Secret History: 1973

Like the Big Bang, the explosion of music in the sixties hurled huge chunks of brilliance through space.  As time went on, they were no longer the size of stars, but rather that of planets and asteroids.  The great music was there, just not in your face.  It was more spread out and harder to find. But it was there.  I swear.



But we were arguing about it more.  We didn’t all like the same things anymore.  Or rather, we were starting to dislike stuff, instead of just being indifferent to it.



And speaking of arguments, it's a bit embarrassing for me to write anything about the New York Dolls for a couple of reasons.  One is that I hated them on principle at the time.  I was a big Allman Brothers fan.  The Allmans weren't exactly fashion plates, which suited me fine, as I was of the belief that my music heroes, unlike the super-heroes in the comics (link) I loved, should not have uniforms or costumes.  Music was all.  Everything else was a distraction, especially a bunch of guys dressed as women.  David Bowie was a macho man in comparison, and I didn’t like him, either.



But now the other reason to be embarrassed about expressing an opinion about them is that I might overcompensate and go to the other extreme, in the urge to make up for past wrongs.  I don’t want to do that.  I’d look like an idiot.  And you know, that never happens.



But screw that.  I'm here to repent.  The first New York Dolls album is simply one of the greatest rock and roll albums ever.  It's loud, brash, noisy and yes, trashy.  In other words, it’s everything rock ‘n roll should be.  It took a couple of years for me to really take it in.  At first listen, it's just a lot of clatter.  But when you find yourself loving the fourth song on side two, you know you've got a record that goes deep.



John Prine may have been overcompensating, too.  On his third album, “Sweet Revenge”, he moves away from the stripped-down-to-practically-nothing sound of “Diamonds in the Rough”, gracefully avoiding “pretty”, and ends up with what might be his best record.  Funny, rocking and sometimes beautiful.



I always found that reggae sounded best when it was hot as hell outside and you were sitting by some water, getting high.  Since my house doesn’t face a body of water, and my kids have no interest in seeing me high (I think it would ruin it for them), I don’t get much opportunity to experience this optimal setting.  That’s where the soundtrack to The Harder They Come comes in.  It’s a perfect introduction to reggae, and if you’re lucky like me, you’ll get the anniversary edition which contains a bonus disc of other hits from Jamaica (“I Can See Clearly Now”, “The Israelite”) at the time.





Countdown To EcstasyThere were no big AM hits on “Countdown to Ecstasy”, Steely Dan’s second album, (unless you count “My Old School” or “Show Biz Kids”).  But, in a lot of ways, it’s the quintessential SD album.  Fans love “Razor Boy”, “The Boston Rag”, and “Boddissatva”.  The guitars are working overtime here.  And not too jazzy.  Yet.







AquashowElliot Murphy made one of the all-time “Records That Annoyed Jaybee's Brother” with “Aquashow”, and I still can’t figure out why.  We've got the guitars and organs to give you that “Blonde on Blonde” feel.  The subject is a bit more Velvet Underground, though.  Okay, Elliot doesn't have the greatest voice, kind of a high pitched whine actually, but everything else coalesces into a great rock and roll record.



Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J.And then there’s Bruce.  The Boss.  Whose “Greetings from Asbury Park” kinda gets lost amongst his other records.  I can still recite every word to “Blinded by the Light”. (His is still the best version. The Hold Steady were probably conceived while this song was playing), “For You” and “It’s Hard to be a Saint in the City”, especially the wordy bridges.  I know you love “Spirit in the Night” and “Growing Up”.  But I love “The Angel” and “Does This Bus Stop on 82nd Street?”  Maybe my second favorite Springsteen album.



O Lucky Man! (LP Version)Back when weird movies were just beginning to entice me to into the city, “Oh, Lucky Man!” had the added attraction of the having the band playing not only on the soundtrack but right in the middle of the action.  Alan Price used to be in the Animals, playing that great organ on “House of the Rising Sun”.  (You can also catch him hanging with Bob Dylan in “Don't Look Back”.  How cool is that?)  Here he gives a slightly skimpy eight songs to this strange film, but they're all winners.



Valley Hi/Some Days You Eat the Bear and Some Days the Bear Eats YouThere are a number of attractions on “Valley Hi” by Ian Matthews.  One is his covers of early Jackson Browne, Richard Thompson and Mike Nesmith songs.  The other is his pretty voice.  He also does the version of “Seven Bridges Road” that the Eagles stole for their totally useless live album.  But anyway, this is pretty as heck.







