Random Albums

I just watched an interview Dan Rather did with Huey Lewis. It was pretty enjoyable, and I learned a few things.

I knew several of the stories, while others were unfamiliar, such as how the famed sax musician Stan Getz wound up playing on the Small World album.

As we've moved through the pandemic pandemonium, social media has been awash in many chains. Give me five albums and with no explanation and tag five friends. That type of thing.

Albums have always been a part of my life, so I enjoy talking about them. As I've been trying to say lately, there's no right answer to this stuff. Besides, these are albums that mean something to me for one reason or another. They're not necessarily the best ever.

Oh, and I'm just going to throw a handful here, and I'm not tagging anyone. If you want to discuss, then proceed. Feel free to offer up ones that mean something to you in whatever comment section you so choose.

Obviously, we'll start here...

Sports, Huey Lewis and the News. Even if I were to give an explanation, would it be necessary? In short, it was my album. Nobody influenced it. It also changed me -- for better or for worse. Even now, I wear a T-shirt with the album cover on it from the 30th anniversary tour seven years ago. (Needless to say, each of their albums means a lot to me, so we'll go with Sports and not do a full breakdown of them all tonight)

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles. The album cover. The songs. Before I knew any better, this album was there. Is it The Lads' best album? No, probably not. But as Sports changed me, Sgt. Pepper changed everything. You can say whatever you want. I respect it. But, The Beach Boys made Pet Sounds. Paul McCartney said, "Oh, yeah?" Bingo. Everyone has been playing catch-up.

The Drum Battle -- Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich at JATP. This is one of a couple of sacred records in my collection. Yes. Record. If you left my father alone in the house, you ran the risk of him playing it. Loud. I can still hear it rattling the house windows while I was outside trying to be Terry Bradshaw. There's so much great jazz/swing here that it's insane. To that end...

The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert, Benny Goodman. Again, my father plays a role here. When he discovered that my sister had a stereo that could convert vinyl to cassette (it was the 80s, of course), he handed the project of recording it to me (my sister didn't mind). I painstakingly took that 1951 pressing and lovingly worked around every scratch to record it. Preserving that record was that important to the old man. I still have the album. And I have it on CD as well. And digital. He'd be amazed.

Revolver, The Beatles. I couldn't stop at just one album from the Fabs. Besides, there are no rules here. When their music finally hit CD in the late 80s, I found myself faced with which album to buy first. I was in a store called Lechmere in Poughkeepsie (circa 1988-89) and had finally gotten myself a CD player at home. It was time to pick a Beatles CD. Sgt. Pepper? Abbey Road? Nope. Revolver. Look at the track list. (PS, THIS is their best album)

The Globe Sessions, Sheryl Crow. There are certain albums that mean a ton to me. Right place. Right time. I knew of Sheryl Crow in the mid-90s and saw her open for the Eagles in 1994. I bought her records. Decent stuff for sure. The Globe Sessions still speaks to me. It's dark and moody and happy and a little bit of everything.

Glass Houses, Billy Joel. You either love him or hate him. Few tolerate him. After The Stranger, I became an even bigger fan with 52nd Street. But Glass Houses did it. One day I'd like meet someone in the bar at the Plaza Hotel, wearing a jacket and a tie. And "All for Leyna." Damn.

Sinatra at the Sands, Frank Sinatra. The height of cool. You might get whacked, but hey, that's Sinatra for ya, baby. Count Basie -- COUNT FRIGGIN' BASIE -- is his bandleader. Arranging and conducting is Quincy Jones, who Sinatra has nothing but praise for. The version of "I've Got You Under My Skin" is one of the most perfect live records I've heard.

Making Movies, Dire Straits. They had made their bones with "Sultans of Swing," which was certainly a different sound in the punk to disco scene of the late 70s. But, with this album, they hit the right notes for me. "Romeo and Juliet" is heartbreaking. "Les Boys" is awkward. "Skateaway" and "Tunnel of Love" are magnificent. Oh, did I say heartbreaking?

Songs for Only the Lonely, Frank Sinatra. "One For My Baby (And One More For the Road)" might be the greatest lonely guy closing down a bar song. While I've never been the guy closing the bar, I've sang it more than a few times. This album should have a warning label: never listen to it when feeling down. EVER.

Skylarking, XTC. They're a band that maybe you know. Maybe not. This is (for me) their masterpiece. Andy Partridge is a snarky git for sure, and he and Todd Rundgren (who produced it) were at odds the whole time. But (sorry those who are religious), "Dear God" (which got plenty of airplay on MTV) hit me in the gut at the right time (late '86) because in there was all of the angst that my 17 year-old brain had about such things. And it's never faded. Which is amazing, because they're also brilliant pop songsmiths, and "Dear God" is fairly dark.

OK Computer, Radiohead. A game-changer. Is that enough? An album that's named because of a line in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? This is the type of stuff that showed me that maybe I had some depth to what I listened to. It was peak-Tower Records (CD) shopping time, pre-American Idol. And...yeah...

News of the World, Queen. I wasn't on Queen early enough, but I still remember hearing "Bohemian Rhapsody" for the first time. Again, a game-changer. Later, I heard what we've all heard millions of times since. Boom-boom-CLAP! Boom-boom-CLAP! I was officially in. There are other albums theirs that I prefer, but this was the first I bought. It was, in fact, among the first LP's I ever bought.

I suppose that's enough for tonight. I gave you 13 -- in no particular order (except, I suppose, for the first two). Honestly, there was no rhyme of reason. I just grabbed these albums to see what I could write about them. God, I love writing about music.

I hate what music has done to me at times (longer story there, of course) but I love what it has done to me also. I wish I could explain why I change my feelings about certain things (much longer story there, since I really don't know why).

And, one night, I'll have to dive into the albums of 1989. God, the late-80s were tough musically, but music helped save my soul.

Alas, stories for another time.

Time for one more for the road.