CD Odyssey Disc 1956: The Monks

I’m fresh off an eventful long weekend that had a little bit of everything. There was even a power failure through most of Labour Day Monday. Growing up I experienced many a power failure, often in the winter and lasting several days. Given this, a few hours without TV on a sunny holiday Monday was no problem at all. I just caught up on some reading and set some time aside for a full and undivided listen to this next record.

Disc 1956 is…Suspended Animation

Artist: The Monks

Year of Release: 1981

What’s up with the Cover? The Monks only have two albums and both feature covers with women dressed up as nuns and showing a lot of leg.

Here we have a 'nun' apparently awakening from cryo-sleep (the “suspended animation” alluded to in the album title). Looks like she’s arrived at her destination based on the space station in the porthole window. We don't know how many light years have passed in her journey across space but fear not: simple black pumps never go out of style.

How I Came To Know It: I like the Monks’ first record “Bad Habits” and through that discovered they’d done a second. However, “Suspended Animation” was devilishly hard to find, suffering from low album sales and – I suspect - a limited release.

Eventually I found it on a double album set with both records and a whole bunch of bonus material called, “No Shame: The Complete Recordings”. That compilation’s album art is just the band standing around looking like early eighties mods.

Choosing between that and the long-limbed space traveler depicted on the original was a no-brainer.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Monks albums, which is all of them. Of the two “Suspended Animation” is the lesser record, so #2.

Ratings: 2 stars

Listening to “Suspended Animation” had me thinking that the Monks were a bunch of slackers. Very talented slackers. Their follow up to their much better debut record, the Monks seem prepared to dabble in various musical ideas like a bunch of cheeky dilettantes. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don’t.

The style of the record is mostly a New Wave/post punk feel that was of its time back at the turn from the seventies to the eighties. A bit Joe Jackson, a bit the Clash at the poppier end of their range, but mostly just a bunch of experienced English musicians taking the piss.

Like the Clash, there is a reggae influence on the record in places, and the Monks also seem determined to try to land some funky bass lines and guitar licks. It would work better if the songs weren’t so uniformly at the front of the beat. That’s the New Wave in them, and they consistently refuse to sit down in the pocket.

So you get songs like “Don’t Want No Reds” that could have been a semi-serious song about Cold War angst but instead feels like a funhouse vision of looming nuclear winter. The haste of the beat makes you think that the reds they are avoiding could just as easily be pharmaceuticals as Communist agents.

From there they uncork a wide array of topics, most of which more than live up to the compilation’s title of “No Shame”. Scheming evangelicals, BDSM enthusiasts, and eating disorders are just a few of the themes you will encounter. There’s a good chance if you listen to this record something will offend you but I’m not going to predict what, as it is a target-rich environment.

This being a “complete recordings” situation the original record’s 12 tracks are ‘augmented’ by eight bonus tracks, pushing the playing time to an unwieldy and tiring 75 minutes. I’d like to say they should have just cut all that content, but the truth is some of it is pretty solid, notably “Cybernetic Sister” which has the easy groove blended with what I think is someone exhorting the virtues of a sex-bot.

Through it all, the Monks know how to write a catchy pop hook. I imagine they take a bit of perverse pride in combining sing-a-long quality to lyrics that would likely get you kicked out of the local karaoke bar.

The final two bonus tracks, “Space Noises” and “Electric Shivers” remove all doubt about who the Monks are mocking. It’s everyone, and with these two instrumentals of weird special effects sounds their final victim is, in fact, the listener.

Sitting confused at the end of the long listening journey, and with the echoes of weird computer trills and metallic clangs bouncing in my head, I was not quite sure what to think. It is the musical equivalent of a Jimmy Carr concert; the catchy phrasing draws you in, you laugh at some parts and wince at others, and the next day you can’t even talk about what you heard in mixed company.

Was it all just performance art in the end? Probably yes.

Best tracks: Don’t Want No Reds, Suspended Animation, King Dong and from the bonus tracks: Cybernetic Sister

CD Odyssey Disc 1841: Linda Ronstadt

I took today off and treated myself to a little record shop. On the walk home I also finished getting in my listen to the next album up for review.

Disc 1841 is…Mad Love

Artist: Linda Ronstadt

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover? Linda caught in the dead of night making a clandestine phone call!

Linda looks very sexy here, suggesting this could be a booty call. However, the record is called “Mad Love” so this could be her calling some guy in the dead of night to tell him that they can be together now "the wife is out of the way”. Oh, and she’s hidden the bloody knife in his house with his fingerprints on it in case he gets any ideas about changing his mind.

I gotta ease up on binge watching “You”…

How I Came To Know It: Over the last five years or so I’ve been doing a deep dive into Linda Ronstadt’s catalogue. Little did I know how hard it was going to be to find it, but eventually it came in a package of reissues, and I snapped it up. I had to “re-buy” some of the other records in there, but no harm done, as the resulting doubles all went to good homes.

How It Stacks Up: When I last reviewed a Linda Ronstadt album I only had seven, but that number has grown to nine, requiring a bit of readjustment. “Mad Love” comes in at #8 (of 9), ahead of “Living in the USA (now #9).

Ratings: 2 stars

Linda Ronstadt has one of those voices that can cross into any genre and be successful. Country, folk, pop and rock and roll all suit her well. She would’ve been awesome in a metal band as well but, alas, this never happened.

What did happen in 1980 was “Mad Love”, Ronstadt’s foray into early eighties pop and New Wave. Remember the Flashdance soundtrack? Well, cross that with everything you know about Linda Ronstadt and you’ll have an approximation of what this record is like.

Now, before you tune out at this notion, I will quickly note that “Mad Love” is better than the Flashdance soundtrack. Just hearing Ronstadt’s power vocals are enough to make it better. There’s a reason she’s got the reputation of one of the all-time vocal greats. Her tone is rich through all the many octaves she can sing in, and she’s equally adept at sounding sweet romantic ballads, angst-ridden dirges, and even a bit of growl when a tougher sound is called for. She meets each genre she tackles on its own terms, honours what makes that kind of music unique, and then uses her instrument to elevate it.

On “Mad Love” it is a hard sell. Early eighties pop has a tinny production and a lot of excess instrumentation in the arrangement. While Ronstadt embraces this sound, it doesn’t allow her to fully showcase what she can do. The transfer to CD does not do the low end of the record any favours either.

Good thing we are talking about Linda Ronstadt. The title track launches with a jump at the front of the beat that will feature on and off throughout the record. This song has an easy anthemic quality that was typical of stadium rock at the time, and while you shouldn’t expect to be wowed with anything original, you should expect to be inspired and lifted. Does this song have one too many organ solos? Yes, it does, but if you think you didn’t have fun listening to it then you may be lying to yourself.

Juxtaposed to this we have the sultry croon of “Hurt So Bad” which is up there competing with the likes of Pat Benatar with its combination of sexy and sultry. Again we have Ronstadt leaning forward into the beat, but rather than feeling rushed, it creates an urgency that matches the song’s themes of longing and desire.

Ronstadt tries this same treatment on Neil Young’s “Look Out For My Love” but here things don’t mesh. This song is meant as a meandering stoner journey, and trying to infuse it with early eighties production makes it feel artificial and forced. It’s not often Ronstadt fails to make a cover her own, but it happens here.

Despite some high points, “Mad Love” did not consistently inspire me. Ronstadt demonstrates she can do anything on this record, but I admit I was left wondering if the effort was worth it.