BlondelIf you can handle Valley Hi, you’re ready for “Blondel” by the Amazing Blondel.  But be warned, the inside cover shows a guy sitting in his bare feet.  It’s that kind of record, and a prime example of mid-seventies English folk music with a pop gloss.  Depending on your point of view, this is either a beautiful masterpiece, as I thought at the time, or something that should come with a warning label for diabetics.  I’m betting you’ll like it.



ByrdsThe Byrds briefly reunited for an eponymous and much maligned album.  It does suffer in comparison to their earlier albums.  For some weird reason they do two Neil Young songs - one a great version of “See the Sky About to Rain”.  Chris Hillman and Gene Clark add the melody.  Roger must have needed the cash.  Not bad.  Really.







Journey's End/I'll Be ThereMatthew Fisher is the guy who wrote the organ melody on “A Whiter Shade of Pale”, and it took him over forty years to get the royalties for it.  And he spends most of “Journey's End” - his first solo record – feeling sorry for himself about it.  He's got the whiny voice to match, too.  But he writes nice melodies so it all goes down nicely.  It was truly made for sensitive sixteen year old boys like me, who hung our in out rooms listening to music like this, instead of going out and having a good time.





And maybe that was the problem.  When I look at 1973, I see a lot of music suited for isolation, and not much for community.  What did we agree on?  Maybe “Innervisions”, but not much else. 

And that lame metaphor I started with?  All I can say is that it’s easy to see the stars at night.  But you need a telescope for the other stuff.

Secret History: 1968

Ahh, the Summer of Love ('67, in case you missed it) has by now ushered in the Age of Aquarius, and at the beginning of 1968, it's clear that everything is going to be just great. (No wonder I prefer music to real life.)

Let's start off with a couple of records that were really released in late 1967, but didn't make their mark until 1968:

First, there's Bob Dylan's "John Wesley Harding". I was going to ignore Dylan, but I really like this record. Now if he would only take harmonica lessons and I could forget Hendrix's version of "All Along the Watchtower", I'd say it was love.

And then there's The Who Sell Out, which is just my all time favorite album. Now when you buy it, you're going to listen to it once and say, what the hell? Will you please put it on again? And again? At some point, you're going to realize that the Tommy references are pre-Tommy references, the commercials are hilarious, and the ballads are as beautiful as any Pete Townsend ever wrote. And who doesn't like Heinz baked beans?

The Byrds kept pretty busy. When they weren't busy killing each other, they were making their two best albums. First, there's "The Notorious Byrd Brothers", which is an artful suite of tunes, the most famous of which – but not the best, mind you - may be Carole King's "Going Back". Then there's "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" which takes on country music, with great enthusiasm and respect, thanks to Gram Parsons. This is truly one of the highlights of the decade. Greatest American Band of the Sixties, you say? Hard to argue with you, sir.

And although I'll admit that "Moondance" has more soul, Van Morrison's
"Astral Weeks" is (warning: bs phrase approaching) full of jazzy poetic mystery.
It is also where
I first wondered
if Van was out of his mind. At first I was taken aback by all the growling, scatting and general weirdness. But it's clearly Van at his most hypnotic.

The Zombies scored early in the decade with a couple of great singles ("She's Not There" and "Tell Her No"), but then struggled for years for a follow up hit. "Odyssey and Oracle" was their last shot, but it came a little too late. "Time of the Season", didn't become a hit until 1970, two years after they called it quits. They deserved better, because this is a wonderful record. "Care of Cell #44" is brilliant, and a couple of others ("Hung Up on a Dream", "Brief Candles") are as good as anything else the sixties served up.

The Kinks could always be counted upon to create a brilliant side of music every year or so. And side one of "Village Green Preservation Society" is
one of their best ever. Side two was always their Achilles heel, and here they do wander off a bit to the village green. But that's the Kinks for you. But definitely worthwhile nonetheless.

And if you're as sick of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" as I am, you might want to try "Bookends" by Simon and Garfunkel. Besides "Mrs. Robinson", it's got "Fakin' It" and "America". Not too shabby, although I still maintain that Art Garfunkel is the luckiest man alive. At least Ringo can drum.

