1. True by Spandau Ballet

 1. True by Spandau Ballet

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gI-UNoK-jeM&list=OLAK5uy_kCIuWE2ZiRbRWnVfjsTrgN014SgsfDlfU

In my Top 200 list I explained the following about my #3 song "True."

While many of the songs on this top 200 list are associated with negative emotions and memories, this song hearkens back to a day during my senior year in high school when I experienced a moment of complete bliss. Actually, it wasn't a moment. It was a bliss-a-thon that lasted the entire album version of "True" as I slow-danced with Jennifer Palmer during the senior year homecoming dance. And although that relationship didn't work out in the end, every time I hear this song it triggers a memory of absolute happiness.

Over the years, the association of Spandau Ballet's music and that feeling of bliss has expanded from that one song to the entire album. It reminds me of that time in my life before the Great Depression--from April to October of 1983--when I felt at the top of my game. During that summer the song "True" had been rising up the charts, and whenever I heard it I thought that it would be the perfect slow dance song. I wasn't wrong. Falling head over heels in love when dancing toe to toe was pretty easy with this song playing. Unfortunately, I fell harder than I should have (right through the floor and into the basement), and it set me up to go through The Great Depression for the next four years. But that feeling of bliss was a really important experience for me to have, because after that dance I knew that I would have to feel that level of bliss with whatever woman I was going to marry in my future. And I didn't feel that kind of bliss with any other girl I dated until I met Julie. When I felt it with her, that was the moment The Great Depression officially ended, and I felt at the top of my game again.

In regards to the quality of music on this album, the things I liked about the sound of "True" can be found in every other song on the album. The consistent quality of the lyrics, the interesting instrumentation, the danceable rhythms (with bongos aplenty!), the whole soulful vibe--it is a complete package that, in my opinion, is the pinnacle of Spandau Ballet's entire music catalogue. The albums that came before had a much different punk/new wave sound, and the albums that came after it had less of that soul influence and more of a late-'80s rock sound. But True hits that musical sweet spot for me that makes my ears say "Thank you!" while at the same time triggering that sentimental part of my brain that remembers dancing with the red-haired girl of my dreams while on a double date with my good buddy who, I believe, was also feeling a high level of bliss at the same time on that same dance floor with a cute blonde that had a smile that could melt pretty much anything made by man and a fun laugh that made anyone that heard it immediately want to make her laugh again. Frankly, I thought that out of all the romances that my Arimo Mafia friends had, my buddy and his date were the best match and had the best chance of turning into something that could last beyond high school. I guess that deep down inside I really knew that my chance of having a long-term romance with my dream girl was about one in a billion. Our personalities simply weren't a good match. Also, the age difference was a problem. How could I realistically expect that she would want to wait around for me not dating anyone else for three years while I went to college and a mission? Yep. It was doomed to fail long before it even began. However, it still happened. And it had a huge impact on my tastes in music. So many of my Top 60 albums are related to The Great Depression because music was one of those things that I used to cope with the way I felt about others and myself. But in regards to this album, I know this much is true--the love we may have lost in high school prepared us to find the love of our lives later on. And for the role this album played in making those moments of bliss happen, I have to place it at the tippy top of my Top 60 albums list.

Nardo

2. The Nightfly by Donald Fagen

 2. The Nightfly by Donald Fagen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ueivjr3f8xg&list=OLAK5uy_kJmuqJb6DRctnv0NEBJNkhfwy8aSqrYA8

As perfect as Toto IV is, The Nightfly is even more perfecter. That's because it's written and performed by one of those masters of perfection--Steely Dan. When Steely Dan broke up after Gaucho--due in large part to Walter Becker's ongoing heroine addiction--Donald Fagen went out on his own to produce his first solo album. If you like the perfectionism of the Steely Dan sound, but you're a little tired of all the veiled (and not-so-veiled) drug and sex references in Steely Dan lyrics, then you'll absolutely love The Nightfly. It doesn't have to disguise the subjects of the songs in veiled lyrics, and that makes the songs much more accessible to the listener. 

While the album was digitally recorded, when it was released on October 1, 1982, they did not release it on CD. That's probably because it was October 1, 1982 when Sony and Philips began to market their CD players--in Japan! So there wasn't a big market for CDs in the U.S. until the following year. 

