When I think of this album I think of two songs, which happen to be the one-two punch that kicks off side one. The title track, with the awesome stick work by Dennis Pendrith, and "Candy Man's Gone," a song so good that it still stops me in my tracks. When Mister Cockburn had a mind to, he could craft one hell of a pop song that had some real bite to the lyrics. There were no baby baby songs here. This was heavy stuff that you needed to sit and read as you listened.
I'll be the first to admit that I like the shiny objects and the pretty music with a hook. For Bruce, it seemed like he relished setting the hook early and then seeing how much he could get away with before he lost the fish. In keeping with that analogy, I'll freely admit that once I'd tasted the worm on those first two cuts, the nearly eight minutes of near-spoken-word poetry over musical dissonance that was the challenging "Hoop Dancer" would more often than not lose me. I have no idea what it's about, but my goodness, it was earnest and wonderfully crafted ... and I still don't really like it, but it is a wee bit of art.
What would a Bruce Cockburn album be if it didn't nearly collapse under the serious musical hubris of an artists' artist and a guy who walked the walk and talked the talk? I know this sounds like I'm shitting on Bruce, but I'm not. Even listening to this, I feel intimidated and intellectually stunted. I feel like a little kid who accidentally got seated at the adult table at Thanksgiving and everyone is talking about grown-up stuff, and all I want to talk about are guitar solos.
So no, I'm not shitting on Bruce ... I'm in awe of Bruce, but I also don't care for some of the music. Thankfully he'll throw in enough "pretty" pop songs to appease the Luddites like me who buy records.
Thank you, Bruce.
As you can tell, I'm going to spend the rest of my time skimming along the surface and praising the album for the songs that meant a lot to me over forty years ago. When I dropped the needle, the opening to "The Trouble with Normal" just transported me back in time. I was 20 and this was fresh and new, and it was so good. It was the song that made me want to buy the album, and as I played it I was looking for the next pop masterpiece. I didn't have to wait long for "Candy Man's Gone," and that would have been enough for me. There were more, though. "Tropic Moon" was yet another weighty pop song. I wasn't used to music like this.
The songs that resonated all those years ago still get me in the feels, and the songs I didn't spend as much time with mean more to me now with the passage of time. The album still sounds great, and even the songs I found more challenging in my youth have a sonic punch that'll still take your breath away. Bruce was (is) a master player, and the band is no less adept.
I'd forgotten how haunting the closing track "Planet of the Clowns" was. If I'd remembered before I'd dropped the needle, it would have been top of mind. It wasn't, and as it played, deep and forgotten memories were exhumed. It's a poignant piece. If I'm being honest, it's probably the favourite revelation as I revisited the album. Lyrically, I'm not sure how to take the song. It reads like a lament and it seems like everything is pointless, and in the end we all walk on the same beach and no one escapes getting a soaker.
I suppose that really is the trouble with normal ... it always gets worse.
Oh, by the way, Mister Cockburn, thank you for expanding my musical horizons. I may not have always appreciated what you did, but I did listen. I just didn't always get it. I still don't, but I'm trying. Oh, on the plus side, I loved your guitar solo on "Tropic Moon" — way to rip it up.
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