The Alan Parsons Project - I Robot (1977)

Steve:

Although I Robot was commercially successful and is widely considered as one Alan Parsons' best albums, I'm still surprised that it isn't more highly regarded than it is, considering its impressive pedigree. Alan Parsons was a studio engineer who worked at EMI Studios (Abbey Road) and honed his craft by playing a key role in the recording of the Beatles' Abbey Road and Let it Be, and even more famously, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon (DSotM). The latter album inspired him to perfect his own brand of conceptual studio rock, with the help of co-songwriter Eric Woolfson (sitting to Parsons' right, below) and a rotating cast of singers and studio musicians, collectively known as The Alan Parsons Project. The band acquired their name by accident; it was still unnamed when they began recording, and the tapes were labeled only with that generic descriptor - but it stuck. With I Robot, The Alan Parsons Project created what I consider to be an ideal companion piece to DSotM; considering the popularity of that record, I feel the potential audience and universal appeal of I Robot have yet to be fully realized.

My first exposure to The Alan Parsons Project was via a compilation album, a demonstration record put out by Maxell - they had one called "Rock" and at least two called "Jazz". An odd product, to be sure. Maxell, of course, manufactured cassette tapes amidst the concern about "home recording is killing the record industry." Could this have been Maxell's effort to kill the industry from within by giving consumers records that were tailor-made to be copied onto cassette? Joking aside, the last track on the Rock sampler was "Genesis, Ch. 1, V. 32", which is the concluding track on I Robot. It's a powerful, ominous instrumental, and it made me all the more curious about I Robot when the album eventually entered Dan's collection.

Like DSotM, I Robot's musical selections flow in an organically paced sequence across each album side, often with one track segueing into the next. Both albums explore different facets of a unifying concept: madness and what drives people to it, in Pink Floyd's case; and the paradox of becoming a slave to technological advances that were designed to free us, in I Robot's case. Isaac Asimov's book of short stories titled I, Robot was the obvious inspiration behind the concept, although I have not read it myself, nor have I seen the 2004 movie of the same name. I say this to assure the reader that I may not have done as much research for this post as I could have, but at least I know what I don't know. 

Musical highlights on I Robot are many. "I Wouldn't Want to Be Like You" has a complex funk groove and a jazzy chord structure, and it still gets a good amount of radio airplay. It also has a great vocal by frequent collaborator Lenny Zakatek; "Games People Play" is another hit single he'd sing in a couple of years. The title track, which opens the album, is another classic, described by one reviewer as the sound of robots getting funky, which is an amusing image as well as an accurate one. "The Voice" is another favorite - its catchy bass line, dramatic instrumental mid-section, and placement at the start of side 2 make it analogous to "Money" from DSotM. Instrumental pieces otherwise dominate side 2, from the proto-trip-hop (really) of "Nucleus" to the full-on orchestral fright storm of "Total Eclipse" (also the original working title of a certain Pink Floyd album... coincidence?) to the aforementioned "Genesis, Ch. 1 V. 32". (Genesis Chapter 1 of the Bible, of course, has only 31 verses. Talk about a cliff hanger.)

Dan:

In 1977, I was wary about bands that weren't really bands. Real bands, in my mind, consisted of a bunch of musicians who performed and recorded together over some length of time, with substitutions as necessary. A recording engineer should just record bands, not usurp the musicians' art, or so I thought. But I Robot proved that my theory was naïve. Indeed, Parsons and Woolfson provided just what many "real" bands lacked - attention to the production of recorded music that equaled the attention paid to performance. I should have remembered that my favorite prog bands of the day all depended heavily on production as well as instrumental prowess - Pink Floyd, The Moody Blues, Steely Dan, Brian Eno, King Crimson, among others. Nonetheless, it was unusual to have the band named after the producer/engineer.

Obviously, the listening world rewarded such projects with album sales and awards. An unlikely following developed among audiophiles who normally value limited interference in the chain between performance and playback. But the audiophile press raved about I Robot as a sonic masterpiece. So I checked it out.

Steve nails the positive aspects of I Robot, so there is no need to repeat them. I would, however, like to single out my personal favorite song - "Don't Let It Show." It's not a battle cry for introversion, but rather a tense plea for deception following what appears to be a breakup. Ambiguity and struggle are reflected in the singer's request to "keep it inside of you," even though it's the wrong thing to say. So it's selfless and selfish at the same time. Sad, yet interesting, and nicely sung by Dave Townsend.

The Alan Parsons Project - Tales of Mystery and Imagination (1976)

Dan:

The Alan Parsons Project's recorded legacy begins here with the 1976 release of Tales of Mystery and Imagination. I had read more about this album than actually hearing it. I vaguely remember acquiring a copy of the 1976 release as well as a vinyl copy of the 1987 remastered version. The earlier version was spooky and dramatic; the 1987 remix was even more so. The difference maker was the inclusion of Orson Welles' narration on two key tracks: the opening instrumental "A Dream Within a Dream" and the prelude to "The Fall of the House of Usher." Those few lines alter the whole experience of the album, making it darker and more dramatic. Great touch.

The adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's gruesome stories to music makes perfect sense in the world of progressive rock. Since most people are at least partially familiar with Poe's works, having the stories realized in the prog genre makes them all the more compelling. The extravagant musical arrangements and gaudy packaging for Tales set a high bar for rockers with similar ambitions. Parsons and company worked on the album for six months in London's Abbey Road studios, enlisting dozens of musicians including the English Chorale choir.

The most impressive tracks are on side 2 of the LP, which includes the 15:13 minute suite "The Fall of the House of Usher." Eerie sounds begin the suite behind Welles' narration, followed by a continuous buildup of tension, culminating in loud door knocks, thunderclaps and a chaotic crash signifying the fall. This track illustrates most accurately what I like to refer to as cinematic rock. I can see the storm clouds and lightning flashes, fear the impending doom, and watch as the ancient House of Usher crumbles before me. 

This epic piece is poignantly followed by a simple song lasting a mere 4:21 to close the album. "To One in Paradise" is a reflection using part of a Poe poem and part new lyrics. I feel both hope and despair listening to this song, which captures much of the ambiguity typical of Poe's works. Composers Parsons and Woolfson prove themselves to be masterful songwriters based on this song alone.

Steve:

The only version of this album I've heard is the 1987 remix with Orson Welles' narration, and it's hard for me to imagine the album without it. If the production on the original release is as spacious as on the newer version (which I can totally believe, given the awesome sonics of I Robot from just a year later), then I am once again impressed by the studio skills of Parsons and his gang.  

The most memorable moments for me include the opening instrumental "Dream Within a Dream", which set the template for future Parsons instrumentals, often the highlights of their respective albums. Also, being an Arthur Brown fan, I derive much enjoyment out of his vocal feature on "The Tell-Tale Heart". His recording career (which continues to this day) has so many interesting twists and turns, I encourage you "weird music fans" to check him out.  

The real meal, though, is the "Fall of the House of Usher", which frightened me so much the first time I heard it that I avoided it for a long time afterwards. Listening again now, it's not all that scary. Its orchestral approach really nails the mood of loneliness and hopelessness that Poe's short story evokes. "To One in Paradise" serves as a welcome comforting hand upon one's shoulder following this tense despair, even though its comfort is laced with a certain resignation to the inherent horrors of the human condition.