An Album For Every Year I've Been Alive: 1989

The Full Roster

Syd Barrett, Opel
Dick Dale & His Del-Tones, King of the Surf Guitar: The Best of Dick Dale & His Del-Tones
Bob Dylan, Oh Mercy
Galaxie 500, On Fire
John Lennon, The John Lennon Collection
The Kinks, Greatest Hits, Vol. 1
The Kinks, UK Jive
Tom Petty, Full Moon Fever
Pixies, Doolittle
The Pogues, Peace and Love
Lou Reed, New York

A whole seven original albums on this list, along with the odd compilation or two.  It's a veritable bonanza, and there are some goods indeed, although in comparison to some of the skimpier years, the volume of quality seems lower.  A few notes:  The Kinks' UK Jive is pretty forgettable, and a sad note to go out on for one of my favorite bands, who were capable of some amazing stuff in their heyday (which occurred before I was born; sorry, me).  Lou Reed and Bob Dylan return with some okay albums, while Dick Dale's compilation King of the Surf Guitar introduces surf music to the list; said genre should make a pretty conspicuous return in the '90s.

Favorite Album:  The Pixies, Doolittle

Whereas Surfer Rosa has parts of it that are sublime, and others that are merely good, Doolittle is great from top-to-bottom. It's opening three tracks are seven minutes of rock perfection, with the energetic "Debaser" casually referencing an experimental short film by Luis Bunuel; Black Francis screaming his throat out on the proto-grunge "Tame;" and perhaps Doolittle's finest song, the blissful pseudo-suicide fantasy "Wave of Mutilation," rounding out the trio. And while the Pixies would embrace both pop ("Here Comes Your Man") and environmentalism ("Monkey Gone to Heaven") on Doolittle, they would still maintain their vibrant sense of lunacy on songs like "Dead" and "Crackity Jones."  All those discordant sentiments (except environmentalism, I guess) were somehow harmoniously brought together on the uniquely charming "Hey," which maintains a sense of romanticism despite featuring lyrics like "Must be a Devil between us / Or whores in my head / Whores at the door / Whore in my bed," and a chorus that simply repeats "We're chained" in a plaintive staccato. And to close it all off, "Gouge Away" offers "some marijuana / if you got some," because hey, college.



Honorable Mention:  Galaxie 500, On Fire

I nearly gave this spot to Full Moon Fever by Tom Petty, which has a number of songs I like on it, but I also tend to skip about half that album when I do listen to it; whereas with On Fire, Galaxie 500's sophomore effort, the album as a whole is more enjoyable and cohesive to listen to, even if there isn't a single standout on the level of Petty's "Yer So Bad." On Fire is probably the best example of Galaxie 500's short-lived, shimmery, mellow indie rock. My personal favorite song would be "Strange," which would presage my own existence by nearly a decade with the immortal chorus "I went alone down to the drug store / I went in back and took a Coke / I stood in line and ate my Twinkies / I stood in line, I had to wait." The short, escapist "Leave the Planet" is a highlight, as well, but really it's just the simple pleasure of sticking the CD in and pressing play (or, I guess, queuing up the album on my iPod and pressing play, but that doesn't really have the same punch to it) and letting this album run its unassuming, lo-fi course that I find most pleasurable. The album-closing cover of George Harrison's "Isn't It a Pity" brings things to an appropriate close, and I dare say I like their version better. Sorry, George.  Not that you care, because you're dead, but still.



 Narrow Miss:  Tom Petty, Full Moon Fever

As I mentioned previously, I tend to skip over about half of Full Moon Fever whenever I happen to listen to it.  I admit this doesn't sound like a ringing endorsement of the album, but the half of the album I don't skip over is good enough that it warrants some mention.  The album starts with "Free Fallin'," a classic song that I honestly could do without.  For me, the album really starts with the next song, "I Won't Back Down."  From there, I usually give "Love Is a Long Road" a good listen, especially if I'm driving; it's a cheesy rock song, to be sure, but it's very well done, and shows what perhaps the Kinks were trying so hard to emulate for much of the '80s.  Then it's skip-a-song again, to get to "Runnin' Down a Dream," which, if I'm driving, is the perfect follower to "Love Is a Long Road," and is just pretty damn great in its own right, closing with its iconic guitar solo.  "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better" is an enjoyable enough bridge to my favorite Tom Petty song of all, "Yer So Bad," which has perhaps the greatest opening verse in all of rock:  "My sister got lucky / Married a yuppie / Took him for all he was worth / Now she's a swinger / Dating a singer / I can't decide which is worse." Then skip another song to get to "The Apartment Song," and if I want I can listen to the rest of the album peter out, but it really doesn't matter.  What I've just heard is awesome all on its own.




Most Ridiculous Song:  Lou Reed, "Dime Store Mystery," from the album New York

At the beginning of New York, there is a feeling of possibility--specifically, the possibility that Lou Reed might be trying on this one. "Romeo Had Juliette" isn't a brilliant song, but it has a punch to it that later-era Lou Reed songs often lack, and he even half-sings on it, instead of just merely mumbling into a microphone. And while there are some other good moments on the album, the old dispassionate Reed resurfaces soon enough, and by the time you get to the closer, "Dime Store Mystery," it's getting pretty tiresome. So of course, to wind things up, Reed reads his way through a contemplation of Jesus and faith and divinity in general, while a guitar and cello meander along in the background. Objectively, it might not be a terrible song; but when I hear it, all I have in my mind is Lou Reed at Bumbershoot, droning through his interminable version of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven," while a 40-something couple makes out sloppily in front of me, displaying devil-horns in Lou's direction all the while. The last verse of "Dime Store Mystery" begins with the lines "I wish I hadn't thrown away my time / On so much human and so much less divine," and all I can say at that point is yes, Lou, indeed. Tell me about it.



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