Music, sweet music, you’re the queen of my soul

Since 2018, each year I have taken a look back at the albums of fifty years ago.

In 1968, albums were starting to gain more credibility as complete statements of an artist’s work. By 1971, arguably the high-water mark of diversity and excellence in album releases, albums had overtaken singles as the dominant music delivery format. And now this year, we’re taking a closer look at the albums of 1976. Nearly 500 albums of all sorts of genres were released during that bicentennial calendar year.

My view of the music from the twelve months of 1976 is colored, as it often is, by what I was doing, where I was, how old I was and who I hung out with. I was in the last half of my junior year and first half of my senior year at Syracuse University, and the friends I made there were fairly music-savvy, introducing me to artists I might not have otherwise discovered.

I also turned 21 that year, which made me eligible to go to bars and clubs, and in 1976, that included discos. This was the year disco began its four-year dominance of the Top 40 hit single chart, but the LPs these songs came from didn’t yet have the same impact on album charts (that would come in 1977-79). A handful of disco-leaning albums did well, but the biggest sellers on mainstream album charts were still largely rock, pop, country and jazz, and singer-songwriter and prog rock.

In choosing what I found to be the Best 15 Albums of 1976, I’ve ignored some releases that sold a gazillion copies but just weren’t my cup of tea (“Wings at the Speed of Sound” by Paul McCartney comes to mind). I also didn’t take to certain albums that were considered groundbreaking (the debut LP by New York punk band The Ramones, for example). But that’s the thing about subjective lists like this — they’re subjective, and purport only to show my opinion on the music of that year. If you’re miffed that I omitted one of your favorites, I invite you to publish your own list.

I’ve listed another dozen “honorable mentions” that were considered but ultimately didn’t make the cut. As is customary, I’ve included two Spotify playlists. The first offers four tracks from each of the 15 albums that made my list. The second list offers four tunes from each of the 12 honorable mentions.

Enjoy this trip back to the music of 50 years ago.

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“Silk Degrees,” Boz Scaggs

Although Scaggs first made his name as an original member of the Steve Miller Band in the late ’60s, followed by a modestly successful five-album solo career, I confess I didn’t know much about him until I was I introduced to him (like most of America) when he released his “Silk Degrees” LP in the spring of 1976. Here was the right album at the right time: Vibrant, catchy songs you could dance to, gorgeous production, the instrumental talents of keyboardist David Paich, drummer Jeff Porcaro and bassist David Hungate (who all went on to form Toto) and a butter-smooth, charismatic singer out front. Radio, the public and the press all ate it up. Two iconic hits — the blue-eyed soul of “Lowdown” and the driving rocker “Lido Shuffle” — led the way, but this album doesn’t have a dud in the lot. “It’s Over,” “What Can I Say,” “Georgia” were all club favorites, and the ballads “Harbor Lights” and “We’re All Alone” (later made more famous by Rita Coolidge) brought sensuality to the proceedings. Scaggs went on release more great Top 20 hits and LPs intermittently over the next couple of decades, but “Silk Degrees” was his signature LP.

“Takin’ It to the Streets,” The Doobie Brothers

When group founder Tom Johnston took ill with ulcers and exhaustion in 1975, The Doobies were in a quandary. Should they call it quits, or find a replacement? Johnston had been their chief songwriter and lead vocalist, and although guitarist/songwriter Pat Simmons was still on board to contribute great material (“8th Avenue Shuffle,” “Rio,” “Wheels of Fortune”), they needed more. Guitarist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter, who’d left Steely Dan to join The Doobies in 1975, suggested they give a tryout to singer/songwriter/keyboardist Michael McDonald, another member of the Steely Dan camp. Things worked out so well on a few concert dates that the band invited him to sessions for their next LP. The result was “Takin’ It to the Streets,” not only a return to form after the lackluster “Stampede” album the year before, but a reinvention of sorts, with McDonald providing several quality songs (“It Keeps You Runnin’,” “Losin’ End,” “Carry Me Away” and the title song) and that husky, smooth voice that would take the band to new heights in the ensuing years.

