Nick Lowe - "Labour of Lust" (1979)

As soon as the familiar drum rhythm to "Cruel to be Kind" played through my speakers, I knew this would be an album that I would keep. Sometimes it's nice not have to agonize over whether I should keep an album or not. Labour of Lust, Lowe's second album, primarily consists of three-minute pop songs with a tinge of 'pub rock,' which I suppose gets that designation because Lowe is British. If this album is a fair representation of pub rock, then I would definitely say that I prefer it to "bar rock," the American redneck equivalent. For eleven songs, Lowe keeps the hooks coming, and the production is immaculate. Unfortunately, I don't have his debut, Jesus of Cool, on vinyl, because I hear that one is even better. 

Van Morrison - "No Guru No Method No Teacher" (1986)

I still am not entirely sure if I like this record or not. On the plus side, considering the long, sordid history of artists who got their start in the 60s succumbing to 80s production trends, it was pleasant to turn the record on and not hear any synthesizers or drum machines. Instead, the music is a tasteful, classy mix of folk, Celtic, and rock music, complementing Van Morrison's impressive vocals and lyrics. Indeed, I am not extremely familiar with Morrison's discography, but based on what I have heard and read, the sound of this album is very similar to his work at his artistic peak, and I have to credit the man for staying true to his principles in the dark times of 1986.

But! (And you knew there was a but.) This record may also be the least melodic record I have ever heard. Every single song, without fail, is delivered in a rambling, hookless style that sounds as if the vocal notes were improvised on the spot. I am a lover of vocal melody first and foremost, so despite all the plusses of this album, I largely found it very boring to actually listen to. Morrison's backing band does provide instrumental hooks, but their task is to provide background accompaniment, not to be the central focus. One advantage that Van does have over most of his singer-songwriter ilk is that he is a legitimately great singer, with a powerful, belting voice, but most of the songs here range over five minutes in length, while saying all that they need to say in the first 90 seconds.

Ultimately, there were two main factors that made me decide to keep this record. One is that given the high level of artistic integrity that is apparent on the record, it is quite possible that it is one of those albums that simply can't be fully appreciated on first listen, especially for someone not familiar with Morrison's albums. The other is that although I am rarely moved by above-average lyrics, there are exceptions where the lyrics are so good that I can't help but be drawn in, regardless of the quality of the music. The centerpiece track of this album, "In the Garden," is one of those examples. As Van growls "no guru, no method, no teacher" and makes an excellent track based solely on atmosphere and dynamics, I begin to believe that this amelodic approach can work.  And indeed, the greatness of "In the Garden" has a lot to do with hearing the lyrics sung (especially since I could only digest such an openly religious song because of the passionate vocals). In conclusion, I've convinced myself over the course of this rambling review that this may be an even better album than I gave it credit for.

Duke Ellington - "The Brunswick Sessions Vol. 2" (1932-35)

This is another one of those random jazz records I own that I couldn't even find one decent review of. So it seems I will have to fall back on my own opinions yet again! Predictably, my opinion is that this is excellent jazz music. It's Duke Ellington, after all. With a full band behind him, he runs through 15 short songs over two sides, in a diversity of styles, the one consistency being that nearly everything is good. If I had to criticize (and I do), I would say that the tracks with vocals are less stirring than the instrumentals, and perhaps more importantly, this was a very early jazz record, so it does sound somewhat dated today in the way that (in my opinion) 'modern' jazz of the 50s and 60s does not. This is only relevant by way of comparison to Ellington's later work, with which I am not thoroughly familiar, but have heard enough of to confidently say that he did later surpass what he accomplished here. Thumbs up all around.

