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robert palmer lp, riptide, 1985, addicted to love, didn't mean to turn you on

I’ve been kind of curious about Robert Palmer, always appreciating his overall approach but only having heard his big mid-80s hits. So, I’ve been keeping an eye out for “the one with ‘Addicted to Love’ and ‘Didn’t Mean to Turn You On’ on it,” figuring that’d be a good place to start. Couple weekends ago I found it in the dollar bin at 2nd Hand Tunes in Evanston and have given it a couple spins. Here’s what I think, track by track:

Side 1

“Riptide”
A slow crooner-style ballad. Like the Honeydrippers or something. I guess that was hip in ’85, I don’t remember—I choose not to remember.

“Hyperactive”
YES! This is the 80s sound in full force. Fat drums, guitar bursts, bouncy synth chords. And Mr. Palmer’s own brand of funky, stuttery rhythm. Good chorus. Ridiculous lyrics made palatable by his growly delivery. Everything I was hoping for when I plunked down that dollar.

“Addicted to Love”
I’d hoped to still like this more than I do. It was one of two songs I knew, and was thinking they were both gems. But this isn’t the gem nostalgia had set me up for. It’s just a little bit boring. The production, though, is great, so it’s still fun to listen to. And, as I write this, I find myself singing along with some of the vocal ad libs, so maybe I should shut up.

“Trick Bag”
This song is a little goofy. The soft little horn synth sound would be fun if I were more a fan of this kind of bluesy R&B revivalist thing, which is only tolerable (to me) as a way to showcase Rob’s vocal talents.

Side 2

“Get It Through Your Heart”
Gah! Another Harry Connick style sap-fest. Though with nice airy synth sounds. But it sticks out weirdly in the run of songs I’ve been tapping my foot to. It’s one thing to throw a song with a different tempo and mood into the mix (his contemporary Peter Gabriel manages it seamlessly) but this is a song from a different album—or a different artist. (That’s why Robert Plant had his solo career and the Honeydrippers.) In trying to demonstrate his talent and “range,” he’s interrupted the flow.

“I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On”
Hell yes. This is the other gem I was counting on. This song is much more addictive than “Addicted to Love.” I have been running around the house lyrically narrating my actions to the funky tune of this song. It’s kind of dark, but has a slinky groove. And it just sounds “cool.” Maybe I’m picturing him in his slick suit with the undulating mannequin ladies, but there’s an undeniably cool lope to this minimal jam and the sounds are really tight.

“Flesh Wound”
Holy crap! Trying to compete with Van Halen? Nasty guitar riff. Nice, low, sleazy verse vocals. And a great funky chorus where most of the instruments drop out. In fact, this song is more minimal than “Turn You On”—it’s about the guitar and the drums. And I love the weird, processed guitar solo that has a vaguely mid-eastern vibe.

“Discipline of Love”
Was worried about another song about “love” but this is a great 80s audio time capsule. The super-flangy, plucky baseline, tinkly guitars, and synth stabs are a perfect summary of the sound of 1985. And his vocals have little more force behind them, which is a nice contrast to the last couple tracks. Beyond these stylistic points, it’s also catchy head-bopper.

“Riptide (Reprise)”
Somehow, this cutesy little ditty doesn’t bug me as much here. Somehow, at the end it seems a fitting bookend to the record. I think without “Get It Through Your Heart” on the album—with something more funky in its place—the novelty of the opener and this Reprise would have worked better. It would’ve been a little more fun. Kind of a cheeky way to sneak in his passion for the oldies while doing something intentionally “off” to play with the mood.

Definitely be poking around for some of his other albums. Could even see paying more than a dollar for them…

Here’s what a dork I am. A few years ago (way pre-turntable) I visited Dusty Groove and bought a ton of 45s outta their uber-cheap bin, just for the sleeves. I posted a slideshow of all of them on my design blog The Flavor, but here’s a couple of my faves.

 

 

 

 

This upcoming documentary on vinyl, by Jony Lyle looks entertaining. Interviews with record junkies, a lot of historical stuff—including a look at Reid Miles/Blue Note—and probably a lot of discussion of the mystical powers of vinyl.

Via Grain Edit.

Whoa. Not sure how I hadn’t heard about this place yet. Maybe because it feels like it’s in a different town—about as far south as you can go and still be in Chicago. 116th and South Western.

