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.

Ten Other Albums From 1974

We've seen the 'best' of 1974, but of course there is far more to the year than those 10 records. Here I try to do a little justice to that by noting the runners up and some of the other records that year that warrant a little mention. I'll try to be brief!


First Runner Up: Shuggie Otis - Inspiration Information

This was so close to the Top Ten. Right up until the last moment, this, Betty Davis and Funkadelic were all neck and neck for the 9th and 10th positions. I’m still not sure that I made the right decision. All three are funky, but Shuggie’s funk is far lower key than the others. It feels like a warm, humid night. Even on the odd occasions where the tempo picks up a little, it still resists the urge to build up too much steam. Tracks like Aht Uh Mi Head have an almost DIY quality to it. It feels a little like prime Timmy Thomas or Sly Stone at his most withdrawn.

At the time this album did not get the credit it deserved. It was mostly ignored. Thankfully, time has proven more generous. It’s idiosyncratic, sinewy funk has ended up being far more influential. It’s a timeless record. Please check it out.


Second Runner Up: Bee Gees - Mr. Natural

The Bee Gees are without doubt one of the most misunderstood of bands. The parodies, the cliches and that Clive Anderson interview seem to have coloured people's impression of them despite their having a series of hits more impressive than most other bands. If you haven't read it, I'd strongly recommend having a look at Bob Stanley's book Yeah Yeah Yeah, in particular the chapter on the Brothers Gibb. It considers both the heights that they reached and goes some way to account for why they were such odd and prickly characters, so easily misunderstood.

Alongside Shuggie, Mr. Natural fell very close to the top ten albums of the year, despite its having no hits that you'd recognise. It sat at a weird juncture for the band. After the heights of their late sixties recordings, they had begun to flounder in the early 70s. They decamped to the US and here joined forced with legendary producer Arif Mardin who has produced many many incredible records. With him the Bee Gees began to explore their love of R'n'B, which was more thoroughly explored on Main Course, Children of the World and Spirits Having Flown. Here we have 11 fully realised songs that are relentlessly gorgeous and always interesting. With Mardin at the helm you'd expect the production to be lush and spectacular, but the core songs never fail either. In the time since I bought it - only about two years ago thanks to a recommendation (from Nick) - this has been the Bee Gees album that I come back to the most and it never fails.

Hidden Treasure Award: Sparks - Kimono My House

I only started listening to Sparks albums earlier last year. I was listening to their massive This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us at about the same time that their squillionth album Hippopotamus  was getting loads of critical acclaim. I found myself wondering what their 40+ career was all about, and decided to pick up some of their albums. Naturally, I started with this one (although it was followed almost instantaneously by others). What I found was a band of such wild invention and creativity that sometimes it was too much to take. Russell Mael (the one who doesn't look like Hitler) sings in a faux-operatic style that sometimes slips into fey music-hall manner-isms. Ron Mael (the one who does look like Hitler), the writer of most words and all music, is likely insane, or a genius (or both?). The melodies are bewildering, the lyrics more so. The result is a band that is never boring and always entertaining. Of the albums I have picked up so far, this one is essential. It's follow up, Propaganda (also from 1974), is almost as good, and so, just as essential. There are some later albums I think even better, so this will not be the last we hear of Sparks on this blog.

Misunderstood Award: Hot Chocolate - Cicero Park

Hot Chocolate are another of those bands that it is real easy to make assumptions about. They are so embedded with their massive hit You Sexy Thing that it quickly eclipses everything else about the band. In truth, there was a lot to them - from their very curious cover of Lennon's Give Peace a Chance (on Apple records, no less); their legendary and oft-covered suicide epic, Emma; and of course, the many disco hits. What is less well known are their folky origins and their social and political awareness. Tracks like Brother Louie, A Child's Prayer, and Rumours reveal a thoughtfulness not observed in So You Win Again.

