Tell A Vision- Standing Under the Marquee Moon

1977 was a momentous year in music by any estimation, and this is thanks in no small part to one of the greatest debut albums and one of the most essential documents of a band ever. Television's seminal "Marquee Moon" is not just a classic of punk or art rock, but indeed all rock music, and even a fan of stale and mainstream classic rock should enjoy it as much as the eggheaded art-punkers who to this day slaver over Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd's unmatched guitar virtuosity. Its appeal is so immediate, its power and technical achievement so palpable and undeniable that only the most staid and cynical of human beings can deny its brilliance. If you hate Television, I hope you hate all music. You could be forgiven for not liking music in general, but Television? No. That would be blasphemy toward our God of Guitar Noodling, Tom Verlaine.

The first time I heard Television, I was in high school. I had been to the local hipster record store (in St. Louis, the only record store of note is the awesome Vintage Vinyl), and had purchased Television's debut album Marquee Moon after a heavy round of internet buzz lauding it as one of the best 70s albums. My initial reaction was of great surprise; the music was much more traditional than I expected, at least in its basic setup. Two guitars, bass, drums, and tasty riffz. But "See No Evil", the opener, got a lot more interesting in the pre-chorus. Billy Ficca turned out this inspired, complex cymbal rush the likes of which I'd not heard anywhere before; Tom and Richard traded cosmic, glinting notes and crunching chords; Fred Smith held it all together with an upbeat and energetic bassline. The chorus itself perfectly encapsulated the song with moral relativism laid out with a start-stop vocal and a dragged out screech from Tom Verlaine's dry, reedy voice- I see, I see no... eviiiiiiiiiiiillllll! Richard Lloyd laid down an absolutely jaw-dropping solo after the second chorus, a non-stop flow of incredible playing that read like prose and sounded like poetry. Tom always said that Richard played solos that sounded like stories or scripts, and it's easy to understand what he meant. From that moment of brilliance, I knew I was hooked, and would never go back. Since then, Television has become one of the most reliable listens in my library. If I ever need a lift, ever need a just sublime moment, I turn on the TV with Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd.

Structurally, there are some touchstones of normal music, some hints of familiarity. It's from this basic framework of classicist rock music that Television's songs spiral into their trademark heady, cerebral jams. Their flow is unmistakable. No other band would be able to pull off a song like Marquee Moon. It takes the tension between traditional rock music and punk and art rock and extracts brilliance from a tightwire rope walk between the familiar and the utterly alien sounds that can emanate from a cleanly picked, undistorted guitar. Spontaneous jams and scripted solos blend seamlessly. Take a listen for yourself to their amazing "Venus" and hear for yourself.



What's amazing is that no part is uninteresting, or merely filler. Everything is in its right place, and even if one guitar is playing just chords, no note progressions, the harmonic relationships are still as interesting as the drum line, as the bass. Though Tom Verlaine dominated Television musically in a lot of ways, it's heartening to know that the band was egalitarian in emphasis on musicality and structure. No instrument really overpowers the mix, and there are few holding patterns, just killer parts, the interlocking teeth of gears that inexorably turn to power the fantastic machine that is Television.

After one more album, 1978's Adventure, Television split. Solo projects followed, of course. Bassist Fred Smith and drummer Billy Ficca worked amicably on and off with Richard and Tom, but the two guitarists would not reconcile until a reunion in 1992. An eponymous album followed, but for the most part was not as brilliant as the debut, though it may be on the level of Adventure. The best track on 1992's Television is, undoubtedly, the epic "Call Mr. Lee". It's got a killer hook, dark and impenetrable lyrics, and a dramatic, powerful solo.