Although I've long since completed (and submitted) a draft of my proposed book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1), the subject itself remains open for me. I continue to work on more GREM! entries, for use here on the blog and for potential engagement in an even-more-theoretical The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 2). An infinite number of tracks can each be THE greatest record ever made as long as they take turns. Maybe I take the infinite part of the book's tagline too literally.
Nonetheless! Here's a look at bits of some of my many GREM! works in progress.
THE PRETENDERS: Back On The Chain Gang
It was just like starting over.
The Pretenders emerged in England in 1978, led by Chrissie Hynde, an American playing guitar and singing lead. Hynde, guitarist James Honeywell-Scott, bassist Pete Farndon, and drummer Martin Chambers turned out to be great Pretenders, debuting on record with a 1979 single covering the Kinks' "Stop Your Sobbing." More records followed: singles, two albums (1980's Pretenders and 1981's Pretenders II), with the 1981 EP Extended Play in between albums.
And then half the band died.
WAR: Low Rider
Has anyone ever used the word "imperious" to describe the rhythm of War's 1975 hit "Low Rider?" I'd presume it hasn't been done, and it may be a stretch to use it now. But GodDAYum, that regal riddum rules by divine and absolute right. Imperious War!
When discussing the records that make us wanna dance, prance, and make romance, we often talk about the beat. But more than the beat, "Low Rider" has a visceral, almost physical rhythm that dictates a mandatory moving of your body. Typical of me being me, I didn't come to appreciate that rhythm until way, way after the fact.
BONEY M: My Friend Jack
My relationship with disco is complicated. I hated it during its heyday, but began to re-think my position as it became clear that some (not all) of the Disco Sucks movement was built upon a foundation of tacit racism and homophobia. I further realized that a lot of the disco LP-burnin' Fascists hated my preferred punk and power pop almost as much as they hated dat ole debbil disco, so...enemy of my enemy is my friend.
But never mind the shifting parameters of my mixed-signal interactions with disco. Eurodisco group Boney M was a breed apart anyway, willfully weird but extremely pop.
PEGGY LEE: Fever
There is cool, and then there is cool. Cool-as-a-fever cool. No other approximation of cool has ever been anywhere near the sizzling cool of Peggy Lee's 1958 absolute annexation of Little Willie John's R & B (and crossover pop) hit "Fever."
THE MAYTALS: Pressure Drop
Listening to Johnny Nash didn't prepare me for this.
I first saw Toots and the Maytals name-checked in some magazine (either Rolling Stone or Playboy, possibly both) in the late '70s, though I wasn't conscious of the music until many years thereafter. I recall that Linda Ronstadt was among those praising the essential nature of Maytals LPs Funky Kingston and Reggae Got Soul, and if I couldn't quite fit reggae into my new wave rock 'n' roll world view at the time (the Clash notwithstanding), I did get there eventually.
THE POLICE: Roxanne
When I worked at a record store in the '80s, one of my co-workers was horrified when I mentioned that I didn't really care about the music of the Police. "Horrified" may not be much of an exaggeration; he gasped, put his hands to the sides of his face in a manner that would have made Macaulay Culkin proud, and backed away from me slowly. I think I saw him mouth the world Unclean!
I had liked the band initially, around the time of their first two albums in the late '70s, but found myself losing interest in them as they became (to my taste) increasingly...mainstream? I guess. I wasn't trying to be hipper than the crowd, honest; it was just that I preferred their earlier records. I appreciate some of their bigger hits a bit more now than I did then, though I'm pretty sure I'll always detest that damned stalker song, "Every Breath You Take."
And "Roxanne?" My God, "Roxanne" was far and away the best thing on AM Top 40 in 1979. Nothing else even came close to it.
ABBA: Dancing Queen
There is a false conviction among some rock 'n' roll fans that ABBA's music is inherently schlocky. This conviction is a big ol' pile of piggy poop.
AM radio surrendered to ABBA's "Waterloo" in 1973. I may have struggled with some indecision over whether or not I liked the song at the time, and I can't explain why. It was a pop song. I like pop songs. And I sorta liked ABBA. Ultimately, I decided that I liked "Waterloo," too.
"SOS" was my favorite among ABBA's initial run of hits, though the only ABBA singles I bought were "Knowing Me, Knowing You" and "Take A Chance On Me." I also loved "Dancing Queen." I had no use for "Fernando." I was indifferent to "Mamma Mia" and "I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do." Reading in Bomp! magazine's 1978 power pop issue about "So Long," a purportedly great ABBA power pop song I'd not yet heard, was reason enough for me to buy my friend Jay's copy of ABBA's Greatest Hits. I was perfectly okay with ABBA's induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Hell, a lot of ABBA's hits are closer to original-formula '50s/early '60s rockin' pop than anything that a band like, say, Genesis ever did.
"Dancing Queen" is ABBA's signature tune. It's often lumped in with disco, but its gloss is more girl-group than Studio 54. It shimmers in its own deliciously pure pop way, not beholden to trends, timeless yet still so '70s it could have been sporting a WIN button.
THE AVENGERS: We Are The One
The Clash sang that anger could be power. Even before that line appeared in The Clash's London Calling album track "Clampdown" in 1979, a San Francisco group called the Avengers was on stage at Winterland, opening for the Sex Pistols in that group's final appearance meltdown, and embodying the concept of cathartic fury. Anger. Power. Rock 'n' roll.
BLONDIE: (I'm Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear
A love letter from Lois Lane, sung by Marilyn Monroe, backed by the Dave Clark Five.
Blondie's lead singer Debbie Harry was sexy without any appearance of trying to be sexy. She didn't even seem to be conscious of her everyday allure, her natural beauty and glamour, her God-given possession of It. She just was.
My first awareness of Blondie came via Phonograph Record Magazine in 1977. I've never forgotten writer Mark Shipper's description of the band's look as "like Marilyn Monroe backed by the Dave Clark Five," a blurb which (even more than Debbie Harry's attractive image) sold me on Blondie well before I ever heard a note of their music. When I got to college that fall, I immediately started carpet-bombing the school radio station with requests for all of the acts I'd read about in PRM, from Television to the Dictators, and certainly including constant (and urgent) petitions to hear Blondie's "X Offender." I loved the track on first spin, and I have never stopped loving it since. And they called it puppy love!
THE JAM: In The City
Punk could be pop. In America, the Ramones already knew that, even if the charts didn't reflect the verity of that aesthetic.
THE YOUNG RASCALS: Good Lovin'
Little Steven says garage rock is "white kids trying to play black rhythm and blues and failing--gloriously." Fair enough. So what do we call it when a white group tries to play soul music, and succeeds? We could call that the Young Rascals.
THE RECORDS: Starry Eyes
Dreams of fame and fortune are not held solely by the performers.
THE VOGUES: Five O'Clock World
It should only be a footnote in the story of "Five O'Clock World," but the result is so engaging, so perfect, that I can't help elevating it to a prime moment in the history of rockin' pop on TV.
THE DICKIES: Banana Splits
TRA-LA-LAAAA! TRA-LA-LA-LAAAAAA! TRA-LA-LAAAA! TRA-LA-LA-LAAAAAAAAAA!
No. You get a hold of yourself. Don't be messin' with the manifest majesty of the Banana Splits.
And don't be messin' with the manifest DESTINY of The Greatest Record Ever Made!, whether it's Volume 1, Volume 2, or an undrafted free agent. The infinite does what the infinite does.
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