Fun in Space / Strange Frontier analysis
Sept 5, 2021 15:40:48 GMT
BrƎИsꓘi, deathtoming, and 20 more like this
Post by The Real Wizard on Sept 5, 2021 15:40:48 GMT
I recently revisited Roger Taylor's first two solo albums. They are pieces of music history that have barely been spoken about since they came out, and this thread aims to rectify that at least a little bit.
Fun in Space and Strange Frontier came out in the early- to mid-'80s when Queen were one of the biggest bands in the world, and apart from a Top of the Pops appearance and some moderate radio airplay of a couple singles, they soon disappeared without a trace. I'm going to argue that this turn of events is absolutely tragic. By the end of this piece I'm pretty sure you'll agree.
In April 1981 Roger Taylor became the first member of Queen to drop a solo album - Fun in Space. Like few of his peers he wrote and played pretty well every part, as he's a more than capable multi-instrumentalist. I found side one to be mostly solid, save for Let's Get Crazy which sounds like an undeveloped idea. But the great tracks stand out. The energetic driving beat of No Violins is infectious, and it is cleverly textured throughout. The sentimental Laugh Or Cry is gorgeous yet sombre, complete with an emotive guitar solo with phrasing that would make Clapton raise an eyebrow.
But on this listen it was Good Times Are Now that stood atop the rest. Musically it's similar to No Violins, but the subject matter is far more meaningful. Roger is often conversational in his lyrics, and rarely is he more down to earth and relatable than he is here:
"I had to take a chance 'cause special moments only tend to happen now and then"
Point blank, this is one of the best hooks I've ever heard. The syncopation of those words almost implies the urgency of needing to seize those rare moments when they present themselves. He goes on:
"Live for the present, it's the only one we have
Nobody gets out of here alive
Life in the future might never come to pass
You know good times are now"
Clichés they may be, but somehow he gets away with it and makes you feel like you're hearing such universal messages for the first time. The ensuing guitar solo in the middle sounds very similar to Coming Soon off The Game - but Good Times Are Now is considerably better because it actually has something to say. And it's this genuine sense of character that would permeate his next long player from start to finish.
In fan polls people regularly rate the Roger tracks on the Queen albums from 1978-82 as their least favourites of the era, and with good reason - I'm now fairly certain he was holding back his strongest material for his solo album, as the best tracks on Fun in Space are leaps and bounds better.
My Country tops any of his output on Jazz, The Game, or Hot Space. But it's understandable that it didn't end up on a Queen album, because it was too blunt and opinionated. It's a crying shame in hindsight, as the change in tempo and timbre when the gated drums kick in is no less effective than In The Air Tonight. It also has one of the top vocal performances of Roger's career, easily on par with any of the most lauded rock vocals of all time. This should be known as one of the great war protest songs, but sometimes the world isn't so just. For any number of reasons, great art often falls through the cracks. My Country is one of those casualties.
As side two progresses it gets a bit weak, although the title track is a unique and Eno-esque ambient new wave science fiction workout. Queen's famed "no synthesizers" label had gone the way of the Dodo the previous year, which Roger even made fun of in the liner notes. For this track alone he unquestionably wins the race for the first member of Queen to find their identity outside of the confines of the band.
I give the album 3 1/2 stars. Ultimately about half of it is fantastic, which would be the case for the bulk of Roger's albums going forward.
Except for Strange Frontier.
Fun in Space has a few individually better songs and moments, but Strange Frontier is more consistent and cohesive. There's no one song that sticks out. It's not quite a concept album, but there's a uniformity to it and every track is part of the greater whole. And the running order is key.
"We're off the tracks, we're off the lines
You and me have seen better times
Now we're on the borderline and I wish I wasn't here"
A half minute into the album we're clearly hearing a far more developed artist.
"We're trapped inside these dangerous times"
The title track lays the groundwork for the nine-part story to follow, and Beautiful Dreams starts to get more specific. He speaks to the reality and ease of having dreams come true as children, but that later in life we need drugs (a secret world of "chemical dreams") to achieve the same state of bliss. But there's no solution except "nuclear purity," which is an idea very much of its time as the early '80s were the peak of the Cold War. There isn't a solution, so nuke us all. "This is the final twilight; this is the final cure, it seems." All delivered in ethereal and soaring melodies. Chilling.