“The Royal Scam,” Steely Dan

It was on this album, Steely Dan’s fifth, that the group ceased to exist and became a duo (Donald Fagen and Walter Becker) accompanied by a host of hired session musicians, which became their way of working thereafter. It’s also the LP on which jazz leanings — chord changes, arrangements, instrumental solos — became more prominent, most notably on tracks like “Green Earring” and “Everything You Did.” Still, most of the tunes were based in the LA rock/pop idiom of their previous records, with more of the wonderfully cryptic lyrics about societal outcasts, weirdos and ne’er-do-wells. “Kid Charlemagne,” about a psychedelic drug chemist character in the Bay Area, features the phenomenal Larry Carlton on guitar and is the album’s best moment, but don’t miss “Don’t Take Me Alive,” “The Fez,” “Haitian Divorce” and the dark title tune. I kept waiting for Steely Dan to have an average album, but it never came, certainly not in this case.

“Hotel California,” The Eagles

There’s really not much to say about this monumental record that hasn’t already been said. Truth be told, I’ve always been fairly ambivalent about The Eagles; I enjoy about a dozen individual tracks but I tire of much of their overplayed catalog. “Hotel California” was the group’s commercial zenith, selling more than 40 million copies worldwide, and there are certainly some creative peaks to be found here. Most people would mention the iconic title song, with its lyrics about the pitfalls of fame and its wondrous lead guitar interplay between Don Felder and Joe Walsh. I happen to prefer the deeper tracks — Walsh’s dreamy song “Pretty Maids All in a Row,” Randy Meisner’s country rocker “Try and Love Again” and the masterful album closer, “The Last Resort.” By this point, Don Henley and Glenn Frey had become egotistical control freaks who caused internal friction and ultimately brought about the band’s breakup in 1980, but from its release in December 1976 and for the next couple of years, “Hotel California” was the album that spawned a thousand imitators.

“Boston,” Boston

The recording of this seismic album has been described as “one of the most complex corporate capers in the history of the music business.” It’s the brainchild of Tom Scholz, the multi-instrumentalist/engineer/songwriter who wrote and recorded demos of all the material in 1973 under the band name Mother’s Milk. He shopped it around to several labels for two years before Columbia subsidiary Epic Records signed him to a contract. They wanted him to record at their Los Angeles studio, but Scholz was convinced he could do a better job in his Boston-based basement studio setup. He sent his newly hired musicians (known as Boston by that point) to LA to record one track “in a decoy move of how we were really working.” Scholz basically duplicated the demos at home, recruited his friend Brad Delp to sing the layered vocals, and then sent the sonically perfect master tapes to Epic. The result, with “crystal-clear vocals and bone-crunching guitars,” became the most successful debut album ever. Virtually the entire album has been in heavy rotation ever since, especially “More Than a Feeling,” “Peace of Mind” and “Foreplay/Long Time.”

“Songs in the Key of Life,” Stevie Wonder

After a successful run in the ’60s as a teenage star in Motown’s celebrated stable of soul artists, Stevie Wonder won his independence when he turned 21 in 1971, and the music he wrote, played, sang and recorded over the next five years was simply unparalleled, winning multiple “Album of the Year” Grammys and populating the Top 40 charts as well (“Superstition,” “You Are the Sunshine off My Life,” “Living For the City,” “Higher Ground,” “You Haven’t Done Nothin'”). By 1976, he called his own shots, assembling a double album (with four extra tracks on a 45 contained within) that showed remarkable diversity — soul, funk, jazz, ballads, the works. “Songs in the Key of Life” became his finest achievement in a career full of accomplished works. “I Wish” and the marching band favorite “Sir Duke” both went right to the top of the charts, but there’s so much more here that’s worthy of everyone’s attention: “Isn’t She Lovely,” his tribute to his infant daughter; “As,” the galloping anthem to romantic love; “Summer Soft,” “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” “Ordinary Pain,” “If It’s Magic” — just an overflowing cornucopia of great music.

