Peter Gabriel - Security (1982)

Dan:

Peter Gabriel's solo career was much anticipated after he left Genesis. His first four albums were all titled simply Peter Gabriel but known by other names descriptive of their cover art: Melt, Car, and Scratch. His fourth album was also eponymous but became widely known as Security. (It could have been called Balaclava for the scary mask.) The North American release formalized Security as the album title so we'll call it that. For me, it was the first of his solo albums to make much narrative or musical sense. It was also one of the first digital recordings in rock history, receiving lavish praise for its production and sonics. 

Being digitally recorded, Security was nonetheless pressed on vinyl, creating what seemed to be an anomaly - digital vinyl. But at the time, record labels were eager to tout the virtues of digital recording while also satisfying record buyers who were not equipped with CD players. Curiously, when CD versions of Security were released, the vinyl outperformed the CDs. The superior sonics of digital vinyl were hard to explain, and I recall reading various theoretical treatises to explain the counterintuitive findings.  

Amidst the format controversy, attention to the music became a bit slighted by concerns over sound quality. In any format, the music on Security served as the beginning of a breakthrough for Gabriel in reaching a wider audience. He would in four years' time complete the breakthrough with the album So. 

Security offers some heavy themes that logically tie this album back to the prog origins of Genesis. The first two tracks set the expectations high. "Rhythm of the Heat" is a percussive feast supporting a chanting lyric that places the listener inside a ceremonial ring of fire. Gabriel's scream "The rhythm has my soul!" provides the climax as the drummers pound on. The following "San Jacinto" portrays a burial procession of an indigenous native, featuring another climactic wail: "I hold the line, the line of strength that pulls me thorough the fear." 

Other songs also echo dark themes, especially "Wallflower," which is about an incarcerated person being advised to "hold on."

Hold on, you have gambled with your own life

And you face the night alone

While the builders of the cages

Sleep with bullets, bars and stone

They do not see your road to freedom

That you build with flesh and bone

You may disappear

You're not forgotten here
And I will say you
I will do what I can do.

I get chills whenever I hear "San Jacinto" or "Wallflower."

Two of the songs on Security appear to break the continuity of themes about despair and anguish: "Shock the Monkey" and "Kiss of Life." I don't really understand "Monkey," but I don't like animal cruelty, so I rarely play this song. "Kiss of Life" just seems pointless. But few albums are free of weak tracks, so I can still praise Security for its bold assault on unusual but important themes. It's a minor classic that has aged well over the 40+ years since its making.

Steve:

Security was likewise the first Peter Gabriel album that made its way into my consciousness. "Shock the Monkey" was easily Gabriel's biggest hit to that point, so I heard it a lot on the radio. It has also proven to be one of those songs I can never get tired of. This was proven during my college years (1987-1991) when a Charlotte NC station played it on a loop for several days straight. Why? It was a classic rock station that was about to be converted to a new format, and the station's mascot was a monkey. In protest, the station played the song continuously without commercial breaks until the conversion occurred. Several campus fraternity houses were amused by this and played their radios loudly for an entire weekend with "Shock the Monkey" playing, over and over. The fact that I still enjoy the song after all that says something, I think.

On a more artistic note, another way that Security impressed me was from hearing "The Rhythm of the Heat" on a good stereo, really loud. I believe it was a CD copy, so as Dan says, it probably wasn't the optimal format for this album (I'm listening to a vinyl copy as I write this) but hearing the thunderous drums that herald the climax of that song are something I will never forget. "San Jacinto" also provides some major cathartic sonic marvels. While it has no single "whoa" moment, the entire piece builds wonderfully and the deep bass notes that come in at the chorus provide a lot of tension/release.

Camel - The Single Factor/On the Road 1982 (1982)

Dan:

In May and June, 1982, our family lived in Copenhagen during my stay as a visiting faculty member. During that time, Camel was touring, so Steve and I made plans to attend the concert, held at the Odd Fellow Palæet. Unbeknownst to us, this was a special venue that used to be a small palace but was later converted into a concert hall with only 210 seats and perfect acoustics, according to their website. My Danish friends were surprised to hear that a rock concert would be held in a space normally reserved for wedding receptions and string quartet recitals. 

