Christopher Cross - "Christopher Cross" (1979)

Rating: 4
Verdict: Blue Bin

I read enough about music that I sort of knew what to expect from this album, even though I don't think I'd heard any songs from it besides "Sailing." Quiet soft-rock with pianos, strings and horns that apparently dominated the radio in 1979 and won five Grammies (I will resist the obligatory potshot at the Grammies since I'm sure my target audience shares my opinion on them). Unsurprisingly, Cross has faded into obscurity given that there is little of lasting musical value here.

Still, this record does boast a 4.5 star rating on allmusic.com so probably deserves a dismissal that is longer than one paragraph. Thus, I'll give it two! Stephen Thomas Erlewine writes that this "was a hell of a record -- it just was a hell of a soft rock record, something that doesn't carry a lot of weight among most audiences." His general point is the album is consistent, well-crafted, and has strength beyond the singles. And at some level, I don't think he's incorrect. The songs do have hooks, are mostly memorable, and there's no particular drop in quality to be found. But they're also so limp and languid that there's just no way I can imagine myself feeling emotional stimulation from this music. My reward to Mr. Cross for his craftsmanship is giving this record a 4 out of 10 instead of a 1 or a 2, and I have a strong feeling that his later albums would be in that range for me, considering this is supposed to be his best. But it's still a no doubt blue bin record.

James Taylor - "Sweet Baby James" (1969)

Rating: 6

Verdict: Keeper

I have long professed to hate James Taylor, but I am well conditioned to the idea that nearly every musical artist looks bad if you let them keep recording long enough. In the case of Taylor, a fairly mediocre singer/songwriter in the scheme of things, but one who has released a long series of albums, it should be no surprise that most of them are bad, at least if my blue bin is any indication. My point is that despite having tried several Taylor albums and having liked none of them, it's not completely fair to judge an artist by their dregs rather than their prime. Because of this, I was willing to give Sweet Baby James a listen as it is commonly regarded as the best JT album. If I didn't like this one, then I could probably safely conclude that Taylor never made a good album.

Well, this record is proof that he did make a good album, and against my better judgment, I am somewhat impressed by this record. I still don't care for his bland voice ('easygoing' being the word that people that like him use), but this is the only James Taylor album I've heard where he wasn't content to simply strum on his guitar and sing the first melody that came to mind for the lyrics he wrote. Yes, there are actual points of musical interest here. He was never a revolutionary in this regard, being firmly grounded in folk, country and blues (mostly folk), but it's quite refreshing to hear him play acoustic guitar parts that are actually interesting to hear on their own rather than simply acting as accompaniment. He switches style and tempo enough that there's diversity as well and best of all, genuine care put into developing his melodies. Witness the jazzy, off-hand end of "Fire and Rain" - the later Taylor would have deemed the chorus good enough and probably omitted the descending hook in the verses too ("I just can't remember who to send it to").

Now I didn't love this album, and part of my reflexive disdain for Taylor stems from those who try to elevate him to the position of an all-time great. For example, this album ranked 103rd on Rolling Stone's Top 500 albums of all time. It might make my top 500 by default as of this writing (I doubt the number of albums I have heard is significantly larger than that) but I seriously doubt it would come anywhere near it if I had heard all the albums that Rolling Stone presumably considered. Instead, Sweet Baby James completes my understanding of Taylor's ultimate importance - at least, to my own imaginary musical pantheon. At one time, he was capable of making nice music so he can't be completely dismissed. But if this is the best he could offer, then it's not surprising that I don't like much else by him. 

Rating: 7/10

The Smashing Pumpkins - "MACHINA/The Machines of God"

Rating: 6

You may know it as the notorious album that precipitated the Smashing Pumpkins' breakup. But is MACHINA/The Machines of God as terrible as its title would indicate? Perhaps I have my head so far up Billy Corgan's bald ass that I can't tell what good music is anymore, but I say no. But mediocre, most definitely!

For although Corgan's songwriting declined as we entered our third millennium, it hadn't completely gone to shit either. However, this album is filled with bad artistic decisions. Let's take a quick run-through of the decision-making of Mr. Corgan:

Wrote a set of spiritual, soaring mid-tempo ballads? Make sure that every song is produced with a deafening, buzzing wall of sound that makes Phil Spector want to kill again.

Need a lead single? Re-write "Zero" from Mellon Collie, give it a meaningless title ("The Everlasting Gaze") and make sure to include an a cappella section where you sing the line "But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every cog" with a hard G so that everyone wonders if they just heard you scream 'skulls of every cock'.*

Find yourself with 25-30 minutes of top-notch material and no more? Make the album 73 minutes long and then release a companion album called MACHINA II with 90 minutes of OUTTAKES from the recording sessions.

Shit, I've almost convinced myself that I shouldn't give this album three stars which is what I'm going to do at the end of this review. But despite the flaws, I do think there is 25-30 minutes of top-notch material here, which is enough for a borderline positive rating. The stretch from "Stand Inside Your Love" through "This Time" is good enough that I can almost forgive the stretch of bad songs from the needlessly 10-minute "Glass and the Ghost Children" (solid at 3 minutes, bad at 10), through the tedious "Blue Skings Bring Tears." I wouldn't say there's a great album buried here, but there is a good album at 10 or 11 songs, especially with sparser production. And what pushes me over into positive territory is that "Stand Inside Your Love" is a truly great single, the one vestige of classic Pumpkins.

So if you're a Pumpkins fan, you should still listen to this album. If you aren't, don't. And no, there is no fucking way I am ever going to listen to MACHINA II.

Rating: *** out of *****

* There is one other example of this that I can think of in the annals of rock: Manfred Mann's "Blinded by the Light" where the singer clearly sings "Wrapped up like a douche" when the line is "Wrapped up like a deuce." I'm not sure I can say why, but both songs make my skin crawl.

The Smashing Pumpkins - "Pisces Iscariot" (1994)

Rating: 8

Sure, he brought it on himself, but I find it a shame that Billy Corgan is mostly known as a crackpot, or worse, the bald guy with the shitty voice. I don't think he is (or was) quite a genius, but perhaps the Smashing Pumpkins' relatively disappointing fade-out post Mellon Collie shouldn't have been such a surprise. Consider the lengths of their first three albums:

Gish: 45:45

Siamese Dream: 62:17

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness: 121:39

Then throw in this album, an excellent 57-minute collection of B-sides and outtakes and you've got over 4 hours and 45 minutes of quality Pumpkins, or seven normal-length vinyl records. So where a non-fan might see the lukewarm reception to their fourth and fifth albums (and subsequent breakup) and think they were some flash in the pan, they were really just victims of hanging around too long and letting Corgan make an ass of himself in the media one too many times. His prime may have been relatively short, but he wrote 10 or 15 years worth of music for some bands in four years.

Oh yeah, Pisces Iscariot. It has the best reputation of the various compilations of the band's unreleased tracks (yes, there are several) but I was a bit skeptical that they really had another full album's worth of good material considering it only draws on the recording sessions for two albums (Gish and Siamese Dream). And yet, I find this better than Gish and their third-best 'album' overall. It has a surprisingly good flow for a compilation, alternating between typical Pumpkins rockers and lighter, more evocative material. Corgan not only doesn't embarrass himself covering "Landslide," he does almost as good a job as Fleetwood Mac!

