Merle Haggard “Big City”
On the surface, 1981 seemed to foretell change for Merle Haggard. He left his longtime record label. America had a new President. And a wave of frustration and patriotism was sweeping the country. Conditions seemed ripe for a comeback, but change was not Merle’s style. A “return to form” felt beneath him. And yet, Merle Haggard wanted to show everyone that he was still the same goddamn Merle Haggard who wrote the same great songs with the same great stories about the sane great country. The result was “Big City” another wonderful, complicated album from perhaps the most nostalgic recording artist America has ever known.
Jonathan Richman “I, Jonathan”
Eternally young at heart, Jonathan Richman amassed a prodigious catalogue between his legendary Modern Lovers’ albums and his solo records. And while many point to “I, Jonathan” as a high water mark, the truth is that most of his releases warrant consideration. Sometimes, he sings in Spanish. Sometimes, he sings Country Music songs. Sometimes, he sings children’s songs for the kids in all of us. But his superpower -- that thing that makes him better than anyone else -- was his ability to make us feel like we were driving with the radio on in 1972 and like we were sitting in the last days of summer in 1992.
Pete Townshend “Psychoderelict”
Pete Townshend made his reputation on the concept album and he was not giving up on it. “Psychoderelict” begins with a reporter talking about a fictional, washed up British rocker by the name of Ray High, who can’t make albums anymore. The news report is soon interrupted by a great ruckus of Rock — “English Boy” is a musical statement of purpose with guitars borrowed from “Achtung Baby.” It’s almost a classic Townshend anthem. The juxtaposition screams: “Yes I’m still here. Yes I can still rock! Yes I am still writing concept albums!” But, then there’s more news and talking.
Smokey Robinson “Being With You”
Smokey Robinson was, in the 1960s, nothing short of everything. He was Carol King, Marvin Gaye, Diana Ross and David Geffen all rolled into one beautiful package. The 70s turned on him just slightly, but, in 1981, at the age of forty one, he returned to the top of the charts with “Being With You.” On the album’s cover, tucked in a striped, v-neck sweater and a couple of gold chains, he smiles at us. His hair has grown out to a casual, “I know I look good” length. His mustache is unconcerned with his lips. His eyes are the kindest shade of gold. He is the version of prime that only comes with middle age, but rarely stays.
Ian Hunter “Short Back ‘n’ Sides”
He was never, exactly, a Rock Star, though he achieved the height of success. For almost fifty years, he has always worn sunglasses in public because, according to him, he is sort of, but not exactly, albino. He is not, exactly, as poetic as Bob Dylan or as artful, exactly, as David Bowie. But he sure can sound a lot like both of them. Ian Hunter has never, exactly, been any one thing. And he has always, almost, been everything. 1981 was the dawn of New Wave. It seemed plausible, at least, that the “always almost” singer had been passed over by time. It turned out that Mick Jones of The Clash, Hunter’s number one fan, would consider nothing of the sort.
Donovan “Sutras”
After the 1970s, Donovan was no longer a “popular” recording artist. He had no discernible fanbase, no radio airplay and no American record label. Between 1984 and 1996, Donovan released no new music. While he was not making music, though, he continued to do something he had been doing for decades. He meditated. In the world of music, two of the most visible advocates for T.M. were Leonard Cohen and George Harrison. But a slightly younger and more bearded, Gen X-er has followed in their footsteps. And Rick Rubin promised Donovan the same spare, but royal, treatment that had just worked wonders for Johnny Cash.
Steve Miller Band “Italian X Rays”
By 1983, the Steve Miller Band was, perhaps unknowingly, a cynical Pop music algorithm. With each record they had become more refined in their cynicism and in the lack of struggle and humanity in their music. While it no doubt took a great deal of work and talent to make the music that Miller made then, none of the grit could be heard. “Abracadabra” was the Steve Miller Band at its most optimized and at its Waterloo. His follow-up to “Abracadabra” was 1984s “Italian X Rays,” an album that pushed the algorithm so far as to make one wonder if Miller was being ironic or experimental.
Jeff Tweedy “WARM”
Well, he did it. It’s not a perfect record. Far from it. It’s not his best music. No. But I suspect Jeff Tweedy will never get closer to something as honest, as definitive and as unflinchingly empathetic as he does on “WARM.” This is monumental, middle-aged, dude stuff. It is what the other side of decades of therapy sounds like for one of the greatest songwriters of the last thirty years. It’s a search for meaning through empathy and self-acceptance in the second half. If “WARM” were presented to me as the Old Testament for some sort of cultish men’s group, I’m pretty sure I’d sign up.
Little Richard “Lifetime Friend”
Of Rock’s 50s pioneers, Little Richard proved to be the least enduring. While Elvis kept cranking out hits, Richard made the occasional Gospel record and live album. For decades, he battled crippling drug addiction and struggled for sexual self-acceptance. After his historic early run, much of the 60s and 70s were a messy blur. But then, in 1985, Richard was surprisingly cast in the hit film, “Down and Out in Beverly Hills,” catapulting him back into contemporary popular culture. He pounced on the opportunity and quickly released “Lifetime Friend,” his first (and last) album of Rock and Roll in over a decade.
