Over what will likely be the next few years I’m going to be ranking and reviewing the top 5 albums - plus a fair few extras - according to users on rateyourmusic.com (think IMDB for music) from every year from 1960 to the present. If you want to know more, I wrote an introduction to the ‘challenge’ here. You can also read all the other entries I’ve written so far by heading to the lovely index page here.

Well, hello there 1976. As usual, let’s look at some of the year’s main events. Pol Pot became President (well, dictator) of Cambodia, the 19 month civil war ended in Lebanon, Jimmy Carter was elected US President and Viking I landed on Mars.

In terms of music, here’s what rateyourmusic.com’s users rate as the year’s top 5 albums:

I note here that rateyourmusic.com seems to have undergone an update which significantly changes the algorithm used to rank albums on the site , so this order has changed quite a lot if you go to the site now. I’ll be sticking to the ranking that was there when I started on this post however, but will of course be following the new rankings from now on (as the old ones are no longer available). For what it’s worth, the new algorithm seems to pay less attention to number of reviews, which means less well known stuff is generally getting higher up the charts.

#1 David Bowie - Station to Station
#2 Stevie Wonder - Songs in the Key of Life
#3 Ramones - Ramones
#4 Bob Dylan - Desire
#5 Rainbow - Rising

We’ve got returns for Stevie Wonder, Bowie and Jorge Ben, as well as a couple of new entrants: Judas Priest and Rainbow. As usual, I’ll be grabbing a few from further down the list.

#6 The Modern Lovers - The Modern Lovers
#7 Rush - 2112
#8 Judas Priest - Sad Wings of Destiny
#10 Joni Mitchell - Hejira
#13 Jorge Ben - África Brasil
#23 Patti Smith Group - Radio Ethiopia

And there we have it. 11 albums to review. Here’s my ranking and thoughts on the above.

The second album by the British heavy metal band received a positive reception when released in 1976, but had poor sales. It’s now seen as a cornerpiece of heavy metal history, and the point where Judas Priest found their sound and image. Interestingly, the band were struggling with their finances before its release, apparently restricting themselves to one meal a day and working part-time jobs during its recording.

The first thing you notice, is that this is the first appearance of the ‘heavy metal album cover’ made famous over the years by bands such as Iron Maiden. I’ve never been a fan of the look personally, but you can’t claim it wasn’t influential!

The album opens with its longest song, the almost 8 minute Victim of Changes, which serves as a pretty great introduction to what the band can do. There’s the bombardment of Black Sabbath-esque riffs, high-pitched howling vocals from Rob Halford and solid but occasionally flourishing drums from Alan Moore, but there’s also some more prog-rock elements in the song’s gentler end section. Halford demonstrates his considerable vocal range, singing in a calmer, lower tone that makes you wonder if he’s been swapped out for another vocalist before he goes into full 70s high-pitched death howl mode for the song’s conclusion. This is quickly followed by a phased solo that wouldn’t be out of place on a Hendrix album. Impressive stuff.

The Ripper is sung from the perspective of Jack the Ripper, and it’s here that the twin guitar sound of Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing is particularly evident, one riffing away as the other adds interest by sprinkling notes in various sections.

Generally speaking, I enjoy their heavier sections more than the more proggy calmer ones, where they have that overly dramatic and self-important sound that I’ve never been that much of a fan of. Dreamer Deceiver serves as a pretty good example of what I’m talking about, though the guitar solo at the end is majestic and the way it flows into the chugging Deceiver is also rather fabulous.

Sad Wings of Destiny is undoubtedly an important heavy metal record, and it contains some brilliant riffs, production, guitar solos and notably impressive vocals from Halford. I can hear a whole heap of influences in their playing, as well as a load of people they clearly influence further down the line, which is impressive. It’s just not something I’ll be reaching to listen to again.

Song Picks: Victim of Changes, The Ripper

7.5/10

Rainbow are a British rock band led by Ritchie Blackmore, previously of Deep Purple. Their second album is often cited as one of the most influential metal albums, and was ranked as the 48th best metal album of all time by Rolling Stone in 2017.

A 33 minute feast of 70s hard rock, the Deep Purple influence is obvious and marching riffs like those on Starstruck would have been completely at home on Deep Purple’s In Rock. Ronnie James Dio’s vocals are fairly generic 70s hard rock, although he’s refreshingly more restrained when it comes to falsetto howls.