What I find particularly refreshing is that it largely lacks the epic ambitions of their first three studio albums and instead most of the tracks clock in between 2.5 and 4 minutes. Though this ambition is what made the group great at their best, it could be their downfall as well, so the result is that Pisces Iscariot is much more consistent, if lacking the stunning high points of Siamese Dream or Mellon Collie. 

That said, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there is one major exception here to the previous paragraph - the 11-minute "Starla" which definitely qualifies as a stunning high point in my book. As this album demonstrates quite well, there are two major components to the group's sound: loud, distorted alternative rock meets heavy metal and lush, dreamy soft pop. I find they are at their most compelling when they combine the two in the same song, and "Starla" is a great example of this. Beginning with a quiet arpeggiated opening, they bring in a gruff riff, slowly building the song to a crescendo before dropping to a quiet fadeout five minutes in, seemingly the end of the song. Not so! Instead, Corgan comes to the fore with nearly six minutes of Hendrix-esque guitar soloing as he scrapes every bit of unearthly noise he can get out of his instrument. It's ridiculous and should be terrible, and yet somehow, it's the best thing here. And that is the essence of the Smashing Pumpkins.

The Clarke/Duke Project - "II" (1983)

Rating: 4

Verdict: Blue Bin

Although I have still been making my way through my album collection and merrily blue-binning records, it has come to my attention that I haven't actually been reviewing them. So I'm back to review the Clarke/Duke  Project!

I actually own three records by Stanley Clarke, who for those who don't know (I didn't), is best known for his bass playing on his own solo fusion records in the 70s as well as those of various jazz supergroups. The other two records I own, Journey to Love and School Days, I rather enjoyed and showcased a surprising level of diversity and inventiveness on Clarke's part in addition to the expected hyperactive bass playing (also worthwhile). And yet, prior to listening to this record, released just seven years after School Days, I looked up the allmusic.com rating and saw a 1.5 star rating. I doubted the veracity of such a low mark but really shouldn't have.

Indeed, Clarke was a victim of the same mass loss of taste in the 1980s that affected so many other musicians who released excellent music in the 60s and 70s. Having released several seminal jazz albums, he performed some inscrutable calculus that led him to the conclusion that the next way to proceed as an artist was to release albums of poorly sung dance-pop backed by drum machines and synthesizers. There are occasional glimpses on this record of Clarke's stupendous bass playing as well as a jazz-informed sense of melody. But I believe that these aspects may well make this particular album worse instead of better since they obscure whatever hooks there may well be. I will admit that the record isn't totally abysmal, but what it is is pointless and a disappointment compared to what came before. Blue bin!

Bob Dylan - "New Morning" (1970)

Rating: 8

Although it is my opinion that Dylan would never again reach the astounding heights of Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde (and that includes Blood on the Tracks, which although it would probably make my purely hypothetical Hall of Fame Album Pyramid, wouldn't make the Pantheon), my recent listening to his immediate post-Blonde oeuvre certainly hasn't been unrewarding. Although I agree with the critical masses that his infamous Self-Portrait was a misfire, I also don't think it deserves infamy. Yet he released several good to great albums during this stretch, including John Wesley Harding, Nashville Skyline, and New Morning, released just four months after Self-Portrait. My main criticism of him during this stretch is not that he lost his genius, but that his genius was unfocused, manifesting itself on a handful of songs per album only. This is somewhat the case on New Morning, but there is enough strong material to recommend it.

On this album, Bob largely ditches the guitar and focuses primarily on rambling piano ballads. Being Dylan, his piano-playing is unpolished, his vocals are abrasive at times, and especially due to the short length (35 minutes), it isn't hard to imagine it being knocked off in four months. Yet he is also more direct and heartfelt on this album than he had really ever been until this point, and he conveys a genuine warmth and sweetness. Although this is nowhere near as momentous a record as his earlier stuff and has too much filler for me to call it a masterpiece (witness the awful beatnik spoken-word "When Dogs Run Free"), the best songs here are also spiritually akin in that Dylan's humanity shines through like almost no other rock songwriter can manage.

For example, I was already familiar with the opening track "If Not For You," as covered by George Harrison on All Things Must Pass. After hearing Harrison's glorious Phil Spector-ized version with its wall of acoustic guitars, the much more low-key Dylan version with its significantly dinkier organ part and ramshackle feel passed me by on the first listen. And yet now, I am overwhelmed by the homely charm of the Dylan rendition and although the Harrison version is hard to beat, it's much closer than I ever would have thought.

The other major highlight for me is "Sign On the Window" which has the closing verse:

Built me a cabin in Utah

Marry me a wife, catch a rainbow trout

Have a bunch of kids who call me Pa

That must be what it's all about

Out of context, these lyrics seem almost embarrassingly naive. But in the context of the rest of the lyrics. ("Sign on a porch says, 'Three's a crowd'"), the tone is much more wistful. And in the context of the music, when you hear his rueful vocals in conjunction with his piano, it's deeply moving. Although Dylan is about the lyrics first and foremost (contrary to what the contrarians will have you believe), the way he sings the lyrics is just as important as how they are written down on paper, which is what nearly all the singer-songwriters who followed in his footsteps forgot. Keeper!

Crystal Gayle - "We Must Believe In Magic" (1977)

Rating: 5

I own two records by Crystal Gayle, who I had never heard of prior to that fateful day when I bought four boxes of records for $70. Apparently she was a somewhat popular country singer in the late 70s and early 80s but has faded into obscurity today, being most notable for being the younger singer of Loretta Lynn and having recorded a soundtrack album with Tom Waits. Both of these facts give her some credibility in my eyes, and although I am not exactly a country buff, I did find the pure country songs on We Must Believe in Magic to be tolerable. Gayle has a nice, though not exceptional voice and she's preferable to most modern country for sure.

The problem with this record is that the notion of trying to have a crossover hit had already seeped its way into Nashville, and several tracks here are misguided attempts to blend the horn section and rhythm of a disco song with the steel guitars of a country song (well, it was 1977). The main offenders are the disco-country cover of Cole Porter's "It's All Right with Me" (as awful as it sounds) and the closing title track, a synthesizer-led adult contemporary ballad that really isn't country at all and featuring lyrics about Alpha Centauri, ensuring that it would be dated by 1978.

So apart from the efforts to be modern, the country songs here are decent. But I'm not a country buff, so those songs aren't enough for me to rate this as a good album. They're decent, but they're not George Jones. Blue bin!

Mr. Mister - "Welcome to the Real World" (1985)

Rating: 3

Mr. Mister was a group of L.A. session musicians who formed in the early 80s to put their own spin on the pop-rock style of bands like Toto and Chicago (that sentence should tell you all you need to know about this band, but I shall proceed nonetheless). Indeed, lead singer Richard Page was offered the opportunity to lead both those groups, but declined and was rewarded with two #1 hits in "Kyrie" and "Broken Wings." Commercially, Mr. Mister was briefly very successful before fading into oblivion. Artistically, not so much.

I listened to the first three tracks on the first side and heard nothing but flat stadium rock with dopey keyboards and sludgy power chords in place of riffs. So I was prepared to turn the record off before even making it to the end of side one but then noticed that the three major hits on the album (the two aforementioned, plus top 10 single "Is It Love") were all aligned in a row on the second side. I'm not sure if Mr. Mister thought that would give them some credibility or perhaps force listeners to pay attention to their faceless music of the first side, but either way, definitely not a good move. Sometimes you just have to admit your limitations and front-load the album because that's all anyone wants to hear anyways.