“Night Moves,” Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band

Even though it wasn’t until the release of this album in October 1976 that Bob Seger became a national rock star, he’d been making great rock and roll out of Detroit since the late ’60s. As The Bob Seger System, he had a minor hit in 1968 with “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man,” then settled into a journeyman role, touring relentlessly with regional Midwest success. A few of his original tunes found their way onto FM playlists (“Turn the Page,” “Beautiful Loser,” “Katmandu”) but his albums were largely ignored…until “Night Moves.” Seger and his backing group, The Silver Bullet Band, suddenly became a sensation, and rightly so. Critics gushed over the classic rock and roll riffs reminiscent of Chuck Berry, saying “the album was about rock and roll for those who were no longer in their teens.” Seger’s gruff vocals sounded like a more authentic Rod Stewart, and his working-class lyrics rivaled those of Bruce Springsteen. The title tune and “Mainstreet” are top-drawer stuff, but almost as impressive are such album tracks as “Rock and Roll Never Forgets,” “The Fire Down Below,” “Ship of Fools” and “Come to Poppa.”

“Year of the Cat,” Al Stewart

Since his debut in 1967, Al Stewart has shown a rare talent for writing autobiographical and fictional story-songs, using detailed imagery, historical references and colorful anecdotes to accompany his accessible melodies. He has sometimes written three or four different lyrics for the same song before settling on one. Indeed, his signature song “Year of the Cat” was first known as “Foot of the Stage” in an earlier draft. Stewart had managed only a modest cult following until 1975 when his “Modern Times” LP reached #30 on US album charts, paving the way for his delightful “Year of the Cat” album in October 1976. It’s remarkably consistent and thoroughly engaging, from the majestic “Lord Grenville” and “Broadway Hotel” to the forboding “One Stage Before” and “Flying Sorcery.” The minor hit “On the Border” features incredible Spanish guitar by Peter White, while “Year of the Cat” includes the multi-talented Phil Kenzie on alto sax. Stewart’s nasal vocal tone is a turnoff to some, but I love the way producer Alan Parsons soft-pedals the voice to accentuate the fascinating words he’s singing.

“Frampton Comes Alive,” Peter Frampton

In 1976, it seemed as if you could hear this album booming out of every college dorm room and every teenager’s bedroom in the nation. Frampton had been something of a boy wonder, helping to form Humble Pie at 18 as a virtuoso guitarist before deciding to go the solo route in 1972. He found only limited success with four studio LPs of mostly original material over the next few years, and decided he’d like to try a live album to capture the excitement he got from performing. His label actually urged him to make it a double album, and when it was released in January 1976, it began a meteoric rise to the #1 position by April. I don’t much care for live albums because of excessive crowd noise, and “Frampton Comes Alive!” was a notorious example of that. But the songs were great, Frampton and band performed them well and the whole thing felt like a party on vinyl. It spawned three hit singles, including “Show Me the Way” and “Baby I Love Your Way,” and incredibly, a 14-minute version of “Do You Feel Like We Do” (edited down to about six minutes by many stations). “Something’s Happening” and “Lines on My Face” are the standout tracks.

“The Pretender,” Jackson Browne

It is said that from pain and suffering often comes great art, and this emotional album is a prime example of that. In the early 1970s, Browne emerged from Southern California as an uncommonly insightful songwriting talent on his first three albums (“Saturate Before Using,” “For Everyman” and “Late For the Sky”), offering warm, honest music and intelligent, worldweary lyrics. Then, in 1976, his wife Phyllis took her own life, leaving him a single dad for his 3-year-old son Ethan. From that trauma came Browne’s best work yet, with brilliant tracks like “The Fuse,” “The Only Child” the hit single “Here Come Those Tears Again” and the anthemic title song, in which he wryly laid out his purpose in life (“I’m gonna be a happy idiot and struggle for the legal tender”). Released in November 1976, it reached #5 in early 1977 and began a four-album span of Top Ten albums (“Running on Empty,” “Hold Out,” “Lawyers in Love”).

