Man, I really could've used this album in high school.
Styx's breakout 1977 album was an album that I should've known about much, much earlier than I found it. I had heard Come Sail Away and Fooling Yourself and a couple other Styx songs on the radio but had never dove deep into anything by them.
Summer 2017 I happened to be listening to XM radio on a long car trip and Styx was on the station to play some hits live and play a song from their new album. They crushed their entire set and told some great stories about great songs and the inspiration for their music. This was the seed planted in my head for my curiosity in this album.
Cut to college, and I'm dating a lovely lady (still) who loves her some classic rock. One day driving in the car, she puts on this album on her iPod, but we have to turn it off because the CD she burned it from was skipping and sounded awful. The little we listened to piqued my interest. Found myself in a local record store and saw a copy for $5, figured why not, and bought it.
I was immediately blown away with the Grand Illusion. Tight compositions with a progressive edge make the music irresistible. But what really caught my ear were the lyrics. While not necessarily a concept album, all of the songs harp on the same subjects other bands have covered before: disillusionment with lifestyles, the treachery of fame, loneliness, and dissatisfaction with life.
However, what is different about this album is how genuine and earnest the vocals sound as compared to previous similar songs. Other iterations of these themes have been cynical, depressing, alienating and downright dull. The Grand Illusion never falls to these levels, instead having a dejected tone that earnestly expresses the discontent with life and newfound fame. The evocation relates the listener to what's being spoken, rather than creating a distinct dividing line between music and listener.
I would've loved this album in high school because I was unsure of who I was in high school. I assume most people felt this way, but I didn't really feel like anything gave me any sort of indication of what I was. I was cynical about others intentions and was convinced my friends really didn't like me, and this messed with me for a while. Slowly but surely, those feelings faded, but the idea persisted. This album would've calmed my weary mind, and reassured me that everything is alright. This mostly refers to the song "Angry Young Man" and how it speaks of deluding oneself into thinking everything is awful, but the entire album is a commentary on everything that can warp your perception of life and society.
Ha! Take it from someone who was there at the time. I did love this album in high school It fed that aspect of growing up perfectly. I don't listen to Styx much anymore, but I'll always have fond memories of this one.
This is Rush's logical conclusion to their synth driven era.
Power Windows is probably Rush's most polarizing album. On one hand, it's a phenomenal continuation of their synth driven work that reaches its artistic peak, and on the other hand it is their furthest departure from their traditional sound (besides for Hold Your Fire, but HYF isn't divisive because HYF isn't that great).
I have always loved Power Windows as an album because despite being a very different sounding Rush record, it's still undeniably a Rush album. It hits all the familiar Rush tropes, complex arrangements, tight interplay between all three members, and lyrics covering everything from greed, a metaphorical marathon, and loneliness in life.This probably the cleanest sounding Rush record, with the production being done by Peter Collins, who gave the album a crisp and deep echoing sound.
I especially love the percussion work of Neil Peart on this album, which is of a different breed than his usual work. His style is more subdued and clinical, as opposed to his technical driven speed on previous albums. The production gives the drums a really unique sound that I haven't heard on any other Rush album. Peart's new style was partially influenced by Stewart Copeland and his unending desire to adjust his craft and improve his ability in any way possible.
Another reason why I love this album is that it has never lost its luster over hundreds of listens. With a lot of albums from the 80s, it seems that the shine wears off after a couple listens and you're able to see the cold, emotionless way the album was prepared for the masses. Despite having a similar production, Power Windows never falters because the music is so honest and heartfelt because Rush pours their heart into everything they do, even their bad albums (boom roasted).
Rolling Stone once claimed that this album was the connection between Yes and the Sex Pistols. I don't know how that's possible, you do you, Rolling Stone.
So grab a listen to a criminally underrated Rush album, with dark themes that will assuredly ruin your day.
I LOVE seeing the inclusion of Power Windows here. It's not my favorite Rush, but it is horribly underappreciated. Great songs well delivered, and as you say, some very nice if less flashy work from Peart.
Robert Fripp, Brian Eno, and David Bowie all together on one album? Sign me up!
Part II of Bowie's retroactively named "Berlin Trilogy", Heroes is probably one of the most complete albums ever created. Bowie's artistic peak (in my opinion) is a methodical study of a musical auteur expanding his horizons to even more incredible depths.