Hot Chocolate were not a great albums band. Most of their best work were on singles, to be honest. But if you were to get an album, this would be the one to get*. It has a solid mix of their conscious songs like the title cut and Could Have Been Born in the Ghetto, which are both broad and cinematic in scope and as cool as anything happening stateside (yup, they were British...). It also has the aforementioned Emma, and a solid early dancefloor classic with Disco Queen, which is damned cool. In truth, this is never going to album of the year, but it's a great introduction to the band and offers a real defence as a band that deserves more credit.

* I've got to admit, I quite like their second, third and fifth albums too... I'm not ashamed.

Worst Album of the Year Award: Fatback Band - Feel My Soul

This party band were partying TOO damned hard to notice what was wrong with this record. Firstly the name which sounds like a parody. Secondly, the vocals. It sounds like they grabbed some coke-addled teenager from the street and forced him at gunpoint to sing. Exhibit A is Baby Doll, which is beyond words bad and has the audacity to be over seven minutes long. It's a real shame because they were a pretty awesome party band and even here there are some killer cuts - Njia Walk (Street Walk) is a party all unto itself. But nothing can erase those vocals from my mind.


Poor Ranking But Still Essential Award: Kraftwerk - Autobahn

I should probably explain the tracklisting here. The album has five tracks. The first, Autobahn, is 23 minutes long. The remaining four make up side 2 and total just under 20. They were also only just beginning to perfect the sound that they would be known for, and even then, only really on the title cut. Autobahn is awesome but I consider open for debate whether it is 23 minutes awesome. Unless you are in the Kraftwerk sweet spot exactly, it might begin to outstay its welcome. The second side - well, they're interesting tracks and key building blocks to what they were going to do next, but again, not really the most fun in themselves. I will admit to having a soft-spot for Morganspaziergang, in particular the flute bit, but even then... In all, it is an interesting and important record - I wouldn't want to be without it - but it's primary strength is for giving a sense of the progression of the band, but not necessarily for being a fun one to listen to.


Ahead of it's Time Award: Dadawah - Peace and Love

In short, Rastafarian meditation music. It sits alongside some of the music that Lee Perry was to produce (with The Congos, for example) and stands as a place marker for music that would arrive a little later via the productions of Adrian Sherwood (African Head Charge in particular). It's reggae, of course, but not as we're typically used to it. It is drum music, chant music - music where the structure has been slowly dismantled and only the underlying rhythm and melody remains, which, amidst the chant-singing is added to, taken away from. It is genuinely spiritual music and very warm to let wash over you. If you think that music and religion shouldn't mix - this is the record to put you straight on that!

Phase Two Award: Robert Wyatt - Rock Bottom

The story of Robert Wyatt bears repeating. He was the drummer in one of the cooler, jazzier, prog rock bands, Soft Machine. He was working on some songs for his second solo album when he fell from a fourth storey window, a fall that left him paralysed from the waist down. In short, Wyatt retooled and reframed to accommodate this new reality. Rock Bottom was the first album to emerge and it signalled that Wyatt was not going to conform to anyone’s expectations. It’s six tracks exist in a barely structured cloud, where Wyatt and his collaborators form delicate shapes and patterns. It feels extemporised, but I suspect that it’s all more deliberate than that. The net result is a beautiful if sometimes disconcerting series of pieces that are distinctly minor key and yet ultimately liberating. I definitely recommend it.

Never-ending Genius Award: Stevie Wonder Presents Syreeta

Rita Wright, a.k.a. Syreeta, ex-wife of Stevie releases another monster collaboration. The two had released a killer in 1972, entitled simply Syreeta. Two years later, the marriage is on the rocks, but they remain friends and still pull out a great record. It is more of a pop confection this time. The earlier record had a jazzier, more deconstructed feel, whereas the structures of this album are more built up. But it is relentlessly catchy - exactly what you'd expect from Stevie Wonder. Syreeta's sweet soprano is up front and more strident on this record - it's funkier and it stands out more. Listening to Come and Get It, it stands up today and not simply as a period piece. Even ballads like Heavy Day avoid being over-sentimental and mawkish. It's the sound of summer and good times - it's impossible not to love.


