Solitude Standing, by SUZANNE VEGA

Year: 1987
Country: USA

On 1 April 1987, the greatest album of the eighties was released, and it came from an unexpected place. The best albums of the previous two decades had both originated from the United Kingdom; this one was from New York, USA. And more importantly, the best albums of the previous two decades had come from giants of progressive rock. This one came from a female singer-songwriter who had nothing to do with prog and had released only one album previously. And, I might add, one that had given absolutely no indication of the greatness that was to come.

A cappella opening song Tom's Diner already caused my jaw to drop back when I heard it for the first time. It is hardly the greatest achievement on the album, but I remember thinking already in 1987 that it was a truly original - can I even say ballsy? - way to open an album. In those days, there were no streaming services: those who were considering buying an album often listened to how it began in a record store, from a real disc. An anti-commercial opening like this hardly improved the odds of a sale.

But, of course, there were other ways of getting acquainted with new music even in those days. One was radio play; the other, music video. The second track of the album is also its best known and probably more widely associated with the album. Selected as a single, Luka wasn't a difficult choice for radio stations to play in a pop/rock rotation. Also, the music video below played on MTV and other satellite channels of the era. It gives the random listener a more accurate impression of what the rest of the album would be like than Tom's Diner.

The somehow light sounding, beautiful song carries a weighty message about domestic violence that gives it a bittersweet feel. The young boy subjected to said violence has not yet given up hope, nor should we, implies the optimistic sounding ending. Don't get me wrong - I like Luka very much and it is essential listening for 1987. But no, I don't think even the best known song on the album is among its very best tracks. Perhaps a bit too easily accessible for my taste, it is nonetheless a fitting choice for a single release.

So, even though I had really liked the first two tracks of Solitude Standing, at this point I still wasn't fully convinced. It took track number three to finally hit me on the head with your proverbial sledgehammer, to finally realize that I was listening to a major masterpiece. Ironbound / Fancy Poultry is a two part song that is not only Suzanne Vega's greatest work ever; it also belongs to my personal all time top 10 list of musical achievements. (Strangely enough, it is NOT my number one song of the eighties; we will get back to that anomaly when we reach 1988.)

Much like Tom's Diner was about creating a realistic sounding memory imprint of a certain place and time, Ironbound does the same in a much more complicated and satisfying way. I have been criticized for labeling Suzanne Vega as art rock, and maybe rightly so when considering her entire recorded output. But for both Luka and Ironbound this label fits perfectly - just listen to that impeccable light rock instrumentation. The electric guitar ends up on top, sounding cold but not soulless.

The second part of the song, Fancy Poultry begins with a much simpler arrangement. Now there are only the singer-songwriter's voice and her acoustic guitar. The long instrumental finale that closes the track is one of the most astonishingly beautiful ever composed, and wisely takes its time to slowly fade out. Even when you think it is over, you can still hear faint echoes, and kind of want it still not to have ended. Jaw, meet floor.

And the most pleasant surprise of all is that, even after rising to unimaginable heights, the album continues on nearly the same quality level for several next tracks. I specifically remember that this was what finally sold Solitude Standing to me as the best album of the decade so far, well before it was even over. Irounbound / Fancy Poultry was its greatest masterpiece, but it is one thing to write one great song and another to follow it up with others that don't pale next to it.

The fourth track In the Eye has been embedded above. It is very much like Luka, only better. And there is never a misstep on the first side of the vinyl version. I will not embed everything so you will need to find some gems on your own. Suffice to say that the fifth song Night Vision is a definite step towards a less accessible direction. An acoustic track with a less immediately memorable tune requires two or three repeated listenings before you can fully appreciate it.

The sixth track that closes the vinyl's A side is the title track and that I will once again embed because there is a music video for it. Another great song with a peculiar, even slightly ominous (or is it just me?) atmosphere would be much better off without that embarrassing "one, two, three, four" at the beginning of the video. It certainly isn't there on the album. And then, this near perfect album side is over. There are a further five tracks on B side.

Of the remaining tracks, three are fully on par with the first six and one of them is such a masterpiece that I will have to embed it. Track number 10, Wooden Horse (Caspar Hauser's Song) is the other key song on the album that you must hear to believe; Calypso and Language are solid pieces of work if not quite on the same extraordinary level as Wooden Horse.

This leaves us with only two tracks that I am able to criticize, if only a little bit. Track number 9 called Gypsy is a perfectly fine song, but sounds average-ish in this group of near or full masterpieces. It feels like it would have been a better fit on Suzanne Vega's self titled debut album that contained several similar songs. Even that said, the melody in the chorus is very beautiful.

And finally, there is the closing track, an instrumental reprise of Tom's Diner. It is still very good, but here it no longer has the strong punch that it had at the beginning because of its completely unexpected format. The instrumental version is not bad, but feels a bit unnecessary. If there was nothing left to say, perhaps Wooden Horse could have ended this masterpiece equally well.

1987: January to July

Some time in 1987, most likely during its first half, one of the strongest Finnish rock and roll songs ever was released as a single. The group that performed it was called Sielun Veljet: a zany post punk outfit that I hadn't been paying much attention to until now. Their new powerhouse love song Rakkaudesta (in English, About Love) quickly escalated their status in my book to major favorites.