Elton John - "Breaking Hearts" (1984)

Believe it or not, Sir Elton still did possess some of his mojo in 1984. He was no longer innovating, and the 80s production values feel stifling compared to his 70s work, but Breaking Hearts is overall a decent album. For a lot of the record, I wasn't sure if it would wind up being one that I would keep. Although opening track "Restless" has a catchy riff and chorus, it is also terribly generic. Some of the lyrics are embarrassing and sexist (see "Slow Down Georgie (She's Poison)" with its admonitions to stay away from divorcees) and a couple songs come off flat. But ultimately, the consistency of the record won out on me, with the last three tracks ("Burning Buildings," "Did He Shoot Her?" and "Sad Songs (Say So Much") being arguably the best on the album, and reminding of Elton's ability to thrive with both ballads and rock songs. Setting the flaws aside, most of the material is good, and I can't really quibble with that.

Rickie Lee Jones - "Rickie Lee Jones" (1979)

The second of three RLJ albums that I own, I found this one easier to get into than I did Pirates. I don't know if that means it's more accessible or I am just becoming more accustomed to Jones' style regardless, but generally I found this to be a good one all the way through. I definitely underestimated Jones, as there is now no doubt in my mind that she has a unique style and vision. Admittedly, that style and vision is somewhat removed from my own intuition as to what great music should sound like. Her enigmatic vocal delivery and intelligent working-class oriented lyrics make her an inscrutable Springsteen or perhaps more accurately, a less approachable Joni Mitchell. But whatever the appropriate comparison, I found myself stirred by several songs here, and "The Last Chance Texaco" is flat-out great from an atmospheric perspective. I also found myself annoyed at times, so I can't give a glowing recommendation. But a good one, definitely.

Kansas - "Point of Know Return" (1977)

Now I like "Carry On My Wayward Son" as much as the next guy, but it doesn't change the fact that Kansas sucks. I went into this album with expectations based on George Starostin's reviews of the group, and these expectations were almost perfectly met. Kansas's schtick is basically a weird hybrid of bluesy bar-rock (i.e., the more generic rock songs on classic rock radio) and elements stolen from superior British prog-rock bands (Yes, Genesis, ELP). Most of the time, this is a bad, bad combination, culminating in the awful 7-minute "Closet Chronicles" that closes the first side with banal vocals and several minutes of frenetic organ soloing. I don't even like ELP's keyboard wanking, so why would I like this?

Still, Point of Know Return is not a totally horrible album. The title track is one that I have heard many times before on the radio without actually realizing who it was. It's still dorky, but actually not a bad synthesis of straight-ahead classic rock and prog, since it keeps things relatively simple and only uses the keyboards as accompaniment. So I guess it is possible for their sound to work, but every time they range out and get more progressive, the results are almost invariably bad, since the longer songs lack any real complexity.

Oh yeah, this album does have classic rock staple "Dust in the Wind" on it. "Dust in the Wind," being an acoustic ballad with strings, isn't representative of the sound of the rest of the album whatsoever. But it does still manage to epitomize Kansas. For about 90 seconds, I am able to find the song enjoyable, as the vocal melody moves me despite myself. But then the generic string parts come in, the vocals become more plaintive, and the result is that they way oversell it, thinking that the song is as good as "Yesterday" when it's really just a pleasant acoustic melody with generic soul-searching lyrics. My point is that their songwriting isn't inherently terrible, but it isn't great either, and when they consistently try to make more out of their songs than what they are, the results to me are worse than if they opted for a more simplified approach. So in the end, this is definitely a blue bin album.

Harry Nilsson - "Sandman" (1975)

Harry Nilsson's Sandman is a record that is moderately out of my comfort zone. I have been known to rail against singer-songwriters because of the near-inevitable focus on lyrics over melody. At least this late in his career, that maxim certainly holds true for Nilsson. Although the first few tracks hold melodic interest, the second side deteriorates in this regard, with the lowlight (at least from a musical perspective) being the near seven-minute "The Flying Saucer Song," the premise of which is a spoken-word conversation between two drunks in a bar (both voiced by Nilsson, of course) who narrate the tale of a flying saucer encounter. Although the lyrics are undeniably witty and even poetic in sections, seven minutes of dialogue over static instrumentation is a bit much for me to handle when I am primarily engaging with records for their musical value.

