Record #47: Billy Squier – Don’t Say No (1981)

Admittedly, this album often borders on the campy, anthemic, macho-rock that dominated stadiums in the 1980s and gave us a slew of unintentional parodies and copycats.

But I love it.

Every pick up and beat drop and synth solo is in the right spot, and every. single. chorus is an invitation to punch the air and sing along. Squier’s voice is more powerful and emotive than most of the other frontmen he competed against (I’m looking at you, Guns & Roses). The tracks all benefit the from the guitarists’ ability to effortlessly create a timeless guitar riff (see: Lonely Is The Night) and his band’s superb ability to play off of one another. In less careful hands, this album could have been a self-indulgent mess, but under Squier’s supervision, everything is carefully measured, a rarity in rock music. And the result is a consistent and enjoyable rockfest that recalls the best parts of stadium rock while overlooking the worst parts (see: KISS).