Album Review

My first experience with listening to Cat Stevens was not listening to Cat Stevens at all, but listening to my father sing “Moonshadow” as a lullaby. This is my earliest memory, in fact, and to this day when I hear the song on the radio or pull it up on a playlist, I can instantly recall my childhood bedroom — my alphabet/animals comforter, my velor security blanket, the way the trees rustled outside my window and the feeling of being three — maybe even younger — and exhausted and quiet and loved. And while it was a lovely melody and my dad sounded more or less exactly like Cat Stevens*, it was not all peace and sweet dreams. Like most good lullabies or bedtime stories, “Moonshadow” presented a bit of an emotional quandary to my young and impressionable mind. See, as I drifted off to the Land of Nod, nagging concerns haunted me, in the form of the song’s curious lyrics: “If I ever lose my hands/ Lose my power, lose my land/I won’t have to work no more”; “If I ever lose my eyes/If my colors all run dry/I won’t have to cry no more”; and on to “If I ever lose my mouth/All my teeth, north and south/I won’t have to talk…”

I wondered: Should I be worried about losing my eyes and mouth and teeth and legs? Was this song about dismemberment or what? And who was this Moonshadow following me? He was creeping me out. Before I knew it, it was time for lights-out and I was left blinking in terror – the trees outside my window growing grabby little shadow-hands on the walls, stretching to peck out my eyes; every noise in my creaky house someone coming to knock out my teeth, teeth which I’d barely gotten the chance to use at all! It never was long before I leapt and hopped straight into a sleeping bag at the foot of my parents’ bed. Yikes, Cat Stevens. Way to complicate my world. Thanks, Dad. Good selection.

Now that was some time ago, naturally, and I don’t rely on a nightlight anymore. But even at a twenty three-year remove, I have to say there’s still something sort of spooky there. At the very least, the song is exceptionally surreal in its imagery and bizarre in its message. Disturbing, really. Like, if all these terrible eventualities did happen to you, Cat Stevens, would you honestly be so optimistic? Ain’t nothing so wrong with talking and crying and walking and working. This is a song about looking on the bright side of what exactly? The moon? I am not an earth-child, nor was I born in the Age of Aquarius. I think too hard and too literally about the things that define me. “Moonshadow” is one of the relics of my past that yielded far more questions than it ever did answers. So I just let it be. I stopped thinking about it. Until I sat down to write this review.

Time’s passed and I’ve changed — but not so much as Cat. Most obviously and publicly, he’s changed his name to Yusuf and his political views to incendiary. He’s given up his strumming and singing for nearly three decades only to pick them up again in the last couple years under this new moniker. He’s released two albums – 2006’s An Other Cup, and his latest, the album in question: roadsinger.

Excited though I was to reunite with an old friend of sorts, my original trepidations came back quickly. I worried: He tells me how to think about things, that Cat. Like, for example, if I want to sing out, I should sing out. And now he’s some sort of zealot, and what if I’m brainwashed? I sat down to my computer in a well-lit room and clicked “play” on the first track, “Welcome Home ” with a sigh and a heel-dug-in feeling. Was it a home I wanted to be welcomed back to?

The answer is, like always, complicated. My gamut of emotions while listening to the self-deprecatingly lowercase-titled album, ranged from joy to fury. These are strong emotions for me! Particularly because, you know, this is Yusuf/Cat Stevens, of mild-mannered seventies troubadour fame and cartoon-clad album covers.

I will start with my fury, because it’s more interesting. I hate child choruses. Except in “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” they are silly. Maybe The Kinks’ “Father Christmas” gets away with it a little bit. But when they’re used to elevate big ideas like Innocence, they make me want to gag. Halfway through the album, Yusuf gives us “Be What You Must,” which crescendos far beyond any crescendo has ever gone, even by “Peace Train” standards. The song feels like it’s supposed to be the album’s barnstormer, its highlight. But it sounds ludicrous. The message: well, look at the title. Pretty straightforward. Listen to the children. (Trust me, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried.)

Luckily, this is the only time the child chorus happens on roadsinger. Unfortunately, it’s nearly impossible to ignore its presence smack in the middle of eleven fairly brief tracks. I appreciated two things about it though: the aforementioned straightforwardness of it’s content (as compared to past hits), and the opening toy piano strains of early Cat Stevens’ favorite “Catch Bull At Four.” It was nostalgic at the start, upsetting at the end. This was familiar territory for me and the artist.

On either side of this, though, are some beautiful moments. Yusuf has maintained a familiarity that will please his loyal fans; it’s clear that his voice and musical talent have not suffered during his lengthy hiatus. The sweet and comfortable acoustic ballad, “Thinkin’ About You” feels as worn in as any Tea for the Tillerman track. There is an intimacy to roadsinger that blends with a brave eye for more contemporary flair, particularly on tracks like “Glass World,” which combines acoustic and electronic elements, and “Every Time I Dream,” which uses horns and a bluesy pace to emphasize Yusuf’s more mature and biting voice. It’s exciting, but these efforts are a little on the short side. They are teasers. At worst, they make you feel like he gave up to soon. At best, they leave you wanting more. I’ve chosen to fall in line with the latter where my view of roadsinger is concerned. In a career as rife with passion and change and searching as Yusuf’s, what more can we ask from him as fans?

So where does the artist want to travel? roadsinger seemed at first listen to be theatrical, and to have been created for larger narrative purposes. Message, with a capital “M”, might be straightforward throughout, but it seems there is an element missing more than even before, that of the stories which inspired the messages, the reality behind the metaphor. I have since discovered that several of the album’s songs will be featured in a West End musical of Yusuf/ Steven’s catalog set to premiere this summer. This musical, entitled Moonshadow, is about a boy from a planet of darkness who learns lessons of innocence by traveling to a world of goodness and light with his own personified Moonshadow. Despite my hemming and hawing about Yusuf/Steven’s surrealism, this sounds amazing. Maybe insane. Definitely worth experiencing. Yusuf himself has admitted a longstanding and surprising appreciation for the great theater composers of the twentieth century, from Bernstein to Rodgers and Hammerstein. It seems he’s come back on the scene with an eye to push himself to a place where, frankly, few ever expected him to go. And what does he have to lose? His credibility? Then he won’t have to sing no more. And he’s been there; he’s done that.

*My dad is going to read this.

Editor’s Note: JamsBio is partnering with Universal Music Enterprises to celebrate the release of roadsinger, a set of brand new songs from one of rock’s most beloved troubadors – Cat Stevens. Enter to win autographed memorabilia and Cat Stevens’ complete CD catalog by (1) playing the Cat Stevens edition “Scrumbler” puzzle game, (2) and sharing memories tied to Cat Stevens’ amazing music. Join the fun!

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