The 500 - #129 - Remain In Light - Talking Heads

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

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Album: #129
Album Title: Remain In Light
Artist: Talking Heads
Genre: New Wave, Art Rock, Funk Rock, Post Punk, World Beat
Recorded: Compass Point, Nassau, Bahamas, Sigma Sound, New York City, USA
Released: October, 1980
My age at release: 15
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #39, rising 90 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Once In A Lifetime

Back in Grade 11, I made one of the smartest moves of my high school career, signing up for a course called History Through the Arts. It was taught by an educator who would become one of my favourites, Mr. Richard Woods. He was a teacher who brought passion, humour and creativity to every lesson, using a carousel-style slide projector to display photographs on the classroom screen as he shared stories about each one. 

Ai created image of Mr. Woods teaching our class in 1981.

His class was like a time machine, guiding students through prehistoric cave paintings all the way to the splendor of the Renaissance. And thanks to Mr. Woods, I can still tell a Doric column from an Ionic or Corinthian one, in case you're looking for a ringer on your pub trivia team. Here's a handy mnemonic. (D)oric - (d)ull and plain, (I)onic - (i)ntricate and scrolly, (C)orinthian - (c)omplex and leafy.

A few weeks into the course, Mr. Woods let us know that we could sign up for a trip to Italy during March Break, with him as our chaperone and tour guide. We would depart from London, Ontario on the last day of school, fly to Italy -- by way of Belgrade, Yugoslavia -- and then spend  eight nights visiting Rome, Florence, Pompeii and Capri, before heading back home. Flights, accommodations, buses and meals were included for a paltry $1,100. My parents were willing to split the cost with me –  my part time job as a custodian at a local recreation centre making my share challenging but achievable.

Byron Optimist Centre, London, Ontario.

The trip was a whirlwind. Mr. Woods, seasoned from shepherding other classes through this adventure, crafted an itinerary that struck the perfect balance. There was enough structure to hit the must-see art, historical and architectural masterpieces, but plenty of breathing room for my cohort of teenagers to wander and feel the essence of Italy.

Ai image of 80s teens looking across Vatican City.

Day three started way too early. We stumbled into the hotel lobby at dawn, bleary-eyed and clutching whatever caffeine we could find, ready to board a bus for Florence -- a three-hour journey northwest from Rome. The first stretch was quiet, just the sound of yawns and the occasional sigh of regret for staying up too late, and consuming wine (a legal option for us).

Someone unearthed a cassette tape and slotted it into the bus stereo. Just one tape. I still have no idea who brought it or why, but it was Remain In Light by Talking Heads. And so, for the next two hours, we listened to the world beat, afro-funk, new wave of David Byrne and company...on repeat. Nobody complained. Nobody switched it off. I suppose, we all just silently accepted that this remarkable record would be forever linked in our memories as the trip of a lifetime. 

The highway trip from Rome to Florence.

Remain in Light was the fourth studio album by New York art-rock pioneers Talking Heads. Teaming up with producer Brian Eno, the band drew heavy inspiration from Nigerian afrobeat legend Fela Kuti, layering polyrhythms, looping grooves, and electronic textures to create something groundbreaking. Lead singer David Byrne famously broke through a bout of writer’s block by embracing a stream-of-consciousness approach to lyrics. He also pulled ideas from the hip hop scene around him in New York and African political literature. The result? A record that didn’t just set a new standard for recording, it sounded like nothing else on Earth.

Talking Heads in 1980 (l-r) David Byrne, Chris Frantz,
Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison.

Although I was a 16-year-old hard rock devotee when I first heard the album...on repeat...half a dozen times...I knew instantly it was something different and important. From the hip-hop-inspired grooves of Crosseyed and Painless to the sing-along magic (and existential malaise) of Once in a Lifetime, Remain in Light demanded my attention.

Album jacket for Once In A Lifetime single release.