But worth the trip. It is a pretty damn big shop. It took me at least an hour to get through the 10 or so crates of $1 records ($1 each if you buy 10, otherwise $2 each.) By that point, I was sneezing like a m@therf#@ker because of the dust I’d kicked up. The place has been there since 1967, and has apparently only recently tried to straighten things out. But it’s still crammed, floor-to-ceiling vinyl (well, I guess there’s also that wall of 8-tracks and several other pockets of non-vinyl—laser discs anyone?)

Anyways, as I dug into the store proper, I found a few things I’d been looking for, and of course several I wasn’t. I was disappointed to not find any Oingo Boingo or Kraftwerk. But I had quite a stack and thought better of most of my 10 from the dollar bins. Also, the record player available to the customers helped me weed out a few others.

The organization of the store is a bit odd: “Groups,” “Jazz,” and “Male Vocal” were the only main areas. (What Tangerine Dream they had was in Jazz and Vangelis in Male Vocal.) It wasn’t until I asked that I came to a whole ’nother little back room with “Female Vocal,” “Big Band,” “Comedy,” “Sound Effects,” “Instructional,” and the biggest “Soundtracks” section I’ve yet encountered in a record store. In fact, I found a couple I’ve been wanting including “Escape from New York”—though it was an empty sleeve and they have to go fetch the disk from the warehouse for some reason.

My Instagram of the Soundtracks aisle:

beverly records south chicago

I never even touched the cheap row of “Overstock” nor any of the zillions of 45s. I left with eight records for $46. Most of their records are apparently $5, with one sealed album running $10, and one from the two-dollar-dollar-bin. And they’ll each be making their way up here soon.

If you’d told me a year ago how psyched I’d be about ELO I wouldn’t have believed it. My friend Sam turned me on to them by describing them as “prog pop”, which is quite apt. He recommended the 1977–82 era, so this is the first album I picked up.

electric light orchestra, ELO, time, Hold On Tight, Another Heart Breaks, Twilight, Yours Truly, 2095, Jeff Lynne

And man was it a good place to start. My initial reaction was that this is what the Beatles would sound like if they’d stayed together until 1981. Part of that comes from the drum sound which is like high-production-value Ringo. And the vocal harmonies and generally upbeat nature of their tunes. Especially Beatlesy is “21st Century Man”, which sports some amazing chord changes.

But I also have band-related Deja Vu that suggests both Oingo Boingo and Flaming Lips. Oingo Boingo particularly in the quality of Jeff Lynne’s voice, especially when strained. The third track, “Yours Truly, 2095″ is a good example. And the album as a whole, with its synthy space opera vibe could almost be mistaken for the Flaming Lips.

My favorite tracks are undoubtedly “Twilight” which is about being in love with a robot, and “Another Heart Breaks” which is essentially an instrumental, and is brilliant. The only song I recognized from the record is the next-to-last track, “Hold On Tight” (as in “to your dreams”). It’s odd—or telling—that it was the only hit on the record, since it kind of feels like the outlier, having the most basic, rhythm-and-blues-type feel.

Psyched on the above purchase, I picked up “Discovery” based on the 1979 release date and the amazing, artwork.

But the album has little of the adventure, intrigue and danger implied by the cover’s overwrought art-direction. The musical approach of the record kinda falls into two areas. First is disco, which on the first track, “Shine a Little Love,” is seamlessly incorporated into their sound, while still clearly being ELO. But on the opener of side 2, it’s just unapologetic disco. Most of the rest of the album is a kinda sappy/happy balladeering, which at its best, sounds like the Beatles (“Confusion,” “Need Her Love” and especially “The Diary of Horace Wimp”) and at its worst are just nice little songs (“Midnight Blue,” “Wishing,” and “On the Run”—though this last one has a great end section, with a fantastic mellow groove and melody.)

The one big exception though, is the one song I remembered as a hit, “Don’t Bring Me Down.” Unlike “Time”, the big single from this record is actually its highlight. The splashy Ringo-esque drum intro alone is great, but on the whole it’s such an infectious, bouncy, singalong song. (To that last point: I just did it for karaoke this weekend!)

There were a lot of reasons I finally bought a turntable, but these guys were one of the big ones. When my musical taste started drifting into spacey, synth-driven territory, I knew it was time to load up on Tangerine Dream. Vinyl seemed the way to do it: I imagined myself kicked-back on the 80s chrome and orange couch in my office and sketching logo designs while their res’ed-out melodies wafted around me in a warm vinyl haze.