What strikes me most about Rising is how tight everything sounds. Cozy Powell’s drums are seemingly tied to the guitar, and the whole thing sounds remarkably perfect considering this is before the age of convenient digital editing. The stops and starts on Do You Close Your Eyes are perfectly timed, and it really helps them to hit home. Once we’re into the 8 minute epic Stargazer the band have completely hit their stride, Blackmore unleashing a riff that should be far more famous than it is, in a song that sounds prophetic in its grandiosity. It tells the story of a wizard who believes he can fly, so he gets loads of people to build a tower for him to jump off (many of them die in the process) before jumping off and falling to his death. Dark. Ronnie James Dio’s vocals are sublime, and it sounds like the song he was born to sing. It’s one of my favourite songs in a genre that I don’t feel has aged all that well. The album closes brilliantly with another of the speedy-riffs that Blackmore does so well, in the pacey A Light in the Black.

Rising is a powerful recording of a hard-rock band on top form. Meaty riffs, tunefully thundering vocals, and drums that sound thick with force, its influence on the more obsessively polished metal sounds to come is obvious.

Song Picks: Stargazer, A Light in the Black

8/10

The punk juggernauts’ self-titled debut was recorded for a paltry $6,400 over seven days on the eighth floor of Radio City Music Hall in New York. In lead singer Joey Ramone’s own words (all members adopted pseudonyms with the surname Ramone, they weren’t related): "Doing an album in a week and bringing it in for $6,400 was unheard of, especially since it was an album that really changed the world. It kicked off punk rock and started the whole thing—as well as us." Although punk had certainly appeared before with bands such as Iggy and the Stooges this is the first time where there’s an album featuring entirely the ‘three chords and the truth’ simplicity of punk rock as we know it today.

The album comes storming out the gates with the famous opener and punk rock anthem Blitzkrieg Bop, Johnny Ramone’s crashing guitar riff erupting through the speakers like a call to arms. Joey Ramone’s vocals are less shouty than what add been associated with punk up to now, such as Iggy Pop’s growling and screaming, and you could almost say they juxtapose with the aggressive sound of the rest of the band, chanting catchy melodies over the top like an excited kid.

The album sounds rough, but by no means thin, with Dee Dee Ramone’s bass providing some very punchy bottom end. The drums are nearly lost in the crash of guitars, but it works, creating something that’s very restrained in its musicality - I doubt many songs have more than three chords here - but chaotic in its sound.

Once you’ve heard the opener, you know what you’re getting (except for the slightly unexpected love song I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend). These are simple, catchy and punchy songs that you can imagine crowds bouncing around aggressively to in sweat filled rooms, singing along and bouncing off each other. It’s brimming with energy, enjoyable and undoubtedly influential, if a little one-note.

Song Picks: Blitzkrieg Bop, Down to the Basement

8/10

Having so far failed to create a particularly profitable record, the Canadian prog-rock band’s label, Anthem Records, gave them one more chance. 2112, Rush’s fourth album, is the result of that. It quickly outsold all their previous releases, and remains their second best selling album to this day.

The album opens with the 20 minute title track, which is suitably prog-rock, telling a science-fiction story of a city where creativity is banned and no one knows what music is. It’s massively pretentious - as you’d expect from Rush - and reading its lyrics is akin to reading a very long poem. The song introduces the band’s spacey sound which has aged much better than a lot of the prog-rock of the era, with drummer and lyricist Neil Peart, guitarist Alex Lifeson and vocalist/bassist Geddy Lee creating an expansive sound that defies their numbers. The song is at times pounding, at times calmer, but always massive, with Geddy Lee’s vocals displaying a remarkable range and ability to go from a high pitched growl to a calmer, more resonant style. Everything is absolutely bang in time, which is remarkable considering how complex the whole arrangement is, and to be honest, it shines as a great example of just how epic music can be. As Lee howls out his final verse it feels like nothing else matters right now except for this ridiculously over-dramatic song. I was left nodding my head along, my thoughts in the stratosphere.

