The 500 - #438 - The Cure - Boys Don't Cry

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 438

Album Title: Boys Don't Cry
Artist: The Cure
Genre: Gothic Rock, New Wave, Post-Punk
Recorded: 1978-1979
Released: February, 1980
My age at release: 14
How familiar was I with it before this week: A little
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: 10:15 Saturday Night

My thoughts on 80s Gothic-Rock has been well documented. To avoid repetition, I suggest these posts: this one about The Smith's debut record (1984) and this one discussing Heaven Up Here (1981) from Echo and the Bunnymen.

Formed in Crawley, West Sussex, England in 1978 The Cure was originally a trio featuring Lol Tolhurst on drums, Michael Dempsey on bass and vocals and Robert Smith on guitar and lead vocals. This record, Boys Don't Cry, was the first North American release for the band and is a compilation of studio material and their debut European release, Three Imaginary Boys. Their dark, tormented sound - coupled with Smith's sexually ambiguous stage persona - helped to launch the post-punk, goth-rock subculture of the 80s. 

Robert Smith (1980)

The Cure, like many bands, have grown on me over the years. My opinion of them has transitioned from disdain and antagonism in my late teens to indifferent acceptance in my early twenties. By my mid-twenties, a single song, Burn, on The Crow soundtrack made me a fan. Today, after giving this record multiple listens - - I'm happy to admit that I really like their sound.

I did a lot of thinking about why I disliked this band so much in my youth. It was a time when I viewed music appreciation as a competition. Like most high schoolers I fell into a clique-mentality and, real or imagined, felt judged by those who seemed different from me. 

My group - let's call us nerdy-rockers - wore our hair long and dressed in denim and, if we could afford it, leather. We listened to hard-rock, read fantasy literature and played Dungeons & Dragons. We were proud of the fact that we didn't fit into any box. (Spoiler Alert: We totally fit into a box - - London, Ontario was not the epicentre of the rocker-nerd).

Diametrically opposed to us (it seemed) were The Preppies, those soulless Ken and Barbie dolls with their neat, well-coiffed hair, designer threads and posh attitudes.

We felt judged!

Well of course we were!

They were judging us and...we were judging them.

Meanwhile, we were just a complicated bunch of kids, full of turbulent hormones and duplicitous emotions jammed together in a concrete building five days a week. We spent much of our day purposelessly eschewing support from those that had loved us for years while desperately seeking approval from compatriots ill-equipped to provide it.  

The soundtrack to this chaos was the music of our sect and some bands, such The Cure, fell on the other side of that awkward divide. 

It was all so complex back then and yet so easy to put in order now. There was no divide. My soundtrack remains special to me, but The Cure are a darn good band. They transitioned into a pop-friendly act in the late 80s and early 90s and continue to perform today, with Robert Smith as the only constant member. In 2019, they were inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the record certainly deserves its place on this list.

The 500 - #439 - Sam Cooke - Live at The Harlem Square Club

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 439

Album Title: Live at the Harlem Square Club
Artist: Sam Cooke
Genre: Soul
Recorded: January, 1963 
Released: June, 1985
My age at release: 19
How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly (These songs are legendary hits.)
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Bring it on Home to Me  (Suggested by my teaching colleague, Milt Betteridge.)

On January 12, 1963, a live performance was recorded at the Harlem Square Club in Overtown -- an historically African-American section of Miami, Florida. The performers were Sam Cooke and his seven-piece band. Cooke was already a legend in the entertainment industry, having found commercial success in the world of Gospel, Soul and Pop music. He was a singer, songwriter, civil-rights activist, businessman and entrepreneur. Dubbed The King of Soul, he had recorded thirty U.S. Top-40 hits between 1957 and 1964 including You Send Me, Chain Gang, Wonderful World and Twistin' the Night Away. 

His live performances were legendary and this record is a testament to his energy, enthusiasm and talent. However, the record company (RCA) felt differently and shelved it for 22 years. It was their opinion that the performance and audience were "too loud, raw and raucous", presuming that a contemporary pop-music audience wouldn't embrace unfiltered versions of his chart-topping singles. One might argue that the words "contemporary pop-music audience" could be changed to "white audience" in that sentence.

It is impossible to know how the record would have been received in 1964. However, when released in 1985 it was celebrated by contemporary music critics as one of the greatest live recordings of all time and has since been ranked in multiple "best of" lists, including Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time - which has it at #439. 

