Tomita - The Firebird

RCA: 1975/2016

Tomita's passing was sad, but not unexpected, the famed Japanese synth wizard having lived a long, accomplished life. And if there's anything positive to be gained from a storied musician's death, it gives their estate and associated labels a reason to push out a fresh round of re-issues of their seminal work. Not that it happens all the time – Prince's estate remains rightfully protective of the man's vaults of music – but far as I can tell, Sony and Tomita have been on okay terms for the past few decades. About as positive a relationship as anyone can have with a faceless monolithic entertainment corporation anyway. (they do make wonderful portable music devices tho'!)

Not that Tomita's '70s albums were out of print or hard to find, but it'd been a while since his famed records were last in fresh circulation. Heck, Firebird alone hadn't been released in non-Japanese stores since the early '90s, though to be fair, Snowflakes Are Dancing is generally regarded as the Very Important Tomita Album deserving of frequent re-issues, since that's where all his technical innovations (Phasing! Flanging! Spatial stereo!) first appeared.

Once he got all that sorted, Tomita was able to crank out more classical interpretations at a modestly steady clip – just which ones would he take on, then? Bach and Beethoven were clearly out, as Carlos had already created the defining electronic takes on them (for a while anyway). Nay, ol' Isao-san had something a little more modern in mind, one of the giants of 20th Century classical and ballet composers, Russian Igor Stravinsky and his Firebird suite. Even if you've never heard a single piece of orchestral music in your life (!!), you've likely heard some variation of Infernal Dance - pure heavy metal fodder, that. Though I always think final boss in jRPG, which makes sense since Infernal Dance kinda' is a final boss confrontation in the actual ballet.

Obviously Tomita couldn't perform and produce the entire suite, so we get a truncated version of Firebird, with most of the highlights intact (think Disney's Fantasia 2000 version). For a composition that traditionally utilizes huge orchestras, what Tomita cranks out here is quite remarkable, synth-heavy sections of Round Of The Princesses, Lullaby, and Finale hitting you with just as much gravitas while worming in quirky, bleepy, flanged sounds and effects. I cannot deny though, Infernal Dance doesn't pump the adrenaline so effectively with the tinny synths here. Give me that full-frontal horn assault any day!

A couple bonus compositions were made for Side B, including Debussy's Prelude To The Afternoon Of A Faun. I don't know much about this one, but it's pleasant enough. The second is another heavy metal favourite, Moussorgsky's A Night On Bald Mountain. Hot damn, but are those choir samples ever put to great use here! Even the weird, burbling bloops have me imagining dancing devils as some cyborg abominations. Like, if that Disney version went full anime. Makes sense, with all the players involved.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Zuma

Reprise Records: 1975

Sometimes the best way to get out of a depressive funk is to abandon one group of music buddies, reconvene with another group of music buddies, and hang out on the beaches of Malibu getting all up in that mid-'70s bachelor life. Lots of booze, lots of 'rawk', probably some drugs too, though none of that super-heavy shit that had been going around, leading to too many deaths of colleagues. Or maybe a little on the psychedelic bent, Zuma marking the point where Neil Young started singing about ancient Aztec and Incan lore, the sort of stuff one can't help but be inspired by after ingesting a little psilocybin. Me, I just go and listen to every album I own in alphabetical order, but if writing music about Cortez the killer and mythical lady-birds is what does it for you, have at it, guy.

Weird inspirations aside, one of the reasons Zuma came to fruition is Young's old band Crazy Horse had found themselves a new guitarist after the passing of Danny Whitten. It'd only been a few years since then, but in Neil Young terms, that's practically a lifetime, a whole stage of his career cycled through. Insisting he come and check out the dude's chops on the axe (or however you say it), Mr. Young was impressed at how well he could perform both lead and rhythm guitar parts on such classic Crazy Horse collaborations like Cowgirl In The Sand and Down By The River.