“Hejira,” Joni Mitchell

From simple folk beginnings in 1968 to startling confessional songwriting in 1971-72 to her most accessible songs on “Court and Spark” in 1974, Joni Mitchell surprised us and pleased us with each step in her musical evolution. Always intrigued by jazz and its more complicated free-form structures, she recruited some of LA’s best jazz session players in 1975 for “The Hissing Summer Lawns,” a diverse, transitional LP. She followed that in 1976 with “Hejira,” one of her most fully realized works that gets better with each listening. The word “hejira” means exodus or departure, and Mitchell wrote the songs for the album while driving across the country on a sort of spiritual journey. Songs like “Amelia” (a tribute to the legendary solo pilot), “Black Crow” and “Refuge of the Road” deftly used the travel motif, and the popular opening track “Coyote” celebrated the artist’s passion for wanderlust. With extraordinary fretless bassist Jaco Pastorius and guitarist Larry Carlton on board, the music simultaneously challenged and soothed listeners. This is a truly astonishing record I wholeheartedly recommend.

“Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers,” Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

When I learned that it took Petty and his band more than two years to find their audience in America, I didn’t feel as bad for not being hip to the group from the beginning. Emerging from Florida by way of Los Angeles, Petty wrote all the songs for their debut album, which was released in November of 1976. The Brits embraced him right away following a tour there, pushing the debut album to #24 on UK charts, with “Anything That’s Rock ‘n’ Roll” charting as a single. Word spread slowly, and by early 1978, “Breakdown” and “American Girl” were getting substantial FM airplay, and the LP peaked at #55. Petty and The Heartbreakers finally broke through with their “Damn the Torpedoes” album in 1979 and became one of the most popular rock bands of its time over the next 35 years. It’s pretty amazing to go back now and listen to how mature their first songs were, and how fresh and exciting they sounded. I wish I’d been more attuned to them at the time. This is a solid album well deserving of Top 15 status.

“Amigos,” Santana

In 1969 at Woodstock, Santana introduced American audiences to latin rock, with percussion-heavy albums and a handful of Top Ten singles (“Evil Ways,” “Black Magic Woman,” “Oye Como Va”). Leader Carlos Santana, one of the most expressive lead guitarists in rock history, took the group into jazz fusion territory for a couple of side projects, but by 1976, the group was back on the latin rock track with a liberal dose of funk vibes as well. The resulting album, “Amigos,” returned the group to the Top Ten on US album charts, boasting seven long tracks that show off Santana’s instrumental dexterity as well as new singer Greg Walker’s vocals. The 8-minute “Dance Sister Dance” is a real tour de force, and “Take Me With You” offers a relentless percussion extravaganza, but the pinnacle here, by far, is the slow, bluesy “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” which reached Top Ten in the UK and has been a mainstay of the group’s setlist every tour since.

“In the Pocket,” James Taylor

The shy, introspective guy who wrote such downbeat songs as “Fire and Rain,” “Carolina In My Mind,” “Long Ago and Far Away” and “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” seemed to turn a corner in 1975 with the decidedly upbeat LP “Gorilla” and the optimism of “Mexico,” “Lighthouse” and his cover of Marvin Gaye’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You).” A year later, his “In the Pocket” album proved a worthy successor, full of warm, wonderful melodies like the hit “Shower the People,” “Money Machine” and a cover of Bobby Womack’s soul workout “Woman’s Gotta Have It.” But Taylor still knew how to wear his heart on his sleeve when the chips were down — the supportive “Don’t Be Sad ‘Cause Your Sun is Down” features Stevie Wonder’s expressive harmonica, and the album closer, “Golden Moments,” positively shimmers. The LP reached #16 in the summer of 1976 and set the stage for the joyous “JT” album that followed.

“A Trick of the Tail,” Genesis

In the late ’60s, Great Britain was a hotbed of talent for young musicians with classical music training and rock music aspirations, and led by bands like Genesis, Procol Harum and Moody Blues, the progressive rock genre was born. With the theatrical Peter Gabriel as the mesmerizing front man, Genesis led the way, building a fanatical cult base over a six-album run through 1974. Then Gabriel left the lineup, and many observers felt the band couldn’t continue without him. But lo and behold, drummer Phil Collins emerged as a fine singer whose voice actually resembled Gabriel’s, and with a solid batch of FM-radio-friendly songs, they released “A Trick of the Tail,” which cracked the Top 30 on US album charts for the first time. The foursome of Collins, guitarist Steve Hackett, keyboardist Tony Banks and bassist Mike Rutherford wrote and recorded such sophisticated classics as “Dance on a Volcano,” “Squonk,” “Mad Man Moon,” “Los Endos” and the title tune, plus two mellow tracks (“Ripples” and “Entangled”). The band would become a much more commercial entity by the 1980s, but in 1976, they remained firmly in the prog rock camp.