Spirit boasted
great
musicianship and excellent songwriting, if not the most electrifying singing. Maybe that's why their first record went by the wayside. They would later become more famous for "I Got a Line On You" and "Nature's Way", but this record is very fine. Check out the acoustic guitar of "Taurus", which Led Zeppelin "borrowed" for "Stairway to Heaven".


 
The Weirdness:

While the Beatles were telling us that All You Need Is Love, some people were having none of it. Frank Zappa being one of them, he felt the need to make his own heartwarming philosophical statement – "We're Only In it for the Money". Now I always found Frank to be a bit overrated. I always felt like I was supposed to like his stuff. Well, any record that calls out both the cops and the hippies appeals to the misanthrope (curmudgeon?) in me, and this is one record for which I'm happy to make the effort.

Back when Peter Rowan and David Grisman were hippies, they formed Earth Opera, whose first record sounded dated before they finished recording it. Slow, weird, and with weak singing. But there are tunes here. I think.


 
In sum, people were so inspired by all this great music that 1968 will always be remembered for its racial brotherhood, a curious dearth of assassinations, and peace in Vietnam.

Secret History: 1967

 
Well, this is the year when all that is good supposedly happened. Sgt. Pepper, Monterey Pop, Summer of Love, etc. I'll admit it: Sgt. Pepper is a very good album, but hardly my favorite. The Stones "Between the Buttons" is lighter and poppier than "Aftermath", and thus a bit less brilliant. Buffalo Springfield's second album, "Again" has several classics on it. You can even it pick it up in the cutout bin, if you don't feel like springing for the "Box Set". (That Neil Young's got quite the racket going for him, doesn't he?)

But you already know all that.

Cream's "Disreali Gears"? Eh. I'm just as likely to listen to "More of the Monkees", but more on that later.

The Moody Blues – "Days of Future Past"? Well, I guess this one's our fault. We all liked it a lot, and well, they just kept at it for years afterwards. It's not a bad record at all, just too many strings. (This was back when some people's idea of art was a classical music orchestra.) Do we really need to hear "Nights in White Satin" (Which at first I thought was Knights. Picture that why don't you?) again? Ah, but "Tuesday Afternoon"! That one'll always work on me.

As unfair as this sounds, I can't quite suppress a yawn. Not over the quality, mind you. It's just that we've all been over this already. So let's go deeper.


 
If ever there was a record that defines a cultural divide, it's "The Velvet Underground and Nico".  Yeah, I know Nico sounds a bit odd, and I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't love the more experimental at the end, but if you don't like what precedes it, please stop reading now. One of the greats. If you've ever wondered why people thought Lou Reed was a genius, start here.

If you were lucky, you could catch "You Set the Scene" on Saturday afternoons on FM radio. If you're luckier still you bought "Forever Changes". Love was
one of the first interracial rock groups, and is sometimes thought of as the West Coast Velvet Underground. That's because beneath the beautiful melodies and soaring strings, you get lyrics about the dark underside of the Summer of Love. But beautiful nonetheless.

Roger McGuinn is holding back a bit on The Byrds "Younger Than Yesterday", which is why I like "Fifth Dimension" a little better. And David Crosby contributes the hilariously bad "Mind Gardens", but he redeems himself with "Everybody's Been Burned", one of his best songs. Chris Hillman fills in the gap with several catchy tunes. It's not quite their best, but still damned good.

My copy of Jefferson Airplane's "Surrealistic Pillow" is on heavily scratched vinyl. But it's lighter on its feet than either "Volunteers" or "Bathing at Baxters". This might seem tame for a record that came out at the beginning of the psychedelic era, but it's tuneful and a delight.

With Moby Grape, it's more scratched vinyl. (I wish people would take better care of their records before giving them to me.) And yet the energy of this record is still shines through. I love the guitar riff that starts it all off, setting the mood immediately. The singing is great and songwriting isn't far behind. A tinge of country, but definitely rock. The classics are "Hey Grandma", "Indifference" and "Omaha", one of the most joyous rock and roll songs ever. "Listen my friends!..."

The Kinks "Something Else" is the kinkiest Kinks record ever, and almost as good as "Face to Face". Side one is a hard look at everyday English working class life. ("David Watts" is one of the best songs about class ever.) Side two is the Kinks at their strangest, with "Waterloo Sunset" as the finale.