All that said, this album still rates as one to keep for me because of the overall diversity of his approach as well as some standout tracks (the string-led "Something True" makes excellent use of a crack backing band including Jim Keltner of Derek and the Dominoes fame and Klaus Voormann [the bassist on Plastic Ono Band AND the designer of the cover for Revolver]). (This section could really use some footnotes). I wouldn't recommend it highly, but I would recommend it, and if you are a fan of witty, literate singer-songwriting, this album would probably warrant a higher rating from you than it does for me.

Steely Dan - "Katy Lied" (1975)

Another week, another Steely Dan record (and I have several more!). Two albums into their discography, I think it is safe to say that I like this band quite a bit. Their sound is on the verge of being the same as all the faceless 70s soft-rock LPs I own, but their taste and professionalism always ensures that their songs sound classy instead of slick, interesting instead of generic. I don't like Katy Lied quite as much as I did Countdown to Ecstasy, as the solo instrumental passages weren't as consistently enthralling, nor the proceedings as diverse, but I am comfortable saying that this is still a very good and creative album. And with lyrics like those to "Everyone's Gone to the Movies" (about an old man showing porn to kids), one can even think of as Steely Dan as an early trial run for the postmodern approach of Ween - working firmly within radio-friendly musical forms with lyrics that belie what is coming out of the speakers. Of course, Ween perfected that approach and went far more extreme with it, so perhaps it's best to just focus on the admirable music and consistent songwriting.

Chicago - "17" (1984)

Chicago's 17th album is no doubt a bad one, but is at least not an uninteresting bad record. After all, Chicago was once a good band, and at a basic level, most of the songs are decently-written and have hooks. My personal highlight is second track "We Can Stop the Hurtin," which has great horn parts that hearken back to their jazz-rock past. Unfortunately, the mission of this album was to sell millions of records in 1984, and as such, has a glossed-over, synth-heavy sound that I find unbearable for more than five minutes at a time. The band has moments where they seem to be striving for something longer-lasting, but the sound is totally generic and undercuts their intentions. Songs that should have been good ("Stay the Night") fail to quite get going thanks to the slick and dated production, and the record is ultimately sunk by several identical power ballads that achieved Chicago renewed commercial success, but 27 years later, are just embarrassing. Actually, they were probably embarrassing in 1984, or at least they should have been. Blue bin.

Rickie Lee Jones - "Pirates" (1981)

On second thought, perhaps I was a bit too hasty. After originally consigning this record to the blue bin, I then read some glowing reviews from sources that I generally trust. I like to tell myself that I'm enough of my own man not to assume that other people's opinions are superior to mine, but if music critics I trust are giving a record five stars and I'm saying it's not even good enough to keep, that's a pretty wide chasm to cross. So I did the honorable thing and listened to the record again, and indeed I changed my mind, at least enough to say that I will keep it.

I still wouldn't give the record anything close to five stars, but am willing to admit that there is some melody, just obscured by Jones' vocal phrasing, and that there are definitely instrumental hooks and mood shifts that keep things interesting. I erred in my judgment of the record, because although I absolutely didn't enjoy it on first listen, I probably should have guessed that it was one of those albums that demands more time to absorb, especially being unfamiliar with Jones' jazzy, meandering style which is way less accessible than Joni Mitchell's. The second listen was definitely more rewarding and I understood the music better, even if it is still not exactly my new favorite record. For the sake of posterity, my original, now redacted review is still included below:

This record is a great example of why I am always suspicious of singer-songwriters. Obviously, there are plenty of examples of astounding solo performers who can dazzle with just an acoustic guitar. But for every Bob Dylan, there are ten James Taylors who commit the greatest musical sin of all: being boring. On Pirates, Rickie Lee Jones actually has a full backing band behind her and does try her hand at some complex song structures. The problem is that the emphasis is solely on her lyrics and vocal delivery, and melody is all but forgotten. It's not that her lyrics are bad, although her storytelling style with constant references to Eddies and Louies and Joeys is a bit contrived. It's just that I am of the opinion that with rare exceptions, rock lyrics will do no more than raise or lower an album's score by half a point (again: the obvious exception being Dylan). If the music is boring, I'm not going to take the time to delve into the lyrical themes of the record. And this music is most definitely boring.