The Twilight Zone is written about two episodes of the titular program, one which Rush were clearly big fans of as they dedicated parts to the show’s creator Rod Sterling in numerous of their album sleeves. It’s a calmer song than the one which opens the album, and a good example of the more standard song structures that are present through the rest of the album’s material. Songs like Lessons (which is a rare example of Lifeson providing lyrics) and the ballad Tears are essentially pop songs with a prog-rock flavour. The album closes out with Something for Nothing, a return to the proggier nature of the opening track, featuring some impressive guitar fiddlery from Lifeson and Lee’s characteristic vocal style as he regularly matches the cadence of the guitar and bass riffs.

2112 is an example of a band on top form instrumentally - and we’ve had plenty of those in this challenge - but also one unwilling to sacrifice its mission for the sake of more sales. Opening with a 20 minute epic paid off though, largely because that 20 minute epic was so damn good, and while you could absolutely say it carries the album, the rest of the songs are rather entertaining too, if not as groundbreaking.

Song Picks: 2112

8.5/10

RadioEthipia — 7. Radio Ethiopia

Patti Smith

Patti Smiths’ second album was a move by her to become more commercially successful, which was what drove the decision to have Jack Douglas produce the album. The album, in something that seems overly harsh to me, was criticised as being Patti Smith selling out. I’m unsure how something so punk and abrasive (just listen to the title track) can be described as selling out, though I do accept the backing musicians are a little more restrained in general.

The album opens with Ask the Angels, a bouncy number which hops along thanks to an offbeat bass and guitar riff. There’s a celebratory feel to the song and Smith’s vocals, particularly as she and the band stutter through the chorus of “wild, wild, wild”. Ain’t it Strange features one of Smith’s most remarkable vocal performances on the album as she holds notes so long, she seems determined to bring them with her to the afterlife she sings of in the song. The drums are scattered with Ivan Král’s (he co-wrote much of the album’s material) bass holding it all together. Poppies is another example of the rambling vocal Smith does so well before we get to Poppies, a song that the author Nick Hornby has mentioned as one of the 31 songs that provided a soundtrack to his life. I can see why, it’s a song where the dark mood created by the screeching guitar solo, the walking bass and Smith’s vocal perfectly accompany the even darker lyrics, “My bowels are empty excreting your soul/What more can I give you baby I don't know”. It’s another demonstration of just how much Smith can push boundaries within the template of a rock song.

The rest of Radio Ethiopia continues in much a similar vain, with a free rocking and yet generally fairly restrained band backing Smith’s vocals, which are completely unrestrained and free just as they were on the excellent Horses. Much of what you think of the album will probably hang on your thoughts on the title track, which apparently divides critics who either think it’s display of boundary pushing brilliance, or an over-indulgent mess. I’m in the former camp, to me it’s a brazen 10 minute mass of noise that epitomises Smith’s artistic immoderation, her vocals finally backed by an instrumental melange that screams as much chaos as her vocals always have. She’s broken out the cage of song structure, and it’s rather glorious.

Song Picks: Ask the Angels, Ain’t it Strange, Radio Ethiopia.

8.5/10

Bob Dylan’s 17th album is notable for being one of his most collaborative. Not only do many of the songs feature backing vocals from Emmylou Harris and Ronee Blakely, but much of the album was co-written by Jacques Levy. It also sees Dylan returning to a political narrative with its famous opening track, Hurricane, which covers Dylan’s belief that boxer Rubin Carter was framed - his conviction was in fact later overturned in 1985. It is one of Dylan’s bestselling albums, and was named number 176 in Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

Recording sessions for the album began with a whole heap of musicians and were unsurprisingly chaotic, but numbers were gradually cut until Bob Dylan ended up with much of the band that would accompany him on the Rolling Thunder Revue tour and who are responsible for the album’s unique sound. The album has a sound which is notably darker than most of Dylan’s previous output, largely due to Scarlet Rivera’s haunting violin, something which is prominent on the aforementioned Hurricane, a track which marches along with Dylan telling a story with an anger reminiscent of his mid-60s acoustic albums. His vocal performance is as engaging as ever, and the out of time backing vocals give the ramshackle feel of a spontaneous live performance.

