Abandoned Luncheonette

There’s absolutely no reason this album should be such a good listen front to back. Wholeheartedly mean it. Two guys that were/are pop hit churning machine making an album that’s equally both deeply engaging and shallow enough the be considered easy listening is a achievement both of them should put on their CVs.

The atmosphere and picture painting this album possesses is a benchmark which albums after copied to a T, but most never managed to get to the that level. Probably because this duo didn’t stay in one spot and one mood throughout. “When the Morning Comes” and “Had I Known You Better” is a representation of waking up in a crammed apartment, a sarcophagus filled with a damp air of emotion, with no way of leaving. Unlike the lover.

The suite of the next three tracks is a lamentation of a person deeply in disconnect with his emotions, while the day slowly goes on. “Las Vegas Turnaround” picks it up, with a light jazz tempo and aura in it signaling the waking of the city, people walking to their jobs, and cars speeding through the streets of the big city, but also feeling the emptiness of losing a lover, whose feelings are more analyzed in the next one “She’s Gone” where the guy clearly cannot come to terms with the fact that… she’s gone. And that he can’t do anything about it. “I’m Just a Kid” gives us a glimpse as to why the things preceding this album had to happen. The singer clearly has some of his own unresolved personal issues that his woman, who’s clearly done having to carry her own and his burdens, couldn’t stand anymore.

“Abandoned Luncheonette” is the midday, lunch break crisis. On the surface, the song is a simple ditty, but underneath everything, the cracks of filthy cynicism of the singer begin to show, which perfectly gives an insight into the singers overall personal instability. A perfectly hidden one behind the cheerful nature of the instrumental.

That segues us into the second, and final three-part suite is a flip of the switch. The narrator is done hiding behind the façade of cheer. All hell is bound to break lose, as per the lyrics and tense nature of “Lady Rain”. But just before the pot begins to boil over, a ray of hope shines on our poor "Laughing Boy" in the form of an unnamed second person. A friend who tries to cautiously steer him from the unthinkable. Obviously, the friend pulled a string, for in the culmination, “Everytime I Look at You”, our guy is clearly done with her. For good now. But just before it’s all over, from the halfway mark, we’re treated to a progressive section. A pour out of emotion, which ends with an ambiguous goodbye. Has he truly moved on from her? Have his emotions got the best out of him? Who knows.

And that’s the beauty of the album, really a full on onslaught and a rollercoaster of emotion and storytelling. Obvious recommendations.