Best tracks: Mad Love, Hurt So Bad, Justine

CD Odyssey Disc 1791 and 1792: The Paranoid Style

Today we get a two for one review, with a full-length album by the Paranoid Style and then an EP they released the following year. The total is only 16 items and 46 songs, so when I downloaded them through Bandcamp it was a natural fit to turn them into a single listen.

While the listen was combined, I’m still listing them as separate entries. Rules are rules.

Disc 1791 is…Rolling Disclosure

Disc 1792 is…Underworld USA (EP)

Artist: The Paranoid Style

Year of Release: 2016 (Rolling Disclosure) and 2017 (Underworld USA)

What’s up with the Cover? Lead singer Elizabeth Nelson likes sitting down. There is really no occasion that doesn’t call for a good sit down.

Reading a book in the middle of some railroad tracks? Best done sitting – just remember to bring a folding chair; railroad ties can be dirty, and you wore that nice dress.

Feel a bit out of breath on the way up the stairs to your apartment? Another good opportunity for a sit. These stairs could also be dirty, but stairs are generally more conducive for a good sit than railroad ties, so by all means, take a seat.

Spoiler alert, future reviews are currently 67% likely to feature Nelson sitting somewhere. The woman sits a lot.

How I Came To Know It: Earlier this year I discovered the Paranoid Style through a review of their 2024 release, “The Interrogator” I read on Pitchfork. I instantly loved their sound and began digging through their back catalogue.

It is all available on Bandcamp, which is where I got these two albums. Unfortunately, they don’t seem inclined to release on CD, so it had to be a download. Nobody’s perfect…

How It Stacks Up: I have five Paranoid Style albums, including one EP. Of those albums I put “Rolling Disclosure” in at #5 and “Underworld USA” at #2.

Ratings: Rolling Disclosure: 3 stars; Underworld USA: 4 stars

Rolling Disclosure:

Rolling Disclosure is the Paranoid Style’s first album, but from the first notes you can tell this is a band who knows what they are about. Fully formed, like Athena being born directly out of Zeus’ head, the Paranoid Style lock in early to their sound.

That sound is a punk garage rock combined with frenetic New Wave that felt like the second coming of Blondie. Not derivative, but more the inheritor of that sound. The music often sits in front of the beat (as New Wave is wont to do) but it also utilizes that post-disco sway that Blondie evokes.

Elizabeth Nelson’s voice is a low register vibrato, and carefully enunciated words that are the paragon of phrasing and timing (another must-have for New Wave style sound, lest it drag).

Paranoid Style songs never drag, and I found myself breathlessly anticipating what Nelson was going to sing about next. In this regard, the Athena reference is doubly apt, with songs that are a word soup of phrases and images that have no business being successfully sung into a bar of music, and yet somehow work anyway.

Case in point, the opening track, “The Ambassador’s Morning Lift” (one of many songs with long complicated titles), featuring such clever turns of phrase as “It’s useful to keep up disappearances” that trips by so fast you might miss it the first time, and then you deliciously anticipate it on future listens. That’s the pop centre to all of the Paranoid Style’s punk coating.

“Giving Up Early (On Tomorrow)” makes the chorus the most interesting line (and the title). For anyone who has ever had a night out where you set out to make bad drink decisions, and early morning starts be damned. Or maybe it isn’t alcohol fueled at all, just an internally generated existential crisis. This is the song for both those things. It also has a line:

“I was caught somewhere between
Jupiter and Apollo
And tonight I'm giving up early
On tomorrow” 

That had me thinking about that Athena thing all over again.

My biggest issue with “Rolling Disclosure” is the production, which is a bit too garage-y for my tastes. This is clearly deliberate and speaks more to my biases than anything wrong. Nevertheless, I found the mix was a bit too muddy, taking away from the sharp and witty delivery of Nelson’s lyrics.

Underworld USA

Underworld USA gives us more of the same New Wave/punk crossover we were introduced to on “Rolling Disclosure”, but overall a consistently higher quality of both songwriting and production.

For production, things are crisper and the backing band gets a greater chance to shine, which they put to good use, and the arrangements are a bit more thoughtful overall. Is it less punk as a result? Maybe, but not in a bad way.

For songwriting, the Paranoid Style add in elements of hard rock and sixties pop into their mix. It doesn’t change the overall flavour of what they do, but presents a few more layers and makes the songs each stand out more individually.

The opening and title track explore the grubby underbelly of corporate America or maybe politics (the band does hail from Washington DC) or maybe some combination of both. This track, and many that follow on “Underworld USA” aren’t afraid to use the clever wordplay to twist the knife into institutional malaise.

My favourite bit of beat poetry (which is a bit what it sounds like to listen to Nelson sing) is this stanza from “Dominoes in Drag”:

“Making short work
Of a long night
In your slit skirt
With your steak knives
With the stakes high”

This song ranges all over, but this glitzy but predatory descriptor of a fancy dinner event rings out with apocalyptic beauty. Fun fact – later in the song they once again reference Apollo!

The album ends with “Revision of Love” which is more of a seventies barroom banger, converted into a critique of economic models, philosophy and the whys and wherefores of making art, ostensibly wrapped around writing a song about some woman named Loretta. Like most Paranoid Style songs, there is a lot going on here, and the dense and fast-moving imagery requires multiple listens, but the effort is worth it.

Even if you decide you don’t want to explore just why that guy Apollo keeps showing up, or to go learn more about Pascal’s Wager (also referenced), you’ll still have fun, because the music is fucking great.

Best tracks (Rolling Disclosure: The Ambassador’s Morning Lift, Giving Up Early (On Toorrow), Daniel in the Basement

Best Tracks (Underworld USA): Underworld USA, Dominoes in Drag, Hawk vs. Prez, Dedicated Glare, Revision of Love, 

CD Odyssey Disc 1785: Pylon

Happy American Thanksgiving! After a short but very hard week at work, I have taken today off (as is my tradition) to relax and watch American football.

Despite all the coming festivities of the day, I awoke to find myself out of sorts. After a failed and feeble attempt to sleep in, I’ve decided to engage in a little writing therapy. The result, Gentle Reader, is this humble entry in this ongoing CD Odyssey thing I do.

Disc 1785 is…Gyrate Plus

Artist: Pylon

Year of Release: 1980 (the Plus part 2007)

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure. Given the band’s name, my first thought was it had to be a pylon, but it just looked more like a hat.

So I asked Sheila. She took a hard look and after a moment declared “hat,” confirming my initial bias. So I’m going with ‘hat’. Four hats, in fact.

Also, in case you’re wondering this is the CD cover; that ring of “record damage” you see is an artistic affectation which does not appear on the original vinyl. Unless of course, you store your records poorly. Then it will appear.

How I Came To Know It: For the second straight review, this is a record I discovered after reading about it in a “best of” article on Paste Magazine. This time it was “Best 50 New Wave Albums” although knowing Paste, the list might’ve been shorter when they first posted and they’ve added to it.

Either way, I dug through the various records I didn’t know and again found a few that appealed, including “Gyrate”.

How It Stacks Up: Pylon released three albums in their short career, but I’ve only got the one, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

When does anxiety feel good? The answer, dear readers is “almost never”, but listening to “Gyrate” is the exception that proves the rule. This record wraps its anxious beats and shrieks in music that makes you want to dance the tension away. Never has foreboding felt more relaxing.

