‘Kilroy Was Here’, a 1983 ‘concept’ album by Styx
I recently did a deep dive through my record collection. I was supposed to be doing something else entirely. But out of the corner of my eye, I spied them. Neatly filed on the Ikea shelves which some years back I purposely bought to house them. The long row of LP records. All in alphabetical order, naturally – because that is just who I am.
Too easily, I allowed myself to be distracted from the task at hand. Because, that is also who I am. I slowly thumbed my way through them. I pulled out the odd record to more closely scrutinize its cover. With most, I slowly nodded my head in satisfaction, acknowledging to myself smugly that the album I delicately held in my hands was an enduringly wise purchase. Conversely, there were a couple of others which had me shaking my head in wonder: had I actually forked out my hard-earned to bring that home from the record store?
There were many other reactions in between. Smiling at the memory of the first ever album I purchased with my own (pocket) money when still in primary school, The Sweet Singles Album. Grimacing, perhaps slightly embarrassed, at the five Pat Benatar records, all bought when I was a teenager infatuated with female singers. Scratching my head at some of my more random acquisitions: Eye in the Sky by The Alan Parsons Project, The Most of Herman’s Hermits, London 0 Hull 4 by The Housemartins, among others.
My Housemartins record is also in very good condition
Then there was what I refer to as the “backbone” of the collection. The albums on which I cut my musical teeth. Plenty of Beatles, of course. A bevy of Led Zeppelin releases, all purchased before I started secondary school. And a suite of albums by REM, the band whom I accidentally stumbled upon in the Rowden White Library at Melbourne Uni, in a ‘Road to Damascus’ moment.
The compact disc boom saw my record collection lie dormant, as I turned my attention to CDs. Then I belatedly joined the post-CD wave. I purchased a turntable and plenty of new vinyl: Teskey Brothers, Dropkick Murphys, Smith Street Band. I delighted in the latent familiarity and solemnity of removing with care the disc from its protective plastic cover, delicately placing it on the turntable, and gracefully dropping the stylus onto the edge of the record. Every one of my records captures a moment in time. Telling a story. My story. It follows that, in its entirety, my humble collection tells the story of my music-loving life.
However, there is one album which is – and no doubt forever will remain – the worst that I own. When flicking through my records, I paused when I saw it. I grabbed it from the shelf and opened the gatefold sleeve. Kilroy Was Here, a ‘concept’ album by the American band Styx, was an album I considered to be so terrible when I bought it 1983, that it remains in pristine condition. Because I played it only once before condemning it to gather dust. I pondered – had time, that healer of all wounds, been favourable…?
Kilroy’s sleeve helpfully includes a synopsis of the album’s ‘concept’ story
In the late 70’s, Styx had a hit with the song Babe, an ear-worm which I presume still gets a run on easy-listening radio. It is a ‘nice’ track, but I was never into that into it. So, to this day, I could not even begin to suggest why Kilroy Was Here (which does not contain Babe) sits on my record shelf. For 42 years it has mocked me, a reminder that LP purchases were – and still are – a process to be considered carefully, given the monetary and emotional investment involved.
Holding it with my fingertips, I decided that there was only one thing for it. So, I gave it another chance, and dropped the needle on Side 1 Track 1. Had I been too critical, too harsh, too quick to judgement all those years ago? Would I reappraise its worth, at a bare minimum perhaps rating it as being “so bad that it is good”?
Sadly, the answer was no. It was obvious that the years have been cruelly unkind. The album is awash with 80’s synthesizers, power ballads, cheesy lyrics, an incomprehensible storyline only partially explained by the sleeve notes, and laughably predictable soft-rock guitar solos. Wikipedia informed me that Styx are still around, some 50-odd years after their formation, but they do not perform any songs from this album in their live shows. I placed the record back in its sleeve, returned it to the shelf, and surmised that in all likelihood it will never be played again. Bought when I was seventeen years old, even Kilroy Was Here tells a fragment of my story. Just what, I am yet to decipher.
You can read more from Smokie HERE
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Dare I say it Smokie but … ‘Here comes the Aussies.’ from the 1972 Ashes tour
Explosive Radio Hits 1978. Opens with Everest: Wuthering Heights and save for LRB, JPY, and Hot Chocolate, fall off a cliff.
PS- yes to your Styx view but I find Can’t Fight This Feeling oddly compelling despite its melodrama and power ballad cliches.
Hang on, that’s REO Speedwagon who, as we know, are entirely interchangeable with Styx!
I won’t hear a bad word about the Housemartins Smokie. I even had a brief dalliance with Alan Parsons, but only from the library.
Checked my CDs, have absolutely no idea why Nelly Furtado and Jamiroquai are in there, no recollection of buying them at all. My Split Enz completeness was the reason for The Makers appearing there, sorry Eddie Rayner but thats’s one disc that won’t get played again.
Nary a vinyl regret though, not much of a risk taker back then I suppose.
Smokie, I didn’t see any mention of cassettes. How did you listen in your car in the 80s?
There were some embarrassing early 45’s from my High School days (keeping Mum happy). Paul Mauriat Orchestra “Love is Blue” comes to mind. Though I’d still defend my purchase of Mason Williams’ “Classical Gas”. Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich’s “Legend of Xanadu” was my first act of rebellion.
Into my 20’s I bought some Prog Rock shockers in a desperate attempt to look cool. Don’t remember the individual albums but there were a couple of King Crimson’s that never got a repeat play.
Thanks Smokie
I am in agreement with PB re Classical Gas and Dave Dee et al.