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Honorable mentions:

Warren Zevon,” Warren Zevon

Fly Like an Eagle,” Steve Miller Band

Breezin’,” George Benson

A New World Record,” Electric Light Orchestra

Spitfire,” Jefferson Starship

Leftoverture,” Kansas

Hasten Down the Wind,” Linda Ronstadt

I Want You,” Marvin Gaye

Small Change,” Tom Waits

Run With the Pack,” Bad Company

Native Sons,” Loggins and Messina

Turnstiles,” Billy Joel

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In the summer of ’75, the world’s gonna come alive

For me, 1975 was a transitional year. I was finishing my sophomore year at the University of Cincinnati before transferring to Syracuse University in the fall to pursue journalism. I was also broadening my musical horizons to try other genres besides my tried-and-true blues rock and singer-songwriter acoustic.

The music business was transitory as well. Country rock was peaking, progressive rock was on its last legs, jazz fusion was making inroads, funk/R&B was stronger than ever, and both disco and punk were poised to soon have their time in the limelight.

Each spring here at Hack’s Back Pages, I like to go back into the archives of 50 years ago and review the list of several hundred albums that came out during that calendar year. Here in 2025, that means determining my picks for the best 15 albums of 1975.

I have friends who, if asked, would most likely come up with an entirely different list of 15 albums they liked better than my 15 selections. That’s okay. It’s the nature of subjective lists. Our selections are usually a factor of how old we were, who we were hanging out with, and what we were doing that particular year.

I welcome your comment and suggestions about the music you liked best from 1975.

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“Born to Run,” Bruce Springsteen

From the day it debuted in August 1975, this album has been almost universally praised as an extraordinary masterpiece, a thrilling amalgam of rock and R&B. Springsteen said the lyrics of the album’s eight songs tell the tale of one long summer day and night, full of romantic imagery, passion and desperation. He said he was inspired by the sounds and lyrical themes of 1950s icons like Roy Orbison, Duane Eddy and Elvis, and the production techniques of Phil Spector. Epic tracks like “Thunder Road,” “Jungleland,” “She’s the One,” “Night” and the title song took listeners on cinematic journeys, while more introspective tunes like “Meeting Across the River” gave us the chance to catch our breath and ruminate on coming events. Some say Springsteen never again reached the heights he achieved on this LP, and as much as I have admired much of his music since, I’m inclined to agree. For me, it’s the album of the year, and in the Top Ten of the decade.

“Blood on the Tracks,” Bob Dylan

On the strength of the phenomenal “Tangled Up in Blue” alone, this incredible album earns a place as one of Dylan’s top three LPs. But there’s so much more here: the gentle lope of “Simple Twist of Fate,” the reassuring perfection of “Shelter From the Storm,” the return to traditional folk structure on “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.” Although Dylan claims the songs are not autobiographical, many observers believe the lyrics sprang from turmoil in his life at the time, notably a growing estrangement from his then-wife Sara. It’s interesting to note that he recorded all ten songs in New York City in September 1974, then re-recorded them with different arrangements and other musicians in Minnesota in December, and chose five from each session for the final LP, released in January 1975. Dylan sings well on this collection, and the songs have endured and matured masterfully over the years.

“Katy Lied,” Steely Dan

This expertly crafted album, Steely Dan’s fourth overall, was the first after Donald Fagen and Walter Becker elected to stop touring and focus on creating “sonically perfect” music in the studio. The duo continued their penchant for writing concise pop songs adorned with enigmatic lyrics and brilliant instrumental fills from an array of session musicians. We get to hear Michael McDonald’s harmonies for the first time, and the virtuoso guitar of jazz great Larry Carlton, and the sharp drumming of a young Jeff Porcaro throughout. How to pick a favorite among such stunning tracks as “Chain Lightning,” “Rose Darling,” “Bad Sneakers,” “Daddy Don’t Live in That New York City No More” and “Your Gold Teeth II”? Well, you can focus on “Doctor Wu,” carried by the great Phil Woods on sax. Fagen’s lead vocals on “Katy Lied” are among the best he ever committed to vinyl, and although it wasn’t Steely Dan’s most commercially successful LP (peaking at #13), it was perhaps its most appealing.