Neglected Classic Award: John Lennon - Walls and Bridges

I can never decide which of the Beatles' post-Beatles careers I value the most. I've pretty much settled on the view that the best album is George's All Things Must Pass. I've been spending a lot of time lately with Paul's albums and my estimation all-in-all is increasing. But I think I am still tilting towards John. Imagine and Plastic-Ono Band are obviously the high-points, but this album comes in a close third. It bewilders me that it still suffers from some mixed reviews. Sure, there are one or two missed opportunities, but there are enough crackers here to defend it.

It has the shiny irrepressible Whatever Gets You Thru The Night with Elton John, which is just a whisper away from disco, the gorgeous #9 Dream with its incomprehensible lyrics, and the angry John of old with Steel and Glass. The primary feeling one comes away with, however, is a quieter, thoughtful, reflective Lennon. It came at the end of his 'Lost Weekend', just as he was about to reunite with Yoko, and the record catches this mood. Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out and Scared reflect John's uncertainties, while Bless You is a beautiful piece of Yacht Rock expressing his abiding love for his estranged wife. It's a pretty complete album and deserves more recognition.

10 'Best' Albums From 1974

So 1974. I finished this list a few weeks ago, but other stuff kept me from writing it. Here we are!

I feel like I ought to remind folk that I try not to talk about the same artists again and again, so I skip people if they've shown up too recently. So even though David Bowie (Diamond Dogs), John Cale (Fear) and Roxy Music (Country Life) all had massive albums this year, I've not included them in the list.



1974

One reader suggested that an overview of the time might be a nice add-on to these posts. I have given it a go. I ended up writing quite a lot and even after a good edit, it's still quite long*. Please let me know what you think. I still like the idea but I might do it once every couple of years.

In one sense 1974 is much like every year - if you look over the Singles Charts, it's not looking good. The charts are dominated by glam rock (not necessarily the good stuff) and middle of the road fluff. There's Gary Glitter, Alvin Stardust, Suzi Quatro, Mud, and Sweet (etc. etc.). All fine singles in their way, I suppose, but there's a reason why we have forgotten most of them. And then there's Lena Zavaroni, Lulu, Terry Jacks, Perry Como. Paul Weller recently described the mid-70s as 'a wasteland'. You can find evidence for that claim in the Charts, but I am not convinced.

After all, if you look closer to the charts, you can see the signs of better things. Bowie, Roxy Music, Sparks and 10cc all appear, as does Stevie Wonder and the Isley Brothers. It's clear that things are changing even if it is not necessarily obvious.

In rock music, heavy and progressive rock is still in the ascendancy. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Deep Purple along with Floyd, Genesis and King Crimson were shifting boatloads of records. But there were others who seem to be looking to a different future. Most obviously there were the art rockers like Bowie, Roxy, Eno and Sparks who all continued to draw from rich seams opened by the Velvets, Stooges and Doors. Of course, Reed, Cale and Pop were themselves revitalised and producing some of the best music of their careers. Another prominent influence was the second wave of the German avant-garde - Can, Cluster, Faust, Neu! and of course Kraftwerk. These would offer endless inspiration to those who would appear in the later 70s.

Another view of the future came from a group who were resolutely looking to the past - the pub rockers. Bands like Dr. Feelgood were drawing upon blues and RnB revivalism but their music was defined more by energy and enthusiasm than by double-necked guitars and technically perfect guitar solos. (It's no surprise then that much of the early punk scene had connections to the pub-rock scene - I'd argue that from a genre point of view, they're virtually siblings.)

Away from rock, new things were happening elsewhere too. Black American music was diversifying. Disco had not quite erupted, but it is plain that it was already making a serious impact, especially in the smooth soul powerhouse of Philadelphia. Southern Soul was on the decline in 1974 but it was still packing a punch - Ann Peebles, Al Green and Millie Jackson were all making killer records. And then there was funk, which was developing into something wholly new. The stripped back sound of James Brown was still present but it was increasingly overlaid with ... well, frankly, anything and everything; from Hendrix to Jazz to Disco.

