Greetings Glancers! It’s time once again for me to open the archives and blast my ear-openings with the music of my youngling days, specifically, those albums I missed by artists I liked. Today’s choice cut comes to you once again from Canadian Denim wearer, Bryan Adams – known to his his friends as ‘Bryan’. Mr Denim’s 2nd album You Want It You Got It has more songs that I am familiar with when compared with his average first album, and according to various sources is the first album where he began to wear that true authentic Denim sound. You Want It? You Got It..
Lonely Nights: A twangy, tinny, upbeat riff opens one of my favourite Adams songs. The trademark gruff vocals are here, the simple verse chorus verse construct, and good old-fashioned driving melodies and belting chorus. It holds up well today, sure it’s cheesy, sure there is nothing groundbreaking, but it doesn’t suffer much from age or from being from unique period of the 20th Century when rock stars forgot how to make good music, known as the 80s.
One Good Reason: A slow, thudding drumming accompanied by organ doesn’t get this off to the greatest start. Adams appears to be talking his way through the verses. Backing la la las. The bridge feels a little awkward, and the chorus comes out of nowhere and doesn’t really feel like a chorus. It’s nice enough, sounds a bit shitkicker, but it’s instantly forgettable. I’m bored before the 3 minute mark, but it’s still going. Is there a dreaded organ solo coming? It sounds like they just kept playing, lost in the sound while Adams appears to be having multiple orgasms. Good.
Don’t Look Now: More drums, more organs, it’s turning very 80s. Better verse melodies, sudden chorus again. Sounds like a precursor to many later songs. Lots of shouting. I’m not certain what the message of ‘Baby, don’t look now – I’m coming around’ is meant to be, but it sounds a little rapey. At least this one doesn’t outstay its welcome. Too much.
Coming Home: Uh oh. Piano, soothing oohs, and synth. This doesn’t bode well. Springsteen. Gentle, not a lot of variance between the verse or chorus, and once again the chorus is really just the singing of the title twice before returning to the verse. Middle bit, guitar solo coming next I assume. Nope, a weird bass sound then return to ooohs. More singing. At least the sound is a little more expansive than the first album, but this is all very simple, and in truth the emotion isn’t coming over well.
Fits Ya Good: Now we’re into hair territory with a shouted, counted intro and thumps and guitars. I accidentally read the title as ‘Fist Ya Good’ then wept. Now I’m laughing and I’ve missed the first part of song. I won’t be rewinding. Second verse coming up. Words, presumably about fashion, but Adams sounds drunk. Sing the title for the chorus, four times, guitar solo. Some mumbling and howling, then more chorus and more howling. Ending collapse.
Jealousy: Weird galloping piano, interesting rhythm. Put the raisins back in my head? Ah, now a few more words are added to the chorus to explain the effects of jealousy on the male brain. I’m a little metal fool? Melodies are fine, the chorus may get some likes, but again there’s little here that people withe memories will remember.
Tonight: Dump-puh dump-puh dump-puh dubudu-dump. Etc. Ok, I like the chord choice. I don’t like the vocals. Come on chorus, give me something good. Nice try, but not what I would have gone with. An ok song, but a strong shell let down by weak insides – could have been better. A bizarre middle with only drums, then twinkles, then Adams shouting then buzzing then Robert Harvey impressions then guitar. Yes, could have been a good’un.
You Want It, You Got It: Faster. Skippy boppy bippy floppy bippy boppy boo. Shouting the chorus at me. I’m not sure what it is I’m supposed to want, but apparently I got it. An all round weird song with fast verse, slow chorus and unknown words being thrown about and a strange twiddly guitar solo. People are shouting in the background towards the end, but out of time and I’m not sure what the purpose is – why are all these people shouting, what did I do? What did I do!? Adams chokes to death in the final seconds.
Last Chance: Only to resurrect for a final hurrah. It’s someone’s last chance to gain some Denim crotch fun so my advice is to turn tail and beat foot outta there – it’s your last chance! Nothing to mention about the verses, the chorus isn’t much better, but there is a sax solo accompanied by more howling and shouting. Ooh, a little temp and tone change. But it comes to nothing.
No One Makes It Right: A closing ballad. Softer vocals. No-one holds a knife like you do? If I’m hearing all the lyrics correctly, and I’m almost certainly not, then this is an extremely violent album featuring deviant sexual acts beyond the realms of normality or even Canada. Anyway, musically this is fine, very cheesy, slow dance stuff, the melodies are almost memorable but just miss out on hitting that sweet-spot.
A much more gruff Adams appears to be having a lot more fun with this album, maybe because they were live studio recordings, maybe he had more freedom, I don’t know. The songwriting shows moments of improvement, but it’s still overly simple and there are few stand out moments. Don’t worry folks, as you’ll have no doubt seen, I’ll be tackling some of the, reportedly, best albums of all time soon on Nightman Listens, so my comments may begin to make more sense, more or less, and not be so negative, unless of course I strongly disagree with the choices given in Colin Larkin’s Top 1000 albums, which I almost certainly will.
The Spac Hole 
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