By the way, there was one visionary artist that had the balls to market the first CD on October 1, 1982 to all of his fans in Japan. Billy Joel released the CDs of 52nd Street and The Stranger as part of a group of 50 albums released on that day. But 52nd Street had the first catalogue number, so it's commonly cited as the first CD marketed.

The first hit off The Nightfly was "I.G.Y." Well, it really wasn't that big of a hit, as it only got up to #26 on the Top 40 chart. I think that's due in part to the weird title of the song. The letters I.G.Y. stood for International Geophysical Year--an international event concocted up by science nerds to promote cooperation and collaboration between science nerds to improve the world. The event ran from July 1957 to December 1958--so right during the good old days of the Cold War. The song got nominated for a Grammy for Song of the Year, but lost to Willie Nelson's "Always on My Mind," which was a remake of a 1972 song that was recorded by a bunch of artists including Brenda Lee and Elvis Presley. So I guess if you wait ten years and do a remake on an old beat up guitar, then you're chances of winning a Grammy for the song go up. The other main reason Fagen's song didn't do better on the charts is because it clocked in at 6:03 long, and everyone knows if you wanna have a hit, you've got to make it fit, so he should have cut it down to 3:05. 

"New Frontier" and "Ruby Baby" got released as singles in 1983. "New Frontier" didn't perform well on the charts, but it did have an excellent music video that got significant air play on the MTV, because what kid in the 80s didn't have fantasies of taking part in a wing-ding in a bomb shelter?! And if you look at the cover of the album the kiddies are listening to in the bomb shelter, you'll see that it's Dave Brubeck's Time Out, which I listed as #58 on this Top 60 album list. (I don't know why, but in my original write up, I called it Out of Time, which is not its correct name. I've now made that correction thanks to watching the "New Frontiers" video.) 

I didn't buy this album when it first came out. But on my mission in Sweden I heard songs from the album while shopping in a store, and I thought to myself, "Hey! I really like these songs! I'm going to buy this album when I get home!" And I did. I listened to it a lot during the next few years of college. And when my old mission companion Elder Adam Skinner came for a visit, this was the only album in my collection that he would listen to. He was going to study music (saxophone and piano) at the Berklee College of Music, which is one of the top music colleges in the nation, and this album was the only one that he found musically interesting. All of the other albums he said were boring, except for my Billy Joel albums, which he knew enough to not criticize in front of my face. A year or so ago I saw a YouTube video of him singing Billy's "New York State of Mind," so he's come around to appreciate Billy since then. 

I listened to this album a lot while I was teaching at Irving Jr. High. It's one of those albums I can let play over and over and never get sick of listening to it, so it got me through lots of after-school grading marathons. I also would just press play on this album and then sit back on my classroom couch, stare at all the tables and chairs in the room, and think about different kinds of learning activities I could do with my students. My principle once told a group of visitors that saw my unique classroom set up that I was the most innovative teacher in the school district. (I heard that he said that from one of the visitors later on.) If I was that innovative, it was only because this album inspired me to turn my basement classroom into a place where me and the kids could have a real wing-ding. 

I think the other reason I like "The Nightfly" so much is that the titular song reminds me of that time in high school when I wanted to be a DJ. And I guess I still kind of would like to try my hand at it. You know. Be a DJ on RadioJoe--the station that plays the best songs you ain't never heard. I'd probably play songs off this album a lot, only I wouldn't be broadcasting from the foot of Mount Belzoni. I'd be broadcasting from the top of Old Tom.

Nardo

3. Toto IV by Toto

 3. Toto IV by Toto

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGtVZgCYVgk&list=OLAK5uy_m2QlEWxtNVMr_UTLBZVvlg1JpHue3wyx8

In April of 1982, the first hit from Toto IV began to get airplay on the southeast Idaho radio stations, and as soon as I heard the opening lines of "Roseanna," I fell in love with the sound of Toto. There wasn't anything about that song that I didn't absolutely love. And that's why one of my favorite junior year memories is of me walking down the high school hallway around the end of the day and singing at the top of my lungs, "All I wanna do in the middle of the evening is hold you tight! Roseanna! Roseanna!" And at that point, my old nemesis--the English teacher that I loved to hate--stepped out into the hallway, tried to shoot me with some eye daggers, and then closed his classroom door behind him. To know that I had truly annoyed him brought me great pleasure, almost as much pleasure as the sound of girls in other open-doored classrooms laughing out loud at my high falsetto voice. 