Of course, it's not like those hits were particularly good, which I strongly suspect to be correlated with Mr. Mister's subsequent decline. "Kyrie" has the catchiest chorus on the record but said chorus is indistinguishable from Toto's "Africa." "Broken Wings" is the only song here that I recognized ("take... these broken wings") and I would call it the worst song on the album if I had actually listened to every song on the album. It's a prototypical power ballad, and like many 80s power ballads of ill repute, the group seemed to think that playing the entire song at a dragging tempo and having Page offer up somber platitudes is the same thing as writing a heart-wrenching love song. It isn't. 

So while allmusic.com may give this album four stars by default for being the Mr. Mister album with the most hits, that just makes me terrified to imagine what their other albums might be like. Blue bin!

Blue Bin Singles

As I tend to be an album-oriented person, I have found myself neglecting the small pile of singles that I acquired as part of my record collection. Though there are some worthy singles to be found in it (i.e, The Beatles' "Real Love"), there is also, of course, much to be jeered at and scorned. This post is about those unlucky singles that fall into the latter category.

The Young Moderns - "Body Won't Obey/(she's a) Disposable Girl"


The Young Moderns supplant whatever random jazz artist last held the title for Most Obscure Musical Act in my collection. My customary search on allmusic.com turned up no results for the group whatsoever. I then located this very single on rateyourmusic.com, with exactly one rating on its page and no other works by the Young Moderns listed. For this apparently hip, youthful group that featured both a male and female Jamie (as I inferred from the back of the single cover), this single was their one chance to make it big. And with the results sounding like the Sex Pistols if Yoko Ono were their lead singer, they failed.

Billy Ocean - "When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going"


Robotic R&B dance-pop lacking the charm of Ocean's most famous single "Get Out of my Dreams (And Into My Car)." The most entertaining thing about this single for me is that the B-side is an instrumental version of the A-side, as if anyone would ever want to hear five minutes of a three-note electronic bass line played over a drum machine.

Dion - "Abraham, Martin & John/From Both Sides Now"


From the crooner most famous for "The Wanderer," this single found Dion attempting to recast himself as a sensitive folk-rock performer. On the A-side, Dion contemplates the assassinations of Lincoln, King and Kennedy but has nothing interesting or meaningful to say ("But it seems the good they die young/I just looked around and he's gone") nor despite laying on strings and organ, is the song anything but boring.

R.J.'s Latest Arrival - "Shackles"


Dating back to 1983, this was, for all I know, this was a pioneering rap single. Unfortunately, this R.J. or perhaps his latest arrival had yet to pioneer quality in rap. Once again, the B-side is an instrumental so you get to hear a lot of scratched turntables if you're into that kind of thing.

Art & Dotty Todd - "Chanson D'Amour"/Johnny Crawford - "Cindy's Birthday"


Pre-Beatles pap. To make a Bayesian inference, the odds of me enjoying a song by the performers Art and Dotty Todd are close to zero.

J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers - "Last Kiss/Hey Little Girl"


Hey, it's that song Pearl Jam covered in the 1990s! But there can only be one great early 60s song about the death of a teenager and that song is "Leader of the Pack." Okay, I like this song too, but it's not the original version, and this obscure cover isn't particularly noteworthy.

Mike Cross - "Rock 'n' Rye" (1980)

Rating: 4

This album is definitely one of the most obscure records in my collection, having obtained exactly one rating on rateyourmusic.com (and zero reviews). Even allmusic.com didn't review this album, though Mike Cross does at least have his own biography. Because of this, I know that he went to UNC-Chapel Hill, thus joining James Taylor in the annals of mediocre musicians hailing from the town where I currently live. Oops, did I spoil the surprise?

Although I had the impression from the album cover of the other Mike Cross album I own (yes, I have two) that this would be some sort of Irish folk album, it is in fact mostly straight-up country, with some occasional electric guitar and fiddle thrown in. It is at least 'old-school' country, i.e., not just an insular ode to the redneck lifestyle like modern country, but with lyrical subject matter mostly about broken hearts and getting drunk. I am not particularly inclined towards even this kind of music, but much like with blues, the songs are all pretty much the same, so it is safe to say that a country record succeeds largely on the passion and sincerity of the singer. And although Cross seems to be a genial fellow, his slow songs aren't wracked and anguished enough for my liking, and his fast songs not funny enough. I'm not going to pop a boner for just any country record made before 1990, so there's only one judgment I can give Rock 'n' Rye: blue bin!

James Taylor - "Gorilla" (1975)

Rating: 4

Frankly, I can't stand James Taylor, Chapel Hill lineage or no. To quote allmusic.com, "when people use the term 'singer/songwriter' in praise or in criticism, they're thinking of James Taylor." Indeed Taylor is who I associate with the term "singer-singwriter" and I absolutely mean it in criticism the majority of the time. Gorilla is a fairly lightweight album, exploring more poppy acoustic arrangements, so isn't exactly like the man's most famous (or infamous) work, but does share the same critical flaw that there isn't a single memorable melody to be found on the record. Perhaps I exaggerate, but this record does nothing to correct my impression that behind Taylor's warm, smooth vocals and pleasant guitar playing, there isn't much interesting musically here. Lyrically, there are some interesting moments, but this isn't exactly supposed to be a 'deep' album anyways, not that it would impress me much more if it were. Someday I'll listen to Sweet Baby James and decide once and for all if there is anything in James Taylor's discography I would enjoy, but if there is, it certainly isn't here. Blue bin!

Stanley Turrentine - "Have You Ever Seen The Rain" (1975)

Rating: 4

Basically the same thing as his 1974 release Pieces of Dreams. Slightly better due to two tracks ("T's Dream," "Tommy's Tune") which are much closer to classic jazz than the orchestrated pap that makes up the rest of the album, but there's still the matter of the orchestrated pap that makes up the rest of the album. On the other hand, his token pop/rock cover is less inspired this time around since jazz CCR makes significantly less sense than jazz Stevie Wonder. But on the third (?) hand, this one has a pretty sweet album cover. Obviously I don't have much else to say besides the obvious: blue bin!

Stanley Turrentine - "Pieces of Dreams" (1974)

Rating: 4

For some reason, I own three records by tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine. In the early days of this blog, I reviewed his 1976 release Everybody Come On Out and (barely) decided it was worth keeping. Today, I feel not quite so sympathetic and am reconsidering my verdict on his other record as well. If I were more of a jazz connoisseur, I suspect I would be grievously offended by Turrentine's 70s schtick. The reason is that the music is heavily orchestrated, with saxophone solos played over the strings in a warm, inoffensive tone, never straying too far from the main melody. In other words, easy listening, dentist's office jazz. 

I am not a jazz connoisseur, so it's hard for me to feel too outraged by this material. But I still found it to be, on the whole, boring. I'm sure it would work fine as the soundtrack to a TV show or as faintly heard background music riding in an elevator, but as active listening material, it failed to engage me. The only potential point of interest for me is that there is a version of Stevie Wonder's "Evil" on the second side, but when all Turrentine does is play the vocal melody on saxophone, it's hard to see the point. Sure, the chord changes are still cool, but Stevie's version is far more interesting. Blue bin!

Eddie Money - "Playing for Keeps" (1980) & "Can't Hold Back" (1986)

       

Rating: 2 and 4

I didn't think I had anything interesting to say about one Eddie Money album, so why not review two at once! Even better for this sort of premise, allmusic.com gave 1980's Playing for Keeps 2 stars but gave 1986's Can't Hold Back 4.5 stars, which potentially makes for an interesting compare and contrast exercise. Was Money really that much more successful with his 1986 effort than his 1980 effort? And if so, why?

