I have fired
my alphabetizer.
Despite the fact
that when these
albums were brand
new, I bought only
the first two, both
masterpieces in
the blend between
new wave and top
40 rock. Could there
be a more perfect
debut album, for
example, a record
where nearly every
track became a single,
or at least, got radio action?
I’m hard pressed to
think of another more
successful debut.
For some reason,
decades later, I thought
I needed a more
complete education
in The Cars and I got this
box containing the first
six albums, four of which
I’d never owned or listened
to from start to finish.
Candy-O sounds every bit
as brilliant to me today
as it did then, more nerdy
and new wavey than
the debut, just the way
I liked it. Panorama is mostly
misses, a really silly record.
I mean, how do
you top two brilliant
albums in a row? I know,
bands have done it.
Cheap Trick did it.
The Cars did not do it.
Shake It Up is a step up,
two hits right out of
the gate on side one,
but this record finds
The Cars in relatively
safe creative waters.
Side two is pretty sleepy.
After that clumsy third
album, the weirdness
demon was exorcised out
of the band, willingly or
not, it’s hard to say, but
I think it paid off for them,
as both Shake It Up and
Heartbeat City were hits,
but as a listener, as a fan
I’d rather have a
weird album than one
laden with top 40 tunes,
although
sometimes those two
elements converge,
the reason I think those
first two albums remain
the best of the box.
Heartbeat City smells most
like the 80’s, and not in
a good way. The best 80’s
albums, like any album from
any era, I suppose, are
the ones that can’t be
dated by dumb drum sounds
and silly synth samples.
And what a contrast
between the first two
singles, right next to
each other on side one,
the ridiculously silly
“Uh oh, it’s magic,” followed
by what is likely the best
song by the band, “Drive,”
a beautiful song that survives
it’s dated production.
From the opening salvo,
Door to Door sounds like
a return to form; it’s weird,
nutty, and the drums sound
like real drums. Almost
immediately, though, we’re
back inside safe waters,
tuneful, yeah, but trying
so hard to be commercial,
then we’re heavy, almost
hair-bandy, and that’s no good,
but then our faith is restored
by a slow-burn uber-chill
ballad, followed by a kind
of country two-step. A couple
of songs on side two rival
the softest rock of the 70’s,
and then the album closes
with what I could only
describe as punk speed metal.
Holy cow, if I didn’t know better,
I’d think they were just
throwing spaghetti at
the wall to see what would
stick. I prefer this, actually.
I’d like it even better
if the songs were stronger.
My final assessment is
that I wish The Cars had
been a band that got
better over time, but I don’t
think they did. Their career
was an arc from the inspired,
inventive, oddball, iconoclastic,
directly to the middle of the road.
Not bad, just not that great.
Notes on the vinyl editions: The Elektra Years, 1978-1987, Rhino Records, 2016, each of the six albums on a different colored vinyl. These are strong pressings, they sound good, hardly any noise artifacts.
If you are joining me for the first time, I am attempting to listen to all of my records in alphabetical order by artist and then to write a poem-like-thing for each songwriter or band represented there.
michael jarmer 