And it was not all about the USA and Europe. Jamaica was onto its third internationally recognised genre: reggae (after rocksteady and ska). Even reggae was beginning to develop and diversify in 1974. There was the poppier end of reggae, represented by John Holt and Jimmy Cliff and then there was Roots. Beyond Jamaica, African music was beginning to draw a lot of attention. Over the next decade this would spread across the whole continent, most notably South Africa, Mali, Senegal and Nigeria.

In headline, like any year, if you look at the froth of what the music business produced in 1974 you might conclude that it was a wasteland. But this is a mistake, like most of the 70s, it was a rich time. It was rich in its own right, and not simply in what because of what it was pointing towards.

* Even then, I think I have barely scratched the surface...

Funkadelic - Standing on the Verge of Getting It On

Funkadelic's debut was a major player on my 1970 list. What marked that album out in my mind was the murky, smoky underworld it inhabited. Sure, it was funky, but it felt like something you'd find deep in the woods - something enticing but slightly dangerous. It had a similar sort of vibe, in my mind anyway, to Dr. John's debut Gris-Gris.

That Funkadelic is still here. Red Hot Mamma has a riff that wouldn't have been out of place back then. The twelve minute closer Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts is as spacey as anything on the first album or Maggot Brain, and the monologue is just as ridiculous.

But by this point, the Parliament-Funkadelic train has long since left the station and they are well on their way to the mothership. Everything is so much brighter, clearer - in sharper focus. It is more confident and sure of itself. The hooks are more forward. The groove on I'll Stay is beyond infectious and it find its way into my memory that I'll be humming it for days. The title track opens with the silly voices that begin to characterise P-Funk, but once it kicks in, it's as celebratory and exciting as anything that Sly Stone could muster. And that's plenty recommendation all by itself.

Betty Davis - They Say I'm Different

This won't take long. While it's a killer album, it's pretty simple. Betty Davis, ex-wife to Miles (who turned him on to Hendrix, Sly Stone etc.) (who was a little much for him to handle!) (who wrote He Was A Big Freak about him), rides some of the dirtiest funk ever written. In contrast to Funkadelic, it is closer to the Family Stone, lacking the murky psychedelics.

This is tighter and rougher. Check out the bass-drum-keyboards of He Was a Big Freak. It's a beat that picks you up and beats you right back down again. Betty is not intimidated by it, but instead towers over it; purring, growling, shrieking, disclosing secrets that I'll bet made Miles blush.

Betty's vocal performance is aggressive and relentless; the music is funky and fierce. It is stripped down with no unnecessary embellishments - it gives you what you need and no more. This album is short, hard and unapologetic - perhaps the hardest of the whole list. It will not let you sit still.

Blue Oyster Cult - Secret Treaties

Everyone knows (Don't Fear) The Reaper but this was my real introduction to the band. I'd heard two things about them; they were a little occultic (they were the first to lay claim to the umlaut, after all); and/or, they came with some serious song-writing credibility - Patti Smith and Richard Meltzer - often regarded as the first serious rock critic. I'm not at all sure about the first point, but the second is true.

In truth, I really like 75% of this album, but I only love the last two tracks. But I LOOOVE those two tracks. The album is hard rock and stands in contrast to riffage of Sabbath and Purple; I'd argue that it stands more as a precursor to the NWOBHM. All of the first six tracks kick ass as solid rock tunes; they're quirky and inventive in their decision-making. They're all sort of funny lyrics-wise, which is why I take their alleged occultic leanings as more of come-on than anything else - just check the titles; Career of Evil, Dominance and Submission, Harvester of Eyes. 

And then there are the final two tracks. Flaming Telepaths opens with a great riff hovering over a great beat. Lyrically, it sends you off in one direction before doubling back in another. Is it about drugs, is it about deception? Is it about altered realities or is it all a double bluff, and it is all about the confusion of the listener trying to make sense of it all - 'the joke's on you!' they sing. The rhythm is propulsive, before a massive, almost psychedelic climax, which tumbles into the relative calm of the album's closer Astronomy. I'm not even going to start making sense of it - having the lyrics booklet is no help at all. It's a damned catchy song even if it is incomprehensible.