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

No, of course not. Both albums suck. 

Okay, Can't Hold Back is definitely better. On Playing for Keeps, Money attempts to cast himself as a straight-up classic rocker, but his music lacks any of the elements that make good classic rock successful, and winds up boring and faceless. Eddie's voice is like Rod Stewart's without the rasp. In other words, it's not really much like anything at all. 

On Can't Hold Back, Mr. Money (or perhaps his production team) conceded that he was really in this for radio success, added keyboards and horns, more melodic choruses, and the result was his most famous single ("Take Me Home Tonight") as well as renewed commercial success. I could almost be convinced that this is a good album, because I can't deny that the songs have hooks, and it's surprisingly consistent. And then Money's lifeless vocals remind me that there is really no reason to listen to even Can't Hold Back, presumably his best, more than once. Blue bin for all! 

Steve Perry - "Street Talk" (1984)

Rating: 4

I will admit, this is one of those times where there was probably a close to zero chance that I would vote to keep this record. Although I enjoy "Don't Stop Believin" as much as any frat brother, it's because it's so cheesy, stupid, and over-the-top that it's fun to sing along to, and certainly not because I identify with the pathos of Journey, who is really just a worse version of Kansas. If lead singer Steve Perry had any latent songwriting talent, he probably would have displayed it prior to going solo.

And as I expected, Street Talk is a pretty mediocre album. Still, it did at least provide me with an "oh yeah, that song" moment with the first track, "Oh Sherrie" (click the link, I guarantee you'll have one too), which I do take a certain pleasure in. To Perry's credit, this is mostly straightforward arena rock and lacks the progressive inclinations of Journey, thus ensuring that it avoids being totally reprehensible. Not to Perry's credit is that the songwriting is boring, the musicianship weak, and even the tracks that have decent hooks ("Oh Sherrie," "Foolish Heart") are nothing more than polished, sterile craftsmanship. He can hit some impressive notes and has a quintessential mid-80s rock voice, but I'm not really sure those attributes are even good things in this context. Blue bin!

Olivier Messiaen - "Quartet for the End of Time" (1941)

Rating: 9

Note: The above album cover is not actually the performance I own of this piece.

Although my working knowledge of classical music is scant and pathetic, I do know enough that I had at least been meaning to listen to my Quartet for the End of Time LP for several years now. In terms of backstory, it's hard to beat, since much of it was composed by Olivier Messiaen while he was a prisoner of war during World War II. Even better yet (from my perspective), the themes deal with no less than the Apocalypse and the music is a paean to angels coming down from Heaven. I may not be religious myself, but I do have a fondness for music inspired by religion, assuming it is infused with a proper awe and majesty (which classical music usually is).

Still, I had listened to part of the record once, but as background music, and expected something more immediately majestic and stirring, where it in fact does awhile to get going. But with a full listen, I really found myself drawn in by the power of the piece. In particular, I was struck by the fifth movement, (which closes the first side on my record) a slow, seven-minute cello solo backed by piano, and if at first it seemed somewhat sparse, the richness of the theme slowly gives way to a state of bliss. And to have it followed up by a wild dissonant piece hearkening the six trumpets of the Apocalypse is something that I just don't ever find in my usual sphere of pop and rock music.

It will definitely take me more listens to appreciate everything that Messiaen is doing here, especially due to my lack of experience with modern classical. But although I'm afraid to stake out a final position yet (above rating is a guess), I have a strong feeling that this shit is really good. Like, fucking great. So needless to say, keeper!

Spirit - "Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus" (1970)

Rating: 8

Judging by the album cover, this one looked like a bust. Or I suppose it would have, if I hadn't already known this to be a fairly acclaimed record. And indeed, Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus is just as trippy as the title and the album cover would imply, but it is also a potent brew. I am not quite sure how to describe the sound, which is at least one sign of a good record, or at least a unique one. There are elements of jazz, folk, and hard rock, but with spacey guitars and processed vocals. Maybe it's a stretch, but in places, it reminded me of Animal Collective, though I suppose Spirit is slightly more restrained. That's another sign of a good record, though, for although the vibe of the record is dated, the sound is quite modern. Overall, I was very impressed, although I think they sometimes go overboard in trying to be weird and psychedelic, so I wouldn't quite call it a lost masterpiece. But a very good record? Hell yes! Keeper!

Bruce Hornsby and the Range - "The Way It Is" (1986)

Rating: 7

Bruce Hornsby is Springsteen without the aggression, or perhaps Dire Straits without the grit. So if my first reaction to hearing these gentle, smoothly produced, mid-tempo guitar rockers was to throw up in my mouth a little bit, can I really be blamed? And although Hornsby's synthesizer playing is more of an added texture to the songs than the primary focus, its existence at all instantly dates the record to right around 1986. But somehow, as the album kept going, I had the sudden epiphany that every single song had a driving melody and tuneful chorus. This record, in fact, has the opposite problem from my last review. In this case, the production and general vibe turn me off, but after sitting down and giving it a full, focused listen, I can't help but appreciate the craftsmanship and more importantly, the consistency. It'd still be easy to say that the aforementioned flaws immediately sink it, but I'm a fan of nuance in my ratings, so while The Way It Is is certainly no masterpiece, it is a perfectly fine album. Keeper!

Paul Carrack - "Suburban Voodoo" (1982)

Rating: 5

According to allmusic.com, Paul Carrack was "pop music's ultimate journeyman," with "his finest work coming at the expense of his own identity." Shockingly, these traits make for a thoroughly mediocre solo album. Produced by Nick Lowe, Suburban Voodoo sounds pretty much exactly like Lowe's own Labour of Lust, with elements of Squeeze thrown in (who Carrack also sang for). Carrack's vocal style is ostensibly soulful, but fails to convey really much of anything.

Still, I do use the word mediocre in the literal sense, and nothing here struck me as being bad necessarily. The production is good enough that it all sounds perfectly pleasant and there are some catchy guitar riffs and choruses to be found here and there. If I had been listening to it as background music, I might even have convinced myself that this record was a keeper. But outside of the first track "Letter of Love," no song really held my interest from beginning to end. For that reason, although I found it much preferable to 1987's One Good Reason (which proved that without Lowe's production, Carrack quickly moves from mediocre to bad), Suburban Voodoo fails my most fundamental criterion, which is whether I ever see myself wanting to listen to it again. Blue bin!

Pat Boone - "Sings Irving Berlin" (1957)

Rating: 7

I will admit that my knowledge of pre-rock era standards is low, so I really couldn't say whether Pat Boone's covers of Irving Berlin are good, bad, or mediocre versions. I enjoyed the record, and allmusic.com gave it 4.5 stars, so perhaps that should be enough to content me. The melodic phrasing is typical of singers of this time and although I find the style to be a bit dated in the wake of the much more emotional and personal singing of the rock era, it does have a subtle charm that grew on me throughout the course of the album. One benefit of covering the repertoire of a well-known songwriter is that you can filter out the dregs and indeed, this album is blindingly consistent. All this is to say, I liked the record, and although I probably wouldn't feel any need to own two albums of Irving Berlin covers, Mr. Boone currently has no other competition in my collection ensuring that he will avoid the blue bin.