For those who’ve arrived looking for some folk/rock/indie situation, you are about to be disappointed. Pylon is a New Wave/Punk crossover and the guitar you’ll hear is mostly employed as either doing some strange accent sounds or serving as yet another piece of percussion. Beats and bass lines rule these waters.

And lest you think that water reference implies some tranquil latter-day Pink Floyd shit, let me disavow you of such notions. These waters are choppy, and while the forward lean of the beat and the overall production of this record are New Wave in flavour, the visceral attack applied is pure punk rock. “Gyrate” doesn’t straddle the two styles so much as demonstrate that they descend from a common ancestor.

Singer Vanessa Briscoe Hay is exactly what these songs call for, as she spits out a repetition of phrases that eschew telling a tale in favour of setting a mood. More often than not that mood involves a lot of nervous energy. Something is happening, but the details are dismissed in favour of how that something makes you feel.

Case in point, “Dub”, where Hay repeatedly sing/shouts “I’ll redouble efforts” over the beat. What is this redoubling of effort regarding? Wrong question! This is a song about the emotional toil of redoubling efforts, of the internal demand we place on ourselves when we undertake such a redoubling. Leave those details to the troubadours!

“Dub” is a song you won’t get on the original “Gyrate”. My copy is the 2007 re-release named “Gyrate Plus” with bonus content. The additions are all contemporaneous with the original record, and equally good, so their presence is surprisingly seamless. It’s a good thing, too, because Pylon doesn’t do the usual “tag ‘em on as bonus tracks” game. They put two at the front of the record, two at the back and scatter a final pair through the middle. I think it makes the record better, and I expect only the limitations of vinyl in 1980 prevented something similar then.

“Yeah”, you sneer, “but can you dance to this stuff?” First of all, there is no need to sneer, but yes you can totally dance to it. Just don’t expect to bust out your best disco moves. This music is for a lot of ping pong dancing and getting your thrash on. Not in the aggressive metal style (also cool) but in that insular, introverted “we’re all dancing alone together – don’t look at me!” kind of way that punk has always been great for.

Some of the songs are a bit lighter in the arrangement and others more approaching hard core, but they all have a similar tempo and feel. This causes the record to blend together as a single listening experience, which is good and bad. On the good side, you can just sink into “Gyrate” and enter a kind of fugue state of elemental emotion that you likely won’t emerge from until almost an hour later. On the bad side, if you aren’t fully in the moment, you may emerge early and wonder, “is it done yet?”

This is the one downside to the “Plus” on the “Gyrate Plus”. It pushes the record to 16 songs and almost 60 minutes of music. It left me thinking that it may be better to just leave some of that excess in the studio, but it just feels wrong to pull any piece out of the record. It’s all good. Remarkable given it is a record with stuff added in.

Best tracks:  Cool*, Dub*, Volume, Feast on My Heart, Weather Radio, Danger, Working is No Problem, Stop It

*only on the “Plus” version of the album. All others, from the original

CD Odyssey Disc 1719: Josie Cotton

I gave this next record a full week’s worth of listening, which is much more exposure than a record often achieves on the CD Odyssey. Part of this was how busy I was, but there was also an element of just wanting to dive a little deeper. This is always a good sign.

Disc 1719 is…Day of the Gun

Artist: Josie Cotton

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover?  Josie in splashes of vibrant colour and a funky hat festooned with feathers. This is so delightf...wait a minute! What the fuck is that blue thing on her lap?

A creepy plastic blue baby has invaded this whimsical scene. The shadow they cast looks perfectly organic, hiding the baby’s true nature. Maybe that’s the idea here, but for me the shadow and the reality are equally creepy.

How I Came To Know It: This was me digging through Josie Cotton’s back catalogue on Bandcamp. I don’t buy everything Cotton releases but I like her well enough to give everything a chance.

How It Stacks Up: I’ve bought two more Josie Cotton albums over the past year and now have five total. Of those five, “Day of the Gun” comes in at #2 and is in a statistical tie for #1 with “Convertible Music”. Previous expressions of love for “From the Hip” are still true, but I must drop that record down to #3.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

Last time I reviewed a Josie Cotton album I ended up giving it a whole week’s worth of listening and on “Day of the Gun” this happened again. Despite the lighthearted beat of her music, and the youthful enthusiasm of her vocals Cotton’s stuff demands a deeper dive.

Even as she edges toward 70 years old Cotton has lost none of her talent. If anything, she is more creative than she’s ever been. Early records like “Convertible Music” and “From the Hip” are beautiful, but they are largely about the obvious rock and roll topics of restless love. Cotton has let her interests broaden across a variety of topics. You can tell that underneath the pop sensibilities of her music she is well-read, intellectually curious and just generally smart as hell.

On “Day of the Gun” she explores multiple literary and cinematic topics. At times I could pick up the references, and at others she was either making it up herself, or just out-referencing me on the song’s original inspiration.

On “Overturning” Cotton turns her mind to culture in decline, while at the same time celebrating western literary and mythological traditions. In slightly over three minutes she pays homage to Yeats’ “the Second Coming”, Shelley’s “Ozymandias”, the legend of Theseus and the minotaur, before rounding it off with reference to the music of the spheres. If you don’t know even some of those references, go look them up. As Cotton wistfully notes, “there was beauty/there was madness”. There still is, Josie.

She also turns her mind to cinema, with “Painting in Blood” an homage to the Giallo horror films of the seventies. Mangling, blood, murder by gloved assailants. You name the Giallo theme, she’s got it in this murderous little love letter.

“The Fathomless Tale of Silky and Sam” is indeed fathomless. Could be from a book, could be from a movie, or could just be from Cotton’s exceptional imagination, it tells of an interdimensional spider creature bonding with a person in a parasitic (or symbiotic) way. I think a bit of both. It’s confusing, but in a delightful way.

Stylistically, the album is a mix of New Wave and Rockabilly (the latter being given much love in “The Ballad of Elvis Presley”). Cotton was never a powerhouse vocalist, but she’s lost nothing in her delivery, and she writes songs that suit her style and range such that you never notice.

As a fellow lover of multiple genre fictions (spies, horror, science fiction) it is great to hear a pop artist also embrace these themes, and to do it so well. Cotton is a thoughtful songwriter who won’t limit herself to yet another ballad of unrequited love. This later career fearlessness is never better than on “Day of the Gun”, which is her best work in years and which vies for her best work ever. I’d encourage her to never stop doing what she does, but it is clear she doesn’t need my advice on this front.

Best tracks: Day of the Gun, Overturning, The Ballad of Elvis Presley, Painting in Blood, Cold War Spy

CD Odyssey Disc 1680: Alphaville

I was so convinced I’d already reviewed this album I’d already removed it from my Walkman. I guess I’ve just known it for so long now it feels familiar. In any case, I got it re-loaded and finding myself with an extra day off, gave it a couple of listens today.

Disc 1680 is…Forever Young

Artist: Alphaville

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover?  Giant Head alert! In this case the giant head appears to have encountered Medusa.

How I Came To Know It: This was a record in my wife’s music collection when we met. She’s known it dating all the way back when it was first released, when she bought it on vinyl after hearing a few of the songs on an American radio station. When we met, she introduced it to me on CD and it has been our home rotation ever since.

Only last month she gave the vinyl copy away to our friend, Chris. So her gift of this band just keeps on giving!

How It Stacks Up: This is our only Alphaville record, so it can’t stack up.

