Now we present two original articles about Robert Palmer. "Robert Palmer: Unassuming Sophistication" is a summary of the artist's career and explains why his fans love his "special brand of magic". "Robert Palmer: An Intimate Tribute" is an eloquent and heartfelt letter to Robert that paints a wonderful picture of the way he touched the author's life. Enjoy them both!
Robert Palmer: Unassuming Sophistication
by Angelica Candelaria
What can be said of Robert Palmer? Upon initial glance he epitomizes suave: dapper, handsome, clad in designer suits and ties, exuding sensuality and glamor from every angle. Yet what most captures the attention is his wonderful ability to interpret an impressive array of distinct genres and brilliantly get away with it. This, the most appealing of his talents, may also contribute to his lack of mainstream popularity, which he ever-so-briefly enjoyed in the mid-eighties. Who can forget the song and video that propelled him to such heights? "Addicted To Love" was a certifiable rock hit and the oft-parodied, campy video that accompanied it was even more memorable, featuring an unlikely band of pasty-faced models sheathed in black dresses and heels, their severe mouths brilliantly highlighted by red lipstick, their unexpressive eyes gazing at some unknown point in the distance, bodies coolly swaying as they "played" the instruments. What a striking backdrop for the well-dressed man at the forefront, lip-synching the hit he once said became a "rock anthem" for America during its meteoric rise to the top of the Billboard charts.
As much as I enjoy "Addicted To Love" and the subsequent rock/pop hits that followed, they are not true representations of Palmer's artistic prowess. In fact, none of the tracks that generated such massive success for him in the States begin to describe the colorful nuances of his musical history. With a solo career spanning three decades, this performer/writer/producer/arranger/musician has consistently released a catalog of innovative, eclectic material, fearlessly exploring territories that many artists refuse to tread. Remaining true to the prompting of his own creative expression, he has delved into many musical styles, beautifully weaving influences from all over the world into the tapestry of his work. He travels easily from the romanticism of a bossa nova number to the intensity of a guitar-driven melody, from the playful joy of an African beat to the clear, straightforward delivery of an electronic rhythm. Whatsoever the framework, in all instances he moves the spirit, injecting a special brand of magic into the landscape of music and the hearts of those who listen.
There are many compilations to choose from for those who desire a general introduction to Palmer's work, yet my own personal recommendations include
"Addictions Volume I" and
"Addictions Volume II". Both releases feature tracks selected by Palmer himself, some of which have been reworked but nevertheless retain the enticing charm of the original recordings.
My other recommendation for those who crave a bolder glimpse into Palmer's material is
"Woke Up Laughing", a compilation of songs that clearly demonstrates his diverse musical influences. It is a spirited celebration of music from all over the world that casts an indelible impression upon the senses.
These releases, along with many others, can be purchased by clicking on
this Amazon.com link.
Robert Palmer: An Intimate Tribute
by Angelica Candelaria
At its commencement, my musical love affair with you consisted of dazzling flashes of brilliance. Your melodies resembled shooting stars in the vastness of my childlike reasoning, leaving in its wake a memorable glow that nevertheless disappeared as quickly as it had manifested itself. I did not possess the discernment at the time to deliberately cast my eyes upward to seek you, yet your voice eventually found me and nestled itself into the niches of my heart.
I remember leaning forward in the simplicity of my childhood to watch you for the first time, my attention riveted to the screen. There you were in brilliant Technicolor, striking in aspect with your crisp white shirt and black tie. A highly pleasing visual contrasted by the guitar-driven melody accompanying it. Were rock stars supposed to be this well-dressed? pondered my ten-year-old mind. I was immediately infatuated. However, being single-minded in my loyalties to the sounds of the group Berlin, I had no inclination to adopt another favorite. It was simply not possible, hence my fascination with you became occasional as I enjoyed your songs and videos whenever the opportunity presented itself.
As I approached adolescence, I discovered myself breaking away from Berlin and developing a keen fondness for the classic rock of Cheap Trick. During that time, "Simply Irresistible" was receiving a considerable amount of airplay, and I loved it just as well as "Addicted To Love." Again, however, you were in the peripheral view of my radar screen, ever-present yet situated in a place I could be oblivious to until my best friend reawakened me to your charms and informed me that she had your latest release, "Heavy Nova." At my request, she copied it for me and brought it with her to school. When I arrived home that afternoon, I sat down on the brown-carpeted floor of our living room and placed the cassette in the stereo's tape deck. I recall taking a pen and writing your name and the title of the album in hot pink letters on the cassette sleeve. I was enveloped by this wonderfully magical emotion as each note and inflection filled the room. Captivated, I realized that I was experiencing the surprising delight of uncovering a gem.