"The Best of Cannonball Adderley"

I may not be a jazz aficionado, but I know enough to question whether this is really a "best of" compilation. After all, I own his most famous album (Somethin' Else) and none of those tracks made this record. Unfortunately, allmusic.com is silent regarding how this compilation came together, so it shall remain a mystery. Regardless, if you have ever heard Kind of Blue, or have any interest in serious 1950s jazz, this is a must-own. Adderley's blistering saxophone technique is incomparable, and a testament to what the best jazz is really all about, which is exploratory, transcendent and original playing.

"The Great Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads" (1965)

This record provides a good contrast with my previous review of Delbert McClinton's The Jealous Kind. Not because this is the same style of music, but because it consists of a solo performer performing largely cover material. Because of this, for the music to succeed, the singer needs to have a real personality. Obviously, Otis Redding has just that, and whether it was his untimely death or "Sittin' on (the Dock of the Bay)," the man has reached the point where it's hard for me to imagine anyone saying that they didn't like Otis Redding unless they were a racist (how's that for an alienating claim?). Needless to say, this album is a classic example of mid-60s soul and if there is nothing quite as compelling as "Dock of the Bay," that is hardly an insult.

Delbert McClinton - "The Jealous Road" (1981)

This record was chosen to play by my girlfriend, and we both had similar reactions. The first three songs are all covers in a roots-rock/blues vein, not necessarily bad, but conservative and lacking a distinguishing vocal personality. The fourth song and title track was probably the best song, but skipped on my record every five seconds or so, making it unlistenable by circumstance. Unfortunately for Mr. McClinton, when deciding what records I want to keep, a record that skips is a circumstance that detracts points indeed. I'm not sure if this record would have made it anyways, as again, although I wouldn't say the music was bad, it didn't stand out either. So as such, fairly or unfairly, to the blue bin this record goes.

Steely Dan - "Countdown To Ecstasy" (1973)

From my readings on the Interwebs, I feel that Steely Dan is one of those bands that attracts strong reactions in both positive and negative directions. After listening to Countdown to Ecstasy, the second album by this vaguely jazzy and very 70s rock group, my reaction was strongly... positive! Yes, this may even be a great album. I say that not because the hybrid of jazz and rock styles is all that mind-blowing, but because the instrumental passages are consistently diverse and exciting and because though the compositions seem to come from the 70s soft-rock playbook, Steely Dan manages to keep things classy and adds a touch of sophistication without being too reserved. Basically, if you like "Boddhisatva," you will like this record. I do, and I do.

Pat Martino - "Starbright" (1976)

Furthering my excursions into obscure 1970s jazz records, Pat Martino's Starbright is more proof that jazz wasn't completely dead in the 70s. I tried to listen to this as background music while getting ready for work this morning, but by the end of the record, I was still unsure if I liked it or not. Fortunately, I decided that I probably just hadn't been listening closely enough, and indeed the second listen proved that to be the case.

This is a jazz-fusion record featuring Martino on guitar and keyboards, but is largely a solo jazz guitar affair. The reason it didn't work for me as background music is because Martino's playing is largely slow and subtle and often stays well away from the rock guitar style to which I am accustomed. But when listening more closely, I found that his quiet pieces conjured up a nice atmosphere and the funky pieces which did catch my ear on first listen had more going on than I realized. Best of all, Martino has a diverse approach, being comfortable in classical guitar pieces as well as funk-jazz fusion. So in the end, this record is another keeper in my collection, but definitely an odd one for me to get used to.

