The Cavern
Rock & Words
SHEET MUSIC (10cc, 1974)
Artist: 10cc (D+)
Recording Date: 1974
Release Date: May 1974
Record Label: UK
Producer: 10cc
Rating: 8.5
Era: The Great Transition (1970-1979)
Subgenre: Art Rock
Best song: The Wall Street Shuffle and Silly Love
Songs: 1) The Wall Street Shuffle; 2) The Worst Band In The World; 3) Hotel; 4) Old Wild Men; 5) Clockwork Creep; 6) Silly Love; 7) Somewhere In Hollywood; 8) Baron Samedi; 9) The Sacro-Iliac; 10) Oh Effendi.
What can you expect from an album whose title is a triple play on words: Sheet Music (the yellow sheet music on the cover), Sheet Music (musical score), and Shit Music?
It's most likely something 10cc made! Back then, only a select few, like them and other unhinged geniuses such as Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, dared to release works that so boldly challenged song structures and the conventions established by the mainstream and the music industry.
If their debut album was characterized by anything, it was its devilishly effective eclecticism and rich variety of sounds within each track. Sheet Music continues down the same path—if there is one—and even takes it further. This second album is so full of exotic and disparate sounds that it feels like a different band with each song, and likewise, it seems like a different band from the one we encountered on their first album.
The reason for the lower rating compared to their previous album is that, despite the tremendous diversity of genres and sounds, they somehow managed to deliver a very cohesive record and sound like a true band, whereas Sheet Music feels more like a collage of individual sounds and efforts, or rather, duo efforts, since 10cc was composed of two songwriting pairs: the melodic one (Eric Stewart and Graham Gouldman) and the experimental one (Lol Creme and Kevin Godley). It's clear who did what and who composed what, and this works slightly against the final result, as it ends up being an album that's too extravagant even by 10cc's standards.
It's perhaps their most difficult album to digest, because, as I mentioned, it's a scattered, strange work, not as accessible as its predecessor. But once you manage to overcome that barrier of eccentricity, bizarreness, and dark humor erected by these four madmen, you realize that Sheet Music is actually brimming with excellent pop tracks and melodic hooks carefully blended with prog and avant-garde elements, as well as cinematic components in the songs' narratives, resulting in superb tracks.
When it comes to 10cc, I often insist on using the term "Progressive Pop," and Sheet Music is the very definition of this rather contradictory term. The reason? Just listen to any of their songs: you'll start by hearing a pleasant melody that will make you think it's just another pop song. When you least expect it, an arrangement or instrument will enter that changes everything; the song will mutate, take a 180-degree turn, and a completely different melody will burst in without warning. Just as you start to get used to this new melody, those shameless bastards will repeat the process and force-feed you a completely different tune that will bury the previous one without a second thought. After all, why cram one big, catchy tune into a song when you can include four or five? All of this will happen in a span of three to four minutes. Five at most.
The first of these assaults on sanity is called The Wall Street Shuffle, which is actually the most conventional and least bizarre track of the bunch. It's a kind of 10cc meets Led Zeppelin, mainly due to that crushing riff that sounds like it could have been composed by the likes of Page or Keith Richards, and which they would be proud of. It's a hard-rock track through and through, but the 10cc touch comes from those subtle piano flourishes courtesy of Stewart, who, not content with providing the vocals, also handles the guitar riffs and solos. In other words, the song basically belongs to him. Of the accessible and melodic songs on the album, it's definitely my favorite. “I bet you'd sell your mother… you can buy another one! / Ohh, Howard Hughes, did your money make you better? Are you waiting for the moment you can screw me over, because you're big enough?”
The lyrics are a gem in themselves. In fact, most of the lyrics on Sheet Music are, as is the case with The Worst Band In The World, which is worthwhile from the title alone. "It's one thing to know it, but another to admit it: we're the worst band in the world, but we don't give a..." These are the lines that welcome us. Creme's writing style is immediately apparent, both in the humor of the lyrics and the story it tells, as well as in the experimental composition. It recounts the adventures of a band—of course—a rock and roll band that tastes the sweetness of success and fame, although deep down the members know they are the worst band in the world and don't deserve all the fuss. The narrator's perspective abruptly shifts to that of a vinyl record (?), which, from a turntable, begs to be bought so that, when played, its plastic will turn to gold. "Fade me, fade me..." it pleads at the end. The song is nothing more than a harsh critique of the empty glamour and diva-like behavior often adopted by artists and bands after achieving fame.
