1001 Albums Summary

Going into this album, the only song that I recognized immediately looking at the tracklist was the classic opener “Shining Star.” By 1975 Earth, Wind and Fire were well on their way to establishing themselves as one of the leading R&B/funk bands of the decade. Track two is the monster title track, which somehow I had forgotten about until the opening notes kicked the song immediately back into my brain. The track leaves little doubt the band was as comfortable in mid-tempo territory as when they are dropping classic funk tunes. Mixing jazz and world influences into “Happy Feelin’” the band is just humming and mastering every tool at their disposal. Did someone mention quiet storm? “All About Love” delivers that and more. Creating a template that others, like Luther Vandross, would perfect, the band utilizes spoken word, excellent background vocals, and a tremendous horn section to pepper the track with personality. However, an overindulgent keyboard part throughout the final minute is entirely unnecessary and distracting. “Yearnin’ and Learnin’” is the first sign of filler. It's not a terrible song but feels like the type of funk song the band could write in their sleep. The horn section during “Reasons” saves it from being a generic ballad. Featuring a falsetto vocal, horns, and strings, the group does everything possible to dress it up. The album regains it's footing with the afro-centric beats of the instrumental “Africano.” I’ve heard the band was fantastic live, and it's easy to see this getting an excellent work out in concert —plenty of 70s style funk guitar, horns, and percussion light this track on fire. “See the Light,” the closing track, is a rumination on the struggles of mid70s America with a hint of spirituality as well. Throw in some psychedelic-inspired keyboards and some Broadwayesque backing vocals, and the song leaves an impression. Although, I’m not convinced it's a positive one. I wouldn't call this record a masterpiece; however, there are some highlights and a couple of indisputable classics. Overall, the legendary status that surrounds EWF appears warranted.

Before diving into this record, the only song I was familiar with was the Christmas classic duet “Fairytale of New York” with Kirsty MacColl. I’ve always been aware of The Pogues as a sort of Irish version of The Replacements but never listened to them despite my love for their American counterparts. From the first note of the title track, I feel like I should be drinking a Guinness or an Irish whiskey. Accordions and banjos are flying recklessly over this track. “Turkish Song of the Damned” adds a middle eastern influence to the band's heavy Irish sound. The band pushes the pedal to the metal on “Bottle of Smoke” as Shane MacGowan spits out lyrics at a feverish pace while adding howls between the verses. Flutes, horns, and a throbbing bass drum propel the instrumental “Metropolis.” This song completely threw me for a loop. It's a curveball I didn't see coming. The party atmosphere comes to a brief halt with “Thousands Are Sailing.” A tale of immigration that adds a hint of melancholy to the Irish stew. Despite its boozy opening, the party atmosphere returns with “Fiesta.” Horns and McGowan’s howl make this song irresistible. For their next trick, The Pogues pull out an Irish medley of “The Recruiting Sergeant/The Rocky Road to London/Galway Races.” I love the band’s ambition, and they wholly lean into this with abandon. But wait, there’s another medley. Featuring a quiet acoustic guitar, “Streets of Sorrow” is the first hint of a ballad before doing a 180 with “Birmingham Six.” Bagpipes welcome “Lullaby of London.” Although it's hardly a lull in The Pouges’ hands, it's about as close as they get on this record. Accordions and relentless percussion on “Sit Down By The Fire” will hardly have anyone sitting. “The Broad Majestic Shannon” sounds like a retread of “Fairytale of New York” and seems to be the record's first misstep. Unfortunately, the album ends on a whimper with “Worms.” The minute-long track is about as bunch fun as knowing you just finished your last Guinness. This is not a Monday night album. It's strictly for the weekends after a few drinks have been consumed. As my wife said, “it’s rowdy.” I have no idea why I have avoided The Pogues for so long. Produced by Steve Lillywhite, this record is the drunken brother to their fellow Irishmen The Waterboys “Fisherman’s Blues” which was released the same year. Definitely two sides to the coin.