Gary Burton and Chick Corea - "Duet" (1978)

I don't consider myself very knowledgeable regarding jazz, although I did take a History of Jazz course my freshman year of college, so perhaps I am underselling myself. But at least relative to my rock and pop tastes, where I basically know what I like, and have basic aesthetic criteria that I use to evaluate it, my jazz tastes are much less well-defined. I know that I consider Kind of Blue to be a masterpiece, but that's about it. I say all this because Gary Burton and Chick Corea's 1978 Duet is a hard-core jazz record, consisting of 50 minutes of piano/vibraphone improvisation.

Yet although I was skeptical about the use of vibraphone, especially as one of only two instruments, I enjoyed this record quite a bit. Corea is a name I know from my freshman year class, and I found his piano-playing to be exciting and rarely boring, continuously exploring new themes and motifs, and I found Burton's vibraphone to be a great accompaniment. So in the end, if I am less certain about whether this is a 3 star or a 4 star record then I would be if it were a rock album, I am certain that this is good music, and as such, it easily makes the cut to stay in my collection.

Joni Mitchell - "Ladies of the Canyon" (1970)

Although I've heard a lot about Joni Mitchell, I haven't actually heard much of her music, so Ladies of the Canyon is really my introduction to her work. Generally, I'm impressed, and since this one is generally considered to be a step below the albums that came right after it, I am intrigued enough to hear more. This album is largely just Mitchell and an acoustic guitar, but she makes sure to stay well away from the boredom that legions of less-talented singer/songwriters would surely have induced. Instead, with her ear for odd harmonies and chord progressions and love for quirkiness and dissonance, this music is really anything but boring. If anything, my biggest gripe (and my girlfriend's, who hated this record) is that at times, her high-pitched delivery and wacko song structures are just too weird to fully comprehend. So don't do Mitchell the disservice of dismissing her as some sort of boring 70s singer that old people like and please don't judge "Big Yellow Taxi" by the Counting Crows/Vanessa Carlton cover.

Elton John - "11-17-70"

Well, I'm not exactly making good on my promise to review a record a day. Such is life. But I'll keep trying! As for Elton John's live album, appropriately titled "11/17/70," it is no doubt a keeper. I admit, I am not as keen on live albums in general as some, though I do appreciate most of the undisputed classics of the genre (i.e., The Who's Live at Leeds or Deep Purple's Made in Japan). So I found John's sparse lineup of piano, bass and drums to be more solid than outstanding. All that said, the three players are impressive (especially Dee Murray on bass) and this record is a reminder of a time not so long ago when Elton was not a musical has-been but a vibrant and sometimes thrilling performer.

Roxy Music - "Siren" (1975)

Much like Alice Cooper's Killer, Siren is an album that I own that is widely acknowledged to be a classic, and yet I had never listened to it until yesterday afternoon. So in addition to the joys of reviewing random bad records, this project is also motivating me to listen to my GOOD albums too. What an outlandish idea. At any rate, I am becoming more and more confident in my ability to determine if I will like an album on one listen (as I am of the opinion that it takes at least 3 listens to properly assess a record, at least to make fine distinctions about whether something is a 4 star or a 4.5 star album), and after about 10 seconds of hearing the bass intro to "Love is the Drug," I knew this record was a definite keeper.

There is something to be said for contrast, and indeed, Roxy Music's intelligent, dance-oriented sound which signals both towards New Wave (I had heard the stellar "Love is the Drug" on the radio before and would have guessed it was an early 80s single) and hearkens back to 40s and 50s lounge music as well, sounds especially great to my ears right after listening to Seals and Crofts. I especially like the voice of singer Bryan Ferry, who weirdly, reminds me of Antony Hegarty from Anthony and the Johnsons when he croons. I don't know that this album will become a masterpiece in my mind, as it at times is a bit too self-consciously weird, but I would still heartily recommend it.

