We’re heading far back in this post, looking at some of the formative albums that shaped the appreciation of music in my life. Lest you think there’s only gratuitous listening here, that’s not the case. So many of my memories are synced with music - what was I listening to when an event happened, where was I in my life journey, etc. So these albums - some of them not listened to in nearly a half century - are among the ones that made me who I am today. And maintaining my connection with them is a necessary part in maintaining my connection with myself. Obviously I can’t write about every album that I liked as a kid, or adult for that matter, but I can write about the ones that were (and here we go with the puns again) instrumental in my life. Starting with…
The Beatles - Revolver (1966)
I was three years old (less 4 days) when this album came out. I can’t say that I was aware of that. It was not the first album I ever bought - that honor goes to The Beatles Second Album which I bought several years later but had come out a couple of years before. My Grandfather gave me a couple of bucks one day, and I immediately made him take me down to the corner of MacDougal and 8th Street to buy this record. To be fair, I tried to listen to this one for this post, but I was immediately bored, and decided to move on to write about Revolver - which I remember having in the house - probably because my Mom or Dad liked it. I remember being fascinated by the intricate cover art - surely a first in its time - and the songs within.
Revolver is the album that, in this writer’s opinion, turned the Beatles from a pop band that had pilfered the works of the great American rhythm and blues artists, into a dynamic psychedelic force. This is the record that had both George Harrision’s acid drenched sitar laced Love You To and Ringo Starr’s vocals on the childish Yellow Submarine. It had John Lennon’s dark She Said She Said and Paul McCartney’s horn driven Got To Get You Into My Life. And it ended with one of the great songs of all time Tomorrow Never Knows. This is a record by a band on the cusp of real greatness - and despite the fact that I rarely listen to the Beatles any more, I don’t contest that greatness for a second. Rock and Roll would not be what it is today without this record, and I wouldn’t be who I am today without it either. Listening today showed the real limits of the 3 minute song - as a point of fact, the bulk of the songs on this album are well under three minutes - perfect for a little 7” 45 RPM and for short attention span radio. I would love to hear what might have happened had the band been able to stretch out a bit. They were clearly chomping on the bit on this one, as their next major release Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band would prove.
The Rolling Stones - Beggars Banquet (1968)
It is this writer's opinion that the Rolling Stones have made 4 great albums. That’s it. Starting with 1968’s Beggars Banquet and ending with 1972’s Exile On Main Street they were untouchable. These four albums all hold a special place in my psyche as well as they were instrumental in broadening my musical horizons. Other than these albums though, I don’t remain much of a Stones fan.
There are moments I wish I had been more aware of. Granted I was only five or six years old the first time I heard this album - so not aware of the absolute wonder that is Sympathy For The Devil at first listen. This track is one of the few that was so game changing that I’m sure it left jaws agape. How can one explain the tribal drums, vocal chants, super dark lyrics and heady rhythms. This is a song that changed rock and roll. And like many of the bleak lyrics on this album, the words confused the heck out of six year old me. I didn’t grow up in a religious household, so I had no real understanding of what it was about. But I sang along because the song was so captivating. Today, with the lights flickering and the incessant driving rhythm of the song in my ears, it is no less astounding. A classic and timeless piece of music that has weathered the decades just fine.
The rest of the album, although really good, does not pass the tests of time as well - especially knowing now the blatant plagiarism in at least one of the tracks. Take a listen to the original version of Prodigal Son which originally was credited to Jagger/Richards (it’s subsequently been properly designated to Reverend Robert Wilkins, who performed it in 1928 as a secular tune called That’s No Way To Get Along). This, though, is an album in which the very British Rolling Stones are beginning their explorations of the country blues music of the deep south in the USA which is a path they would continue to traverse for many years to come. Lyrically, the album ranges from the deeply political Factory Girls and Salt Of The Earth to the almost child-like Dear Doctor which I thought was super fun as a child to the mournful No Expectations. It also showcases the early stages of Jagger’s snarling voice on Stray Cat Blues - an indication of what was to come for the Stones.I also remember the bacchanalia of the interior art fold out. I would stare in awe at that picture while listening to the album on my little phonograph set.
It’s been fun to reminisce through this record, which meant so much to me. It’s one that I’ve kept handy all these years - a great driving record to sing along to as, even today as my brain fails me, I can still recall every note and word. It’s wormed its way deep into my brain.
