On his third solo effort in 1985, Robert Plant pulled out all the stops, loaded up the synthecheesisizer, threw in a kitchen sink, and pressed record. It's funny how, at the time, Robert Plant seemed like some old dude who'd been around forever and was enjoying a career resurgence with his solo career. He was re-inventing himself as an artist who took chances and wasn't afraid to embrace new trends.
His previous album, The Principle of Moments from 1983, had some killer songs on the radio that I liked and found irritating at the same time. Oddly enough, when the Honeydrippers EP dropped, it was massive, and there was something endearing about "Sea of Love." This seemed to earn him a lot of goodwill with me, because when Shaken 'n' Stirred came out, I was intrigued by the video for "Little by Little" and really enjoyed the song.
My old roommate Otto and I had pretty similar tastes in music, and he bought the CD. I think I played it once, dismissed it as a steaming pile of shit, and didn't really think of it again for many years. Fast forward many more years, and the trilogy of Robert Plant albums featuring guitarist Robbie Blunt have recently found their way into my vinyl collection - and they weren't dollar-bin finds. I sought them out. Some were in better condition than others, but they were all decent, and a very nice addition to my collection.
This isn't my favourite of the albums, but is probably the one that took the most chances, failed more than it succeeded, and is the one that I still can't quite get my head around.
Looking back now, you forget how young Robert Plant was in the '80s. He was still in his prime, looking for ways to be creative and not simply be "that" guy who was in Led Zeppelin. With Shaken 'n' Stirred, he was pushing the boundaries of rock and utilizing technology as a sensory enhancer. Probably one of the weirder moments was the deliberately over-the-top "Too Loud," which for four minutes tries - and succeeds admirably - at being one of the most irritating pieces of music you'll ever hear. It really defines the spirit of the entire album.
This was probably a lot more fun to write and record than it is to listen to. The first side especially seems to relish trying to be unlistenable and seeing how much the listener will bear before giving up. There is a reward if you persevere. The last cut on the first side, "Pink and Black," is the balance between the noise and cacophony of the earlier tracks and the rock edge Plant can deliver.
Once you turn the record over, the second side opens with "Little By Little," and I'm immediately transported back in time. I'm bobbing my head and tapping my foot. Funny how time is. I remember thinking the riff was reminiscent of Talking Heads' "Once in a Lifetime" from Stop Making Sense, and listening to it now, I sort of hear it - but it's not the same at all. Maybe it's the mood or the feel. Who knows.
The rest of the album, while more accessible than most of the first side, is okay but doesn't really stick the landing. "Sixes and Sevens" is good, though - really good - and a solid way to close out the album.
It's interesting that at this stage in his career, Robert Plant was confident enough to still chase his muse and not merely rest on his laurels and repeat himself. For that alone, I'm pretty happy having this in my collection.
The repeated listens have merely served to emphasize the songs I already liked, although others are starting to appeal to me. The rest are sort of a conundrum, and I'll likely give this another spin or two just to see if I can finally crack this one. Probably won't happen, but I'm still game to try.
It's not like Mister Plant was trying to hide his intent with the listener. He did call the album Shaken 'n' Stirred - he did both.
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