundreds of times since I first got it way back in 1979, I was pleasantly surprised  to find that it still sounds fresh and relevant. There's no weird time-warping with the listen.  Now that's impressive.

And speaking of impressive ... how about this cover!  It almost defies description.  It's a single piece of cardboard that one can fold into an envelope in which the record rests.  But here's the cool part - there are dozens of permutations of folding.  You have the option of choosing either the elephants or the Jackson Pollack-like painting as the front cover, and the flaps can be folded in a variety of ways to show part or all of the tank patrol, the navy guys, sergeant stripes, etc etc.

Sadly, this cover was only available with the UK Radar Records release (RAD-14), not the Columbia Records release here in the US (JC-35709), which was a plain, non-gate jacket with the painting cover - although the US release did include (What's So Funny About) Peace, Love, & Understanding at the end of side 2.  I can only imagine that this was due to Elvis' relative low popularity in America, and the label just didn't want to shell out the extra money. 

Adding to the weirdness is the record sleeve, which show chips bearing various color names despite all being identical (a commentary on crass consumerism); photos of the lads before a show and afterwards; bearing the heading "Our Place ..." and "... Or Yours"; with the caption "Emotional Fascism" on the blue.

There's clearly a lot going on here in the packaging.

But like those late-night Ronco commercials, that's not all.  The Radar Records release also had a 7" 45 bonus record, with three songs (Watching the Detectives, Adcicents Will Happen, and Alison) recorded from a show at Hollywood High.

Emotional fascism, indeed.

Up next: Subversive crooning

argybargy (1980) - squeeze: a&m records, SP-4802

Rock went through a bit of an overhaul in the late-70's and early-80's, with punk emerging as a reaction to bloated mega bands playing corporate-approved music in 100,000 seat stadiums.  Grandiose production and carefully calculated song structure was replaced by raw, bare-bones recordings in which minor mistakes were almost a point of pride and proof that the music was real.  Groups like ELO and Styx were shoved aside for The Ramones and The Clash, and the pretense & complexity of glam and prog made way for the simplicity of a guitar, a bass, and drums.

And it was good. See, by the late 70's the glut of disco and marketing-driven bands made music suck so much that even artists like Zep or Springsteen or Rush couldn't cure it by themselves.  The situation was ripe for a revolution, and punk was just the enema the musical colon needed to rid itself of the constipation of suck rock. A by-product of punk's cleansing was that it opened an opportunity for quality power-pop to return.

Squeeze was one of the first bands to reclaim the territory once held by bands like The Kinks, The Beach Boys, and The Beatles (remember, before they found Ravi Shankar, the Beatles were essentially a pop band), and they finally found widespread success in 1980 with their third album, Argybargy.

Side 1: Pulling Mussels (from the shell) Another Nail In My Heart Separate Beds Misadventure I Think I'm Go Go
Side 2 If I didn't Love You Farfisa Beat Here Comes That Feeling Vicky Verky Wrong Side Of The Moon There At The Top

Although Squeeze is best known in America for their overly lachrymose, saccharine ballads, at heart they are a very solid pop band.  My first exposure to them was via their song Cool for Cats (from their 1979 album of the same name), but it wasn't until singer Glenn Tilbrook guest-vocaled with Elvis Costello on From A Whisper to a Scream that I took notice.

None of the songs on Argybargy deviate much from the standard pop recipe of boy meets girl, boy and girl go off to snog, etc. Nor do they stray from the tried and true formula of very catchy hooks and easy-to-sing-along-with choruses. And, in fact, they do both very well, such as in Pulling Mussels (From The Shell), a happy little ditty about some bloke who manages to score a little slap-and-tickle with a sweet young honey during a summer holiday:

But behind the chalet, my holiday's complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell

Pulling mussels indeed (nudge-nudge)!  Get it?  "Oi, where yiz been, mate?" "I've been off pulling mussels from the shell wi' some bird!" "That's a fair cop, guv."   Those Brits and their wordplay.

There are several other strong songs on the album as well, like Misadventure, Vicky Verky, and Wrong Side Of The Moon, with only the somewhat brooding I Think I'm Go Go and  Here Comes That Feeling seemingly out of place.

The only drawback to the album is the jacket.  Not only is it not a gatefold (something that becomes more and more common as the 70's turned into the 80's and moved toward the dawn of CD), but the artwork seems an amateurish afterthought.  The front cover has the standard 80's design hallmarks of primary colors and geometric patterns, playing on the trite concept of the band bursting through the cover, while the back features each of the band members in a whimsical pose, taking their own photos. Wheeee!

The only compelling part of the jacket is noticing just how large drummer Gilson Lavis' head is. I mean, it's like he's got a watermelon up there.

