Great Albums: The Cars

The Cars – The Cars (1978)

The Cars – The Cars (1978)

Another great album from my misspent youth. I hope you’ll forgive my detours into autobiography, but most music that resonates with us also connects with what was going on in our lives at the time. This album will forever be associated with a period in my life when I was first discovering beer and girls. Though it came out in the spring of 1978, my memories are probably from the year after that. This was definitely an album that we were playing a year later. It had classic written all over it, even then.

Every weekend of my 14th year, I was at a house party. Usually hosted by my buddy Ken, they were low-key affairs, mostly involving sitting around listening to music, drinking beer, and if some girls showed up, flirting and hopefully, making out. I’m sure this pattern has been the same for decades, if not centuries, and we were happy not to disturb the universe. For me, the song “Just What I Needed” will always be associated with two girls: one I couldn’t have, and one I didn’t want.

Caroline lived in the same apartment building as me, and like me, her parents were Irish. Hers were from Cork, mine from Dublin, though they weren’t really friends. She was pretty, taller than me, and smarter and more sophisticated than any of the other girls I knew. She was also going out with my friend Bill, who was tall, good-looking and athletic. This caused me immense pain, and on at least one occasion, after a few jars, I was found passed out in a darkened bedroom moaning Caroline’s name over and over. Sigh.

Strangely enough, I reconnected with Caroline a few years ago. In high school, we lost touch as I dropped the partying and she seemed to sink deeper into it. Happily, she emerged and has become a sought-after fashion photographer who works in both Toronto and London. She recently had a little boy. I’m not sure if she reads my blog, but if so, hello! (You did know about my crush, didn’t you?)

Beth was a kind girl, but plain and bespectacled when I met her. One night, as I sprawled semi-blotto on the couch at Ken’s place, she sat down next to me and within minutes we were locked in passionate embrace. An hour or so later, I remember walking her down to the lobby where her dad was picking her up, and I sobered up rapid to realize that she now thought we were in a “relationship.” The next weekend, she was due to arrive at the party and I was terrified. Panicking, I locked myself in the bathroom and wrote her a “Dear Beth” letter on the roll of toilet paper. Tearing off the sheets, I left them on the countertop and emerged to face her. “Uh, there’s something for you in the bathroom,” I mumbled. If I broke her heart, at least she could wipe her tears with the evidence.

Justice was swift for my stupidity. Beth got contacts and a new hairstyle within a year or so, and became a model and actress. Later, she went on to have a proper relationship with a bona-fide Canadian rock star (Mark Holmes from Platinum Blonde). I can’t recall her ever speaking to me again.

What about The Cars, you’re now asking? Well, this was simply a great album. “Just What I Needed” still sounds fresh today, but there were no skippable tracks on this record. “My Best Friend’s Girl” was another jab when Caroline and Bill were around, but a good song nonetheless. “Moving In Stereo” was used in a great scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. And “Let The Good Times Roll” always felt like a great kickoff to our festivities.

The Cars were certainly more commercial than bands like The Ramones and Talking Heads, which is probably why I knew about them in 1979. I didn’t discover the more “authentic” bands until later. But The Cars were certainly influenced by the same stuff and they had a vaguely European flavour to my young ears. They definitely were indulging in more expensive and exotic drugs than we were (they even name-drop “psilocybin”) and their sense of style promised better hair for everyone in the 1980s. Pity that didn’t work out, though.

Track Listing

  1. Let The Good Times Roll
  2. My Best Friend’s Girl
  3. Just What I Needed
  4. I’m In Touch with Your World
  5. Don’t Cha Stop
  6. You’re All I’ve Got Tonight
  7. Bye Bye Love
  8. Moving In Stereo
  9. All Mixed Up

“Just What I Needed” live on the Midnight Special in 1978 at YouTube

Great Albums is an occasional feature on Consolation Champs where I relate some personal stories about life-changing music in lieu of any proper music criticism. You’ll probably learn more about me than about music, so consider that fair warning. For more, click the Great Albums category tag.

Great Albums: The Pretenders

The Pretenders – The Pretenders (1980)

The Pretenders – The Pretenders (1980)

I’m beginning a new and hopefully recurring feature on Consolation Champs. It’s called Great Albums. Does anyone remember what an album was? Do they still call a music “release” an album anymore? Well, back in 1980, when a band released an album, you bought an album, a piece of vinyl inside a paper sleeve slipped into a cardboard sleeve. I think I might have paid about $8 for this record when it came out in 1980. I was 15 years old. A bit of background may be in order.

My family came to Canada from Ireland when I was two. I grew up in a series of apartments even though my dad held a white-collar job. Part of the reason for that was that my mum didn’t work. She had dropped out of school when she was 13 to go to work to support her grandmother, and when she got married, she figured she didn’t want to work anymore. So, our one-income family lived among a lot of two-income blue-collar families. It gave me a unique perspective on things sometimes. Some of my friends didn’t finish high school. Most didn’t go beyond it.

Growing up in the 70s in that environment almost guaranteed that I’d be a rocker. In Canada, we’d say I was a bit of a hoser. From 1975 until about 1979, I wore my jeans tucked into unlaced construction boots and a jean jacket and carried my stuff to school in an Adidas gym bag. Hoser couture at the time. So my first musical forays were into stuff like Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, and Rush. But I was a bit different, too. Among my hoser friends, I was the first (and maybe only) one to get into punk and then new wave. I didn’t want to grow my hair long and wear a lumber jacket. By 1980, I’d gotten into the Sex Pistols and the Clash, Gary Numan and Devo. And then The Pretenders came along. Or more immediately, Chrissie Hynde came along.

