The Best of 2019? My round up of the year

OK, this is NOT one of my big-ass surveys of this or that year. I don't think that it is really feasible to do for the current year. Part of what makes an album really great is its longevity. Some of these albums I have had for a few weeks. Hardly long enough to make a good judgement, no? This year I have bought 30 albums - hardly a proper estimate of a year's worth of music. If I ever do my usual blog post on 2019, it'll be many years hence, and I'll probably have bought a bunch more releases from this year by then.

So anyway, here's my round-up of the year - make of it what you will. Please make recommendations if you like or if you think I've missed something. At some point in the future, I promise I'll get around to them.

The Top Ten is numbered at the top. After that, the rest; for the truly committed.

10. 

Big Thief - U.F.O.F.. 

This was Big Thief's first of two albums from 2019. Two albums in a year feels like showing off, especially when they are both this good. People seem to pick a favourite; Two Hands is rawer, less structured, and has the amazing track 'Not'; but I prefer this one, which is more produced, polished and downright weirder. It slips in like gentle American indie-folk (think Mark Kozelek), and then adds (mostly) subtle Espers or Comets on Fire touches. What impresses is the sureness of touch. Nothing is too much or too little; there's a lot of control here. Most importantly, every song is killer.

9. 

Lizzo - Cuz I Love You. 

I've picked up a few pure pop albums this year and all of them are, at worst, fine. Not one of them lays a finger on this, though. Every track is hooky as all hell, fun, catchy and cool. There are 16 tracks and not one fails and outstays its welcome. It may not be big or clever but Lizzo will rock your party if you let her.

8. 

Michael Kiwanuka - Kiwanuka. 

This is some good shit. Kiwanuka's albums have been getting better and better and this one is awesome. He's channelling a raw, early 70s, funky soul feeling. It's deep, soulful, and hooky.

7. 

Nilüfer Yanya - Miss Universe. 

Some records cover a lot of ground stylistically in such a way that it leads you to suspect that the artist or band haven't quite figured out yet who they are. Some other records, like this one, are similar but they suggest a different conclusion - this is an artist or band that simply aren't going to get pinned down like that. I've been listening to this album a few times lately trying to find the words to explain why I like it and why I think it is one of the best albums I have heard this year, and I am struggling. Stylistically, as I say, it covers a lot of ground: it begins in a pretty standard indie-rock kind of way (Bella suggests 90s), but as it goes it shifts through dream pop and sophisti-pop and even rubs shoulders with elements of leftfield r'n'b. I don't know. All I can say is that I bought this in February and it has consistently grown on me since. I saw her play at Primavera and that confirmed that it was something special. The fact that it has ear-wormed itself into Bella's consciousness too is interesting too (we don't always see eye-to-eye). It does lag a touch towards the end and I can live without the interludes, but all the same, I recommend it very highly.

6. 

FKA Twigs - Magdelene. 

Frankly, it took me a while to get FKA Twigs. I think that the penny only finally dropped when I saw her live this year. It is a brand of complex art-pop that rests precariously against the precious. On my first few listens, I swung back and forth between being utterly enthralled and mildly irritated. As time has passed, there's been more of the former and less of the latter. The wealth of ideas, tones and textures is consistently impressive and Tahliah Barnett is an incredible singer, projecting an intimacy in the midst of sometimes overpowering, crushing sonic arrays.

(As an aside, I would massively recommend seeing FKA Twigs live if you get the chance. She conceives this music very much in the context of a performance and hers was one of the most fully realised performances that I ever remember seeing.)

5. 

Sudan Archives - Athena 

Art-pop with a R'n'B sensibility, or R'nB with an art-pop sensibility. Don't know, don't care - I love this. This is possibly the most obscure item on my list, so a brief intro - Brittany Parks, a.k.a, Sudan Archives, inspired by Sudanese traditional music, self-taught violinist, made a small splash 'round these parts with her two Stones Throw released EPs, and the magnificent Come Meh Way. Athena is her debut album. Sultry R'n'B with intriguing use of violins, both plucked and bowed, coupled with gorgeous, satin-y melodies. Parks has a casual vocal style, not a million miles away from Sade.

4. 

Little Simz - Grey Area. 

This summer, I saw Little Simz in Barcelona at the Primavera Festival on a tiny stage (she was mind-blowingly awesome). Three weeks later, Stormzy headlined Glastonbury. I mean no disrespect whatsoever to Stormzy, but there is something seriously wrong with this picture. She probably has a point here when she says on Venom that no-one admits that she's the best just because she has ovaries. Elsewhere: I'm like Jay-Z on a bad day, Shakespeare on my worst days. Debates of who is best often descend into silliness, but any discussion of the best MCs in British Hip Hop that doesn't include her is not worth your time. She should be gaining far more mainstream recognition. Anyway, Grey Area is a monster. The extent to which it has built on the already excellent Stillness in Wonderland is incredible. The decision to play with a band is smart, especially on the killer tracks Boss and Offence, which have a rawness that is so funky.

3. 

Tyler, the Creator - Igor. 

Tyler's transformation from enfant terrible to musical auteur has been impressive. There'll be those that will say that there were always signs, and they're not wrong, but he was also blunt and shapelessly provocative on his first album; that, to be honest, put me off. I saw that there was something interesting, but I wasn't sure that it was worth the effort of sifting through the bullshit. The buzz surrounding his last album (Scum Fuck Flower Boy) was enough to encourage me to pick it up and sure enough, it was cool. Cool enough that this one was pretty much an auto-buy. What's notable about the album is that is barely a Hip Hop album at all but straddles Hip Hop, R'n'B, funk and soul masterfully. It's also incredible the degree that he has learnt from and begun to surpass his heroes. The stamp of Kanye West is present here, for instance, but Kanye hasn't released an album this good for years. Every track is thoughtful, engaging and a blast to listen to. What more could you want?

2. 

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Ghosteen. 

It can't be just me, but Lord, do I find this album heart-breaking. The narrative of this album was always going to hard to avoid, following, as it did, the death of Cave's son. It is, undoubtedly, sodden with grief - thematically, obviously, but also in tone and tempo. It truth, it's an album I find difficult to listen to coming so soon after my mother's passing.

Yet for all that, and it's funereal pacing, and it's length, it's a mark of Cave skill as a songwriter and arranger, that it remains a pleasure and a joy to listen to. That's not to say that it is a fun listen - it's not; but despite all the reasons that this could have, justifiably, been a dirge, it holds on to a lighter side, a beauty - a sedate, gentle, prettiness.

1. 

Lana Del Rey - Norman Fucking Rockwell.

I don't think any album this year has been as giving as this one. It's so insanely rich of ideas, tones, references, connections, and yet all the time without even slightly compromising her own persona and position. Lana Del Rey's records have been growing and becoming more thoughtful and sophisticated since her debut Born to Die in 2012, and this might be, as she sings, The Next Best American Record. It is so embedded in the musical traditions of America, from Laurel Canyon to Oakland. It is a soft rock record that can reference Snoop Dogg, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, the Mamas and Papas, and yet not be afraid to slip back into the 21st century to get all EDM for a verse.

One of my favourite tracks here is Venice Bitch, which begins simply enough, and yet grows and soars, becoming woozier and more and more disorientating. It's such a piece of work. At 10 minutes, it ought to have outstayed its welcome, but it remains comforting to the end.

Lyrically, it never fails to be evocative. With the exception of possibly Cave, I can't think of any record in the last few years that does so much lyrically (and I'm not even a lyrics guy!).

I think that one of the tests of whether an album is really great is the extent to which it might go with us forward into the rest of our lives. I can't speak for anyone else, but I feel that this will be with me for a very long time. Time will tell, but it's my favourite album of the year.

11-20 (I only ever meant to do the Top 10, but then got carried away...)

11. Freddie Gibbs & Madlib - Bandana. I've not listened to a lot of Hip Hop this year. No reason - just haven't. I've only picked up a few new Hip Hop albums. Luckily for me, they've all been doozies. This one sits firmly within that classic U.S./Boom Bap tradition and truth is, I feel that this record could have been released pretty much any time in the last 15 or so years. (Perhaps someone that knows Hip Hop better than me could tell me why I'm wrong.) But do you know what? I'm not complaining because every damned bit of it is killer - Madlib's production, in particular, makes me woozy with happiness.

12. Aldous Harding - Designer. One part art-pop, two parts wispy folk. It's a simple mixture but very pleasing, and it goes down real easy. I think that one reason for that is that it is nicely reminiscent at times to that early 70's soft rock in that it has a nice ear for melody and a catchy hook. Recommended if you like that sort of thing.

