Duke (1980)

 

Duke

Artist: Genesis
Release Year: 1980

Rating: 6/10

Track Listing: 1) Behind the Lines; 2) Duchess; 3) Guide Vocal; 4) Man of Our Times; 5) Misunderstanding; 6) Heathaze; 7) Turn It On Again; 8) Alone Tonight; 9) Cul De Sac; 10) Please Don’t Ask; 11) Duke’s Travels; 12) Duke’s End.

First of all, Duke was supposed to be a concept album, but the story came out in only about half the songs.  Look at that album cover and tell me what you think the story is about.  If you’re anything like me, that depressingly accurate prediction of 2010s corporate-Memphis-style minimalism is the quintessential depiction of midlife crisis: a fat, hunched-over, defeated man looks longingly out the window at a world that’s ostensibly waiting for him; yet, the moon clearly indicates it’s too late to do much.  Again, this universal tragedy only officially made it into a handful of the tracks, but the mood pervades throughout.  This album screams “beige waiting room” more than anything before it, and no amount of bright, shimmery production will override that feeling.  So then, why do I still give it a decent rating?  Why do I still listen to this one more than several of its predecessors?  Well, that’s hard to pin down, but I’ll try my best.

First, in spite of the lethargy suggested by the overall product, there are some really strong moments on this album that provide just enough momentum to propel us through some of the more generic stretches.  “Behind the Lines” kicks things off with a peppy, bouncy verse with some nice twists and turns, and the “writ-ten in the book!” chorus hook is really solid.  “Guide Vocal” is short but heartfelt, and placing it after “Duchess” instead of before it only increases the sense of longing, as if the Duchess herself were left standing alone on a dark stage, her glory days forgotten.  “Heathaze” is heartfelt with great lyrics and tender melodic shifts to convey them, though it is marred by saccharine production: a harbinger of what’s to come on Side B.

Then there are the hits.  “Misunderstanding” is smarmy and cheeky but still catchy as hell, and I don’t mind it.  “Turn It On Again” is better, with the weird meter and driving chorus providing probably the biggest breath of air amid the blandness of the album.

Unfortunately, we also have a sea of synth-pop to wade through in between the high points, and although there’s not quite enough of that to turn me away from the album, it does come close.  “Man of Our Times” and “Alone Tonight” could have been great, especially with Phil’s excellent vocal performance in each desperate chorus, if not for that overproduction that plants us right back into that album cover.  Then, after the hits are over, “Cul-De-Sac” and “Please Don’t Ask” provide two entirely forgettable tracks, easily the worst part of this album; and finally, we come to twin songs “Duke’s Travels” and “Duke’s End”, which do hearken back to the old prog days, albeit more in their combined ten-minute structure than in actual feel.  It’s all glistening, shimmery, annoying synths for me, and that’s that.  Bleh.

So, again, we have some really great pop songwriting moments, driven into the ground by that infernal beast we call the Eighties.  Most of these songs would have been much, much greater as standalones or in another context, and without such synth-heavy production of course.  But, as it stands, this is a weird case of the collective product being far blander than its constituent molecules, if you will.  Phil sounds great on both the drums and on the mic, but of course, Tony Banks buries things in synths, and that’s what really grates on me.  And what of Mike Rutherford?  I assume he just kinda followed along, but what do I know?