blackdragon123

ESSAY III - L,I,S,T. I,T.
THE 14 BEST SUPERTRAMP TRACKS

For this piece, I will be borrowing the medium employed in my short-lived '26 Best Sabbath Tracks' to pay tribute to a band that probably sits as my second favourite of all time. Supertramp are a band I discovered in my mid-teens after watching an advert for their Retrospectacle compilation album. At the time, I was living only for heavy (ish music) and my meagre CD collection was fast collecting bands like Ozzy, Rainbow, Whitesnake and Cream. Tunes like 'Dreamer', 'Breakfast in America' and 'The Logical Song' seemed a million miles away from my tastes, but somehow, this quirky, piano heavy band with their weird moniker managed to draw me in. Since then I've had the thought that 'Capitalism may have its flaws...but if it wasn't for TV advertising, I'd never be listening to Supertramp.' (Not even Stalin could resist those melodies).

I've always felt that Supertramp were an overlooked and underrated outfit, that their place in the ever-nostalgically catalogued music of the 70s and 80s was unjustifiably uncertain. So in my own small way, I'd like to thank Rick, Roger and the lads for providing us with so much fantabulous music, and I invite you to join me as I visit the 14 best (in my humble) greatest Supertramp songs ever!

In the words of Commando's John Matrix, 'Come on, Bennett. Let's party!'

(please note that the songs are not listed in any particular order...it's just not that kind of list. Y'dig?)


1. School from Crime of the Century [1974]

You may have even raised a smile or given a chuckle, as you turned over a record with such a bold and ominous title, with the understated themes of imprisonment and yearning on the artwork and found that the opening song was simply titled 'School'. There have been countless songs about being an awkward kid, trying to survive in the cold world of school, where all of the injustices, rhetoric and hypocrisy of the adult world first becomes clear. But 'School' sounds (to me) like the one that spawned all the others. It is an absolutely timeless piece of music, that employs clever wording, deceptively muscular vocals and fluid musicianship in a way that makes it sound like it was written solely about your school-time experience (even if you loved or hated it). That is the essence of Supertramp's power; they are able to conjure such powerful images without pretence or cheap effects.
We are led into a musical lecture of fatherly advice by that haunting harmonica, and all of the raw emotions and grudges held against such unbending institutions are laid bare in just a few lines of ingenious lyrics. Perhaps unfairly, the pedestrian ‘Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)’ remains the quintessential anti-school anthem, but in this writer’s humble, it pales compared to the nostalgic majesty of ‘School’, and the line that reads:

‘After school is over, you’re playing in the park,
Don’t be out too late; don’t let it get too dark,
They tell you not to hang around and learn what life’s about,
And grow up just like them, won’t let you work it out,’

remains one of the most cuttingly apt observations in rock history.


2. From Now On from Even in the Quietest Moments... [1977]

A cinematic, springy, defiant piano riff begins this song, and although it may not seem the most obvious choice for an entry, the way that ‘From Now On’ begins with such delicate melancholy, slowly building to that anthem-chant of an outro is achieved with such sly subtlety that on first listen that you even be taken aback. The song has deep sadness to it, which is constantly offset by the bittersweet saxophone segments and plucky piano accompaniment. It tells the wavering story of a man contemplating his mediocre place in the world, as he laments that his lifestyle and career may never emerge from being comfortably mundane. Supertramp have a way of making sad lyrics sound happy, but there is a true tiredness to Davies’ singing, and the track carries the weight of depression that all people suffer at some point in their lives. What makes this song so incredibly moving is that it is played in two parts, and the first, lonely verses lead us with slowly growing intensity to that pragmatic confession of,

‘Guess I’ll always have to be,
Living in a fantasy,
That’s the way it’s got to be,
From now on,’

What stops this song from being a self-pitying drag is that inclusion of the choir of singers answering Davies’ lines. Their sudden bursting presence gives a huge buoyancy to the ending of the track, and reminds the singer and all of us that we’re not alone with our troubles, and that there’s a world beyond personal gain. It’s a brave and touching song, which probably best shows the intelligence and heart of this great band.


