Going All the Way: The Raspberries' self-titled LP

Hello, gentlemen.

This review is meant to be read in conjunction with the (probably superior) review of the Raspberries' second album, Fresh Raspberries, written by Sean Rose at his blog.  By that, I mean, you're supposed to read them both at the exact same time.

It's truly a wonder and a shame that despite four solid albums and some of the best pop singles of the '70s that the Raspberries have been relegated to used record racks and hard-to-find CD compilations.  Their body of music, consisting of four LPs has generally become esoteric, and were it not for a few oldies radio stations that'll play "Go All the Way" and "I Wanna Be With You," the band would be at the extreme risk of fading into complete obscurity, a mere footnote to be mentioned with similarly ill-fated power-pop acts like Badfinger and the Dwight Twilley Band.  Big Star was at least able to gain a massive cult following as well as (or because of) accolades from the hip, modern, indie power-poppers.  Maybe if Bob Mould wrote a tune called "Eric Carmen," the Raspberries could have their discography remastered and get a shitty rating from Pitchfork as well.

Sadly, that prospect looks doubtful, and while this is unfortunate, it personally made stumbling upon the band's first two records at Merle's Record Rack that much more rewarding.  Here, on the Raspberries' self-titled first (and arguably best) album, the band finds itself immediately in top form, recently graduated from the McCartney School of Songwriting and showing off their chops.  This album has it all - "come on, come on"'s, "baby, baby"'s, syrupy strings, canned horns, jangly guitars, little verses, big choruses and hooks to spare.  If that sounds formulaic, it's because it is, but for this band, and the entire power-pop genre as a whole, sticking to the oldest tricks in the book yields the most immediate results.

For an album featuring songs that rarely stray from an established rubric, Raspberries displays the full range of the band's songwriting capabilities and proves itself to be an entertaining and diverse listen.  Sure, they're all love songs, and they never move past the typical clichés lyrically, but here that only helps maintain consistency and naturally keeps the songs from becoming overbearing.  Musically, though, they milk the love song for all it's worth, and run through all its possible motions, letting good-times, boogie-woogie tunes ("Rock and Roll Mama," "Get It Movin'") sit alongside tender ballads ("I Saw the Light, "Waiting").  Again, the McCartney-isms are pretty blatant, but the Raspberries have the good judgment to borrow songwriting styles from the man's entire career.  "Come Around and See Me" recalls "I've Just Seen a Face" with its joyful demeanor and folksy acoustic work, while the oompah horns of "With You in My Life" come straight from "When I'm Sixty-Four."  The most obvious influence is on the saccharine "Waiting," a song that lifts both its structure and mood from "Yesterday," although Carmen's aching and sentimental vocals help the song stand on its own to jerk the tears out of listeners.  (Retroactively, the tune also provides great foresight.  Carmen would alter it a little bit, add some Rachmaninoff and come out with the song that defined his solo career, "All By Myself.")

It would be foolish to write Raspberries off as just a bunch of Beatles rewrites, however, and Carmen's hyper-romanticism helps shape out some of the album's best songs into golden works no one else could have written.  I was tempted to write that the songs had a strong air of naïveté to them, although opening track and lead-off single "Go All the Way" immediately disproves this, due to its obvious sexual implications.  Still, Carmen's suave, yet innocuous delivery and the band's proficient tight playing help establish the song as an absolute power-pop gem and it may be the best tune the Razzies ever wrote (and as a further note, the arpeggiated descending lick that comes after the final "don't ever let me go-oh-oh!" is one of the greatest moments in pop history.  Good God).  "Don't Want to Say Goodbye" starts off as a slow-burner, but ultimately rewards listeners with a defiant chorus backed by a strong groove from Carmen and drummer Jim Bonfanti.  For the grand finale, the group assembled "I Can Remember," a (relative) behemoth of a track at eight minutes in length, and one that embodies everything excessive and subsequently wonderful about bombastic love songs.  It moves from piano ballad to jangle-pop rocker and even contains a pompous fanfare that would end the record, were it not for a massive reprise of the tune's chorus.

Over the band's next three records, they would find themselves maintaining their impeccable songwriting skills over both singles ("I Wanna Be With You," "Tonight," "Overnight Sensation (Hit Record)") and album tracks ("If You Change Your Mind," "On the Beach"), but their self-titled debut manages to best capture the full realm of the Raspberries' capabilities.  With such songwriting sensibilities as proven here, the fact that they never maintained a stable audience past the '70s makes the Raspberries one of the greatest hidden treasures in the pop canon.  Blame it all on the bouffants.