“Anything worth doing is worth overdoing,” or so says Mick Jagger, and many of his rock and roll cohorts seem to agree. Much like indulgent Hollywood filmmakers, some recording artists see no merit in self-editing. This is how we get Meet Joe Black. It’s also how we get to this week’s topic: Unnecessary Double Albums.
Todd Rundgren was one of rock’s first great do-it-yourselfers. A multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter, producer, filmmaker and hope to nerdy young boys everywhere, he made his mark with the Nazz before going solo in the early 1970s. His hit singles include “We Gotta Get You a Woman,” “Can We Still Be Friends?”, and “Bang the Drum All Day.” He’s also produced Meat Loaf’s Bat out of Hell, toured with Ringo Starr’s All-Starr Band, and replaced Rick Ocasek in the Cars.
Joining these achievements is Something/Anything?, his two-LP epic from 1972. Comprising 25 tracks and almost ninety minutes, it’s an overblown and often underwhelming attempt at remaking the White Album in Rundgren’s own image. A few tracks are essential, many are enjoyable, some are puzzling in-jokes that should have stayed in the vault. It even includes a spoken word interlude, a Motown cover, and an instrumental, thus completing the Album Filler Trifecta.
If it sounds as if I don’t like Something/Anything?, slow down. I criticize because I love. There’s plenty to marvel at. The soulful hit “Hello It’s Me” was good enough for the Isley Brothers, and therefore, for us. “Couldn’t I Just Tell You” and “It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference” are heartfelt and catchy. “Wolfman Jack” and “Slut” are funny without being too stupid and they rock, which is hard to pull off. “I Saw the Light” is as close to perfection as a pop single ever gets. Add up all of Something/Anything?’s finest moments, and you’d swear Rundgren was a genius.
He is, but genius is not concise by nature. It’s sloppy and sprawling and unreliable, making Something/Anything? a fitfully enthralling but frustrating experience. Did Rundgren really need to include “I Went to the Mirror,” a mumbling dirge that could be described charitably as a Lou Reed parody, and uncharitably as an incomprehensible waste of time? Must he indulge his inner Gilbert and Sullivan to sing about a Viking? Must he ruin the amusing “You Left Me Sore” with laughter, just to make sure we know he’s kidding? No, he mustn’t, but he does, and it leaves the listener exhausted and impatient.
Altogether, it’s a good album containing some greatness. It is impressive to consider that, for the first three sides, Rundgren plays every instrument and sings every part himself. That’s not a choir of females on “I Saw the Light,” it’s an overdubbed army of Todds. (He has said, "I have no 'soul' in the usual sense, but I can do this great feminine falsetto,” and he’s right.) Rundgren’s talent is impressive, but once he’s done impressing you, he doesn’t know when to stop.
TODAY’S RECOMMENDATION: “I Saw the Light” by Todd Rundgren
AVAILABLE ON: Something/Anything?; iTunes
Posts
2 comments:
Great entry! Although, I have one small bone to pick. Among Todd's many accomplishments, you omitted Utopia. Honestly, it's just too easy to forget Rundgren's twelve year stint fronting the schizophrenic B-list rock group. Perhaps you didn't forget and, instead, blocked it out entirely. I certainly couldn't blame you.
Sandwiched between its conceptual roots in experimental electronica, Todd Rundgren's Utopia produced a few surprising and uncharacteristic rock anthems. I agree that "I Saw the Light" is nearing pop perfection. But if that is so, "Set Me Free" takes the cake as the track with the most florid use of ride cymbal I've ever heard. Turns me into a bobblehead every time.
As far as ballads go, "Love is the Answer" will compel even coldest heart to sway with their lighter overhead at an amphitheater or in the middle of the supermarket. This tune is simple, utterly heartfelt and uplifting. If Utopia can ever escape its bad rap, I expect to hear this 1977 single on a hipster movie soundtrack someday.
It saddens me to know that Todd's band will be remembered for this shameful piece of prog-rock history rather than their handful of bouncy, albeit highly synthesized, rock ditties and starry-eyed, utopian ballads (pun intended).
Excellent point. Ignoring Utopia was an oversight. I think the reason I failed to mention them was that, mentally, I just consider Utopia to be a phase of Rundgren's solo career, and not their own entity. Sort of like the way I always just file Wings under "Paul McCartney."
"Love is the Answer" is first-rate Rundgren, and I also enjoy "Love in Action." Thanks for the comment.
Post a Comment