Rating: 4 stars

Eighties synth-pop is not usually my thing, but there is no denying greatness and on “Forever Young” that is exactly what Alphaville deliver.

This music is driven by beat, bass and synthesizer which makes for a lot of bops, beeps and thumps. I was bracing for this to feel clunky and emotionally disconnected but that is not at all what happened. Alphaville use these tools like master craftsmen, weaving it all together to create fascinating syncopation delivered concurrently with compelling pop melodies.

Are there weird percussion sounds banging away here and there? Fake handclaps and faux horn sections? You bet there are, and plenty of it. There are even some real string instruments that left me guessing what was false and what was real (I liked it both ways). Regardless of how they make the notes, every beat, bang and artificial bit of brass fits intricately together to make beautiful music.

The record begins with the ultra-Gothic “A Victory of Love” an initially moody piece of music that slowly increases in tempo and intensity. The tune is perfectly paces, building its intensity until finally, at the melody’s highest point, it ends. It made me want a cigarette.

Later the band twirls its techno-groove around from the very beginning. “Big in Japan” has a structure that just makes you want to prance and spin in the lights of a big city. Currents of Japanese musical structures collide with German New Wave to create something that is both mysterious and eminently danceable. The song has a darkness about the lyrics, but there is a wild celebration of dark excess laced through it. It is a song for partying a bit too late, but making sure you’re home before the sun rises, to ensure the mystery of it all is maintained under cover of night.

“Fallen Angel” has the band returning to a Gothic element. With David Bowie style vocals, and well-timed hand claps the song has a “devil-may-care” quality. This makes sense, since the lyrics imply the song’s subject is either a vampire, a succubus or maybe that Scarlett Johansson sex alien from that “Under the Skin” movie.

The album’s clear hit is the title track, which feels like one of those songs everyone knows, but no one knows who does the original. Well, it is Alphaville, and the song is brilliant. Filled with a poignant call for youth and the way its promise can hold back a dark and uncertain world. Against it all, this song finds time to explore the fears of nuclear disaster:

“Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?”

A German band in 1984 would have the most “ground zero” perspective of this experience, and Alphaville nail it; a combination of dread and the willingness to look past that dread and find a flicker of hope at two minutes to midnight. Inspiration and despair in equal measure.

In short, “Forever Young” was a welcome way to spend the middle part of my day, looking out at the rainy world and enjoying unfamiliar and artificial sounds, made human and beautiful through art.

Best tracks: A Victory of Love, Big in Japan, Forever Young, Fallen Angel, The Jet Set

CD Odyssey Disc 1670: Echo and the Bunnymen

I have the day off and so, gentle reader, you are treated to a review a day early! Sadly our streak of four-star albums is over, but this next record is still a good one.

Disc 1670 is…Crocodiles

Artist: Echo and the Bunnymen

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover?  A group of disaffected English youths sitting around in the woods. This group have left their car headlights on, presumably to aid in their intended frolic among the autumn leaves. It will be a long walk home once the battery dies.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve heard of this band for a long time, but never checked them out until my friend Nick bought me this record as a birthday present several years ago. Thanks, Nick!

How It Stacks Up: I have two Echo and the Bunnymen albums, and “Crocodiles” comes in second place.

Rating: 3 stars

I imagine that Echo and the Bunnymen were a broody lot to go to high school with. A lot of trench coats and sallow faces from not getting enough sun. However, they were also the kids that if you got to knew them were pretty interesting, if a little awkward once the crowd got too big.

“Crocodiles” is Echo and the Bunnymen’s first album, but it demonstrates a surprising level of musical innovation and maturity. The record feels fully formed, and I immediately got the impression the band had a solid vision. Sometimes debut albums are exploratory as the band tries to figure out who they are. “Crocodiles” is the youthful energy of a band who knows exactly where they’re going. Or at least that’s how it seemed to me – I generally approach art in as non-biographical a way as possible.

The record has elements of punk rock in it, but it is punk rock desperately wishing it were New Wave, if it could just shake off all that sadness. They never do shake it off, but that’s OK, because that is a big part of what draws you in. The rawness is an open wound that you don’t immediately want to bandage because it is fascinating just watching the blood well up.

There is an effort in here to be anthemic, but the anthems are absentminded, and distracted, defined more by Les Pattinson’s amazing work on the bass than anything going on in the guitar or vocals. It isn’t driving music, it’s music for sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the side window and watching the English countryside flow by. There was a part of me that kept waiting to be swept up into the experience, but it isn’t music designed to do that. It’s an ocean of sound, but it is not for swimming so much as being submerged.

Production-wise there is a lot going on. Bells tinkle here and there, and the drums, guitar and bass often feel like they’re having a friendly competition to find space rather than cooperating to play a tune. It is a testament to the band’s talent that this sometimes-discordant approach to the arrangements ends up as something cohesive.

I should note at this point that this is NOT how I usually like my music arranged. I prefer straight-no chaser arrangements and the deliberately jarring compositions are against my inclinations. At the same time, I couldn’t deny they know what they’re doing.

Lyrically I didn’t love it, and I had a hard time sorting through the mix to hear what lead singer Ian McCulloch was getting on about. The exception was “Villiers Terrace” which sounds like a rager of a party, with a lot of ill-advised drug use. What’s going on up at Villiers Terrace, you ask? – this sort of thing:

“People rolling 'round on your carpet
Biting wool and pulling string
You said people rolled on carpet
But I never thought they'd do those things”

It sounds like a few hangovers in the morning, and maybe one or two people at the hospital getting all that wool pumped out of their stomachs.

I dig Pattinson’s bass on this tune as well, and as I re-familiarized myself with “Crocodiles” I realized that the more I focused on the bass the more enjoyable the record became.

Despite all the innovation, I found this record hard to relate to an emotional level. Admittedly my listens happened while I was out running and out driving, and neither experience lends itself to this style of music. While Echo and the Bunnymen have the angst down good and proper here, I needed a bit more genuine heart at the core of the experience. Still good by virtue of the innovation and musical wizardry, but short of great.

Best tracks: Going Up, Villier’s Terrace, Happy Death Men

CD Odyssey Disc 1612: Josie Cotton

I am still doggedly working on my “Best of 2022” Top 10 (I am down to a shortlist of 19). However, while I buy a lot of new music every year, I also buy a fair bit of “new to me” music. Those albums are not counted as they were released in prior years, but I don’t love discovering them any less. This next review is an example of that, having “discovered” this artist 40 years late.

Disc 1612 is…Convertible Music

Artist: Josie Cotton

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover?  This cover is the nexus of classy lady and classic car. With apologies to Billy Ocean, get out of my dreams and er…I’ll get into your car. My car is faster than this one, but this one has the advantage of Josie Cotton in a minidress, so I will happily forego the horsepower.

How I Came To Know It: I was looking for the Valley Girl soundtrack as a gift for Sheila (for that story, see Disc 1558). It was hard to get and so I started looking for the artists from the soundtrack, thinking maybe I’d recreate it myself as a grand romantic gesture of some sort. Like Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything, for people who don’t own a ghetto blaster, or “Beautiful Maria of My Soul” in the Mambo Kings, but for people who can’t write their own music.

Anyway, I digress. The important thing is that I stumbled on Josie Cotton’s Bandcamp site, downloaded two digital albums, and bought a third on CD hard copy. That last one is “Convertible Music.”

How It Stacks Up: I have three Josie Cotton albums and competition is close, but I’ll put “Convertible Music” in at #1.