Brian Eno does some of his best work with Tony Visconti by creating an intricately beautiful soundscape, which Bowie effortlessly segues into and adds the charm, zest, and musical extravagance that only he can bring.
There are two distinct styles to this album, each contained to one side. Side one is a more traditional David Bowie sound, and side two is an exploration of ambient krautrock. Each are magnificent in their own right, but their juxtapositional pairing make Heroes an engrossing and wildly diverse album that is endlessly entrancing and exciting.
It took me far too long to get into David Bowie, and I only listened to this album because I read that Robert Fripp and Brian Eno were involved in the recording of the album. One of my dear friends from college (Hi Jodie!) is a huge David Bowie fan, and we would often peruse the record store in pursuit of our favorite records. I distinctly remember one specific perusal where we began discussing that we'd never seen a used copy of Heroes on vinyl. I was particularly obsessed with Heroes at this time, and distinctly remember telling Jodie that I would fight her to the death for a copy. She reciprocated the sentiment. Now, I was lying because A) I couldn't kill anybody, 2) Jodie is way too nice to harm in any way, and D) If I did want to harm her, I would fail because I am a poor fighter and I'm convinced Jodie could beat me up with one arm.
Lengthy anecdotes aside, Heroes is a phenomenal album that deserves to be listened to again and again and again. So take some time from excessive Christmas shopping and listen to this truly beautiful piece of art.
This is an album you play at the end of the night after getting home from the club and want to mellow out and set the mood before doing the horizontal sheet dance with whomever you brought home. I'm not speaking from experience (I'm bad at flirting, sex, and acting appropriately in intimate social situations) but that's what it sounds like to me.
Regardless of my misguided interpretations of how music sets a certain mood, this is a very swell album. It's a very low-key and relaxed musical journey that draws you in with catching beats and keeps you with sweet, droning harmonic pieces. This album is an wondrous listen, and entrances you deeply and soothes every part of your soul.
I don't know much else about Air, except that they're French. Despite my distaste for everything and everyone French (I am a bloody American, after all) I guess that I can get past Air's nationality since their music is so enticing.
So put aside your hatred of France because they can't fend for themselves or avoid being overtaken by an authoritarian in wartime (twice!) and listen to a delightful album that is an easy listen and an easy way to just chill out.
P.S. I don't really hate France/France related items. I just enjoy being an asshole. _________________ Don't get work up over my posts. I'm an idiot.
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And now we head from France to Germany, a country that has never had any social or political issues in the hundreds of years of its existence.
Germany really had a great run of Krautrock in the 70s. Neu!, Harmonia, Eloy, Tangerine Dream, Faust, Can, Cluster, and Nektar just to name my favorites. Kraftwerk, however, was the king of Krautrock. The most popular and enduring group of this unique genre had a phenomenal run throughout the entire 70s with great music being put out to this day.
Trans-Europa Express is Kraftwerk's magnum opus, an album so ubiquitous that it's penetrated artists such as David Bowie, Joy Division, Radiohead, Africa Bambaatta, and Madonna. The melodies and concise phrases are the best parts of this album, with the smooth-tempoed songs gliding along and whisking you away to an electronic soundscape that would make Brian Eno blush.
Europe Endless is my favorite track on the album, as I imagine myself rolling down the European countryside on the train from Munich to the French beachside. The whole album is a lovely electronic album that is endlessly listenable and an album I could probably keep this on a continuous loop.
So take a trip to 70s Europe, where electronic music is blossoming and social-political issues are threatening the world with thermonuclear destruction.
And here lies the final album of Michael Jackson's collaboration with Quincy Jones. An incredible trilogy of albums, Jones is a key part of Michael Jackson's sound, and his technical mastery is on full display on Bad.
Michael Jackson also goes all the way in on Bad, making this a rough and angry album. Off the Wall and Thriller were much more subdued and laid back, which makes Bad a much more jarring album considering this is the same guy that gave us a disco album and a light-hearted landmark pop album.
I've always passively enjoyed Michael Jackson and his music. His singles were always good enough for me, and I never really cared to dive any deeper into his albums, not even Thriller. Yes, Thriller, supposedly one of the greatest albums ever created, and I was too lazy to even listen to it. Like most things in my past, I regret these ignorant thoughts.
