The Left Turn Albums
ISSUE #154
Each musician carves a path up industry’s mountain. The air gets thinner with every step. Those lucky enough to hit the treeline then face a choice: climb on and try to replicate the success that brought them here, or take a left turn and try to write the world something new.
This issue is dedicated to those Left Turn Albums, the follow ups to big hits that try out new sounds. They’re bloated. They’re weird. They’re often incoherent. Many stretch past twenty or thirty songs. They’re derided at first, then later admired. Each is brave in its own indulgent way.
Prime examples are Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk—their fractured, million-dollar follow up to Rumors—and the 36-song brick that was Sandinista!, The Clash’s triple album which followed London Calling. The Age of Adz saw Sufjan picking up synths, mirroring Paul in the 80s with McCartney II. Bon Iver went glitch mode in 2016. There’s the lo-fi Smiley Smile, the Funkadelica of "Awaken, My Love!" and the party rock emo of Danger Days. Last week saw St. Vincent entering the Hall of Left Turns.
Their pattern is evidence of freedom's pull, our inherent drive to keep changing the scenery. They're also probably a symptom of coke. Still, our hearts run on the fuel of surprise, the struck match of novelty lighting our way. Reach the top of the mountain and you only face descent, but take a turn and you might catch whiff of a new breeze.
Irv Teibel, who released the influential Environments records over ten years from 1969–79, was a pioneer in putting field recordings (i.e., nature sounds) into the hands of stressed-out college students and, eventually, anyone who needed to drown out all the noise. Turns out that was a lot of people.