“Convertible Music” sits at the intersection of fifties rockabilly and New Wave, top down, revving its engine and daring you to have some summer fun. The vehicle is a bit dated and of its time, but just like the car on the cover, that is part of its charm.

On later records, Cotton shows a propensity for trying on different musical styles, and even her sophomore record, “From the Hip” has more influences and nuance. On “Convertible Music” you get an artist clearly in love with sixties pop, refreshed with modern eighties energy. The best example of this is the opener. “He Could Be The One” was also featured on the Valley Girl Soundtrack. It is infectious and hearkens to a simpler time, when people danced in their socks and boys and girls shot demure looks from the bleachers at one another.

While the influences are clear, so is Cotton’s enthusiasm. Her vocals won’t make your spine tingle or raise any neck hair, but she has a natural knack for phrasing and can sit down in the front of the beat’s pocket in a way that energizes the songs.

It is worth mentioning that this record has some Grade A handclap action. Everyone knows a song is always improved with some well-placed handclaps, and on “Convertible Music” we get handclaps at the height of their power in multiple songs. I am a sucker for the single clap, then the triple clap-clap-clap approach, but any handclaps will do.

I prefer Cotton as she experiments on later albums, but there is something special about “Convertible Music” that draws you in. The innocence of a bygone era, with lyrics that hint that that era was never innocent after all. She reminded me favourably of the Shangri-Las, but less biker and leather and more hot rod and poodle skirt. In the end the sunny vibe of this record fully won me over.

The album has a distant sound that was frustrating. This could be bad eighties production, or just the inevitable loss of fidelity taking tunes recorded for analog and putting them on digital. Also, don’t expect any grand philosophical explorations, as the emotional content of the songs subsist on simple topics like, “I’m in love”, “I’m jealous” and “Let’s party!” However, there is a time and a place for this kind of music as well, particularly when it is done with honest intentions and a hint of edge.

Overall, I had fun listening to this record, and it ultimately led me into even more Josie Cotton records. I’m not quite swooning with fanboy praise, but I’m happy I got in the car.

Best tracks: He Could Be The One, Rockin’ Love, Johnny Are you Queer, Another Girl, Bye Bye Baby

CD Odyssey Disc 1588: The Buggles

Cat update – Vizzini’s blood pressure is still high but down out of the danger area. However, his vision has regressed again, and he is once again functionally blind. This plus work has made for a very long week, and I’ve had to focus a bit on lowering my own blood pressure. Finally rolling a good record to review helped. Here it is.

Disc 1588 is…. The Age of Plastic

Artist: The Buggles

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover?  This cover speaks of the future! Behold that digital font and the way that ‘buggle’ has been plugged into the network like some kind of replicant or cyborg.

Interesting that the Buggles predicted man/machine interface for the future, but not high-resolution imaging. Predicting the future is tough. That’s why in mythology it usually takes a three-woman team to get it done right.

How I Came To Know It: Like everyone not living in a cave in the eighties, I knew the hit “Video Killed the Radio Star”. Like 99% of the population, I never thought to look into the record until I saw a reference to it on a list of some sort or other (albums from 1980, New Wave albums…I forget). Anyway, I decided to give it a listen and liked what I heard.

Then it became devilishly hard to find on CD, as some of this early eighties stuff is. Once again good ole Japan came through for me, with this re-issue.

How It Stacks Up: The Buggles released two albums but I only have this one. I have listened to the other but it is not my cup of tea and won’t be getting a review. Since the one album on its own can’t stack …on to the review.

Ratings: 4 stars

The Buggles will be remembered for one of pop music’s greatest songs, and for little else. This is unfair, but as Sheila remarked to me earlier this week, “Video may have killed the radio star, but you know what else does that? Only having one hit single.” True words, but since we’re here, let’s give that one hit the love it receives, and then get into the rest of the record, for the love it is denied.

First, the song. “Video Killed the Radio Star” was the first song ever played on MTV, and while the song’s subject made it a natural choice, you can bet the producers also picked it because it is so damned good. It is a perfect pop song in all respects.

It has all the hallmarks of what makes a pop hit great. First, the hook is exceptional; an anthemic sing-a-long of the song title that is easy to keep up with, and with an arrangement that keys up even the most amateurish among us to locate the timing. On top of that, we put that cutsey “oh-wah, oh-wah” that is delightful to hear, and better still to coo alongside. In essence, the song has not one, but two irresistible hooks.

Even the arrangement is amazing. The song ends with the dreaded fade-out, but mid-fade the Buggles insert an additional off-time refrain of “radio sta-a-ar…” that literally makes you want to listen until the very last note.

OK, so that’s the hit, but what about the rest of the record? Can you count on a similar experience? The answer is both yes and no.

Yes, the record has some cool melodies, but it will take you a few listens to sink in, as the Buggles double down on their love of futuristic synthy sounds. This record is meant to sound like the future, and the robotic, metallic quality of a lot of the tunes takes some getting used to. However, it is well worth the effort.

This effort ranges from the relatively straightforward “Ellstree” which has a fairly standard structure, and some lovely piano, but with vocals on the verses that have a metallic filter which makes you wonder if there is some robot love involved. The chorus reassures you, it is good old fashioned human love, albeit in the New Wave disconnected kind of way that was a burgeoning scene in 1980.

Later, songs like “I Love You (Miss Robot)” throw off any vestiges of accessibility. This is a song for reclining on plastic furniture, or maybe taking futuristic pills while being taxied about in a flying car. The first listen this song was decidedly weird, but on future listens it gets better and better as your ear adjusts to the weird and wonderful soundscapes the Buggles create.

That is a microcosm for the record. When you first hear it, you’re not sure what to make of it, but the longer you listen the more you appreciate its brilliance. The way the band mixes in traditional instruments (piano, violin, bass) alongside synthesizer and voice modulation is inspired. “Living in the Plastic Age” and “Johnny on the Monorail” are two standouts. “Johnny on the Monorail” in particular will give you the breathless joy of what it must feel like when you take on of those Tron motorcycles through a tight curve, laying a beam of solid neon light behind you.

In short, this record is a hidden treasure that deserves the same kind of love that its hit single receives. All you have to do is let it in. Like a neural shunt, it feels a bit weird at first, but once you’re plugged in, it is pure immersive joy.

Best tracks: Living in the Plastic Age, Video Killed the Radio Star, Kid Dynamo, I Love You (Miss Robot), Elstree, Johnny on the Monorail

CD Odyssey Disc 1561: Howard Jones

I’m in the middle of a weekend that has included gathering with friends and a rousing game of Ultimate that was in no way ruined by a little rain. Now I’m going to write a music review and then spend a quiet evening playing boardgames with my favourite person. Life is good.

Disc 1561 is…. Dream Into Action

Artist: Howard Jones

Year of Release: 1985

What’s up with the Cover? I have a vintage bathrobe that looks a lot like Howard’s jacket but unlike his, mine does not summon the spirits of the Neon Five.

Jones’ thoughtful expression shows that he’s come to realize that invoking the powers of the Five while initially gratifying, has become a curse, as they bring his dreams to life by siphoning off the energy of those closest to him.

Some people would say I’m reading an awful lot into this album cover, but some people have a lot of growing up to do.

How I Came To Know It: I knew a few of these songs as a teenager, but I didn’t like any of them. Sheila is a fan, however, and asked me to find this album for her on my CD shopping journeys, and so here it is.