And if the monster hit "Africa" doesn't take you back in time to the summer 1982, then you obviously didn't have a radio on your tractor.

This album is like the musical equivalent of Mary Poppins--practically perfect in every way. There's really only one bad thing that I will readily admit is associated with Toto IV--the music videos. Yikes! I mean, you'd have to have one damn good record to overcome the ridiculousness of those videos. Fortunately, Toto IV was one damn good record!

One of the reasons that I think Toto IV sounds so good to my ears is that it not only helped sustain me through The Great Depression, it actually helped me get out of The Great Depression. This was one of the albums that Julie liked to play while we were on dates in that black step-side Chevy pickup. I loved the album before I loved her, but I somehow loved the album even more after I fell in love with her. In fact, "Afraid of Love" is one of my Julie-songs--a song that perfectly fits my feelings for her during those weeks right before I decided I wanted to marry her. She really did take me by surprise on our first date, and after our second date I thought if I don't get away from her immediately, I was going to fall in love with her. And I guess I'm not revealing any spoilers here, but the other Julie-song from the album is "Waiting for Your Love," because that's what I was doing all those Great Depression years--waiting for her love. So even though it took 6 years from the time Toto IV was originally released for it to turn into one of those albums I got to associate with falling head over heals in love, it was totally worth the wait. 

Nardo

4. Genesis by Genesis

 4. Genesis by Genesis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7lXH0nwirio&list=OLAK5uy_kHRLfBQUF_0QymcIJhE18UQBTix328DYk&index=1

Released in October of 1983, this album was perfectly positioned to help kick off The Great Depression, which officially began November 1983. "Illegal Alien" was the only song that didn't seem directly related to the way I felt during The Great Depression, as I was neither illegal nor alien.

"That's All" and "Taking It All Too Hard" are the perfect summation of everything I went through emotionally at the beginning of The Great Depression. That's because the precise beginning of The Great Depression occurred on Saturday evening, November 12, 1983, at the exact moment I was sticking a thin piece of metal with a piece of food on the end into a large heated bowl of melted cheese, and I heard one girl on the army date ask the girl that I thought I was dating if she had enjoyed the Sadie Hawkins dance the night before--a girl-ask-guy dance which the girl I thought I was dating did NOT ask me to go to. And so, in a nanosecond it became obvious to me that she had gone to the dance with someone else because that's what she wanted to do. And in that moment, just as I thought it was going alright, I found out that I was wrong when I thought I was right. I could have left, but I didn't go, though my heart told me so. I couldn't feel a thing from my head down to my toes. 

Basically, my heart froze at that moment, and I didn't think it would ever thaw out. But being the major thickhead that I was, a short six weeks later, I let the same thing happened again, but with a different girl. Oh, no, I made the same mistakes again. And just as I thought it was going alright, I found out I was wrong when I thought I was right. Once again, I took it all to heart, and I took it all too hard. I realized that no matter what girl I was trying to find a way to love, it would always be the same. It's just a shame. That's all. 

So, that's why I stopped dating and going to dances and basically avoided any kind of situation in which there was the slightest chance that I might end up having any kind of conversation with a girl that was outside of a classroom. I took my heart and locked it away and melted the key like it was a piece of geometrically-shaped cheddar cheese. And that's why when the whole school voted me in as king of the senior prom while I was away on band tour, I said, "Hell no!" And when Ronald Jolley tried to intimidate me into going to the dance with the girl that had been voted queen of the prom, I still said, "Hell no!" And when the queen herself in tears begged me to go to the dance with her, I remained unmoved and still said, "Hell no!" And since everybody liked the queen, I then became a thoroughly hated figure in the school until after the senior prom. Only my three friends in the Arimo Mafia knew why I was doing the things I was doing, and frankly, that was enough for me. I just ran track, listened to a lot of music on the stereo at home when i wasn't hanging out with my three friends, and kept my head down until graduation finally freed me from that social hellfire called High School.  

The rest of the songs on the album can be thought of as really good bonus songs, especially the psychotic "Mama," the extra long "Home by the Sea" and "Second Home by the Sea"--both of which should always be listened to as a single song, as that's how they sound on the original album--and the revenge fantasy "Just a Job to Do." I know it's supposed to be a hitman singing, but it just feels more fun to imagine I'm the one doing the hit job.