That's because this here Frank Sampedro was a huge fan of the group, often jamming away on his own to the album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. So much so, in fact, that ol' “Pedro” joked he'd probably played those songs more than Young and Whitten ever had. Feeling that familiar fire that made their earlier works such kinetic monuments to classic rock, The Young & The Restless Horse hit the studio with the same carefree approach as before, cranking out tunes about blue barstools, stupid girls, and other love-lorn chestnuts.

Aside from Cortez The Killer though (sounding kinda' short to my ears at seven-and-a half minutes, since I'm used to the live Weld version), Zuma doesn't have much in the way of classic Young material. Some good, solid rock music, for sure, a few tunes of which are little more than excuses for the band to just go off while bemoaning past relationships (as I said, a total bachelor fest). There's also Danger Bird, the closest thing to a companion piece to Cortez The Killer in its epic sense of scope, though it doesn't reach the seven minute mark, nor has been trotted out for live sessions as often, so it's unsurprising the song goes overlooked in the annals of Young et Cheval de Fou music.

Which is Zuma in a nutshell. The players involved were basically rediscovering their synergy with this outing, and would create greater works together after this.

Synergy - Electronic Realizations For Rock Orchestra

Passport Records/Third Contact: 1975/2013

For a while, I figured the reason Larry Fast’s Synergy project never got the same buzz as his ‘70s synth contemporaries was due to his being American. All the biggest names in this high-concept, technical-wizardry scene hailed from Europe, where pushing the boundaries of Art was accepted, encouraged, and applauded by the music press. Meanwhile, in America, folks were still clinging to that good ol’ rock ‘n’ roll music, whether it be AM radio soft jams, funk fusions, or that punky stuff brewing in the East coast. While I can’t claim everyone in the U.S. of A. was anti-synthesizer, it certainly wasn’t as popular an instrument compared to elsewhere in the world, to say nothing of those who made extravagant compositions consisting of this cutting-edge hardware. So of course poor Larry Fast would be ignored in his home country, no matter how pioneering his works might have been.

Then I realized the truth of the matter is a lot simpler. It’s not that Fast was overlooked despite being among the earliest American adopters of pure synth music, it’s just that he wasn’t the first. Nay, that distinction goes to none other than Wendy Carlos, beating Fast to the game by several years. You can give ol’ Larry plenty of plaudits for taking up the mantle of American modern classical musicians when there still weren’t many around, but the country only cares about who got there before everyone else. No exceptions.

Speaking of firsts, here’s the debut Synergy album, Electronic Realizations For Rock Orchestra, about as egg-headed a title as you could get in the ‘70s. Fortunately, it’s something of a piss-take on the growing fad of prog-rock bands going full opera with their endeavors, especially those who ironically claimed being above all that (hi, Queen!).

The record consists of three pieces that break the ten-minute mark, and two shorter ones hover about six minutes. The opener, Legacy was even featured in the Cosmos soundtrack, and for the longest time, I never made the connection it was the same Synergy that would go on to do Cords and The Jupiter Menace. Even longer, I didn’t realize that particular composition featured on his debut either, not until I actually bought this and threw the CD on. Felt mighty sheepish being thrown for a loop hearing those cascading synths right off, you bet’cha. There’s just not much in the way of Synergy documentaries.

Slaughter On Tenth Avenue is a spiffy cover of the Richard Rodgers ballet, part of a Broadway musical. Makes sense that, while Tomita was doing classical covers, Fast would tackle something a little more American. Final track Warriors goes full modern classical in its composition, perhaps a tad twee in doing so, but sounds great if you dig your closing credit sequences in SNES-era jRPGs. The shorter pieces sound more like Fast showing off his technical skill on these cumbersome keyboards, which was just the thing to do at the time. Ask Rick Wakeman about it.