I have never thought of myself as a fan of Sam Cooke but hearing this record made me realize I've always loved his music. His voice is effortlessly smooth and his songwriting skills are undeniable. Cooke is a generational talent who pioneered a sound influencing everyone from Aretha Franklin to James Brown to The Beatles and beyond.

Cooke died on December 11, 1964, of a single gunshot to the heart. The death was ruled a justifiable homicide. But there were many conflicting reports and to this day there are some who believe a deeper investigation is required. This is covered in great detail in the recently released Netflix documentary ReMastered: The Two Killings of Sam Cooke.

However, at this time there is "no concrete evidence supporting a criminal conspiracy."

The 500 - #440 - Rum, Sodomy and the Lash

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 440

Album Title: Rum, Sodomy and the Lash
Artist: The Pogues
Genre: Celtic-Punk, Irish-Folk, Folk-Punk
Released: August, 1985
My age at release: 20
How familiar was I with it before this week: Two songs.
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Sally MacLennane (suggested by friend Karen Snell.)
Great Lyric:
"Now come you gentleman soldier, won't you marry me?"
"Oh no my dearest Polly, such things can never be
For I've a wife already and children I have three
Two wives are allowed in the army, but one's too many for me"
(From the song: The Gentleman Soldier)

While in university, I studied some of the works of Irish poet William Butler (W.B.) Yeats. I'd like to boast that I remember it well, but those recollections were an early victim to the passage of time. In fact, other than the opening line to Sailing to Byzantium, I only really remember the final stanza of Easter 1916, which focused on the week-long rebellion that ultimately led to the three-year Irish-Anglo War of Independence.

Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born. 

The words a terrible beauty stuck with me and describe perfectly my relationship with Irish-Folk music. To state that "I dislike it" isn't fair. I can appreciate its raw, terrible beauty; I just find it a little repetitive. Consequently, I enjoy it in limited quantities or in specific circumstances. For example, a song by The Pogues, The Chieftans or The Corrs in a mixed playlist is delightful. I'll also admit to enjoying a live performance during a Saint Patrick's Day party...but, that might be the green beer talking. Beyond these exceptions, any sustained performance borders on drudgery.

I knew very little about The Pogues before spending time with Rum, Sodomy & The Lash. Ironically, I began my first listen on St. Patrick's Day this week, an event that coincided with my symptom-free, self-isolation from the Coronavirus pandemic. Even the record cover and opening track The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn seemed bizzarely coincidental.

In 1985 the single Dirty Old Town was played regularly on the recently launched MuchMusic cable channel. I'll admit, my friends and I were hardly focused on the music. Instead we were fascinated by singer Shane MacGowan's teeth. Contextually, the mid-80s was dominated by glam-rock-influenced-hair-metal and semi-cartoonish pop music. Musicians were "pretty" - even the men. Most music videos featured some combination of brightly coloured, leather, lace or spandex coupled with sculpted hairstyles and more make-up than a store shelf at Sephora.

Suddenly, somewhere in between the Poison, Prince and Madonna videos was this odd, Celtic-folk-punk band with a lead singer who confirmed well-trodden tropes about bad British teeth - perhaps even informing this oft-quoted scene from Season 4 of The Simpson's.  

I suppose every band needs a hook to gain commercial popularity. There was no denying that MacGowan's chicklets generated popular discourse. In retrospect, I should have been kinder. MacGowan would struggle with addiction, which led to his declining dental health. Fortunately, his gnashers were the focus of a 2015 documentary, A Wreck Reborn, which chronicled "the transformation of the singer’s mouth from a graveyard of long-departed fangs to a showcase for 28 gleaming new dentures on a titanium frame."

As I write this, it is Friday, March 20. I have given Rum, Sodomy & The Lash several listens. I certainly have a new respect for the lyrics the band wrote but, I remain unmoved. I can only take so much of this terrible beauty. 

Things I learned:

• The band took it's name from "Pogue Mahone" – the anglicisation of the Irish Gaelic póg mo thóin, meaning "kiss my arse".
• The album takes its title from a quote attributed to Winston Churchill: "Don't talk to me about naval tradition. It's nothing but rum, sodomy and the lash."
• Pogues' drummer "Andrew Ranken" suggested the title to his bandmates because, "it seemed to sum up life in our band."
• The cover artwork painted by Peter Mennim is based on a Romantic-era work by Theodore Gericault called The Raft of Medusa. However, the band members' faces replace those originally depicted on the raft. Mennim was also responsible for the book jacket to Douglas Adam's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and the movie poster for The Crow.
• The album was produced by Elvis Costello who was dating and would marry Pogue's bassist and singer Cait (pronounced Cott) O'Riordan.