Despite spending more than a week in Italy, I came home with only one photograph. I hadn’t brought a camera, but a trip-mate snapped a shot for me of the bronze statue of Perseus with the Head of Medusa by Benvenuto Cellini. The masterpiece stands proudly in the Loggia dei Lanzi in Florence. While it is the only personal picture I have of an incredible teen-age experience, my recollections are vivid, linked as they are to the soundtrack of the Talking Heads. Like Perseus defeating a mythical gorgon, the New York art quartet were at the peak of their powers.

The only shot I can find from my trip.

Thanks for the memories, Mr. Woods. As an educator myself, I now understand the commitment you made to make your lessons so engaging...not to mention, giving up your March Break to spend it with a bunch of, sometimes drunk, teenagers.

The 500 - #130 - Marquee Moon - Television

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

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Album: #130
Album Title: Marquee Moon
Artist: Television
Genre: Art Punk, Rock, New Wave, Garage Rock
Recorded: A & R Recording Studios, New York City, New York
Released: February, 1977
My age at release: 11
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #107, rising 23 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Marquee Moon

Back in January, 2019, when I committed to this long, winding blogging journey through Rolling Stone magazine's The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, I did what any curious music lover would do: I skimmed through the entire list to see whether some of my personal favourites had earned a place, and I was especially eager to find out what cracked the Top 20.

As I made my way through the rankings, I felt a spark of excitement each time I spotted a beloved record. There was Rage Against the Machine’s explosive debut and Peter Gabriel’s visionary record, So. Then. I spotted Elton John’s lavish, autobiographical masterpiece, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, and the genre-bending, theatrical opulence of A Night At The Opera from Queen. So eager was I to work through the list that many of these future blog posts were mapped out in my head months in advance.

Album jackets for four of my favourite records on The 500 list.

However, just as thrilling were the albums I didn’t know -- the ones that were destined to become new obsessions. These included Look-Ka Py Py by The Meters, The Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs, Manu Chao’s Próxima Estación: Esperanza, and Stankonia from OutKast. These four musical revelations, as well as many others, regularly earn a spot on my weekend playlists.

Album jackets for four, of many, new records I have discovered.

And then there was Marquee Moon, the debut album from Television, legends of the 1970s New York rock scene. Its reputation loomed large, and it had been sitting on my “I really should listen to this” list for years. Somehow, I let opportunities slip by. Last week, I seized the chance, and it delivered in spades. Marquee Moon not only lived up to its towering legacy; it reminded me exactly why I started this project in the first place.

Television are (l-r) Billy Ficca, Richard Lloyd, Tom Verlaine & Fred Smith

Back in 1973, two high school chums from Delaware, Tom Verlaine and Richard Hell, landed in New York City with big dreams and a couple of guitars. Before Television, they were a proto-punk/garage rock band called The Neon Boys, featuring Verlaine on vocals and guitar, Hell on bass, and Billy Ficca pounding the drums.

Album jacket for a single's release by The Neon Boys.

In March, 1973, guitarist Richard Lloyd was added and with him came the name Television, which I've recently learned was a nifty pun on the phrase "tell a vision". The group played their first gig as Television at The Townhouse Theatre, an 88-seat venue in midtown Manhattan. By 1975, Hell was out of the group and Fred Smith replaced him on bass. The group had secured a residency at the famed Bowery dive bar, CBGB's where they performed multiple sets, several nights a week, sharing the stage with other rising acts (also on The 500 list) including Patti Smith (#44), Blondie (#140), The New York Dolls (#215) The Modern Lovers (#381).

On stage at CBGB's Club in the Bowery area of Manhattan.

It is difficult to summarize Television's sound. They are often dubbed a garage band or post punk act. However, those descriptions are limited.  Unlike the blunt-force punk sound that was exploding  around them, Television played with more precision, favouring clean tones, intricate interplay, and a touch of jazz cool. It has been described as 'punk in attitude, but not in sound'. Verlaine and Lloyd didn’t just play riffs, they wove musical phrases like a conversation. Instead of power chords and distortion, they used clean tones, intricate voicings, and melodic tension, creating something radically different.

Verlaine, Lloyd and Smith on stage creating their signature guitar sound.

