OK, you've heard of this one...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

"Prog" was a term used by music critics (and those who fancied themselves amongst the cognoscenti of obscure musical styles), but got polluted/infected/perverted by too much use on too many acts that either didn't want the label or didn't really qualify for it.  Or, an artist WAS "prog" for a while, decided million-selling records paid the bills better, then switched.

Today's destination for the Wayback Machine was one of the latter.  Genesis was one of the original "prog" bands--most of us were not really into their music as much as we were into their live shows, which used lights (lasers!) and staging to create a mood.  Of course, the experience was enhanced by the liberal application of certain substances (not that I would know--I was high on life at the time).

But when original frontman Peter Gabriel went out on his own (and issued not one, but two albums with the exact same name), Genesis moved from a "prog" band to a "prog-pop" band and eventually to a full-on "pop-rock" band.  Most of that can be attributed to the influence of Phil Collins, who also managed to sell a bajillion records as a solo act.

But way back in 1980, Genesis was still considered a fringe act with a "prog" bent.  Their next record, Duke, changed all that.  It was more accessible than anything Gabriel did, and moved them more into the center of the Bell Curve.  Back when records were King, and cassettes were Prince (no, not THAT Prince), there were two sides.  Side 1, Track 1 was the most important place to make a statement.  Side 2, Track 1 was usually something commercial but not too much so.

Side 2, Track 1 on Duke was "Turn It On Again", an upbeat rocker done in an impossible 13/4 time signature, which changed to 3/4 later in the song.  Collins, a drummer by trade, played the two timelines and switched effortlessly between them, making what could have been an aural mess into something with continuity that people could follow.  It's a testament to his talent that we can even stay with the beat.

So, it's "prog".  It's "pop-rock".  And, it's really good.  You haven't heard this in a while.  I'd expect to hear it in 2019 as part of the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy, Part 3.  At least, we should...

Tomorrow, electronic music, '70s style...


Pete

No, you don't know this one, either

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I remain back in the late '70s/early '80s "prog rock" era.  When bands were able to experiment with structure and theme away from the pressures of commercial radio.  But as I said yesterday, "prog" was a catch-all term that seemed to apply to everyone from Toto to Hawkwind, with a thousand variants in between.

Today's example is a band with a long and storied history of being under the radar.  Camel was a British band that started as a "jam band" with strange themes and even stranger musical structures.  Its personnel changed through the years, and included such luminaries as Peter Frampton (before he became "Alive" and sold 80 gabillion records), David Paton (who gained fame with The Alan Parsons Project), and Mel Collins, saxophonist par excellence, who did solos on APP records amongst others.

The throughline of Camel has been and is Andrew Latimer.  He's the "brains" of the outfit and continues to perform today.  Camel has a relatively passionate fanbase and they still turn out to hear the band.  I'm not a devotee, but I do have a strong love affair with their 1981 album Nude.

Nude is a "concept album"--a lost artform that tied several songs to a common theme  Think Tommy, anything by Alan Parsons, Sgt. Pepper, you get the drift.  Nude tells the story of a Japanese soldier found years after WWII who still thought he was at war, and the adjustment he had to make after being repatriated.

The opening track is "City Life", an overview of life as he knew it before he left for war.  It's a catchy tune, with a complete change in meter and instrumentation in the bridge followed by a killer sax solo and an outro that ties the previous parts together.  It sets the tone for the rest of the record, a feast for the ears.

Should you wish to dive deeper, go to YouTube and find "Drafted", the second song on Nude.  It also has a jarring change of tone after a relatively mild beginning (which recalls "City Life").

More later.  I'm enjoying this trip into the past so much I just might stay here...


Pete

No, you don't know it...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In my formative years (the late '70s), I got attached to what became known as "prog rock", a slang term for "progressive" that didn't do a very good job of narrowing down a wide variety of artists and styles.  Being a maven of Pop music rather than those "Critic's Darlings" whose music was inaccessible and arcane, I gravitated to more mainstream stuff.

But that didn't stop me from being out of the center of the Bell Curve.  I'm gonna explore those days in some detail and share stuff I'm just about 100% sure you never have heard.  We'll start with one of the best albums of the late '70s, Round the Back by Cafe Jacques.

I heard some of it while loitering in Schoolkids Records, the discount record place in Bloomington.  Like all record stores of the time, the staff played all manner of obscure stuff and I was a vinyl junkie who would buy a record based on one song I liked.  With Round the Back, however, I liked everything I heard.  It was the easiest $3.99 I ever spent.

I still have the record.  It was released on CD but not in the US--it was a Japanese high-quality disc that cost a fortune and I never bought it.  YouTube, and my ongoing decline in high-frequency sensitivity has re-introduced me to the music from this Scottish group.

Today's first in the "You Don't know it" series is "Meaningless", a song that presents "prog rock" in its more commercial flavor.  It's listenable, even though there are meter and key changes that weren't present in most of the music of the day.  And almost 40 years later it holds its allure, providing a satisfying experience no matter how many times I've heard it.

