I’ve been rolling a lot of good
albums from the late seventies lately: Emmylou Harris’ “Quarter Moon in a Ten
Cent Town,” Neil Young’s “Rust Never Sleeps” and now this gem. Less respected
critically than those others, but no less loved by me.
Disc 667 is…. In the Heat of the Night
Year of Release: 1979
What’s up with the Cover? Pat Benatar brushes back her hair, her skin covered
by the lightest sheen from the heat of the night. This picture (and the one below) together
forms part of my earliest awareness of just how sexy a woman could be. I was
only nine at the time, but even I knew something
was going on when Pat Benatar threw her strappy stiletto up on the radiator and
looked at you like this:
Around the same time this album
came out I also remember looking at my first girly magazines (they belonged to
our next door neighbor, and his grandson and I got into them). Thirty-five
years later the naked ladies of Penthouse and May Year have long since faded
from memory, but Pat Benatar can still put some heat in the night just standing
near a window.
How I Came To Know It: I’ve known this album since the year it came out – I
believe my brother bought it. He liked hard rock at the time and at the age of
16, probably appreciated Pat Benatar even more than I did, although I didn’t
realize it at the time.
How It Stacks Up: I have three Pat Benatar albums – her first three,
and I’ll probably get a fourth (“Get Nervous”) before I quit. Of the three I
have, “In the Heat of the Night” is easily the best.
Rating: 4 stars
Pat
Benatar is not just another pretty face. With the first urgent staccato notes
from Neal Geraldo’s guitar on “Heartbreaker”
you know that “In the Heat of the Night” is going to be an energy-infused
record. When Benatar launches into the song with “your love is like a tidal wave” her easy power feels like it could
knock down buildings all on its own. This album bowls you over from the first
bar, and never lets you go.
On top
of it all is that voice. Benatar is so damned tiny that hearing that voice come
out of her feels like it is breaking the law of conservation of energy. There just
shouldn’t be that much big sound in that little person.
The
songs are mostly not written by Benatar, but they are written by a lot of
craftsmen on that front, including Nick Gilder, John Cougar Mellencamp, Alan
Parsons and lead guitarist (and paramour) Neil Geraldo. They are also carefully
chosen to showcase her talent. “Heartbreaker”
is a classic rock song that just climbs and climbs and yet Benatar never loses
any power. On “We Live For Love” she
hits a whole other octave altogether and yet that power burns just as bright, a
100 watt bulb in a Tiffany lamp designed for a 40, throwing colour all over the
room like a musical kaleidoscope.
Amid all
that easy power, Benatar could easily fall into the crooner trap of laying down
a series of soulless runs and vocal gymnastics. Instead she belts it out loud
and proud, infusing what could otherwise have been empty pop songs into pure
rock anthems.
Through
it all, Benatar is unabashedly sexual. Some would say she traded on her beauty
in the video age to make herself famous. It’s true that her beauty helped her
in the video age, but it doesn’t take away from her talent. And besides, when
did being alluring become a crime?
Few
people could sing “Rated X,” a Nick
Gilder song about porn stars, and make it work. Frankly, hearing Gilder do it is a weird and
off-putting experience. ‘Coupled’ with Giraldo’s rough-edged guitar it works,
however. Moreover, Benatar gives this rather silly song some gravitas. In her
hands, the character in “Rated X” is
an independent businesswoman as much as she’s an object of man’s desire.
On “My Clone Sleeps Alone” (one of only two
songs Benatar gets writing credits for) she showcases an alternate future. It
is a false utopia, where everyone lives in harmony, at the cost of all the
passion in their lives. As she puts it in the song:
“No naughty clone ladies allowed
in the eighties
No bed names, no sex games, just
clone names and clone games
And you know and I know my clone
sleeps alone.”
Not high
poetry, but the point is made all the more powerful as Benatar belts it out,
beautiful and intimidating all at once. She isn’t going to hide the sexual side
of herself and as we enter the eighties (at the time – the future!) – we shouldn’t
either.
Speaking
of clones, the album has an undercurrent of science fiction that I appreciate. The
Alan Parson’s Project song “Don’t Let It
Show” was originally on their concept album “I, Robot.” Benatar’s
version adds a depth of sadness and uncertainty that makes it a purely human
plea – or a true tapping into the separation and anxiety what early artificial
intelligence might feel. However you want to hear it.
Pulling
together pop constructions into a rock vibe and adding a seventies sci-fi
aesthetic undertone without the whole thing becoming a hot mess is a tall
order, but “In the Heat of the Night” somehow pulls it off. A big reason for
this is the production, which has just the right amount of modern technique
without resorting to synthesizers.
In fact,
the production is so smooth it could make the album feel contrived like a
Broadway show. I don’t get that experience at all, but I can see how some do. Maybe
they’ll say it is just that I know all the songs so well that familiarity alone
makes me love it. Maybe they’ll say I’m just wrapped around Pat’s finger; that
she’s been giving me that ‘come hither’ look from over by the window for so
long I can no longer resist her.
I still
say that this record is more than a pretty face and a powerful voice – it’s a
rock classic that has stood the test of time.
Best tracks: Heartbreaker, I Need a Lover, My
Clone Sleeps Alone, We Live For Love, Don’t Let it Show, No You Don’t
No comments:
Post a Comment