Marquee Moon landed like a lightning strike and was applauded by critics and revered by musicians. It was eight tracks of angular beauty that rewrote the rules for what a guitar band could be. The ten-minute title track absolutely wowed me and I couldn't wait to share it with my wife on our weekend drive to the cottage. At a time when many bands were chasing speed and aggression on their guitars, Verlaine and Lloyd were exploring clarity and, like jazz musicians before them, the spaces in between the notes.

Album jacket for Television's second release, Adventure.

Television lasted for only one more year, disbanding over creative differences in 1978 following the release of their second record, Adventure. They reunited in 1991 for a third, self-titled release. This reconnection was short lived, but their influence and impact were already monumental. Legendary acts scattered across The 500 list cite Television as an influence including REM, Sonic Youth, The Strokes, Echo and The Bunnymen, The Pixies, U2, Wilco, Joy Division and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. In the end, they truly "told a vision", and the world perked up and listened. I sure did.

The 500 - #157 - Closer - Joy Division

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

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Album: #157
Album Title: Closer

Artist: Joy Division

Genre: Post Punk, New Wave, Gothic Rock

Recorded: Britannia Row Studios, Islington, England

Released: July, 1980

My age at release: 15
How familiar was I with it before this week: A little

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #309, dropping 157 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Isolation

It’s easy to forget just how emotionally intense the teen-age years can be. Even after three decades teaching middle schoolers, I can still be caught off guard by young people’s unpredictable mood swings, impulsive decisions, and the waves of angst or apathy that seem to crash over them without warning. Sometimes, it takes a few deep breaths -- or even a good night’s sleep -- to move past the frustration and extend grace to these kids, who are often at the mercy of their hormonal tempests. On days like that, I find solace in music. A record like Closer, the haunting final album from Manchester’s Joy Division, helped me reconnect with the raw emotions that once defined my own adolescence. It reminds me where they’re coming from -- and, in a way, where I came from too.

My teen-age years were steeped in darkness and worry. I cycled through identities like sweaters -- trying each one on, hoping it would fit without itching. Most didn’t. I’d walk the school halls with my ears cloaked by headphones, the music louder than the world around me. Some days, I was defiant in class. I would challenge ideas, naively confident that I’d brilliantly uncovered some truth my English teacher had overlooked -- despite his degrees and decades teaching the same four novels. Other days, I'd sit in silence, brooding and distant, quietly hoping the pretty girl across the room would find something poetic in my storm-cloud demeanor.

Teen-age sleep patterns, we now recognize, are plagued by nightly battles between biology and responsibility, brains hardwired for nocturnal adventures, doomed to morning misery. My interests in literature, humour and media soon became as dark as the bags under my eyes. Nothing was off limits and my fascinations moved from dark, dystopian science fiction to vulgar comedy. One night, I might be rewatching a screening of A Clockwork Orange, The Shining or Eraserhead at our local repertoire cinema and the next I would be riding the bus reading off-colour jokes and biting satire in a National Lampoon magazine.

Despite my penchant for the macabre and the absurd, I was never teetering on the edge of delinquency or genuine darkness -- I had a firm grasp of right and wrong. My fascination with dystopian nightmares, crude humor, and provocative ideas wasn’t a sign of some deep disturbance; it was a performance, a way to carve out an identity that felt sharp, witty, and just rebellious enough to be intriguing. The paperback Truly Tasteless Jokes was also in my arsenal. It was a collection of disturbingly dark jokes designed to provoke laughter, discomfort, or admiration -- sometimes all at once. Because, in the strange social economy of teen-age boys, the ability to shock was its own form of currency, a way to seem cooler, sharper, a little more mysterious than it really was. It wasn’t about corruption; it was about style.

Joy Division were also exploring existential themes at about the same time I was discovering National Lampoon magazines, George Carlin, Redd Foxx and Richard Pryor records, and The Tasteless Jokes Book. The band's members were about ten years older than me and their group emerged from the punk scene in the late 1970s. They formed in Salford, England -- part of the Greater Manchester region -- and, after a few line-up changes, comprised Ian Curtis (vocals), Bernard Sumner (guitar), Peter Hook (bass), and Stephen Morris (drums).