“Young Americans,” David Bowie

The man who sold the world a hunky-dory image of himself as a space-age glam rocker named Ziggy Stardust made his first chameleon-like career change in 1975 with the release of “Young Americans,” his convincing “blue-eyed soul” LP. Suddenly, the British dude with the orange hair and lightning-bolt facial makeup became a purveyor of American black soul music, thanks in large part to the involvement of funk guitarist Carlos Alomar, a veteran cohort of James Brown and Wilson Pickett. With soulful backing vocalists and saxophonist David Sanborn in the mix, Bowie crafted a delicious R&B sound that made pop listeners sit up and take notice. The appealing title track in particular won him a broader audience, as did deeper tracks like “Win” and “Right.” He even shared the spotlight with none other than John Lennon, collaborating on a cover of his Beatles tune “Across the Universe” and one of Bowie’s biggest hits ever, the #1 single “Fame.”

“Blow By Blow,” Jeff Beck

Since emerging as the audacious new guitarist replacing Eric Clapton in The Yardbirds in the mid-’60s, Beck blazed trails with a singular sound and technique that reinvented blues guitar rock. His 1968 solo debut “Truth” created the template that Led Zeppelin capitalized on with their ’70s catalog, and his next several LPs with different musicians expanded on that genre. By 1975, he decided to concentrate on purely instrumental tracks as he dove headfirst into jazz fusion, shepherded by ex-Beatles producer George Martin, on the bold “Blow By Blow” album. This no-vocals collection of guitar workouts was decidedly non-commercial, but with the involvement of R&B god Stevie Wonder on tracks like “Thelonious” and “‘Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers,” the album was a surprise hit, reaching #4 on US album charts. Do yourself a favor and check out “Freeway Jam,” Beck’s astonishing cover of “She’s a Woman” and the eight-minute epic, “Diamond Dust.”

“Wish You Were Here,” Pink Floyd

In 1974, the members of Pink Floyd faced a dilemma: How to follow the game-changing success of their monumental “Dark Side of the Moon” LP? The answer, it seems, was to keep doing what they’d been doing. It took well over a year to write and record, but “Wish You Were Here” does a masterful job of building on their laurels with more studio wizardry and superb musicianship. They continued mining the theme of madness with “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” the epic, 25-minute piece (split into two sections) that pays tribute to their fallen founder Syd Barrett. The demands of their record label for more product was cynically described in “Have a Cigar,” and Roger Waters’s mellower acoustic side showed its face on the withering title song. David Gilmour’s stunning guitar work and droning vocals carried the day throughout, and the result was another in a series of international #1 albums.

The Hissing of Summer Lawns,” Joni Mitchell

The soprano voice, penetrating lyrics and stark acoustic music of her debut were eons away from the startling sounds that comprise “The Hissing of Summer Lawns,” Mitchell’s seventh LP. We first heard hints of her fascination with jazz chords and instruments the previous year on “Court and Spark” and the live package “Miles of Aisles,” where she was supported by sax man Tom Scott and the jazz musicians of L.A. Express. With this album, Mitchell pushed the boundaries further along on tracks like “Shadows and Light,” “The Jungle Line” and “Harry’s House/Centerpiece.” Traces of her former motif showed up in the melodic pop of “In France They Kiss on Main Street,” and on transitional work like “Don’t Interrupt the Sorrow” and “Edith and the Kingpin.” Instead of the naked confessional of “Blue” and “For the Roses,” this time around she chose to explore societal malaise and smug materialism. It was a brave evolution from a woman who would take even bigger risks with her artistry in the coming decade.

