I’ve been trying to pin down Hall & Oates.
It has not been easy.
It has not been easy.
soft rock
Record #420: Gerry Rafferty – City to City (1978)
With a musical moment like that sax solo on “Baker Street,” all this album has to do to be great is not suck.
It does a little more than that.
It does a little more than that.
Record #418: Firefall – Firefall (1976)
After years of smug punk-ethos and hipstery you-wouldn’t-have-heard-of-thems, I’m trying to be a better poptimist. Cynicism and taste policing stopped being fun a long time ago.
Part of that is embracing the mountains of soft rock filling discarded collections, thrift stores, and $1 bins.
But sometimes, I find records that don’t require me to lower my standards to enjoy them.
Part of that is embracing the mountains of soft rock filling discarded collections, thrift stores, and $1 bins.
But sometimes, I find records that don’t require me to lower my standards to enjoy them.
As long as I’ve been collecting, I’ve seen Firefall all over the place. So when I stumbled upon it this past weekend, I decided to take a chance on it.
And that gamble is paying off.
And that gamble is paying off.
Record #416: Christopher Cross – Christopher Cross (1979)
I was only marginally interested in this MOR, unassuming soft rock album, until I learned something that broke my brain.
This record beat Pink Floyd’s The Wall for Album of the Year.
This record beat Pink Floyd’s The Wall for Album of the Year.
Record #413: Boz Scags – Silk Degrees (1981)
One of the strange things about classic rock radio is that the songs the stations play aren’t always the best representation of the albums they were cut from.
For instance, if you were expecting Silk Degrees to sound like “Lido Shuffle” throughout, you’re in for a few surprises.
For instance, if you were expecting Silk Degrees to sound like “Lido Shuffle” throughout, you’re in for a few surprises.
Record #370: Hall & Oates – Voices (1980)
I’ve said on multiple occasions that my musical worldview has a number of blind spots–bands (or sometimes entire subgenres) that have made a mark on pop music that I’m just entirely ignorant of.
Hall & Oates occupy a certain pocket of ‘70s and ‘80s middle of the road soft rock that I’ve somehow missed.
Hall & Oates occupy a certain pocket of ‘70s and ‘80s middle of the road soft rock that I’ve somehow missed.
Of course I’ve heard their name–I’d be hard pressed to miss that. But I’m not sure if I’ve ever knowingly heard them. My friend Dan flipped out when he heard this, so when I found this copy in my mom’s collection, I took it home.
And now that I hear them, I’ve put a name to some of the great pop tunes I still hear on the radio–”Kiss On My List,” “You Make My Dreams,” and “Every Time You Go Away” still have healthy radio airplay, and with good reason. They’re infectious pop tunes with harmonies as sweet as honey. What’s surprising is just how new wavey some of the deep cuts are. Side one features a bunch of moments that clearly took notes from Talking Heads and Duran Duran. But as post-punky as they get, their vocal interplay remains just as sweet and sun kissed as the pop singles. It makes for a surprising first foray into a band’s catalog, but I dig it.
And now that I hear them, I’ve put a name to some of the great pop tunes I still hear on the radio–”Kiss On My List,” “You Make My Dreams,” and “Every Time You Go Away” still have healthy radio airplay, and with good reason. They’re infectious pop tunes with harmonies as sweet as honey. What’s surprising is just how new wavey some of the deep cuts are. Side one features a bunch of moments that clearly took notes from Talking Heads and Duran Duran. But as post-punky as they get, their vocal interplay remains just as sweet and sun kissed as the pop singles. It makes for a surprising first foray into a band’s catalog, but I dig it.
Record #317: The Doors – Waiting for the Sun (1968)
For being psychedelic mainstays, the Doors are tragically unhip among certain musical circles.
A lot of that has to do with “Hello, I Love You,” a hokey, clumsy pop single released by a band that just the year earlier released two classic albums in the psychedelic canon. It has always been my least favorite Doors single (well…excepting their cover of Backdoor Man).
Record #310: Chicago – Chicago 17 (1984)
Anyone who appreciates Chicago for their unique blend of progressive jazz and soft rock would be sorely disappointed by this disc.
Record #309: Chicago – Chicago V (1972)
You can never be sure what’s going to happen when you put on a Chicago record for the first time. What’s coming first? Soft rock? Swing? Progressive rock? In the case of V, the answer is “the closest Chicago ever came to free jazz.”
Record #273: Chicago – Chicago VII (1974)
To the uninitiated (me), Chicago VII can seem like one of the group’s most impenetrable work. While Chicago has always seemed like two separate bands, one given to funky jazz fusion, the other firmly planted in radio-friendly soft rock, those two groups have always cooperated with eachother, trading off tracks. Here, the two camps are at odds.