If you’ve read previously, you know I post about music on occasion. But to tell you the truth I have never really settled on much when it comes to what I’m listening to at any particular time. If you look at my playlists you’ll see me all over the place: I really enjoy Souza. But I love the Talking Heads. I can easily listen to Beethoven and Andy Mineo (look him up) back-to-back. I’ve been to a Who concert in Oakland (and enjoyed the Clash (who were their second opening act) just as much if not more) and Puccini’s Madame Butterfly in Seoul.
When I was growing up, I knew people who loved listening to the radio. I myself can’t even remember the name of the radio station that was prevalent in the area of my teen years. I remember a few groups from that time – I mean, everyone should know the big ones – but I wasn’t much one for going out to buy their albums. I remember Barry Manilow if that counts for anything.
Things changed a bit when I joined the Air Force. I ran into a few “music-lovers.” You know, guys that listened to Springsteen and actually liked him. I personally could never stand the guy, but I suppose when you’re a teen growing up in Jersey, he’d be an icon in your eyes. And that’s a bit of the point here – I would never have known any guys who grew up in Jersey if it weren’t for the Air Force. Or Texas, or California, or South Carolina. You tend to get a wide range of musical tastes when you multiply it by the regions of the country. I know I would have never heard King Crimson or Genesis (early – with Peter Gabriel) if it weren’t for a particularly musically-inclined friend from Oregon (and with whom I attended a Utopia concert in Santa Cruz Civic Auditorium – I still remember getting there right at the start and standing two people from the stage).
You can see from my previous posts that I have indeed come to like and form strong opinions about a few particular groups and pieces. I’ve argued here for Pink Floyd, and I knew Wish You Were Here, Dark Side of the Moon, and The Wall even before I joined the Air Force. One of my high school memories is of some kids wandering around the neighborhood in typical small-town mischief singing “we don’t need no education” to which a heard a neighbor muttering, “I’ll give you an education…” My argument in a previous post was that Pink Floyd put out a string of albums that were nearly perfect, and I will always maintain that in so doing they cemented themselves as the top group of all time. Yes, more than those classics you might consider from that (or any other) era. Pink Floyd has stood the test of time, even if people now would rather listen to Beyoncé (or whomever the kids are listening to these days).
I’ve also argued for Steely Dan’s Aja as an incredible album with the title track as one of the greatest songs ever. Still true.
But did either Pink Floyd or Steely Dan put out the greatest album of all time? Sure, their works were absolute masterpieces. But even given all of the raving I have done about them, theirs was not the greatest. When it comes to albums in their entirety, from beginning to end, there is one that stands out above all others. And interestingly, it comes from my time before the Air Force (which began only a few months after high school by the way).
There’s really no argument here. Supertramp’s Crime of the Century is the greatest album of all time. From the first note to the last it flows and tells its story. It might be a different story for different listeners (and this in itself may be a part of its greatness), but a story nonetheless. Some of the older crowd might recognize songs that actually got air time like “Dreamer,” or “School.” But the album includes songs that are better and even more powerful – “Rudy” and “Asylum” in particular. If you listen to all four of these songs I’ve listed, you should hear the difference. “School” and “Dreamer” – more frenetic. “Rudy” and “Asylum” – deeper and darker. “School” and “Dreamer” speaking about trying to break out of restriction and compliance. “Rudy” and “Asylum” speaking about…well, something that’s “not quite right” about life. And the rest of the album fills in in the space between these songs so well.
Of course I’m recommending you listen if you haven’t heard it before. And if you have, listen again and enjoy it. We know that one of the measures of a great album is that you can listen to the whole thing repeatedly and never grow tired of even one piece. But to hear the story told over and over again and have it still mean something is another dimension altogether.
A dimension that is perfected in Crime of the Century.
Addendum: for a very few of us, one last thing to remember about this album: Gary Books, Lourdes Academy school bus, eight-track. Good times…