Barry White - Can't Get Enough

If you're spotting this and groaning, muttering about my having a problem, or being cheesy; even if you're chuckling and thinking of the ol' Walrus of Love, then stop it! Go and listen to this album with fresh ears. It is what you think it is, but it is SO much more. Barry White is a bona fide genius along with his long time arranger, Gene Page.

His M.O. is simple: pick up from where Isaac Hayes left off, up the lush string arrangements, and throw as many damned hooks at it as you can. Every song is catchy and you can sing along. If the song is made for the dance floor, damned straight you can dance to it; if it's for the bedroom, well, you know what to do... Every monologue is just the right kind of cheesy, and you know, I think he means every word. The joke is that he is responsible for his own baby boom - definitely possible. If you're in love, Barry's got your back.

The main thing is that the quality is there. Barry White had a great run in the early 70s and the dude was busy. Aside from his own LPs, he was writing and producing for Love Unlimited and the Love Unlimited Orchestra. In 1974 he produced albums for Jay Dee and Gloria Scott, and both are good, worth a listen. Of his own albums, every one from '73-'79 are worth a listen. But this is the one, if a gun was forced to my head and I had to pick just one. It has two of Barry's monster hits You're My First, My Last, My Everything and Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe as well as a clutch of other great tracks. I Can't Believe You Love Me is 10 minutes and he makes each one count.

I love Barry White, and Barry White loves you.

Neil Young - On The Beach

I debated whether I should include this record. After all, Young's Harvest figured big in 1972 and I don't want to write about the same artists every year (Hello, David Bowie!). But this is such a different record to Harvest. To say that they are opposites would be to overstate matters, but they are separate beasts.

It's incredible to think that this album waited SO long for a CD release as well - it was finally issued in 2003 after falling out of print on vinyl in the early 80s. The story goes, as I understand it, that coming off the back of the mega-success of Harvest, his guitarist, Danny Whitten died of an overdose. This event plus Young's own erratic nature led to his producing three of the rawest albums of his career. The first, which is still not available on CD and that I haven't heard still, Time Fades Away was recorded live. Tonight's the Night was recorded next but released last (in 1975) and On the Beach was recorded last, but released in 1974. What binds these albums together is raw, unflinchingly honest personal song-writing, recorded sparsely with very light production. While I love Tonight's the Night, this is my favourite work by Young by far.

While the album kicks up with the chipper Walk On, it quickly turns dark. See The Sky About To Rain is a lovely, if melancholy, country rock tune but as the title suggests it points to something ominous. What that might be is given more detail in Revolution Blues, which is alleged to be a song from the point of view of Charles Manson. I don't know if that is true or not, but there are some dark lyrics here; especially about the movie stars in Lauren Canyon. The title track finds Young ruminating about fame and how much he needs people or wants them around. The album closes reflecting on the past and whether it offers any solace. The lyrics are dark and questioning but that wouldn't matter one jot if it wasn't such a awesome record musically. As I've noted it's light on production and pretty rough sounding, but it's so perfectly written. The songs are what they need to be, even when they stretch out to six or eight minutes - not one note outstays its welcome.


Millie Jackson - Caught Up

This is some powerful southern soul. It was recorded in Muscle Shoals and follows the Isaac Hayes model - hard-bitten soul with opulent sophisticated orchestration. It borrows another approach perfected by Hayes in having long spoken word stretches. It also functions as the perfect example of well-worn soul trope - the story of illicit love - and Caught Up tells the story of a woman in love with a married man. It amounts to a soul concept album,  telling the story over 10 tracks - with ongoing narration from Jackson.

All of this would be cute if it wasn't for two things; the music and Jackson's delivery. The music is tight and funky and grooves relentlessly. Every song is a knock-out. The arrangements solid and dynamic, propelling me forward through the narrative, tapping my toes and fingers. Jackson gives everything to these songs, while she'd had a few hits, she was determined that this album would be the smash she felt she deserved. She was right and it was. The spoken word interludes don't interfere with the tunes but tie them together as they should, and Jackson sounds utterly authentic throughout, using humour where appropriate. For a southern soul record, this is essential.


