After decades of these songs being staples of classic rock stations and karaoke bars, it’s tempting to lump Boston in with the throngs of arena-ready, prog noodling bands often labelled (derisively) “Dad Rock.”
And yeah: your dad probably loves this album. But to dismiss it as dad rock is to miss the truth…
This is one of the greatest DIY records ever made.
I’m a devout believer in the importance of local music. Much of my life has been guided by the community I’ve gained from the local and regional music scene, and I’ve invested much in my life to its success. Perhaps the biggest reason I moved back to South Bend from Chicago was to help build the local scene here.
In that regard, one of the constant misconceptions I deal with is the idea that local music is necessarily of a lesser quality than “real” music. And while it’s true that there’s no shortage of lackluster bar bands hacking their way through Eagles covers bringing down the average, some of the most beautiful music I’ve experienced has come from the craftsmanship of people in my own community.
Take for instance In This Style, a seven-piece prog rock outfit that delivers the kind of hypnotic, mind-melting, sonic alchemy you’d expect to be played in stadiums or huge open air festivals, not small venues and dive bars.
Coheed & Cambria attracts a lot of criticism for their… whole deal. Sci-fi prog rock concept albums based on a comic book written by the lead singer who then sings about genetic wars and space armadas in an androgynous elf voice isn’t exactly a recipe for mainstream success. But at their best, Coheed has a gift for wrapping these weirder elements up in sugary sweet pop hooks and classic rock tropes.
This mystical ability to mix prog and pop made me a massive fan of their first three albums, but every time I’ve dug into their later works, it seemed they leaned far too heavily into their more experimental compositions, neglecting the earworms entirely. But after finally acquiring a copy of their stunning debut, I learned that I had entirely missed their fourth album, No World For Tomorrow, which might actually be their hookiest, catchiest, classic-rockiest album ever.
Whenever a new technology makes its way into music—such as autotune, synthesizers, samplers, or drum machines—it’s often accompanied by a chorus of naysayers saying things like, “you’d never see a REAL musician like Jimi Hendrix using that crap.”
They’re really betraying their own ignorance there, as Hendrix had absolutely no qualms about utilizing whatever new technology he could get his hands on. This is most demonstrated on the last album he made before his death, the massive double album Electric Ladyland. While the Experience had plenty of psychedelic elements on their two previous albums, Electric Ladlyand dives headlong into studio weirdness and compositional surrealness, offering an album that is as rewarding as it is imposing.
Three years ago, I fell in love with Elder’s Reflections of a Floating World, an interplanetary blend of doom metal, psychedelic rock, Krautrock, and prog.
Their fifth record Omens takes Reflections’ more meandering elements and lets them really breathe. Synths and electric pianos are just as prominent as crushing guitars, creating an album that feels more Rush than Black Sabbath.
And the results are stunning.
At times, Genesis feels less like a progressive rock band and more like Xavier’s School For Gifted Solo Pop Artists.
Of course there’s the original frontman, Peter Gabriel, who perfected the pop record in 1986’s So. His replacement, Phil Collins, crafted such heartfelt pop that 30 Rock once claimed—correctly—that all that is necessarily to enjoy him is “two ears and a heart.”
In the shadow of such massive monoliths, it makes sense that Genesis guitarist Mike Rutherford would be overlooked. In fact, I didn’t even know he had a solo career until I found this album in a box of freebies. But at first listen to his debut Mike + The Mechanics, Mike makes it clear that he’s just as capable.
The deeper I get into The Alan Parson’s Project’s later discography, the more I expect each record to disappoint me. For years, the narrative in my head had been that APP peaked hard with The Eye In the Sky and went downhill fast.
When I put Stereotomy onto my turntable, I expected the bouncing metallic synths to finally signal the Project’s downfall into uninspired new wave pastiche. But to my surprise (and delight), what followed was a record that retained the sophistication of the collective’s finest work while adding more electronic elements to their palette.
After The Eye in the Sky, Alan Parsons Project originally intended to release a double album as a follow up. Instead, they split the project into two records: Ammonia Avenue and Vulture Culture, released ten months apart in 1984.
Like its twin, Vulture Culture is another underrated gem, showcasing the Project’s effortless blend of progressive composition and infectious pop hooks.
For the last decade or so, my understanding of the Alan Parsons Project’s discography was that the collective started strong with two prog rock masterpieces, had a couple uninspired albums in the middle, then had a return to form before dropping the magnificent The Eye In the Sky and hanging up the project.
But after a friend acquired several boxes of (mostly sealed) LPs and dropped them on me to take my pick of, I have since learned that they released four records after what I thought was their swan song. Ammonia Avenue, the first record after Eye, hits more than it misses, even if it’s still overshadowed by the record before it.
A hit song is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it can thrust you into widespread acclaim. But on the other, it can pigeonhole you, your audience forever using your old stuff as a metric. Your work progresses, but your fans are stuck in the past. For a great example, remind yourself that “Creep” is still Radiohead’s biggest hit.
For another example, look to MGMT, who had three such songs. “Time to Pretend” and “Kids” especially were already several years old by the time they appeared on Oracular Spectacular. And overall, that synthpop sound wasn’t very representative of that record. If you just look at the neo-psychedelic freak folk on the deep cuts, Congratulations is a faithful follow up.