It segues into Man on Fire, where his more optimistic side is on display. It's almost certainly the most accessible piece on the album, but this upbeat feeling dwindles from here onward.
In his 1951 book New Hopes for a Changing World, Bertrand Russell stated how "One of the painful things about our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision." So many of us start becoming cynical by our 30s as certain realities of life expose themselves, and these themes of doubt, frustration, and pessimism permeate the album as Roger's disillusion has started to set in (a few years of Thatcherism didn't hurt, either). In more recent years it's pretty clear he eventually said "fuck it" and decided to have fun with his life. Who can blame him?
Even the cover tunes fit the concept. Racing in the Street and Masters of War are both excellent examples of making an existing song one's own. He'd achieve the same with Working Class Hero a lifetime later.
The interlude of Killing Time is a marvellous sonic experience. "Dreams go by just killing time." He's fixated on dreams again, but this time in a different context - being consciously aware of it instead of escaping it.
"We're treading the same old wheel
Killing what they can't steal
Smile but we just don't feel"
Who would've thought the guy who wrote I'm In Love With My Car could come up with something this... real?
"Tears of heartache, tears of rage from living in a tiring age" declares Roger in Abandonfire. He's a rhyming couplet type of writer, and he's rarely been better than on that line. If you want to see inside this man's soul, it's all over this album.
But he remains briefly hopeful:
"Listen to the rhythms of the city life
Listen to the rhythms of your soul
Listen to the rustling in the undergrowth
Follow in their footsteps to your goal"
Almost like it represents the inner ping-pong match of persevering vs. giving up. Brilliant.
On the surface Young Love is an innocent and nostalgic piece, but amidst the overall narrative it comes across as wistful.
"This is your life, this is your age"
A typical call to arms, but it is short-lived:
"You've seen it before
Like your mum and your dad
They're dying each day
Living a lie that's so sad"
He's saying young love is precisely that - for the young. Reality soon sets in. It's messy. Give Deep Deep Feeling from McCartney III a gander. These guys know what they're talking about.
"Nobody sees this American dream just fading away, it's a complete waste of time, just a nursery rhyme"
It seems obvious now, but in the '80s this idea was slowly emerging. Neil Peart nailed it on Between The Wheels, and Roger Taylor nails it on It's An Illusion - although with much less subtlety, because Roger Taylor doesn't do subtle. His heart is on his sleeve, always.
"Our reason is fading away"
A 1979 US postage stamp sported the phrase "fueled by truth and reason." But by the '80s that veneer was starting to get peeled back.
It all comes together with the last track, I Cry for You.
"I hope you're fine, I hope all's well, give 'em hell
Given time hope springs eternal."
Once again, he doesn't sit in his happy place for long enough, as this isn't an album designed to bring comfort. It questions it, constantly.
"Life has no fun anymore
Time is on the run for sure"
Again, he oscillates between optimism and anything but.
"Who finds conclusions with love, hope, and confusion?"
A far cry from the man who wrote throwaways like Let's Get Crazy and Fun It a few years earlier, innit?
And who exactly is he crying for? Himself? The world?
Next time one of us meets him, ask him. He's touring solo next month for the first time in decades - now's your chance. He'll be flattered that you even know the songs - trust me. The greatest gift you can give an artist is your time, and to take the time to ask him about his feelings goes a country mile longer than "I first heard your music in year X," "I lost my virginity to song Y," or "can you sign this for me?"
It's criminal that this music isn't more well-known. But alas this is what happens when you're second fiddle to the greatest frontman of all time. Your music doesn't get the distribution it deserves.
At the time he insisted Strange Frontier is far better than its predecessor, and as much as it can be reduced to PR to market his current project, he was right. It's a manifesto to its time and timeless all at once, because it's just as much about the universal human condition as it was about the state of the world in 1984.
