Difficult Music

I went to a dinner party last weekend at Robert Strandquist’s place. All the invitees, including Fancy lady, had helped him with his new novel, The Dreamlife of Bridges (Anvil Press, $18). During a stupendous meal, one of the guests began reminiscing about the Commodore, listing all the shows he’d seen there. “…and I saw Renaissance.” What, with Annie Haslam? That Renaissance? Yes, and apparently they were big on CKLG FM back in the day. I missed out on everything.

Then he mentioned seeing Jethro Tull on the Passion Play tour at the Agrodome for seven bucks. Oh man, cut it out. You’re killing me here.

I filled some gaps in the collection and caught up with some old classics in 2003. Here’s a partial rundown.
Neil Young On the Beach
What took you so long?
I always got it mixed up with Landing on Water, and what I’d heard from LoW didn’t sound so great. I found this cheap reissue on the Reprise “Digital Masterpiece Series” while Christmas shopping.
Was it worth the wait?
Definitely. It’s Neil down in the dumps in 1974, dressing down Lynyrd Skynyrd (or perhaps Crosby, Stills and Nash) one more time (“Walk On”) then embarking on a series of more stripped-down numbers, some of which are quite beautiful. “See the Sky About to Rain” and the title track are two of my favourites right now.

John Lennon Plastic Ono Band
What took you so long?
General distrust of Beatles solo albums, and of John Lennon himself. Face it, he was a bit of a monster. My friend Christian Scum recommended this album after checking it out from the library. Then I read in Bill Martin’s Avant Rock that John and Yoko each released an album called Plastic Ono Band in 1970, and I thought that was pretty cool.
Was it worth the wait?
For sure. Like On the Beach, this is a bare bones singer-songwriter kinda album. I knew of songs like “Mother” and “Working Class Hero” by reputation only. I’d never actually heard them. They’re both tortured and brilliant. “Mother,” especially, is not all that easy to listen to. I can imagine Cobain cocking an ear to Lennon’s primal scream therapy and taking notes. Ringo’s on drums for this, so you get two Beatles for the price of one. Now that I’ve popped my solo Beatles cherry, I’ll probably own the entire Wings catalogue before 2004 is done.

Angel self-titled
What took you so long?
Martin Popoff gave this a 10 in his first book, and I’m always up for some early American metal. It took a few years, but I finally found this in the Sally Ann basement for 50 cents.
Was it worth the wait?
Oh yeah. Despite being revolted after getting some of Popoff’s picks (such as a Ronnie Montrose Gamma album that I had to toss after a single listen), this album fully delivers. It’s spectacularly pompous U.S. arena rock, delusionally grand just like early Styx and Kansas, with the odd Zep or Budgie moment thrown in. This also has enough synth leads, mellotrons, acoustic guitars and flutes to induce the required DiffMusic prog coma. There’s party rock in the shape of “Rock & Rollers”—hear this and you’re instantly in some roller rink making the scene with your feathered hair and piping-trimmed shorts. The vocals sound disturbingly like Rik Emmet at times, although they carry much more emotion than that Muppet ever could. This rocks so hard, it’s a mystery that Angel didn’t hit it as big as labelmates Kiss. This album decimates, say, Dressed to Kill. Along with Riot’s Fire Down Under, it’s one of the great unsung American hard rock albums.

The Moody Blues Days of Future Passed
What took you so long?
I always had more challenging assignments than this easy-listening example of proto-prog. Besides, I’d heard all the best parts dozens of times on the radio.
Was it worth the wait?
Sure, why not? It’s a charming period piece, with the Wonderful World of Disney orchestral bits linking the pop songs and “poetry.” I’ve got a huge tolerance for all things twee. The only song that lapses into total pre-Smell the Glove Spinal Tapness is “Another Morning”: “Balloons flying, children sighing, what a day to go kite-flying/Breeze is cool, away from school, cowboys fighting out a duel.” That’s okay, because the brilliant flash of uptempo psychedelia that is “Peak Hour” follows it. I’d never heard this song before, and it rules, as do “Forever Afternoon (Tuesday?)” and fancy’s karaoke favourite “Nights in White Satin.” This album helped point the way to most of the music I care about.

Museo Rosenbach Zarathustra
What took you so long?
Reputed to be one of the finest of all Italian prog albums (“dark” prog at that), I had to finally give in and mail order a CD copy of this 1973 release.
Was it worth the wait?
Yes indeed. It took me a while to get into, but after listening to it about four times through at work today, I’ve decided this is a classic. And forget the prog label; Zarathustra is simply crazy, ambitious rock music. The first “side” is a 20-minute, five-part epic, with three more songs on the flip. Like most Italian bands, they have a strident, declamatory vocalist. The lyrics are all in Italian, so I have no idea what’s going on. I do understand rocking, which is what the rest of the group does. They’re not virtuosos, and the music is mostly keyboard-led with well-composed parts that don’t leave room for solos. I hear an amalgam of symph-rock icons in their music—Genesis, ELP, Tull, with a nod to Van der Graaf at their heaviest. I’m probably nuts, but I hear a bit of Air during “Della Natura,” too. Maybe it’s just the mass Mellotron both bands use. Anyway, add this to the top 20 of 1973, the year before rock attained perfection.