I once was lost, but now I’m found
There’s nothing better than hearing a song you used to love but have somehow forgotten all about over the years. Perhaps it’s the one great song on a so-so album, so you don’t even remember it’s there. Or maybe it’s on a super album but the radio plays only the same 3-4 songs, neglecting some choice tunes in the mix.
Or maybe you never heard it before, even though it’s on a popular album. Some music-loving friend turns you on to a deep track, and blows your mind. “Wow! Where has THAT song been all my life?”
That’s the purpose of my series of “lost classics” blogs (this is the sixth installment) in which I turn the spotlight on these hidden gems. They live among us, dear readers. Treat yourself to these dozen songs I’ve selected from the 1969-1983 period that will perhaps spark great memories, or thrill you for the first time.
Enjoy!
***********
“Queen of My Soul,” Average White Band, 1976
This R&B band from Scotland made quite a splash in the US in the mid-to-late ’70s with singles like the #1 instrumental “Pick Up the Pieces” and its follow-up, “Cut the Cake,” and three Top Ten albums. On their third LP, “Soul Searching,” there’s an infectious dance track by guitarist/bassist/vocalist/songwriter Hamish Stuart called “Queen of My Soul” that is guaranteed to get you up out of your chair. Its main message, repeated often in the chorus and coda, is that music can play a hugely important role in our lives: “Music, sweet music, you’re the queen of my soul…”
“Mirage,” Santana, 1974
After a spectacular debut LP, followed by two consecutive #1 albums, Santana foundered a bit in 1973 as their lead guitarist wanted to stretch boundaries and try new things. Several personnel shifts occurred, and the music, while fascinating at times, didn’t offer what the band’s early fans were looking for, so the albums didn’t chart as well. Still, there’s often a diamond in the rough hidden amongst average songs, and on “Borboletta,” it’s a gorgeous keyboard-dominated track called “Mirage,” written and sung by organist/pianist Leon Patillo. Carlos is on hand to offer his trademark biting guitar riffs.
“I Really Don’t Know Anymore,” Christopher Cross, 1980
This unlikely-looking singer-songwriter seemingly came out of nowhere in early 1980 with his eponymous debut LP and its four hit singles (“Sailing,” “Ride Like the Wind,” “Never Be the Same” and “The Light is On”). He won the “Big Four” Grammys that year, including Song of the Year (as composer) and Record of the Year (as performer) for “Sailing,” Album of the Year, and Best New Artist, the only time this has happened in Grammy history. Did he deserve it? That’s debatable, but the album is full of really great music, and the lost gem, to me, is “I Really Don’t Know Anymore,” a shimmering rock track that features Michael McDonald sharing vocals, and a scorching guitar solo by jazz/rock great Larry Carlton.
“Starship Trooper,” Yes, 1971
This accomplished progressive rock group from England had greater chart success with their “Fragile” album and its single “Roundabout,” and their #1 opus “Close to the Edge,” but I keep going back to the brilliant 1971 LP, “The Yes Album.” There you’ll find the minor hit “I’ve Seen All Good People” and the sonic smorgasbord of the leadoff song, “Yours is No Disgrace,” but most diehard Yes fans are partial to the 9-minute “Starship Trooper,” which is actually a suite of three separate pieces of music combined in a gorgeous, mesmerizing track. In particular, Jon Anderson’s crystalline vocals and Steve Howe’s intricate guitar work stand out.
“Tell Me All the Things You Do,” Fleetwood Mac, 1970
The band that blues guitarist Peter Green put together in 1967 would go through several giddy highs and discouraging lows before they hit superstardom in 1977. In 1970, Fleetwood Mac muscled their way through the sessions for “Kiln House,” their first LP without Green at the helm, who had abruptly left to join a commune. Guitarist Jeremy Spencer wasn’t much of a songwriter, and he too would soon be swayed by a persuasive cult. This left the bulk of the songwriting on the frail shoulders of young Danny Kirwan, a new recruit the year before. He came through with a couple of gems, including “Tell Me All the Things You Do,” where his tenor voice sounds a lot like Christine McVie, who became a full-fledged member later that year. Kirwan’s guitar work is masterful here.