Big Star - "Third/Sister Lovers" (1978)

Rating: 7

Third/Sister Lovers was released well after Big Star had already dissolved, having been recorded four years earlier and then shelved, presumably for its weirdness. And it is a fascinating listen, as Alex Chilton seemingly intentionally subverted the glistening power-pop of their first two records, releasing a chaotic, uncommercial record. Maybe he just said "fuck it" after failing to reach commercial success with two albums that were lovingly crafted just for the radio. Perhaps there was some consolation in the critical acclaim that eventually followed.

I'd like to say that Third is the band's masterpiece, but I can't go that far. Over the course of the album the sound, at first thrilling, becomes somewhat monotonous, and the hooks begin to dwindle (of course, one could argue that's the point, but there are enough songs here that have hooks, albeit strange ones, that I find fault with the ones that don't). Still, the first half of the record is near-perfect and although it may sound jarring at first, further listens reveal that these songs do indeed possess the classic Big Star elements, just twisted and fucked up. "Jesus Christ" has a perverse, sped up carnival organ intro but although it sounds more raw, it still has a chiming riff and soaring chorus that would have fit on their earlier records if not for the lyrics ("Jesus Christ was born today, Jesus Christ was born"). Similarly, "Big Black Car" with a different arrangement could be "Thirteen" from #1 Record, but instead is slowed down to the point where it sounds like it belongs more on the Twin Peaks soundtrack than in the Big Star catalog. 

Whatever Chilton's intentions, Third/Sister Lovers solidified Big Star's critical reputation as a band that was willing to change their artistic identity without sacrificing, and indeed enhancing their emotional power. And that's a good reputation to have.

Big Star - "Radio City" (1974)

Radio City, along with its predecessor, #1 Record, is one of those albums that music enthusiasts and critics all rightly revere, citing its influential qualities, reveling in its blissful pop melodies, etc... Being an avid reader of online music reviews, I felt quite familiar with Big Star before ever listening to their music. Yet I was reminded when listening to the band in the car with my girlfriend that outside of us hardcore rock music buffs, very few people have heard of them. So while Big Star is no doubt overrated by some (isn't every band?), they still deserve to be heard by a wider audience, especially since despite their lack of commercial success, they were no doubt a commercially-oriented band, and thus really aren't that hard to get into compared to a lot of my other lesser-known favorites.

As for the music itself, it is filled with jangly guitars and big hooks, and is no doubt the forerunner for various indie-alternative-pop bands of the 80s and 90s. Lead singer/songwriter Alex Chilton was not just a great tunesmith, but sings with a strained vulnerability that adds an undercurrent of unrest to the songs even while the guitars chime brightly. As a result, the band excels at rocking out (the near 6-minute jam "O My Soul") yet the best song here, "September Gurls," and arguably the best of their career, is a sweet, unforgettable mid-tempo ballad. So if you haven't heard Big Star, get this album! I'm reviewing this one because I was already very familiar with their debut, #1 Record, which is even better, being more diverse and featuring more tear-jerking ballads. On CD, the two albums are commonly packaged together, which is so much the better, since they're basically the same album anyways.

The Beach Boys - "All Summer Long" (1964)

Rating: 8

In my efforts to undo my good work in consigning so many of my records to the blue bin, I keep buying more. Somehow I found myself returning from what was supposed to only be a trip to the bridal expo with seven records on Sunday afternoon. But how can I resist when I can buy classic Beach Boys records for $3?! 

At any rate, in 1964, the Beach Boys had not yet become the Beach Boys of Pet Sounds or Smile. Yet I still find it a damn shame that I grew up thinking of this band as lightweight, for even though the lyrical subject matter indeed fails to extend beyond the topics of cars and girls, Brian Wilson was first and foremost a musical genius. For one side of this record, it's practically perfect, as the gorgeous harmonies are all here as is Wilson's immeasurable gift of melody. The songs are simple on the surface, of course, yet songs like "I Get Around" sound better and better every time I hear them. More detrimental than the lyrical deficits is the fact that the second side consists mostly of boring instrumentals and re-writes of every song on the first side, which is somewhat hard to fathom since the album is only 25 minutes long. Still, All Summer Long is an obvious keeper, and a great record in its own right. But of course, they would only get better! 

U2 - "No Line on the Horizon" (2009)

Rating: 5

It had certainly seemed to me that although U2 is no doubt past their prime, that at least they had settled into being a veteran band that could pump out a decent album every four or five years. No Line on the Horizon, though, kind of sucks, and drawing from the authority of having listened to every single U2 studio album, I declare this to be the worst record they've ever released. Well, at least tied with Pop.

The album is split up into very distinct sections - the first five songs are in the same basic style as How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, if not quite as dynamic and somewhat overlong, but at least this section fulfills the basic prerequisites of good U2 music, anthemic choruses and thick, chiming Edge guitar riffs. The next two songs are basically weaker re-writes of "Vertigo" and "All Because of You" from the last album, and somehow, "Get On Your Boots" (also the lead single!) is just as irritating as "Vertigo." And finally, after that brief and unwelcoming interlude, the band finishes the album with four more songs in the same style as the first five - the difference being that none of these has anything resembling an interesting melody or guitar part, thus ensuring that my final impression of the album is one of utter boredom.

So although the first part of the album is solid, it doesn't even hit the high points of their last two albums, and certainly doesn't make up for six songs in a row that I don't care for at all. But don't listen to me, Rolling Stone gave it five stars, so it must be great! Blue bin all the way.

Bette Midler - "Beaches (Soundtrack)" (1988)

Rating: 3

I probably am not comfortable enough with myself to keep this album even if I did like it. Fortunately, I don't! In fairness, I don't really know much about the movie for which this is the soundtrack, but the album consists of Bette Midler singing a mix of old standards and dated adult contemporary ballads. The most famous song here is "Wind Beneath My Wings," which is the best song Diane Warren never wrote. It has a nice melody, though. Unsurprisingly, the old songs fare better as they have more stripped-down arrangements, the exception being a horrid cover of "Under the Boardwalk," which is of course the first song on the album. But ultimately, there's not a lot to say about this record, and even if it was all covers of old standards, there wouldn't be much point to keep it around. Blue bin!

U2 - "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb" (2004)

For once, U2 did themselves a disservice with their lead single. 8 years later, I still remember the annoying iPod commercials featuring "Vertigo" and cringe. And although probably every song ever is made much worse when edited and chopped into a 30 second product placement, I still think "Vertigo" is pretty terrible and much too reminiscent of their forced postures of the 90s, even if it doesn't have anything to with techno. I'm all for musical diversity, but time has proved that U2 isn't really good at anything besides epic rock songs that aim for nothing less than transcendence. 

And yet, the rest of the album much more resembles All That You Can't Leave Behind. If the 'unforgettable fire' they had in the 1980s is gone, and they at times feel like they're re-writing their best songs, they're also savvy veterans and they know they can't go wrong with a big Edge guitar part and a cathartically building Bono vocal. On songs like "Miracle Drug" and "Original of the Species," I feel that U2 magic all over again. This is also one of their more consistent albums, for once closing on a high note with "Original of the Species" and the stirring "Yahweh," plus nearly every song is memorable on some level. Weirdly, I think that "Vertigo" and the follow-up single "All Because of You" are actually the worst songs on the album, as they both attempt to rock out, which the band hasn't done well since 1984. But when they play to their strengths, which they do for most of the album, they prove that they can still do quality U2.

