Dave's Side One

These artists proved you didn’t need a full band if you had vision, talent, and enough tracks on a tape machine. Their work was intimate yet ambitious, often sounding bigger and more personal than albums made by full groups.

The 1970s were the golden age of keyboards in rock music. From swirling Mellotrons to massive Hammond organs and pioneering synthesizers, the keyboard became a lead instrument capable of everything from symphonic grandeur to futuristic textures

These basslines weren’t just holding down the low end — they were driving the songs, creating hooks, and giving the music its backbone and personality. A truly great 70s bassline could make you move even when the rest of the song was subtle

The production is warm and inviting. The groove never rushes. Everything about the track feels effortless, like a perfect summer evening drive with the windows down. It’s soft rock at its absolute peak — melodic, romantic, and beautifully relaxed

My take: I love a well-placed ballad, but the 70s went overboard. Not every album needed a “we’re sensitive too” moment. Sometimes I just wanted the band to keep rocking instead of reaching for the lighter and the strings

The beauty of the vinyl era was that Side A and Side B felt like two chapters of the same story. Flipping that record was part of the experience. You had time to digest the first side before the second one hit you with something new or took the album in a different direction

Changing lead singers is one of the riskiest moves a band can make. It’s like replacing the main character in the middle of a long-running TV show. The voice, the personality, the chemistry — everything changes. Yet some bands not only survived the switch, they actually thrived

The truth is, these bands were misunderstood because they dared to be both popular and good. They bridged the gap between artistic ambition and mass appeal, and that made certain critics very uncomfortable

What’s remarkable is how much ground they covered in one decade. They evolved from a scrappy, blues-based bar band into one of the biggest rock acts in the world while keeping their core identity intact — even when things got messy behind the scenes. That balance of raw attitude and commercial songcraft is what made their 70s run so special

Artists who delivered incredible music right out of the gate but never quite sustained that momentum or got the long-term recognition they deserved

That opening guitar line is pure sunshine. Dewey Bunnell’s relaxed vocals and the breezy harmonies paint a perfect California daydream — palm trees swaying, ocean breeze in your hair, and the promise of endless adventure just over the next hill.

Some double albums absolutely feel like self-indulgent marathons. You get halfway through the second record and think, “Okay, we could have cut two sides and still had a masterpiece

Those first songs that didn’t waste a single second and immediately told you the album was going to be special

Some of the most important moments in rock happened because someone walked into a store and discovered something special

For me, these albums were designed with the turntable in mind. It’s all about the ritual. Bands would even tailor the sequencing on their albums to enhance that experience

For many of us who grew up in the 70s, vinyl isn’t just a format — it’s part of the ritual. The crackle when the needle drops, the warmth and hiss of analog tape, the way the music feels alive and three-dimensional

Today we’re celebrating criminally underrated debut albums of the 1970s — records that announced major talent right out of the gate but somehow never got the full respect they deserved

These songs proved the bands weren’t just about volume and spectacle. They could slow down and touch the heart. For many of us, these ballads were the ones we played when we needed comfort or wanted to say something important to someone special

These bands worked hard, wrote great songs, and gave fans what they wanted — big melodies, emotional choruses, and exciting live shows. The jealousy came from seeing “commercial” success labeled as a sin. In reality, these bands kept rock alive for the mainstream in a way that mattered

The sound of so-called “corporate rock” was actually spectacular. Foreigner perfected the big, anthemic rock song with killer hooks and strong guitar work. Boston created that massive, layered guitar sound that felt like a wall of melody. Toto brought incredible musicianship, smooth grooves, and sophisticated pop-rock

These records had ambition, strong songwriting, and emotional honesty. They weren’t shallow — they were accessible on purpose, and that made them powerful

Critics often rolled their eyes at Styx’s theatrical concept albums and REO’s big power ballads, calling them formulaic and overproduced. Fans, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough

To the critics, the Corporate Rock label meant music that was too polished, too accessible, and too successful. It meant bands that worked with top producers, spent serious money in the studio, and aimed for radio play and arena tours instead of staying in small clubs

“Corporate Rock.” Critics loved to slap that tag on any band that had polished production, big choruses, and actual radio success.

Let’s remember Karen not just for her struggles, but for the incredible gift she gave us — a voice that still comforts millions decades later. Her music remains a gentle reminder to be kind to ourselves and to others