Category: All the stuff what I like.

Continuing this series … eh hem … trip down memory lane.

What were the most influential albums I listened to growing up? Which ones made an indelible impression on me? Which would I recommend to others as “musts” from days-gone-by? My personal top ten, in no particular order–

Post two of ten: Boston

It was the summer of 1976. I was nine. And you’d find me out in our backyard, running around in red, white and blue shorts and t-shirt, clearing make-believe hurdles and throwing makeshift javelins and shot-puts, emulating the hero of the Summer Games, Bruce Jenner.

Then the whole world changed. And I’m not talking about Bruce becoming Caitlyn.

I’m talking about the first time I laid eyes on Boston’s debut album, simply titled Boston. That artwork–do you remember it? For 1976, it was far out. A fire breathing guitar spaceship. You knew from looking at the cover … this wasn’t Mom and Dad’s Roger Whitaker record! 

Then … that sound! If you experienced it in 1976, you remember that unique distortion sound Tom Scholz crafted. To this point, the world hadn’t heard anything like it.

The album opened with More Than A Feeling. And you knew immediately it was more than a feeling–this was special. The acoustic open to the electric melody … and then the harmony solos. Mind blowing.

And Brad Delp’s voice. To this day, forty-plus years on, that voice is still perhaps the best I’ve ever heard in rock-n-roll. So distinct. Peace of Mind followed. Another amazing tune. No drop off.

By this point, I’d flipped the album cover over. Do you know the very first thought that crossed my mind? No lie–I saw the dude in the middle with the big afro, Sib. I immediately thought, ‘That dude is the drummer.’ And of course, I was right. That’s what a 70s rock-n-roll drummer should look like, right?

Then Foreplay/Long Time started. Oh my! Nearly eight minutes. Foreplay was like a twisted carnival intro. That organ sound was almost haunted-house music. Foreplay ended … and that Long Time guitar melody screamed to life.

Then you flipped the vinyl. Side two was every bit as amazing as side one. There isn’t a let-down song on the record. Boston was the first album I remember playing all the way, first song to last. It was almost like you had to play them in order–they unfolded into each other.

Honestly, looking back, Boston ended my fascination with Bruce Jenner and the decathlon. I traded in my pretend javelins and shot-puts for air-guitar and drums. I wanted an afro like Sib.

Here’s the cool thing to me, looking back. Although the eighties brought more unique guitar sounds and guitar greats, there’s still never been a sound quite like it. Admit it, if you know rock-n-roll, you can pick Tom Scholz’s guitar sound out anywhere.

Never heard this album before? A great pair of noise-cancelling headphones are a must. This one will spin your head around.

I’ve recently been experiencing a bit of a rennaisance where my musical past is concerned. It’s been fun listening to songs from the 70s and 80s that were the soundtracks of my childhood and adolescence. You know how songs can take you back? This has been a fun time of recollections and remembrances–scenes, settings, people and places I’d long ago forgotten. What a trip down memory lane.

I’ve awakened to another realization along the way. Much of the music of my childhood and adolescence inspired me because of its storytelling and characters. As a writer, the characters and storylines I discovered in lyrics abide with me–as fresh when they come on a classic rock station today as when I was that imaginative kid–flying into outer-space with Elton John’s Rocketman or Bowie’s Major Tom.

This trip down memory lane has given me pause to consider: What were the most influential albums I listened to growing up? Which ones made an indelible impression on me? Which would I recommend to others as “musts” from days-gone-by?

I’ve decided to post a series–top ten albums of all time as I’d rate them from my life and experience. In no particular order, here’s a musical walk through the halls of my past.

POST ONE of TEN: Chicago Transit Authority (or Chicago I if you remember it that way)

Might as well start with a  double LP, right? I was only two when this album was released–and with it came my very young introduction to the band Chicago and rock-n-roll. My brothers–in their teens at the time–brought the album home.

I remember Terry Kath’s voice on the first track, Introduction. I remember the horns. My brothers were both horn players, so that’s likely where they became interested. Then the transition to the second song, Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? (Still one of my all-time favorite Chicago songs and referenced here.)

The characters and storylines of Does Anybody Really Know were among the first I discovered in rock music. The people passing each other on the street, all with schedules to meet … and the sadness of marching to such schedules as to miss what’s really happening all around them … informed my very young and impressionable lens of life, for sure.

And then into Beginnings. What a song! The horns, the percussion–I marveled. These are those first recollections of moving to the beat–me–tapping feet, bobbing head, air-drumming. Hard to be still. Of course, if you hear this one on classic rock stations today, they usually cut the great percussion outro out of the tune. That’s a shame.

A double album, I definitely wore out side one of record one.

Questions 67 & 68 was another eye-opener. It was the first time I heard Peter Cetera’s voice. If you only know Cetera for his post-Chicago, sappy Karate Kid ballad/anthems, you’re sorely missing out. And again, the horns. Wow!

Later tracks–and admittedly played less often as I was enthralled with the tunes mentioned above–like Prologue and Someday (both referencing political events in 1969 that I was far too young to realize the significance of) did prompt me to think about popular music as a chronicle of life’s stories.

This is an album that holds a very special place in my heart. My intro to rock-n-roll, and I couldn’t have picked a better inroad. What’s really cool is that playing the album today, I’m transported back … to four, five years old, some of my earliest life recollections. Oh, and then there’s this–I didn’t recognize it at that tender young age, I do now: What an amazing guitarist Terry Kath was. If he hadn’t died so early, I bet he’d be considered among the great guitar gods in rock-n-roll.

Go back. Take a listen. Chicago Transit Authority. This is classic rock!