How It Stacks Up: We have two Howard Jones albums, this one and 1984’s “Human’s Lib” (reviewed back at Disc 892). Of the two, I put “Dream Into Action” in at #2.

Ratings: 3 stars

I did not like Howard Jones back in 1985. The music felt artificial and directionless to me, with a metallic-sounding eighties production that was hard to swallow. However, many decades have passed since I was a lad, and having the opportunity revisit his work as an adult has been a pleasant surprise.

Those elements of Jones’ sound that I didn’t like when this was first released haven’t gone anywhere but I now see how for the most part they fit well with the overall vibe he is creating. Case in point the opening track, “Things Can Only Get Better”. This thing is thumping around with keyboard, drum machine and all manner of dubious additions, but it all works well together. I also find it mystifying how the teenage me couldn’t get behind the infectious “whoa-whoa-whoa” that serves as the intro to the chorus. If you don’t want to ‘whoa whoa whoa’ along with Jones in those moments something is seriously wrong with you.

The record’s best song (also a hit) is “No One is to Blame” which showcases something else I never noticed in the day: Howard Jones’ vocals. He sings with a light and easy power that infuses that that hollow production with emotional resonance. Here he reminded me favourably of Blue Rodeo’s Jim Cuddy.

Both those songs were hits (the record had several) but I didn’t love all the commercially successful songs. “Look Mama” has an “aimless orchestra” feel to it where it all the various sounds had me imagining a big band where everyone was playing a different tune. “Life in One Day” has that scourge of so much mid-eighties music, the steel drum. Like the saxophone, a little steel drum goes a long way, and “Life in One Day” features a lot of steel drum. The song also has a Disney musical quality to it that felt a bit too “destined for Broadway” for my liking.

Elsewhere on the record we are treated to the frantic syncopation of “Automaton” and the overwrought “Elegy”. The former seems feckless and insincere. The latter’s mix of synth and sincerity lands in the No Man’s Land between early Enya and eighties Queen, while failing capture the magic of either.

The CD release of the album features two bonus tracks. First up is the weird pseudo-rap of “Bounce Right Back” that feels about as authentic as instant coffee.

Much better is “Like to Get To Know You Well” which was released originally the year prior as a single (and radio hit). This song has aged beautifully and while it is synth forward, there is no denying the energy of this tune, that had me wanting to eighties-dance around the room (I may have briefly succumbed to the temptation).

Overall, “Dream Into Action” is a mixed bag. It features some tracks that are true classics of eighties New Wave, but these are mixed in with overly clever songs that fall down under the weight of directionless production. On balance, I still enjoyed the experience, and must politely disagree with my overly critical teen self.

Best tracks: Things Can Only Get Better, No One is to Blame, Like to Get to Know You Well

CD Odyssey Disc 1558: Valley Girl Soundtrack

Tonight there is a lunar eclipse but given the current cloud cover there may no viewing it. While we wait to find out let’s have another album review, shall we?

Disc 1558 is…. Valley Girl Soundtrack

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 1983 (although technically this is a 1994 compilation)

What’s up with the Cover? That eighties thing where you wore short frilly socks and high heel pumps. I think this look has aged well and is due for a comeback!

How I Came To Know It: My wife Sheila introduced me to the movie last year. It is a fun film, but Sheila also loves all the New Wave style music featured. Unfortunately, that soundtrack is very hard to get. There were copyright issues back in 1983 which prevented it ever being released, and while there are a few illegal copies of the original floating around, forget about finding one.

Enter Rhino records, who in 1994 secured the rights to most of those songs and released this 15 track edition. Even this record is very hard to find, but I was determined and when I finally saw a copy I bought it as an anniversary present. It cost me $75 US but I regret nothing! I did it for love!

How It Stacks Up: I have a LOT of soundtracks. 37 in total. Valley Girl holds up well in that crowded field. I’m going to rank it at #13, just behind “Xanadu” and just ahead of “Into the Wild”

Ratings: While soundtracks are technically compilations, I rate them anyway. Valley Girl gets three stars.

Soundtracks are best when the music has a unifying sound to it. “Saturday Night Fever” introduced the mainstream world to disco; “The Harder They Come” has Caribbean soul/reggae pulling it together. Or you can just have Queen do the whole thing (“Highlander”, “Flash Gordon”).

Valley Girl’s vibe lands in the New Wave movement of the early eighties. Like other good soundtracks that cohesive approach to song choice puts you in a certain mood, rather than feeling like you’re being marketed a bunch of random hits. The minor miracle here is the film had to cut and overdub a whole bunch of songs after failing to secure the rights to them. By having to step slightly more toward obscure artists may have even improved the soundtrack. This Rhino compilation captures all the best and heavily featured tunes from the film, although devotees will no doubt recognize some are missing.

The album’s standout song is Modern English’s classic, “I Melt With You.” I don’t recall thinking much of this song when it came out, but wow has it ever held up well. This song will have you floating in a sea of love. It feels like they actually could “stop the world and melt with you.” And while this fate may sound a bit grim taken literally, I give it bonus points for using a very old poetic device of “melting” which goes all the way back to John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” where he says to his lover:

“So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move”

Because back in the day when you melted something like gold if it was sufficiently pure it was known to “make no noise” and Donne is saying his love is equally pure. It felt to me that Modern English was drawing a line back to this time-honoured expression of love, capturing purity, excellence and the loss of the individual into something greater. But I digress…

The best thing this record did was introduce me to Josie Cotton. Eighties movies about high schoolers often featured a real artist as “the band” at the graduation dance, and on Valley Girl this is Josie Cotton. Cotton is rewarded with three of the songs on the soundtrack, all of which are good. She has a pop pin-up girl/eighties punk crossover thing that works both for her music and her overall vibe. She’s been making music for years since she had that brief brush with fame, and she’s still great. I’ve bought three of her records so far, and I’m on the lookout for a fourth.

Other fun tunes include Flirts’ earworm “Jukebox (Don’t Put Another Dime)” and the spacy sounds of Gary Myrick’s “She Talks in Stereo.”

It isn’t all sun and roses, of course. I love the hook in the Payola’s “Eyes of a Stranger” but the saxophone solo in the middle is an abomination. Also, the Flirts’ tell you not to put another dime in the jukebox for about a minute and half longer than is necessary.

Overall this is a great record which is a fine selection of eighties pop and New Wave and will leave you with warm and melty feelings of love.

Best tracks: Johnny Are You Queer – Josie Cotton, He Could Be The One – Josie Cotton, Love My Way – Psychadelic Furs, Jukebox (Don’t Put Another Dime) – The Flirts, She Talks in Stereo – Gary Myrick and the Figures, I Melt With You – Modern English

CD Odyssey Disc 1546: Josie Cotton

What’s that a second review in three days? Amazing what I can accomplish with even a modicum of free time!

Disc 1546 is…. From the Hip

Artist: Josie Cotton

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? Josie flashes a smile that says, “Of course I know this haircut is fantastic.” Yes, it is, Josie, and so is the rest of you.

How I Came To Know It: Earlier this year Sheila introduced me to the 1983 movie “Valley Girl,” which features Josie Cotton both in the film (she performs at the high school prom) and on a couple of songs on the soundtrack. Sheila loved the soundtrack, but it is devilishly hard to find, so I was exploring options to build one myself. In doing so, I landed on Cotton’s Bandcamp site, and realized I liked a lot of her music.

