Ten Other Albums from 1976

It's been a long time since my last post about years. I have not forgotten but a few things got in the way. My Mum died - that de-railed things quite a lot. In addition I have had a lot of work and I had a huge influx of CDs to listen to. All the same, I've been keeping half an eye on the blog, wondering when I'd get it together to return. If there is an upside of the coronavirus, perhaps this will be it.

Of course, if I get Covid-19 and die, this may age very badly indeed.

So these side posts are intended to comment a little on a few that didn't make the top ten. I'll mention a couple that missed out that perhaps people might ask 'why not?' I'll comment on a few that are worthy of comment, even if they're not 'the best'. I'll talk about one of the worst albums of the year. Finally, taking advantage of the passing of time, I'll note a couple of albums that I have bought since that initial post that were interesting.

The Ramones - The Ramones

I strongly suspect that if any number of people read this and the original post (they almost certainly won't), a good proportion will be loudly complaining about the absence of this record. I really don't care very much, but here's why (it ain't complicated): even at 29 minutes it outstays its welcome.

There are 14 songs squeezed into this record. The first two are classics. Both Blitzkrieg Bop and Beat on the Brat. Most of the rest of the songs sound like those two, only less good. A couple of songs sound like I Want to Be Your Boyfriend. This is a de-sophisticated version of Phil Spector songs. Not a bad idea and it has some charm. I think that Jesus and Mary Chain did it better, but even so. I kind of get that there is an energy to be found in The Ramones that was sorely lacking in much music from the mid-70s, and the back to basics simplicity of it is liberating. That is fine and if we want to mark The Ramones as a document of that musical turn, then cool - I'll not argue. But you want to say that this is a great album or a high-water mark or something, I'll pass. It's alright. It's two ideas played out 14 times. For my money, 12 times too many.

To clarify: I don't hate this record. It's OK. I just think it's massively over-rated.

The Eagles - Hotel California

The question of why this did not hit the top ten is pretty straightforward - it was pipped at the post. It was a super close number 11 in the mix. There are no two ways about it, this is an incredible record. It is probably fair to say, however, that the best thing about it is also it's biggest problem - and that is the title track. Despite being permanently on the cusp of overplay, it never fails to impress. It's a perfect storm of mid-70s rock tropes; the strained West-coast singing, twin guitars, light reggae rhythm guitar, sophisticated production. But above all, it's a great song that pretty much begs to be sung along to. It's so great that despite being followed up by seven other genuinely solid tracks, none of them quite compare with it. They are all worth your time, though. New Kid in Town marries gentle country rock with latin medodies, Life in the Fast Lane is all rock and roll boogie, Wasted Time is a classic rock ballad, and so on. Each and every one top notch, but not one half as good as Hotel California. Sadly, that's how a great album misses out on being in my top ten.

Starcastle - Starcastle

You know when punks and old music journalist's say that punk was needed to wash away the tedious self-indulgence of prog rock, this is what they have in mind. I'm not a big fan of prog, but I don't mind it - I've a few records by Genesis, and Rush, and so on. But what those bands do is remember to include the bloody tunes. These guys are undoubtedly talented, but there are no hooks, no melody lasts long enough to become familiar, there's no fun, no soul. Frankly, I hated it. When ranking it, they got a couple of points for being good musicians, half a point for the pretty cover, and a point for having a similar musical palette to Marillion (who I love). Beyond that they can fuck right off.


Barbra Streisand & Kris Kristofferson - A Star is Born

Unlike Starcastle, I don't hate this album. Firstly, it's a good deal better. It contains a sold-cold classic song in Evergreen. This is just the sort of song that Streisand excels at; it's a beautiful piece, delivered perfectly. It also homes a hidden gem: Queen Bee. This sneaky little slice of gussied up R&B is sexy and cool. It channels early 60s girl groups and adds a pawing, grasping sensuality that, surprisingly, Streisand pulls off convincingly. Sadly, it's the rest of the album that is disappointing. While Streisand's songs are mostly boring, Kristofferson is embarrassing. In the film he plays a great rock star whose career is faltering, just as he is bringing up a new singer who is rapidly eclipsing him. Drama ensues, etc. Anyway, you know how ageing rock stars sometimes release records that are trying too hard - yes, that's the problem. His songs are utterly unconvincing. I like Kristofferson's own material - he's a great songwriter. Here, not so much.