Procol Harum's first album, "A Whiter Shade of Pale",
with
the title hit, the original "Conquistador" and a bunch of other excellent songs, may be their best. My vinyl copy is kind of woozy. The guy who punched the whole in the center must have been drunk that day. And because the sound quality on vinyl is poor, Robin Trower's guitar sometimes sounds like a kazoo. Hey, not your fault, man.

The obvious Jimi Hendrix album to own is "Are You Experienced?". Even if you're tired of the hits, the non-hits and the CD bonus tracks keep you coming back. But how about "Axis Bold As Love"? It doesn't burn as brilliantly, but it gives off a nice quiet glow. A great evening album.

Poor Richie Havens. Even in the sixties, they made you dress up for album photos.
Clearly taken prior to Woodstock, the cover shot of "Mixed Bag" shows him sporting
thick
glasses, a blazer and dress pants. He looks like he's attending private school. This is the record that provides the title for a very annoying radio program, but the record itself is very pretty and worthwhile.

And speaking of 60's folk, don't forget Nico's "Chelsea Girls", where you get a little bit of sixteen-year-old-Jackson-Browne-sensitivity, a Bob Dylan song where the singer actually hits the notes, Tim Hardin and the Velvet Underground all in one place. Quite the bargain I'd say.  But don't ask me.  Ask my wife, who, after a couple of plays, said "I can't believe how good this is."  (Hey, what that's supposed to mean, anyway?  Okay, I admit that I may have, on occasion, put her through some...questionable music.)



You won't hear these songs when your local radio station does a Top 1000 Songs of All Time holiday weekend special. But I'll bet you're so tired of the songs they do play that you won't be feeling nostalgic anyway. The records I mention above will remind you that there was more in the 1967 universe than our short term cultural memory can now imagine.

Secret History: 1966

1966 is one of my favorite years in music, not just because I got my first album "Revolver" then, but because it's a year where the quality is still higher than the musicians themselves.

The music has a light touch. Psychedelia hasn't yet kicked in, the guitars aren't too distorted, the musicianship and songwriting is improving, the songs are still short and to the point. In other words, it's right before things started getting pretentious.

You already know about what the Beatles and Dylan were doing that year. And I'll save the Stones for a separate post. But until Allmusic.com comes up with a "We Love 1966" post, you'll have to settle for my take on that year. So, in order of my preference, here's a few records worthy of your time and attention:

• First, there's the Kink's greatest record "Face to Face". Here's my post on that criminally neglected era. Nuff said.
• Then, there's the Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds", which I finally picked up in 1990. I have to admit being underwhelmed at first, especially with it popping up on all these all time greatest albums lists. I still think it's a bit overrated, but it's certainly a very worthy record. Brian Wilson with his heart on his sleeve.
  
• And don't' forget the Byrds. Their third album, "Fifth Dimension" starts off with the title track – one of my all time favorite songs – and stays great until more than halfway through, up to “Eight Miles High”, after which  they do a lame version of "Hey Joe", a song that seems to trip up everyone except Jimi Hendrix. It's also followed by some filler, but the rest of it is brilliant, and well worth your while.
  
• Then there's the Who, who are already getting a bit arty on "A Quick One". I also went on about them, too. Although the songwriting it divided pretty evenly, everybody comes up with good tunes. And the title tune - our first mini rock opera (awwww!) - is just wonderful. Sweet and funny all at once.
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  And don't forget "John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, With (a Pre Cream/post Yardbirds) Eric Clapton". Here, Slowhand has not yet turned into Slowhead. In fact, he's as sharp as a tack. Too bad about the singing, though. Not perfect, but pretty fine.
  
  And… well, I don't know

I'm sure I'm forgetting someone. (What do you want, I was nine years old.) So please remind me, or berate me for any obvious omissions.

The Secret History Project

The Secret History Project is my attempt to make sense of the divide between music that was popular and music that, in my opinion, should have been popular.


The Reasons:

Why? Well, to answer the eternal question - where or where did I go wrong? (Or, since it's my blog, where did you go wrong?) In other words, where did we part ways? How did I get from there to here? Where is "there", anyway? Graduation from college? High school?? Grammar school??? (the birth canal?)

I also want to figure out if this divide had to happen. Was it predetermined by taste? Or would we all have loved the same music given the opportunity? In my heart, I'd like to think so, even though my brain says otherwise.