Jimmy Page “Outrider”
“Outrider” is the only solo album Jimmy Page has ever made. He was forty four, sober, and a father again, when it was released in June of 1988. He had reportedly been working on ample and varied solo material since Zeppelin broke up but was sidetracked by his work with The Firm. In fact, by the mid-80s, Page was said to have plans to release a double album of solo material, organized by the eclectic genres he was tackling. But, then, his house was burglarized and his demos were stolen and never recovered. So, if there is an ambitious, essential, Jimmy Page double album in the ether, we will never know. We will never know if he had his second half opus. What we do know is that “Outrider” is not it.
Johnny Cash “Johnny Cash is Coming to Town”
The 1980s were unkind to Johnny Cash. He was living somewhere between legend and relic. His label of thirty years, Columbia Records, had lost faith in him as a reliable commercial concern. And, notably, he had become so addicted to and unhinged from his addiction to pills that, in 1983, he would spend over a month at the Betty Ford Clinic. In 1984, Cash recorded a lightly humorous and entirely sad parody single and video called “The Chicken In Black.” He then vamped with side projects and Gospel music until 1987, when he released his first album for Mercury Records, “Johnny Cash is Coming to Town.”
John Doe “Keeper”
John Doe’s voice was once the sound of a storm cloud over a city on fire. The city was Los Angeles. The storm was sun shower named Exene Cervenka, Doe’s wife and partner in the band X. But, nearly seventy now and many years into a decorated solo career, John Doe has spent his second act answering the question: what happens when there is no city on fire and no storm below? In 2011, the year he released “Keeper,” Doe was fifty eight. He’d remarried. He had three daughters. He didn’t live in L.A. His singular challenge was to write love songs where the people in the songs are actually loved. Simple, right?
Stephen Stills “Right by You”
At twenty one, Stephen Stills wrote and performed the era-defining “For What It’s Worth,” with Buffalo Springfield. At twenty three, he wrote and performed “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” At twenty five, he released a genuinely wonderful solo debut that featured “Love The One You’re With.” After that, things got progressively worse. Eventually, they got much worse. He did not quickly lose the grip of his instruments. But he seemingly lost the grip on most everything else. Following a putrid foray near Disco in 1978, Stills took a break to ponder his great ascent and descent. Upon return, in 1984, he released “Right by You.”
Rick James “Wonderful”
Do we really know when the end has begun? I’d imagine that pessimists would recognize the signs. Optimists might not see the flares until it’s too late. But even still, I have to imagine they can trace back the eventual conclusion to the early warnings. Rick James, surely, is a third species, living in a fluid meta-space between sounds, genres and cultures and on a constant seesaw of god-like, coke binge optimism and the deep self-loathing and hangover of pessimism. So, while optimists and pessimists both eventually recognize when the end has begun, I’m not so sure that Rick James did. Otherwise, there is simply no explanation for 1988s “Wonderful.” It is the sound of a man dying, basically alone in the studio, and not realizing it.
Stephen Malkmus “Traditional Techniques”
Pavement broke up but Stephen Malkmus kind of stayed the same. He moved to Portland. He got a new band together. Every two to three years he would release an A- album. I listened to some of them. They were uniformly very good to great. It became easy to take Malkmus for granted. There was nothing not to like but it was getting easier to pass over. Surely, Malkmus himself felt some of this. First there was the solo electronic jams on “Groove Denied.” and then came “Traditional Techniques,” wherein Stephen Malkmus daringly and beautifully articulates the search and the journey.
Kenny Rogers “Kenny”
Kenny Rogers’ appeal was one of masculine kindness. At his best, his voice lands somewhere between Lionel Richie and Bob Seger on Valium. And on 1979s “Kenny,” he put that bearded charm and “Gambler” equity to work for a lovely, schmaltzy set of lite Country Pop that would go on to sell twenty million copies worldwide. Yes — in 1979, Kenny Rogers was very nearly Michael Jackson.
Ozzy Osbourne “No More Tears”
“No More Tears,” was released in the final, high days of Hair Metal and just before the germs of Alternative. It was also the first album Ozzy ever made not fucked up. So, to keep him upright, Sharon reassembled the A-Team -- Zakk Wylde on guitars, Randy Castillo on drums and bassist Bob Daisley. This band is the entire 1950s Ford Motor Plant. They make heavy things. They make them tight. They make them loud. The make Metal for people to buy.
Stevie Wonder “Conversation Peace”
You don’t say “no” to Stevie. Paul McCartney said “yes.” Prince said “yes.” Barbara Streisand. Pavarotti. Michael Jackson. Tony Bennett. Whitney Houston. They all said “yes” to Stevie. But in 1995, at some point before “Conversation Peace” was released, somebody should have said “no” to Stevie. More than once.
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds “Who Built The Moon?”
The story of the High Flying Birds’ third solo album, “Who Built The Moon?”, is the story of an artist being asked by a producer to leave all of his baggage behind. Quite literally, legendary U.K. producer and DJ, David Holmes, agreed to produce Gallagher’s record on the condition that he not bring any written songs into the studio. What Holmes did not know was that, even with just his guitars and pedals, Gallagher had enough songwriting tricks hidden in his pockets to at least fill a couple of carry ons.
Snoop Dogg “Bush”
In the 2010s, Snoop’s brand went global while his music was obscured by his celebrity and clouds of blissful smoke. 2015’s “Bush” was something of a reclamation record. With Pharrell behind the wheel, they made a chill, LA-themed, (very) Lite Space Funk record. The entire album could soundtrack the “adults only” night in 1978 at an LA skating rink, wherein The Bee Gees jammed with Funkadelic.