Cat Stevens - Teaser And The Firecat

Released - October 1971

Genre - Folk

Producer - Paul Samwell-Smith

Selected Personnel - Cat Stevens (Vocals/Guitar/Keyboards); Alun Davies (Guitar); Larry Steele (Bass/Congas); Gerry Conway (Drums); Harvey Burns (Drums); Rick Wakeman (Piano); Del Newman (String Arrangements)

Standout Track - How Can I Tell You?

After 1970's Tea For The Tillerman, Cat Stevens could do no wrong. At one stage, his shifting of focus onto the territory of the singer-songwriter and the folk musician rather than the novelty pop singer looked like a risk, but now, with two successful folk albums behind him, he no longer had a point to prove. He had firmly acquitted himself as perhaps the foremost folk musician in the UK at the time. The big commercial payoff of the artistic gamble is a position countless artists have found themselves in over the years, and it's a position that frequently engenders either laziness or iconoclasm. David Bowie is a good example - after achieving suerstardom in the early 70s with his work as alter-ego Ziggy Stardust, his response to the acclaim was to kill his alter-ego and gradually indulge in funk and disco and morph into a purveyor of "plastic soul," totally reinventing himself and running the risk of alienating his hard-won audience all over again. Later still, after the global success of his Let's Dance album in 1983, he went the other way and resorted to lazily trying to cater to his audience, resulting in the musical abortion that is Tonight, one of the most tepid and lacklustre albums of all time. In the early 70s, Cat Stevens was at his commercial peak and bears the distinction of being one of few artists to become neither lazy nor iconoclastic in response to their success. His work post-Tea For The Tillerman showed no signs of artistic reinvention or a rethinking of approach (1973's Foreigner would be a rather bold change of gear, but that was about it in terms of reinvention). On the contrary, his subsequent work continued to mine the same vein of sincere, expertly crafted and heartfelt folk music, often drawing from the same themes of spiritual yearning or childhood innocence. But nor did he become lazy in retreading the same ground - while Teaser And The Firecat never surprises a listener already familiar with Stevens's work, it also never bores him and finds way to continue delivering songs that are new and compelling and fresh and as emotional and uplifting as ever.

A significant factor in Stevens's continuing retreading of the same basic templates and forms is probably the comfort he felt working with a familiar group of people. Teaser And The Firecat sees him bouncing off more or less the same group of collaborators as on the last two albums, notably guitarist Alun Davies, who continues to lend a crucial energy and dynamism to the arrangements, along with producer Paul Samwell-Smith and drummer Harvey Burns. A significant addition, if only for one song, is Rick Wakeman, soon to be the keyboardist for Yes, who provides the urgent, bubbling piano runs on the children's schoolyard hymn of "Morning Has Broken." Things kick off with the simple "The Wind," a lovely brief intro composed of Stevens's mellow tones and simple guitar-picking before segueing into "Ruby Love," a brilliantly energetic song that's enlivened by the Mediterranean-style guitar playing by either Stevens or Davies, with Hispanic frills and decorations, making it one of a long line of Stevens's Spanish-inflected pop songs, along with the likes of the following year's "O Caritas." "If I Laugh" is a beautifully melancholy folk ballad in the vein of "Where Do The Children Play," but this time far more achingly personal and regretful than that earlier, more socio-political work. It's about the pain and the heartache of trying to get over a loved one that was never meant to be, and would take the award for the most heart-rending song on the album were it not for the presence of "How Can I Tell You?", easily one of the most sincerely felt and tragically emotional songs in Stevens's discography - the lyrics are simple almost to the point of naivety, but it's so heartfelt and so honest, and the melody so beautiful, that it quickly wormed its way into my affections to become one of my favourite songs, and a song I went back to again and again throughout uni after every doomed romance or unrequited longing.

The second half of the album is populated more by uptempo pop songs than melancholy ballads, with the frenetic guitar strumming of "Bitterblue", complete with Stevens's empassioned cries, being a highlight, along with the simple beauty of "Moonshadow," another song that mines Stevens's keen ear for simple, childlike sing-along melodies that manage to be utterly catchy and memorable without ever seeming trite or contrived (despite his own tales of having written the song while dancing across the rocks on a beach in the moonlight coming across as ever so slightly affected). The closing number is the rousing "Peace Train," a gospel-tinged rabble-rousing cry for peace and understanding that utilises a full choir of backing singers to full effect in order to finish the album on a heartwarming high-point. Ultimately, it's probably "Peace Train" that sums up the ebullient of this album the best - it's perhaps lyrically naive, but it's so committed and so expertly arranged that it conveys its message with no trace of cynicism or doubt. The message of this album is ultimately far more hopeful than the fears and doubts of Tea For The Tillerman, and it's impossible to listen to without it putting a smile on your face. For the ability to make an album so feelgood and uplifting means I'll overlook no end of retreading old ground. It may not be innovative, but it's one of his finest moments.

Track Listing:

All songs written by Cat Stevens except where noted.

1. The Wind

2. Ruby Love

3. If I Laugh

4. Changes IV

5. How Can I Tell You?

6. Tuesday's Dead

7. Morning Has Broken (Traditional, arranged by Cat Stevens; words by Eleanor Farjeon)

8. Bitterblue

9. Moonshadow

10. Peace Train