Published on Dec 28, 2000
For my first review after a long hiatus (don’t ask), I thought
it would be time to bring back a much-underappreciated band to “The
Daily Vault,” since that’s part of what this website is all about.
In the case of Utopia, you’ve got a band with an unmistakable
leader / songwriter / producer / genius in Todd Rundgren, who has
achieved plenty of success on his own, but who attempted to be part
of a democratic band process for over a decade in the midst of his
most creative solo period. Make no mistake about who wore the pants
in this band, though.
So what’s it like? Well, many an ’80s power-rocker would have
loved to have crafted such pure pop masterpieces that grace this
album. Take “Bad Little Actress,” which boasts an infectious,
angular melody and weaves as many acting metaphors as possible into
the bitter tale of a love gone bad. “Her performance was outrageous
/ put me through some changes,” “Her delivery / don’t come
naturally,” and “so if you see her give her my critique,” for
example. “There Goes My Inspiration” is the painting equivalent of
“Actress;” “They say that I’m a master of technique / but my style
and my sentiment is weak.” This pair of tunes can’t help but bring
tears to anyone’s eyes.
And then there’s the lighter side of breakup, covered in “Feet
Don’t Fail Me Now,” which one-ups the Beatle imitations Utopia had
recently done by being as catchy as virtually anything on
A Hard Day’s Night. No, really. And while lines like “it
feels like my feet have been crazy glued” are a tad clumsy, it’s a
novelty song that’s just serious enough for you to take it as high
pop art.
“Call It What You Will” is in a similar vein, with some soaring
harmonies and a quintessential early ’80s keyboard-drenched
arrangement that still manages to rock with genuine intensity –
when Rundgren sings “Love is not the name for that thaaaang” it
drowns out even the super-dense production in the background.
“Forgotten But Not Gone” is great too, and features an
ever-persistent guitar break that just won’t relent. How could you
not be moved by a song with the refrain “I’m the invisible
man?”
But
Utopia isn’t all teenage gloom and doom – “Hammer In My
Heart” is a raunchy, danceable anthem of infatuation, containing
the unforgettable line “It’s like a top ten song / you hear it all
day long / you try to turn it off, but the beat goes on.” A
hammer-like pounding drum ensues, just in case the point hadn’t
already been made. “Princess Of The Universe” suggests strong
Freddie Mercury influence as Rundgren frames himself once again as
an unworthy suitor.
There’s plenty of Rundgren as sensitive-guy on this album too,
just to please the old fans. “Neck On Up” proclaims that once “I
was a typical man / I had a master plan / I thought that heaven
began from the waist on down,” but goes on to say “But I found my
heaven / she’s a perfect eleven / (from the neck on up).” The
comparatively-subtle “Chapter and Verse” is the most gripping – OK,
the only – song ever to use crossword puzzles and Scrabble letters
as a vehicle for a man trying to let his emotional guard down.
So why wasn’t this album more of a success? Well, that opens up
the larger questions of why Utopia was never quite able to ride on
the heels of Rundgren’s name to a wider audience – one of those
classic unsolved rock and roll mysteries. They certainly tried –
evolving from their mid-’70s forays into prog-rock mysticism into a
well-oiled power pop machine by the turn of the ’80s, they tasted
brief top 40 success in early 1980 with “Set Me Free,” but instead
of following up the album from which that track hailed (
Adventures In Utopia) with a similar one, they took some
brilliant but bizarre left turns into mock-Beatle tribute (
Deface The Music) and anti-Reaganomics preaching (
Swing To The Right“), effectively squashing their own
momentum before attempting one last time to break into the
mainstream.
This 1982 self-titled album represents that attempt, and had it
followed Utopia’s 1980 success, I still think it would have been a
hit, a guilty generation X pleasure along the lines of Bryan Adams’
Reckless or Journey’s
Escape. Say what you will about the cheesiness (in fact,
call it what you will!), but that’s not bad company. Be sure to buy
the version of this disc with the extra five songs (“Chapter” and
“Princess” among them) that were originally included on a miniature
7-inch record.