Leo Sayer - Endless Flight

I always feel bad for Leo Sayer. He was a talented guy in a whole bunch of ways, but the odds seemed against him. Around '76 he lost whatever 'cool' he had and seems to have been deemed 'uncool' ever since. For reasons that are slightly boring, I picked up a Leo Sayer boxset a few years ago and at least two people have judged me poorly for its possession. Now please, I'm not in the slightest bit bothered for me - I can take it - it's Leo I feel bad for. He deserves better and if you want to see why, give this album a whirl.

In 1976, I think that Leo faced a difficult choice. His third LP, while it sold well, produced only one hit and I wonder if he was falling rapidly out of fashion. He had risen to fame as a singer-songwriter, somewhere around the nexus of Bowie's folksier material, Elton John's softer, more lyrically adventurous side (courtesy of Bernie Taupin, of course), and ultra-soft heart-on-their-sleeve troubadours like Gilbert O'Sullivan. By '76, Bowie had moved on, O'Sullivan had disappeared in a funk - only Elton was hanging on. What's more, the UK music scene was heading towards the pub rock/ nascent punk scene. This did not suit Leo very well, and so his best call was to go to the US and embrace pop with a capital 'P'. He was placed in the care of hitmaker Richard Perry who sidelined Sayer's own material and focused more squarely on covers, and hits.

The outcome is a pretty solid album. It's not all killer and the biggest hit of the record, When I Need You, tilts towards the overly sentimental (it is incredibly appealing, though). But when it's good, this is great music. It has the awesome, Bee Gee aping You Make Me Feel Like Dancing, which still stands up as a soft disco giant. His cover of Danny O'Keefe's Magdalena is lilting and compelling. The title track is my favourite, an Andrew Gold cover; I think it's comparable with Elton's best work.

I think this is a album well worth spending time with. For the record, the three preceding albums are all good (his debut Silverbird, especially). The albums that follow steadily dip into the 80s, hitting a low with Have you Ever Been In Love (which ought to win an award for depressing album covers). After that, perhaps because he headed back towards what he was best at - being a singer-songwriter, they pick up again. Voice in My Head is pretty decent.


Ned Doheny - Hard Candy

The music business is full of injustices - people that should have made it but didn't. It's just the nature of the game: poor promotion, bad timing, just not quite latching onto the zeitgeist, sometimes despite everyone's best efforts a record just doesn't hit. That is certainly the case with this dude. Doheny is a rich kid from the west coast who wanted to make records. He was talented, had money, good connections, made a few killer records. Sadly, they only really hit in Japan. What're you gonna do?

This is pretty much the textbook definition of Yacht Rock. It's smooth soft rock with a deep R&B underbelly. A lot has been made of the venn diagram between country rock and southern soul - this is the mid-70s west coast equivalent. And it's smooth, it's soft, it grooves - it's catchy as hell. If you have a yacht, then this will see you good, but frankly a yacht is not necessary. A sunny day, a cold drink and a garden will do it. The lead track Give It Up For Love has rightly been getting some play recently with the overdue re-evaluation of 70s soft rock. That track is a legend, but frankly, the whole LP deserves love.

Deaf School - 2nd Honeymoon

This is a strange album. Partly because of what it is - cabaret-inspired art-rock - but more so because of the role it plays in the history of Liverpudlian music. To present it all rather simplistically; the sixties had The Beatles and after an initial flush of merseybeat bands, the city, musically at least, ran aground. In the early 70s, there was no real scene to talk of until these art-school kids formed a band. Favouring art over substance, their shows became a local attraction on account of their imaginative and ridiculous shows, and consequently over the next year or two rebirthed the city's music scene. Winning the Melody Maker Rock, Folk and Pop Contest in '75 led to a record contract. This, their debut, was produced by Muff Winword, ex-Traffic, fresh from producing Sparks and it's quite something.