My official, altruistic reason, as always, is to expose you to music you might have missed along the way.

My less than noble reason is that I'm trying to be cool.

But seriously, I always loved music. You did too, but you had a life. So now I'm giving you the opportunity to have your cake and eat it too. You'll have a life and know about cool music too. And then we can go back to where we were when we were kids – you being cool and me being pathetic. You know, the way it was meant to be.

But it's worth doing, because my mission is to bring you joy through music. And since I can't do this by actually playing it, I'll do the next best thing – spreading the word about it. Kind of like John the Baptist (another JB, mmmm…) except with music. And so far, no one's asked for my head on a platter. Empty calories, no doubt.



The Rules:

First, pop music only. You may not be a fan of Classical music or jazz (or country or world, etc.). I 'm trying to find things that you don't have to appreciate before you love.

Second, it's got to be music that came out in my lifetime.

Third, it's got to be less than obvious, since the point is to find things you don't know about already. Feel free to return the favor. Tell me what you've found along the byways of pop music.


The Method:

I'll be looking at records by the year they were released. In other words, not by when I may have actually experienced them, which in some cases was decades later. This will give you an opportunity to say, hey what took you so long, anyway?

This may not be exactly how we experienced it, but it's just plain more orderly. It's also a way to think about what we were doing at the time.

So - flawed thrice-over – this approach puts us up against the limits of my record collection, my taste, and my revisionist history.


1957 - 1965:

So I started with 1957, and, after excluding Broadway and Movie soundtracks, I found some oldies. Not a huge fan. You should really start your own blog to convince to me it's great. I supposed I could point you to Elvis's "Sun Sessions", but I think I'll save that for another post.

And it stays that way, more or less, until 1964 when we hit the British Invasion. For that, I recommend watching PBS during pledge week. Just saying…

And 1965 at first seems like more of the same. (I'm saving middle-period Beatles for another post.)

One exception is "The Who Sing My Generation", but I dealt with that before.

I guess, the Byrds should count here, but despite some great songs, I find "Mr. Tambourine Man" a bit overrated, going a bit soft here and there. (Will someone please do a hard rock version of "Spanish Harlem Incident"?) Good, but not peak Byrds.

So it isn't until 1966 where I start to find the real hidden treasures, which I'll start to deal with next time.

Neil Young’s Blue Period, or Why “Tonight’s the Night” is Better Than “Harvest”

I ran into a friend in late 1978, a short time after Neil Young released “Comes a Time”, and we both agreed that it was great that Neil had finally come out with another pretty record. It had been a long time since “Harvest”, and we just didn’t get that other stuff he was doing for a while… I guess I’ve changed my mind since then.

Don’t get me wrong. I like pretty. I’ll even tolerate pretty but dumb, but not pretty and offensively dumb. This is not a philosophical quibble. Who wants to be around the perkiest person in the room? After a while, you want to punch them in the face. The miserable bastard, however, is great to be around when he’s in a good mood. That‘s why my favorite pretty Neil Young record is, well, “Comes a Time”, but later for that.

Neil went from being an FM darling to a hit maker (only one, really – “Heart of Gold”) to an FM darling that everyone was hoping would produce another hit. His fans were extraordinarily patient, and he used to drive them crazy at concerts by playing whatever the hell he felt like – usually brand new or unreleased stuff - to the exclusion of what people may have come to hear.

But are we talking about his CSNY songs? Not really. Buffalo Springfield? As great as they were, most of his fans by now thought that they were the band that Paul McCartney was in before Wings. So that left his solo stuff. His first record was good but the only one people remembered from it was “The Loner”. “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere” was sharper, and came out when long guitar solos were still big. It didn’t hurt that the songs were really good. They get even better on “After the Goldrush”. And even though there’s less guitar, it’s still clear as a bell and very, very soulful, even in the quiet parts.

Obviously “Harvest” was very popular, but I wonder how many people loved it. It’s certainly got some good songs (“Old Man”, “Needle and the Damage Done” and “Harvest”) but the rest of it is kind of bland. I just hear a lot of pedal steel, or worse, orchestras. When it wasn’t serious, it was awfully mellow. Okay, that’s enough to make a lot of people happy, and it was such a hit that it would give him the momentum to go off the beaten path for a while without suffering too much commercially.