And yes, I eventually found the Valley Girl soundtrack, but we’ll save that story for when I roll the review.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Josie Cotton albums in my collection. They’re all very different, making it hard to compare, but since I’ve created this category, I’ll dive in and say “From the Hip” is…third. It isn’t bad, but one of them had to be last.

Ratings: 3 stars

Josie Cotton’s “From the Hip” is a love letter to a wide gamut of eighties pop sounds, and while it lacks focus, all of those musical side quests still add up to an enjoyable musical ride.

Cotton can’t fully decide what she wants to be, but that’s part of her charm. She’s a little New Wave, a little rockabilly and even a little Madonna. It all works, and while the record lacks emotional gravitas, it makes up for it in good old fashioned energetic fun.

Things start with a cover of seventies band Looking Glass’ “Jimmy Loves Maryann”. The Looking Glass version of this song is all laid back hippy soul and horn flourishes, but Josie Cotton is having exactly none of that. She jumps the song out in front of the beat, infusing the song with frenetic energy. Even the horns get replaced with bright-sounding organ riffs. After listening to the Cotton version a few times, my first encounter with the original was soporific.

Cotton uses the organ to good effect throughout the record, capturing the futurist energy of  her New Wave sensibilities at every turn. Songs like “Licence to Dance” and “No Use Crying” sound like they fell out of a sixties sci fi movie. In fact, Cotton has a penchant for making things sound like a futuristic action adventure. It is no surprise that a couple decades later she would treat us to a bunch of movie theme covers on 2007’s “Invasion of the B-Girls”. Like Valley Girl, this will also be the subject of a future review.

Cotton is a natural with New Wave, but she also embraces rockabilly in a way that shows true and devoted affection. “Straight Talk” is a cross between a turbo-charged square dance and a beat that would be at home in a sixties spy caper. This is one of four songs Cotton writes, and she shows a great talent for a clever and well-timed turn of phrase, coupled with a bouncy beat.

The best song on the record is “Gina” which has that same rockabilly/sixties pop crossover that is Cotton’s sweet spot. It is written by Bobby and Larson Paine, who are also responsible for Cotton’s two hit songs from the Valley Girl soundtrack (“Johnny Are you Queer” and “He Could be the One”. “Gina” is just as solid, a song so timeless I spent half an hour trying to find the sixties original before realizing Cotton’s is the original.

While Cotton can also do the straight eighties pop thing, these are the album’s weaker songs. “Come With Me” in particular sounds like a bad Madonna song and while “Life After Love” has that Cotton swing to it – and even hand snaps – it lacks the element of whimsy that is present on the stronger tunes.

Every now and then the songs don’t feel like full compositions, either. Even “School Is In” which has a great pop hook and a sing-along chorus gets tired quickly, despite being only 2:33 in length.

However, overall the energy of this record alone will hold your attention, and there are plenty of gems. Apart from Valley Girl, Cotton never broke big, and lesser-known records like “From the Hip” underscores for me how wrong that is. I’m glad I found her, and even more glad I was able to purchase her music through Bandcamp, where the artist gets the lion’s share of the revenue. Thank you, Josie!

Best tracks: Jimmy Loves Maryann, Straight Talk, Gina, Way Out West

CD Odyssey Disc 1530: The Underground Youth

When picking a record to review, I usually alternate between music in my “new to me” section (usually around 80-100 albums bought within the last year) and music filed away in the stacks (thousands more). The “new to me” section is organized from newest to the collection to oldest, but I just roll randomly out of the pile. This next review happened to be the newest of the new – literally purchased just last week. So hot from the store to you, here’s some music.

Disc 1530 is….  The Falling

Artist: The Underground Youth

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover? A field of tulips, which could be beautiful but here we have them under the influence of a red filter because DRAMA. Also the album title in dozens of languages because “the falling” can happen ANYWHERE!

How I Came To Know It: I only discovered these guys last March, but I already can’t remember how. I dimly remember seeing a video for their song “Vergiss Mich Nicht” so maybe it was from a “best songs of the week” type of article. If so, I couldn’t find it. In terms of the actual purchase, I only found digital options on-line and assumed they didn’t release the CD. Then last week I found it in the stacks of my local record store. Where I gobbled it up with some Christmas money. Huzzah!

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Underground Youth album so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 3 stars

Is it ever OK to be overwrought? I would say yes if you over-wring it just right and are unapologetic about doing so. This thought (and just what constitutes the right amount of pale and wan) were on my mind often as I listened to Underground Youth’s “The Falling”.

The band is solidly Euro-Goth (if that’s not a thing, it should be), influenced by Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen. And when I say influenced, I mean a lot of influence. So much so that at times they sound like a Nick Cave cover band. It tempted me to label them derivative, but that would not be fair to the quality of the music, and besides, no one should be blamed for their musical influences. Except Creed. They should be blamed.

On “The Falling” Underground Youth capture that creepy confessional quality of Nick Cave songs, with the steady rhyme and measure you’ll find in mid-career Leonard Cohen. They are not as good as either of those artists, but they do a good job of putting their own spin on the sound.

The guitars tend to be basic strums, and there are hints of strings here and there but don’t expect a lot of musical innovation. The music is the backdrop for lead singer Craig Dyer to deliver lyrics in his deep baritone, as he hints that something of great import is being shared.

Both the music and vocals are very theatrical, like an ancient Greek orator delivering prose in a stone-stepped theatre. It inclines you to believe some great tragedy is unfolding, or possibly observations on a dystopian future. However closer examination usually reveals something much more personal revolving around self-doubt and a fair bit of alcoholism. Examples of the latter abound, from the beginning of the title track:

“I crave this poison every day
Well, it gives me wings
But takes the sky away”

To “A Sorrowful Race” with:

“I curse first the empty bottle
That lies by my side
For the one job that I gave it
Well, it failed as it tried”

Incidentally, the race in the sorrowful race is a reference comparing raindrops falling and tears rolling down our narrator’s cheeks. It is very much on the wrong side of maudlin. “A Sorrowful Race” is one of the record’s better songs and possesses a genuine and profound melancholy. But imagery like that – a bit too on the nose - holds the record back.

Cohen and Cave might have made you feel the same way, but they would have used better language. Admittedly, that is a hell of a high bar, but if a band is going to sound that similar, then those are the comparisons they’re going to invite.

Despite its shortcomings, “the Falling” works well as a mood piece, particularly when listened to sequentially from beginning to end. The songs tend to blend into one another with a pleasant hypnotic quality and a rising tension. It is good for a wallow, and it feels honest despite moments where it needs to be just a little bit less verklempt.

Best tracks: The Falling, Vergiss Mich Nicht, A Sorrowful Race

CD Odyssey Disc 1455: Gary Numan

I realize it is still winter for a couple more weeks, but it is starting to feel like spring is around the corner. It could be the anticipation of a vaccinated world, or maybe just the effect of a longer day, but I’ll take it. OK – here’s some music.

Disc 1455 is…. The Pleasure Principle

Artist: Gary Numan

Year of Release: 1979

What’s up with the Cover?  Gary Numan looks askance at a glowing red pyramid. This cover invites us to wonder what exactly Mr. Numan is thinking. My best guess is “I should never have opened my neighbour’s Amazon package” or maybe, “This new intercom system is starting to make me wonder if we should have sold the firm to the undying pharaoh Nephren-Ka”.