An album of stories, the next one is about a man’s search for meaning, as Dylan weaves a tale over twelve verses in one of the album’s most famous songs, Isis. The narrative is surprisingly followable (perhaps Levy’s influence) and is expertly accompanied once again by Rivera’s violin and Dylan’s charmingly shambly harmonica. This is followed by the slightly odd Mozambique, which was apparently inspired by Dylan and Levy’s quest to see how many words they could find to rhyme with ‘-ique’. It’s a simpler song, and has a particularly bouncy groove when compared to the rest of the album, providing some restbite to the generally darker content. It’s One More Cup of Coffee that’s my personal favourite though. Rivera’s violin singing sadly, the snare drum echoing like the drummer has got lost somewhere in a cave, and the bass adding beautiful flourishes when the other instruments and vocals leave a gap. The lyrics are beautifully mystical (this is notably one of the few songs not co-written by Levy) and Emmylou’s accompaniment on the chorus is irresistible, giving the song the gypsy feel that Dylan was apparently going for. “The valley below” mentioned in the song, “could mean anything,” Dylan asserts.

Side one is closed out by Oh Sister, a lovely duet where Dylan and Emmylou Harris’ vocals work together brilliantly, but the album’s second side, which begins with the overly long Joey, is not as strong as the first. Joey’s chorus melody is quite affecting - largely thanks to Emmylou’s accompaniment again, but Dylan’s story of the deceased gangster Joey Gallo - who he was accused of glorifying in the song - just isn’t interesting enough to keep my attention for its 12 minute duration. Romance in Durango thankfully provides some light relief with its Latin feel, and even features Dylan singing in Spanish.

I’ve always been a fan of penultimate track Black Diamond Bay’s jaunty melody and instrumentation, and Dylan’s vocal performance is one of the strongest on the album. The album closes with Sara, a song about his then wife, and probably the most honest and candid of all Dylan’s songs. He doesn’t hide behind metaphors or pseudonyms, and thus it’s quite a harrowing listen, the chorus seemingly letting you into his very soul, which isn’t a comfortable place to be.

I really love Desire, and have grown even more fond of it having seen Martin Scorcese’s excellent Rolling Thunder Review documentary. It has a mystical, dark quality to it that differentiates it from other Dylan albums, and Rivera’s violin is a masterful addition. Though the lyrics are still great and visually evocative, I don’t think they’re up there with his best output, and it’s also brought down by the fact that Joey isn’t really good enough to account for its 12 minute running length. Nevertheless, Desire is another great album from Bob, and certainly one of his best albums of the 70s.

Song Picks: One More Cup of Coffee, Black Diamond Bay, Hurricane

8.5/10

ModernLovers — 5. The Modern Lovers

The Modern Lovers

An album with a story far too complicated to get into here in much detail, but I’ll give you a short summary. Essentially, all 9 of the album’s songs were actually recorded in 1971 when the band couldn’t decide which record label to sign with and eventually broke up due to artistic disagreements. Lead singer, songwriter and lyricist Jonathan Richman eventually signed as a solo artist with Matthew Kaufman’s new Home of the Hits label in 1976, where Kaufman put together this release from their original 1971 recordings, six of which were produced by John Cale. So it’s the debut release of a band that had already broken up.

The Velvet Underground influence is evident from the off on Roadrunner, with messy guitars, almost talked vocals, and lyrics that have a very spontaneous spur of the moment feel to them. It’s a song about Richman’s love for Massachusetts - bandmate John Felice recalls he used to get ‘almost teary eyed’ looking out over it - driving around in his car with the radio on. It’s a simple idea, executed simply with just two chords, and it works.

The album’s light-heartedness is refreshing, and this is something that crops up again with Pablo Picasso, a song about how Pablo Picasso can get a way with acting like an ‘asshole’ because he’s famous, but you can’t. It bounces in a way not dissimilar to the opening track, with scattered, messy guitar and piano reminiscent once again of the Velvet Underground’s more experimental phase, while always remaining accessible due to the simple vocals, and bass part carrying the song structure. In She Cracked, the infectious bounce continues as Richman tells of the end of a relationship of a girlfriend who presumably succumbed to drugs. He sums it up with his trademark simplicity:

She cracked, I'm sad, but I won't
She cracked, I'm hurt, you're right
Alright

On Hospital, we see Richman showing some sadness, as he sings of an ex-lover being released from the psychiatric ward (perhaps the one he described in the previous track). The verses are slow and sombre, but the chorus has an energy similar to the rest of the album, Richman’s vocals mirroring the staccato rhythm of the guitar part.