13. Fontaines D.C. - Dogrel. This was an unusual choice for me. Much more rumbunctuous and rocky for my usual tastes. I only gave it a listen at all because it was picking up a lot of buzz. But since I did it's been growing on me. At first glance, you might say that it is too derivative. You can pick up a whole range of 80s indie influences (the ever-present Joy Division, The Fall, Bunnymen, even The Smiths) as well as obvious and slightly lazy comparisons to The Pogues (they're from Dublin). [That said, the closer Dublin City Sky does bear that likeness.] But despite these influences, Fontaines do bring something new and fresh to the record. Most obviously an energy and hunger. If you're not put off, like Bella, by the dude's shout-y non-singing brand of singing (which he does on most, but not all, tunes here), it's definitely one to spend a little time with.

14. Billie Eilish - When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? Forget that all of this was written and produced by a 17 year old (and her brother). It's a fascinating, dark pop album with a range of neat tricks and nice ideas. Not every move is as remarkable as it might be, and a couple of tracks are 'only' good. But when it's great, it's phenomenal. The singles 'Bad Guy', 'My Strange Addiction' and 'You Should See Me In A  Crown' are 100% killer. And then remember that she was only 17 again. Blimey!

15. Angel Olson - All Mirrors. Female art-pop of this sort has a chequered past for me. For every U.S. Girls or Lorde, there's a St. Vincent or Bats for Lashes album. These latter albums are fine, but I just enjoy them and never listen to them again. So, my question to myself is: is Angel Olson another Meg Remy or Natasha Khan? Thankfully, early indications are good (although time will tell). Anyway, the album is rich and glossy, deep and moving. It's haunting, but not in a precious way. I think the most positive sign is that it has huge great hooks. Hard not to enjoy. Right now, it's a winner.

16. Big Thief - Two Hands. They've managed to release two pretty impressive albums this year. I prefer the other, so I'll keep it super-brief here. If nothing else, check out 'Not' from this one, though. The whole album is good, but slips into the background a touch. But that track always brings it right back.

17. Ariana Grande - Thank U, Next. More high grade pop music. Much like Sigrid, I don't have that much to complain about. The singles, obviously, are first rate, but frankly so are a bunch of the album tracks - at 41 minutes, it hardly even drags; if anything it gets stronger as it goes - Grande smartly placing the singles later in the listing. Smart move and a great album even if not top ten.

18. The Comet is Coming - Trust in the Lifeforce of the Deep Mystery. Let's be honest, this ain't jazz, no matter how much we pretend - stick it on the Impulse label all you like. That said, I enjoy it plenty despite feeling slightly cheated by it. In short every song has the same formula; the drummer and the dude on the keyboards knock out a rhythm (something spacey, big-beat-y, something at the dancier end of stoner rock, and so on) and then the third guy solos over it with a saxophone or clarinet. It is very cool and a lot of fun.

19. Bruce Springsteen - Western Skies. I enjoyed this far more than I expected - certainly more than I've enjoyed any Springsteen album since the '80s. In short, it's pretty much a melancholy singer-songwriter affair. It's prettied up with some nice arrangements and more than touch of 'country'. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it's closest point of comparison (while not being the same) seems to me to be the albums Dylan made in the late '90s (Love and Theft, etc.), where Dylan seemed to come to terms with his age. I can't say how much that is the case here, but it has an 'evening' quality - whatever that means.

20. Chaka Khan - Hello Happiness. This isn't the best album of the year, but it is one of the most fun. Pretty much seven straight dance tracks - five up tempo, last two low; all funky and cool. Chaka Khan is, of course, on fire. 'Like Sugar' is worth the price of admission alone. Also it has the decency to keep things brief - clocking in at just over 30 minutes. I like that!

21-30 (In approximate order)

Raphael Saadiq - Jimmy Lee. It's been a while since Raphael's Saadiq's last album and this one is excellent in a number of respects. Where it falls down is that, in being devoted to Saadiq's brother who recently died following a crack addiction, it has a heaviness that doesn't translate so much into fun. That does not make it a bad record, of course, but it lacks the lightness that Instant Vintage or Stone Rollin' had.

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy  - I Have Found a Place. This is the first album by Will Oldham since 2006's 'The Letting Go' that I have found myself looking forward to listening to. I'm still not quite sure where it will ultimately land in his discography or how fixed it will be in my enjoyment, but there's potential. It's still warming. Ask me again in a year or two.

Sigrid - Sucker Punch. Frankly, this a great pop album in the Scandi-pop tradition of Robyn. It's grand - lots of nice ideas and hooks. However, it just doesn't stand up to the crackle and energy of an album like Lizzo's or Billie Eilish.

Ibibio Sound Machine - Doko Mien. The dance-y end of 80s R&B goes to Africa. Really hard not to like. Not quite enough to fix itself in the memory and thus to ensure a long-standing place in my heart, but plenty enough to my CD shelves.

Charli XCX - Charli. Much like Sigrid, I've nothing negative to say about this album. It's a pretty solid slab of dance-pop. It's more urban, more EDM influenced than Sigrid pure-pop confection, with a nice range of collaborations (including Christine [and the Queens], and Lizzo). But ultimately, not really hitting the upper reaches.

Jessica Pratt - Quiet Signs. Nice, wispy, under-stated folk music. Pleasant with loads of reverb on the vocals, but for a very specific sort of mood. I'm not in that mood often enough and when I am Aldous Harding is going win... Sorry!

Mabel - High Expectations. It's a tough gig when you deliver a perfectly serviceable pop album and you are immediately outflanked by Ariana Grande, Sigrid, Billie Eilish, etc. It's a fine album but, honestly, it is the weakest of all the straight pop albums I've bought this year. Sorry, Neneh Cherry Jr.

Santana - Africa Speaks. I've never really warmed to Santana but of all of the albums of his I've listened to, this one has engaged me the most. Maybe it's because it's produced by Rick Rubin or because he is accompanied by powerhouse singer Buika throughout, or maybe it's because he's managed to resist putting guitar fills all over the place - I don't know, but it's alright. Truth is, though, that for all of that, it all feels a little safe and unremarkable.

Bill Callahan - Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest. Bill Callahan doing his Bill Callahan schtick. I've not very enjoyed one of his records for a while. I think it's fine, but not one of his more memorable.

Calexico & Iron and Wine - Years To Burn. It's been a while since I picked up anything from either of these guys. Not much has changed. The first track is cool, but the rest is just fine... Nothing to write home about.




If you made it this far, thank you! One final note: I think it's been a pretty good year musically. Even the worst album here is pretty good. Looking at others' lists, I have zero doubt that I will discover other great albums from the year as time goes on. It's fair to say that I tend to default to the surface. It will take time for the subterranean jewels to become exposed to me. All the same, I never tire to finding things, and I'll look forward to another year, God willing.

My Appraisal/Reappraisal of Classic Punk Debut Albums

So this began with my standard year posts and I'd hit 1977. I've had a long standing belief that of the three 'classic' punk debuts of 1977, that the best was the Damned's Damned Damned Damned.

The first problem was that I had never listened to The Clash's debut. I'd heard plenty of stuff by them - London's Calling, Give 'Em Enough Rope, even Sandinista, for goodness' sake. Just not the debut. If I've not heard that, it throws some doubt on my claim regarding The Damned. The second was listening to The Jam's debut In the City. I'd managed to dodge that too, but listening to it I had to admit that it was better than I'd anticipated. I also had to recognise that maybe it wasn't three 'classic' debuts - maybe it was four. Maybe it was more than four. In the interests of sanity I decided some limits.

• I stuck to the UK
• I stuck to 1977
• I stuck to records that were well known, bordering on the mainstream.

So I stuck to five.

• The Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks
• The Damned - Damned Damned Damned
• The Clash - The Clash
• The Jam - In the City
• The Stranglers - Stranglers IV (Rattus Norvegicus)

Time to appraise and re-appraise. Which is the best?

The Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bollocks

I've always been lukewarm about this record but listening to it now (with an attempt at fresh ears) it's as bright and day-glo as Jamie Reid's cover. It's effervescent - there's so much energy. The four singles are also pretty undeniable. I've always loved Pretty Vacant. For my money it's the Pistols' greatest achievement in the recording studio and one of the best punk records full stop.

On the downside, there are precious few ideas here. Several of the songs rehash the same moves again and again. Liar is pretty much a replay of Pretty Vacant, for instance. Musically, while Steve Jones' can't be faulted for commitment, there's an awful lot of Chuck Berry retreads, just louder. You can also point to the New York Dolls, elements of Bowie, The Stooges (who were all self-consciously replaying their own idols, of course). There's also very little dynamic on the record, too much similarity. If you've listened to the singles, there's really no need to listen to the remaining eight tracks. Finally, Lydon's lyrics are pretty weak in the most part. They only occasionally make sense and often tilt to the juvenile and inane (Seventeen) - a shame given the bands' claim of social critique.