Up next: Cynicism with a side order of "Emotional Facism"

aqualung (1971) - jethro tull: rerpise records, MS-2035

Back when I was a musical neophyte in the 9th grade, there were three albums you had to have in order to be taken seriously:
   1. Dark Side of the Moon
   2. Led Zeppelin IV (aka "zoso")
   3. Aqualung

That was the holy trinity.  Of course, you would be judged by the other albums in your stack, but without those three you'd be immediately dismissed as a cretin - even if you also had some Velvet Underground, Bowie, Ramones, and Sex Pistols.

Of those three, my favorite always was, and remains, Aqualung.  Both for it's musical style and for the sheer audacity behind the presumption Ian Anderson & co had in order to make it.

Despite the denial by Tull frontman, Ian Anderson, most people consider Aqualung to be a "concept" album.  The two sides tell related stories of depravity and perversion, side one (sub-titled "Aqualung") is about the corporeal while side two (sub-titled "My God") deals with the ethereal. Together the two sides paint a rather cynical picture of the nature of morality, compassion, and what it means to be a good christian (spoiler alert: christianity and religion don't come off looking too good).

Side 1 (Aqualung): Aqualung Cross-Eyed Mary Cheap Day Return Mother Goose Wond'ring Aloud Up To Me
Side 2 (My God): My God Hymn 43 Slipstream Locomotive Breath Wind-Up

The cover and gatefold tells the sordid nature of both the character and message of the album before the record is removed from the sleeve.  The front features an icky, decrepit man (the character Aqualung) sneering menacingly while hiding something in his grubby coat. His face bears an unpleasant expression, and his posture hints at bad news.  Opening the gatefold reveals a debauched, drunken scene in which other seedy men join our hero to revel in drink, song, and their own (probably aromatic) company.

Yeah, these boys are definitely having quite a time indulging themselves in the age-old comfort of booze. This is clearly not the weekly meeting of the Christian Temperance League, though it likely is a meeting of christians.

The back closes the story by showing Aqualung sitting in a gutter, still wearing the artificial cheer of alcohol, while a dog appears to be lapping up his vomit.

Good times ...  Good times ...

No question, this is one of the all-time great album covers, and interestingly enough, the story is that it was inspired (as were many of the songs) by some photos of homeless people taken by Ian Anderson's wife.

As powerful and impressive as the cover is, the songs are even more so.  Consider that side one of the album opens with these lines:

Sitting on a park bench / eying little girls with bad intent
snot is running down his nose / greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes
Aqualung
Drying in the cold sun / watching while the frilly panties run

Yeah, this is one icky guy.  But he's not without some sympathy, as he's later described in the song:

Sun streaking cold / an old man wandering lonely 
Taking time / the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad / as he bends to pick a dog-end 
he goes down to the bog / and warms his feet.

As indicated by a delightful summary of the idea of religion on the back cover, side two is an indictment of the hypocrisy, mendacity, and exploitive nature of religious construct and practice, with such delicious and unequivocal lyrics as: "People, what have you done / locked Him in His golden cage / Made Him bend to your religion / Him resurrected from the grave" (My God) and "If Jesus saves, well, He'd better save Himself / from the gory glory seekers who use His name in death" (Hymn 43).

Eventually the hollow nature and false hope of religion are exposed in Locomotive Breath, wherein some poor slob whose life has collapsed finds himself hurtling uncontrollably toward inevitable suicide ("the train it won't stop going / no way to slow down") tries a last-ditch effort to save himself, only to discover that the idea of salvation through the bible is a mugs' game:

He picks up Gideon's Bible / open at page one 
God stole the handle / and the train won't stop going / no way to slow down

Finally, the last song, Wind Up, is a scathing summation of a young lad's dawning awareness of just how fake it all is.

In essence, Aqualung - that soiled pederast - is at once both a victim and manifestation of organized religion (or, organized religion is Aqualung made liturgical, take your pick). The predatory, abusive, and destructive things Aqualung would do to a young girl is the same as what religion does to people.  And it isn't pretty.

Up next: Good fun 80's power-pop

another green world (1975) - brian eno: editions eg 1982 reissue, ENO-3

Brian Eno is one of those musicians who is revered by other musicians, but is widely unknown among regular slobs buying records because when his music came out it was just too weird for the squares.

Another Green World is a perfect example.  See, people think of the 90's as the decade when electronica was born but it wasn't.  It wasn't even the 80's with the explosion of synth bands (like Flock of Seagulls or Depeche Mode).  Electronica was born in the 70's with guys like Eno trying to figure out what cool things they could do with sound.  Okay, technically it started in the late 60's when Robert Moog created the synthesizer and Zappa was screwing around with overdubbing and tape looping, but that's splitting hairs.  In the mid-70's guys like Eno were out on the fringe playing with the sonic play-doh of electronics, eventually bringing it to guys like David Bowie (Low and Heroes in 1977) and Peter Gabriel (the "melt face" album in 1980).