“Criminal World,” David Bowie, 1983
It had been three years since Bowie’s last release, 1980’s “Scary Monsters,” so naturally, the public was about to meet a new Bowie persona. He wrote or identified eight captivating songs, hired Chic’s Nile Rodgers to produce, and unleashed then-unknown blues guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughan on most of the tracks, and the result, “Let’s Dance,” was #1 in ten countries. While “Modern Love,” “China Girl” and the anthemic title song rightly get most of the attention, I suggest you take a listen to “Criminal World,” which features Vaughan adding just the right guitar fills to spice things up. Great song!
“Albert Flasher,” The Guess Who, 1971
Randy Bachman had been the de facto leader/guitarist/songwriter of this polished Canadian band, but he departed after “American Woman” in 1970, later to lead Bachman-Turner Overdrive. That left singer/pianist/songwriter Burton Cummings to take over the reins, and he came up with some impossibly catchy Top 20 tunes to keep the Guess Who popular for several more years — “Share the Land,” “Hand Me Down World,” “Rain Dance” and my favorite, “Albert Flasher,” a piano-driven single that wasn’t available on an album until many years later. Cummings’ vocal delivery here is simply spectacular. I wish this one went on longer than its brief 2:18 length.
“Tell Me to My Face,” Dan Fogelberg & Tim Weisberg, 1978
For his fifth album, Fogelberg teamed up with jazz flautist Weisberg for the delightful “Twin Sons of Different Mothers,” which reached #8 on the charts on the strength of the single, “The Power of Gold.” Most of the LP showcases the delicate interweaving of flute and acoustic guitar, but “Power of Gold” is full-bodied and really cooks, and even more so is the incredible 7-minute rendition of “Tell Me to My Face,” written by Graham Nash and Allan Clarke in 1966 and recorded by The Hollies. Fogelberg’s version is leaps and bounds better than the original, if only because production values are so superior…but so is the musicianship. I crank this one up every chance I get.
“Be My Lover,” Alice Cooper, 1971
The shock rock of Alice and his band of hard rock misfits had struggled to find an audience at first, but producer Bob Ezrin polished up their sound and asked for songs with great hooks, and the band responded with “I’m Eighteen,” a teenage rallying cry to this day. On their “Killer” album in ’71, “Under My Wheels” kept momentum alive until 1972’s “School’s Out” and “Elected” and 1973’s “Billion Dollar Babies” LP made them one of the nation’s top concert draws. But go back to “Killer” — many compelling songs there, particularly “Be My Lover,” written by guitarist Michael Bruce. The dude knew his way around a knockout riff.
“Kozmic Blues,” Janis Joplin, 1969
In early 1969, Janis had left her erstwhile group, Big Brother and the Holding Company (despite their #1 album together, “Cheap Thrills”), and instead assembled a new band loosely known as The Kozmic Blues Band. This group, which included blues great Mike Bloomfield on a few tracks, recorded the impressive “I Got Dem Ol’ Kozmic Blues Again Mama!” just before appearing at Woodstock. The album’s release a month later capitalized on that event and reached #6 on the charts. Three singles were released but curiously went nowhere, despite their energy and musical quality. The title track shows Joplin in fine form, offering alternately dulcet and screeching vocals as a basic piano melody evolves into a full brass, full-throated tour de force, all in a compact 4:42.