The Modern Lovers is remarkable for its love of life, and also its ‘straight-edge’ lyrics - Richman regularly talks against drug use and smoking (see She’s Cracked and Modern World) - which goes against a lot of the music from this era. “Well the modern world is not so bad / Not like the students say” Richman sings on the album’s last track, and after listening to this upbeat gem of an album, it’s quite hard to disagree with him.

Song Picks: Roadrunner, She Cracked, Modern World, Someone to Care About

9/10

Jorge’s back with his 14th album, and his first on electric guitar. It incorporates both Afro-Brazilian and African-American pop styles and sees a significant steer towards funk. It’s considered one of his essential albums along with 1974’s A Tábua de Esmeralda (see my 1974 post for how much I loved that one).

Ponta de Lança Africano (Umbabarauma) opens with Jorge unaccompanied on his fancy new electric guitar, but it’s not long before the band enters and we’re into the familiar, happy and energetic space that so dominated the fabulous A Tábua de Esmeralda. It tells the story of a fictional African striker, and is often regarded as one of the finest songs about football ever written. To anyone, like me, who doesn’t understand Portuguese however, it’s just an infinitely positive sounding track notable for its more present groove than anything I’ve heard from Jorge before. The pattering percussion drives the track along as Jorge’s melodies are as catchy as ever. This infectious grooviness continues on Hermes Trismegisto Escreveu where Dadi Carvalho’s bass is the star of the show, bumbling along like that guy lost in his own world at a party, oblivious to the fact that everyone is staring at his carefree dance moves.

The musical palette is constantly interesting on Africa Brasil, with O Filósofo being a particularly fabulous example. I’m not sure what is making that ‘cuckoo’ noise in the song, but it’s brilliant, sprinkling a humorous joy all over the track, which is reinforced by the quacking wah sound that emphasises the end of each phrase. Jorge’s melody swirls gently again, as if he’s just coming up with catchy line after catchy line on the spot, and the whole thing has a Bob Marley produced by Scratch Perry feel to it, which is pretty much the highest compliment I can pay anything.

The backing vocals prevalent throughout the album are blissful, and help to frame Jorge’s choruses as on O Plebeu, or indeed emphasise them as on the splendid Taj Mahal, a song that’s so catchy I reckon you could throw a CD of it in the sea and empty the ocean - please don’t though Jorge, there’s too few fish as it is. Taj Mahal is quickly followed by perhaps the album’s catchiest track Xica da Silva, a song that again uses that cuckoo sound - though less prominently - and features a chorus that you just have to sing along to, even if you have no idea what he and his backing vocalists are singing about.

I could go on, but essentially what you have here is another album from Jorge Ben that’s full of life, energy, inventiveness, humour and above all, melody. With enough new instrumental palettes to make it remarkably different to A Tábua de Esmeralda, while still possessing the same soul, it’s an album so bursting with happiness that it’s hard not to smile for its duration.

Song picks: Taj Mahal, Xica da Silva, Ponta de Lança Africano (Umbabarauma)

9/10

StationtoStation — 3. Station to Station

David Bowie

For his tenth album, Bowie took on the persona of the ‘Thin White Duke’ and recorded in Los Angeles under such a haze of cocaine addiction that he claims to recall almost nothing of the recording and production. It came 52nd on Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 greatest albums of all time in 2020, and is widely seen as one of Bowie’s most important works.

The 10 minute opening title track is a perfect introduction. It starts with what sounds like a helicopter approaching, before a guitar screeches and some flimsy chords build ominously. The funk influence is immediately obvious, as is the German techno influence from bands such as Kraftwerk. The bass pounds and the melodica, guitar and ambient noise create an industrial soundscape fit for a character as seemingly detached as the Thin White Duke as he sings of his uncertainty of whether what he feels is love or just the cocaine - most likely the latter. By the time the song launches into a bouncy disco groove with the second chorus, as David Bowie sings “it’s too late to be grateful / it’s too late to be great again,” you’re left bopping and singing along, absorbed into Bowie’s cocaine fog, a fog taken to new levels by Earl Slick’s unruly lead guitar and George Murray’s irresistible bass. It’s a masterpiece.