“Gorilla,” James Taylor

The “aw shucks” persona and quixotic introspection of “Sweet Baby James” and “Mud Slide Slim” had, by 1975, morphed into a more buoyant, whimsical style that dominates Taylor’s sixth LP, “Gorilla.” Most notably, his joyous cover of the Marvin Gaye classic “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)” took the charts by storm, peaking at #5 that summer. Just as sunny is the album opener, “Mexico,” and the tender tribute to his new daughter, “Sarah Maria.” Taylor was still capable of moody metaphors like “Lighthouse” and the risky temptations of “You Make It Easy,” but overall, the feeling I got from this LP was that he had temporarily shelved his depression and soul-searching for a calmer, more positive approach. His demons would return to share the space on future albums, but at this point, it was a relief to hear him celebrate life more fully. As his upbeat song “Music” states, “Just leave a happy side out loud sometime, /There’s a symphony inside you, there’s a thousand things for you to do…”

“Wind on the Water,” Crosby and Nash

These two guys — the mellower pair compared to the fiery nature of Stephen Stills and Neil Young — always intrigued and mesmerized me with the intricate harmonies and warm melodies they brought to the CSNY mix. Their initial solo musings in 1971 (Crosby’s enigmatic “If I Could Only Remember My Name” and Nash’s poignant “Songs For Beginners”) offered considerable promise, and their collaboration on 1975’s “Wind on the Water” reinforced my opinion that they were the more gifted songwriters. With James Taylor’s backing band (and Taylor himself) participating, Crosby and Nash came up with ten recordings that run the gamut from sublime (“Naked in the Rain” and “Carry Me”) to spirited (“Take the Money and Run” and “Low Down Payment”). The highlight for me has always been the closing medley that pairs Crosby’s vocal chorale “Critical Mass” with Nash’s heartbreaking ode to the whale, “Wind on the Water.”

“Fleetwood Mac,” Fleetwood Mac

Born as a British purist blues group in the late ’60s, Fleetwood Mac eventually added American singer-songwriter Bob Welch to keep them going in the 1971-1974 period. In August 1975, when a friend played me an album by “a new group called Fleetwood Mac,” I knew they certainly weren’t new, but their latest additions to the lineup — guitarist Lindsay Buckingham and singer Stevie Nicks — brought new life, new voices and new songs. The self-titled “Fleetwood Mac” LP (their tenth) eventually reached #1 and went seven times platinum on the strength of three hit singles (“Over My Head,” “Rhiannon” and “Say You Love Me”), but just as appealing were deep tracks like “I’m So Afraid,” “World Turning,” “Warm Ways” and especially the Nicks beauty “Landslide.” It was the initial salvo in a pop juggernaut that saw the band dominate the charts for the next decade. Overplayed? You bet, but you can’t deny the quality of material on this gem from 1975.

“Still Crazy After All These Years,” Paul Simon

One of the most important and influential songwriters of our time, Simon had already made a huge impact with Art Garfunkel during their phenomenal 1965-1970 run, and his first two solo works (“Paul Simon” and “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon”) were critics’ darlings with major hit singles. With his first marriage dissolving, Simon wrote a more reflective, downbeat collection of songs for his next LP, and the result was “Still Crazy After All These Years,” the Grammy winner for Album of the Year. Musically dominated by Richard Tee’s electric piano and Steve Gadd’s drums, the album is full of some of Simon’s finest moments: a gospel duet with Phoebe Snow (“Gone at Last”), a reunion with Garfunkel (“My Little Town”), a whimsical look at breaking up (“50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”) and the resignation of the passing of time (the quasi-dark title song). Add in the sobering “You’re Kind,” “Have a Good Time” and “I Do It For Your Love” and you’ve got yourself an album for the ages.

“Ambrosia,” Ambrosia

By fusing a sort of symphonic art rock with slickly produced pop reminiscent of The Beatles’ “Abbey Road,” Ambrosia came up with a debut album in 1975 that is best described as melodic progressive. Hailing from the South Bay area of L.A., singer-guitarist David Pack and singer-bassist Joe Puerta came up with an irresistible batch of songs that alternately challenged and soothed listeners. The catchy “Nice, Nice, Very Nice” used words from author Kurt Vonnegut, while the more cinematic “Holdin’ On to Yesterday” ended up reaching #17 on US pop charts. I grew fond of deeper tracks like “Make Us All Aware,” “Time Waits For No One,” “Lover Arrive” and “World Leave Me Alone” that showed off their more complex arrangements. The group would eventually jump into soft-rock waters with Top Five hits like “How Much I Feel,” “You’re the Only Woman” and “Biggest Part of Me,” but I prefer the songs found on this surprising debut.

