Dusty Spriengfield:"Dusty in Memphis" (1969)

Already a well regarded pop singer, British blonde Dusty Springfield landed in Memphis in 1969, and the stage was set for her finest hour. Dusty In Memphis is a beautiful marriage of immaculate production work, classy string-heavy arrangements, a great band of session players, and truly wonderful vocals (by Dusty and the Sweet Inspirations, whose backing vocals bring a gospel touch to the proceedings). Considering the circumstances and production personnel (the legendary team of Jerry Wexler, Tom Dowd, and Arif Mardin), one might’ve expected this to be a gritty soul album in the grand old Atlantic/Stax tradition. Instead we get treated to an exceptional album of symphonic pop songs, and though the album didn’t sell in impressive numbers upon its release it has since been belatedly recognized as a classic of blue-eyed soul. What makes these intimate pop songs so soulful is Dusty’s ultra sexy voice; her husky, hushed tones have a naturally sad pitch that conveys a sensual sense of longing. Interpreting songs from some of the best and most sophisticated songwriters of the day, including four compositions from Gerry Goffin and Carole King, the album contains a warm, lushly layered sound that is singular in its stately elegance. I could go on and name some standout songs (“Son Of A Preacher Man” is the album’s best known song and its lone hit), but the whole album is one big highlight that should be listened to in its entirety. Out of print for some time but reissued by Rhino Records in 1992, Dusty In Memphis shows off a great singer in the right place at the right time at the peak of her powers

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CULT RECORD: THE CARS: "CANDY-O" (1979)

The Cars defined the wing of American synth-pop that wanted to brush your rock'n'roll hair. They were Lou Reed fans who cheerfully mixed glossy keyboards with rockist guitar hooks. Ric Ocasek tried laughably hard to sound jaded and ironic (" alienation is the craze," eh?), but that only made his songs of adolescent yearning sound gawkier, and therefore more accurate.
Candy-O is the Cars' stickiest synth-gunk, and their finest hour. "Let's Go" unforgettably serenades a barefoot muse with a risque mouth. Chaste young geeks pine away for hopelessly distant objects of desire in "Double Life," "Dangerous Type," and my personal favorite, "It's All I Can Do."

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CULT RECORD: PRINCE: " DIRTY MIND" (1980)

Think of him as the Picasso of pop. Recall that film of Picasso at work: just one curved river of a stroke on canvas and the artist's presence is unmistakable; a second's splash of Prince's keyboard whoopee cushioned against a syn-bass and a falsetto squeal provokes exactly the same instant recognition-- the master's line. Picasso had as acute a memory for images as Prince does for sound, both evoking predecessors and peers in grinning caricatures, more repo jobs than tributes. Both worked obsessively-- art as sex-- passing through periods that baffled followers: genius-craftsmen able to reassemble their convoluted insides externally, but without a shred of self-recognition.
The difference is that Prince is the Picasso of pop. That means the shapes he seizes on are partially public; he cannot just stay closeted in the studio. Matery here extends beyond comanding all the instuments, all the genres. It requires playing the publicity and audience games required for hit records, demonstrating musical and visual prowess in stadiums and night clubs, moving from music to music videos and musical films. Assuming the aura of reclusive celebrity and frustrated genius. Making a comeback. Ratifying it all with a box set. Working under a pseudonym, like Bowie.  Prince has done all of this, hurling himself into each public role of the pop celebrity, yet always as the arrogant, self-absorbed Picasso playing with form, not as a social actor. Sure, as Madonna's partner in the '80s deconstruction of the rock god, as a player in the fields of sex, race, sexuality, belief, and the meaning of the blues, Prince's pop had consequences. But ultimately, unlike most music in this blog, it will endure as something detached from context-- the master's line.
Dirty Minds is Prince's most stripped down tough and yet, simultaneously, most new wave album."Dirty Mind" is a pure drum-machine thud-thud-thud, with Cars synthesizers dancing around. "When You Were Mine" is perfection, so coiled in ideal rhythm chords you almost never notice what a lowslung guitar workout it is. His falsetto now a snake's tongue, outrageous porn fantasies like "Head" and "Sister" are pure cockmanship. "Partyup" sums this thirty minute vibrator ride up as " revolutionary rock and roll"; hah! Dirty Mind isn't that communal.

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