Five from five

As this year marks the release of Trevor's fifth solo album (I find it interesting that he and Peter Gabriel have solo careers of similar length and gaps between latter-day releases and yet Trevor still beats The Gabe in regards to fewer solo albums in the same timeframe, but more film scores), I thought I'd offer up a list of what I consider to be the best track from each record, hence the title of this entry.

And no, I don't count Beginnings and Trevor Rabin as two separate releases despite the fact that they are, physically, two different albums.  I consider the latter as the former's calculating doppelganger, unfortunately even those efforts to make it internationally palatable did not succeed in the way in which the album deserved to.

"Live A Bit"
Beginnings (1978)
Beginnings (and its eponymous doppelganger) is my favorite of the vocal solo albums because I believe - for all its naivete - nothing comes closer to the true expression of Trevor's range and ambition and emotion in regards to his own music.  In this I am likely alone amongst Rabinites but I say to them: you're missing out by ignoring this record.  For one thing, it's romantic in ways in which his later material would not be, and one of those ways is illustrated in this song...there's a dreamy, brooding, almost hallucinogenic quality about both the lyrics and the music which is singularly beautiful and compelling.  Trevor's Strat wails and moans and swoops across an almost menacing shuffle of bass and drums, with the tension of orchestral strings hovering above it all.  Lyrically, in a metaphorically oblique fashion, I believe it addresses the strange quality of freedom he was experiencing in going it alone, creatively, and this is supported by his observation that the only thing that's permanent is change.  But the repeated refrain is a joyful cry of relief, to emerge from the other side of sudden fame and the enormous weight of adulation and scrutiny and find himself to be still whole and (mostly) sane; as is the end solo, reminding one and all - though he's no longer a Rabbitt - Trevor is still a musical force to be reckoned with.

"Now"
Face To Face (1979)
Trevor's earlier records tend to be given short shrift by fans and I do confess to a certain disappointment in regards to Face To Face, my least favorite, in which I believe Trevor is trying too hard to fit into the box desired by Chrysalis A&R in regards to his musical identity.  The album has a decidedly UK focus in regards to the subjects and references in the songs and that is evident on my choice for strongest track which opens Side Two; it is ambitious, dramatic and inventive in regards to its rendering of a stranger trying to survive in the cold cruel city.  It also contains a rhyme which never fails to make me smile at its cleverness:
I see Mad Jack still sleeps in the foyer
he's gotta get out, being sued by a lawyer
and it's backed throughout by percussive vocalizations (courtesy of Trevor and Rene Arnell) which are a direct precursor to the "acapella Disneyland" of "Leave It" as well as an interesting use of a Strat he borrowed from David Gilmour with hex-type pickups, resulting in a (in Trevor's words) "high shimmering effect that's really beautiful."

"Heard You Cry Wolf"
Wolf (1981)
I think of Wolf as an "imperfectly perfect" album, for reasons I won't expound on here, but I believe even Trevor considers this the best song of the pack, as it's the only one from the former years of his solo career which he included in the setlist when touring in 1989.  On an album containing delicious cheese ("She's Easy," "Long Island"), bluesy struts and shuffles ("Stop Turn," "Take Me To A Party") and rock-solid guitar heroics throughout, this is the song which best displays a number of Trevor's overall strengths: a strong hook, catchy chorus, dramatic arrangement, good lyrics which don't strain the metaphor overly much, and a long soaring solo in the rideout which is truly swoon-worthy (and gorgeously rendered live courtesy of a few bootleg recordings and the 2003 release Live In LA).

"I Can't Look Away"
Can't Look Away (1989)
The title track of sorts, this is the album's mission statement in that the emotion and ambition of this song colors the rest of the album entire, even those songs which stray from its aura of gravitas.  Addressing a subject near to his heart and mind as a son of Msanzi, the lyrics are poetically evocative and the arrangement shifts from quiet to loud, a textbook example of the Rabinesque sense of grandeur, to emphasize the nature of strife and the yearning for peace.  This is another song which is all the more passionate and powerful when performed live, and the showcase for some of Trevor's best guitar playing in his overall history as a performer.