3. Shadow Song from Supertramp [1970]

Tramp’s debut is one that those who don’t like call ‘self-indulgent and overly instrumental’ and it’s one that those who do like call ‘prog’. The dark ambience, mood and naïve passion of this album is something to be admired, and the finest example of that is featured on ‘Shadow Song’. I fell in love with this track as soon as the line,

‘Did your shadow ever speak to you?’

was uttered. There is a murky, psychedelic atmosphere to this song that is beautifully infectious. Its lyrics are a rambling bout of confessions and insinuations about mysterious influences in the lives of its listeners. The vocals border on sinister, and produce a calming, yet wary reaction that is joyfully inconclusive. Davies may not have been at the peak of his singing ability, but ‘Shadow Song’ thrives on its lack of bombast and slickness. It can be interpreted by anyone to mean anything, but its meaning will always be draped by a suggestively mischievous singer plucking at your sub-conscious and drawing out all kinds of weird thoughts and memories. This track is maddeningly addictive, and it is a shame that it remains as part of a wrongfully ignored record. The heavy, druggy vibes dished out by this track compliment the band’s ability to synthesise nostalgia from thin air. It is deeply personal, whilst being tauntingly vague, and I will always savour swigging beers and remembering the golden years of student years with this beautiful track as my shadow.


4. Just Another Nervous Wreck from Breakfast in America [1979]

Supertramp’s most iconic record plays as more of a greatest hits compilation than a studio album, and probably stands as the most accurately representative of the scope and scale of the band’s range, from the pop-saturated ‘Breakfast in America’ to the longingly meek ‘Lord Is It Mine’ and the indifferently bitter ‘Casual Conversations’. A true standout of their end-of-the-decade album however is ‘Just Another Nervous Wreck’, which is like no other Tramp song in their canon. If the band ever had a fighting song, it’s this one.
The electric energy of ‘Nervous Wreck’ is where its power comes from. There is a sugar-rich ferocity to the delivery of the lyrics and it’s impossible to sit still whilst listening to it. The truly angry tale of a life that’s been broken apart by misfortune and lost love is one that doesn’t force itself upon you with profanity or open rage, it’s provided through the signature building of sound and ensemble throughout its duration, and lashes out with barely constrained frustration and regret. The verses are so visually strong, and the raw humanity, oozing from a band that never appears to lose its cool is alarmingly powerful, and the courageous war cry of,

‘Don’t, give a damn,
Fight, while you can,’

Never ceases to be inspire and intimidate. Any old fool could’ve written those lyrics, their content is almost irrelevant, the lashing tongue and thundering piano riff is so urgent and genuine that it becomes musical Shakespeare. It stands as an anthem for both young and old, and captures the self-hatred and outward resentment of being an angry young man in a way that so many bands, (who make a career from these kinds of songs) will never manage to achieve.


5. Crime of the Century from Crime of the Century [1974]

Oppression and tyranny is a theme that runs with seething consistency through the band’s break-away album, and all comes to a shattering conclusion with the song’s title track. The band cleverly employs a sententious phrase, used often by newspapers to describe some new scandal or abuse of justice (probably about a hundred times a century). The phrase, its meaning now lost on a generation of desensitised media consumers, becomes used to describe all of the misdeeds of men, summed up in a few choice lines that are delivered with venom and omniscience by Tramp’s cosmic master of ceremonies. As the album comes to a close, we are invited into that dark expanse of space and eternity shown on the cover art, where all the crimes of history are put on trial. The lasting impact of this track comes from its hypnotic, daunting piano riff, which drives home the minimalist observations with seismic force. The effect produced here by this song’s sense of scale is sublime, and acts as a soundtrack to the dark deeds of mankind. It signals our doom, with its sharp and concise repeating of that simple yet powerful riff. It feels as if the entire album were leading to this one pinnacle, where all the evil institutions, sinners, fools and madmen in the world finally collapse under their own weight and ‘Crime of the Century’ acts as accompaniment to their judgement and damnation. It is one the most powerful finishers to an album ever made, and never fails in leaving a lasting effect on the listener. Its drive is so unrelenting, and its ambiguity so revealing of the beholder’s own nature, that it simply refuses to be ignored. This is Supertramp at their most morally conscious level, and their most worldly wise.