Now, you might think that since this album is so closely associated in my mind with those initial moments of The Great Depression that I would have felt depressed when I listened to it. But that's not the effect this album had on me. Instead, I got emotionally pumped up when I heard these songs. It was like a mojo booster that made me feel empowered to keep focused on whatever else I was doing in my life and not get bummed out because I didn't have a girlfriend.

That's why this album was one of my favorite ones to listen to after I got back from Sweden. Thanks in great part to this album, I managed to keep the He-Men-Women-Hater vibe going strong until March of 1988. That's when I met Julie and all my previous oaths to not date anymore were broken for good. She was just too much damn fun! And because this Genesis album doesn't play all that well on dates or on trips with the wife, I stopped listening to it as much. But every now and then when I'm all by my lonesome and I want to listen to something that really sends me back in time to my high school years, I'll put this album on and remember all those extraordinarily strong emotions I felt back during The Great Depression. And for some reason, it just makes my mojo levels shoot up so high that I feel really good and that makes life seem easier, even during those times when it feels like it's getting so hard.

Ha-ha-hah! Oooh!

Ha-ha-hah! Oooh!

Nardo

5. A Night at the Opera by Queen

 5. A Night at the Opera by Queen

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_mz4wksGpUUokxRpbyFKZ8pmRY51dWvDH8

I think it was the autumn of 1976 after the wheat harvest when Dad said it was time to buy a new stereo for the family. I was excited to go to Pocatello with Dad, but it was Renda that made sure he paid the extra money to get a decent system. She also talked him into buying a couple of new albums that she said would sound really good on the stereo. One of those albums was A Night at the Opera. And she was right. I cannot explain just how awesome it was to hear this album on speakers that were spaced far apart across the room from each other. Before that day, all of the records we listened to were played on a record player with a single built-in speaker. Having listened to the album at a friend's house, Renda had the good sense to make sure that the first song my parents heard on the album wasn't "Death on Two Legs," what with the line "And now you can kiss my ass goodbye." Instead, she skipped straight to "Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon." Both Mom and Dad quickly lost interest in listening to the rest of the album and walked off to do something else like cook dinner or watch TV, but us kids laid on the floor in front of the stereo downstairs and listened to the whole thing straight through to "Bohemian Rhapsody," which in stereo is an absolute mind-blowing listening experience. So we begged to listen to that song repeatedly until Renda finally insisted that we listen to something else. And from that moment on, all the kids in the Olson family became fans of Queen.

Over the years of growing up in Arimo, this album was always a favorite that anyone could put on the stereo and everyone else was okay with it. And that's kind of a big deal when you've got six (sometimes seven) people living in the basement together. We would even sing some of the songs together. And we didn't need to be listening to the album to do that. We could be out doing chores together and start up a Night at the Opera song, and others would chime in without hesitation. In fact, this Christmas when I gave my brother's family a gift of a microphone, microphone stand, and a small speaker, his kids wanted to sing karaoke, and he put on "Bohemian Rhapsody" and Jared, Ruth, and I could still belt out all of the lyrics. Of course, that song has been played so often on the radio, and the lyrics are readily Googled up, that it's probably not that big of a feat anymore. But back in the late 70s, this six-minute long song wasn't played all that often, so knowing the lyrics to that song was something only someone who owned the album could do, as some of the lyrics were more than a little weird. (Scaramouch, scaramouch, will you do the fandango?)

Anyway, A Night at the Opera has become one of those albums that is so engrained in our collective memory that it has become part of the Olson family identity--much like the Beatles White Album and Johnathan Livingston Seagull. Of course, not everyone knows the lyrics to "I'm in Love with My Car" like I do. But if I start singing it, they'll recognize it as belonging to A Night at the Opera. And that's why I've ranked this album so high on my list. (The White Album should probably be up here in the top 10 with the other two albums, but I purposefully started off this list with that album because it's the one album with my earliest memories of listening to it on our old record player.) And because we're all grown and living our own lives now, there won't be any more albums like this that help define the eclectic nature of the Olson family's musical tastes.