As we walked in, I could hear amazing sounds coming from the P/A system. I later discovered that it was an instrumental excerpt from a Rush album, Moving Pictures, basically the first two minutes of "The Camera Eye." As we settled in and the stage lit up, Camel launched into "Sasquatch," a great choice for an opening number. The rest of the concert was, in a word, euphoric.

When I got back to Miami, I made my way to Yesterday and Today records and found The Single Factor, which had just been released. It was then that I realized that the tour in Europe was connected to the new album. The concert included lots of the album's songs as well as the old standbys, although I don't have evidence or memory of the set list. It doesn't matter. It was one of the most enjoyable experiences of the whole trip and a special event in my prog journey. 

Years later, after Andrew Latimer had established Camel Productions in Mountain View, CA, he released an "On the Road" series of live concerts. On the Road 1982 was recorded at another concert on the tour, in Den Haag, NL. It was like being back in Copenhagen for me. I ordered all of the live recordings, which usually arrived with Andrew's signature on the CD cover. I appreciated this personal touch and was glad to be a recognized member of the Camel fan base. 

Returning to The Single Factor, the album itself was a product of some of the conflicts mentioned in our earlier review of Breathless. In Camel's futile attempt to create a hit single, The Single Factor was populated with shorter songs. Thankfully, all of the songs are good ones, but of course none became hits. I almost feel like the band was too good to write pop songs for the masses. In particular, the strong instrumental tracks - "Sasquatch" and "Selva" - don't appeal to wider audiences; and the softer tunes - "Lullabye," "A Heart's Desire," and "End Peace" - are too delicate to play on the air. But they make for a diverse album that shows off the musicianship common to all of Camel's oeuvre. 

According to online sources, the title of the fifth song from The Single Factor, "Camelogue," combined the words “Camel” and “Epilogue,” reflecting Latimer's thoughts of putting an end to the band. Thankfully, he did not but the lyrics betray his worries:

Fighting the lead

I was so confused

Feeling so accused

A solo rise

Have to keep going for the song and the road

Temptation sighs

Leave us a memory we've loved and known

What can I do?

Lastly, I am glad that I got The Single Factor on vinyl; the CD version is quite bad. Hopefully the remastered Esoteric version (2009) improves the digital sound. 

Steve:

My first concert! You can bet I remember most if not all of the show in Copenhagen during that fascinating long-term (6 weeks) trip there as I was just entering my teens. When my daughter was around the same age, my family took a trip to England and Scotland, and I knew from my own experience that the trip would have a huge effect on her life.  

The Single Factor, unfortunately, came at a time of uncertainty and instability for Camel. As a result, it is commonly considered a low point in the band's discography. I only hope that readers will listen to the album with open minds to hear that it still has much to recommend it - that is, unless readers still begrudge "pop" Camel as found on Breathless and I Can See Your House from Here (both reviewed elsewhere on this blog). 

And yes, the song-based, verse/chorus songs are dominant here, with guitarist Andrew Latimer clearly leading the way. In fact, as the album title implies, it feels like a solo album with help from outside musicians. Founding drummer Andy Ward had left the band due to an injury to his hand (as the lyric insert explains; Ward would later resurface as a member of The Bevis Frond, much to my delight!). David Paton and Chris Rainbow, both of whom had contributed to the Alan Parsons Project, provide additional lead vocals and instrumental help, with Anthony Phillips helping out on guitar and Fairport Conventioneer Dave Mattacks playing the drums. Latimer was the single original member left. 

The songs (mostly co-written by Latimer and his wife Susan Hoover) are uniformly introspective searches for strength and inspiration. "You Are the One" sounds like a typical love song at first, but the lyrics strongly hint at a religious epiphany - a love letter to God. "Camelogue" (quoted by Dan above), my favorite vocal piece on the album, depicts a man cast adrift with an uncertain future but determined to somehow "keep going for the song and the road". The song preceding it, "Manic", is a frantic confession of extreme mood swings and loss of control, sung to a racing tempo with jagged synthesizer stabs and loud guitars. The song concludes in a dark cloud devoid of rhythm and full of dissonant chords as Latimer acknowledges "there is no way out". Heavy stuff.