After viewing Norton Buffalo’s* extraordinary harmonica gyrations on the Bonnie Raitt version of Del Shannon’s Runaway, I purchased Norton’s album “Lovin’ In The Valley Of The Moon”.
Underwhelming in the extreme.
* I presume this is a pseudonym
I have that Housemartins album too Smoke. I loved The Sweet as a kid and saw them in perth when i was 12. They were going rogue away from Chinn and Chapman releasing Action and Fox on the Run so i bought the album A nods as good as a wink. Worse decision ever. Utter crap. There was another band i got sucked into buying based only on NME reviews, Prefab Sprout. Next worse decision. Cheers
Hi Smokie. When I was a youngster, I was as much a buyer of singles as I was LPs. Usually, I would purchase the album on the basis of liking a single or two of the band or solo artist concerned. My feeling is that I simply couldn’t name the worst LP I ever bought – it’s just too hard to come up with one. What I do put forward here, though, is a general observation about most (not all) of the albums I purchased – they had a couple of really good tracks, usually the singles, and the rest of the songs were filler crap, or close to it. So often I felt ripped off by the overall album.
Hi All,
Thanks for all your comments and contributing to the discussion.
I did have the distinct sense that this piece would tease out some memories.
Smokie
There’s a great scene in ‘Hi Fidelity’, a dscussion about filing records. 25 years ago I started a spreadsheet of albums, when I wrote ‘Hendrix, Jimi, Experience, The’, I thought “this is bloody stupid!” and changed to first names of artist
Screaming Jay Hawkins is under S, f’rinstance. Kill City is filed w Stooges but Idiot and onward w Iggy.
Oh, it does get tricky.
Fair play re: owning up to the Styx.
I feel that Styx just exist to give KISS fans something to mock.
I have been wracking my brain trying to come up with my worst record but haven’t been able to pinpoint one. There are probably some dud CD’s that I sold and wiped from my memory. That said I gave quite a few ‘one and done’ album purchases from over the years. Some by legendary artists that just didn’t hit the spot for whatever reason.
For what it’s worth, I file by genre and then band within the genre.
Greg
I file various artists albums under genre but questions remain. Where does one draw the lines between blues, R&B and soul? When does pop become power pop? What is punk pop?
My VA cds are in a mess, I am grappling with these questions.
My version of a genre filing system probably only makes sense to me.
Using punk as an example, the UK punk of The Clash is stored separately from 70’s US punk of The Stooges which is then in a different spot to the 80’s US punk of Bad Religion!
The important thing is that I know where to find them.
I also keep my new and second hand albums separate for whatever reason.
(I do use the Discogs app to record my catalogue – this is in alpha order.)
If I had to use the alphabetical system for the physical albums I just wouldn’t feel right having ‘Dirt’ by Alice In Chains housed alongside ‘Point of Departure’ by Andrew Hill. It would give me the willies!
Same with Miles Davis and Minor Threat.
I have found that the easiest way to deal with the pop v power pop distinction is to just avoid the genre altogether!
Smokie,
I think it’s good you have acknowledged the Styx album. The healing can now begin.
Your story inspired me to look through my old record collection for howlers. For some unexplained reason I found a Brian Mannix single. I blame my sister but maybe I’m in denial. I will have to seek clarity at the next family dinner.
Regarding the filing method of albums, I am also an advocate for the alphabetical method. As a colleague once told me when I was lecturing at RMIT in the early ‘90s, the potential problem with a filing system is remembering what the system is. I didn’t think I could go too far wrong with the alphabetical one.
Enjoyed the read,
John
Air Supply — debit LP —what was I thinking? Mint condition, any takers? ( Love and other bruisers was the hit)
Confession: I’ve a couple crates of vinyl, one next to each speaker and there’s no organisation whatsoever! Multiple Dylan, Jackson Browne, Skyhooks all over the place. I find the randomness appealing and it offers the illusion of surprise when I’m flicking through. Apologies if some find this disturbing!
Great comments!
Mickey, I presume that once you play that random album it goes straight the back of the crate?
Hi Smokie, I have wracked my brain trying to think of a worst record in my collection. Trouble is, when I left Perf for Melbourne in 1992 I sold all my vinyl. Well, I kept a couple of crates of country albums and some records that meant a little extra.
I’m dead sure I have a stinker or two in there (and by the way, appreciate yer bravery acknowledging Syx, I mean Styx). The best I can muster is that 80s band, The Alarm album Declaration, which I bought at the time thinking they were another The Clash. They so weren’t. Actually, even worse than that was that awful early 90s band, Live and their album, Throwing Copper. I’ll let my good friend, the esteemed music critic, Robert Christgau sum that up: On stage, this intently mediocre young band is U2 without a guitar sound. On record, it’s R.E.M. without songs.
I did go through my crates to see if any of the albums I had kept had outlived their welcome. None have. However, I did wonder as I flicked through artist by artist whether one can have too many Jimmy Buffett records. The answer is of course, nuh.
Cheers
“We’re an American Band’ . Grand Funk Railroad. Don’t ask.
But dang Peter B, what the hell is there not to love about;
Esta es la leyenda de Xanadu
You’ll hear my voice, on the wind, ‘cross the sand
If you should return
To that black barren land that bears the name of Xanadu…
CRACK.
Someone gave me a Styx LP recently. Said they had two copies. Have I been caught up in some elaborate scam?
I used to get embarrassed by albums and sell them at a secondhand place. Then later realise I was cooler than I realised and regret the loss.