Enjoy it.  It's an exposure you won't get anywhere else.  Practically nobody else has even heard of Cafe Jacques.  But now you have...

More tomorrow.  Another song you've never heard, but will be happy when you do...


Pete

You Don't Need A Weatherman to Know Which Way the Wind Blows...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In recognition of the impending Apocalypse (not the North Korean one, the meteorological one), I thought I whip up a couple of timely tunes.  We're not sure yet when, or if, Irma will visit us, but all the digital models seem to be pointing that way.  So, here we go, with little or no commentary:

Love that bass line.

It's not exactly "red", but the radar image certainly shows it:

And, from Billy Joel.  Truer words were never spoken...

Finally, a word from Rock's Poet Laureate:

The hatches will be battened down.  We'll move inland if the news is bad.  More later in the week.


Pete

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

BULLETIN:  Walter Becker dies.

I'm pausing the "Earworm" series for a day to celebrate the life of Walter Becker.  He died yesterday, and it's yet another reminder of what happens to us as we age--our heroes begin to pass on.  The Good News for us is that our heroes leave a tangible legacy that we can enjoy for the rest of our time on the Mortal Coil.

Walter Becker was half of Steely Dan.  I often say that the older I get, the better Steely Dan sounds.  They brought jazz to rock music, and created not only a basketful of AM rock staples, but a rich collection of deep album tracks that further burnished their legacy.

You can like or not like "Reelin' in the Years", or "Do it Again", but one listen to "Don't Take Me Alive" or "Haitian Divorce" and you'll know you're in the presence of greatness.  Their reputation as obsessive studio rats, bringing in session players to play one bar, is well documented.  They even quit playing live for a time, although they relented on that later in their career to the joy of everyone who saw them.

Becker and his partner-in-crime Donald Fagen explored the seamy underside of human interaction.  The lyrical content was unfailingly depressing, focusing on losers, dreamers, and things going from bad to worse.  Nobody was spared--women, men, drug dealers, philanderers.  And Becker was at the front of it.

After an incredible (if somewhat low-output) series of records, they parted.  Some of it was that they had tired of the studio system.  Part was Becker's challenges with substances.  they eventually reunited and produced more music, even winning a Grammy for Record of the Year.

Before that, however, Fagen and Becker went their separate ways for a time (over a decade).  Fagen was producing music every so often, but Becker was invisible (no doubt a nod to his battles with chemicals).  But Becker did produce one album that showed his dark side in full view.

Eleven Tracks of Whack wasn't a great Steely Dan album, just as most of Fagen's solo work wasn't either.   You could almost hear them reaching out to each other seeking that synergy that propelled Steely Dan to iconic status.  But one track in particular played in my head yesterday as I heard the news (sorry, Steely Dan song title pun.  I won't do it again.  Oops).   Take a listen as Walter visits with his former (current?) dealer and recounts his time "Down in the Bottom".  RIP, Walter.  You done good...

See you tomorrow, after my mourning period has eased...


Pete

"Earworms", Part 1

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I want to spend a couple posts ruminating about "earworms".  You know, those songs that are either so catchy you can't forget them, or so irritating they won't leave your brain no matter how much bleach you use.

WARNING!  CLICKING THE LINK BELOW WILL INSERT AN EARWORM THAT MAY REQUIRE MEDICAL ATTENTION!

There are songs I could honestly hear every day and not have a single complaint.  "With a Little Help From My Friends", "Surfing With the Alien", or Benny Mardones singing "Into the Night".  But for every one of those, there are the "others"--stuff like "You Light Up My Life", "Wind Beneath My Wings", "Afternoon Delight" that are literally fingernails on a chalkboard, musically speaking.

Today's Earworm is a song I detest from a band I love.  Back in 1980-81, ELO owned the world.  Fresh off their double-disc classic Out of the Blue, and a follow up in Discovery, Jeff Lynne could do no wrong.  Well, almost.  Somehow he decided that providing songs for a movie starring Olivia Newton-John was a good idea.

Don't get me wrong--the songs he wrote for the movie were fine, except for the title track.  Sung by Newton-John, "Xanadu" has been wedged into my cerebral cortex for weeks.  I wake up to it,  I go to sleep with it, and sometimes it just appears in the middle of something else.  Gag.

What's even sorrier is that this was Gene Kelly's last movie.  He's at the very beginning of the video, under the "Xanadu" sign.  They put him on roller skates.  Kelly, he of Singin' in the Rain, and An American in Paris.  Xanadu probably hastened his death by years.  Ugh...

DON'T SAY YOU WEREN'T WARNED.  WATCH AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Sorry--gotta run.  Running late for my lobotomy.  Can't figure any other way to remove this abomination from my brain...

See you tomorrow (yes, I'm working Labor Day weekend--makes up for the missed time and blog posts)...


Pete