display | more...
Solo album by Jerry Harrison of Talking Heads, from 1987. Based on the way the cover is written, the musicians or musical entity are known as 'Jerry Harrison: Casual Gods' and the recording is titled 'Casual Gods'. By all accounts, keyboardist/guitarist Jerry was the most conventional, in a musical sense, of the T-Heads, and this album seems to support that (obligatory effort to be non-T-Heads on solo work aside). Certainly not a hit or virtuoso effort, this album still has a kind of coherence, and also a richness of detail and structure, that stands up over time. One could dismiss it on a casual listen, but the solid songs get better and the weaker ones insinuate themselves into one's beat vocabulary with repeated listenings.

Much of the guitar work, with the clipped, prickly notes, is indeed keyboard-like in its sensibilities, and rhythmic explorations permeate every song. Jerry clearly meant for this stuff to be moved to, though it would be a stretch to call it dance music - it is firmly planted in late-80s post-rock. Jerry et. al. appeared once on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, and his club performance roots were clearly evident - he was almost at home in that venue.

'Rev It Up' is a fun opener about an eager girl who throws down a challenge (hope you have a motorcycle). 'Song of Angels' is a multi-layered piece that's purely upbeat and recalls T-Heads a little. 'Man With a Gun' is the best song on the album, with a cinematic quality that is no doubt due at least in part to it's being actually used for a movie (research needed). The synthesizer plays long deep notes that change oh-so-slowly, while the almost spoken vocal starts...
A pretty girl,
a pretty girl,
can walk anywhere.
All doors open for her...
The harpsichord-like guitar comes in and the song flows on, elucidating that reverent awe truly beautiful women inspire. The mood is sustained throughout the song, which had to require incredible restraint.
It would have been so easy to ruin this song.
'Let It Come Down' is meant to be spare, airy, and threatening to contrast the heady feelings just inspired, and it works, though maybe it is a bit too plodding. The breaks from echo-y solo vocals to arching group choruses are nice, and the organ at the end accentuates the church-like overtones. 'Cherokee Chief' is a fun power-riff driven rocker that sends up SUVs and wannabe hardasses. Definitely a 'turn it up loud' number. 'A Perfect Lie' is a pretty straight-ahead dance number about someone both delighted and a little suspiscious about his lover's new-found skill. 'Are You Running' is more of the same, and combined with the later 'Bobby' business is what probably turns most people off to this album, though it isn't objectionable in itself. 'Breakdown In The Passing Lane' is an enigma. The thumping beat juxtaposed with the melodic breaks leads to ignoring it as simply formulaic, but the lyrics are pretty clever, and the synth-sax solo is great. The resurfacing of the vehicle/road theme is an interesting side note, and accentuates that most of the songs are about relationships. All subtlety is discarded on the next track, 'A.K.A. Love', a lover's plaint with all staccatto instrumentation and lots of headphone effects and a decided lack of reliance on melody. Funny, for a love song.
'We're Always Talking' compensates by returning to an almost Phil Spectorish wall of sound richness and well thought out lyrics. There's an atmospheric interplay between the instruments that is particularly inspired. The song's theme of acceptance of one's lover as she/he is, and celebration of same, is the most hopeful message on the album.

This leads to the curious problem of 'Bobby'.
This piece comes in two versions, one after the other; the second is an extended dance mix version, which in those days usually showed up after a song was a hit, mostly in dance clubs. So the repetition is a problem for your average album or CD listener. Another problem is that it isn't that solid a song to begin with, and is mostly composed of the tricks one throws in for an extended version. The final nail in the coffin is the subject matter - a phone call to a troubled friend who is on the verge of going Hollywood, in the Lethal Weapon sense of the term. It is a serious conceptual break from the overall thrust of the album, which as stated before, is about relationships. The album would probably have been better without either version, though I must admit that after many many listenings I find them both, especially the extended version, comfortable in the way one likes putting on an old pair of tattered work gloves - worn-through fingers, split seams, and all.

Overall, probably something only an 80s vetran could love, and distinct enough from the 80s stereotype to disappoint those who came later but like that kind of thing. Still, like most albums, has a couple of great tracks, a few good ones, and some filler. Jerry was just having fun and trying to get it right.

Tracklist:
  1. Rev It Up
  2. Song of Angels
  3. Man With A Gun
  4. Let It Come Down
  5. Cherokee Chief
  6. A Perfect Lie
  7. Are You Running?
  8. Breakdown In The Passing Lane
  9. A.K.A. Love
  10. We're Always Talking
  11. Bobby
  12. Bobby (Extended Mix)
The main album artwork is a dark monochromatic photo of thousands of muddy, black-haired indigents hauling sacks of something heavy up, down, and all round an vast open-pit. Inside, this block of text sits, in white on a black field:
          These  are   not   scenes   from  a
          movie.  These  pictures  were taken
          last  year  in  Brazil.  50,000 men
          are digging for gold in a hole that
          was   once   a   mountain.   Though
          they  look  like  swarming  ants or
          endless  caravans of  pack animals,
          they are men,  reduced to this con-
          dition by  poverty  and  the bewil-
          dering indifference of casual gods.
The casual gods entered the modern pantheon as people started dressing up for day to day work. As people were forced to wear pompous, starched, or constraining clothing a collective desire was born to occasionally be able to wear something that wasn't quite as stifling.

Thus, the casual gods were born. Being new in the modern pantheon of gods, the casual gods got things a bit off and created masquerade balls at during which nobility would dress up in even more pompous and constraining clothing.

After a century or two, the casual gods inspired a prophet - that of General Mufti. General Mufti (as the legend goes) looked to improve poor morale in the British Army by allowing his troops to wear civilian clothing rather than uniforms some days of the year. Apparently, this tradition as "Mufti day" still is held in the United Kingdom and the Asia - Pacific portion of the world (places where the British Army was). As part of the Mufti day, those dressing up (or down) would give money to a charity in homage to the casual gods.

As part of its transition into the Americas, the casual gods were very successful - especially in that region known as the valley of silicon. While many worship the casual gods on a daily basis, there are some places that require a more formal attire. Here, every Friday has become a "casual Friday", however the charity aspect has been lost in the transition and thus only lip-service is paid to these modern deities.

Casual gods day of worship is casual Friday. Dress ranges from business casual (pantsuits for women in often in a neutral color to a sports coat or slacks, khakis or Dockers for men) to teeshirt, shorts, and sandals. There are tales of individuals showing up on Friday very casual - wearing nothing at all. The priesthood of the casual gods in America is the group known as "human resources" who occasionally try to do something that seems morale boosting.

The casual gods have extended their influence to create a temple of their own known as "TGIF", named after the prayers to the casual gods just before the weekend.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.