Musically it's largely dated like so many albums of its time, but persevere with it and peel away the layers. Lyrically it is a masterpiece. A coming of age. He may not be Springsteen or Dylan, but here he gets remarkably close. 4 1/2 stars.
I didn't get any of this when I was 18. But I sure get it now. Thanks, Rog.
Fun in Space and Strange Frontier came out in the early- to mid-'80s when Queen were one of the biggest bands in the world, and apart from a Top of the Pops appearance and some moderate radio airplay of a couple singles, they soon disappeared without a trace. I'm going to argue that this turn of events is absolutely tragic. By the end of this piece I'm pretty sure you'll agree.
In April 1981 Roger Taylor became the first member of Queen to drop a solo album - Fun in Space. Like few of his peers he wrote and played pretty well every part, as he's a more than capable multi-instrumentalist. I found side one to be mostly solid, save for Let's Get Crazy which sounds like an undeveloped idea. But the great tracks stand out. The energetic driving beat of No Violins is infectious, and it is cleverly textured throughout. The sentimental Laugh Or Cry is gorgeous yet sombre, complete with an emotive guitar solo with phrasing that would make Clapton raise an eyebrow.
But on this listen it was Good Times Are Now that stood atop the rest. Musically it's similar to No Violins, but the subject matter is far more meaningful. Roger is often conversational in his lyrics, and rarely is he more down to earth and relatable than he is here:
"I had to take a chance 'cause special moments only tend to happen now and then"
Point blank, this is one of the best hooks I've ever heard. The syncopation of those words almost implies the urgency of needing to seize those rare moments when they present themselves. He goes on:
"Live for the present, it's the only one we have
Nobody gets out of here alive
Life in the future might never come to pass
You know good times are now"
Clichés they may be, but somehow he gets away with it and makes you feel like you're hearing such universal messages for the first time. The ensuing guitar solo in the middle sounds very similar to Coming Soon off The Game - but Good Times Are Now is considerably better because it actually has something to say. And it's this genuine sense of character that would permeate his next long player from start to finish.
In fan polls people regularly rate the Roger tracks on the Queen albums from 1978-82 as their least favourites of the era, and with good reason - I'm now fairly certain he was holding back his strongest material for his solo album, as the best tracks on Fun in Space are leaps and bounds better.
My Country tops any of his output on Jazz, The Game, or Hot Space. But it's understandable that it didn't end up on a Queen album, because it was too blunt and opinionated. It's a crying shame in hindsight, as the change in tempo and timbre when the gated drums kick in is no less effective than In The Air Tonight. It also has one of the top vocal performances of Roger's career, easily on par with any of the most lauded rock vocals of all time. This should be known as one of the great war protest songs, but sometimes the world isn't so just. For any number of reasons, great art often falls through the cracks. My Country is one of those casualties.
As side two progresses it gets a bit weak, although the title track is a unique and Eno-esque ambient new wave science fiction workout. Queen's famed "no synthesizers" label had gone the way of the Dodo the previous year, which Roger even made fun of in the liner notes. For this track alone he unquestionably wins the race for the first member of Queen to find their identity outside of the confines of the band.
I give the album 3 1/2 stars. Ultimately about half of it is fantastic, which would be the case for the bulk of Roger's albums going forward.
Except for Strange Frontier.
Fun in Space has a few individually better songs and moments, but Strange Frontier is more consistent and cohesive. There's no one song that sticks out. It's not quite a concept album, but there's a uniformity to it and every track is part of the greater whole. And the running order is key.
"We're off the tracks, we're off the lines
You and me have seen better times
Now we're on the borderline and I wish I wasn't here"
A half minute into the album we're clearly hearing a far more developed artist.
"We're trapped inside these dangerous times"
The title track lays the groundwork for the nine-part story to follow, and Beautiful Dreams starts to get more specific. He speaks to the reality and ease of having dreams come true as children, but that later in life we need drugs (a secret world of "chemical dreams") to achieve the same state of bliss. But there's no solution except "nuclear purity," which is an idea very much of its time as the early '80s were the peak of the Cold War. There isn't a solution, so nuke us all. "This is the final twilight; this is the final cure, it seems." All delivered in ethereal and soaring melodies. Chilling.