The first three months of 1987 were very quiet. It was an extremely cold winter in Helsinki area; I lived in Vantaa, worked in Espoo, and my thesis was closing completion. Then came 1 April, and the best album of the entire decade was released. Remember when I mentioned this in 1977? The eighties were the third decade in a row whose best album release came out in the year ending with number seven. Before this, there were The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967) by Pink Floyd and Going for the One (1977) by Yes.

Now, there was a new masterpiece for a new decade. I am not going to disclose its name yet; instead, let's repeat ourselves and honor it by dedicating a blog entry of its own entirely to it. This also seems to be where the rule of exceptional years ending with seven ends. I think I remember the best album of the nineties coming out already in 1992, and I certainly remember the best album of the 00's coming out in 2002. So, for the next couple of times, the magic year will be the one ending with number two instead of seven.

Only six days after the eighties' greatest album, on 7 April, heavy metal band Whitesnake released the pinnacle of their career, either called 1987 (in Europe) or left without a title (in the US). This was the British heavy metal group's seventh studio album and a major hit, selling over 10 million copies in the US alone.

Even though the group was seeking to inject a more heavy metal sound to their music, the best known tracks on 1987 were ballads like Here I Go Again, Crying in the Rain and Is This Love? However, the opening track Still of the Night was a genuine hard rock / heavy metal masterpiece, pathetic lyrics or not, and featured a killer electric guitar sequence about two thirds of the way in. David Coverdale, who had been close to disbanding the group only a couple of years earlier, had finally achieved his greatest success with them.

Another six days went by. Then, on 13 April, the British-American group Fleetwood Mac released their 14th studio album called Tango in the Night which, on the whole, has always been their most satisfying album to me. Sure, many of their best songs appeared on other albums, but none of those could achieve similar consistency of high quality. Tango in the Night contains one great song after another, with few sidesteps to mediocrity.

This is also the reason why I felt it best to embed the entire album above. How could I possibly choose only one track from so many good ones, like Big Love, Seven Wonders, Everywhere, Caroline, Mystified, Little Lies, Welcome to the Room... Sara and Isn't it Midnight. Come to think of it, Tango in the Night must obviously be one of the Albums of the year, even though it has no chance of winning that particular race.

A couple of weeks after Fleetwood Mac's album release, I officially graduated from the university; I was now what they call a Master of Science in Industrial Engineering. My independent adult life still couldn't quite begin, for reasons we will get to only a couple of paragraphs further down. Before that, let's enjoy Aldebaran from Enya's self-titled debut album, out in May. The song is dedicated to film director Ridley Scott, for a reason not known to me.

A stunning beauty with the voice of an angel, Enya was a new talent whose otherworldly, ethereal new age songs provided an easy target for ridicule but whose artistic merit cannot be denied. Before her solo career, Enya had been a member of the Irish group Clannad. Her debut solo album Enya provided the soundtrack to a BBC documentary series called The Celts and was re-released with that title in 1992 when she had become more of a household name due to the major success of her second and third albums. The debut has been better known with that title ever since.

And here comes the reason for not being able to really begin my adult life even after earning my university degree. As a punishment for having been born a Finnish male, I was imprisoned against my will for eleven months worth of hard labor called army service. My sentence began in the early days of June and ended in early May, 1988. It is for this reason that the next music releases are particularly well etched in my memory: it is quite a different thing to listen to music casually, than it is to use it as a means of mental escape from unjust imprisonment.

The first days went by in a haze. I was in hell, commanded by worst idiots you can imagine and accompanied by many of their like. On 6 June, Heart released their finest album Bad Animals that was filled with great pop songs such as Alone, RSVP and Wait for an Answer. My number one favorite among them has always been There's the Girl, embedded above. The official video doesn't really do the song justice, but this is how they were in those days. Slightly embarrassing, but far from able to spoil the sonic experience.

The first two to three months in the army are the worst. The next album release we will discuss is the one I will always associate with them. 22 June saw the release of Clutching at Straws, the fourth and final album of the Fish era Marillion. It wasn't the masterpiece that the Album of the year 1985 Misplaced Childhood was. In fact, it left me with very mixed feelings. There were several undeniably great songs such as the opening track Hotel Hobbies, embedded above; Warm Wet Circles, That Time of the Night (The Short Straw) and the wonderful closing track The Last Straw.

On top of those, an additional track called Going Under that was inexplicably missing from the vinyl release was added to the CD. It was among the very best songs in the collection, and I always wondered why it had been left out in the first place. There were a number of other songs I would rather have dropped. The rest of the album was a series of disappointments and on the whole, I still consider it only the group's third best at that point; a lot better than the disaster that was called Fugazi (1984) but clearly weaker than the other two.

About one month later, yet another pop classic came out. On 20 July, the British synth group New Order released an excellent single where the B side was almost as great as the A side - but not quite. True Faith, embedded above, became an instant classic and a summer favorite of mine. Please make sure to check out the B side 1963 as well. The songwriting is also there of such high quality that many artists would have been likely to release it as a separate A side. True Faith and 1963 represent New Order's finest hour.

Finally, on 27 July, one more great album came out - so great, in fact, that we will skip it here and dedicate yet another blog entry of its own to it. On any other year it would have been a strong contender for Album of the year. But, having been released this year, it was struggling to maintain even its second place. Both the 1 April release and this one are worthy of their own entry, so before we continue 1987 all the way to its end, we will concentrate on these two masterpieces separately.