Influential Albums - Day 3

This is an update from a post from June 20, 2018 

The Influential Album Challenge is circulating on Social Media platforms again. I have been asked to participate and am revisiting my picks from 2018. 

In March, 1980, I traveled by Greyhound bus to London, Ontario, to spend March Break with my dad who had secured a new job in advance of our family joining. It was my first opportunity to explore my future hometown.

London, Ontario (2012)

I had $30, earmarked for my favourite stuff -- video games, National Lampoon magazines and junk food. However, I knew I wanted to buy a Rush album. The villiage of Kingsville where I lived for five years only had one location that sold records, a small Five & Dime/pharmacy where the selection was limited. A rack near the counter had an assortment of current releases from which to choose. Although, it was mainly K-Tel compilations and Donna Summer's latest offering, a disco record that was ubiquitous that year. Certainly nothing as eclectic as Rush could be found in Kingsville.

K-Tel record from1980 - a mix of rock and disco

I had become fascinated with Rush's music after hearing the song Cinderella Man during a school dance. Anyone familiar with the song knows that this is not a dance track. However, 80s teen culture had embraced the “Disco Sucks!” movement, complete with T-shirts, so I suspect it had been requested by a student at the dance. 

A popular shirt worn by many high school students at the time.

My week in London was marvelous. Each morning, my dad and I would drive into downtown where he worked. Wandering the busy sidewalks was both overwhelming and liberating: video game arcades, bookstores, a half-dozen record sellers and a library (with more than one floor!) At fourteen, I was at the perfect age for this experience -- old enough to be independent and young enough to be untethered from responsibility.

I spent two days debating my record purchase, diligently comparing prices at Sam the Record Man, Mister Sound and the music section at both Eaton's & Simpsons' department stores. In a pre-internet age, it was a crash course in popular music. I absorbed all the available details as I flipped through hundreds of records, carefully examining cover art, track listings and dates.

Eventually, I settled on the live album All the World’s a Stage because, as a double album, it was the best value for the buck. After making my purchase, I went to the Central branch of the London Public Library and convinced the librarian to let me borrow headphones and use the record booth, despite having no library card or any form of identification. 

This is where I would spend much of the next three days. Plugged into a library turntable listening to both discs over and over again. As the band's first live release, it covered songs from their four initial albums. Consequently, it was a journey through the evolution of their music - from their 1974 debut to the 1976 release 2112. There were no lyrics in the liner, so I painstakingly tried to decipher each verse. Songs had names such as Bastille Day and Soliloquy ... clearly, there was some heady stuff going on here. 

I  loved the inner gatefold - it was amazing for a kid who had never seen a concert.

It was the beginning of a lifelong relationship with Rush. Eventually, I owned their entire catalogue on vinyl and I would see them perform many times -- including their final Toronto concert in June, 2015, on the R40 tour. 

The lyrics, the musicianship, the Canadianity of it all resonated with me. This record immediately transports me to a simpler, carefree time: shoving quarters into an arcade game, slugging a can of soda and walking to the library with my Rush record under my arm.

Ten Influential Albums - Day 2

This is an update from a post from June 20, 2018 

The Influential Album Challenge is circulating on Social Media platforms again. I have been asked to participate and am revisiting my picks from 2018. 

My first post, found here, was the Soundtrack to Oliver. I am moving chronologically and this post lands us in 1977 when I was 11 and 12.

I was in grade eight in the farming and fishing town of Kingsville, Ontario. At the time, Acceleration (skipping grades) and Retention (failing grades) were the norm. Consequently, one might be in a classroom with students who differed in age by four years.

A student named Jari arrived from Finland that autumn. He did not speak English, so they put him in grade four. I was fortunate to have my early education in England and was moved a grade forward. Consequently, Jari (13) was in grade four and Marc (12) was in grade eight. The figurative playing field was, however, levelled on the literal playing field. At recess, we struck up a friendship competing in sports -- mainly road hockey.

Jack Miner Public School in Kingsville, Ontario

Part way through the year, with graduation on the horizon, Jari was moved to my class because his English language skills had rapidly developed and he was also starting to look like a young adult. 

That summer, I was invited to Jari's 14th birthday party. I'd heard he'd made high school friends in his neighbourhood. When I arrived, I was the youngest person there. I can't remember what I bought him (or, rather, what my parents had bought me to give him), but every other gift was an album.

Someone bought him Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell. The cover seemed maniacal and sinister. Little did I realize it was essentially ballads and Broadway-style show-tunes.  

Another gift was the debut album from The Cars. I had never heard anything remotely "electronic". It seemed avant-garde and ultra modern. I purchased my copy a few months later from the Devonshire Mall in Windsor -- spending money I'd  earned through babysitting and newspaper delivery. 

In 1982, the song Moving in Stereo was be stamped on my impressionable teenage brain during a scene featuring the stunning Phoebe Cates in the film Fast Times at Ridgemont High. If you are familiar with the film, you know the scene.

I still enjoy The Cars record immensely. It introduced me to new-wave and synth-pop. The lyrics are quirky and, although it would take me years to appreciate it, ironic. Jari and I drifted apart after I moved to London. I'm glad to have known him for many reasons and this album is certainly one of them.

Ten Influential Albums - Day 1

This is an update from a post from June 10, 2018 

Once again, the Influential Album Challenge is circulating on Social Media platforms -- mainly Facebook. Typically, a friend who is participating nominates you. 

Their Facebook post likely reads...

"I've been nominated by *NAME* to post ten albums that influenced me. One album per day for ten days. No explanations. No reviews. Just the covers. Then, the challenger nominates three people, including you." 

Although I love being nominated, I don't like nominating people -- I feel like I am imposing. 

I've participated in this challenge before. Consequently, this post is an update. No explanations or reviews are expected but, if you know me, you know I love to talk about me...and music. I will:

• Post chronologically (trying to capture different phases of my life).
• Include a brief story about the record and my relationship with it.   
• Not nominate anyone else, but anyone is welcome to join. As I put it on Facebook, it is a Schrödinger's invitation. You have, simultaneously, been selected and not selected.

Day 1: I needed to pick something from my first decade and settled on the Soundtrack to Oliver. This was the first record I "liberated" from of my parent's collection -- which I remember being comprised of records by Nana Mouskouri, Mario Lanza and, for some reason, an Hawaiian Luau disc.

Food, Glorious Food, Consider Yourself and I'd Do Anything became the first lyrics I memorized. It was also when I learned to lift a needle and select a track of my choice by placing it in the appropriate groove. This was about 1973 (age 8) in St. Catharines, Ontario. My portable record player was awful and I am sure I did irreparable damage to many discs. However, it was the most wonderful technology available in my world. 

This was also the album that awakened my love for genre-crossing music. Oliver has grand orchestral numbers, cheeky, boppy comedic tracks, and tender, heartfelt ballads.

Honorable mentions must go to the records that almost made the cut - also from my parents' collection.

• The Fiddler on the Roof Soundtrack  
• Life in a Tin Can by The Bee Gees.
• Golden Greats by Elvis Presley