Pete Townshend - "Empty Glass" (1980)

I found this album at a local vinyl store for $4.00 yesterday, which is part of why I love buying records. I suppose I could have gotten it for free with a few clicks of my mouse, but $4.00 is a small price to pay for actually owning a physical album. At any rate, Empty Glass is the first solo album by Pete Townshend, best known of course as the guitarist/songwriter behind the Who, who I consider to be either the second or third greatest rock band of all time. And although the Who were nearing the end in 1980, Townshend still had quite a bit of creative energy left, as he showcases on this record.

It's not quite as good as the classic Who of course, since the other three members of the band were vital, even if Townshend wrote all the songs. But if you had to pick one member of a great band to go solo, you always want it to be the songwriter, and this album is full of creative melodies and arrangements. At times, it hearkens back to the Who, especially with the occasional tonal shift mid-sing into a plaintive, spiritual bridge like on "Rough Boys." There are also humble, yet bombastic epics like "Empty Glass" but also pure pop that you wouldn't see on most Who records like single "Let My Love Open the Door" and "Keep On Working." 

At any rate, Empty Glass is one of those great pop records that I find myself having a hard time describing in words. How many ways can one say that these songs develop in interesting and unexpected ways, while maintaining instant memorability and emotional appeal? It may sound easy, but it takes genius to write most of the material here, and in 1980, Townshend still had it. Keeper, of course.

U2 - "All That You Can't Leave Behind" (2000)

A quintessential example of a 'comeback' album by a veteran band. On All That You Can't Leave Behind, U2 abandons their electronic experiments of the 90s and returns to the uplifting melodic balladry of albums like The Joshua Tree. And although I always prefer to be a contrarian, the result is undoubtedly their best since 1991's Achtung Baby. In fact, after the first five songs, I wondered if this might be (for me, anyways) U2's long-awaited masterpiece. 

The first four songs I was already familiar with from listening to alternative rock radio in 8th grade as my local DJs couldn't get enough of the fact that U2 had finally returned to their traditional sound. Although I enjoyed them fine at the time, I can now say confidently that these singles are indeed the shit. Though they lack the 'edge' of their 80s work and feel somewhat calculated, it all works. "Beautiful Day" is the best U2-by-numbers song I could conceive of, and "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" and "Walk On" successfully showcase a sweeter side of the band. "Elevation" is probably the precursor of their dreaded iPod jingle "Vertigo" but has the benefit of actually being good. Throw in track #5 "Kite" (another anthemic ballad) and you have a first side that is 95% as good as the first side of Joshua Tree, for although it's not as powerful, this is as melodic as they've ever been.

Unfortunately, having moved past the innovative, fresh stage of their career, it was probably too much to expect that they might have finally found the cure for their notorious front-loading of albums. And in fact, this may be the most extreme example of bad album sequencing in the U2 catalog yet. Almost imperceptibly, the album slides into being pleasant rather than stirring, and then boring rather than pleasant. So I can't quite rank this one on the same level as their more famous albums. But it is definitely a keeper, and the first five songs come highly recommended.

U2 - "Pop" (1997)

Well, it's been a month since I wrote my last review on this blog. So much for putting 'one record a day' in the URL! But due to popular demand, I have decided to end my hiatus by reviewing U2's Pop, an album which I do not own on vinyl and thus can't exactly blue bin. Oh well. Since my blue bin is full anyways, I decided to invent a new conceit for this blog, which is to review the albums I listen to on my iPod on the way to and from work. But don't worry, I plan to continue to review vinyls too!

As for Pop, it continues the U2 trend of the 90s in dabbling with techno and electronica. Although I would strongly hesitate to call this good, I do have to give some credit to the group for not making total asses of themselves with albums like this one and Zooropa. My feeling, and I doubt I am alone in this, is that the strengths of U2 were always the righteous power of Bono and the Edge's thick, textured guitar playing. During their electronic period, these elements were basically gone or severely reduced. Still, whether it was their litany of hip producers of the time, or the Edge proving himself to be a versatile multi-instrumentalist, Pop features a lot of interesting guitar loops and samples and arrangements that frequently shift between moods and textures in a way that seemed beyond the band's grasp in the 80s.

So it's not the electronic music influences that make this a mediocre album, but rather, the fact that the busy arrangements ultimately can't mask what is Bono's weakest set of songs. Apart from the soaring, Joshua Tree throwback ballad "Staring at the Sun," there is little emotional power to be found here, and like even the best U2 albums, the melodies are mostly AWOL. The better songs are interesting mostly for their arrangements (like "MOFO" with its pumped-up bass line), and even some songs that do appear to have a lot going for them ("Discotheque") fail to gel into something cohesive. Still, it's all mostly mediocre to decent, apart from the truly wretched "Miami" (think Bono near-rapping over an industrial dance beat), so I can't get too angry about Pop. But if I could blue bin it, I would.

Culture Club - "Colour by Numbers" (1983)

The definition of guilty pleasure (just look at that album cover!) but I can't deny that Colour by Numbers is a masterpiece of bubblegum pop (as long as we agree that a masterpiece of bubblegum pop probably still can't go beyond a 4 stars out of 5 rating). When I first listened to this record, I did find Boy George's whiny, 'soulful' vocals to be grating and didn't really give it a proper listen. But then "Karma Chameleon" was stuck in my head for long enough that I eventually decided it was worth giving it another chance. And indeed, pretty much every song here is memorable and catchy (in a good way), which satisfies the first (and maybe only) requirement of a great bubblegum record. Shockingly, they summon up some real soul as well on tracks like "Church of the Poison Mind" with great backing vocals from Helen Terry. Anyways, if you've heard "Karma Chameleon" and found it obnoxious, stay away. If you've heard "Karma Chameleon" and found yourself secretly enjoying it, then don't be afraid to pick up Colour by Numbers.

Emerson, Lake & Palmer - "Emerson, Lake & Palmer" (1970)

A keeper, but as I learned the hard way with Yes's Relayer, I wouldn't recommend playing this kind of music at parties. Like any self-respecting music critic who likes ELP (or are there any music critics who like ELP apart from amateur web reviewers?), I do feel conflicted about enjoying their music. And indeed, for about half of the first side of the record, I felt confident that I would be able to break from the shackles of my forefathers and deem this a blue bin album. But I felt the same way when listening to ELP's Tarkus, but eventually came to a grudging acceptance of the record. And lo, the same thing happened here!

For those who have never listened to ELP before, the issue is as following. This is prog-rock at its most proggy, with the music centered around piercing early 70s synthesizer solos. I don't particularly care for Emerson's synthesizer tone, seeing how it's aged about as well as Paul McCartney's voice, and though his playing is technically impressive, it is ridiculously overwrought. But the solos are not played with no greater end in mind. There is a diversity of moods, melodic hooks, and most importantly, the sense that these are actual compositions. Plus there are some piano solos every now and then! And most importantly, this album closes with "Lucky Man," a song which I have no compulsions about liking, and in a weird way, reminds me of Ween's The Mollusk (without the humor, of course). If you ever decide to give ELP a chance, start here.

Boz Scaggs - "Down Two Then Left" (1977)

I listened to Boz Scaggs' most acclaimed album (Silk Degrees) and felt lukewarm about it, so I expected to dislike Down Two Then Left. And I was right! This is not a terrible record, and I admit that the slick L.A. production works well with Scaggs' soul/funk/rock sound. There are some popping bass lines and nearly every track has a decent groove. But apart from "Lido Shuffle," Scaggs is incapable of writing any songs that I find catchy or memorable. Bin blue!