Featuring guest musicians like Robert Fripp, John Cale, and Phil Collins (for all his pop songs, the dude was a pretty amazing drummer), Another Green World clearly has prog/experimental bona fides.  It's also the first of Eno's solo "ambient music" albums, though his collaboration with Fripp on No Pussyfooting could conceivably called his first effort with "ambient" music.  Green World also marked a move away from the more rock-like roots of Roxy Music and his initial solo works of Here Come the Warm Jets and Taking Tiger Mountain (1974), to a more minimalist and contemplative place. 

Side 1: Sky Saw Over Fire Island St. Elmo's Fire In Dark Trees The Big Ship I'll Come Running Another Green World
Side 2: Sombre Reptiles Little Fishes Golden Hours Becalmed Zawinul / Lava Everything Merges With The Night Spirits Drifting

The thing about Eno's "ambient" music is that even though it's minimalist, it isn't simple.  There's a lot going on in there, from some odd percussion patterns to strangely oscillating melody.  Songs like Sky Saw or In Dark Trees blend pseudo-primitive drumming with futuristic tonal elements to create a sort of paranoid quality, while other songs like St. Elmo's Fire or I'll Come Running are more accessible, and would be right in place on Warm Jets or Tiger Mountain.

And even though the album as a whole can rightly be thought a self-indulgent exercise in pretension and intellectual musical snobbery, there are some silly bits to it.  The entire song I'll Come Running is an ode to some guy so obsessed with a gal he's offering to be her shoe-tying slave, and the liner notes includes descriptions like "unnatural sounds" on Sombre Reptiles, and "uncertain piano" and "spasmodic percussion" on Golden Hours.

Green World stands on it's own as a pretty remarkable album.  When one tacks on how ahead of the curve it was, it becomes even more impressive.  And when one considers its offspring (Bowie's Heroes, Low, and Scary Monsters; Gabriel's "melt face" and Security), its iconic status makes a lot more sense.

Up next: One of the most unsavory characters in rock history

aja (1977) - steely dan: abc records, AA-1006

There are some musical styles that simply define the decade in which they emerged.  Doo-wop is inseparable from the 50's.  Surf guitar is one-hundred percent 60's.  And soft pseudo-jazz fusion is utterly 70's.

Steely Dan was like Santana without huevos.  A band that not only embraced their era, but probably did as much to make 70's jazz-rock ripe for satire as anyone else.  A couple of  musically talented white dudes who felt their true nature was a darker shade of pale, and who thought they could fuse jazz, funk, latin, r&b, and rock - hoping that they could make something transcendent - even though they were probably better suited to Montavani or Bacharach.  Aja was their claim to fame, and wildly embraced by white dudes trying desperately to capture some soul.

Aja had all the markings of being a staple in late-70's album collections.  It was exactly the sound for when you got lucky at the singles bar and brought a lady home.  It was mood music with a capital "O".  A soft, non-threatening groove, with just a hint of seduction.  An easy-listening mood ring. Yeah, baby.

Side A: Black Cow Aja Deacon Blues
Side B: Peg Home At Last I Got The News Josie

The songs are all pretty safe.  Easy listening and quite memorable. All the cuts on side one are good - with Deacon Blues being perhaps the strongest of the lot - and both Peg and Josie on side two stick with you, even if lyrics like these from Peg are incomprehensibly ridiculous:

"when the shutter falls
you'll see it all
in 3-D
it's your favorite foreign movie"

What really hit me this time around, however, is that these songs are a perfect example of how when you try to do too many things at once - in this case throwing jazz, r&b, rock, and some funk beats into a blender - you end up with something where the total is far less than the sum of the parts.

The real impact is the album cover.  The incredible glossy black only broken by a long, thin red & white ribbon and just the hint of a woman's face in profile breaking through the darkness.  I've always found it to have the same sort of magnetic mystery about it as the Mona Lisa, and no matter how many times I have held the album, I always end up just staring at the cover, wondering if I will see something new. Unfortunately, the gatefold ruins the sublime quality of the cover due to some verbose text telling you all about the songs to which you're listening, as well as giving a bit of puff to the band.  Bleh.

But as memorable as the songs are, ultimately, Aja is a time-capsule of the part of the 70's I always associated with dudes with shirts open to their navels, wearing gold chains and astrological pendants,  ordering tequila sunrises in bars hoping to score.  Today, this seems more appropriate of background music in a dentist's waiting room than a soundtrack to some 70's lovin.

Up next: An immersion in ambience