Love - Forever Changes (1967)

Steve: 

Love's third album has been acknowledged as a "cult classic" for almost as long as it's been out. Being labeled as a cult classic implies that lots of people like it, but not nearly enough people to qualify it as popular in the Byrds or Doors sense. The Byrds and Doors, of course are two other bands from LA in the mid-to-late 60s who also released ambitious music, but who DID become household names.  

Love's relative lack of commercial success may have been due to the instability of the band. Leader Arthur Lee dominated the singing, songwriting, and overall direction, while the band's other members were less dependable. In fact, one song on Forever Changes ("The Daily Planet") was recorded with session musicians after the band couldn't get it together in the studio. The band would break up after this album, and Lee would resurface the following year with a new Love lineup. Another factor in their lack of success was their reluctance to travel to promote their music beyond the LA area. They simply didn't generate enough buzz to strike while the iron was hot.

As with much of my early rock education, I read about this album for years before actually hearing it. The Rolling Stone Record Guide gave it 5 stars and praised it enthusiastically without really giving me a sense of what it sounded like. Because it came out in 1967 in California and wasn't Frank Zappa or Spirit, I imagined it to be a somewhat dated variation on hippie idealism, nice as a period piece but not a timeless classic. (Yes, I was iconoclastic and cynical back then. I'm more tolerant now). I viewed it as a typical example of albums that critics raved about mainly because it was an established critic favorite, and no one seemed bold enough to take a contrary point of view. 

Turns out I was wrong.

Eventually, in the mid 90s, I decided to take a chance on Love Story, a double CD anthology of the band on the Rhino label. I already had a high opinion of Rhino's thoughtful reissues/anthologies, so that was a big factor in my decision. I was glad to learn that Love Story included the entire Forever Changes album, in correct running order. I'd finally have that album, and if any of the other material was good, that would just be gravy (turns out I liked the extra material just as much, if not more).

I had heard the leadoff track "Alone Again Or" before, but in a version recorded by The Damned that benefited from that band's dark glammy/goth drama. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised by Love's original version. It begins and is punctuated throughout with quiet solo acoustic guitar sections that give way to verses in a near-flamenco acoustic style with orchestral backing and a totally rapturous trumpet solo. There is no chorus in the song to provide resolution, leaving the acoustic punctuations to provide the melancholy reflection between the resigned loneliness of the verses. It's deservedly one of the band's most loved songs, and the kicker is that it was written by the distant-second songwriter in the band, Bryan MacLean. It's as if a Kinks album led off with a Dave Davies composition and it became their best-known song. Kinks leader Ray Davies would never let that happen. But Arthur Lee surely saw how strong this track was, and it's to his credit that he gave it the high-profile opening slot it deserved. It sets the tone musically, but its relatively fluffy lyrics ("I could be in love with almost everyone / I think that people are the greatest fun") don't prepare you for what follows.  

"A House is Not a Motel" also begins with an acoustic guitar figure (all the songs are basically acoustic guitar-driven) but the lyrics sung by Arthur Lee are shockingly dark, and the song's briskly quiet pace exudes an air of unease. After a particularly vivid reference to what blood looks like when it's mixed with mud, the song takes one of the album's louder detours with an electric guitar outro. This queasy tension is typical of many songs on the album: "The Red Telephone", "Live and Let Live" (most reviews call out the "snot has caked against my pants" lyric, but even more poignant to me is "served my time / served it well / made my soul a cell"), "The Daily Planet", and even the seemingly benign "The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This" all juxtapose melodic acoustic (often orchestrated) folk rock music against unexpected musical shifts and surreal, sometimes doom-laden images. Lee's high reedy voice calmly relays the confusion from a distance, his smooth delivery partly concealing his anger and frustration at a world spinning out of control. 

Granted, not all of this is obvious on first listen. The relative mellowness of the album hides much of this underlying tension. Songs like "Andmoreagain," "Old Man" (Bryan MacLean's other contribution to the album), and the Herb Alpert-isms of the verbose "Maybe the People Would be the Times or Between Clark and Hilldale" all have sweet melodies and lyrics that are a bit more obtuse and subtle.  

Like most great albums, Forever Changes finishes strongly with a climax that ties it all together. "You Set the Scene" is actually two songs stitched together in one, a cathartic conclusion clocking in at just under 7 minutes (the longest on the album). The first part consists of more paranoid observations ("There are people wearing frowns who'll screw you up / But they would rather screw you down") over rapid minor key arpeggios and a nervous drum shuffle. After two verse/chorus cycles, the song transitions into a slower march tempo in a major mode, signifying a shift in perspective. The next words out of Arthur's mouth really stand out: "This is the time and life that I am living / and I'll face each day with a smile / because the time that I've been given's such a little while." The 60s were a tumultuous time, and the preceding songs on the album are a reflection of that. But Arthur resolves to just keep on, because that's all there is to do. Even the observation that "all that lives is gonna die" is not a pronouncement of doom, but rather a sober realization of reality. This newfound resolve is accompanied by a triumphant musical arrangement that may just put a lump in your throat. It fades out on this bittersweet note.

As should be obvious, I get a lot of emotional mileage out of this album. It's unlike many classic 60s albums in that it neither tries to escape reality nor does it condemn it. Forever Changes regards reality with a subdued sense of horror, then ultimately accepts it, even disarming it by showing the strength to handle adversity. That's inspiring.

Dan: 

Neither Love nor Forever Changes were on my radar during the 1960s. Perhaps the field was too crowded by other bands in those exciting times. Even 20 years after its recording, I only heard about it from a friend and saw its iconic cover in music catalogs. Then one day Steve shared the Love Story CDs with me. So I ripped the tracks that comprise Forever Changes and played it frequently. I got totally hooked for many of the reasons Steve details in his review. In particular, my favorite tracks are "Maybe the People..." and "You Set the Scene," but the whole album is expertly programmed and played. I can't think of any other albums like it, not even Love's other albums which I could sample on the compilation CDs. 

Perhaps the only thing that comes close to matching the power of Forever Changes is the concert that Arthur Lee performed at the Royal Albert Hall in January of 2003, captured on video on The Forever Changes Concert. The live string and brass sections are something to behold, and the original album is given a faithful homage.

For me, a survivor of the 1960s, Forever Changes recaptures the spirit of Black awareness and hippie idealism. Even when the lyrics get uncomfortably "fluffy," it's impossible to miss the ironies. When Lee refers to his town "where everyone is painted brown / and if we feel that's not the way, let's go paint everybody gray," his humorous resolve lifts us out of the gloom of a serious topic. It's one of many delights on this superb album.