“Night Flight,” Led Zeppelin, 1975
Eight new songs were recorded by the band for their “Physical Graffiti” album in 1974, but since their combined length pushed the limit of a conventional single album, they decided to resurrect some unreleased tracks recorded during previous sessions and make “Graffiti” a double album. Naturally, it went to #1, but only four or five of the 15 songs got much airplay — usually “Kashmir” and “Trampled Under Foot,” maybe “In My Time of Dying.” But the one I like is “Night Flight,” originally intended for the “IV/Untitled” album in 1971. Carried by John Paul Jones’ keyboards, and a typically powerful Robert Plant vocal, it packs a wallop, and recalls “Misty Mountain Hop” and “Four Sticks” from that classic album.
“Freedom Rider,” Traffic, 1970
Steve Winwood had already achieved so much before he was 21 — hits with Spencer Davis Group, forming trippy folk/rock band Traffic, then teaming up with Eric Clapton for the Blind Faith project. He then decided the time was right for a solo LP, and started writing the songs that would eventually make up the extraordinary “John Barleycorn Must Die” album. Because Winwood used Traffic’s drummer Jim Capaldi and flute/sax player Chris Wood in the recording sessions, he relented and agreed to call it a Traffic album, which kick-started another five years and three amazing albums for the band (and delayed Winwood’s solo career until the late ‘70s). On “Freedom Rider,” Wood’s sax and flute passages perfectly complement Winwood’s piano and organ, and that voice — well, there few peers in the business.
*************
I’d love to hear your suggestions for “Lost Tracks” I might feature in future blog entries!
But I gotta tell you, I’ve been very frustrated with the nominating and voting process the Hall of Fame uses to select and induct its honored members. And I’m certainly not alone.
This is a no-brainer. The godfathers of progressive rock have been around since their early inception as British mod rockers in early 1965 when they hit the Top Ten in the UK and the US with Denny Laine singing “Go Now.” That turned out to be an anomaly, though, because in 1967, with singer-songwriter Justin Hayward at the helm, they teamed up with the London Symphony Orchestra to break all kinds of barriers with their landmark “Days of Future Passed” LP. Using classical instruments, sweeping string passages and a structured song cycle, the Moodies practically invented the concept album, and then went on from there with a half-dozen albums in the 1968-1973 period that established the quality precedent for all prog rock bands that followed. Hayward was the de facto leader, coming up with melodic rock tunes like “Tuesday Afternoon,” “Nights in White Satin,” “Lovely to See You,” “Gypsy,” “Question,” “It’s Up to You,” “Story in Your Eyes” and “You and Me,” and bassist John Lodge contributed strong entries like “Ride My Seesaw” and “I’m Just a Singer in a Rock and Roll Band.”
In the midst of disco and New Wave, Dire Straits burst forth from England in 1978 with a wonderfully retro beat-music sound, highlighted by Mark Knopfler’s spare, lean guitar stylings. “Sultans of Swing” dominated radio in the UK and the US in early 1979, as did the debut LP, and they then went on to release six more Top 20 studio albums over the next dozen years, chock full of beautiful melodies (“Romeo and Juliet,” “Your Latest Trick,” “On Every Street”) and more commercial hits (“Tunnel of Love,” “Industrial Disease,” “Money for Nothing,” “Walk of Life”). In concert, they offered a shimmering, high-quality sound rarely heard in arena-sized venues, captured on two live LPs, “Alchemy” and “On the Night.” Since the band’s breakup in 1995, Knopfler, the band’s singer-songwriter, has gone on to release eight solo albums mostly as satisfying as the Dire Straits catalog (especially 2000’s “Sailing to Philadelphia” and 2007’s “Kill to Get Crimson”), including a delightful collaboration with Emmylou Harris (“All the Roadrunning”). He is a gifted songwriter and guitarist who certainly deserves a place in the Rock Hall, as a solo artist or with his former band.
