Ray Thomas “Hopes, Wishes & Dreams”

The magic pointer fell on this 1976 enigma—but wait! There’s an equally as enigmatic 1975 LP with a similar style cover that I bought alongside this one. But I’ll pretend I know nothing about either, and document my impressions of this one, then go back and examine its odd companion and see what I can figure out! At any rate, if you’re apt to listen to the beginning of the first song on a record and reject it based on that initial impression, you might’ve missed out here, because it does not start out splendid. Somebody else’s teatime, to put it mildly. (It’s from whence the off-putting title of this LP comes from.) But you might not have gotten even that far—if you simply looked at the album cover—a sappy, seaside illustration that kind of looks like a drunken Kinkade (and that’s saying something). But then, by the second song, there’s something interesting about it—it’s subtly intriguing. And then by the third song, “We Need Love,” you know something is going on. It’s either an all-out display of unbridled romantic sincerity or a brilliant parody of such. The over-the-top string arrangements helps with that impression. Then a boring song. But the last one, “One Night Stand,” is quite catchy. Or catching, what have you. But what does Side Two have in store for us? Could go either way! A boring rocker starts us off. But then… a beautiful ballad, “Didn’t I”—it’s my favorite on the album—great song. Including a fine, what-sounds-like trumpet solo, but I don’t see trumpet credited—I could enter the rabbit-hole, or… just… let… it… go…

After that, well… kind of dull. If you have a song called “Carousel” and make the organ sound like a calliope… what can I say. Time to focus on the visual artistry! As bad as the album cover is—despite opening up to a panorama—the inside presents a life-size portrait of Ray Thomas that’s so striking, it’s almost equally disturbing and beautiful. He’s a good-looking guy, certainly—hairy—of the time. But this photo, so big and intense—it might literally hypnotize someone. It should come with a warning. And then, there’s a lyrics insert, with credits, and six Polaroid-size musician photos that are pretty amusing. (Among the names: Nicky James, John Jones, Terry James, Trevor Jones. Are they fucking with us? Or just British?) Also funny—there are six guys, five of them with (musical) instruments, and one with a (tobacco) pipe! I mean, he’s he arranger, Terry James, so it kind of makes sense—direct from The Shire. The album purports to be a collaboration with Nicky James, so I’m sure it is, but he only gets one of the soft-focus three-inch squares while Ray gets that monument-size portrait. Could it be about Nicky’s choice of shirts? (See: other review’s notes on the insert of Of Mighty Oaks.) And… on the other side of this insert, it’s the waist up shot of Thomas from the same session—this one smiling, which highlights his God-given choppers—and showcasing a mind-bending shirt. I want that shirt.

2.20.26