This is followed by Golden Years, another display of bountiful bass from George Murray (one of the unsung heroes of this album). A funky disco number where Bowie’s ability to mix a whole host of vocal styles and catchy melodies combines perfectly with backing musicians creating a sound that hovers somewhere in-between electronic and the sound of a band, in a way that once again feeds the detached feeling of the album. The track was the first completed for the album, and was originally going to be the title track.

Word on a Wing is a slower, almost ballad-like song, which sees Bowie at his most intimate on the album until we reach the final track. Written about the ‘spiritual despair’ he went through on the set for the film The Man Who Fell to Earth. Bowie’s vocal performance is perfect once again, and particularly affecting, especially when he sings the beautifully melodic line “Sweet name, you're born once again for me”. It’s another highlight on an album of highlights.

TVC15 was reportedly written about an acid trip that Iggy Pop had at Bowie’s home where he thought the TV was swallowing his girlfriend. It’s another infectious, funky romp, this time with a slightly ramshackle and drunken feel thanks to Bowie’s vocal, despite the industrially precise musicianship on display. George Murray dials up the funky bass to 11 on the rambunctiously brilliant Stay before we reach the final track, a gorgeous cover of Wild is the Wind, a song Bowie was inspired to write after he met Nina Simone, who also covered the song on her album of the same name. Like Word on a Wing, the song features a particularly delicate Bowie vocal, which is particularly up front in the recording due to the more acoustic and stripped back sound of the rest of the band. It still has that detached industrial sound to it, likely because of the metallic reverb on Bowie’s voice, and it reeks of a man desperate to feel something.

Station to Station is one of Bowie’s masterpieces, and although I know it’s not a funk album as such, it’s still probably my favourite funky album, with the band working together brilliantly to create a whole host of infectious grooves. The fact these are led by Bowie’s unique vocals, lyrics, and just general feel, makes for a record unlike any other, one that is both intimate and yet completely cold, and one that is both authentic and fake. It’s the kind of album that could only have been written by Bowie while off his nut on cocaine, and it’s glorious.

Song Picks: Station to Station, Golden Years, Word on a Wing, Wild is the Wind

9.5/10

Joni Mitchell’s eighth album sees her continuing her journey away from pop and towards more jazz inspired arrangements, this time featuring Jaco Pastorious on the fretless electric bass. Regarded by many as one of the greatest bassist of all time, he died in in 1987 following a fight outside a bar. The album was largely written on a long trip from Maine back to LA in the car, something that’s clear in its sound as well as its lyrics. Though the album didn’t sell as well as its predecessors, it is regularly regarded as one of her strongest works.

The opening track, Coyote, was written while on tour with Bob Dylan and the Rolling Thunder Review. It’s the perfect opening song to the album, coasting along with Mitchell’s trademark guitar flourishes put through an electric guitar and phaser, gentle percussion dotting the soundscape like houses appearing on the horizon, and Mitchell’s vocals as free and melodic as birdsong. I’ve talked about Mitchell’s lyrical talents before, but this is another great example of it. A mystical tale of roadside events full of brilliant imagery, each majestic verse ends with the lines, “You just picked up a hitcher / A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway,” which is probably my favourite line of the year.

Joni’s electric guitar decorates each song perfectly, on Amelia it flies along like blurred lamp posts out the car window in the dark as Victor Feldman’s vibraphone adds the loveliest of cries to the soundscape. It’s all so damn pretty that you’d be forgiven for letting Mitchell’s lyrics wash over you, lost in her delicate melodies. But if you catch them, there’s a whole new world to explore.

While Joni’s gorgeous electric guitar playing is the centrepiece to most of the songs here, the variety of instruments that provide added sparkle is great and gives each song a unique feeling. Whether it be the previously mentioned vibraphone, or Neil Young’s gently unfettered harmonica playing on Furry Sings the Blues, or indeed Jaco Pastorious’ trademark singing bass on four of the album’s tracks, what’s created is an enchanting atmosphere, that perfectly backs Joni Mitchell’s tales of the mystical road.

