Shakespeare wrote the title above, but Michael Moorcock wrote this: Then
the earth grew old, its landscapes mellowing and showing signs of age, its ways
becoming whimsical and strange in the manner of a man in his last years... And it does seem to be true that the career trajectory in all
of the arts follows that kind of a pattern; 'maturity' or success followed by a period of eccentricity or reinvention in the artists
‘autumnal phase’ (or one of its autumnal phases, as we shall see).
Age
need not be a factor; the eccentric period can come towards the end of a period of
collaboration (especially in the case of musicians) or work within a particular
style, as the outcome of a kind of creativity-fatigue. All great bands and
artists have made an album which breaks a cycle of straightforward good-ness;
often these albums are good in a different way, but almost always they are disappointing and thus judged more
harshly than their quality warrants: most famously perhaps, The
Beatles (‘The White Album’), which appeared not just at the end of an unparalleled period of inventiveness for the band but also at the end of the whole flower power phase fashion/culture-wise. It may or may not be a good album padded out with
lots of inconsequential fluff, but even if it is (it isn’t) it’s still better
than most albums by most bands. Aaanyway... The Beatles is my favourite Beatles album, and there's a t-shirt design that says You Can Only Trust Yourself And The First Six Black Sabbath Albums, but my favourite Black Sabbath album is the seventh one (okay, joint favourite), hence all this. And because it wasn’t already a flimsy enough thing to be writing about, I have separated two distinct strands, firstly....
The Last Fling...
A
band usually consists of a complicated set of relationships, and for most
successful bands, the decision to end their activities rarely usually comes one
or two albums after their artistic peak. That said, the decline and death
rattle of something great is infinitely better than the sound of talentlessness
in its prime, so it’s always worth checking out notoriously bad stuff by good
people, even though it often is bad...
These are good though:
Pixies
– Trompe le Monde (1991)
It
seemed like the Pixies forgot how to be the Pixies in 1990 with the release of
their third album Bossanova, which
jettisoned almost everything distinctive about their sound and
lyrical/aesthetic approach, while also being definitely still good. Trompe le Monde reinstated the screaming
and dissonant elements and a pinch of the lyrical sleaze while still being
somehow wrong and un-Pixies-like, an impression cemented by the solo career of
Black Francis (as Frank Black), which took Trompe
le Monde as its starting point, in terms of artwork as well as sound.
Having said all that, Trompe le Monde is,
in its noisy, chaotic way, the equal of Bossanova.
Some of the best songs, like ‘Letter from
Memphis’, ‘Motorway to Roswell’ and the cover of the Jesus & Mary Chain
classic ‘Head On’ have an emotional
quality different to that of their early work, but no less likeable for that.
Kiss
– Unmasked (1980)
Kiss
(or more properly, KISS) chickened out on ending their gimmick-laden early
image/lineup three times before finally making the leap with 1983’s Lick It Up. Of all the ‘chicken-era’
albums, only ‘82’s Creatures of the Night
(on which, significantly, the band admitted to at least one lineup change,
while clinging to their makeup) has anything approaching widespread critical
acclaim, while Music From “the Elder”
(1981) is at least often seen as a brave, but mainly flawed attempt at trying
something different. Unmasked, on the
other hand, is seen as the chicken-est of them all, a weaker follow-up to the
already commercial, compromised (but in fact great) Dynasty (1979). In fact, it’s a collection of mostly excellent
power-pop songs, kicking off with a perfect cover of Gerard McMahon’s sleazy ‘Is That You?’ and with Paul Stanley and Ace
Frehley writing some of their catchiest songs, highlights being Stanley’s cheesy
semi-ballad ‘Shandi’ and feelgood
anthem ‘Tomorrow’ and Frehley’s ‘Talk To Me’. Gene Simmons manages one good
song, ‘Naked City’, which he sings
instead of barking; it’s nice. It’s sad for fans that Peter Criss wasn’t present
(except on the cover), but on the other hand Anton Fig’s crisp, new wave-ish
drumming suits the material better than Criss’ more rock ‘n’ roll style would have anyway. Recommended if you like The Raspberries, Cheap Trick and of course
KISS.
The
Bay City Rollers – Strangers in the Wind (1978)
Teen
idols probably deserve more sympathy than one ever feels like giving them.
