My Top 20 albums from 1980 No 18

PETER GABRIEL (III)

Year Of Release: 1980

Pure psychological thrill, plus some dance and some politics - Pete wants to be Roger Waters, Joan Baez and Phil Collins all at once.
Best song: BIKO. Maybe INTRUDER. Maybe none, as it often goes with masterpieces

Track listing: 1) Intruder; 2) No Self Control; 3) Start; 4) I Don't Remember; 5) Family Snapshot; 6) And Through The Wire; 7) Games Without Frontiers; 8) Not One Of Us; 9) Lead A Normal Life; 10) Biko.

'Melt'. Peter's finest hour as a solo artist on this planet. At least, that's how the critics raved about this one, and for once, I have no arguments for the contrary. Dark. Ominous. Innovative. Catchy. Scary. Eerie. Tender and caring. And above all - clever, clever and clever. There are no signs of improvisation or hasty decisions anywhere: everything is meticulously calculated, planned down, pinned down and categorized, in the best tradition of Pink Floyd. That's probably why the closest analogy I could draw is The Wall - only that album, while maybe musically it could score a wee bit higher, was nowhere near as deep, intriguing and hard-hitting. I mean, Roger Waters is a good dude, but in comparison with Gabriel he's, well, much too ordinary, if you get my drift. It's also much easier to get into Waters than into Gabriel, but once you got into Gabriel, Waters can safely fly out the door...
Anyway, let's not get carried away by the analogies. This record features a series of 'firsts' for Peter. Namely, it was the first record on the cover of which he had short hair. It's also the first record where he extensively used drum machines - and in fact, it was one of the first records, if not the first record, with drum machines ever. As far as I know, it boasts the first appearance of cymbal-less drums on an album, pioneered by Peter and Phil Collins who was helping him on the drums at that time. Finally, it's Peter's first real serious 'psycho' album - from now on, his musical identity was shaped by songs like 'Intruder' or 'Family Snapshot', with old fairy tales and curious pop excursions left far behind. Not that the album is indeed as 'spooky' as it is often depicted: I could safely play 'Intruder' in the dark without feeling afraid, and I'm a very jittery person. But somehow, someway, Peter manages to find the right buttons, and he keeps pressing them throughout...
'Intruder' welcomes us into the new, bright, freshly polished planet of Peter Gabriel with defiantly loud, booming drums, unsettling synthesizer grunts and war cries of 'Hey hey hey hey', whereas Peter calmly proceeds to explain to you how he 'knows something about opening windows and doors'. I do not think that the song is about a real burglar (that would be too easy) - it's certainly a metaphor for fear and angst, and it works - the song can chill you to the bone, if you're an impressive type. And how can you forget that beat? But if it's too slow and ominous for you, then on the next one, 'No Self Control', Peter goes for a faster groove, this time impersonating a desperate, fidgety character who doesn't know how to stop - and finally falls into total insanity in 'I Don't Remember', a fast, gurgling, synthesized rocker that's meant to signify paranoia, what with all those murky synth noises and Peter's frantic howling in the beginning.
Paranoia's the main theme on 'Family Snapshot', too - an introspective, piano-drenched 'ballad' about a kid who thinks of himself as attempting to assassinate the president, until he comes to his senses, realizes that he's 'growing up sad' and decides to practice his skills on Mom and Dad instead. I think somebody ought to write a thesis on that song, it deserves it - and, thrilled by the lyrics, I even forget the fact that there's practically no melody at all, just mood and (sometimes) rhythm. But who cares? The lyrics are so intriguing!
And it's not true that the album lacks catchiness at all. 'And Through The Wire', for instance, is a tight, cleverly constructed pop song with a clearly identifiable hook - the way Peter screams that 'and through the wiiiiire' line all the time is certainly impressive. And what about the chorus in 'Games Without Frontieres'? The one where Kate Bush sings backup vocals and she needs to sing 'Jeux sans frontieres' but only manages something which I can only identify as 'She's so funky'? Her French leaves a lot to be desired, of course, but it's still soooo moody. And 'Not One Of Us'? Well, that one's catchy as hell! It seems to be a desperate scream of social protest, only addressed not from the minority to the majority, as is the usual pattern, but from the majority to the minority ('You're not one of us, no, no, not one of us'), and it works, it works, it works! It's a good one! Shucks, there are no bad songs at all on this album. Well, I'm not particularly fond of the nearly instrumental 'Lead A Normal Life', because it leads nowhere (apart from these breathtaking synth burps at the end), but hey, one so-so song on such an album is nothing serious. And in compensation, you get 'Biko', Gabriel's famous political rant about some dead African leader. So famous, in fact, that it was even covered by Joan Baez. I mean, it's no serious compliment, because Joan Baez would probably cover a techno tune if the lyrics dealt with some political protest, but it's intriguing, at least. And the song is really good - in fact, it was Peter's first serious flirtation with the 'world beat' (he even incorporated some tribal chants into the song). It also feels warm and heartfelt, as if he really cared. I know he did, and, in fact, Peter is one of the main musical 'preservationists' in the world, with a serious passion for all the ethnic stuff. I couldn't understand him better. Keep up the good work, Peter! And thanks for this album, one of the best post-Seventies records and evidence enough that rock music wasn't yet fully dead in 1980. Now if only drum machines didn't prove to be such horrendous influences in the end...