In Hotel things start to get quite strange with the tribal-tropical percussion and riffs that are a clear parody of Caribbean music and the tropical rock prevalent at the time. Again, it's a biting social commentary, this time aimed at upper-class tourists (especially Americans) who treat exotic locations and their people as mere objects of entertainment at their disposal. The lyrics are what we might call politically incorrect, due to lines that border on racism (“There's a big black mama in a tree / She's gonna cook us / She's gonna call up the rest of the tribe… Yankee, go gome!, Yankee, go home!”), though more for satirical than offensive purposes.
Old Wild Men is the first and only track on the album with a certain seriousness. It's a solemn ballad in which Stewart and Godley showcase their delicate and beautiful falsettos, reminiscent of church choirboys, while Creme makes extensive use of the Gizmotron, a guitar device invented by Godley and Creme, which was in its early stages of development. The aforementioned Gizmotron gives the guitar a crystalline and radiant effect, and would later play a more prominent role in future 10cc works.
Clockwork Creep is as bizarre as its name suggests and is practically unclassifiable both musically and lyrically. It's a kind of opera. Psychedelic (?) narrated from the point of view of a bomb describing its last minute of life before exploding aboard a Jumbo jet (???). The kind of thing that, ultimately, only Kevin Godley and Lol Creme could come up with. Gouldman's exquisite time signature changes set the tone for transforming the track at every turn, while those Beach Boys-esque vocal harmonies constantly remind us that this is 10cc doing art-rock at its best.
Silly Love is completely different, a punk-heavy track reminiscent of Zeppelin's Communication Breakdown, complete with, of course, the grandiose, almost operatic choruses and Beach Boy-esque melodies of Stewart and company. Despite Creme's smooth and catchy vocal melody, the song rocks like crazy, and the lyrics are brilliant, mocking all the clichés and commonplaces that pop music, and more specifically love and heartbreak ballads, are overflowing with.
Somewhere In Hollywood is the most prog track on the album, a mini-suite with operatic touches lasting almost seven minutes, where the most outstanding aspect is the impeccable use of the recording studio and the possibilities offered by analog equipment. I've always thought that 10cc was a band ahead of its time, not only in terms of songwriting but also in terms of studio production (we'll talk more about this in their next album). This track is a clear example of this, and in general, it's a kind of equivalent to what Celluloid Heroes by The Kinks is, who have always been one of their biggest influences.
Baron Samedi sounds more like a dizzying tribal dance with its frenetic percussion featuring bongos, congas, and marimbas. Halfway through the track, a much more conventional melody bursts in, tricking us into thinking we're heading down a less outlandish path, only to be interrupted again by the relentless rhythms of the bongos. It's madness.
The Sacro-Iliac is almost like a long-running TV jingle, whose lyrics describe a kind of dance or movement ideal for those who hate dancing in a bar or at a party and prefer to drown their sorrows in their drink. Typical 10cc material.
Oh Effendi, the closer, is one of the least strange and most conventional songs on the album, easily mistaken for something composed by a southern rock band like Lynyrd Skynyrd or the Allman Brothers. A pleasant way to end this rollercoaster ride, though not quite mind-blowing like the first half of the record.
Sheet Music is a great album. Perhaps its only weakness lies in its lack of cohesion, due to the ridiculous variety of influences and sounds it encompasses. It doesn't reach the levels of excellence of its predecessor, nor does it approach the perfection of its successor, as the quality dips slightly during the second half. However, that doesn't prevent it from being a brilliant and delirious album, and the second in the tremendous tetralogy that this band would create in their first and best period.
By el Hombre Mojón
Aug/9/2014