Without going into the exact order of events, let’s say that life pointed Neil Young the artist towards a darker side, which he explored over several records with no hits on them. People kept buying them because Neil was the Great White Hope before people knew they were looking for one. (What were they going to do, buy Steven Stills records?) Then Springsteen came along, and Neil was off the hook.

But here’s a reminder of what he accomplished while he was off the beaten path:



Time Fades Away

Time Fades Away
A live album of all new material, it’s not quite a great album, but it is quite good. It’s also the first clear indication that Neil was turning his back on slickness. He’s also keeping a firmer grip on rock and roll, which, frankly, was becoming more problematic for those who preferred CSN to Y. By now, Danny Whitten, the guitarist from Crazy Horse, is dead, so Neil uses Ben Keith on pedal steel. But this time around, instead of sentimentality, it conveys chaos and desperation.



 Tonight's the Night

Tonight’s the Night
A dark night of the soul, and not a good place to be for very long, but it’s his best record. “New Mama” is as beautiful as anything he’s ever done. “Albequerque” sums up his take on stardom. “Roll Another Number” disposes of Woodstock in the space of a verse. “Tired Eyes” is the climax, and Neil’s rarely done a record as soulful, even if he and the band don’t hit all the right notes. “Mellow My Mind” is the dark heart of the record. “World on a String” is so primal that it’s hard to believe it was done in the Have a Nice Day Seventies. (Neil wasn’t the only one exploring this territory, though. There’s also Sly Stone’s “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” and Big Star’s “Third”. Don’t listen to these records all at the same time.) It’s understandable why a lot of people didn’t like Tonight’s the Night when it came out. It definitely wasn’t pretty. Not lazy, either – drunk yes, but lazy no. And in 1975, when most of us were moving away from rock and roll, this record lands squarely in it.






On the Beach

On the Beach
A strange experiment. Nothing here is quite right. A fairly straightforward rocker, like “Walk On” gets a little goose from a slide guitar. “See the Sky About to Rain”, done better both by the Byrds, and Neil himself on solo piano on a very powerful bootlegged live version, is kind of anesthetized here. The rest of side one is not bad. It’s kind of funny, weird and topical. But it’s really side two that gives off the eerie glow. “On the Beach” and “Motion Pictures” are slow, quiet and hypnotic, if you give them a chance. “Ambulance Blues”, on the other hand, doesn’t care if you like it or not, and it’s one of his greatest songs. It’s late night music. Actually recorded after, but released before “Tonight’s the Night”, it’s like the hangover after a particularly nasty binge.

Zuma

Zuma:
Most of his demon’s exorcized (but not the misogynist one), Neil reforms Crazy Horse and plays it straight, for him, anyway. I prefer “Danger Bird” to “Cortez the Killer”, which is saying something. “Barstool Blues”, “Pardon My Heart”, “Lookin’ for a Love” and “Through My Sails” are all great. As loud as it can sometimes get, it still strikes me as one of his calmest records. Was Neil in rehab? I doubt it.





 American Stars 'N Bars (Reissue)

American Stars and Bars:
Neil seems to be gathering strength here. Half a new album (“Hey Babe”) and half bits and pieces lying around “Like a Hurricane”, “Star of Bethlehem”. Only with Neil will the bits and pieces be better. The other gems are “Bite the Bullet” and the great , strange “Will to Love”.



 Decade

Decade:
This is one of the few triple disc sets that I could listen to all the way through. (I think it fits on two CDs though). It skimps a bit on the dark side, but makes up for it with the previously unreleased stuff (“Deep Forbidden Lake”, “Winterlong”, “Campaigner”). Plus it’s got almost all of his best songs from Buffalo Springfield.



 Comes A Time

Comes a Time:
The cover shows a smiling, older and wiser-looking Neil. You know by now that he’s been through hell, so the simple melodic beauty is breathtaking. It’s as though he’s saying You want pretty? I’ll give you pretty. I’m better at it than anyone else! And he’s right.


So it’s a happy ending, if you see “Rust Never Sleeps” as a vindication, which it is. And although the rest of his career is uneven to say the least, it's also very interesting. But we probably agree on that. My point is that you may not appreciate the above records, even though you probably own a lot of them already. So go down to the basement and get them out! I think you’ll find they are like antique furniture that may have not looked as pretty as new furniture at the time. But a lot of that other stuff is looking awfully tacky now, whereas Neil's has stood the test of time.