Joy Division (l-r) Morris, Curtis, Sumner, Hook.

Originally, they called themselves Warsaw, a tribute to one of their heroes, David Bowie, and his haunting instrumental song Warszawa from the 1977 record Low (#251 on The 500). However, they changed their name to avoid confusion with a London punk band called The Warsaw Pact. Rather than reverting to their original name, Stiff Kittens, they opted for Joy Division -- a name that, despite sounding upbeat, carried a far darker symbolism. "Joy Division" refers to a inhuman period of World War II history -- the name assigned to groups of women in Nazi concentration camps who were forced into sexual slavery. They were subjected to horrific conditions and brutal exploitation, serving Nazi officers and soldiers at the death camps.

Adult female prisoners were separated from men and sorted
into workforces at Auschwitz camp. Picture from a Daily Mail
article The Auschwitz Brothel.

The band chose their name as a provocative recognition of its atrocious origins. However, their decision to feature a sketch of a Hitler Youth on the cover of their first EP, An Ideal For Living, fueled the controversy, with allegations that the members were Nazi sympathizers.

At that time, Joy Division's music began to change. Their early sound was raw and aggressive, but they evolved into something darker and more atmospheric. Their macabre, gothic sonic aesthetic was shaped by post-punk minimalism and stark production quality. Furthermore, singer Curtis' lyrics became deeply introspective and explored themes of isolation, despair and existential dread.

In part, this was the influence of the books he was reading, which included works from Franz Kafka, Fyodor Dostoevsky and J.G. Ballard. However, Curtis was also struggling with depression and late onset epilepsy -- both exacerbated by his drug and alcohol use. In 1978, Curtis began to experience frequent seizures, which sometimes occurred on stage. The medication he took to manage his affliction had intense side effects, contributing to his struggles with depression and emotional detachment.

Curtis, performing with Joy Division in Rotterdam (1979).

Joy Division's intense touring schedule in late 1979 and early 1980 to support their first album, Unknown Pleasures, was additionally detrimental to Curtis' physical and mental health. Moreover, his marriage to Deborah Woodruff was heading to divorce just a few months after the birth of their daughter, Natalie, in April, 1979. In the early morning hours of May 18, 1980, Curtis took his own life. He was 23.

The group's final record, Closer, was released two months after Curtis' death. It is widely regarded as a post-punk masterpiece and feels like an unsettling farewell from the band's singer and lyricist. His words feel claustrophobic and painfully introspective, with the songs The Eternal and Decades sounding almost funereal, while Isolation and Heart and Soul seem to pulse with a cold, detached energy.

The opening track, Atrocity Exhibition, was based on a book by the same name from English satirist and writer J.G. Ballard. The 1970 novel is a collection of experimental stories that explore themes of violence, media manipulation, and psychological breakdown. Ballard is best known for his novel Crash (1973) about a group of car crash fetishists who are sexually aroused by reenacting famous celebrity vehicular accidents, including those of Jayne Mansfield and James Dean. Crash was made into an Oscar-winning film in 2004 featuring an ensemble cast of Hollywood A Listers -- directed by London, Ontario, native Paul Haggis.

Movie poster for Crash (2004).

Though I was drawn to the macabre and the unsettling in high school, I wasn’t truly immersed in the material.-- I was playing a part, experimenting with identity and testing the boundaries of what seemed dark and clever. Had I paid attention, I probably would have connected deeply with Joy Division’s lyrics, but back then it wasn’t about sincerity -- it was about performance. Ian Curtis, however, wasn’t performing. His struggles were real, woven into every word he sang.

Lyrics from Love Will Tear Us Apart, a non-album single
released in June, 1980 one month after Curtis' suicide.

As a middle-school educator, I need to remind myself that students need more patience and grace, even when they are frustrating me with their choices. Some angsty teens may be slipping into a costume and trying out intense brooding  as a personality. However, Curtis' story reminds me that some may truly be struggling and  patience is required to look beyond the surface and  recognize when the shift into darkness is more than a passing phase or an effort to fit in.