Like most 15 year-old boys, I was an awkward and volatile blend of hormones and energy, and Chrissie Hynde grabbed my attention right away. Just look at her on the album cover photo. A red leather jacket! She appealed to my rocker roots. And she sang like both a tough chick and a vulnerable older woman. Plus, the band rocked, but in a very English new-wavey way. Picking this up was a no-brainer, even if I wasn’t that keen on the radio’s choice of a single, the almost unintelligible “Brass In Pocket”.

The truth is, this is a great album from start to finish. Since it was their debut, it contained all the pent-up energy of a band waiting to explode, and almost every song sounded fresh. In my now 40 year-old opinion, they still do. Chrissie’s voice grabs your attention right away in “Precious”; it was the first time (alas, but not the last) I’d hear a woman say “Fuck off” (and “shitting bricks”!). This woman was tough! On “Up The Neck,” she just oozes sex, and she coyly plays with the lyrics, drawing out such double entendres as “the veins bulged on his…brow”. She continues to talk dirty on “Tattooed Love Boys” and her heavy breathing on “The Wait” still gives me chills.

But it wasn’t just Chrissie Hynde that made this album so great for me. Guitarist James Honeyman-Scott was an innovator and his guitar work has remained very influential over the years. I love the way the end of “Space Invader” runs into the galloping opening of “The Wait”. I love that they actually have a song called “Space Invader” (the console game was HUGE around this time). The Ray Davies’ cover “Stop Your Sobbing” may have been influential in Hynde’s later romance with Ray himself. They even had a child together. And “Mystery Achievement” may be the best last track on any album. Truth be told, “Brass in Pocket” may be one of the weaker tracks on the album. But it’s the poppiest and least threatening, so you still hear it on the radio now and then.

Tragically, within three years, both Honeyman-Scott and bassist Pete Farndon were dead of drug overdoses, and although Hynde soldiered on, the punch and guts of the band had gone. But twenty-five years on, this is still a thrilling listen. Go on, geezers, dig it out of your crates of vinyl. And you kids, track it down on your favourite file-sharing service. You’ll feel 15 again. Or just 15, I guess.

Track Listing

  1. Precious
  2. The Phone Call
  3. Up the Neck
  4. Tattooed Love Boys
  5. Space Invader
  6. The Wait
  7. Stop Your Sobbing
  8. Kid
  9. Private Life
  10. Brass In Pocket
  11. Lovers of Today
  12. Mystery Achievement

“Stop Your Sobbing” on Top of the Pops on YouTube
“Tattooed Love Boys” live from 1981 on YouTube

Great Albums is an occasional feature on Consolation Champs where I relate some personal stories about life-changing music in lieu of any proper music criticism. You’ll probably learn more about me than about music, so consider that fair warning. For more, click the Great Albums category tag.

Cynical? Unfeeling? Jaded?

I just realized that, unlike every other blogger on earth, I didn’t post yesterday about the bombings in London. In fact, my post last night might have seemed purposely callous, seeing as how I dissed the English Premier League. That was not my intention by a mile.

But I wonder why I didn’t leap immediately behind the controls of my blog and start writing about how I was shocked, saddened, etc. etc. I think I felt vaguely like I’d be hitchhiking on other people’s misery, just like in 2001. Of course I’m miserable about the tragedy. I have family there (who are all ok, thank God). But I guess I’m just a little jaded by how the media (and here I include the so-called “blogosphere”) jump all over each new horror and make us look and look and look. It’s kind of gruesome, actually.

I’ll more than likely not be commenting further on this. Like most Londoners, I’ll be trying to live my life without caving in to fear or morbid fascination with violence. Sorry if that sounds self-righteous.

Pride and Remembrance 5K 2005 Pledges

Next Saturday, Brooke and I are running the Pride and Remembrance 5K for the third year in a row. This is one of our favourite races since it’s part of Pride Week here in Toronto and there is a real community feeling to the event. This year’s fundraising beneficiaries are the 519 Church St. Community Centre and the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives. Please consider sponsoring me by clicking on this link.

Barber Blues

I think I can remember the name of every person who has cut my hair more than once. I develop a strong dependence on my barbers. And I’ve had some trouble in the past couple of years keeping good ones.

Two years ago, Vince died. He had cut my hair for about fifteen years in his little two-chair shop next to the bus terminal. His replacement, Valentino, had become a good friend. We talked a lot about wine and his native Romania and most importantly, he actually figured out how to cut my hair. About six weeks ago, I went in to find him missing. Karim, a young Algerian barber, was there. He was replacing another Albanian barber who had opened up his own shop in the west end of Toronto. Karim told me that Valentino had been sick, experiencing vertigo and coughing a lot, and that after consulting lots of doctors here, he and his wife had gone to Costa Rica to consult with “natural” doctors. It didn’t look good and Valentino was considering selling the shop. I guess calling your business the “Terminal Barber Shop” may have been a jinx. Seriously, though, I was upset because Valentino is only in his mid-40s.

Karim tried gamely to cut my hair and I visited him twice but it just wasn’t working. He was a really great guy who had all kinds of stories but I’m not sure I’ll be back.

Today, I tried again. There are two places near me that looked promising. Of course, one was inexplicably closed. The other has been there for a long time, but the name should have warned me. Paul’s Hairstyling for Men and Women. Hmmm…

And even though I had my hair cut by Paul himself, it still isn’t right. I just want a barber who gets in there and cuts the hair. Instead, I felt like I was being pecked by birds. Lots off the sides and back, but they’re all terrified to tackle the top and front.

I’m considering shaving my own head.