Tangerine Dream - Rubycon

Virgin: 1975/1995

Often considered the definitive stamp of Berlin-School establishing itself as a Thing. Phaedra may have helped set the stage for synth wizards sequencing their synthesizers into outwordly compositions, but that album still had a little left-over psychedelic rock lurking too, with comparatively smallish pieces not so dependent on Moog manipulations. Rubycon does away with the short tunes altogether, serving up two lengthy tracks that would eat up the full running time of your standard ‘70s record side. Not that it was Tangerine Dream’s first tackling of this most pretentious of prog rock pretensions – their earlier experimental work with less synthesizers would drone on for complete A and B sides too. Heck, even Phaedra, the song, ate up one whole side of its record. Actually composing and performing such behemoths weren’t easy though, especially with archaic equipment like the Mellotron, Double Moog, Synthi A, Arp 2600, Vcs 2 Synthi, and gong. Simply putting the effort into one composition, then easing back into a few shorter works for the same album is totally understandable.

Tangerine Dream though, they were feeling mighty bold after the success of Phaedra - the plumb record sales that came with the Virgin deal undoubtedly helped ease whatever creative strain the trio might have faced. If one such track could earn them all the praise and plaudits, why not produce double the amount with their next effort? Surely Froese, Franke, and Baumann were now familiar enough with their toys and tools that, whatever kinks or troubles that might have occurred in the recording of Phaedra were well ironed out now. Indeed they were, Rubycon critically hailed as an even better album than Phaedra, though didn’t sell quite as well. Look, they can’t all be genre defining records.

Side A features Rubycon, Pt. 1, opening as most kraut albums of the day typically do: minimalist tones, vibrating timbre, weird ambience, placing the listening in a bizarre cosmic domain. Strings and soft voice pads eventually enter, followed by the pulsing sequencer and soaring spaced-out organs and synths most associate with the Berlin-School sound. Tune gently fades out with a few effects, and I can’t help but think of Pink Floyd’s One Of These Days as it does. I’m sure the similarities are entirely coincidental; no way prog musicians style-bit one another, nosiree.

On the flip of my CD, Rubycon, Pt. 2 opts for a creepier start than its predecessor, with discordant Mellotron choirs intoning some alien ritual. The rhythmic synths kick in much earlier in this piece, building in prominence as additional synth solos with delay effects join the fray. The final third is mostly taken up by calm, modern classical doodling, all the while maintaining Tangerine Dream’s outworldy aesthetic. Feel free to make the requisite 2001: A Space Odyssey comparison at any point as Pt. 2 plays.

Naturally, Rubycon’s yet another Very Important Album in electronic music's every growing history. The inspiration and imitation of many future producers is difficult to miss in this one.

Neil Young - Tonight's The Night

Reprise Records: 1975

This is Neil Young dead centre in the ditch; or the middle album of his acclaimed Ditch Trilogy. Though released as the third album of the three, it was recorded between the live Time Fades Away and comedown blues of On The Beach. It also features one of his most ragged collections of tunes ever, perhaps only topped by the impossibly fun-n-sloppy Re-Ac-Ter down the road. This was seen as a revelation for many a critic, a resounding triumph of back-to-basics grubby rock by one of the scene’s veterans, delivered at a time when many rockers had grown fat and content on their earlier commercial successes. Not this Young fellah’ though! He saw that fame, lived that dream, got all that paper, bought that ranch, and got super-depressed over it, beating Roger Waters’ infamous crisis of faith by a few years.

Naturally, none of this was planned on Young’s part. Rather, compounding issues like testy tours, fears of creative stagnation, and dying friends all led to Tonight’s The Night. As the story goes, the double-whammy drug deaths of Crazy Horse leader Danny Whitten and roadie pal Bruce Berry got Neil off the road and seeking some good ol’ camaraderie from his closest musical friends. No, not Crosby, Stills and Nash, the ‘supergroup’ still in a state of mutual ‘frenemy’ flux. Rather, he hooked back up with the remaining Crazy Horse members, plus wonderkid guitarist Nils Lofgren, Harvest’s ace pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith, and producer pal Jack Nitzsche for a session at brother-of-Bruce's ramshackle studio. An all-star line-up of Young’s ‘raw’ repertoire, then!