Having gone from successful local band to international phenomenon with the
recruiting of singer Les McKeown in 1974, Edinburgh’s Bay City Rollers had by ’78
taken over the creative direction of the band themselves, continued to have
chart success, played to vast audiences worldwide and been swindled out of lots
of money while still being pretty young. From the peak of their success in ’75 though,
old audiences were dying away as new ones were emerging and in 1978 the band
was in the extremely peculiar position of appearing in a TV show aimed at their
youngest fans while trying to make music that they as rock music fans in their
20s might actually want to listen to. Hence Strangers
in the Wind; surely one of the most wistfully dour teenybopper albums ever
made. Though theoretically very successful (not many British bands get a US TV
show), the songs (especially the elegiac, world-weary title track) seem to
emanate from the knowledge that fame is fleeting and empty and on those terms
it’s a pleasant and strangely comforting piece of work; by this time
Faulkner/Wood was a veteran writing partnership, and their material is easily
the equal of the well-chosen (but also miserable) covers included here. But
apparently the sourness of success wasn’t something the viewers of The Krofft Superstar Hour wanted to hear
about. And nor, to all appearances, did Arista Records, who gave the record one
of the worst sleeves ever to grace the work of a major artist. Bummer.
The Smiths - Strangeways, Here We Come (1987)
It's often been noted that post-The Queen Is Dead Johnny Marr was feeling constricted by the jangly, guitar-based 'indie rock' idiom that The Smiths had helped to define. That is borne out by the band's last album, which is (to me at least) easily the equal of its The Queen Is Dead, but is very different in its texture, with pianos, strings, horns and (best of all) autoharp setting the band aside from the torrent of wannabe-Smiths that flooded the 80s indie chart. To be fair, Morrissey's debut solo album Viva Hate is just as different, suggesting that he too was perhaps ready for a change, whether he wanted one or not.
The Smiths - Strangeways, Here We Come (1987)
It's often been noted that post-The Queen Is Dead Johnny Marr was feeling constricted by the jangly, guitar-based 'indie rock' idiom that The Smiths had helped to define. That is borne out by the band's last album, which is (to me at least) easily the equal of its The Queen Is Dead, but is very different in its texture, with pianos, strings, horns and (best of all) autoharp setting the band aside from the torrent of wannabe-Smiths that flooded the 80s indie chart. To be fair, Morrissey's debut solo album Viva Hate is just as different, suggesting that he too was perhaps ready for a change, whether he wanted one or not.
The
bands above were reaching the end of their definitive periods, but it’s only
natural that bands are sometimes reluctant to let their art die with dignity; and
in some cases a new beginning is called for. Sometimes these pay off (these
successes are not our concern here) and sometimes they don’t...
The Abortive New
Beginning
Girlschool – Running
Wild (1985)
By the mid-80s, the leading ladies of the NWOBHM had
already made some of the toughest, least ‘effeminate’ (in the sense people
usually mean it; it is of course completely effeminate in a good way) heavy
rock of the decade. The momentum couldn’t last however; by ’84 the most
exciting metal was coming from the US and, like most of their peers, Girlschool
turned their attention “stateside” and like half of their peers, they made the
mistake (from a commercial/critical point of view at least) of deciding to
Americanise their sound. To this end the band hired a new singer/keyboard
player, Jackie Bodimead, who made her only studio appearance on this album. On
the title track, Jackie sings “You haven’t seen the best of me yet”, but
posterity has begged to differ. To these ears, though, the sound of the
erstwhile tough & scruffy NWOBHM girls trying to be commercial and
USA/MTV-friendly is highly appealing, they did it with style and heart and
deserved to do better (it wasn’t even released in their own country, but it has
been now; finally).
The
Rollers – Elevator (1979)
It’s
those Edinburgh tearaways again, this time definitively turning their backs on
tartan trimmings and memories of Rollermania and attempting to live in the
post-punk now of the late 70s. To that end they not only overhauled their
wardrobe, but also hired a new singer/guitarist/songwriter in the shape of
Duncan Faure of hit (in South Africa) South African pop-rockers Rabbitt. Elevator is and was widely sneered at
for its attempts at seedy rock ‘n’ rollness (lyrical references to drugs,
transvestism etc etc) but it should be remembered that however wholesome their
music (at least their singles) may have been, the (Bay City) Rollers had spent
the previous five years or so touring the world as a band, with all that
entailed. Anyway; Elevator is in fact
a pretty good album, the band sound reinvigorated, the songs are catchy; but it
was just too late really.