“By Numbers,” The Who

It was probably inevitable that Pete Townshend and The Who would eventually relinquish their hold on the “loudest/best rock band” crown after the four-album dynasty of “Tommy,” “Live at Leeds,” “Who’s Next” and “Quadrophenia.” To my ears, though, the quality of their songs and performances remained strong on their next entry, “The Who By Numbers.” Townshend was rather burnt out and drinking too much at this point, and the lyrics certainly reflect that (“However Much I Booze,” “How Many Friends,” “Imagine a Man”). Said Townshend, “The songs were written with me stoned out of my brain in my living room, crying my eyes out, detached from my own work and from the whole project. I felt empty.” Strangely, the resulting music was both hauntingly beautiful and powerful, from power-chord rock (“Slip Kid,” “In a Hand or a Face”) to docile acoustic folk (“Blue, Red and Grey”). Even when feeling out of sorts, Townshend and the band still came through with a satisfying slab of vinyl.

“Minstrel in the Gallery,” Jethro Tull

Found smack in the middle of their early ’70s prog rock successes (“Aqualung,” “Thick as a Brick,” “Passion Play” and “War Child”) and their late ’70s folk-rock trilogy (“Songs From the Wood,” “Heavy Horses” and “Stormwatch”), this transitional album is one of Jethro Tull’s underrated jewels. Ian Anderson wrote more personal, introspective pieces like “One White Duck,” “Requiem” and “Grace,” which contrasted with the more bombastic “Cold Wind to Valhalla” and “Black Satin Dancer.” The highlights for me are the two tracks that include both acoustic and electric sections: “Minstrel in the Gallery,” the semi-autobiographical title song, and especially the 16-minute suite “Baker Street Muse.” Anderson’s voice and flute are in fine form, as is Martin Barre’s distinctive electric guitar. David (later Dee) Palmer came up with string arrangements for most of these tracks, giving them an air of sophistication not found on other Tull LPs.

“Red Octopus,” Jefferson Starship

Once Jefferson Airplane flew its last flight in 1972, two of its primary singer-songwriters — Paul Kantner and Grace Slick — hoped to resurrect their group as Jefferson Starship with guitarist Craig Chaquico and multi-instrumentalists David Freiberg and Pete Sears. They released “Dragon Fly” in 1974, a solid group of songs that featured “Caroline,” the lone entry by estranged band founder Marty Balin. He was persuaded to return to the fold as an official member, along with fiddlemeister Papa John Creach, for their next LP, “Red Octopus,” which ended up being the most successful album in the Airplane/Starship catalog, thanks in large part to Balin’s #3 hit “Miracles.” The LP also included great rock tunes by the other members, FM radio favorites such as “Fast Buck Freddie,” “Play on Love,” “Sweeter Than Honey” and “There Will Be Love.” It’s a thoroughly enjoyable album that combined the Starship’s commerciality with the counterculture swagger of the Airplane at its best.

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I’m sure some readers will disagree with my selections, preferring some of these “honorable mentions” below, or even a few not even singled out here at all (Rush’s “Fly By Night,” The Tubes’ debut, Bad Company’s “Straight Shooter,” Gary Wright’s “The Dream Weaver”). Sorry — can’t please everyone with these subjective lists…

Honorable mentions:

“Physical Graffiti, Led Zeppelin

“Breakaway,” Art Garfunkel

“One Of These Nights,” Eagles

“That’s the Way of the World,” Earth, Wind & Fire

“Songbird,” Jesse Colin Young

“Elite Hotel,” Emmylou Harris

“A Night at the Opera,” Queen

“Prisoner in Disguise,” Linda Ronstadt

“Dreamboat Annie,” Heart

“Face the Music,” Electric Light Orchestra

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