Original Soundtrack - "Arthur" (1981)

Probably the second-greatest album of all time entitled Arthur, but where the greatest album called Arthur would make my top 100 rock albums (the one by the Kinks), I plan to abandon this one in the imminent blue bin purge of 2012 (the bin is finally full!). Although I haven't seen the movie, I did see enough previews for the re-make starring Russell Brand to have very low expectations for this particular soundtrack.

I suppose my expectations were exceeded in that the overall quality of the vocal melodies (and string melodies on the all-instrumental second side) is pretty good. Burt Bacharach still had some talent in 1981, and perhaps, in a completely different context, these solid melodies could have resulted in some actual good songs. Alas, someone in the movie business decided that the ideal performers for these songs would be forgettable 80s acts like Christopher Cross and Ambrosia. The result is the arrangements are about as sappy and generic as possible, from the drooping adult contemporary of Stephen Bishop and Cross to the sub-Toto arena rock of Ambrosia. On the second side, some of the same themes are repeated with instrumental versions, which is preferable, but then again, also generic to the extreme, just with Hollywood classical replacing Hollywood pop-rock. Blue bin!

B.B. King - "Guess Who" (1972)

Slated for blue binning after a thumbs down review from my favorite online album critic (George Starostin), B.B. King's Guess Who became the subject of unexpected controversy in my household when my girlfriend told me that she had randomly played it and loved it and I immediately responded back with a link to Starostin's negative review. Not fair, perhaps, but I really do agree with Starostin a rather large percentage of the time and indeed, my fondness of his reviews no doubt has a lot to do with the fact that we share similar musical philosophies and tastes. 

And the most important musical philosophy we share is to actually listen to the record instead of judging it ahead of time (sounds obvious, but I have long suspected that allmusic.com and Rolling Stone do not always follow this principle). So much as I'd like to steal my friend Jonathan's witty pun about B.B. King standing for 'Blue Bin King' (okay, I already did steal it), I will be keeping this record, not that I wouldn't be anyways even if I hated it. My feeling, for what it's worth, is that G. Star. has a point regarding the fact that there is not a whole lot of guitar played on the record with the arrangements instead dominated by strings and horns. That's not to say that strings and horns are inherently a worse choice, but they are much less distinctive than when King brings out his trusted Lucille. But King is a good enough singer to make up for it, and when he does play guitar, he soars. Still, I will defend Starostin, as I could certainly see that in the midst of reviewing 44 B.B. King albums, this one probably wouldn't stand out.

Allan Rich - "Glass Heart" (1976)

Another candidate for most obscure album I own (no allmusic.com review!), and honestly, I can see why. This certainly isn't the worst album I've ever heard and Allan Rich, whoever he may be, has some modicum of musical talent, with a voice reminiscent of James Taylor and apparently, the ability to play the piano as well. But  as I was able to immediately ascertain from his decision to lead off his record with a Bruce Springsteen cover, Rich fails on Glass Heart to establish any personality, or really anything memorable about him. His sound is most reminiscent of Boz Scaggs - well-produced, soulful, mid 70s pop-rock. But even compared to the incredibly bland soul of Scaggs, Rich's music drifts in and out, any positive impressions fated to wither and perish. Blue bin!

Jimmy Buffett - "Living and Dying in 3/4 Time" (1974)

The best Jimmy Buffett song ever written is "Bananas and Blow." The second best is "Margaritaville." And the third best is "Come Monday," taken from Living and Dying in 3/4 Time. The rest of the record, though, I didn't really care for, even though I listened to it shortly before departing for New Orleans and Mardi Gras to try and get myself in the mood for some casual debauchery. Oh well. I feel that Buffett is occasionally capable of writing a nice melody, but most of his songs rely solely on his persona to sell themselves. And what does it say that his best song wasn't even written or performed by him? Blue bin!

Bread - "Lost Without Your Love" (1977)

I hear no appreciable difference between Lost Without Your Love and Manna, so I really can't explain why allmusic.com gave Manna 4.5 stars, making me wonder if there was something I had missed, and why they gave Lost just 2 stars. What I hear is a band that is quite consistent in their adherence to formula, production value, and gentle melody. Indeed, like Manna, it all sounds perfectly fine, but even after consuming two cups of coffee with breakfast, my reaction to this music is not to cry a lonely tear, but rather, to fall asleep. Blue bin!

Joan Baez - "Gulf Winds" (1976)

By 1976's Gulf Winds, Joan Baez basically sounded like a poor woman's Joni Mitchell. This is something of a shame, since Baez was of course, one of the pioneering, if not the pioneering female singer/songwriter of the folk/rock era of the early 1960s. I know Baez by reputation primarily, so I will assume that she was a lot better in the 60s than what she shows on this album, which has all the hallmarks of bad singer/songwriter music. Little melody, lots of acoustic guitar, 'meaningful' lyrics, and boring singing. I suppose nearly every musical artist produces a bad album if they keep recording long enough, so I won't scrutinize Baez too much for this one. Blue bin!

Bread - "Manna" (1971)

What's in a band name? Is a band named Bread doomed to be bland? Or perhaps most good bands have uninspiring names, and they only sound like good names because they're associated with great music. Indeed, the greatest band of the rock music era has a name derived from a pun that was almost instantly dated. Still, I find there to be something almost onamatopoeic about a band called Bread whose musical specialty is bland soft-rock. 

I will readily confess that I was prepared to be biased against Manna, as the critical reputation of Bread is a poor one, 4.5 star reviews from allmusic.com notwithstanding (I certainly have the impression that any band from the 60s and 70s gets a 4.5 star review for their best album on that site as long as they weren't totally obscure). I was prepared to be grievously offended by the sounds emanating from my speakers, but of course, a band called Bread could never make offensive music. Instead, their music sounds perfectly pleasant and nice, with gentle harmonies and lilting melodies. Perhaps also unsurprising to someone who has diagrammed his musical taste buds as carefully as I have, I simply couldn't find a way to enjoy music this smooth, this calculated. Presented differently, I suspect these songs might have some substance, but as is, it's much more like eating bread than it is like receiving manna. Blue bin!

Kendrew Lascelles - "Earth Fungus and the Stuff of Stars" (1973)

I could find almost no information about this album prior to listening to it (not even on allmusic.com) and so had absolutely no idea what it would sound like when I turned it on. As it turns out, it's a spoken word album. I admit that due to this turn of events, I violated my standard precept of this blog, which is to at least listen to the entire side of the first record (and it indeed only rarely that I don't even bother to flip over the second side). I made it through a track and a half, not because it particularly offended me, but because I was cleaning, so it took me that long to realize that there probably wasn't going to be any music. My philosophy for this blog (and in general) is that lyrics are secondary to the music, something that can enhance or detract from the overall sound, but aren't going to shift a rating more than a half star in either direction (except on rare occasions). So strip out the music, and there's simply nothing I'm really interested in, unless it's a truly renowned poet or Bob Dylan. I can't say that the poetry here was particularly terrible (though as you can probably guess by the album title, it's certainly dated), nor Lascelles' speaking voice undistinguished. But I'm just not interested.