6. Bonnie from "...Famous Last Words..." [1982]

The 80s signified the beginning of the end for the definitive Supertramp, and "...Famous Last Words..." has never been embraced as a part of the band’s golden era, which spanned from Crime to Breakfast, but in this fan’s humble opinion, this record provides an appropriately melancholy, and deeply mature swan song to a band that seemed to explode with creative brilliance through the 70s. The songs on Last Words are of a less youthful nature, and signify a band that is coming to terms with its fall from peak glory. This reaction actually produces a more fluid, and less individualistic tone to the songs, and ‘Bonnie’ is one of the band’s most gentle, humble and touchingly tragic songs. There is a bashful pining and a synth-driven loving to this song, and provides the listener with a view of a very exposed and vulnerable Supertramp, who always triumphed over ill-fortune with humour and optimism, but here embrace a far more pragmatic, aged approach. ‘Bonnie’ is a half-smile of a song, and approaches the subject of impossible love and loneliness in a way that rings true for a world dominated by celebrity and the constant reminder of those few unattainable pleasures. Last Words represents Tramp at their darkest, and although ‘Bonnie’’s sinister narrative is masked by a vocal sincerity, we are given an example of how the band’s power to contradict dark lyrics with innocent, upbeat vocals can be used to beguile and even upset us. It takes closer inspection to learn that ‘Bonnie’ is about an obsessed fan, who may even be a stalker, but Davies’ ever-versatile voice fools us temporarily into sympathising with the figures in society we would naturally despise. It remains an underrated piece, from a fantastic album.


7. Even in the Quietest Moments from Even in the Quietest Moments... [1977]

Moments, as its title suggests is an album made of moments. It lacks the consistency of Breakfast and the overall atmosphere of Crisis? but it is blessed with a few fantastic pieces of music, that stand head and shoulders above the rest. The band embark on a spiritual journey in ‘Moments’ and the pervading sounds of singing birds, leading into an acoustic and clarinet intro manages to conjure the fresh, spring feeling in an almost Eden-like setting, with the simple tools of Beatles-esque vocals and hypnotising drum-beats. It is a song that calms the entire record down amongst the heavily-produced, more aggressive pieces like ‘Babaji’ and ‘Lover Boy’ and has a real enlightenment to it, allowing the hippie sympathies of the band to chant their way through in the song’s repeated chorus. Standing in contrast to the snowed-under, wintery artwork of the album, it’s impossible not to feel refreshed after hearing this track, and one can only wish that they could’ve crafted an entire album based around this casually brilliant, nearly religious sounding vibe. There’s a feel that the peace-loving, West Coast values of bands like Jefferson Airplane have been filtered through the understated British charm of Supertramp to create something disarming and inspiring. Supertramp are seldom earnest (they just trick you into thinking they are), and their cheeriness is usually almost accompanied by bitterness, but ‘Moments’ is the band breaking that tradition, and demonstrating that they don’t always need to rely on sharp wit and neurotic narratives in order to form a great song. Moments may be a flawed album, but ‘Moments’ is a moment that makes up for it twofold. If you don’t find yourself unwound by its message then you may be missing a soul.

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__________________
'Well, I'm a common working man,
With a half of bitter, bread and jam,
And if it pleases me, I'll put one on ya man,
When the copper fades away!' - Jethro Tull