The 500 - #441 - Suicide - Self Titled Debut

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

My plan (amended). 

• One record per week(ish) and at least two complete listens.
• A blog post for each, highlighting the important details and, when possible, a background story that relates to the record.
• No rating scale - just an effort to expand my appreciation of diverse forms of music.
• Listen to Josh and his guest on The 500 podcast to gather additional information and insights.

Album # 441

Album Title: Self-Titled Debut
Artist: Suicide
Released: December, 1977
My age at release: 12
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at All
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Ghost Rider

The list from which The 500 Podcast and my weekly posts draw their inspiration was originally published by Rolling Stone Magazine in 2005. It was compiled in 2003 when the magazine asked a panel of artists, producers, industry executives and journalists to select their favourite albums. These were then evaluated by the Ernst & Young accounting firm which "devised a point system" to tabulate the responses. The list was revised in 2012 and this is the list to which I adhere.

However, the criteria used to determine which albums were, and were not, the "Greatest Of All Time" is not easily ascertained. Is a voter's choice based on... 

• musicianship?
• Billboard chart position?
• record sales?
• musical impact or influence?
• personal taste?

Additionally, The 500 List is not without criticism. Edna Gunderson of USA Today described it as predictable, "weighted toward testosterone-fueled vintage rock". Additionally, Jonny Sharp, a contributor to the New Music Express described the list as, "a soulless canon-centric (list) of the same-old, tired titles," noting that "when only one album in the top ten is less than 40 years old, you need to rethink your approach."

I've done my best to avoid over-analyzing The 500 but I'll admit skimming through its titles. Perhaps it is because I am "a testosterone-fueled fan of vintage rock" who is over 40 that I am a fan of many of these records. Entry number 441, the debut album by the band Suicide, is not one of them.

To be fair, I played it five times in a variety of settings (my home stereo, on headphones & through car speakers). The opening track, Ghost Rider, which I have included on my Spotify Playlist, is the song I enjoyed the most. It draws its title from a lesser known Marvel comic book and its protagonist. 

This is the debut album by Suicide, the New York Minimalist, Electronic-Rock, Synth-Punk duo of Alan Vega and Martin Rev. Vega, a visual artist and sculptor, met Rev, an avant-garde jazz keyboardist, in the late-sixties. After witnessing the burgeoning New York punk scene, the two decided to "create art".

Rev bought a cheap, Japanese electric keyboard and ran it through a series of bass-and-treble boosting pedals to enhance its limited sound. Simultaneously, Vega would sing, speak and scream improvised lyrics over the strange, dry, electronic hum.

Vega (left) and Rev in 1988

If you've never heard this record, I encourage you to listen to a few tracks to experience this bizarre cacophony.

Unsurprisingly, the record was not well received critically and it failed to make the charts. Regardless, it served as a template for the electronic sounds that would follow and it is easy to see how it influenced bands such as Nine Inch Nails, Daft Punk, Radiohead and Devo (whom I wrote about last week). It has also be praised by music heavyweights Bruce Springsteen and U2.

Although I did not enjoy the record, I have to admit this record deserves its place on The 500. Alan Vega's passing in 2016 was recognized by countless artists who celebrate his and Martin Rev's five-record "art experiment" as groundbreaking and profoundly important.

The 500 - #442 - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo. - Devo

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

My plan (amended). 

• One record per week(ish) and at least two complete listens.
• A blog post for each, highlighting the important details and, when possible, a background story that relates to the record.
• No rating scale - just an effort to expand my appreciation of diverse forms of music.
• Listen to Josh and his guest on The 500 podcast to gather additional information and insights.

Album # 442

Album Title: Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo.
Artist: Devo
Released: August, 1978
My age at release: 13
How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Uncontrollable Urge (Selected by several friends, including my high-school chum and Devo fan Paul Dawson)
Great Lyric:
"I been dipped in double meaning
I been stuck with static cling
Think I got a rupto-pac
I think I got a Big Mac attack" 
(From the song: Too Much Paranoias)

In childhood, there are moments of liberation and freedom that resonate with us forever. Perhaps it was the first time you were allowed to sleep in a tent with a few friends or when you finally got permission to ride your bike to school. At Christmas, 1977, I received a Panasonic Radio and Cassette player, and a world of music was suddenly accessible...in the sanctuary of my bedroom. 

This isn't it exactly, but awfully close

At the time, I was 12 and living in Kingsville, Ontario. This sleepy, farm, fishing and hockey town is 41 km south-east of Detroit, Michigan - - home of two competing rock-music stations WRIF (Riff Radio) and WWWW (W4). Lounging in my room doing or pretending to do school work, I could quickly switch between stations, slowly building my internal music database.

