Thrash, Pop, Flirt, Snarl

Once upon a time in the 70’s, a singer and a guitarist decided to collaborate.  The singer was successful but dissatisfied.  The guitarist was acclaimed, but sought greater exposure.  They agreed to perform on each other's next album.

The guitarist composed a series of love songs with his romantic partner -- songs of greater emotional depth than his past work.  The singer created vocal melodies for the guitarist's songs.  Many of the singer's performances were recorded without rehearsal, as the guitarist had developed a working method that valued spontaneity over polish and technique. 

The singer quickly composed his own album, which the guitarist played on and produced.  The singer credited the guitarist as an inspiration for his adventurous new songs.  The guitarist called the singer one of the best he had ever heard. 

But the singer’s record label blocked the release of the singer’s album, and withheld most of the singer’s vocals from the guitarist’s album.  The guitarist was forced to find other singers to complete his album. 

For many years, the guitarist maintained that if the singer's album had been released in 1977 (when it was completed), it would have been as influential as Bowie's Heroes or Peter Gabriel's debut (both of which featured the guitarist).  When the singer's album finally came out in 1980, it seemed more of a stylistic detour than a bold leap forward.

The singer is still proud of his album, and last year he included three of its songs in a career retrospective.  The singer’s performances of the guitarist's songs were also released last year -- more than four decades after they were recorded. The major labels must think fondly of those old days, when they alone decided what was suitable for listeners to hear.