Van Der Graaf Generator - Pawn Hearts (1971)
Back in the early 1970’s, progressive rock truly earned that moniker. It was rock based music trying to stretch the boundaries of style (and often time, with side long epics). Music defined by the genre Prog these days is certainly no longer that. It’s a tired rehash of the themes already explored by the groundbreaking bands of that time. Some of it is really good, but it’s not progressive. By the middle part of that decade, I had “graduated” from the blues based rock of the Beatles and Stones, gone through my fling with Led Zeppelin, and had begun exploring this so-called progressive music. I was listening to popular prog bands like Yes and Genesis. I had discovered pot, and that was coloring my entire existence. I was on the verge of dropping out of school. The music of the progressive movement, while intellectually stimulating, was not really reaching my core. I was an angry depressed kid, and Yes and Genesis were generally singing of happy things, or about Tolkien - or happy planets. I liked the music, but didn’t connect with the words.
In February 1978, when I was 14, a kid from my high school invited me to go with him to see a guy I’d never heard of named Peter Hammill. It was a solo show, I was told - just this Hammill guy and his piano and guitar. Unimpressed by the concept, I went along. I left that show, which we had to sneak into as it was in a bar, a lifelong fan. The very next day, I went out and bought all the records I could find by Hammill and his band, the oddly named Van Der Graaf Generator. VdGG had been (unfairly, I think) lumped into the “progressive” rock movement. I say unfairly because despite also having side long epics and conceptual lyrics, they bore little in common with the often whimsical themes of Yes and Genesis. Hammill explored love and death. He sang of angst and fear. He sang with a power that has, to this day, has rarely been equaled. Yes and Genesis incorporated classical music into their rock and roll. VdGG had an instrumentation that included Drums, Organ, Saxophone (via Rahsaan Roland Kirk, not via Jr. Walker), Drums and Vocals. Occasional piano and guitar made their way into the mix as well.
Pawn Hearts, VdGG’s 4th album is a masterpiece from start to finish. It’s got 3 tracks, the final track being the side long A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers, which is about the mental agony of a man who sees the death of sailors on a daily basis. It leaves you wondering at the end (after an amazingly beautiful final part called Land’s End) if he’s killed himself or has reconciled to this fate. The other two tracks are called Lemmings, which is really about the horrors of being a soldier in war, with the chilling refrain “What cause is there left, but to die…”, but ends with the somewhat more hopeful “What choice is there but to live? To save the little ones? What choice is there left but to try?”. This is followed up by Man-Erg which opens with peaceful piano and the words “The killer lives inside me: I can feel him move. Sometimes he's lightly sleeping in the quiet of his room, But then his eyes will rise and stare through mine, He'll speak my words and slice my mind inside.” Inside the 11 minutes of this song, it grows into a maelstrom of sound with the howled lyrics “How can I be free? How can I get help? Am I really me? Am I someone else?” showcasing the full range of Hammill’s prodigious vocal talents.
This is an album that has stood the test of time for me. Listening today evoked memories, and also had me amazed at the tenacity of the music. Careening between angsty rock and roll (Hammill has been credited by Johnny Rotten (Sex Pistols) as the true creator of Punk Rock) and free jazz, often within seconds. Hammill’s voice can be as soothing or grating as he desired. Also often within seconds. His vocals have been favorably compared to the guitar explorations of Jimi Hendrix (by Robert Fripp of King Crimson - no guitar slouch himself - who coincidentally performs on Plague). This is truly what progressive music is, but it is not in any way Prog Rock.
For what it’s worth, Hammill also wrote and sang what I consider to be among the great love songs of all time called Vision. Of course, being a Hammill song, it’s a song of loss and remembrance. I’ve always thought that if Wendy predeceased me, this is the song I’d play while thinking about her. Maybe the situation will end up being reversed.
While all this was happening for me personally, I was also exposed to Bob Dylan (It’s nearly impossible to write the chilling effect of Rainy Day Woman, on an impressionable 4 year old who is already listening deeply to music - with its discordant harmonicas and terrifying lyrics), John Coltrane, Billie Holiday, Odetta, Pete Seeger, PDQ Bach, and Nina Simone, and perhaps most importantly, Louie Louie by the Kingsmen (which I got in London when I was 4) thanks to the adventurous tastes of my parents. My house was one filled with sounds. My little ears were constantly taking in new music. Is it any wonder that this is how I’ve ended up. I know music will end up keeping me afloat - both listening to it and writing about it, and I’m happy to share my passion with you.
I’m writing this final part from the infusion center, where I’ve just had #9. Today I actually feel like I was aware of the drug entering my bloodstream, and it wasn’t a good feeling. It’s over now, and besides a slight feeling of dizziness - which I’ve had before, and I know will dissipate after a nap - I’m fine. So perhaps it was just an anomaly. Tomorrow we head down to visit Wendy’s parents for the holidays, so there will probably be no further posting from me until the New Year. With that,
Merry…
Happy…
Thanks!
Dy
Yup, I cried. Vision holds a place of honor and devotion.
I love you.
Thx for exposing me to so much of this music while we were in Jordan. I would never have experienced VDGG otherwise!