The 500 - #166 - Imperial Bedroom - Elvis Costello

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 Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #166
Album Title: Imperial Bedroom

Artist: Elvis Costello

Genre: New Wave, Baroque Pop, Art Rock

Recorded: Air Studios, London, England

Released: July, 1982

My age at release: 16
How familiar was I with it before this week: One song

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Man Out Of Time

For the past twelve years, more than half of my students have been multi-language learners. Some arrive in my class directly from another country and speak almost no English. Most are well on their way to becoming strong English speakers, with several years of experience behind them. No matter their level, I am amazed at how quickly their language skills evolve. My job is, typically, helping them refine their grammar skills and navigate the trickier aspects of the English language -- irregular spellings, rich vocabulary and, often the hardest part, idioms and word play.

Imperial Bedroom, the seventh studio album from Elvis Costello, brims with layered lyrics, clever word play and surprising turns of phrase. Costello is able to blend evocative storytelling with biting sarcasm in his exploration of love, regret and disillusionment. In Shabby Doll, Costello uses the image of a worn out rag doll as a metaphor for someone being cruelly manipulated and discarded in a failed relationship.

Album cover for Shabby Doll single.

However, the stand out track for me is Man Out Of Time, the second single released from this week’s subject, Imperial Bedroom.  The title evokes a sense of desperation and plays on multiple meanings. Is this a person who feels out of place in their own era, or is it someone who has lost relevance? Perhaps it is simply a man who is literally running out of time. In it, the English singer-songwriter flexes his sharp and playful linguistic dexterity, writing with shifting perspectives and fragmented imagery, all of which contribute to a feeling of instability and disorientation. My favourite two verses read:

There`s a tuppeny hapenny millionaire
Looking for a fourpenny one
With a tight grip on the short hairs
Of the public imagination

But for his private wife and kids somehow
Real life becomes a rumour
Days of Dutch Courage
Just three French letters and a German sense of humour

There is so much going on with these eight lines and I loved wrestling with their meaning. In particular, I loved the inclusion of idiomatic phrases lifted from British soldier vernacular, circa 1945. 

• Dutch Courage (alcohol induced bravery),
• French Letters (condoms)
• German sense of humour (irony and a straight-faced, resigned acceptance of life's absurdity)

Recently, my wife and I have been watching a new HBO series called The Pitt. It is a medical drama set in the Emergency Room of The Pittsburgh Trauma Hospital that takes place in real time over 15 one hour-long episodes. The show offers a realistic window into the world of medical professionals under the most stressful circumstances. Consequently, the language and medical jargon they use is not explained to the viewers. One is simply immersed in the chaos and, much like the medical students depicted in the show, figure things out as they happen.

Costello's writing on Imperial Bedroom is similar. It is rich with word play, regional idioms and references that are left for the listener to decipher and interpret. Add to this the ambitious musical choices Costello and his band, The Attractions, create and it is easy to see why this album ranked in the top 200 on The 500. The record, produced by Geoff Emerick, best known for his work with The Beatles, reinvents the Post-Punk and New Wave sound of Costello's earlier releases. It contains orchestral flourishes, jazz influences and even Baroque Pop, a sound made famous by The Beatles with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, and Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys -- #1 and #2 respectively on The 500.

Album covers for Pet Sounds and Sgt. Pepper's.

Unsurprisingly, critics and fans have consider Imperial Bedroom to be Costello's "Sgt. Pepper moment". However, despite the strength of his record, it did not make the 2020 ticket. The updated list placed more emphasis on diversity of genre and contemporary cultural impact. As a result, many selected albums, including Imperial Bedroom, were shuffled down or bounced off to make way for new material, such as To Pimp A Butterfly from Kendrick Lamar and Lemonade by Beyoncé.  But, who knows, with another list likely to be released in the next few years, this clever, witty and ambitious record may crack the docket again. After all, I constantly have a new batch of music listeners to teach the joys of word play.