On Sunday evenings, a two-hour broadcast of The Dr. Demento Radio Show was aired. This was appointment listening. It combined my two great loves: music and comedy. Each week, Dr. Demento (aka Barry Hansen) would spin an eclectic mix of novelty songs ranging from humorously peculiar to the hauntingly bizarre. It was where I first heard... 

• "Weird" Al Yankovic and his first parody hit "My Bologna" (which lampooned The Knack's My Sharona), 
• What's he Building in There? by Tom Waits
• Constantinople by The Four Lads,  
• and all the exquisite weirdness of Barnes & Barnes with songs like Fishheads or Something's in the Bag

The Dr. Demento also introduced me to the music of Frank Zappa (whose album Freak Out! appears at #246 on the list) and, of course, the music from Album #442 Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo by Devo. 

Formed in Akron, Ohio in 1973, Devo featured two sets of brothers, the Mothersbaughs (Mark and Bob) and the Casales (Gerry and Bob) with drummer Alan Myers. 

The band rose to prominence in the mid-70s on the strength of their stage shows which, according to Hardcore Live Magazine, "mingled kitschy science-fiction themes with deadpan, surrealistic humour and mordantly satirical social commentary." Their broad, dissonant songs took advantage of advances in technological instrumentation (particularly the Minimoog analogue synthesizer keyboard). The band created their name from the biological theory of De-Evolution, a notion that suggests a species will, over time, revert to a more primitive form.

Devo came to the attention of David Bowie, Brian Eno and Iggy Pop who have nine records on The 500 list. All three offered to produce Devo's first record and, in the end, it was crafted by Eno with assistance from Bowie. 

The album, released in the summer of 1978, sold briskly but was received with a mixed critical response. I was familiar with it through performances of Jocko Homo and Mongoloid on Dr. Demento's program. However, it was Devo's October 1978 performance on Saturday Night Live that galvanized my fandom. Decked out in yellow hazmat suits they performed a fidgety, otherworldly robo-funk version of the Rolling Stone classic I Can't Get No Satisfaction. 

I got the impression of a seismic shift in culture was taking place and, much like I felt when I first plugged in my Panasonic radio, there was an intoxicating feeling of liberation just bearing witness to it. 

The 500 - #443 - Cheap Trick - In Color

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

My plan (amended). 

• One record per week(ish) and at least two complete listens.
• A blog post for each, highlighting the important details and, when possible, a background story that relates to the record.
• No rating scale - just an effort to expand my appreciation of diverse forms of music.
• Listen to Josh and his guest on The 500 podcast to gather additional information and insights.

Album # 443

Album Title: In Color
Artist: Cheap Trick
Released: September, 1977
My age at release: 12
How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Downed (Suggested by friend and music aficiondo Claudio)


If asked to name my favourite bands when I was about 15, I would have said, without hesitation...

1. Rush
2. Van Halen
3. Cheap Trick

The album that made me a fan of Cheap Trick was their 1979 live release, At Budokan. It appears at #426 on this list and will be the focus of a future blog post. 

I never owned the album In Color even though I contemplated purchasing it many times. I was always fascinated by the jacket. On the front, in colour, were the band's "eye-candy", Robin Zander and Tom Petersson, straddling motorcycles and looking 70s, long-hair, uber-cool . 

However, I was more intrigued by the back cover - a black and white picture, printed upside-down that featured guitarist (and principal songwriter) Rick Neilsen, with drummer Bun E. Carlos, looking decidedly uncool...on children's bicycles. 

There was something liberating about the dichotomy of these two pictures and the band members in them. Sure, I wanted to grow my hair out and look like a rock-star. But, at a time in my life when I was an awkward, self-conscious bundle of hormones and acne, there was comfort in knowing that it was okay to embrace my inner-nerd.

Things I learned...

• The song Southern Girls is about girls from the southern part of Canada. The band, who are from Rockford, Illinois, toured Canada extensively in the mid-70s. The original lyric, "Southern Canadian Girls" just didn't work - so it was truncated.
• In Color was re-recorded in 1997. The band's intention was to "record the album on their own terms" unencumbered by the demands of the record company. Dubbed "The Steve Albini Sessions" (after the producer who worked with them on the re-recording), it has never been officially released. However, a rough mix of some of the tracks can be found here. After listening to it a few times, I'll admit that I like it much more. It's raw and rocking - more dirty punk than polished pop-rock.