Richard & Linda Thompson - I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight

I'd already become familiar with Richard Thompson via his work with Fairport Convention. So I already knew that spotting that a song was written by him was something to pay attention to. Fairport were perhaps best known for their arrangements of traditional folk material, but both Thompson and Sandy Denny were incredible songwriters. When these three classic albums of Richard and Linda Thompson were reissued in 2004, I was all over them. This, along with Pour Down Like Silver (1975), quickly embedded themselves as dear favourites in my collection.

It would be fair to say that Richard Thompson does not specialise in songs that focus on joy. In truth, one common feature of his songwriting is a sort of latent despair. It was there back in '68 with his legendary Meet on the Ledge. And here there are several songs that are close to, if not downright, heartbreaking. Perhaps the apotheosis of this is The End of the Rainbow - a song sung to an infant spelling out all of life's disappointments.

"Your mother works so hard to make you happy,
But take a look outside the nursery door
There's nothing at the end of the rainbow
There's nothing to grow up for anymore"

Of course, you might prefer Withered and Died or even the title track, which might seem lighthearted if it wasn't for the shadow of everyday life that lingers in the background.

I don't want to sell this album as a massive mope-fest, though, as it is breath-takingly beautiful. Thompson is commonly regarded as one of Britain's best ever guitar players. You'll see no pyrotechnics here, just a quiet defined style - slightly stark, but every note is correct. Consider The Calvary Cross, it's so gorgeous - it's so economical.


Brian Eno - Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy)

The world of music has had its fair share of visionaries; people who seem to see beyond the confines of the present and bring back from the future artefacts of a world yet unseen. Off the top of my head, I'd include the Velvets, the Beatles (including George Martin), Prince, Lee Scratch Perry, Bowie, Kanye West, Adrian Sherwood... Anyway, of all of them, no-one seems as consistently of the future as Eno. From those early Roxy Music albums, through these 70s recordings, his ambient work, his collaborations with David Byrne, John Cale, Harmonium, and then his production work, most notably with U2 - throughout them all, he has brought perpetual invention. All of the above have continued to offer inspiration to generations that have followed in his wake.

1974 was an incredible year for Eno. He'd just been kicked out of Roxy Music and then he produces two amazing albums. A case could be made for my selecting his debut, Here Come The Warm Jets, as it sets up the template for the series of experiments that Eno would embark on for the next few years. However, while I highly recommend it, I find it a little more abrasive, and thus a little less enjoyable.

Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) is difficult to describe. Eno referred to himself as a non-musician, and in one sense that is true. He operates in textures and feelings rather than chord structures and key changes. But in another sense it is false, because of course all of those things are there. Perhaps because he is a non-musician, they are unexpected and refreshing. Nothing is cliched; nothing is predictable; and yet everything sounds right - to me anyway. Check out Third Uncle, perhaps the most familiar thanks to the Bauhaus cover version. It sounds like a collection of Bo Diddeleys competing with each other, who can dismantle the rhythm first... But the more it seems like it might fall apart, the more Eno piles on. More drums! A new guitar riff! Another bassline! It's demented, it's careering, and yet, it never shows signs of leaving the road. I'll swear that Wire had this album on repeat when they were recording 154, especially listening to The True Wheel. My favourite track is The Fat Lady of Limbourg. It's slow. It's the most sedate song of the album - pondering perhaps - but it's absurdist lyrics, it's construction of atmosphere is second to none.

I'd seriously recommend to anyone thinking about sounds, that they sit and deconstruct any track from this album. There's more invention in one bar here than there are in many whole albums.


Steely Dan - Pretzel Logic

I am the only person I know that loves Steely Dan and I find this very strange. They have a gargantuan reputation and a modest discography, so they don't seem so overwhelming to investigate. But no-one likes them bar me. Or so it seems. I do have half a suspicion that once I have written this, two or three people will pop up and say me too...

