I didn’t think anyone could be a more perfect candidate for this series than Dan Fogelberg, but I was wrong. This, folks, is a band that shouldn’t have new music. Hell, even the last Foreigner album was a record out of time and space, and that came out in 1995. By now, these guys should be collecting buffet passes for America’s finer casinos and playing “Hot Blooded” twice a night for politely appreciative crowds of Camaro owners and shut-ins. Maybe a stray new track or two on the compilations that dribble out once or twice a decade, sure…but an entire album of new Foreigner songs? They’re kidding, right?
But wait. Back up a minute, because that ‘95 Foreigner record — it was called Mr. Moonlight, stop laughing — was actually really good. And so, God help me, is Can’t Slow Down, the two-CD, one-DVD recession-busting value package that the current version of the band is peddling through a Walmart exclusive.
Let me be clear. I listened to, and loved, more than my fair share of ’80s AOR; if there was a rocker attempting a desperate late-career comeback during the decade, I was there, plunking my money down on the counter at the record store to own the undignified flailings of everyone from Chicago to Heart to Bad Company. I’ve never had any special affection for Foreigner, though; by the time I started collecting music, they were polluting the airwaves with “I Want to Know What Love Is,” which was followed by the even shittier “I Don’t Want to Live Without You” — and the less said about 1991’s Lou Gramm-less Unusual Heat, the better. Many a rock band has crumbled under the weight of platinum records, but Foreigner was unique — no sooner did they achieve mainstream success than Gramm and Jones were at each other’s throats, splitting and reuniting twice after 1990, destroying in the process not only Gramm’s burgeoning solo career, but Foreigner’s too. Of course, they would have been wiped off the map when grunge slouched onto the scene in the early ’90s, but they should have at least been intact, instead of dissolving from one of Atlantic’s crown jewels into a motley crew of hired hands tagging along with Jones on a series of progressively sadder tours. (more…)
“It’s always that one song that gets to you. You can hide, but the song comes to find you.”
One of the great eccentrics (and notorious drinkers) in rock, Michael Schenker also served in one of the great hard rock bands of the mid- and late 70s. The Schenker/Phil Mogg/Pete Way/Andy Parker nexus that powered UFO in this period produced a handful of classic albums, including the scorching, varied Lights Out (1977). Mogg is an oft-overlooked voice in this period who, at his best, could match Paul Rodgers and Lou Gramm in strength, sleaze, and swagger.
If I didn’t collect ‘80s music I most certainly would have missed out on these gems and thought that “King of Wishful Thinking” (1990) was Go West’s first single and Indian Summer (1992) their first album. If you ever wanted to get into Go West for some reason, that album could easily be the place to start and stop. However, you’d be doing yourself a disservice by not going back and listening to their 1985 self-titled debut. The follow-up, 1987’s Dancing on the Couch, wasn’t quite as good as Go West, but it still contains some catchy-as-hell pop tunes. All three of the great songs featured here are from Go West, and though they sound dated today, if you think back to 1985 they actually sound a little too sophisticated for that era. Maybe that’s why none of them made an impact on the charts. Go West had one single in ‘87 barely crack the Top 40 — “Don’t Look Down (The Sequel)” hit #39, but it isn’t even included on the British version of Dancing on the Couch.