It segues into Man on Fire, where his more optimistic side is on display. It's almost certainly the most accessible piece on the album, but this upbeat feeling dwindles from here onward.
In his 1951 book New Hopes for a Changing World, Bertrand Russell stated how "One of the painful things about our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision." So many of us start becoming cynical by our 30s as certain realities of life expose themselves, and these themes of doubt, frustration, and pessimism permeate the album as Roger's disillusion has started to set in (a few years of Thatcherism didn't hurt, either). In more recent years it's pretty clear he eventually said "fuck it" and decided to have fun with his life. Who can blame him?
Even the cover tunes fit the concept. Racing in the Street and Masters of War are both excellent examples of making an existing song one's own. He'd achieve the same with Working Class Hero a lifetime later.
The interlude of Killing Time is a marvellous sonic experience. "Dreams go by just killing time." He's fixated on dreams again, but this time in a different context - being consciously aware of it instead of escaping it.
"We're treading the same old wheel
Killing what they can't steal
Smile but we just don't feel"
Who would've thought the guy who wrote I'm In Love With My Car could come up with something this... real?
"Tears of heartache, tears of rage from living in a tiring age" declares Roger in Abandonfire. He's a rhyming couplet type of writer, and he's rarely been better than on that line. If you want to see inside this man's soul, it's all over this album.
But he remains briefly hopeful:
"Listen to the rhythms of the city life
Listen to the rhythms of your soul
Listen to the rustling in the undergrowth
Follow in their footsteps to your goal"
Almost like it represents the inner ping-pong match of persevering vs. giving up. Brilliant.
On the surface Young Love is an innocent and nostalgic piece, but amidst the overall narrative it comes across as wistful.
"This is your life, this is your age"
A typical call to arms, but it is short-lived:
"You've seen it before
Like your mum and your dad
They're dying each day
Living a lie that's so sad"
He's saying young love is precisely that - for the young. Reality soon sets in. It's messy. Give Deep Deep Feeling from McCartney III a gander. These guys know what they're talking about.
"Nobody sees this American dream just fading away, it's a complete waste of time, just a nursery rhyme"
It seems obvious now, but in the '80s this idea was slowly emerging. Neil Peart nailed it on Between The Wheels, and Roger Taylor nails it on It's An Illusion - although with much less subtlety, because Roger Taylor doesn't do subtle. His heart is on his sleeve, always.
"Our reason is fading away"
A 1979 US postage stamp sported the phrase "fueled by truth and reason." But by the '80s that veneer was starting to get peeled back.
"I hope you're fine, I hope all's well, give 'em hell
Given time hope springs eternal."
Once again, he doesn't sit in his happy place for long enough, as this isn't an album designed to bring comfort. It questions it, constantly.
"Life has no fun anymore
Time is on the run for sure"
Again, he oscillates between optimism and anything but.
"Who finds conclusions with love, hope, and confusion?"
A far cry from the man who wrote throwaways like Let's Get Crazy and Fun It a few years earlier, innit?
And who exactly is he crying for? Himself? The world?
Next time one of us meets him, ask him. He's touring solo next month for the first time in decades - now's your chance. He'll be flattered that you even know the songs - trust me. The greatest gift you can give an artist is your time, and to take the time to ask him about his feelings goes a country mile longer than "I first heard your music in year X," "I lost my virginity to song Y," or "can you sign this for me?"
It's criminal that this music isn't more well-known. But alas this is what happens when you're second fiddle to the greatest frontman of all time. Your music doesn't get the distribution it deserves.
At the time he insisted Strange Frontier is far better than its predecessor, and as much as it can be reduced to PR to market his current project, he was right. It's a manifesto to its time and timeless all at once, because it's just as much about the universal human condition as it was about the state of the world in 1984.
Musically it's largely dated like so many albums of its time, but persevere with it and peel away the layers. Lyrically it is a masterpiece. A coming of age. He may not be Springsteen or Dylan, but here he gets remarkably close. 4 1/2 stars.
I didn't get any of this when I was 18. But I sure get it now. Thanks, Rog.
