Risqué.
Writing partners Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards produce probably one of the most enjoyable albums I’ve listened to over the course of this blog, Chic’s Risqué. Though the lyricism is simple and mostly concerns dancing and having a good time, the infectious rhythm renders the lyrics almost redundant, as they serve only to hypnotise the listener further with ear worm choruses. What difficult themes there are are hidden under the surface, and there is no need to dig too deep. The opening track (and what a way to start) is the quintessential disco track “Good Times”, driven by Edwards’ wholesome, soul-purifyingly groovy bassline and Rodgers’ chucky funk guitar, featuring an extended instrumental break that is too satisfying to fathom. The following track, “Warm Summer Night”, in contrast to the upbeat disco of “Good Times”, is as relaxing and calm as the name suggests, a tropical love song reminiscent of a Spanish beach at sunset. With the exception of the Shirley Bassey style ballad, “Will You Cry (When You Hear This Song)”, the rest of Risqué is absolute, uncontrollable, funky disco; you would not be human if you could listen without wanting to get up and give a little boogie. Go on. Do it.
Solid State Survivor.
This is why I started the blog. To discover albums from artists I hadn’t heard of before. For every disappointing record there is a resounding triumph; Solid State Survivor by pioneering, Japanese electronic band Yellow Music Orchestra, falls squarely into the latter. The record opens with the techno-disco track “Technopolis” which is akin to something found on Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories, before transitioning into the pleasant, danceable sentient instrumentation of “Absolute Ego Dance”. The remaining tracks float around in the new-wave, synth, techno space, as well as a trippy, sci-fi cover of The Beatles’ “Day Tripper” that sounds as though John, Paul, George and Ringo are attempting to play using the control panels Back On The USS Enterprise. Yellow Magic Orchestra’s use of synthesisers, samplers, sequencers and drum machines would influence the British synth-pop bands that would go on to dominate the charts in the coming decade, heralding Solid State Survivor as a blueprint for the sound of the 80s.
Prince.
The third Prince album I’ve covered, the self-titled Prince was released 12 months before the already-reviewed Dirty Mind. Though the lyrics of Dirty Mind were controversial in their taboo, overly explicit nature, there are allusions to similar themes that course through Prince, serving as a precursor to his follow-up album. The opening track, “I Wanna Be Your Lover” is a perfect example of the direction in which Prince was heading, not only for his next record, but his style and career thereafter; a funky, synth-filled disco track, laced with innuendo and a reference to incest that will reappear on Dirty Mind’s “Sister”. The next track, “Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad?”, is a catchy synth-pop tune that features the only other musician who contributed to the album, in the form of backing vocals by Prince’s touring bassist André Cymone. Don’t let this fact bypass you either, much like his debut album For You (as well as most of Dirty Mind), Prince wrote, arranged, composed, performed and produced the album by himself. The man is a musical genius. Prince can be interpreted as a non-linear story that covers all aspects of a relationship: falling for a lesbian and attempting to change their sexuality on the catchy funk rock “Bambi” (featuring an implication of breaking her hymen, if that’s not taboo then I don’t know what is); the groovy lust-filled disco of “Sexy Dancer”; the no-less lusty, yet more romantic ballad “When We’re Dancing Close and Slow”; ending with the bluesy soul of “Still Waiting”. Prince continues to astound.
Lodger.
As ever, reviewing a David Bowie album is an incredibly difficult task, but I’ll give it a go. Collaborating again with Brian Eno and Tony Visconti, Lodger marks the final entry in the Berlin trilogy following 1977’s Low and “Heroes”. The record opens with the light ballad “Fantastic Voyage” that belies the heavy subject of Bowie’s lyrics as he contemplates the premature ending of our own journeys via nuclear war (a subject that comes full circle on the closing “Red Money”), seeking to document these atrocities through song and wonders how he will ever move passed such an idea. A theme of travel reoccurs throughout Lodger and as such so is the influence of world music, such as the evil, dark, villainy of the Kenyan inspired “African Night Flight” and the Jamaican-Middle Eastern fusion (aka Reggae Shankar) of “Yassassin”. The potentially metaphorical theme of travel is interrupted however by the manic prog of “Look Back in Anger”, with Bowie reflecting on the earlier years of his career, as well as the chillingly emotionless “Repetition”, that explores domestic abuse from the violent husband’s perspective as well as that of an observer. An underrated Bowie record that many of the so called critics initially labelled the so called poorest of the so called Berlin trilogy. An experimental art rock masterpiece.
Tusk.
With the enormous success of 1977’s Rumours, expectation for Fleetwood Mac’s next album was understandably high. Lindsey Buckingham however, influenced by the burgeoning post-punk genre, wanted a departure from the soft pop rock of the previous record and, in doing so, Mac deliver something experimental with enough variety to satisfy all. The relationships and private lives of the band members that constituted much of Rumours is again brought out to air on Tusk; the opening track “Over & Over”, Christine McVie’s tale of unrequited love and an emotionally distant partner, serves as a transition between albums, luring the listener expecting the traditional soft rock ballads of old into a false sense of security, before having the rug immediately pulled from under foot with the rumbling, noisy blues rock of “The Ledge”. Despite this ever changing sound, ranging from acoustic ballads such as “Save Me a Place” to pure prog on “Sisters of the Moon” and just about everywhere in-between, the same themes appear and even lyrics are reprised, as Buckingham, McVie and Stevie Nicks describe the dysfunctional relationships they have with each other, John McVie and Mick Fleetwood. There is so much I could write about Tusk, since each track is so unique and emotive that they each deserve a paragraph in of themselves, but I’ll keep it simple and conclude that this record is fucking great.
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