I do want to mention that one of my favorite memories of cruising Arimo with my friends is whenever "Bohemian Rhapsody" came on the radio we would all sing along with it and bang our heads during the rock-out ending. That's why I loved that Bohemian Rhapsody scene in Wayne's World so much -- it was a direct link to some of my favorite sing-along with friends memories. So my memories of this album include family and friends, so I have definitely been able to keep good company with this album. But I also had moments of solitude where, as a teenager during the Great Depression, I listened to the songs by myself in the basement and contemplated what it would be like to have a girlfriend that was my best friend (never happened), or to meet the love of my life (which I think is now my poodle Weezy), or be in love with my car (I do really, really like my 4runner, but I haven't given it a name yet, so can I really say that I'm in love with it?), or have a lady call me sweet like I'm some kind of cheese (also never happened---oh, wait, Julie does that all the time!). 

Hmmm...maybe it's time to take this album on a roadtrip with Julie for a seaside rendezvous where I can be her Valentino.

What a damn jolly good idea! Give us a kiss!

Nardo

6. Back in Black by AC/DC

 6. Back in Black by AC/DC

Hell's Bells

Shoot to Thrill

What Do You Do for Money Honey

Givin' the Dog a Bone

Let Me Put My Love Into You

Back in Black

You Shook Me All Night Long

Have a Drink on Me

Shake a Leg

Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution

Let's be honest about Back in Black. It's a magnificent mixed bag of bona fide rock and roll classics and forgettable filler. It's got four iconic hits that AC/DC fans expect to hear at any concert--"Hell's Bells," "Shoot to Thrill," "Back in Black," and "You Shook Me All Night Long." I say "hits" but the word does not communicate the level of importance these four songs have to the band's die hard fans. If the band were to NOT play any one of these songs at a concert, the fans would riot. Now, I'm not sure how you would tell the difference between regular AC/DC concert behavior and a riot. But I guarantee there would be a riot. 

Yes, they could get away with not playing "Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution," but some fans would be mighty disappointed. I personally like this song a lot. Once when I was listening to AC/DC on headphones at work, one coworker who was always doing stuff to annoy me ask me to turn down the volume on my headphones because she could hear the music. I said "Okay," and before she even made it back to her cubicle way on the other side of the room, I switched the song to "Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution" and kept the volume loud enough that my nearby coworkers would hear it and get the joke.

The rest of the songs on Back in Black might get slipped onto a concert playlist every now and then, but it's hard to find these other songs on the AC/DC official YouTube channel, and they don't offer any concert footage of them at all. That's not saying they aren't worth listening to. I think that the fillers on this album actually sound pretty good. It's just that when you put them on the same record as those four core songs, they are clearly second-tier material. 

Today this album is unarguably recognized as the apex of AC/DC's discography. But that wasn't the case when it was released in July of 1980. Many AC/DC fans complained that Brian Johnson's singing wasn't up to par with Bon Scott's. But the entire album was a tribute to Bon, including the color of the cover, which signified their mourning of Bon's passing. And to show their respects to Bon, they didn't use any of the lyrics he had written for some of the songs so that they would not benefit financially from his passing. Brian had to come up with new lyrics, and he paid tribute to Bon with those lyrics several times over, so I don't know what the die-hard Bon fans had to complain about. The man had died of alcohol poisoning. What was the band supposed to do? Put away their instruments and never play again? No way. If any other band member had died, Bon would have kept on singing new songs, and the band knew that, so instead of honoring his life with their silence, they honored it by recording the best-selling heavy metal album of all time. And I think that's a more fitting tribute.

I don't have a lot of high school memories of this album. It was one of those albums that seminary teachers and youth conference speakers loved to rail against. If anyone complained about Billy Joel's less than ideal lyrics, I could always say, "Hey, at least I'm not listening to AC/DC." But I did turn into a fan later on in life when my nephew Ryan and I went to an AC/DC concert in Salt Lake City during their Stiff Upper Lip tour. After that, I started listening to a lot of their music, and it was clear to me that Back in Black was the best of all their albums. 

But as much as I like this album, there is one persistent drawback to it--I feel both young and old at the same time whenever I listen to it. I mean, it came out in 1980 before I even started 9th grade, so it reminds me of my teenage years in Arimo. But here I am 40 years later listening to it and claiming it's better than the vast majority of music that's been put out since then--at least, that's what I think I'm saying by placing it so high on my Top 60 album list. That's why this album reminds me of the following Bill Burr comedy bit so much. 

