The World Won't Listen

Dark Days - Part One

Its confession time at 'The World Won't Listen' as a routeway through to my musical soul is opened. Ever since my Dire Straits post a while back I have recieved a degree of ribbing from some quarters about my musical convictions. Not that I'm complaining mind, as the pointed remarks are genuinely deserved. You can't go posting music by Dire Straits without much soul searching. Now Davy H over at The Ghost of Electricity has gone and posted an entry about the 'Wizard of Oz' inspired Toto. Hmmm, just where is all this going I wonder. Will we soon have Matthew at Song, by Toad posting Dollar? How about JC our very own Vinyl Villain revealing that number eight in his 'Great Unacknowledged Albums' series is Shakin Stevens and 'This Ole House'? Or Crash at Pretending Life is Like a Song waxing lyrical about the neo-marxist hidden messages inside 'Agadoo'?

Whatever the outcome I've decided to lay all the cards on the table and come clean. Over the next few postings I will reveal the results of a dark quest into the inner sanctum of my record collection both past and present. Namely the albums that shame me. The ones that continue to gather dust but should have been thrown out years ago. The ones that were thrown out, but their memory still clouds my soul. It will be a hard quest but a necessary one because afterwards I will be exorcised and my demons released.

So to begin:

The Alan Parsons Project - The Turn of a Friendly Card

Just what was I thinking? And to make things even worse I actually possessed three other albums at one point. I first listened to this lot when my brother got the 'Pyramid' album back in the late seventies. They were prog rock and Parsons had infamously engineered Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon' in 1973. Remember readers that this was the height of New Wave and Mr Vicar was deeply immersed in The Cure, Magazine, and The Jam. Somehow I was under the false illusion that I needed to widen my musical horizons by listening to Alan Parsons. I think in retrospect I must have been possessed as there seems to be no other plausible explanation for my foolhardiness. In fact, there may well be some credence to this statement. Parsons used to get all sorts of 'artistes' to work as guests on his albums. They included the likes of Colin "brokenhearted" Blunstone, Arthur Lee, Steve Harley and John Miles. Perhaps they were all under his spell. Needless to say that the aforesaid albums have all been consigned to the album scrapheap and are probably propping up some corner of a charity shop as I write. There I feel better already, but only by degrees as there is worse to come. Oh yes far worse!

Visit your local record fair and buy them if you dare my friends - the demons may get you as well. But as an antidote I also post something far more appetizing to your souls. The Cure and one of their greatest albums - 'Seventeen Seconds'. Released in the same year, 1980, to provided some sort of synergy.

The Cure - Play For Today (mp3)

The Cure - In Your House (mp3)

Buy The Cure right here. And if you want to make the same mistakes as the Tutu Vicar buy Alan Parsons here