Supertramp - Even in the Quietest Moments ...

Supertramp ruled the world with Breakfast in America, but for me it was, and will always be Even in the Quietest Moments that holds a special place in my heart. There are a few indelible memories that are forever tied to this album, and for that alone the album carried more emotional weight than it should. It's always been weird to me how some songs, and bands got to me in a way that really didn't make sense. My earliest memories are tied to music, and even at a young age it was the harder driving songs that got me excited. It's funny I never really got into metal, but hard rock certainly floated my boat.

Then there was Supertramp. They weren't rock ... they were and they weren't. They were though accepted in rock circles, and they pop, and progressive to a point, but they were their own thing. Through my older cousins I had heard Crime of the Century so I was aware of the band ... but it was one of those ubiquitous Friday night music shows where I first saw a stringy long haired Roger Hodgson standing on stage with his twelve string strumming out the opening chords to "Give a Little Bit" that immediately had me mesmerized. A year or two when I started learning the guitar I quickly realized I could play an A7 to D progression ... I couldn't do much more, but I could do that, and it ... was ... awesome. It was like playing Name That Tune, and I could name that tune from two notes.

I didn't have money to buy records, but I had an older friend who was in our youth group who had a lot of records, and he let me borrow Even in the Quietest Moments for a couple of days and I played it and played it and played it. It didn't mater that the album was already a couple of years old by then, it was so good.

Even as a kid I recognized the pitter patter nature of the band with the alternating of lead vocals. Built into the band's dynamic was the tension between Rick Davies and Roger Hodgson. They were very different, and although I was drawn to Roger's voice and songs, you couldn't sleep on Rick. The songs were credited as Words and Music by Rick Davies and Roger Hodgson ... but you knew that whoever sang it, wrote it. However, you got the sense they were brothers in arms. 

It's a strange thing to think that there were only seven songs on the album. When I think of the album I think of the opening track, "Give a Little Bit" and the album's magnum opus, "Fool's Overture" but the reality is there was so much more going on. I think I'll take a much closer listen the next time through.

The album's about to start (again, I just flipped it over). I'll jot down jibber jabbery notes while it plays. Some of the songs are long enough to allow me to try and be cohesive ... who am I kidding. It is what it is. Sit back, you may as well get comfortable.

The album opens with "Give a Little Bit" and honestly at the time that was all I wanted to hear. Roger was made for the '70s, and John Helliwell, who was the band's woodwind player was more often than not, the secret sauce that put things over the top. Even now I never tired or hearing this song. I will say there was no need to Goo Goo Dolls to try and cover the song. There wasn't anything they could add ... it was decent, but unnecessary.

To me Rick will always be the guy who sang "Bloody Well Right" and I always loved the grit and growl to his voice. Where Roger was sweet, Rick was a kick in the nuts and a gut punch. With "Lover Boy" there was a cheekiness that was augmented by Roger's backing vocal, but the music kept building throughout the song. It was a song that shouldn't have worked, and I've often overlooked and forgotten about it until I play the album. It's a bit of a sleeper, and Roger didn't often pull out his rock guitar, but he was a tasty player when he was let loose. Which wasn't all that often ... after all, that had to leave room for John to toot.

The title track, "Even in the Quietest Moments" is the kind of song where the band excels. This feels so huge, and full of grandeur it feels longer than it actually is. This isn't a shot, it's hard to describe how the song just seems to suspend time. At least for me I get drawn in, and even now I find I'll stop typing and just sit listening, and after a few moments come back and focus on trying to get my thoughts down. Where Roger added to backing and support to "Lover Boy" it's Rick who provides an almost hypnotic counterpoint droning backing vocal as Roger soars over the top. The picked 12 string stands out as the song resolves.

"Downstream" closes out side one, which is much more sparse and subdued. Just Rick on vocals accompanied by a piano. It almost feels like the band is just taking a breather before side two picks things up.

"Babaji" was always a song I thought I didn't like until I play it, and then I like it. I also know that once the album is over and I put it away, I'll forget that it was a good song, and I'll dismiss it again. I'm weirdly fickle that way sometimes, and have the object permanence of a squirrel. Oh well, it is what it is, and I am what I am. Besides, this is the side with "Fool's Overture" and honestly the other two songs on side two were merely a distraction and irritation that I had to get out of the way to get to the album's chewy centre ... in this case it wasn't the centre at all it was the finale, the crescendo, the showstopper.

Oh "From Now On" is up next, and despite me just saying it was needless filler that had was just in the way, I've always liked this song. It was the song that set the stage, and I suspect that's just me projecting as it's really just a simple matter of proximity. The song wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, clocking in at over six minutes the song was pretty awesome. I always loved the James Bond section with the tremolo on the guitar and then piano and thumping bass before John sets loose his saxophone in advance of the gang vocals joining the call and response on the chorus. If I didn't know what was coming up next, the album could end here, and it would still be a highlight ... except it didn't.

This. Is. It. This is the shit. Quite frankly this to me is Supertramp's finest hour ... or ten minutes and fifty one seconds. From the opening piano chords you get the feeling you're in for a treat. The opening sequence is just perfect, and as the droning synth fades out the bells and cacophony crowd noises make way for Winston Churchill's adamant "We shall never surrender" the bells continue to toll as the classic keyboard riff comes to the fore. I still remember when I first heard this, and it was one of those "What ... was ... that?" moments, that I still get when I hear this. Then the song dials everything back, and then it's simply Roger and a keyboard singing,  "History recalls how great the fall can be..." I'm sitting here with the cardboard insert reading the lyrics as the song plays. Then with the crescendo the song seems to end as the wind whistles back and forth between the speakers as a choir is heard in the distance. The song doesn't fade, the wind continues to whistle as the familiar keyboard refrain kicks in and the tension breaks. This is also where Roger name checks Spider Man, which as a kid was pretty freaking hilarious. Then all of a sudden the song ends and all that remains is an orchestra tuning up as if getting ready to start ... only to hear the needle coming up off the record signalling the end.

That. Was. Awesome.

It's still awesome.