Music of the Day, 22 July 2023

you'll never know, you'll never know

Listening to Sabaton the other day, I was reminded of another musician whose songs sometimes focused on history: Al Stewart. I’m not sure which of his albums I owned first, but I had Past, Present and Future (1974), Year of the Cat (1976), and Time Passages (1978). It is typical of me that the album with his biggest hit (“Year of the Cat”) was the one I liked least… and is the only one still in my collection.

I have the clearest recollections of listening to Past, Present and Future. Reading the song titles dislodged bits of melodies and lyrics from the radio station in my mind for many songs; but seeing the title of today’s featured song froze me. And I didn’t know why. A bit of background is helpful in addressing that question.

I’ve been something of a Russophile since childhood. I’m not sure when or how it started, but I remember treasuring an old book on Russian history that my maternal grandfather had given me. Its vocabulary and writing style were beyond my comprehension at the time, but I adored it anyway. The first time I heard anyone speak Russian, I was so enchanted that I vowed to learn the language myself—and I did. I eventually read other books on Russian history, but am not in any way a scholar.

So it would be reasonable to expect that today’s selection—”Roads to Moscow”—would be the one I remember best. But it doesn’t have a catchy hook the way “Soho (Needless to Say)” does, and it didn’t impress me the way fitting the president’s full name into the lyrics did in “Warren Harding” (for those who don’t know, his middle name is “Gamaliel”).

One listen was all I needed to understand why seeing “Roads to Moscow” gave me chills. It’s an evocative narrative that immerses the listener into a soldier’s story, and concludes with a subtle, heartbreaking twist that those who know history could see coming, but probably don’t. The music of “Roads to Moscow” includes orchestral instruments, which to me help create a Russian mood without any of the stereotypical Russian motifs other composers might choose. And the lyrics! Stewart groks the history he’s singing, yet his touch is deft and moving rather than ponderous and pedantic.

I’d remembered Stewart as an excellent storyteller and singer, but I had forgotten what a great musician he is as well. Liking this album so much foretold where my musical tastes would ultimately settle: on complex music and well-crafted lyrics. More specifically, the proggy musical quality and conceptual themes of Past, Present and Future link tightly to my enduring admiration of Rush.

Readers who are familiar with this album or Al Stewart in general are likely nodding and thinking, “They don’t make ‘em like that any more.” While that’s certainly true, the charge strikes deeper than music and words. The audio engineering and mixing are superb, giving all sounds space to breathe and meld into luscious soundscapes.

“Roads to Moscow” is a song of haunting beauty for me; I hope you find it commendable as well. And that’s it for me for now—I need to see about filling the Al Stewart-sized hole in my music collection.