Listening again now, I find my opinion isn't much changed. If you want to listen to a cultural artefact, cool. The Pistols, for a variety of (non-musical) reasons, captured something in the zeitgeist that was truly infectious, and this record is a document of that. Alternatively, if you want to listen to some dumb-ass loud rock and roll music that has some claim to attitude and energy, again, cool. I'll not disagree. But a great record on it's own merits? I'm not sold.


The Jam - In The City

Like The Clash, I've managed to never listen to the debut album from The Jam. I think it's because I never liked Paul Weller very much, even if I did begrudgingly admit that he wrote some good tunes from time to time.

Straight away it feels pretty tight to me. Maybe it's that power trio thing, it doesn't leave much space. The songwriting seems pretty sharp too. I can see what the early critics are getting at when they tried to put them down as 'revivalists'. There definite echoes from the 60s. You definitely can hear some Pete Townsend here. But how's that bad? Similarly, I hear some British 60s R&B rehash. But I'm not complaining.

I like that The Jam are not too afraid to be musical. Sure, it has that energy, but the songs are all self-consciously structured and thought through - Away from the Numbers. Batman is obviously cool, and In the City is a great single. It is very hard not to want to sing along. Sounds from the Street reminds me of The Ramones, but more interesting. That said, from a negative mindset, the album is a bit patchy when it comes to being fun. Some of the songs remind me too much of Weller - a bit bitter and cranky.

The Clash - The Clash

Janie Jones is a great opener to any album. It's full of energy and excitement, infectious, you can sing along. What's more, the lyrics make sense. And bonus, they articulate an experience that the audience in 1977 would have been able to get right behind. Here's a dude, he likes his girl, his weed and his music, but he doesn't like his dead-end job. And the songs that follow maintain this. It's easy to see why some folk still call The Clash the only band that matters. Especially since the next few songs maintain all of the albums best qualities.

After that, it does waver. Hate & War, What's My Name, Deny are all just fine, but each of them are forgettable. I'll admit that I have never been keen on that shout-y style of singing that became so typical of punk bands. I find myself wondering if the elements that leave me a little cold here are because I have wearied of them elsewhere. Sort of like how films like The Exorcist lose their impact after a million lesser films have stolen their best bits. I don't know. I am enjoying the album intermittently. I am enjoying the phase effect on the guitars in Cheat.  Musically, again - and I don't know why I keep being surprised by this - I keep catching sight of the band's influences. This ain't no year zero... I do quite like their version of Police and Thieves even if I think that they achieved a better synthesis of punk and reggae in later records.

The Stranglers - IV (Rattus Norvegicus)

What a weird album. Listening to it again, it's plain that this one is odd one out. No surprise really that these guys were often not really considered punks at the time. They share an energy, and an attitude, and a disregard with the punks, but two things really set them apart. Firstly, they are FAR more musical than the other four, and I'm not just thinking of Dave Greenfield's keyboards, which plainly recall Ray Manzarek of The Doors. Second, there's a sleaziness here. The Pistols had 'sex' in their name and wore T-shirts with tits on them, but it was all as innocent and juvenile as The Damned covered in custard pies. The Jam and The Clash thought they were too good for a little T&A. But these guys feel like the dude who sits behind the counter at the grimiest 70s sex shop. It's hard not to listen to London Lady or Peaches without being a little disappointed in yourself. But then (getting back to the music), that second side! Hanging Around, Peaches, and Grip are irresistible. I can live without the first side, to be honest. It's the payment necessary to get the second.

The Damned - Damned Damned Damned

This is the album that started this whole train of thought. Along with the Pistols, I first listened to this in my teens and it's stayed with me. So much so that I've thought it the best...

If you don't love Neat Neat Neat I'm not sure we can be friends. I keep talking about energy - it's no surprise, given that we're talking punk and debut albums (often a band's most energetic), but this opener is killer. It gets down to business so insanely fast. I watched that documentary on The Damned (Don't You Wish That We Were Dead) and Brian James was saying that he hated to play slow songs. Yup, he's not kidding, is he? Every song (12 in the space of 31 minutes) is played at breakneck speed with total conviction. There's no fuss, no waiting, no unnecessary clever business. I read recently about an advert that Stiff Records ran for a tour that featured The Damned and The Adverts and the slogan went 'The Damned know 3 chords, The Adverts know 1. See all 4 at...'. I never quite bought that - I think that The Damned are better musically than they liked to let on...

But yes, there's no clever business here, is there? Lyrically, it's dumb-ass rock and roll stuff. New Rose (which I love even more than Neat Neat Neat) [also, first punk single, yadda yadda...], Fish, Fan Club, and so on, keep the ball in the air. And then there's a Stooges cover to wrap things up. I'm not sure that it's true overall, but listening to their version of 1970 (So Messed Up) here, makes me think that these guys are even further off the deep end than Iggy's lot.

Conclusion

I'm not sure that there's a clear winner here, but there is a loser. Aside from the singles, I still can't get too excited about Never Mind the Bollocks. The scope of the album feels contrived and limited to me. The Pistol's Steve Jones is an alright guitarist, and although I've never quite made up my mind about Lydon, he went on to do far more interesting things with P.I.L..As I say above, I don't want to take anything away from these guys as a sort of lightning rod of the time, but the record just doesn't do it.

In fourth is The Stranglers. (Get a) Grip (on Yourself) and Hanging Around are phenomenal. I like the album as a whole, even the first side, which is by far the weaker, but it's not essential. If someone told me I could never listen to London Lady again, I'd cope fine.

It gets harder, I think, when we get to third place because I think that all three of the remaining bands and their records are pretty good - by which I mean very. Both The Jam and The Clash's debuts were better than I expected, and I wish I had gotten around to listening to these earlier. What's more, all three bands went on to do much better records.

I'm going to put The Clash in third. Mainly because once you get past White Riot (track 4) the albums starts to dip for me. If the whole album was as good as Janie Jones, it would be the clear winner.

It's close.

If I want fast, stupid, rock and roll The Damned win. If I want something a little more multi-dimensional (let's say), I'll go with The Jam. If I want something a little more 'year zero', it's The Damned. If I want to keep that 60's R'n'B in play, it's The Jam.

It's close, but The Damned still have that place in my heart. In The City has nothing that gives me the same rush as Neat Neat Neat or New Rose.

10 'Best' Albums from 1976

1976 has been a weird year. Initially it seemed like it was going to be unusually weak. Since 1973, I have written up a long list. Each time, there were way more than 10 records vying for the top - often around 20. For 1976, I had about 5. I was worried. This was the first year that I actually did a little canvassing, asking a few folk what they saw as greats for the year. After all, it is always likely that there is stuff that I've missed. I added upwards of a dozen albums to the initial long list. Some of those records were pretty cool. In the end, of course, there were some great records from 1976.

What did I find? Classic rock was getting, by and large, heavier. There are fewer soft rock, yacht rock, call them what you will, albums that really held my attention. Records by Rainbow, AC/DC, Thin Lizzy are joining Zeppelin, Sabbath at the heavier end of the spectrum. Disco is in the ascendance. It's not quite hit the heights it will reach, but the signs are there, even by artists you wouldn't associate with the genre. R&B, for sure, feels its influence.

Of course, Punk remains absent, at least in the UK. Despite a few seminal 7"s, we'll have to wait until 1977 for that. The Americans were more forward looking. 1976 marks the debuts of The Ramones, The Modern Lovers, Blondie, and while we might not consider them punk in the classic sense (whatever that is), they are pointing in the same direction. (And let's not forget Patti Smith's debut from last year!)

The biggest story for me is the sudden growth of reggae. We have seen some great records already throughout the 1970s, and each year has seen a slightly bigger impact. 1976 is an explosion. 16 of the 107 albums I've listened to have been reggae. Even more notable is that five are in the top 20.

In case anyone is new, this list is mine and thus deeply subjective. It is 10 records that, if I was forced at gunpoint, I would select from the year. If you feel the need, here is the long list.... Finally, as ever, a few things got shunted about so as to avoid writing the same things about the same folk. I've written about Burning Spear, Dylan and Queen too recently, so Man in the Hills, Desire and A Day at the Races are absent. Similarly, I'm holding Blondie's debut for a later year, so that's missing too.

So - in reverse order...

Peter Tosh - Legalize It

This is one of the albums I bought for this project. I'd neglected Peter Tosh I think in part because of his association with Bob Marley who, as I'd noted in 1973 , I held an unreasonable prejudice towards. Whilst I had managed to get over that, I'd never returned to Tosh (or Bunny Wailer). My loss... because, of course, the album is great.