Seals and Crofts - "Get Closer" (1976)

Seals and Crofts' trademark is "soft rock", which I have always found is a veiled way to call something boring and watered-down. And indeed, Get Closer is exactly that. On the surface, it might not seem that bad. The duo plays around a little bit with psychedelic song structures, even jamming out (so to speak) on the final track "Passing Thing" and none of the songs are particularly poorly written. Yet the vocals of either Seals or Crofts (I don't really care which) have absolutely no emotion whatsoever, calibrated to sound smooth and good on the radio. The instruments all wash together, with nothing really standing out. And as such, the result is aurally-induced narcolepsy. There is nothing here that could qualify as a guilty pleasure like their hit single "Summer Breeze" and the free-spirited 'jam' on "Passing Thing" is the most boring part of the record since neither Seals nor Crofts nor their armada of studio musicians is capable of an interesting musical idea beyond quoting "As Time Goes By." Blue bin, of course.

Howard Jones - "Dream Into Action" (1985)

A lot of the fun of this project for me is the idea of listening to random records, setting aside my biases for 40 minutes, and letting my ears do the judgment. I had never heard of Howard Jones before acquiring this album, and I admit I do tend to be biased towards artists whom I've never heard of, based on my optimistic theory that over time, good albums will always be remembered (by music critics at the minimum) and that the best artists will stand the test of time. So by this theory, the fact that I'd never heard of Howard Jones (keeping in mind that I read A LOT of music and album reviews and can expound on the traits and most highly-regarded albums of plenty of artists I have never actually listened to) is a red flag that that there was something lacking in his discography.

Yet much as I'd like to make a lot of corny jokes about how this album is a turkey in honor of Thanksgiving, I actually found "Dream Into Action" to be a very impressive record. Although the sound is very dated to 1985, with plenty of automated rhythm tracks, synthesizers, and a singing voice which is hardly distinguishable from other 80s British New Wave artists from the same time period, I found the songs to be consistently creative, interesting, and diverse. The singles that lead off each side - "Things Can Only Get Better" and "Look Mama," are both top-tier mid 80s singles and the surrounding tracks are not much worse.

My major criticism of the album lies with the fact that the sound is so dated - although the individual songs are fairly creative, I have to suspect that the major reason Jones has largely been forgotten is that the album is so locked into its time period, and worse yet, does not really have a personality that sets it apart from other artists working in the same genre. It's a good record, but there are better albums with a similar sound, making it all too easy for Jones to have fallen out of favor when recalling the best records of the 80s. But setting that aside, I enjoyed this album quite a bit, and would definitely recommend it.

Jimmy Buffett - "Son of a Son of a Sailor" (1978)

Before listening to this record, I had a fairly negative perception of Jimmy Buffett, but in truth, I hadn't actually heard much of his music. After listening to this record, some of my hostility towards Buffett dissipated, for although I still don't really have any personal connection to his odes to the Caribbean and drinking margaritas on the beach, his persona is clearly intended to be at least somewhat tongue-in-cheek. So as ridiculous as a song called "Cheeseburger in Paradise" may be, it is at least leavened with a dose of humor, which I can always appreciate.

All that said, this album will not remain in my collection, for although the title track is a somewhat catchy folk ditty and it may be that "Cheeseburger in Paradise" is secretly brilliant, the rest failed to impress on a basic songwriting level, unlike the undeniable hooks of say, "Margaritaville". This record is not really touted as one of Buffett's best and since I am no Parrothead to begin with, I feel no regret in tossing this one into the blue bin, blue being the color that fits a son of a son of a sailor best.

Stanley Turrentine - "Everybody Come On Out" (1976)

I was somewhat hesitant to include jazz records on this blog, since I find it hard to heap withering scorn on saxophone solos. More accurately, I was concerned that my ears aren't cultivated enough to distinguish between jazz as background music and jazz as art. Fortunately, I came to my senses and realized that it doesn't have to be that difficult. The only question I'm trying to answer is "Do I reasonably expect that I would ever want to listen to this album again?"

For Stanley Turrentine, the answer is, barely, a yes, although this is most definitely an example of jazz as background music. Turrentine brought in a large group ensemble for this record but they mostly play string-backed ballads, are rarely adventurous, and cover a song called "Stairway to Heaven," that is NOT the one written by Robert Plant. Still, the title track is a decent jazz-funk fusion jam and most of the first side features soulful saxophone playing by Turrentine. The second side is quite a bit less tolerable, but if nothing else, has the advantage that instrumental music possesses of being difficult to give offense, at least to my virginal jazz ears. "Everybody Come On Out" is no landmark jazz record, but in my collection it shall remain.

