Steve Winwood - Arc of a Diver (1980)

Dan:

Arc of a Diver has an interesting story behind it. Secluding himself at his farm in Gloucestershire UK, Steve Winwood tasked himself with all of the duties necessary to complete an entire album. His private Netherturkdonic Studios provided the technical capability to engineer this project, on which he wrote or co-wrote all the music, sang, played all the instruments, and of course produced it himself. In anyone else's hands, one might expect a hermetic, self-indulgent product that only the composer could like, and few listeners would understand (or buy).

But Winwood is not your typical self-absorbed artist. Arc became a chartbuster, especially in the US where it was certified platinum with over a million units sold. The title track and "While You See a Chance" became hit singles that almost everyone would recognize even today. 

Consider the sequence of songs. The two biggest hits come first. But the magic continues on side 1 of the LP with "Second-Hand Woman" and "Slowdown Sundown." Those are great songs illustrating the range of Winwood's talents and execution. Side 2 offers up three longer songs: the lovely "Spanish Dancer," "Night Train," and "Dust," with its final solemn lines to close the album. To me Arc is 40 minutes of sheer enjoyment that I can listen to any day, any time. 

The most churlish criticism I've read considers Arc of a Diver to be too accessible and too much like pop music. I disagree on the grounds that the entire album is at such a high level, track for track, and that's a rarity to be celebrated rather than criticized. The other critique is the preponderance of synthesizers, but it's not really as synthesized as many later efforts. A Prophet 5, Minimoog, and Yamaha CS-80 do not comprise an arsenal of artificial sound, especially when balanced by a Stratocaster, Ibanez mandolin, Ovation acoustic guitar, piano and Hammond B3 organ. The fact that Winwood can play all of these axes and sound like an actual band should discourage skepticism over the music's origins. 

Steve:

Winwood had long since proven himself as an expert music-maker, capable not only of writing and singing material that was both popular and had staying power through the years, but also of having the instrumental and production ability to be a true one-man band. John Barleycorn Must Die, the unexpected return of Traffic following a hiatus, was a Winwood solo album in all but name, for example. Winwood's first self-titled solo album (co-written with his old Traffic-mate Jim Capaldi and recorded with session musicians) failed to inspire much interest from the buying public. His 1980 money-shot Arc of a Diver seems in retrospect to be a concerted effort on his part to take matters into his own hands and make the blockbuster he knew he was capable of. 

As a young child in 1980, I recall hearing "While You See a Chance" almost everywhere I went - it was truly a big radio hit, peaking at #7 on the Billboard charts. It's practically a clinic on how to structure a good pop melody - the chord structure is not too complex, but the vocal parts make the most of every chord, creating a winding melody that deftly finds its way back to the root chord. I'm reminded of some of the early Beatles hits (e.g. "I Should Have Known Better"), where the vocal melody often has to take a roundabout route to find its resolution but always lands gracefully, inspiring a "whoa" from me.  

Besides the second hit ("Arc of a Diver"), I'm also quite fond of "Spanish Dancer", with its graceful minor-key strut imparting an air of mystery that reminds me a bit of Steely Dan's Gaucho album. This track has the most impressive "atmospheric presence" on the album. In all, Arc of Diver provided Winwood with a template for success in the 80s, but his greatest commercial success was yet to come. Listeners who appreciate his songcraft, but think Back in the High Life sounds too "80s", should spend some time with Arc of a Diver. 

Japan - Gentlemen Take Polaroids (1980)

Dan:

I remember Steve and his friend Abram talking about Japan, and I was able to sample the band's Tin Drum (1981) album. It was full of interesting sounds and some fascinating songs like "Ghosts" and "Still Life in Mobile Homes." It seemed to combine art-rock and glam with an Asian theme, brought to life in leader David Sylvian's austere vocals. So I checked out Japan's previous album, Gentlemen Take Polaroids. Although still attributed to Japan, it lacked the self-conscious Asian posture and focused more on exotic contemporary themes. 

Polaroids is an exceptional album from start to finish. It's very accessible musically and leans toward understatement rather than upbeat, bashing rock and roll. The title track begins with a pleasantly lilting melody that belies its dark narrative about love and polaroid photography. "Swing" and "My New Career" are the other highlights of the LP's side 1. Side 2 is marred only by the odd cover of a Motown hit, "Ain't That Peculiar," which doesn't mesh with the more sophisticated material penned by Sylvian. The other tracks on side 2 are about dance ("Methods of Dance"), loneliness and isolation ("Nightporter"), and fantasies of adventure to escape isolation ("Taking Islands in Africa"). 

Curiously, the dismal themes on display are uplifted by the music, which is actually quite beautiful. Sylvian's voice rides softly over the melodies, rhythms and subtle chord progressions. These devices would become regular features in Sylvian's later solo albums, especially Brilliant Trees, Secrets of the Beehive, and Gone to Earth. These all remain favorites of mine.

Steve:

Japan emerged from humble, derivative beginnings to arrive at a more sophisticated sound with Gentlemen Take Polaroids. This new direction had been hinted at with their prior album, Quiet Life, which itself was a step forward from the more predictable post-punk of their earlier work.  