How could it not be? First of all, Tosh was an incredible talent along with Marley and Bunny Wailer, both of whom collaborate here. He is accompanied by some of the greatest support players in reggae, including Robbie Shakespeare and brothers Carlton and Aston 'Family Man' Barrett on bass and drums. The album shares with Marley's a certain polish, especially on the title track, the singalong Whatcha Gonna Do or Till Your Well Runs Dry, which I could see appearing on a Stones record (and is undoubtedly an improvement on Mick and Keith's rendition of Cherry Oh Baby from this year's Black and Blue). There is a crispness in the instrumentation and a broad palette of sounds and textures - the production on Igziabeher (Let Jah Be Praised), or the lead guitar throughout No Sympathy. Either way, the rhythm is deep and full and as earthy as anything you'd want from reggae. It's rightly regarded as a classic and I'm glad I caught up with it in the end.


Tom Waits - Small Change

I think that there have been three phases of Tom Waits' career. There is the Asylum Records period, in which Tom played the part of a drunken bar singer, with occasional flashes of an ol' timey hawker or beatnik. And then there is the Island Records period in the 80s, where he morphed into a spooky magic hobo, accompanied by what sounds like water buckets and cascading bones. After that period, it seems that there was a merging of the two periods to greater and lesser degrees. As much as that middle period is often held in the greater regard, I struggle with it and prefer the earlier, softer, prettier Waits. As such, it's the only Waits I know well. (Perhaps as these lists creep toward the 80s, I'll take opportunity to revisit Swordfish Trombones etc., and maybe 'get' them at last!)

Of the 70s albums on Asylum this (along with elements from The Heart of Saturday Night) ranks as my favourite and is as representative of Waits albums from this period as any. It contains one of his most beautiful pieces in Tom Traubert's Blues which succeeds in incorporating Waltzing Matilda with not the faintest thought of Rolf and his skeezy wobble-board. The song depicts crime and squalor and hopelessness and is still uplifting - it captures the essence of that Wilde quote of being in the gutter,  looking at the stars. Step Right Up is a hawker's anthem, while the title track is a film noir in a bottle - a 4 minute story of some no-good-nik who got what was coming to him. My favourite (coincidentally also the first track I heard by Waits when it was on the Tube a million years ago) is The Piano Has Been Drinking. It's Waits as bar room singer worse for wear; it's hilarious and sad and wistful and sort of beautiful. It's Tom Waits in a nutshell.


Roy Ayers - Everybody Loves The Sunshine

I wrote in 1974 about buying Winter in America by Gil Scott-Heron. A second entry point into the daunting world of jazz came from an unlikely point just a little time later in Guru's Jazzmatazz
album. He'd gathered a bunch of jazz musicians to construct the music behind his and some others' rhymes. It was a project of middling success, I think, and I don't think that the record has aged well. All the same, I was introduced to Ayers (and to Donald Byrd and Lonnie Liston Smith too) and my world was improved.

In all honesty, I'm not sure how representative Ayers could be said to be of jazz. It's certainly off at the fringes of jazz-funk. His soloing is jazzy, but the feel of the record is more funk and disco. The Golden Rod is pretty jazzy, but Keep On Walking or Third Eye are too spacey - blissed out disco for when the crowds have all gone home. Elsewhere we get an Earth Wind and Fire meets Sly Stone feel, with notes of Betty Davis. For me the title track is the standout. Again, it is blissed out, hazy and summery. The lyrics are ridiculous but if you've ever been fucked up in the relentless sunshine, you'll recognise them being about as articulate as you can get - 'just bees and things and flowers.... my life in the sunshine...'. And that synth, it's so sharp - it's almost like tinnitus, but good. I don't know if that makes sense, but it does to me. If this was the only song on the LP, just repeated 10 times, I'd still love it.


Rainbow - Rising

This was the surprise. It was another CD I bought for this post and, of all of them, it seemed amongst the most unlikely to make much of an impact. Pretty much every time I've popped it on and found myself really enjoying it, I had a double-take. Hang on, what, Rainbow? Really?

I'm not really much of a heavy metal fan (or hard rock, or whatever you'd classify this as nowadays), and I'm never quite sure why I like what I do. If you've been reading these posts, you'll know I like a bit of Zeppelin and Sabbath, and a root around my collection will unearth other bits and pieces. But what counts to me as good heavy metal is slightly mysterious. All I can say is that this album has it.

I like a good riff far more than I do good soloing or anything like that. I'm a pop kid at heart and I want me some hooks, I want to feel like there's something fun to get my teeth into. Richie Blackmore's a great guitarist (apparently), but if I'm to be interested, I'd better want to dance, or rock, or something. And straight from the off, Rising delivers. Tarot Woman is suitably driving, Run With The Wolf pounds, while Starstruck rocks. And this leads me to the second thing I want in my metal - it had better be ridiculous. Ronnie James Dio is on vocal duties, so no worries there. No one paints such preposterous pictures so convincingly in my eyes - I'm a massive fan of his Holy Diver for exactly that reason. Finally, I want it to sound big. The stand out for the album is Stargazer and that track is huge (and ridiculous, for good measure). It's 8 and a half minutes and bears a family resemblance to Zeppelin's Kashmir. I never want it to end. It's a great, simple riff, with Dio over-emoting like his life depended on it, and it grows in make-believe portentousness with every verse and chorus. Even Blackmore's guitar soloing isn't able to disrupt things.

As an aside, Joe, if you're reading, I hope that this one meets your approval!


The Abyssinians - Satta Massagana

If you want to know what I mean when I called Peter Tosh and Marley and co. as polished, play it next to this one. That's not to say that this is rough or careless or anything, but if you listen to the music, it's much simpler and sparser. There are no clever production tricks or effects pedals, relatively little lead guitar; there's mostly drums, bass, a rhythm guitar and organ, with accompanying horns and the very occasional flute. The Abyssinians are a vocal harmony group, however, and that is what makes them special, because every track here is gorgeous. The lead is rich and soulful and the harmonies sweet. They also are a fine example of is meant when reggae is described as being spiritual - there is a measured deliberateness to it all. These are religious songs and there is a strong sense of liturgy about them. These are not words to mumble or stumble over, to get careless with.

As so often, all this would be fine and dandy, but what really wins me over is that every damned track is fun to listen to. One critique I have read is that there is a very steady tempo throughout the album. I guess, but the melodies and hooks are on point. There's a reason that this album is one of my most listened to reggae albums - it is always a great listen. And for the record, the title track is a stone cold classic. If you ever see a reggae compilation without it, cast it to the flames.


Diana Ross - Diana Ross

Music journalists like to bandy the phrase 'Queen of Pop' around. Obviously Madonna held the throne for a while, and Kylie, Taylor, Beyonce have all been mooted at some point or other. For the record, however. Beyonce is the Queen of Pop - I'll brook no argument on the matter....

But before them all, there was a queen who dominated them all and her name was Diana Ross. Helpfully, her three best albums are entitled 'Diana Ross', 'Diana Ross' and 'Diana'. Worth noting, she has two albums entitled 'Ross' - these are not good.

Anyway, this album is pure pop gold. It opens with the 'Theme From Mahogany (Do you Know Where You're Going To)' which is gorgeous and followed by (another endless title) I Thought It Took a Little Time (But Today I Fell In Love). Both are beautiful and whilst both are ballads (or at least at that end of the spectrum), they both have GIGANTIC hooks. If you don't at least want to sing along, you might be dead. Love Hangover is cool and sexy and one of the finest disco tracks. Let's skip Kiss Me Now, which has that ragtime vibe. It's fine, but not one to write home about. Tracks 5-8 are all sitting on the pop/R&B nexus and each one is golden. The set ends with Charlie Chaplin's song Smile, which Ross had recorded in '72. Why they held it over, I don't know, as Diana does an amazing job with it. Subtle and understated.

Ultimately, this is an incredible album, an undeniable hit. The heart of it is Love Hangover, of course, coming in at almost 8 minutes. Ross sang the song in one take, dancing and laughing around the studio while recording. She knew that she would remain queen for a while yet, I guess...


Steely Dan - The Royal Scam

This is Steely Dan's second appearance on these lists. 1974 saw Pretzel Logic make the upper reaches and I remember struggling a little to say why I loved it so much. The truth is that not much has changed - There is still something weirdly undefinable about their charm for me. It's something about the sum of the parts.