He was only 19 when he debuted with the garage rock band Nazz, then went solo at 22, knocking the industry on its ear with his third effort, the astounding double LP “Something/Anything?” and its two hits, “Hello It’s Me” and “I Saw the Light.” But Rundgren was just getting started. The multi-instrumentalist and singer-songwriter has released nearly two dozen solo albums over the past 40 years, plus another nine LPs as a member of Utopia during the ’70s and ’80s. He has offered up a wildly eclectic palette of styles, from baroque pop with intricate vocal harmonies to dense hard rock and experimental projects. On top of that, he has been a pioneer in exploring new recording technologies, and has produced hugely successful albums for other major artists (Meat Loaf’s “Bat Out of Hell,” The Band’s “Stage Fright,” Hall and Oates’ “War Babies” and Grand Funk’s “We’re an American Band”). Todd is praised by all kinds of musical heroes, from Brian Wilson to Lenny Kravitz, and his omission from the Rock Hall is puzzling, to say the least.
Classic rock radio playlists would have a huge void if not for the work of this venerable band out of San Jose, California. The Doobies turned heads immediately upon the release of their amazing second LP, “Toulouse Street,” in 1972, with durable heartland rock tracks like “Listen to the Music,” “Rockin’ Down the Highway” and “Jesus is Just Alright.” Lead singer-songwriter Tom Johnston spearheaded their rise on the next three LPs before succumbing to ulcer problems, but the band regrouped with soulful singer-songwriter Michael McDonald, who launched their reimagining as a more R&B-flavored outfit with lush tracks like “What a Fool Believes,” “Takin’ It to the Streets,” “Minute by Minute” and “Real Love.” Through both phases of the group, second guitarist/singer Patrick Simmons contributed some of the band’s best songs, including “Toulouse Street,” “South City Midnight Lady,” “Black Water” and “Echoes of Love.” Against all odds, The Doobies are still a mainstay on the concert circuit today — without McDonald but with Johnston back in the groove — delighting audiences from coast to coast. Surely they belong in the Rock Hall.
There are plenty of people (my sister, for instance) who don’t care for this impressive British band of prog-rock practitioners, with its revolving-door membership and musical approach that swings like a pendulum from densely hard rock to gentle madrigals. But Ian Anderson, the group’s feisty singer/songwriter/flautist/leader throughout its 40+ years, is an indisputable musical genius whose work on Jethro Tull’s 20 albums (plus a half-dozen solo projects) has sold nearly 100 million units worldwide. Consider the mind-boggling “Thick as a Brick” — one 45-minute song covering both sides of an album — the most unusual LP ever to reach #1 on the US charts. Anderson and Tull are best known for classic rock tracks like “Aqualung,” “Locomotive Breath,” “Living in the Past” and their treatment of Bach’s “Bouree,” but the band’s catalog offers far more, an extraordinary range of sophisticated rock, jazz, folk and even R&B genres that simply can’t be denied. In my view, Jethro Tull clearly belongs in the Rock Hall.
Northeast Ohio’s biggest rock hero was only 22 when his sweetly powerful electric guitar, irresistible rock songs (“Funk #49,” “Walk Away,” “Take a Look Around”) and unique vocals took The James Gang up the charts in 1969-1971. He made his mark as a solo artist with 1973’s brilliant game-changing LP “The Smoker You Drink, the Player You Get” and his signature song, “Rocky Mountain Way,” which featured a talking box well before Peter Frampton turned it into a cliche. His professional stature and financial success were forever secured when he was invited to join The Eagles in 1976, with whom he contributed rock mainstays like “Life in the Fast Lane,” “In the City” and “Pretty Maids All in a Row.” Somehow he simultaneously maintained his solo career well into the 1980s, even after The Eagles’ stormy breakup, with solid albums and whimsical hit singles like “Life’s Been Good,” “A Life of Illusion” and “Ordinary Average Guy.” He earned a reputation as one of rock’s most outrageous bad boys, destroying hotel rooms and behaving badly well into the 1990s. He’s a sober elder statesman these days, an Eagle once again since their reunion. Although he’s already been inducted as a member of that hugely successful group, Walsh deserves to be included as a solo artist as well.
Three Dog Night
Hack's Back Pages 