movin' on up

I don't think about albums in this way as much as I used to, but if I were to list my favorite albums Of All Time and compare that to what the list might've been a year or two ago, two albums would've moved up into the top tier: Nilsson's Schmilsson and Robert Wyatt's Rock Bottom.

Nilsson was someone I only discovered this year, but I've been listening to Wyatt / Soft Machine for over a decade. I'd be doing pretty well if each year I found one or two more top-tier albums.

Roy Wood - Boulders

An intricate, deliberately idiosyncratic record, assembled piece by piece, Boulders perfectly captures Roy Wood's peculiar genius, more so than anything else he recorded. All of his obsessions are here -- classical music, psychedelia, pre-Beatles pop, pastoral folk ballads, absurdist humor, studio trickery, and good old-fashioned rock & roll -- assembled in a gracefully eccentric fashion. Some listeners may find that eccentricity a little alienating, but it's the core of Wood's music. He wrote tuneful, accessible songs, but indulged his passions and weird ideas, so even the loveliest melodies and catchiest hooks are dressed in colorful, odd arrangements. The marvelous thing is, these arrangements never sound self-consciously weird - it's the sound of Wood's music in full bloom. Never before and never again did his quirks sound so charming, even thrilling, as they do on Boulders. As soon as "Songs of Praise" reaches its chorus, a choir of sped-up, multi-tracked Roys kick in, sending it into the stratosphere. All nine tunes unwind in a similar fashion, each blessed with delightfully unpredictable twists. It's easy to spot the tossed-off jokes on the goofy "When Gran'ma Plays the Banjo," but it may take several spins to realize that the percussion on "Wake Up" is the sound of Roy slapping a bowl of water. Boulders is a sonic mosaic -- you can choose to wonder at the little details or gaze at the glorious whole, enjoying the shape it forms. Wood has an unerring knack for melodies, whether they're in folk ballads, sweet pop or old-fashioned rock & rollers, yet his brilliance is how he turns the hooks 180 degrees until they're gloriously out of sync with his influences and peers. Boulders still sounds wonderfully out of time and it's easy to argue that it's the peak of his career.

(Roy Wood - Boulders)

Roy Harper - Stormcock

Roy Harper achieved some acclaim with releases like his debut, Sophisticated Beggar, and Flat Baroque and Berserk, but 1971's Stormcock was his first effort that was a fully realized success. Even though all four long songs on the record were arguably superior in subsequent live versions, this is one of only a handful of Harper's albums that has no weak cuts. "Hors d'Oeuvres" had been previewed two years earlier in a faster incarnation, but this version is pleasingly lethargic in a way much like Pink Floyd's "Fearless." "The Same Old Rock" is an extended musical poem about the narrow-mindedness of organized religion and features several movements, including one of Jimmy Page's best solos, even though the notes list Page as S. Flavius Mercurius. After the strangely melodic "One Man Rock and Roll Band," the album ends with the grand "Me and My Woman." This version, while slower than the definitive live take from Flashes From the Archives of Oblivion, features lush orchestration by David Bedford. All four lyrics could stand on their own, showing Harper's vision to be much more profound than the typical stoned poet. His musicianship on acoustic guitar is revelatory, at once thoughtful and hard-edged. Stormcock, in fact, epitomized a hybrid genre that had no exclusive purveyors save Harper -- epic progressive acoustic. In this style, Harper amalgamated the best elements of associates Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and folk artists like Bert Jansch into a winning stew of thought-provoking acoustic music. Harper dabbled in this style with mostly good results for the rest of his career, but never again would one of his albums exclusively have these type of songs on it. Stormcock represents a truly original vision comprised of oft-heard parts rarely assembled and therefore is on par with other heavyweights from the class of 1971 such as Led Zeppelin IV or Meddle.

(Roy Harper - Stormcock)

Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star

Undoubtedly the best album I discovered this year; it now reigns as one of my favorite listening experiences. Stick with it! --slowen

Something/Anything? proved that Todd Rundgren could write a pop classic as gracefully as any of his peers, but buried beneath the surface were signs that he would never be satisfied as merely a pop singer/songwriter. A close listen to the album reveals the eccentricities and restless spirit that surges to the forefront on its follow-up, A Wizard, a True Star. Anyone expecting the third record of Something/Anything?, filled with variations on "I Saw the Light" and "Hello It's Me," will be shocked by A Wizard. As much a mind-f*ck as an album, A Wizard, a True Star rarely breaks down to full-fledged songs, especially on the first side, where songs and melodies float in and out of a hazy post-psychedelic mist. Stylistically, there may not be much new -- he touched on so many different bases on Something/Anything? that it's hard to expand to new territory -- but it's all synthesized and assembled in fresh, strange ways. Often, it's a jarring, disturbing listen, especially since Rundgren's humor has turned bizarre and insular. It truly takes a concerted effort on the part of the listener to unravel the record, since Rundgren makes no concessions -- not only does the soul medley jerk in unpredictable ways, but the anthemic closer, "Just One Victory," is layered with so many overdubs that it's hard to hear its moving melody unless you pay attention. And that's the key to understanding A Wizard, a True Star -- it's one of those rare rock albums that demands full attention and, depending on your own vantage, it may even reward such close listening.

(Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star)