Anyway, I bought this on a whim in about 2002. I had heard nothing of them since my childhood and even then nothing had lodged itself in my memory. I can't remember why, I was just curious. My Mum's second husband had Pretzel Logic on vinyl in the late 70s and I liked the cover. And I had read that they were cool. And why not buy it.... If nothing else, I'll learn something!

So how to describe it? On the face of things, it's pretty unremarkable. It's soft rock with jazzy undertones, I guess. Everyone says that they are terribly sophisticated and I suppose they are. I don't understand musical theory sufficiently to try to explain it, but the songs are thoughtful and rarely obvious, even if they could hardly be described as surprising. I guess - can you tell I'm struggling a little? - it's just really satisfying to listen to. There are lots of interesting things afoot, despite being such that if you weren't paying attention, it could pass you by very easily. I'm a big fan of this. If being sophisticated means that you make lots of interesting choices without feeling the need to shout about them, then this is that kind of record.

But while I am told that lyrically it is cold, I find it warm to listen to. The melodies are immediate and immediately lured me in. When I bought it, it was almost instantly on the rotation and it has never left it. It has hooks galore and to me is a sing-along record (as long as I am on my own in the car or something). I now have all bar one of Steely Dan's records - I love them very much. Some are a little jazzier, some a little rockier, but not one has failed me. I love them - why don't you?


Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson - Winter in America

I remember buying this album. It was from HMV in about '92 and knew next to nothing about it. It was a pretty big gamble - not least because it was £15. I was pretty broke back then so that was a good bit of change. I had no idea what I was buying. I didn't know Gil Scott-Heron, not really. The one thing I knew was his song 'The Bottle'. I'd come across that track a few times and naturally, I loved it. It was upbeat and cool, jazzy and knowing, and it was socially conscious. It had this fantastic beat, that seemed informed as much by Latin music as by jazz - not that I knew very much about either of these things. Quite rightly, it remains one of his most well known songs. But the other eight songs, who knows....

Remember - this was before the internet, so I couldn't sample a track to check it out. If you didn't know someone who had it, and I didn't, there wasn't too much you can do (especially not in HMV). (I later befriended the folk who worked in the separate classical department and they would, from time to time, play me things if they weren't too busy). Anyway, I took the plunge and it remains one of the very best decisions I ever made.

Gil Scott-Heron is one of the artists of the margins - difficult to fix down; sort of jazz, sort of not, sort of funk, sort of not, and so on. Since he was initially a poet, there was always a strong use of language and purpose in the lyrics. Musically he is joined with Brian Jackson on keyboards and together this forms one of the coolest, most relaxing albums I own. Even when they up the tempo, it's still time to kick back.

The music is calm and ruminative. Scott-Heron is at his most reflective here. The first two songs, Peace Go With You Brother and Rivers of my Fathers, consider community and tradition and togetherness and untogetherness. I am in no way an expert in the Black American experience, especially not of the early mid-70s, but I am under the impression that this was a time of uncertainty. This feeling seems to come out in these songs. Elsewhere, he looks back to his childhood and sings about parenthood. In many ways, The Bottle is the most typical song here - it feels like it is only sort of autobiographical. Aside from a brief reprise of the opener, the album closes with a long spoken word piece, H20 Gate Blues. Musically, it stands out but it also stands out lyrically, it's the only track that feel strident - as though he is sure about his position.

In all, this album opened my eyes, changed my word. It was one of the first real views on jazz that I had (despite being more jazzy than jazz) and introduced me to Gil Scott-Heron, of course. I think it was also one of the first pieces from the early 70s that I loved with all my heart. I'll be playing this record until I die and if there's an afterlife, it had better be playing there too!

Just missed out...

So close! Shuggie Otis's Inspiration Information. This was jostling for includion right up until the last minute. The Bee Gee's Mr. Natural was creeping close behind, as was Dadawah's Rastafarian meditation Peace and Love. Nina Simone's live It is Finished was a close runner as was Ann Peeble's I Can't Stand the Rain.

Some of these might show up next week in 1974 - The Others....

If you really want to see everything I listened to for this, click here. But why would you want to?