This album is definitely jazzier than Pretzel Logic - although not as much so as Aja, their next album, and certainly not so much that you'd accuse it of being jazz rock or anything. To my ears, it's a lot more fun. Every track makes me smile, the melodies are bright and groovy - or as the band put it 'all fat and sassy'. Kid Charlemagne, with it's Kanye West sample intact, is pure ear candy, albeit in a weird, off-beat kind of way. The Fez is disco by way of Dan - quite what they won't do without their fez on isn't made clear, but I don't mind, so long as they do. Haitian Divorce, their only UK top 20 hit, is a rare example of cod reggae that works. Only for the title track at the end of the album does it get all slow and broody.

In all, once again, I'm not really sure why I like this record as much as I do - and that's OK. I guess that might be what happens when you get two perfectionists with brains the size of planets deciding to have a pop career. Even if they are far too sophisticated to easily be described as pop.


The Modern Lovers - The Modern Lovers

Steely Dan might be sophisticated. The Modern Lovers are not.

It's a bit of a cheat, really. This was recorded in 1973 and not released until '76. So while it sounds like it should be seen as piece along with the emergent cross-Atlantic punk scenes, it ought really to be seen in conjunction with its own primary influences - The Velvet Underground, The Doors, Stooges, shitty 60s garage rock. Indeed most of these recordings were produced by John Cale, and this should not come as a surprise. Several of the tracks here sound like they could have been taken from either of the first two Velvets albums.

I think that perhaps one major difference, however, is that these sounds so much more teenage. (The Velvets never sounded like teenagers.) They have two qualities that Reed never had - a dumb sense of humour. I don't think that Reed could ever have written something as stupid as Pablo Picasso (who could never have been called an asshole - not like you). Similarly while Reed could be tender at times, he rarely sounded as vulnerable as Jonathan Richman does. Richman's uncertainty with himself is played out in I'm Straight, a telephone call to a girl who he wants to date but who wants to date Hippie Johnny, who is always stoned. It's awkward and confused and difficult. It is in this that the Modern Lovers as a band work so well. The music is amateurish and simple - at times they make the Stooges sound clever and accomplished. It feels like it might fall apart at any moment, just like a typical teenager.

But again, just like a teenager, it bristles with energy and opportunity and potential. It breaks out new possibilities as it explores its own capacities.


David Bowie - Station to Station
(With a special nod to 1975's Young Americans)

Bowie has been missing from these lists since 72's Ziggy Stardust. It was because of Bowie that I gave myself the rule (or get-out) to skip albums by artists that I have written about too recently. After all, Aladdin Sane would have been in play for '73, Diamond Dogs was inescapable in '74 and Young Americans was an undoubted top ten in '75. I did not want this to be a Bowie blog, so I gave myself the rule. I couldn't hold off any more [and spoiler alert - Low is one of my favourite ever records - I'm not not writing about that in 1977!] - it is time.

Another reason why I am reluctant to write about Bowie is what can you say that hasn't been said a million times before. What on earth am I going to add here? Reinvention... yadda yadda.... chameleon.... yadda yadda...  ad infinitum.

I came to Station to Station late, to be honest. It was Caroline's favourite but aside from Golden Years it just didn't take root. I think that I thought that it was like all the ballads on Young Americans (which I did enjoy) but less fun and so rarely gave it the time it needed. It lacked immediacy or something. Out of some sense of obligation I bought the remaster in 2010, and then, the penny dropped. The twisted funk of Stay started to make sense, the slow encroaching grind of  Station to Station became clear, as did the plastic soul of the second section. The two ballads Word on a Wing and the Nina Simone cover (I know she didn't write but...) Wild is the Wind began to reveal their beauty to me. Repeated listens allowed me to revise my opinion that Station to Station was the lesser partner to Young Americans. I still think the former album is the more immediate and is perhaps more fun but this one deserves every accolade thrown at it.


Stevie Wonder - Songs in the Key of Life

Stevie Wonder had my #1 album for 1973 with Innervisions. This album is even better. It is truly a monster amongst monsters. Musical genius is a term thrown about too readily and too easily. Bowie almost certainly qualifies, but if anyone wants to doubt Stevie Wonder's eligibility (at least during this period) I will consider that fighting talk.

This album does mark the end of Stevie's purple patch, I think. I remember talk of Bertrand Russell saying that he could never do any truly serious creative work after the effort of writing Principia Mathematica - it literally wore him out. I wonder if the same thing could be said for Stevie and Songs in the Key of Life. Of course, he did other things and some of them were pretty cool - but the mantle of genius had passed. But what a way to go.

First of all, it's more than a double album. Not content with a double, Stevie added an extra three songs on a bonus 7". What makes the difference however is that every single damned song is awesome. There simply isn't a duff track. One or two might qualify as odd, I suppose. For instance, Village Ghetto Land's fake baroque stylings are a little jarring, but it grows on you and it's immediately followed by some of the coolest, hardest jazz-funk you'll hear all day - and that shit grooves. And that's followed by one of the greatest singles Stevie ever put out - Sir Duke. If you sit still or don't at least want to sing along, you might be dead - consult a physician.

And on it goes. Track after track after track. 21 in all. Go back, listen to them again, and listen to the details: the bells and chimes on Have a Talk With God, the crispness of the drums on I Wish, the strings and bass on Pastime Paradise. And on it goes.

I'm not a lyrics guy. This is well documented. But this is also a lyrical tour-de-force. Stevie wrestles with the usual themes of love and loss, etc., but also engages in some serious consciousness-raising (Black Man), social critique (Pastime Paradise), not to mention a paean to new parenthood (Isn't She Lovely) and, of course, a tribute to Duke Ellington (Sir Duke).

I guess you could say that Stevie's not the first or the last to be ambitious in his lyrical scope. True enough. But he NEVER drops the ball. Not once. There are plenty of good double albums out there, but how many are this perfect? How many aim so high and succeed? Not even The Beatles pulled that off.

When I looked at my long list, right at the beginning of thinking about 1976, I was uncertain whether there were ten albums of note. Straight away, however, I knew that this was going to be the one to beat. I believe that if this had been released any other year, it still would have been the one to beat.



On to 1977... It's going to be tough!




For the record...

11. The Eagles - Hotel California
12. Thin Lizzy - Jailbreak
13. The Mighty Diamonds - Right Time
14. Jean Carn - Jean Carn
15. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers - Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
16. Prince Far I - Psalms For I
17. Johnny Clarke - Authorised Rockers
18. Serge Gainsbourg - L'Homme A Tete De Chou
19. Loleatta Holloway - Loleatta
20. Syl Johnson - Total Explosion

And for those who really care, I will be discussing The Ramones' debut in the 'why not' section of the other 1976 post [Forthcoming].

Ten Other Albums from 1975

I'm going to tweak these secondary posts a little. Previously they've just been to talk about any other albums that I found interesting beyond the top ten. While there's still going to be a bit of that, I want to devote some space to why certain albums that might have been obvious inclusions in a 'best of' list weren't included.

For instance, a couple of readers (and myself) thought that there was a good chance that Born to Run by Springsteen might make the cut. It didn't, despite listening to it several times. Similarly, Mothership Connection. Why not?

I'll write a little about the worst albums - especially if they are from people you'd expect to do better.

The rest? Well, they'll still be a few records that I just find worthy of note - even if they're not 'the best'.

Why Not?

Let's get something obvious out of the way before we say anything else. Part of these judgements is taste pure and simple. I like a funky baseline more than I like a bitchin' guitar solo; similarly, I'm a pop kid at heart, so all things being equal, I'll go for hooks over something chin-stroky and interesting every time. Taste is always going to be part of my judgement - it doesn't mean I'm right.

Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run

Let's note this first - Born to Run is great, it established Springsteen as a great talent and force in popular music. It has at least two cast iron monster tracks in the title track and Thunder Road. It will always be in my CD collection.

But the headline is, aside from the tracks mentioned, I just don't feel as invested in the rest of the album. I know that a big part of Springsteen's draw is the small town narratives he paints, as a non-lyrics guy, these are likely getting passed over. If Bruce is going to make it to my top ten, but his tunes are going have to engage me 100%, and sadly, several of them don't. Night, for instance, is another mid-tempo rocker - it's fine but I'm not rushing back for more. Backstreets makes me remember how good The Band are.

Despite the status of Born to Run, there are other Springsteen albums I love more (The River, Nebraska). Time will tell whether they make the cut in their respective years - I suspect that one won't, but that the other might. We'll have to wait and see!

Parliament - Mothership Connection

Given my love of funk, a few people assumed that this would be a shoo-in for any list I had in mind. It's commonly regarded as one of George Clinton's finest works - one of the archetypical pieces in the P-Funk canon. It has an incredible list of players too - Bootsy Collins, Fuzzy Haskins, Bernie Worrell, Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker. It also has some of the finest, funkiest riffs to be found on any of the Parliament/Funkadelic albums.