Traffic - "When the Eagle Flies" (1974)

Is it wrong that I am keeping my Steve Winwood solo albums but blue-binning one of his albums with Traffic? Probably not, as When the Eagle Flies was not met with critical acclaim, so should hardly be taken to be representative of the band's peak. Still, the main element that drew me to his much cheesier-sounding solo records was his gift for pop melody, and that is largely absent here. This album consists of largely mid-tempo jazz/blues jamming and sounds cool enough, but subsists at level of pleasant mediocrity. The only song that really caught my ear was "Dream Gerrard," with a cool piano riff, but that one also happens to be 11 minutes long and repeats that riff over and over again. I admit that it is harder for me to judge this kind of music (mostly instrumental) on one listen, so the critical derision this one met with makes me have fewer reservations about dumping this record. But on a basic level, my main criterion for rating is whether something stood out about an album. A lot of albums sound fine, but don't actively engage me either. This one is in that category.

Whitney Houston - "Whitney Houston" (1985)

Even I'm not so crass as to blue bin a Whitney Houston album the day after her death, though indeed her death is what prompted me to review this LP. I have mixed feelings about this album, as the vocals are consistently stellar ("How Will I Know," "Saving All My Love for You") but the production and arrangements are very dated, with a lot of electronic rhythm tracks for the up-tempo cuts and the ballads inevitably arranged in the "I Will Always Love You" mold ("Greatest Love of All"). Ultimately, we will remember Houston more for her voice than for her songs, and though she doesn't show it off nearly as much as I would like, when she does, I am left with no doubt that she was one of the two greatest commercial pop singers of the era, along with Mariah Carey. For me personally, I will always wonder what she could have done with better songs and a less commercial approach, but maybe that's beside the point.

Dan Fogelberg - "Phoenix" (1980)

Despite my frequent disparaging of Mr. Dan Fogelberg, here I am holding on to another one of his records. This album is rather inconsistent in terms of song quality, with a fair amount of the kind of boring soft rock that I most readily associate with him ("Gypsy Wind," "The Last to Know"). But on the other hand, he pulls off some decent, 'harder' rock songs like "Phoenix" and "Face the Fire" (though both are overlong). I think I like the more rocking tracks because really, my main problem with Fogelberg is his wishy-washy 70s singer/songwriter vocal tone that makes his slower songs induce narcolepsy. He is capable of writing a decent melody, but then often loses the emotional pull of the melody with his bland singing. So on a song by song basis, I'm still not entirely sure if this album is worth keeping, but I found myself impressed by the obvious care put into the arrangements of each song as well as the overall flow and presentation of the album as a whole. I guess that's why I always like to give records a chance.

Barbra Streisand - "Stoney End" (1971)

I can't say I didn't try, but perhaps my instinctive bias against Barbra Streisand was too much to overcome, 4.5 star review from allmusic.com aside. Stoney End finds Streisand in a pop-rock, singer-songwriter vein, covering songs by artists like Laura Nyro, Joni Mitchell, and Randy Newman. She performs ably enough, as does her backing band, I suppose. Yet I find that her instinct for theatrical schmaltz is a poor fit for the kind of songs she is singing, and I have professed over and over again my suspicion of the singer-songwriter era begat by Dylan. So although it all sounded pleasant, and I wouldn't call it awful, I didn't find anything to grab onto either. Blue bin.

Vivaldi Ensemble, Tokyo - "Vivaldi Concerto and Beatles Medley" (1977)

I have a hard time applying my typical keeper/blue bin dichotomy to this particular record. On one side, the functionally-named Vivaldi Ensemble, Tokyo plays what they presumably know best - Vivaldi. I have admitted in past posts on this blog that my understanding of how to critique and compare jazz albums is minimal, at least compared to my knowledge of rock. And if anything, my understanding of how to critique and compare classical music is even weaker, especially with regards to differentiating between two performances of the same piece. So while I do find this particular concerto to be an excellent one, I have no real sense of how much credit to assign this particular Vivaldi Ensemble for the performance without closely listening to other performances of the same work.

The second side I certainly can critique as the ensemble takes on a medley of Beatles songs - "Yesterday," "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" and "Michelle." I don't find classical takes on these songs to be particularly revelatory, unfortunately. I'd like to say that McCartney's more sophisticated harmonic palate would lend itself well to classical, and his songs do make more sense in a classical environment than Lennon's. But somehow "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da," easily the worst of the three songs when performed by the Beatles, sounds the best here. The cover of "Yesterday" is in particular a disappointment, plodding along at a turgid pace and losing the yearning of the original. Considering the original "Yesterday" is well known for having string accompaniment, I have to think that the failure here to bring it into a classical music context has to be placed squarely on the shoulders of this Vivaldi Ensemble of Tokyo. 

So is this a record I keep or throw away? On a pure level of artistic merit, I would say blue bin. But I don't have any other recordings of this particular Vivaldi concerto, and for that reason, I do imagine I'll return to this record. Keeper!

John Mellencamp - "The Lonesome Jubilee" (1987)

Way back on November 16, 2011, I promised I would give Mellencamp another chance after blue-binning his album American Fool. That time is now, and indeed as promised by allmusic.com, The Lonesome Jubilee is a marked improvement. I still think that he is a poor man's Springsteen, so I don't love this album. But I can admit that although his range is limited, this is probably the perfect Mellencamp experience. The songs are anthemic without being pretentious, the production is excellent (the album was produced by Don Gehman, who also produced one of R.E.M.'s best records the same year in Lifes Rich Pageant), and there is little filler. There is a lot more instrumental texture on this record, which not only attests to the increased influence of country and blues, but also is what gives the best songs their hooks. I dig this album for the accordion riff of "Cherry Bomb" and the guitar intro to "We Are the People," because really, the choruses aren't that memorable. Okay, I will stop taking potshots at the man formerly known as Cougar because this is a good record. Keeper.

Dan Fogelberg & Tim Weisberg - "Twin Sons of Different Mothers" (1978)

Well, I enjoyed this record much more than I thought I would. I have previously blue-binned records by each of these mustachioed gentlemen, so I didn't think there was any reason to expect better results when the two of them joined forces. Indeed, Weisberg's High Risk may well be one of the most laughable albums I've ever heard (think jazz flute solos over drum machines and synthesizers circa 1985), so I really didn't expect much from this record. 

Okay, it's no masterpiece. But it does do a nice job playing up the duo's relative strengths and staying away from their weaknesses. It's not that I thought Weisberg was necessarily a bad flautist (not that I have any idea what a good flautist would sound like), but that the premise of jazz flute solos in a very 80s context was just such a terrible one. So without the corny electronics, his flute parts immediately sound much, much better. As for Fogelberg, I'm not really a fan of his mushy soft-rock singer-songwriter approach, but most of these songs are instrumental compositions, and the few vocal numbers at least have hooks, which were lacking on the other record I've heard by him (Home Free). Overall, I would say that this record is more pleasant than thrilling, but there is a nice diversity of style, nothing too offensive, and it's rarely boring. So apparently two mediocre musicians is indeed better than one.

Return to Forever - "Romantic Warrior" (1976)

I have enough jazz records on my shelves to know, that despite the album cover, which at first indicated to me that this would be some terrible mid-70s medieval prog record, Return to Forever is in fact a jazz-fusion supergroup consisting of Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, Al Di Meola, and Lenny White. I'd heard of three of the four, so that makes it perhaps the most super of jazz supergroups. Anyways, I don't know if I have much meaningful to say about this record, besides that there's a lot of blistering, but not uninteresting playing from all parties. There are some progressive and medieval tinges, but really, this is just jazz fusion from some of the finest players around of the era.