Despite this, the scope of my musical horizons became increasingly narrow as I moved on to the heavily synthesized beats of British electro-pop. I specifically embraced the beautifully dark moodiness of Depeche Mode, a band who celebrated and reinforced my somber perspective during that turbulent period. Upon hindsight, I would have resisted listening to your music at that time, for to do so would have been to light a thousand and one glittering candles in a tenebrous chamber I was convinced would remain unaltered.
Four years later, seized by an emerging desire for all things uplifting, I waded through a box of unlabeled cassettes, playing each one until I found myself propelled backwards in time, a child sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, body positioned closely against the speakers. I had found my old copy of "Heavy Nova." The case that protected it had been lost somewhere along my journey. It was worn and the sound quality was terrible, yet it did not hinder me from falling in love all over again and associating your artistry to the dearest of memories, the mind's portraits of a life unfolded.
At that moment I was suddenly struck with the vague recollection of a song I had once loved. I could not recall the title or the lyrics, but I knew that if I saw it I would be able to recognize it. Shortly thereafter, I visited the record shop and studied every available Robert Palmer CD and cassette until I uncovered my heart‘s desire: "Mercy Mercy Me/I Want You." "Don't Explain" officially became my first Robert Palmer purchase.
I happily danced around my bedroom to "Mercy Mercy Me/I Want You" that day. Ironically, it was the only track I enjoyed off of the album. I disliked the rest and was sorely disappointed. You once again faded into the background of my pursuits and interests.
I smile as I entertain the far-fetched notion of you relentlessly pursuing me, prodding me to heed you, as if saying: "Listen to this. " I finally listened, beautiful man. Four years later, my recording of "Heavy Nova" inevitably beckoned to me once again, this time gripping me in a fashion so absolute that no possibility of escape existed. Since the cassette sleeve remained lost and my memory was failing me after 10 years, I had no idea of the album's title or the names of the tracks. Three songs in particular continually haunted me, their majestic loveliness resonating within my mind. Yet unknown, their lyrics wound themselves around me: " Hold me now, till the world turns away. Show me how, here in this dream we might always stay. We belong to each other." The second, "I feel so lucky loving her, tell me what else is magic for? She thinks it's better left unsaid. She makes her mind up at a glance, it really made a difference. I seem to be unconditionally hers." The last, "Guard your dreams at night. Lock your heart up tight. It could happen to you. Don't count stars or you may stumble. Someone drops a sigh, and down you tumble." So completely had they stirred me from within that I immediately embarked on a quest to find the release from which they hailed. I memorized a significant portion of the songs’ lyrics and surmised that I could distinguish any of their phrases if they appeared on an album cover.
That evening I returned to the same record shop in which I had purchased "Don't Explain." I did not discover exactly what I was searching for, yet I bought what I considered to be the next best thing: a compilation that included a track titled, "She Makes My Day," four words that were featured in one of the songs I had recently become obsessed with. I excitedly left the store with "Addictions Volume 2" in hand, ridiculously priced at $5.99.
I realized what a bargain I’d struck when the music flooded my vehicle. I could not believe what I was hearing. I asked myself, This is Robert Palmer? I fast-forwarded to "She Makes My Day." I cannot adequately delineate the joy I felt at that moment. I elatedly spoke aloud, "I can hear the bass! I can hear the bass!" It was absolutely gorgeous, something I had entirely missed when listening to the poor sound quality of my "Heavy Nova" recording.
I continued to listen in awe and at one point thought, I am listening to Robert Palmer. It was not a mere acknowledgment, it was a dawning. It was you. After all these years, I had finally noticed you.
From that moment forward, I cradled you against the pulse of my spirit. The following afternoon I bought "Heavy Nova" at a quaint little bookshop/music store that I would subsequently visit for that very reason: It was the place I had, in essence, come full circle in my story with you. I love its every corner because it reminds me of you and all of the deliciousness I have bound up in the poetry of your artistic expression. I recall the day I acquired that CD so vividly, even the way the sun bathed the streets in its searing, golden aura. So happy was I to have rediscovered you.
You have existed within the echoes of my laughter, enfolded me in the aftermath of shattered ideals, inhabited the upturned curves of my secret smiles, made ever-more poignant my appreciation of man's fragile yet powerful beauty, consoled me in my loneliness, introduced into my everyday a sense of wonder that enriched and beautified my perception. For this reason I deem you "friend."
Dear friend, how I miss the comforting knowledge of your existence somewhere upon this earth. Your abrupt departure has carved out a wound that has settled into the essence of my being. I cannot compose these lines without small rivulets of tears making trails upon my face. Thank you so very much for your many gifts to me.
I am reminded of one line that appears in your wonderful interpretation of Todd Rundgren’s song, "Can We Still Be Friends": Oh babe, can we still go on and on and on?
Robert, I wanted our journey together to continue interminably. Please tell me that even now we can go on and on and on.