Hejira is yet another superb album from Joni, and while I confidently said The Hissing of Summer Lawns was my favourite Joni Mitchell album when I reviewed it in 1975’s list, confident at the time that nothing could top it, I think Hejira is very much its equal. It’s an album that I’ll continue to discover new things with, where the lyrics have a wonderful depth, and yet even when you don’t pay attention to them the whole thing just sounds so beautiful. I’ve always loved solitary travel. The feeling of peace that exists when there really is nothing else you could be doing other than sitting there and staring out the window, watching the world go by. I’m not sure an album has ever got me closer to that feeling than this album and perhaps Ben Howard’s Noonday Dream. Joni sums it up best on the title track, where Pastorious’ bass glistens like happy thoughts sprinkling through your brain:

There's comfort in melancholy

When there's no need to explain

It's just as natural as the weather

In this moody sky today

Song Picks: Coyote, Amelia, Hejira

9.5/10

SongsintheKeyofLife — 1. Songs in the Key of Life

Stevie Wonder

Stevie Wonder’s 18th album came at a time when Wonder had seriously considered quitting music, but changed his mind to sign another seven album deal with the record label Motown. The first album of this deal was Songs in the Key of Life, a huge album of 21 songs (if you include the bonus EP included with the original release), and spanning over 104 minutes. It became Stevie Wonder’s best-selling and most critically acclaimed album of his career.

It’d be foolish to try and cover all of an album of such striking breadth and length in a review, so I’ll forgo my usual song by song orientated approach here, and try to talk about the album as whole, wile pointing to examples of what I’m talking about now and again.

I’ve talked a lot about albums being ‘tight’ this year, but Songs in the Key of Life is the tightest of them all. Every song is performed with a perfection that makes it hard to believe this wasn’t digitally edited at all. Wonder’s vocals are quite literally perfect at all times, tenderly singing more delicate songs like Knocks Me Off My Feet in a way that is absolutely food for the soul, while belting out more energetic numbers like I Wish with an infectious power that flows through your bloodstream like a drug.

Songs in the Key of Life is so influential it’s quite frankly ridiculous. Not only is it clearly a massive influence on R&B with it’s grooving soulful bass lines and impeccably recorded instruments that have a clarity absolutely not heard up to this point, but its melodies have been used and recycled all over the place. On a listen through you’re constantly recognising things, whether it be the fact that I Wish is essentially identical to (but better than) Will Smith’s later Wild Wild West, or the fact that Pastime Paradise was pretty much used in its entirety for Gangsta’s Paradise, one of the most famous rap songs out there. These are the most obvious, and credited examples, but I swear every melody on this thing has been used elsewhere, whether knowingly or not. When I first listened to it it was as if someone had just handed me a CD and said “here Clive, this is what influenced all the pop music you hear today, go listen to it”. It’s absolutely remarkable.

Songs in the Key of Life is exactly as its title suggests, full of life. Its an album full of all those things that make music so great: heart, joy, soul and passion. Over its 104 minute duration, I’m always overcome with an overflowing sense of joy where I just want to go and hug a a load of humans and maybe dance around the streets like Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain. Wonder’s otherworldly and yet humble vocals; the perfect, sparkling piano lines; the bass - primarily by Nathan Watts - is easily my favourite bass work on any album so far, perfectly embellishing these intricate compositions in a way that isn’t just an accompaniment, but that takes centre stage with its warm flourishes at numerous points in pretty much all the album’s songs. The backing vocals are majestic, and brass is used sparingly, to really punch and bring home a sense of jubilation when it is there.

This album is absolutely now one of my very favourites, and one that I’ll return to time and time again in the future, whenever I need reminding of just why I love music so much. I can’t pick a single fault with it, and I’ve quite often said that giving an album a 10 doesn’t necessarily mean it’s perfect, but in this case, I think it means exactly that.

Though of course nothing will replace listening to the whole of this majestic thing, I think if there’s one song on the album that embodies its boundless optimism, positivity, and melodic brilliance, it’s Isn’t She Lovely. A song that is so ‘lovely’ I feel like crying with joy every time I hear it.

Songs in the Key of Life is a perfect album. There, I’ve said it.

Song Picks: Isn’t She Lovely, I Wish, Sir Duke, Pastime Paradise

10/10