Published on Jul 20, 1998
Shortly before Denise Henderson left the review panel of “The
Daily Vault,” we got to talking about upcoming releases. I
mentioned that I read on CMC International’s Web site there was
going to be a new release from Christopher Cross. Her response to
me was, “Oh,
he’s still around?”
Fact is, Cross never left – he just dropped off the radio radar
after hits like “Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do)” and “Think
Of Laura” in the first half of the ’80s. Musical tastes, always a
fickle thing, did a 180 degree turn from the gentle type of music
that Cross was creating. This, combined with the fact that Cross
decided to write songs from the heart and not meant to hit the top
of the charts, almost spelled career suicide. (The last many people
heard of him was when he wrote a song that was used on the TV show
Growing Pains.)
But the ’90s are a decade of once-forgotten musicians to come
out of the gates swinging, and Cross does so with
Walking In Avalon, a two-disc set combining both new studio
work and a live show which wraps up Cross’s career to that point.
And both are done remarkably well.
Whether Cross is writing songs that are meant to hit the charts
or not, the music on the studio portion of this disc is some of the
best I’ve heard from him ever. The first single, “When She Smiles,”
is a Cinderella-type story for the ’90s (complete with its
reference to Starbucks) that is a catchy, heart-warming number
that, given the right breaks, should be a major hit on the AC
charts. (Here’s hoping some radio programmers grow a set of balls –
yeah, you know who you are – and actually give this song and album
a chance.) The title track, another wonderful love song, shows how
oil-and-water couples can find common ground and co-exist together
(“It’s cool that I like John and you like Paul” is one sample
lyric).
But not all on
Walking In Avalon is all smiles. On “Hunger,” Cross sings
about the loss of a lover, and the hesitation one feels when faced
with the possibility of finding this person again (“I’m scared that
I’ll find you / I’m scared even more I never will”). The approach
taken on this song is both spooky and enthralling.
The pop anthems just roll off the disc faster than you can keep
track. “It’s Always Something” might seem a little corny at the
start, but it quickly turns itself into a poerful song with an
infectious chorus. Likewise, “Kind Of I Love You” is another track
that could equal some of the biggest success Cross has had in his
career, if only the fates align for him.
The second half of
Walking In Avalon is the equivalent of a “greatest-hits
live” package – but seeing it’s been well over a decade since Cross
had major success on the airwaves, this will most likely serve as
an introduction of his past catalog to new listeners. The show does
one thing that’s the hardest to do on live albums: it captures a
lot of the magic that the actual live performance created. (This
doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind seeing a video of this concert come
out soon – the people at Best Buy are beginning to forget what I
look like.)
The older songs that made Cross a household name for a while,
such as “Ride Like The Wind,” “Sailing” and “Arthur’s Theme (Best
That You Can Do),” have lost none of their magic, and have even
become better thanks to the fact that you rarely hear these cuts
anymore. The old saying is true: absence
does make the heart grow fonder. It’s wonderful to hear
these songs again, performed almost exactly the way I remember
them. (Even Michael McDonald returns to add harmony vocals to “Ride
Like The Wind”.)
Of all these songs, two stand out in my mind. “Think Of Laura,”
to be honest, was a puke-and-gag song when I was a teenager, simply
because it was used in conjunction with a soap opera. In fact, the
song was written for a friend of Cross’s who died far too young. In
this context, and over a decade removed from its glory days, the
song becomes one of Cross’s most beautiful works ever. The other
song, “Deputy Dan,” is an autobiographical song about Cross’s
chosen career path and, as he called it, the “fifteen minutes of
fame” he experienced. (Somehow, I don’t think that Cross is bitter
that he didn’t remain a big name all this time; it’s given him a
chance to succeed on his own terms.)
Admittedly, I was a little skeptical about Cross’s work in 1998
when I first heard about
Walking In Avalon (I’m a rock critic; it’s my job to assume
there are grey clouds behind silver linings). But this album
captures all the magic that Cross created in 1981 and freshly
reworks it for today. The biggest drawback he’s going to have is
audience apathy… though I think that would disappear faster than
a plate of pasta in front of Dom DeLuise once people hear the
music.
Cross once owned the airwaves with his own style of pop music.
If radio gives
Walking In Avalon a fair shot on the air (you know what that
means, kids… call your favorite station and demand they play the
damn thing), and people listen to the album with an open mind,
they’ll discover the same thing I did. Even if Cross has been
around all this time, he’s definitely a front runner for Comeback
Of The Year with this album.