But, damn, if this isn't the point that they all got stupid too... Take the opening track, P. Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up). It has a great bassline, the coolest chorus. But throughout it all, it's all silly voices, and the rhythm is at the service of the 'narrator' (which is, as James Brown said: talkin' loud and saying nothing), in that it stops for extended periods for noodling and more wittering. The title track is better, the groove is even more infectious and the sinewy chorus is undeniable - but dammit if Clinton won't just shut up! I wish 'Star Child' would just be quiet for a while...

There's a LOT to love here. I truly love pretty much anything Clinton did prior to this, but this album marks the point where the P. Funk universe begins to become an exercise in the trade off between silly narratives and amazing funk. There's enough awesome grooves here for me to still love this record, but it is diluted a little. Later on, it got worse...

Patti Smith - Horses

When I first knocked up the long list for 1975, this was one of a number of wild cards. It had been years since I last listened to it, but it's reputation was formidable. The album is regarded as one of the first fruits of the New York scene that ultimately begat Talking Heads, Television, Ramones and so on (even if Patti Smith's own background was far richer than many of her CBGBs peers). According to acclaimedmusic.com, it is the 23rd most acclaimed record ever made!

Much like the other records in this section, there's a lot to love here. Smith, of course, is a poet and her presentations of these songs are captivating. The music and production (by John Cale) is stark and austere, but never less than interesting and engaging.

So why not? For all it's beauty and art, it sits on the side of admirable - it's just not as much fun. A bit like my image of Patti Smith herself, it feels a little prickly and difficult. It is rightly confident of its importance, and listening to it again now, I'd happily defend that - but am I enjoying it as much as the records that made my list? - sadly no.

The Worst?

A bit of team-effort...

Serge Gainsbourg - Rock Around The Bunker

Jane Birkin - Lolita Go Home

I love Serge. L'Histoire De Melody Nelson was one of my favourites from 1971. He had a career stretching back to the 50s and was still releasing interesting albums into the late 1970s. But 1975 was evidently a weird year for Mr. & Mrs. Gainsbough. As we know, Serge took pleasure in being iconoclastic, a provocation - he was not deterred from trying to find the lines of transgression. Frankly, while he sometimes got it right (Je T'Aime, of course), he just as often got it wrong (Lemon Incest). As weird and creepy as the latter track was (check the video...), I'd still recommend it over this record, Rock Around the Bunker.

It is an album dedicated to or poking fun at the Third Reich. I'll quote a little from allmusic, which gives a more positive reception than I'm inclined to:

"..an album which can be (and indeed has been) described as either a European reclamation of the pop potential of the Third Reich, following the success of Mel Brooks' The Producers, or an acerbic reclamation of a Jew's own humanity 30 years after the Nazis forced him to walk the streets in a bright yellow star. Or, and seen within the context of its maker's entire oeuvre, it might just be the slaughter of another of the sacred cows which Gainsbourg found so irresistible."

It's really hard to know what to make of it. It's either hilarious or jaw-droppingly offensive. Perhaps neither, or both. I really don't know. But with song titles like Nazi Rock, Yellow Star and a cover of Eva Braun's favourite song (apparently) Smoke Gets in Your Eyes - which here manages a macabre double meaning.

I'd be more forgiving except that I really don't enjoy the music that much. It is pastiche rock and roll and not of the good sort. If I could buy into the lyrics (which are in French) or into the concept more, perhaps I'd at least see the funny side...

And talking of bad music, sadly his wife wasn't doing any better. Jane Birkin is not a great singer and her 70s albums are in many respects not much more than side projects for Serge, but a couple of her records are pretty good (never great - at least not until much much later in her career - see Arabesque). Sadly, though, this is just poor. It's weak as soft rock, it's weak as disco, it's weak as tarted up filth (Love For Sale).
Other albums I'd like to mention

Keith Jarrett - The Koln Concert

This is an album that I love very much - consider it utterly brilliant - but don't think I can honestly call it one of my favourites. I pick it up once every bunch of years, and when I do, when I am in the right mood, I adore it. In truth, however, if I put it on and I am not in that place, then not so much.

This is largely because of the nature of the album and there is a whole story that I'll sort of skip (but is worth investigating if this is your thing). In short, it is an hour long concert of improvised piano playing. Given that the piano in question is slightly out of tune forcing Jarrett to stick to the middle keys (that 'whole story' again), it is incredible the range of feeling that is brought out. It is a beautiful record and essential in the field of that sort of thing.

(16th most acclaimed album of 1975 according to www.acclaimedmusic.net, by the way!)

Willie Nelson - Red-Headed Stranger, Emmylou Harris - Pieces of the Sky & Elite Hotel

If there's one genre that has been given pretty short shrift over the years to date, it's country. Aside from Larry Jon Wilson, there has been nothing that could be categorically described as fitting that template and even then, it's a little leftfield. Part of what makes this an odd omission is that (a) I quite like a bunch of country records and artists; and (b), there have been some monster examples of the genre between 70-75. 1975 in particular has three stone cold classics (in addition to Wilson), and truth be told, probably more. My collection is under-representative here.

All the same, I really couldn't decide which of these three to highlight here - they all have things to recommend them. Willie Nelson's Red-Headed Stranger is a career high in a career that could justifiably be described as mountainous. It's simple, stark - almost all of it could be reproduced on a back-porch, and yet as song-cycle it is beautiful and affecting. Emmylou Harris made her debut in '75, having transitioned from a folkie to a country girl in apprenticeship to Gram Parsons. Her arrangements are fuller - closer to the Nashville stereotype of country music. But these two albums prove that she learned well what makes this Good Ol' Music tick. If you need proof of her talent and why she's regarded as one of the greatest female artists in Country along with Dolly, Tammy and Loretta check out her own Boulder to Birmingham on Pieces of the Sky. It was one of her earliest classics.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack

I am not a big musicals guy but there are one or two that have managed to burrow into my cold, dead heart and make a home there. Predictably, they (virtually) all date from the mid-70s (when I was most susceptible to such things, I'd guess). In honesty, I was in my teens when I first heard the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and back then it was all Time Warp, Sweet Transvestite and pretend transgressions. My friend Justina had the 'Audience Participation' version of the soundtrack, which she recorded for me and I listened to more than I'd be willing to admit. Anyway, over those many many many listens I grew a deep love of a bunch of the songs and the weird, twisted pastiche of rock'n'roll they presented. Susan Sarandon singing Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me, the Rose Tint My World suite, Tim Curry's I'm Going Home. These are all scratched like graffiti into my psyche whether I like it or not. (As well as the dumb-ass things that the audience shout out - thanks, Justina!)

Steve Harley & The Cockney Rebel - Best Years of My Lives

I've only recently dug into this guys records. I started with this one and worked backwards, picking up the first two Cockney Rebel disks - the ones with the guys that he sacked and then sung about on his one song, Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me). They're all still growing on me and so I still don't quite know where they will land in the final analysis.

Of course, his one song is incredible and rightly has claimed its place in the pantheon of great 70s songs. But there is a plenty of invention and creativity where Harley stretches and adapts what rock music can do. Unsurprisingly, there is a family resemblance with Bowie and Roxy Music. I'm not regretting rediscovering Cockney Rebel (of both iterations) - I'd definitely give them a whirl if you've not heard them.

Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes - Expansions

Throbbing Gristle ironically named their third (and best) album 20 Jazz Funk Greats. Having had many conversations with Bernard (who has a handful of years on me), I know the reputation that jazz funk had gathered by the end of the 70s and it wasn't a good one. I can't say what or why, but I'll wager my mother's grave that they had not been listening to THIS jazz-funk. Because it's awesome! (It only just missed on the top 10.)

It leans heavily on Latin rhythms and the spiritual jazz popular in New York and Chicago. It was on Bob Thiele's cool as a cucumber mid-70s jazz label, The Flying Dutchman. It has real echoes of Alice Coltrane's masterpiece Journey to Satchidananda or Leon Thomas' work with Pharoah Sanders, but in each case, keeping a foot more firmly in the funk camp. When Smith sings that we should expand our minds, this record was sure going to help!


For the record, 1976 is well under way... See you then :-)

10 'Best' Albums from 1975

I imagine that it's no surprise for me to say that I am really enjoying this project even though it takes me ages. For those that don't know, or have forgotten, I am selecting the best (for me - and for me alone!) albums of each year since I was born. I was born in in 1970, but since 1973, I upped the ante a little and so for each year I listen to every album that I own for the year, along with a small number streamed or bought especially for the project at least once. For 1975, I have listened to 99 albums.

Of course that is not all the albums that were released that year - but you have to cut it off somewhere!