And that’s exactly how it is at least once a week since I’m now stocked up with the following records:

 

1979. A good record. Starts out a little spooky and has some somewhat “conventional” (for TD) moments: some 70s-rock piano and acoustic guitar, a disco-y drum moment, some Beatles-esque tape loop thing, and some of Edgar Froese’s noodly soloing. But on the whole, it’s good solid TD. Like the Albers-y cover, too.

 

1975. This is an interesting one because it was recorded live. Though you’d never know it but for the crowd sounds at the beginning and end of the record. It sounds great, and there’s a semi-exotic thematic line running through the songs that make it hold together like a suite—or a soundtrack (more on that later…) Some of that theme/melody is played on guitar doubled-up with synth. The guitar comes back occasionally to meander around—I prefer less guitar on a TD record, but it works here. There’s also some heavy-on-the-toms drumming in at least one track that I really like.

I also love the type on the sleeve. Looks really cool even today. I kinda wanna rip it off and make a font. And the pic on the back makes me want to be Chris Franke.

 

1981. This album announces itself with the exact same “PRRROOOINNNNGGG!” that kicks off “Beat It.” I think this is my favorite TD record. I believe it’s solely keyboards and percussion—and some lady with an accent reciting country names. “Pilots of Purple Twilight” and “Network 23” are gems—the latter still sounds fresh to me. And I even like the track that sounds like the theme song to a boxing special—these guys invented that sound after all, long before the boxing specials co-opted it.

More awesome type on this one, too. Though the pic on this one doesn’t particularly make me want to be them. Although I love that at some point in time, a blouse and welding goggles was acceptable avant garde attire.

 

1981. And this one announces itself with the same BROOOOOOWWWWW that kicks off “Tom Sawyer.” On the whole, it’s pretty good, though Edgar Froese plays a lot of guitar on this one and gets a little noodly, fishing around a bit—and even goes for a few windmills here and there.

That being said, the only real dud here is a straightforward ballad type song that ends side two. It wants to be Pink Floyd, but doesn’t pull it off. Turns out that was the only track not written by the TD3.

The jacket and the music make me want to see the movie. I can’t decide if the fact that Willie Nelson acts in it diminishes or enhances the desire to see it.

 

1977. This one is appropriately creepy for what I assume is a horror flick. There’s a buzzy insect-like noise that grates a bit, but I bet it was “grate” in the movie. But most of the tunes are classic TD, with an extra dash of freakiness, and even an oddly funky moment at one point.

In a statement on the back, William Friedkin implies he woulda rather had them do “The Exorcist” which is a bit of a diss to Mr. Tubular Bells. It also says they never saw any of the film—just did all this based on Friedkin’s description. What a job: “Do whatever the hell you want. Just make it weird…”

 

1979. Besides being the best cover of the bunch, this might be the best Tangerine Dream album of the bunch, too—even though it ain’t one. He played everything, and the sleeve notes that only “analog and digital electronic instruments were used” though I’d swear there’s a regular ol’ guitar in there somewhere.

The intro track is great—uplifting with big strings. Overall the album is fairly upbeat, with a few moody moments. Maybe it’s just the cover art, but it seems like it’d be a great soundtrack to an early morning motorcycle ride through the country.

So, this is kinda what started it all. Not the music on these albums, but the sleeve designs. I’ve bought a lot of vinyl over the years just for the artwork. The turntable, and hence my new obsession with vinyl, simply came out of a desire to actually listen to some of this stuff. There’s a big slideshow of these at my design blog The Flavor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

optonica rp 4705 turntable 70s record player

Figure I might as well start with the real catalyst for this blog: the turntable.

For years, I’ve had a dozen or so records which I bought because of the graphics. When this visual-only collection started reaching critical mass, I decided I should probably be able to play these things if I was going to continue to acquire them.

I didn’t need a great deck. I just needed something to access the music on the vinyl I had framed on my wall. But, one foot into Saturday Audio Exchange and I knew I was doomed. I even brought my 5-year-old along, figuring he’d limit the amount of time I’d be able to spend. But he was surprisingly patient as I caved easily for this double-my-budget, Knight-Rider-lookin’ number. They outfitted it with an Ortofon (OM 5E) cartridge for me and I was on my way.

rp-4705 optonica, seventies turntable, record player

It works like a champ, and I’m very pleased with it. I was curious about its history, since I didn’t know the company. So I did a little research. I’ll post that here shortly.