How I Came To Know It: I know the album’s hit single, but it would never have occurred to me to check into Gary Numan if it weren’t for my buddy Nick. Nick is a big Gary Numan fan. You can tell a big fan because when you ask them which album is the best, they can never pick just one. When I told Nick I picked this album up, he was happy, but immediately said, “you need to get Replicas as well”. See? Big fan.

How It Stacks Up: Numan is still making music (he has 22 studio albums and another on the way this May). Despite this and ongoing exhortations from my mates, to date this is my only Gary Numan album. This means for now it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

A quick scan of the bands I’ve reviewed so far will tell you that Gary Numan’s synthesizer New Wave weirdness is not my usual jam. But great music is always my jam, and this stuff is as wonderful as it is weird.

“The Pleasure Principle” is otherworldly. The synthesizers scream artificiality, and Numan’s vocals are deliberately robotic. Despite this, the album feels deep and emotional. There are a few reasons for this.

The first is that while these songs are reinforced behind a wall of fuzzy synth, at their core they are sneaky melodic. Sure it is played on synths, but a lot of these songs would sound just as dope on an electric guitar in a traditional rock arrangement. Some, like “M.E.” would even be great as acoustic folk – my mind even filled in violin for some of the synth bits from time to time. Good songs have good bones, even when those bones are made of metal and plastic, as they are here.

The second reason is Numan’s vocal performance. He has a quavering vibrato and stilted delivery to underscore the technology-forward sound and themes of the songs, but the human in him shines through. Or not human exactly, but more an AI that has learned to love. Kind of like the terminator in Terminator 2: Judgment Day, which befriends John Connor, and saves his life, only to bid him a tearful “hasta la vista” and fall into a vat of molten metal. But I digress…

Lastly, I was surprised and impressed with the Tubeway Army drummer Cedric Sharpley. New Wave is not my go-to for great drummers. I tend to hate that artificial tinny sound that they default to, and the excessive use of drum machine over actual drums. Sharpley is a revelation, and the secret weapon that elevates this record above and beyond any style bias I might have had. His work on tracks like “Observer” and “Films” helps make the songs. He’s precise but intricate, dropping creative beats that fit right into the “we are all clones” vibe of the tunes but with a kernel of humanity at their centre. Sharpley died tragically of a heart attack in 2012, but he left us an amazing performance here that will ensure he lives forever.

I would be remiss not to mention the album’s big hit, “Cars” which is the only Gary Numan song a lot of people will know (certainly true for me for many years). “Cars” is a love song about our fascination with the automobile, but also an exploration of how part of that love is their ability to give us a “separateness” that we move through the world in. On a personal note, I recently bought a car and I can confirm that yes, it is a lot of fun driving to this song. The roar of the engine fits in nicely, like Numan planned it that way.

My copy of “The Pleasure Principle” is (of course) on compact disc, and it features a gratuitous seven bonus tracks. This pushes the album to a bloated 17 songs, and 68 minutes, some of which are just instrumental mood pieces. It is hard to complain, though, because the bonus tracks are all good. For example, if you ever want to experience the terror of a haunted insane asylum, I recommend “Asylum” which does it as well as any horror movie could. He even does a cover of “On Broadway” which is the first time I have appreciated that song. I think I would have liked these extra tracks less if I had the original studio albums they come from, but since that isn’t the case (yet) they were a welcome addition.

I feel like I’ve tried other Gary Numan albums before and moved on without buying, but listening to the brilliance of “The Pleasure Principle” I am motivated to dive in once again.

Best tracks: Metal, Films, M.E., Observer, Conversation, Cars

CD Odyssey Disc 1441: Devo

I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and I’m still feeling filled with happiness to the universe. Hello, universe! You’re probably not listening, but thanks for the music all the same!

Disc 1441 is…. Freedom of Choice

Artist: Devo

Year of Release: 1980

What’s up with the Cover?  Earlier that day, an elderly woman had her purse snatched at a hand model convention by a man wearing a silver suit and a red flowerpot on his head. This was just the cops making sure the police lineup was fair. “Do you recognize any of these hands ma’m?” asked the detective. “Oh, I don’t know officer,” she replied querulously, “every young man’s hands look lovely at my age.”

How I Came To Know It: I was reading a list on Paste Magazine’s site of “Top albums of 1980” and this was on it. I checked it out and had to agree. It kicks ass.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Devo albums. They are both great, but “Freedom of Choice” is the best. #1, baby!

Ratings: 5 stars

I’ve been watching a show recently about the construction of modern music. The process often involves combining a lot of disparate sounds in creative ways. While the results can sometimes be catchy, none of it holds a candle to what Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale were doing 40 years ago in Devo.

Each of these 12 songs is a perfect piece of craftsmanship, exploring multiple musical notions in an overlapping interlace, chasing the perfect interplay of sounds. Devo usually finds it in three minutes or less.

The album starts with a relatively normal – and very good – guitar riff. “Girl U Want” makes you want to dance around with the frenetic energy that comes from young love and desire. The song stitches in synthesizer, bass lines and some solid vocals into something that could have just been a New Wave crowd pleaser. Devo takes it further, creating a jigsaw puzzle of odd pieces that fit together into a coherent and enjoyable tune. Never has experimentation sounded so good.

This is the theme of the whole record; a latticework of sound clips – sometimes organic, sometimes electronic – combined into beauty. Rap would later do something similar by sampling other music, or the perfect snare drum. Modern pop music does it with expensive equipment and a small army of songwriters and producers. Devo does a bit of both, creating all the sounds themselves and then turning them into high art.

There are a million great moments on this record. That bass line that holds down “Whip It” and the urgent alarm sound that they introduce later to offset it. The synth harmonies on “Snowball” The Clash-like guitar on “Gates of Steel” throwing a little hard rock in with the punk and that answering riff which is either guitar or keyboard (I can’t tell). It all just works.

“Snowball” even pulled me into a philosophical journey. The song is a simple image. A woman takes love, like a snowball, and rolls it up a hill. As it rolls, it gets bigger until it is so big, she can push it no farther, and it rolls back down. It had me thinking of Camus discussing the Myth of Sisyphus. In that moment, the rock rolls down the hill, and before he begins again, Sisyphus is free. In that same moment when the snowball of love rolls away, there’s a deep sadness. Love rolling down a hill is a different animal. Or maybe they’re saying it takes two to roll that all the way up the hill. What I do know is that for such a simple image, the song invites a lot of deep thinking.

On the title track, Devo explores how freedom of choice can paralyze you. Or as they put it:

“In ancient Rome
There was a poem
About a dog
Who found two bones
He picked at one
He licked the other
He went in circles
He dropped dead”

Gotta pick one of those bones, dog. Life’s about choices.

And while you could spend quite a bit of time exploring every song for its onion-layers of meaning, it is so much more fun to just revel in the energy and musicality Devo pull out of a series of simple, carefully chosen sounds. They always know just what they need, like outlaw artists composing sculpture from a junkpile. And the scariest thing is, you could rearrange these songs just a bit into a more traditional format, play them on guitar, and they would still sound great.

When I reviewed “Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo?” back at Disc 1250 I noted that while I loved it, every now and then it got sufficiently weird to lose me emotionally. That never happened on “Freedom of Choice”. I was fully invested and along for the ride from the opening notes to the end.

As for how it achieved the vaunted 5-star rating, it wasn’t just all that philosophy and life advice. The truth is that I listened to this album four times in a row, before reviewing it. After the first listen, I would start again, each time vowing to note which songs I liked the best. But I could never choose. I like them all.

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