Anyway, one of the reasons that I enjoy this project is that it forces me to listen to albums that I had forgotten about or neglected or sometimes never got around to listening to in the first place. For instance, I always held Physical Graffiti by Led Zeppelin as a solid album, but I can't remember the last time I listened to it in its entirety. Popping it on again now, I was blown away. There is so much more to it than I thought. It was a revelation.

Also, it's incredible to spend a sustained period listening to a single year. Last month I noted that Paul Weller had suggested that the mid-70s were a 'wasteland'. This exercise shows how wrong he is. The late 70s were undoubtedly rich in so many ways, but I never realised how much 1975 had to offer. Along with the soft rock, art rock and r'n'b that have been dominating my lists so far, '75 sees Jamaica literally exploding with talent, some astonishing music coming out of Nashville, not to mention Dusseldorf.

I know that sometimes folk get a little frustrated by things being missed out. In preparation for this year a few people had noted the inevitability of this or that album. I have listened to all of the albums that they mentioned (in a couple of cases three or four times), and only one of them have made my list. That is not to play down these records - without exception these 'inevitable' albums are great. But I have to underline the subjective nature of these lists. They're my best, not the best.

Since 1973 I have also written a second post for each year, noting ten other records that I think interesting. Some because they were awesome and I wanted to draw attention to them; some because they were awful in some ways that amuse me. One friend has suggested that this second post risks overkill. I take his point without reservation but I'm going to keep them going. Partially, this is because I enjoy them but it's also because my 11th best album of the year deserves a comment!

Finally, each year I skip writing about some albums to avoid the risk of writing about the same people again and again. I'm skipping Bowie's Young Americans and holding him off until next year and Fleetwood Mac until '77.. I'm also skipping Neil Young's Tonight's the Night, Richard and Linda Thompson's Pour Down Like Silver, Eno's Another Green World were skipped because I wrote about those guys last year.

If anyone wants to see the full list - here it is. Are you sure you want to, though? There's a Spotify playlist at the end.

And 1975's 10 'best' albums start with...

Larry Jon Wilson - New Beginnings

This is one of those dudes that almost no-one has heard of. I heard his name a few years back when he died. Will Oldham knocked out a tribute 7", covering one of his songs. I then found him popping up on a few Country Funk comps*. His albums are really difficult to pick up on CD, so it took me a long while until I managed to hear his first two albums - both of which are incredible. I still haven't heard his later albums.

Wilson is a country singer-songwriter who sits rights on that nexus between outlaw country and southern soul (like Bobbie Gentry or Tony Joe White). If you like either of those two genres, I promise you that you'll dig this album. Wilson didn't learn to play the guitar until he was 30 and it was a few years after that that he begun writing songs. So he has a maturity and a legitimate sense of observation in his pictures of southern life. He writes about what he knows and loves and when he's funky, you'll want to move, but when he cools down, you'll want to listen. The songs are so warm and world affirming, his voice such a deep, rich baritone - it's country funk via Santa.

It contains one of the most beautiful songs about parenthood I've ever heard. Bertrand My Son is about his son, who is paralysed. Wilson's hopes regarding Bertrand are so uplifting and heart-warming, as a relatively new parent again, it makes my eyes moist. And that's going some for me...

* If you can get your hands on the Country Got Soul comps on Casual Records, I cannot recommend them enough


Sam Dees - The Show Must Go On

Perhaps another name unfamiliar to most. Dees was mostly known as a songwriter and he wrote a load of late 60s/early 70s soul classics, especially out of Atlanta. He only produced one proper album and this is it. The formula is really straightforward: a great soul singer, great songs, dignified production, placing him somewhere between Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield and Teddy Pendergrass. When he sings about social issues, you know he's seen the ghetto. When he sings about love, as in Worn Out Broken Heart, it feels like he's had hard times in the romance department. Great choruses throughout - not a duff track to be found. Classic 70s southern soul.


Harmonia - Deluxe

I've always been slightly more an admirer than a fan of the so-called Krautrock scene. Looking at my lists so far, while German albums (Can, Popol Vuh, for example) have done consistently well, none have risen to the top. They're great records but they often manage, at least in part, to leave me a little cold in places. This album brings together the very best elements to bear all in one place and it's no surprise given the personnel. Harmonia is made up of Hans-Joachim Roedelius, Dieter Moebius and Michael Rother (and joined here by Guru Guru's Mani Neumeier), all of whom had impeccable CVs in the German music and arts scenes both before and after Harmonia (particularly being involved in the formative works of Kraftwerk, Cluster, Neu! and more). And it's no surprise that these guys were so influential over folk like Eno, Bowie, etc.

What this record achieves for me is an incredible marriage between warmth and coolness. It has that classic Germanic motoric beat and the synthesizers feel like they have been programmed by machines. Even Rother's guitars sound distant. Where there are vocals, they are repetitive and impersonal. And yet, the overall result is weirdly organic - like the machines are becoming aware of themselves in the music. It remains welcoming in its austerity - a benign aloofness. If I might extend my attempt to describe this music just a little further - it feels like a warm summer's evening on a planet far from home - but like, that's okay, you know...

I find it very hard to find the words to describe music sometimes. They are two utterly untranslatable languages. Despite this, I really enjoy trying.


Allen  Toussaint - Southern Nights

Another unsung genius, I'm afraid, although in recent years, up to and following his death in 2015, he has begun to achieve more widespread recognition. Toussaint was a writer and producer from New Orleans who was instrumental in defining the sound of that city as well as that which we now know as funk. He worked with all of the greats of that city from the 1950s onwards, and was viewed as a primary source of inspiration for dozens of artists far better known than himself - Dr. John, The Meters, The Neville Brothers, Irma Franklin, Lee Dorsey, Betty Harris to name a few.

But his own albums didn't sell very well. Toussaint hypothesised that they were 'too white to be black and too black to be white'. In other words, they were pitched too perfectly in between these distinct markets. I know what he he is getting at - Southern Nights does straddle both markets and you could imagine Robert Palmer or Elton John at his funkiest recording some of the songs. However, I am not sure that I buy this explanation. They do lack the deep groove of Memphis, or the slick rhythms of Philadelphia, but they sound every inch a New Orleans R'n'B record. Country John, the lone single from the album, has Professor Longhair all over it. The distinctive feel of New Orleans music is the second line drumming that gives it a marching quality, by which I mean that you could imagine it accompanying a march through the city streets.

At bottom, however, this is simply a record of top rate quality. Toussaint is an incredible songwriter and producer (he is accompanied in the producer's chair by another New Orleans master, Marshall Sehorn.) Every detail here is spot on. There is not a single song - not even a single note - that feels unnecessary. Every decision bears fruit. Hardly a month passes by without my popping it on and it never fails to do the trick.


The Tubes - The Tubes

Often lumped in with proto-punk, which it sort of is, but perhaps more so isn't, The Tubes debut album is one of the most bizarro records that ever attempted to hit the mainstream. Spoiler alert, while everyone hoped it was going to be huge, and it certainly could have been, a bunch of laudable, if weird, decisions, rendered it a cult artefact at the time of its release. Amongst these laudable, if weird, decisions, was to: a) have a genuinely wild stage show that meant it was really difficult if not impossible to make a profit; and b) refuse to do television spots unless they could perform a few songs in sequence, pretty much guaranteeing that publicity would be low.

Anyway, the record: At bottom, The Tubes are a power pop band with slightly proggy sensibilities. I sort of see them on the same spectrum as Supertramp, although that comparison fails to do justice to either band. Where The Tubes turn away is their willingness to extend wherever their narrative tells them, most obviously into Mariachi in Malaguena Salerosa. There is a wild hyperactivity about the songs that is exhilarating and thrilling, and sticks just the right side of manic - they might veer off the beaten track at any moment, or at least they feel like they might. That would all be fun, but what brings me back again and again is the musicianship and production are consistently incredible.

I forgot to mention: they can also be hilarious.


Led Zeppelin - Physical Graffiti

In my introduction I noted being surprised by this one. Every other record on this list gets played regularly. I doubt that six months go by without them getting a listen - certainly not a year. I honestly cannot remember the last time I listened to this in its entirety - not only which year, but perhaps which decade. Of course, I have listened to the odd song, Kashmir most likely, and I have always held it as a solid contribution to the Zeppelin discography as well as a rightly classic rock album. But listen to it as it was meant to be heard... perhaps 20 years?

