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To conclude, here’s another genre, represented by the declared object of hate and mockery of Jello Biafra: CAT STEVENS (brilliant album title: “Icon: Cat Stevens”). Well, the girls from Jello's school probably listened to him, while young Eric Boucher was already listening to STOOGES or something like that; in any case, this could have led to some not to be underestimated traumas, which in turn should culminate in merciless attacks on the American establishment. So everything has its good side.
Now it’s easy to make fun of religious people, especially in this case it would be a perfect setup. I’ll just leave it at that, as everything important has already been said. I just want to mention that a convert from Christianity to Islam sings his superstitions past me both before and after. A radiated fuzz beard remained with Cat Stevens in both cases, but how is the music?
I was a bit surprised by what I absorbed in my youth when I barely knew English. Strong stuff, this hippie folk with a peace message, but not least also praise for God. Musically speaking, these are good songs, and since most people don’t care about the lyrics, the religious content doesn’t hinder success. Or rather, it certainly promotes it among the sheep of the same faith, that’s what I’ve been told. The lyrics don’t hurt anyone and stick nicely, with guitar, piano, and female choir; only this whispering voice gets on my nerves. It sounds, I’m sorry, a bit religiously detached. With “Wild World” and “Father and Son,” of course, the evergreens are included, which can even hold their own lyrically. But there are also some quite nice songs unknown to me, and even two recorded after the artist's name change. Why the new name doesn’t actually appear on the cover can only be speculated; perhaps “Yusuf Islam” poses a sales obstacle here. In Mosul, they might print it prominently on the front. I would have liked to hear “The First Cut is the Deepest” and “Where Do the Children Play” again, but those songs probably fell through the cracks in the selection. Too bad.
Overall, a quite usable overview of Cat Stevens' work, but if I really want to listen to this kind of music, I’d rather stick with the old Bob Dylan (also a Christian, but with sensible lyrics) or John Lennon (greater than Jesus). Apart from that, anyone still droning on about this Love & Peace of the flower children after the sixties must have seemed a bit stuck in the past. Almost as anachronistic as still being punk after '77. Almost.
I have no idea if I would have absorbed these three acts with a joint and gin as a contemporary. This only represents a small and very arbitrary snapshot of what actually went over the air; there was far worse and also far better. Especially in hard rock, there were bands that I now count among my favorites. And if today the frontmen of almost every veteran punk band have sung their feelings into the world with just an acoustic guitar, it seems that this approach isn’t entirely foreign to them either. Nevertheless, I can imagine what a culture shock it must have been to see the UK SUBS or ADVERTS for the first time, to stay on the island. Instead of solos and chest hair, tradition preservation and stadium rock, just tearing everything apart and cobbling it together into something new and wild with a lust for provocation, standing firmly in the present and kicking around, I can only say: Well done. And until this music is available in supermarkets, many rock 'n' roll corpses will probably still float down the Thames.
Part 1: Deep Purple
Part 2: Uriah Heep
