in CAT, Music

Supertramp – Breakfast in America (1979)

It’s been a rough year for rock star deaths. Just this summer we’ve lost Brian Wilson, Sly Stone, Ozzy Osbourne, Mick Ralphs, Bobby Whitlock, and George Kooymans, to name a few. One name that almost slipped by me was the passing of Supertramp founder Rick Davies, who died on September 6th from multiple myeloma at the age of 81.

I’ll admit, when I first got into Supertramp in high school, it was Roger Hodgson’s songs that spoke to me: “The Logical Song,” “Dreamer,” “Take the Long Way Home,” “Give a Little Bit” (remember when it was used in those lame GAP ads back in 2001?). Hodgson had that high-pitched, melodic sparkle to everything he sang. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but instantly recognizable.

Rick Davies, on the other hand, was a grittier songwriter and vocalist. He was bluesier, heartier, edgier. Not that anyone was truly edgy in Supertramp. But I’ve learned to appreciate him as the darker tonal counterpart to Hodgson, and he had his share of radio staples as well: “Bloody Well Right,” “My Kind of Lady,” and, of course, “Goodbye Stranger,” famously parodied by Michael Scott on The Office as the mean-spirited “Goodbye Toby.”

Supertramp was an odd duck of a band. Between Hodgson and Davies they had two lead singers, two head songwriters, and dueling bandleaders who each played keyboards. The band didn’t have a regular guitarist (Hodgson would switch over when needed), and the third most notable member was a geek who played saxophone.

They started as a prog band and evolved into straight-up pop rock by the late ’70s. They sold over 60 million albums worldwide, had five Top 40 singles, and today’s album in question was a No. 1 hit on the Billboard charts for six weeks.

Yet I never hear Supertramp in the conversation as one of the great bands of the 1970s. It’s as if they weren’t taken seriously because they weren’t “real” prog like Yes, Genesis, or King Crimson. Not to mention they peaked right as punk and other forms of underground rock and roll were captivating young audiences. Hard to look cool when you’re a bloated arena rock band singing about being logical.

But I sat down and listened to the band’s biggest album for the first time in a while, and you know what? It still slaps. That thing has bangers up the wazoo. It’s satirical and funny and full of experimental sounds and ideas. It’s the band’s definitive work and should be appreciated for its deft blending of prog and pop into one tidy little package. It’s also about one of my favorite meals of the day in the place where I live! I wish I were as excited about the latter.

Supertramp was at the top of their game by the time they recorded their sixth album. The band had developed a cult following after their critically acclaimed release Crime of the Century (1974) and not long after secured their first major hit with “Give a Little Bit” off their 1977 album Even in the Quietest Moments…. Tuneful songsmiths and meticulous in the studio, Breakfast in America was no different.

As usual, Hodgson and Davies split the songwriting and singing duties 50/50, each delivering some of the best songs of their career. I’ve yet to mention the album’s epic jazz-pop opener “Gone Hollywood” by Davies, and Hodgson’s quirky ear-worm “Breakfast in America” (you might remember it being sampled in Gym Class Heroes’ 2004 hit single “Cupid’s Chokehold”). This is one of those albums where every song could have been a single.

The album skewers American culture, though Hodgson and Davies have downplayed that interpretation over the years. But if I were them, I’d lean into it. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but America isn’t quite as en vogue as it used to be.

Not every great album has to be a grand statement. Sometimes it can just be cheeky and fun and about love and success like we all face in our everyday lives. For a band that pounds your eardrums with an onslaught of swirling Wurlitzers and whimsical vocals, I find Supertramp just as intimate and intelligent as any of the talented songwriters of their time. I mean, hey man, they taught us how to be logical.

Goodbye, Rick. It’s been nice.

Favorite Tracks: “Gone Hollywood,” “Goodbye Stranger,” “The Logical Song”