They basically all got drunk, got stoned, played billiards, and played music late into the night, their recording time an extended wake for their departed comrades. Music quite literally about Bruce Berry the man (Tonight’s The Night), about the pitfalls of the druggie lifestyle (Speakin’ Out, Tired Eyes, Lookout Joe), some lighter moments (Roll Another Number), but generally everything just going to shit (World On A String, Albuquerque, Mellow My Mind). Tunes mostly stick to stoner blues, though with a little rock and country thrown in for good measure.

It’s also very unpolished material, about as ‘live’ sounding as a studio session can get, and hardly of quality label heads figured someone with Young’s fame could conceivably want out on the market. Following the equally unprofessional and commercial letdown that was Time Fades Away, you bet Reprise Records was leery about releasing this album as was. Another contentious tour playing the album in its entirety, well before any singles or records were pressed, only made frustrated fans more irate with Young’s increasingly agitating antics. Tonight’s The Night was thus shelved, perhaps indefinitely, yet another ‘lost classic’ in the annals of rock history.

Then, a couple years later, while going through some demos of new material, Young played the Tonight’s The Night sessions as a point of comparison. He instantly thought, “Hey, this is some raw, real stuff. Let’s go with this instead.” And he done did.

Kraftwerk - Radio-Activity

Astralwerks: 1975/2009

No, Kraftwerk, don't do it! No one's ready for a concept album from your group. Lengthy songs, sure that's fine, but sound experiments and quirky odes to Ohms is going too far. It'll be years before your promising, influential career will rebound from Radio-Activity. True, it'll all work out in the future-tense, when everyone goes back to these disregarded efforts with reverent eyes and ears. Can you afford that gap though? No, not yet, so just go make another Autobahn, over and over and over. Curses, why doesn't this time-travel portal let me interact with the past? More radioactive power, that’s what I need. Once accomplished, maybe I then could use this time-travel portal to go back a few minutes in the past and convince myself starting this review in such a goofy manner is a bad idea, yes?

The German quartet though, they had a vision, one where the future was now (then), and leading us into this undiscovered country were some of mankind’s greatest scientific discoveries of the last hundred years: the invisible realms of electromagnetic radio waves, and the radioactive energy emanating from everything that surrounds us. This wasn’t just Kraftwerk’s attitude either, as many Germans looked to the years ahead with fascination and optimism (the recent past was something of a sore spot) – it’s no coincidence many early electronic musicians hailed from Deutschland. That the Dusseldorf band would temporarily abandon the autobahn to explore things like transistors and Geiger counters makes perfect sense. Unfortunately, where Radio-Activity is concerned, a couple problems arise.

One, those darn experimental bits. As pieces of a concept album exploring the different aspects of radio transmissions and radiation, they’re fine, but man does it ever derail whatever musical momentum Radio-Activity has going for it. Okay, Geiger Counter is a cool opener, and The Voice Of Energy has that wicked-awesome Kraftwerk robot voice utilized for the first time. News though? Sorry, muffled German broadcasting items of the day isn’t compelling, especially following Intermission pings. And Radio Stars could have been a neat little bit of space-meditation if all those bleeps weren’t so grating.

Still, all this talk of radio activity, concepts of electromagnetic radiation, and evil-sounding robot voices, and it’s small surprise a few folks were sore at Kraftwerk’s seemingly thumbs-up for the nuclear age, potential nasty side-effects and all. Even the bouncy, chirpy tunes the group’s known for are rather absent, much of Radio-Activity cold and sterile as musique concrete of old. When our intrepid Germans do get melodic, it’s almost always melancholic (Radioland, Ohm Sweet Ohm) or ominous (Radioactivity, Uranium). Things aren’t out-and-out bleak on this album, but it sure isn’t as campy-fun as Autobahn or pop-tasty as their later work. At least Airwaves and Antenna bring a little peppy novelty for our listening consideration.

If you fear not these factors, then Radio-Activity is worth checking out. Though it’s the least essential of Kraftwerk’s Fabulous Five albums, it’s still interesting hearing the group discover their way through new ideas and gear.