Post-Punk Monk

Ric was not afraid of moving to the left on this album

[…continued from last post]

What was once side two was less eclectic than the first half of the album, but it started, commercially, with the most radio-ready song it would offer. “A Quick One” adhered closest to The Cars pop sound with a dreamy chord progression played rhythmically, for an almost Beach Boys sound to the keys. It was superficially cheerful, but with a underlying melancholy that made the song more memorable. Then the album got even better as Ocasek managed to build a side two suite that stood as his very own “Empires + Dance.”

It began with the only song here to be co-written with a member of The Cars, Greg Hawkes. The sound was far from The Cars. If anything, the music here and following seemed like the next logical step that should have followed “Panorama,” and it probably would have had the sales of that album dropped of significantly. The Cars very own “Dazzle Ships.” “Out Of Control” was trancelike with a minimal synth underpinning where a mood was built monolithically, and even the quivering synth waves pointed back to the “Empires + Dance” sound. Of course, this was all machines here with Hawkes guesting on synths to sit along the synths that Ocasek played throughout the album.

“Take A Walk” was more minimal synth sound with tinny, lead patches sounding like a Bontempi organ. The pulsating synth bass and Linn drum kept up a repetitive groove while Ocasek’s filtered voice recited the lyrics. It was at this point that I began drawing a line back to the most likely probable source of artistic inspiration for Ocasek this time out; the elephant in the room known as Velvet Underground. Keyboards taking over the drone role carried by John Cale on viola. Even Ric’s vocals had something of Lou Reed here. The jangling guitar chords at the end having another VU quality to them.

“Sneak Attack” continued in this vein with more vocal filtering on Ocasek while he recited beat poetry. He insisted that the album was a play on the Beat Movement and should be pronounced “Beat-itude” in a Trouser Press interview at the time of release and listening to this certainly showed why. The droning organ chords again pointed back to the VU influence that was in full flower here. So much so that this track could follow Icehouse’s “Nothing To Do” and no one would bat an eyelash.

Then the final track was something else entirely; sounding like the intro to “Waiting For The Night Boat” crossbred with the crystalline purity of The Human League’s version of “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,” the sustained, wailing synth drones, and the pulsing bass synth opened up about two minutes in for actual drums and the guitar of Fuzbee Morse to take this weird one back into rock territory. Then after two minutes of simmering boil, Mores unleashed a wailing acid rock solo to do Alvin Lee or David Gilmour proud as this anxious closer to the album dabbled in sounds that would never be legal in The Cars.  It was a memorable ending for the album proper, but this DLX RM had the all important bonus round to consider.

Next: …Good Thing Made Better

A rare shot of Ocasek’s eyes sans shades! The American Ian Hunter?

[…continued from last post]

If “Jimmy Jimmy” was a space probe past the frontiers of “Panorama,” then “Something To Grab For” was the instance on this album of Ocasek keeping one foot on safe ground. It sounded for all the world like a song by The Cars. I had forgotten hearing this one but as soon as I heard the bass line on the intro, I immediately flashed back to the video which was all over MTV at exactly the point where the shiny new channel was a fixture in front of my eyes for long hours at a time. I never taped that clip or really payed attention to the song, but 38 years later it acquitted itself nicely as a song on caliber with some of the more interesting parts of The Cars’ catalog. The wildly Easton-esquer guitar solo at the middle eight was probably down to guest player Fuzzbee Morse; though Casey Lindstrom of Boston’s New Models [Produced by Ocasek at his studio] was also credited for guitar here. I felt that judging by the later Morse solo on the album’s final track [that leaves no doubt as to credit], that the wilder riffage here and there, was down to him.

Then the album gave us the craziest outlier that it would offer with “Prove.” This one “proved” to me that Ocasek had been listening to Price during his imperial “Dirty Mind” and “Controversy” period where he mined a rich seam of hybrid New Wave/funk like no other. The irony was that Prince probably owned “Candy-O” at the very least. The minimal synth riffing was balanced with funky rhythm licks for a taut counterpoint to Ocasek’s nervy vocal. This was a case of an artist taking the license to so as far as possible from his wheelhouse on his first solo album. But the song veered away from cooler Prince territory when the backing vocals and ultimately, the MOR sax by Deric Dyer conspired to pull the song down into Hall + Oates milieu, ca. 1981. Not bad, but no longer Prince-like. But the song definitely tried to do something differently and since I’m all about ’80-’81 Prince, I actually like it. Your mileage may vary.

Alas, I can’t bring myself to say the same thing about “I Can’t Wait.” It was a twee hit of treacly synthpop [complete with a glockenspiel to give diabetics the itchy fits] that ultimately sounded exactly like a track from the “Philip Oakey + Giorgio Moroder” album… which I cannot stand! It lasted one play in my Record Cell. Fortunately, it’s followed by the sumptuous “Connect up To Me” which was present here on CD in the long 7:39 version found only on the cassette back in 1982.

In a word, wow! This was the best Ric Ocasek song ever! Yeah, even “Shoo-Be-Doo” has fallen by the wayside for me. It began with a motorik synth bass with a squelchy two-note riff straight out of “Autobahn.” The track simply shimmered with a gossamer darknight energy, thanks to a jittery sequencer ostinato vibrating through the track. This time the glockenspiel was right at home as the heart wrenchingly beautiful melody fully justified that touch. The intentionally off beat drum interjectionss added dark complexity here, as did the distancing filters on Ocasek’s vocal. The extended version from the cassette works out to a never dull 7:39 and the throbbing beat that never quit must have given Michael Sembello some ideas for “Maniac” the next year. But that tawdry trifle wasn’t fit to sit on the same shelf as this beauty. The extended coda moved, finally, to Bryan Ferry territory for this acolyte as the urgency and desire of Ocasek’s vocal joined with the heraldic synths to sit at the feet of the master. Hell, I’d say Ric’s in Blue Nile territory here, and this came out far in advance of ‘A Walk Across The Rooftops. I truly wish this song could never end, and for me, it hasn’t. It’s been stuck in my mind since last weekend. Happily.

Next: …A Pop Fly Into Left Field