To be honest, Off the Wall or Thriller could easily occupy this spot, but Bad has something that I can't pinpoint that just barely puts it over the other two.
This might be one of the funkiest and grooviest album that has ever existed. Hendrix sweet guitar glides miles above us plebeians and creates wondrous music that soothes, entrances, and mystifies. The vocals aren't really anything special here, but the music is some of Hendrix's best work in his far-too short career.
Recorded live on New Year's Day 1970, Band of Gypsys shows Hendrix in a transitional period, coming off of Woodstock and moving towards more Funk and Soul music and away from his earlier sound. This album is highly indicative of the direction he would've taken had he not died such an untimely death, and stands as a testament to his virtuosity on the guitar.
When I bought "Are You Experienced?" at a record store at school, the guy behind the counter (who was in his teens when Hendrix came up) told me about his first time he heard Hendrix, saying how he was fascinated by the "strange sounds" and how enthralled he was to keep listening.
There's not much more that can be said because, after all, it is Hendrix, and if you don't know about him by now, you really need to get yourself some headphones and listen up, bud.
A rare sequel that actually holds up next to the original source.
Part 2 of Eno's Ambient series has Eno pairing up with pianist Harold Budd, with Budd improving over soundscapes created by Eno. This album is essentially a much prettier and less abrasive version of (No Pussyfooting), Eno's collaboration with Robert Fripp a few years earlier.
Regardless of similar structure, these two album could not be farther apart in sound. (No Pussyfooting) has a much more loose and raw feel to it, like Eno just kidnapped Fripp, drugged him with some Quaaludes, set him in a windowless room with a guitar and just said "play music to whatever comes out of those speakers."
Plateaux of Mirror sounds like Harold Budd and Brian Eno went out to a fancy dinner, and the live grand piano player failed to show up for the evening show. Perhaps they got stuck in traffic, maybe their significant other instigated a petty argument that they insisted they needed to have now, despite the obvious fact that the argument could've taken place after the pianist's shift. Regardless of the situation, there is no music, and the mood is decidedly mediocre. Eno, noticing the severe lack of ambience, implores Budd that he should go up and play something. After all, they'd just finished their smoked salmon appetizer, and dinner was still far off. "Brian, I mustn't" Budd protests. "Harold" Eno presses, "You're a majestic player, and these filthy plebeians deserves to know what majesty they're in the presence of." Budd relents with one caveat: "Fine. But you play something too." Eno, without missing a beat, pulls out a pocket MOOG Synthesizer from underneath the table. "You never know" he says with a smirk. Eno and Budd galavant up to the piano, where they begin to play together in a lovely manner. The crowd notices the familiar piano tune, but is perplexed by the synthesizer addition. After some mild confusion, the dinner crowd notices the improved atmosphere, and forget the Budd or Eno exist. Suddenly, a frenzied staff member of the restaurant rushes over. "What are you two doing? You don't work here!" Eno and Budd look at one another puzzled. Eno responds "There was no ambiance, now there is, what's the bother?" "Oh, there's no bother" the staff member replied. "I just wanted to inquiry if you're available to play the rest of the evening. We'll pay for your dinner." Budd and Eno looked at one another: "Deal." "Perfect. I'll just have to find a replacement for tomorrow night as well." "What happened to the bum who was supposed to play here tonight?" Harold asked. "Oh Francis? He was stabbed to death about 45 minutes ago while waiting for the bus. He doesn't work here anymore." The staff member walked away leaving a shocked Budd and Eno. Suddenly they didn't feel like playing music anymore. They quickly stopped and went back to their table to eat their meal that had just been placed down on their table. Brian had roasted duck, which was a little dry but still splendid. Harold had the filet mignon rare, but it came out more medium rare than rare, perhaps a measure to ensure that he wasn't being served undercooked meat. Though it was slightly overcooked, the filet was still phenomenal. They paid their bill and left a moderate tip, as the service wasn't overly spectacular. They both went back to their respective domiciles, and slept with a belly full delicious food. And then they made beautiful music together.
So yeah. That's what I think about The Plateaux of Mirror.
P.S. I'm definitely gonna write a full narrative to the recording of (No Pussyfooting) in the future. This was too much fun. _________________ Don't get work up over my posts. I'm an idiot.
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