The
Velvet Underground – Loaded (1970)
Extremely
uncoolly, Loaded is my favourite
Velvet Underground album. Before hearing it I had heard and liked their first
three (critically approved) albums, but the only reference I had come across to
Loaded was a dismissive mention in
either NME or Melody Maker which sneered at Doug Yule, who sings the nicer
songs on the album in a voice that sounds like a musical Lou Reed; it’s nice.
Therein lies the problem, presumably – Venus
In Furs, Heroin et all may be
great, but they aren’t nice; presumably in hiring a young guy who could sing
and writing more cheerful songs Lou Reed was hoping to revive the band’s
commercial fortunes. Didn’t work, but Who
Loves The Sun, I Found A Reason
and even Sweet Jane are very nice
indeed; great early 70s atmosphere, great songs, great album. Shame about the
Reed-less follow-up Squeeze though. I
wanted to like it.
Black
Sabbath – Headless Cross (1989)
The
first album with a new singer by an established group is usually awkward, but
can be (as with Sabbath’s own Heaven and
Hell) a triumphant rebirth. As fans will know, Headless Cross isn’t the first Black Sabbath album to feature
singer Tony Martin, but it should have been. Martin (for me the best non-Ozzy
singer BS ever had) had turned up to save the day with the okay-ish The Eternal Idol when the late Ray
Gillen’s vocals were found wanting, but that album, solid though it is, is a
slightly bland rock album with little of Martin’s personality and less of a
Black Sabbath feel than any of the band’s previous albums. Headless Cross was written for and with Tony Martin and, as well as
delivering some of his best ever performances (indeed, it’s hard to think of a
better hard rock performance than he gives on ‘Kill in the Spirit World’. Unfortunately, as far as the world was
concerned it was probably too late for Black Sabbath to regain their throne as
metal overlords. Not only had the metal world evolved so that the band sounded
a little tame and even old-fashioned, but the public had also, within the
previous few years, already welcomed the Ronnie James Dio Black Sabbath, gotten
excited and then let down by the Ian Gillan version (which however is quite fun
in its Spinal Tap way), been made curious by the never-appearing Ray Gillen
configuration and then been introduced to Tony Martin with an underwhelming and
not-really characteristic album. So when Headless
Cross, a strong collection of atmospheric, catchy and only occasionally
silly songs (albeit heralded by a cheap-looking video that made the band look
kind of foolish), who can blame the world for not being interested. And in the
years since then, the return (and sad passing) of Ronnie Dio naturally
overshadowed it. But it’s definitely good...
Postscript: A few honourable mentions/exceptions/etc...
It seems odd not to have included anything by David Bowie here, but where to begin or end? The stylistic changes in his work were so frequent and major that it's hard to say what 'normal' or even 'classic' Bowie is. The same is true of The Cure, but on the other hand, a band like AC/DC have weathered changes in fashion and taste and major upheavals like the death of a lead singer/founder member without ever significantly altering their style. The same, barring the tragic element, is true of Parliament-Funkadelic; George Clinton is far from a one-trick pony, and it's not like he doesn't experiment masterfully in different genres, it's just that he makes them all funky; and why not?
In some fields (metal and punk mainly) these kinds of evolutions are endemic; bands that start off extreme usually reach a point where they either become bored with the limitations of their style, or with the lack of its commercial possibilities.
Postscript: A few honourable mentions/exceptions/etc...
It seems odd not to have included anything by David Bowie here, but where to begin or end? The stylistic changes in his work were so frequent and major that it's hard to say what 'normal' or even 'classic' Bowie is. The same is true of The Cure, but on the other hand, a band like AC/DC have weathered changes in fashion and taste and major upheavals like the death of a lead singer/founder member without ever significantly altering their style. The same, barring the tragic element, is true of Parliament-Funkadelic; George Clinton is far from a one-trick pony, and it's not like he doesn't experiment masterfully in different genres, it's just that he makes them all funky; and why not?
In some fields (metal and punk mainly) these kinds of evolutions are endemic; bands that start off extreme usually reach a point where they either become bored with the limitations of their style, or with the lack of its commercial possibilities.