It's a really fun record. It flips between pub rock, cabaret, polkas, vaudeville, without much warning. It is wholly unpredictable, but it is never off-putting, taking itself too seriously, or by being clever-clever. It is weird but welcoming. The tunes are catchy and joyous and engaging. It's no surprise, then, that Deaf School lent a nurturing hand to the smaller band forming in their wake, inspired also by the noises coming from London; bands which would, in their own time, become big bands - far more well known than their mentors here. Big in Japan, populated by Holly Johnson (Frankie Goes to Hollywood), Ian Broudie (The Lightning Seeds), Bill Drummond (The KLF), Budgie (Siouxsie & The Banshees) and Jayne Casey (Pink Military), were founded and lent support by Deaf School as a favour. Guitarist Clive Langer supported and produced The Teardrop Explodes. There's no doubt that punk would have hit Liverpool regardless of Deaf School and that these talents and artists would have emerged anyway, but that it developed the way that it did was thanks in no small part to Deaf School. And that alone makes them notable.

Jean Carn - Jean Carn

The mid-70s saw a new archetype emerge from the fields of soul music. It would be tempting to suggest that soul music began to stagnate in the 70s. The world conquering sound of Motown and Stax had either passed or morphed into something less distinct. Of course, this claim is false. It didn't stagnate but it did change and those that were unable to adapt lost their relevance. One way that a certain sort of singer  - most commonly female - was able to manoeuvre, was to become a wholly new thing: the disco diva. Some had been plugging away for years, never quite making it (Gloria Gaynor), some transitioned smoothly from Southern Soul (Candi Staton), and some just found their feet in the sound (Donna Summer). Evidently, some names made it into the eternal consciousness of pop music, but some others slipped back into obscurity.

Jean Carn is one of those singers. Her most notable hit was 1978s Don't Let It Go To Your Head Now, covered, pretty much note for note by The Brand New Heavies in 1990. This was her debut solo album. She was married to Doug Carn, a player with Earth, Wind and Fire; she'd sung on a couple of their earlier albums, as well as singing with Norman Connors. Signing to Philadelphia International, she was given the best writers and arrangers (Gamble & Huff, Dexter Wansel, McFadden & Whitehead) and made a gorgeous record that covers the bases between uptempo dancefloor stompers, deep ballads, and jazzy excursions - check out You Are All I Need, it could be a Charles Stepney arrangement.


Cloud One - Atmosphere Strut

Here's a total obscurity. You might recognise bits and bobs from it as it's been sampled by some cool kids, but if you're anything like me, you'll never have heard of him. Cloud One is basically a dude called Patrick Adams, a producer from New York. When away from his duties producing early disco for a clutch of virtually forgotten labels, had the freedom to make his own sounds on the P&P label, which he did, almost single-handedly. The album is made up of five cosmic, blissed out disco gems. In short, each track is comprised of a solid, if moderately generic, disco rhythm. On top of that are the coolest, spaciest, squidgiest synth lines and ultra-repetitive female vocal lines that all become one and whisk you away. The title track is intoxicating - play it loud in the right head space and you'll NEVER want it to end. It's criminal that this is so unknown. It's rough around the edges, but if you like mid-70s deep disco, this is for you. Insanely good.


Alan Parsons Project - Tales of Mystery & Imagination

I picked this up most recently. It was in the sales at HMV for £3 and after quickly noting it's 4.5/5 rating on allmusic, figured it was worth a punt. I knew nothing of The Alan Parsons Project and truth be told, I still don't beyond this one. On paper, it sounds like it ought to be a little dull and worthy, but every time I pop it I'm pleasantly surprised at how immediate and engaging it is. It also sounds fresh still and not a time-capsule as some albums of a similar ilk can do. Fun fact: The Raven was the first rock record to feature a vocoder.

In short, Alan Parsons was a studio rat who, armed with synths and production nous, as well as some fancy-pants friends, began some artsy projects over the mid to late 70s and 80s. This one is all inspired by the writings of Edgar Allen Poe. He drafts in folk like Orson Welles to read a bit, and then some catchy, proggy, nonsense (see Starcastle, this is how it's done). Anyway, it's jaunty, has a nice groove. It's clever but it never lets that get in the way of a good tune. I recommend it.