It’s one of the sad things about life. You get old and it passes you by. I feel it passing me by. I’m 46 years old. I don’t even have kids, but I can’t keep up anymore. I had a college gig coming up, I was like, I gotta figure out what these kids are into. I was 24 when a senior was born. I got to figure out what these dudes are into, so I guess they’re into like, this like DJ music or some shit, so I’m like, all right, I’ll watch some of this. You know? So I have like a reference or two. I don’t want to be that old comic coming to the gig being like, “What’s up with this Monica Lewinsky? Is this crazy? I mean, this Y2K– Is my stylus gonna work? I don’t know.” So I put this shit on. Dude, I lasted 90 seconds. Ninety seconds. I was open-minded. “All right, put it on!” Ninety seconds later, I’m like this old man. “Ah, this isn’t music!” You know? “When I was a kid, you dressed like a woman and you sung about the devil. Now, that was music! And you had one ballad every album, started off in black and white, and when the guitar solo came in, it went to color. Yeah, that was music.”

I kind of feel that way about this album. It defines what I think of as great rock and roll music, but it also reminds me that maybe I'm a little older than I'd like to be, and death is creeping up on me, and that I've got fewer years ahead of me than the ones I've lived since this album came out. And when I see videos of Angus Young performing on stage today, I can't help but think two thoughts at the same time. One thought is "This is so awesome to see him in that school uniform, banging his head, doing the duck walk, and strutting on stage like the Rock God that he is!" The other thought is, "Man, he looks old. And his knees must be killing him! How long will he be able to keep this up? How long will it be until me and my generation dies and all this music gets forgotten? How long until I hear Hells Bells tolling for me?"

But I suppose the answer to my question is in the last song on Back in Black.  

We're just talkin' about the future
Forget about the past
It'll always be with us
It's never gonna die, never gonna die

Rock 'n' roll ain't noise pollution
Rock 'n' roll ain't gonna die
Rock 'n' roll ain't noise pollution
Rock 'n' roll, it will survive (Yes it will!)

Nardo

7. Gaucho by Steely Dan

7. Gaucho by Steely Dan

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBdv_tqVqkw&list=OLAK5uy_nY5vTbyJQBHmubrYmo49x0ZNq8zrIh7CM&index=1

Gaucho was released in November of 1980, and while I enjoyed the songs "Hey Nineteen" and "Time Out of Mind" when I heard them on the radio back then, I really didn't appreciate the awesomeness of Steely Dan, or this entire album, until grad school when Erik started getting into playing jazz piano and we had a lot of jazz music being played in the house all the time. Tom Banyas gave me an appreciation for jazz, and having had the opportunity to play a few jazz solos on my flugelhorn during band tour, I have always fantasized what it would be like to play in a group like Steely Dan. Also, it's got somewhat of a timeless sound, as it's one of the bands that Erik and I can both listen to with equal enjoyment, and he often plays their songs when he's painting.

Why are Steely Dan records so good? Because they don't think that they have to do it all themselves. They are not afraid to use oodles of session musicians to record different parts of different songs. For example, they will invite multiple guitarists to play on different songs on an album, depending on what kind of sound they're going for. Also, Steely Dan has a reputation for excellence that is legendary among musicians. No detail is too small to escape their attention. Their records have won multiple Grammys for engineering, and it is customary for engineers to use Steely Dan records to check the sound on their systems. In fact, St. Vincent once fired a sound engineer on the spot when she found out the guy didn't use Steely Dan to do the sound check before she started recording for one of her albums. Because of this level of perfection in their music, when Gaucho was released, it was the most expensive album ever made up to that point. They had 42 other musicians playing on it, and they'd do 40 or more takes of each song recording. Also, the engineer spent over $150,000 (over $500,000 in today's dollars) just to create a drum machine. So, yeah, this album won a Grammy for sound engineering too.

I like lots of other Steely Dan albums, but this one is just chock-a-block full of great songs that you can listen to over and over, which is a good thing, because it's only 7 songs long, which means if you're in the mood to listen to some Gaucho, you're going to have to listen to the album two or three times before the mood has time to pass. But because the music is so complex, and because the lyrics are so clever (they are masters of irony), it always seems like there's something else to explore in the music each time you listen to it. The chord progressions, the harmonies, the instrumentation--it all makes the earbones go "Ahhhhhh!" 

So go ahead and relax, sit back, and chill out to some Steely Dan and imagine what it would be like to play jazz trombone for them. 

By the way, "Hondo Joe" would make a great jazz nickname for a trombonist!

Nardo