On the instrumental front, The Single Factor extends at least one carrot to the devoted Camel fan, the majestic "Sasquatch", which opens side 2. This song opened the concert we attended, and I remember it as well as any concert in my life, 40+ years later. Anthony Phillips provides the defining riff, delivered in rolling waves of acoustic 12-string guitar, over which Latimer performs the lead guitar magic he's always done. Elsewhere, "Selva" is an atypical ambient instrumental similar to "Elke" from the Rain Dances album (which had featured Brian Eno). When followed by the short piano/vocal piece "Lullabye", side 1 ends on a calm yet somber note, setting the stage for "Sasquatch" to lift one's spirits again.

I would never claim that The Single Factor is one of Camel's best albums, but it did play a large part in my life, and it's a lot better than the dismissive reviews that dominate the critical landscape would have you believe.

Roxy Music - Avalon (1982)

Dan:

Avalon was the only Roxy Music album not to feature at least one alluring female model on its cover. The cover art of Sir Bryan Ferry (I assume) staring across the misty moors with a hooded falcon on his arm suggests a mythological turn for the band, which had already moved into its glossy period with Flesh + Blood (1980). Despite the new imagery, most of the songs on Avalon are consistent with Roxy Music's themes of infatuation, obsession, painful longing and broken hearts. They were simply made more elegant on Avalon than on any of Roxy's or Ferry's previous albums.

That elegance elevates Avalon to the top echelon of glam-prog in the 80s. It's a knockout gorgeous album, brilliantly conceived and executed. The vocals are perfectly measured, and the instrumental backing superb. I'm running the gamut of superlatives here, but I think they're deserved. 

The highlight of Avalon is the title track, which conjures images of King Arthur's Court and chivalrous knights and their ladies. The YouTube video for this song is a great complement to the album, as it takes you inside the manor where the party has ended but the dance continues. Ferry's singing is at its most romantic, and the accompanying vocal by Yanick Etienne is sublime. It's such a great song!

I also find "True to Life" to be an exceptional piece of songwriting delivered with just the proper rhythmic drive. The alienating aspects of night life are portrayed indistinctly but the message comes through:

Dancing city, now you're talking

But where's your soul

You've a thousand faces

I'll never know.

Travel way downtown in search of nothing
But the sky at night
And the diamond lady
Well, she's not talking but that's alright.

Two short instrumental pieces help to make Avalon's songs more poignant. "India" follows the title track on side 1, and "Tara" closes the album with Andy Mackay's beseeching soprano sax. 

Roxy Music's Avalon tour included the live performances in Glasgow and Fréjus, France that yielded The High Road EP and DVD and the Heart Still Beating CD, both of which are reviewed elsewhere in this blog. Not to be missed.

Steve:

Avalon was the first compact disc I recall entering our home, purchased by Dan on the same day as his first CD player in 1985. It was a great first choice, as its lush atmospherics were perfect for the superior sonic experience that CDs supposedly provided. It may be hard for younger readers to understand this, but when CDs came out, they were marketed as the antidote to the surface noise and rough, live sound of vinyl. Nowadays, of course, vinyl lovers shun the antiseptic, compressed sound they claim CDs have, but back in the mid-80s, compressed and antiseptic sounds were IN. It was a selling point, and lots of top-selling albums from that period boasted that super-clean sound - the same sound that many complain sounds "too 80s". 

I happen to love that sound when it's done well, and boy is it done well on Avalon. So much so that the pejorative terms "antiseptic" and "compressed" don't even seem appropriate. What they do sound is "spacious", "romantic", "nuanced/detailed" and other more positive terms. I have trouble selecting a favorite track, as each one is capable of putting a huge smile on my face.  

Bryan Ferry's solo album Boys and Girls (1985) is essentially a follow-up to Avalon and pushes all the same fabulous buttons. I even get the two albums confused with each other sometimes, as they both played constantly in our house in the early to mid 80s. One of my current favorite songs to listen to on my stereo, in fact, is the title track of Boys and Girls, a forlorn romantic dirge that seems to have nothing in particular to do with boys or girls, yet the chorus echoes that simple phrase in between love-torn verses. It all seems to mean the world to Ferry, and thus empathetically to me.