The Steve Miller Band - "Abracadabra" (1982)

I was perhaps too quick to say that I was considering filing Steve Winwood between Steve Miller and Steve Perry. I almost forgot that I despise the Steve Miller band. Fortunately, a listen to the first side of Abracadabra brought me back to the joys of hating a piece of music and all the superiority implied. Maybe if I had been born in 1978 instead of 1988, I would instinctively gravitate towards Miller's watered-down rock sound with the force that only childhood nostalgia can lend. Alas, it wasn't so, and as such, my only reaction to the title track is one of horror.

All that said, if there is some objective arbiter of taste out there, I am sure that he or she would agree that I like worse albums than this one. It's poppy, overtly commercial, and dated, but so was that album I reviewed last night. I just happen to think that Miller is one obnoxiously smug motherfucker. I admit the chugging guitar rhythm of "Abracadabra" drew me in for a few moments, but once I heard its sneering chorus, all the loathing that I have felt for his other hit songs like "The Joker" came flooding back. The postures of hipness and slick production are just too much for me to deal with for this genre of music, and so to the blue bin I consign Abracadabra.

Steve Winwood - "Back in the High Life" (1986)

Perhaps I am losing my gift for condescension and withering criticism, but here is yet another quintessential 'bargain bin' album that will remain in my collection rather than traverse to that great blue bin in the sky. Most notable for the radio staple "Higher Love," this solo outing by former Traffic and Spencer Davis Group singer Steve Winwood is much better than I was anticipating, even if I have never quite been able to make myself change the station when "Higher Love" comes on.

If you've heard "Higher Love" or clicked the friendly Youtube link I have provided, you will probably be able to ascertain whether you, too, would like this record. Maybe it's just because this kind of music was subtly imprinted on my brain while I was in the womb, but I do have a predilection for the overproduced, horn-driven sound that Winwood favors. More importantly, a solid majority of the songs have hooks and melodies that caught my ear on first listen - simplistic pop, but not necessarily trivial. I certainly found the album to be of much higher quality than Phil Collins' similar-sounding LPs of the same era, so there must be something to the songwriting. It's hardly a great album, as every song is too long, and the second side is boring, but it is good enough to nestle back onto my shelf in between The Who and Wonder, Stevie. Or perhaps between Steve Miller and Steve Perry, depending on your alphabetical predisposition.

The Roches - "The Roches" (1979)

The Roches are a band I had never heard of until tonight. Although the front cover did not appear particularly promising, I definitely liked this record. It is basically an acoustic folk album, with a strong emphasis on the harmonies of Maggie, Terry, and Suzzy Roche. When I heard the first ten or fifteen seconds of the opening track "We," with three high-pitched voices singing "We are Maggie and Terre and Suzzy," I cringed a bit, thinking I had stumbled across some sort of drugged-out children's album. But although very twee (not that that term existed in 1979), the song is actually a tongue-in-cheek introduction to the group, featuring dissonant harmonies and odd, but clever lyrics ("We don't give out our ages/And we don't give out our phone numbers/Sometimes our voices give out/but not our ages and our phone numbers").

Throughout the record, the Roches play precious, almost child-like music that nonetheless has a definite arty bent (the album is produced by Robert Fripp of prog-rock giant King Crimson and features his electric guitar as well as King Crimson staple Tony Levin on bass). Although the music is very sparse, the harmonies and melodies are weird enough to keep things interesting, and overall, the album is not quite like anything else I have ever heard. My main criticism is that the songs tend to run for four or five minutes in length, which feels a bit long for what are fairly simplistic (at least texturally simplistic) songs. But setting that aside, The Roches is definitely a very good album and another pleasant surprise in my collection.