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].