So I'd forgotten a lot of it. The first thing that hits me about the mature Zeppelin sound is the super-immense drumming. It's been said before, but it really does feel like John Bonham is beating those drums with tree trunks - it's fucking HUGE. Jimmy Page's guitars are no less incendiary than ever they were. In In My Time of Dying (where I struggled to discern much of a 'song', by the way), Page slides his way through best part of twelve minutes chopping and changing riffs seemingly at will. Now that could have been tedious beyond words, but the energy and sheer relentless of it keep me hooked. Thankfully, while Trampled Under Foot sounds suspiciously like Stevie Wonder's Superstition, they manage to avoid the mistakes of The Crunge, and obviously Kashmir is massive, although amidst the general massiveness of the record, it felt a shade diminished.

And all that is just the first album. In the Light opens with a magnificent serpentine groove, Bron-yr-Aur allows Jimmy to show off for a moment with the finger picking he stole from Bert Jansch, and Down by the Seaside sounds like Led Zep's take on a Rolling Stones song (and is surprisingly good, as it happens). And on it goes. That a double album holds my interest so consistently is measure of how good these guys were. All I can add is that I will not be waiting 20 years before I pop it on again... No sir!


Burning Spear - Marcus Garvey

Jamaica had been producing great records since at least the 1960s. Ska had morphed into rocksteady and that had become reggae and it doesn't take much effort to uncover a bunch of great records. However, I'd argue that it took a few years until we started to see great reggae albums (in a similar fashion to our not seen many great Motown albums until the early 70s) - the marketplace in Jamaica being driven by singles, and it was only when reggae started being picked up by the markets in Britain and the US, that the economical value of the album as something distinct to a collection of singles took hold. Of course, Marcus Garvey was not the first reggae album - not by a long way. We've already seen The Wailer's' Burnin' on these lists. But the number of great reggae albums is increasing rapidly. There were several that figured highly in '75 and I'm already looking at '76, and there are comfortably more to come.

Burning Spear stands in contrast to Bob Marley's records. Island Records pushed Marley towards a production quality that would sell better in Britain and the USA, and, to be fair, they did a great job. Marley's records are fantastic. Peel away the slicker production and you get another picture of the heart of reggae, though. It is earthier, rougher, more stripped down. Marcus Garvey by Burning Spear is an exemplary example of roots reggae, steeped in the traditions of Rastafarianism. Led by Winston Rodney, whose chanted vocals are supported by Delroy Hinds and Rupert Willington, the whole album is loose in the best sense, in that the rougher edges all serve to make the record what it is - if we sought to smooth them off, it would lose their distinctiveness. All ten tracks, with support coming from the cream of Jamaica's musicians, create a gorgeous, haunting atmosphere, that lifts the spirit. It's notable that Rodney's chant-singing has the air of a seer or prophet, his pronouncements feel purposeful and portentous. All that would be great but uninteresting if the whole damned thing wasn't instantly appealing every single listen.

In researching this record I discovered that the mix of the album that was released by Island in '75 was not approved by Rodney. Apparently, they'd found it 'threatening' or something and so muted those elements. So far as I understand, the original mix is lost - I would love to hear it.




Paul Simon - Still Crazy After All These Years
(with a special nod to Art Garfunkel's Breakaway)

I love soft rock. The soft warm glow of an electric piano. Gentle songs sung slowly. Songs about love and loss, small moments of life. Songs that appeal to growing older - there's no need any more for being radical or making a statement. Songs that are unabashedly pretty. The early 70s produced many such records and one of my side projects is to gradually discover these great records; records that are so uncool, they have become cool again. 

It feels unfair to lump Paul Simon into the arena of soft rock, but the truth is, no matter how insanely good he is at writing songs, this record is rock (it ain't jazz, blues or boogaloo) and this record is soft (the only edge you'll find here is in some of Simon's most devastating lyrics). 

Every song here is gorgeous. There are the famous ones: the spectacular, cynical, 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover with its minor marching drums and hilarious lyrics; the warm, summery, Have a Good Time; the ruminative title track. These tracks alone would justify calling the record a classic, but we find a clutch of amazing songs too easily forgotten. There's the McCartney-esque I Do It For Your Love, the light blues of Some Folks Lives Roll Easy, the mournful Night Game.

Without a doubt the song I always enjoy the most is My Little Town, which functioned as a reunion of sorts with Art Garfunkel. It's such a lovely song, at once wistful and damning. Simon's songwriting craft is at it's very highest here - there are Paul Simon songs as good elsewhere in his discography but none better, and the arrangement is as rich as you could hope for.

Speaking of Art Garfunkel, he also released a record in '75. In all honesty it's not as good as the other records on this list, but it also possesses My Little Town as well as a series of smart and utterly beautiful cover versions. His version of The Flamingo's old I Only Have Eyes For You is almost as perfect as the original! We might not be so lucky to have a proper Simon and Garfunkel reunion, but this pair of albums is almost as good.

Queen - A Day at the Races

One of the questions that have been raised about both my '73 and '74 lists is where is Queen? The truth is, and I feel like I need to say this quietly, I am not sure I care too much for Queen's first three albums. I wonder if they are, in the most part, a singles rather than an album band. That is a controversial view, and I would not be surprised if there were a few folk that might disagree strenuously with me. Either way, the singles, especially on Sheer Heart Attack are phenomenal, but the albums leave me a little cool. I also wonder, and this might just be me seeing what I want to see, whether, it took a while for Queen to fully develop the vision or the confidence to produce a truly great album. Anyway, while I might be lukewarm about Queen's first three long players (and a few of their later ones), they definitely produced one bona fide monster.

A Night at the Opera sees Queen firing on all cylinders. All four members provide exceptional songs covering a wide reach of space. Of course, there are a clutch of hard rockers, but there are nods to folk rock, vaudeville and music hall, and then, of course, the elephant in the room that is Bohemian Rhapsody. Right from the off the album is committed to taking no prisoners. Death on Two Legs demands your attention with an array of production tricks that forbid you from letting you mind wander. As a song, both in terms of lyric and production it is intent on making a clear statement. It is relentless and vivid and it suddenly twists into the '20s pastiche Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon,  struggle to keep up. When we, mere moments later, slip into Roger Taylor's euphemistic I'm in Love With My Car, I hardly know what to think. All clever enough, except that each song is a killer. You'd think that Queen had just been given an ultimatum - compared to the previous albums, I wonder if they just been given a kicking and had to pull out ALL the stops.

Anyway, the album continues in this vein with no drop in quality. At the opening of side two, we hit The Prophet's Song, which, with the benefit from hindsight sounds like a warm-up for Rhapsody, with its expansive palette and operatic interludes. But I try to imagine hearing it before Rhapsody - listening to it with virgin ears in sequence. It would have blown me away. It's less dynamic but rockier, but again it feels like nothing heard before. But then a mere two songs later, Queen's most famous moment occurs....

I am not sure I can say anything about Bohemian Rhapsody that hasn't been said before. All I can say is that 44 years after release and having heard it a staggering number of times, it still sounds amazing. It's an incredible album.

Bob Dylan - Blood on the Tracks

Have you heard this record? Then you probably know why this is my favourite record of 1975.

OK... I'll write a little more.

Lyrics. I've written before about my relationship with lyrics. Dylan is one a relatively small number of artists whose lyrics I care about. But that said, even here, they rarely stick. I was thinking about this just before I popped the CD in; could I remember, in advance, any of the words? The answer, I'm embarrassed to admit, is no.

What happens is this: when I listen to a record, any record, I hear the words, but they quickly slip back into obscurity as if into quicksand. So I receive an impression of the lyrics, but if you were ask me once the record had finished, I'd struggle to remember more than fragments. Even songs I've heard a million times, if I try to sing along, I'll nearly always get it wrong - and quite a lot so. Bella will attest. But here's something interesting, when I put the record back on, my memory of the words reoccur split seconds before they are sung, like the words on a karaoke screen. I put it down to brains, how they're different.

So what to say about this album which has been rightly lauded as amongst the most incredible examples of lyricism ever committed to wax? I enjoy Dylan's turn of phrase and the imagery that he conjures. I enjoy the bitterness of the record, the ruefulness, the weariness of it all. I have a suspiciously unpleasant sense of joy every time I listen to Idiot Wind and Dylan sings that it's a wonder that the subject knows how to breathe. Such a devastating line!

But what I love, insanely, is the musicality of the record. People obsess so much about Dylan's poetry, I fear that often the gorgeous, beautiful melodies that are produced. Again, as my friend Steve is keen to point out, Dylan's voice is often under-rated, regarded as a poor singer. I'll concede he is an irregular vocalist, but this album is a towering testament to the beauty and range that he can produce. Listening to You're a Big Girl Now, Dylan's voice soars. Of course, he also picks jaw-dropping musicians with an incredible sense of dynamics. Every song rolls and builds with the demands of the verbal needs - rising up in anger or sinking down in despair.

If I lost all sense of words, I'd still choose this as my number one album of 1975.