"Anerley Road"
Jacaranda (2012)
On an album which is perfect it's tough to choose one piece of perfection over another.  This is likely a contentious choice for those readers who have been spinning/streaming the album and probably prefer "Through The Tunnel" which audaciously careens between peaceful passages and all-out sonic warfare, or "Me and My Boy," the metallic hoedown as delivered by Tremander.  However, for me nothing is as indicative of Trevor's mindset, memory and creative acumen as this wholly fusionesque offering named for the Parktown, Johannesburg street which contained his childhood home.  This strikes me as the lynchpin of the record in regards to its presentation of existing fusion tropes and how they can be manipulated, melded, and even inverted while still retaining the sonic definition thereof.  Bracketed on either end by a Barney Kessel-style coda, the multitude of textures (courtesy of nine different guitars plus dobro) create a fascinating wall of sound which is punctuated by the tasteful drumming of Lou Molino and a lengthy dialogue between Trevor and bass wunderkind Tal Wilkenfeld, whose solo midway through the song (during an interlude in which the mix lays back to let her shine) is a thing of evocative beauty.  The way the two voices (guitar and bass) entwine towards the end (featuring a part by Trevor on his custom Tobias which sounds a bit like an angry bumblebee) is playful and confident.  By the end of the track all previous stereotypes and preconceived notions regarding Trevor's abilities have been summarily ripped to shreds.  Class dismissed!

The Man of a Thousand Credits: dipping a toe in the Ocean(a)

One of a continuing series in regards to the myriad variety of Trevor’s discography.


Back in 2006 Trevor lent his talents to a project helmed by Don Harper, who has been a longtime colleague of Trevor's as a member of his scoring production team, and I consider the track he played on to be one of the great unsung classics of Trevor's career, a link between past and present, the way in which his film scoring sensibilities began influencing his writing overall, and the true breadth and depth of his playing.

It is one of those moments which again proves Trevor possesses the finest of jazz sensibilities in an era when many considered him merely the purveyor of pop hooks, guitar cliches and Music To Watch Explosions By.

But as usual, all those people are dead wrong.

Don't take my word for it, though...here are Don Harper's impressions:
"I came up with the idea to do an Americana piece that allowed him to interact with the orchestra and yet allow him the space to do his "Trevor" thing, really not knowing what I might expect. I sent him the orchestral tracks and let him go. When I listened to the tracks (and peeled myself off the back wall of my studio) I was actually shocked at the energy in the first movement and the sensitivity in the second. Understand, the project is not particularly commercial and eclectic to say the least, but the emotion of what Trevor played shocked and surprised me. Surprised because, I knew from working with him, what his rock and classical abilities were but I had no idea of the Jazz sensibilities he would bring to the composition. The back half starts off in a Kenny Burrell vibe and goes from there to...I have no idea. Who knew? I know I'm preaching to the choir, but I think he's just getting warmed up!" 
Warmed-up indeed...when we consider what was yet to come.

There are not enough adjectives to describe the absolute beauty of Trevor's playing on this piece, and as I am not one for piling them on just because, I'll leave you with this: those unfamiliar with this piece can now experience a bit of Trevor's creative mindset as he created Jacaranda, but in a somewhat different milieu in regards to the orchestral arrangement.  However, the combination is indeed inspired and something Trevor is not only well-versed in, but entirely sympathetic to.  He shows that he is capable of a variety of emotions: subtlety and restraint, passion and power, serene melodicism and fiery fretwork.

(Okay that was perhaps a bit much...but it's worth it to praise this piece of genius.)

I have many desires in regards to Trevor's instrumental output, and one of them is to hear an entire album of this kind of music, but even one track like it in future would be a beautiful thing.

from Don Harper's Oceana Orchestra's 2007 release Dream & Variations
"Where Do We Go From Here?" featuring Trevor Rabin