I always thought it a little unusual that Dan got so much enjoyment out of Gentlemen; not because it lacked any quality, but because it seemed so close to the New Wave and Synth-pop sounds of the time. But dig a little deeper and it's clear upon close listening that Japan were in a different league than, say, Duran Duran, a band that probably idolized these guys. Duran Duran's debut album especially has several Japan-like moments. 

It was even more remarkable to me that although Dan listened to this album a lot, I hardly ever listened to it until many years later. I don't even recall the anecdote where Dan heard about Tin Drum through me and my friend. However, I do recall hearing Tin Drum several times at Spec's, the Miami record store where I worked as a teenager. My time at Spec's was crucial in nudging my musical tastes from Top 40 Music (with a few oddballs like Talking Heads mixed in) to College Rock (what is now called 80s Alternative and Punk/Hardcore). Japan were one of the many new bands I was exposed to through that store.

Steely Dan - Gaucho (1980)

Steve:

As Steely Dan's final hurrah before their self-imposed hiatus in 1980, Gaucho is often underrated. Although Aja was a hard act to follow, and various personal problems (Becker was battling drug addiction) made Gaucho a difficult album to complete, song for song it stacks up pretty well next to Aja. It may still be slightly inferior, but it's a dazzling record for its time nonetheless.

As with most Steely Dan records, the glossy arrangements often mask some very clever lyrical themes, making for a collection of songs that can be enjoyed as either chillin' background or incisive social commentary. The opener "Babylon Sisters" shows Becker and Fagen growing weary of the decadent LA/superstar lifestyle, acknowledging that they just might be getting too old for that kind of fun. "Hey Nineteen", a top-10 hit single in the US, also addresses aging, as the protagonist makes himself look foolish trying to impress younger girls who don't even recognize an Aretha Franklin song. Musically, it's got a groove so cool it couldn't help but be a hit, and when the bridge section of "The Cuervo Gold / the fine Colombian / Make tonight a wonderful thing" comes in, it's a moment of melodic beauty. 

When "Hey Nineteen" was a hit, roller skating rinks were popular hangouts for kids, and I remember roller skating to this song. Just before the "Cuervo Gold" section, Fagen quietly says "skate a little lower now", and I used to try to comply with this request, although I was never a very good skater.

The title track is a humorous portrait of another guy looking foolish and out-of-place, in this case a "gaucho" (roughly translated as "cowboy") making a scene in an unfamiliar area and needing his friends to cover for/apologize for his behavior. Some interpretations of this song refer to Becker's drug-impaired state, turning up for recording sessions and being laughed at by the session musicians for his erratic behavior. The closing "Third World Man" is an extremely moving song with sad musical stylings. The lyrics seem to describe a Vietnam veteran whose traumatic experiences have left him in a constant state of paranoia and alarm as he tries to live a normal life back home after the war. Becker and Fagen's sensitive portrayal of this character makes it clear how much they sympathize and lament his sorry state.

In conclusion, if you enjoy the other 70s Steely Dan albums, there's no reason you can't enjoy this one too. Becker and Fagen were still on the songwriting roll that brought us The Royal Scam and Aja, but only a touch of weariness and personal strife (making the subsequent hiatus understandable, once known) keep this one from being among their best work. Still, that added dimension of strife makes for interesting art in itself.

Dan:

I'm always intrigued by the various interpretations of Steely Dan songs. They're intentionally opaque, of course, which requires more creativity on the listener's part. I still have no definite concept of who Dr. Wu might be from their Katy Lied album, and my personal interpretation of "Gaucho" is different from Steve's. So be it. I'm sure the songwriters had particular actors in mind based on their own experiences; most songwriters do. It's part of the fun (or frustration if you're a literal thinker) to imagine who these odd people might be. Best not to work too hard at it, though; music is meant to be fun, or so I think.

As was the Dan's usual practice, top-shelf musicians were hired, sometimes only to play a few bars. I like to name-check the guest artists on their albums. Gaucho is graced by Tom Scott, Randy Brecker, Mark Knopfler, Joe Sample, Steve Khan, Hiram Bullock, Rick Derringer, Anthony Jackson, Rick Marotta, Ronnie Cuber, Michael McDonald, Rob Mounsey, Victor Feldman, Don Grolnick, Chuck Rainey, Bernard Purdie, among others that I haven't heard of. If those cats were actually on stage all at the same time, it would be a hell of a band!

As for the underlying theme of aging, it's something that everyone needs to deal with sooner or later. Even hip iconoclasts like Fagan (now 75) turn old and lose a lot of their mojo. Becker didn't make it that far, dying in 2017 at age 67. The songs in Gaucho that portray pathetic elders attempting to relive their past youth as cool dudes probably strike a bare nerve in many people. 

I heard once that the past was prologue to the future, which is an old but meaningful adage for me. In music, many jazz artists continue to perform and develop younger talent well past their 70s. As I get older myself, I try to use my experience to make a positive difference in the lives of other people, especially rising academics. I suppose blogging about prog is another way for me and Steve to "pay it forward" by sharing our experiences with our vast Internet audience.