Peter Gabriel - So (1986)

Dan:

In the early 1980s, producer Daniel Lanois came to prominence through his work with Martha and The Muffins, The Shakers, and The Parachute Club. He then began a long association with Brian Eno, which led to Eno's Music for Films and Thursday Afternoon albums, and The Pearl by Harold Budd and Eno. All were ambient music exercises. In 1984, the same year as The Pearl's release, Lanois produced U2's huge hit album The Unforgettable Fire. It should therefore be no surprise to find him producing for Peter Gabriel, first on the soundtrack Birdy and then on So, which he co-produced with Gabriel.

I begin by mentioning Lanois because so much of what happens on So reflects the decisions made by the producers. Specifically, I've noticed in Lanois' productions an emphasis on quiet passages that lead off songs, for example the opening section of "Don't Give Up" on So. It seems like a minor touch, but it helps to set the mood. Critics have also raved about the sonic excellence of So, which of course is due more to the production than anything else. As fans of Genesis know, great albums are not produced in a day like some jazz albums might be. Much of prog rock is subjected to intense scrutiny before, during and after the recording sessions. A producer can create a coherent masterpiece or a shambolic failure, regardless of the skill of the musicians. Lanois and Eno, among others, seem to possess a magic touch whether creating ambient soundscapes, art rock extravaganzas, or both in the same album.

So is something of a phenomenon, considering that the highly principled and critical artist, Peter Gabriel, went off his own tramlines to create a hugely accessible and pop-oriented album. One need only look at "Sledgehammer," the best-known song on the album, for evidence that So was revolutionary. Buoyed by a charming comic book-styled video that played constantly on MTV, "Sledgehammer" was heard everywhere. The song entered daily conversations because it was full of sexual innuendos, such that parents blushed while their kids danced and sang to the music. That was controversial in 1986, but Gabriel claimed he was only singing about things that were frequent topics in soul music in the 1950s and earlier (Billy Eckstine's "Jelly Jelly" dates back to 1941, and Ray Charles' "What'd I Say" with its moans and groans dates to 1959. Not to mention Elvis, of course).

But racy innuendo is no reason to dispute the abundant riches of So. Almost every song has something special to offer. "Red Rain" is the vocal version of a Gabriel nightmare; "Don't Give Up," sung with Kate Bush, is an anthem to the support loved ones can extend to someone "whose dreams have all deserted;" "Mercy Street" is about, uh, mercy; and "In Your Eyes" is one of the greatest love songs ever written. A couple of songs reminiscent of Gabriel's earlier solo work ("We Do What We're Told" and "This Is the Picture") are included for the sake of variety. "Big Time" overcooks the rush of power and success, seemingly to give "Sledgehammer" a boisterous sibling to balance out the album. 

The album cover above is for the UK version on Virgin. The US version on Geffen added the title and performer's name. Apparently, Geffen did not expect US buyers to recognize Gabriel on sight.

Steve:

Much respect to Peter Gabriel and Daniel Lanois for giving the pop audience exactly what it wanted from a Gabriel album in 1986, while still delivering a nuanced recording that holds up after all these years. Security had sold a lot of copies, but mainly on the strength of a single song's (some might say fluke) success. So, on the other hand, was adored as a whole by the public, with several songs becoming deeply entrenched in the public consciousness.

I remember our whole family dancing around the family room to "Sledgehammer" - a great slice of funk pop on its own even without the groundbreaking video. Besides the easy thrills of the singalong chorus, the extended coda (the "show for me / I will show for you" improvisation workout) takes the song to another level, giving the feeling that the awesome party will never end. It's rightfully a classic 80s pop tune, still beloved by many today. I haven't run into anyone who outright hates the song.  

My wife and I chose "In Your Eyes" as our first-dance song at our wedding. I believe this decision originated when that song was performed at a Peter Gabriel concert that we attended (Gabriel was touring in support of the Up album). It's hard to explain the mind-meld that occurred to both of us simultaneously (it also had something to do with the John Cusack film, Say Anything, in which the song was featured), but from that moment on the song became symbolic to us. 

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.