When you're young and you have a limited collection of music to listen to (a reality people will never know again - thanks, streaming), every record becomes absolutely vital. I can't begin to count how many times I listened to those first albums I got, and that does bring in questions of whether I loved them because I love them, or if I loved them because they were all I knew. In the end, it doesn't matter how things came to be, because knowing the past doesn't change it. Even if time machines existed, the past would remain the past, or else the very conditions that led to the time machine's existence would not have happened. I'm getting a bit too deep here, aren't I?
By the time I was expanding my horizons, there was one truth about music I had settled on; Tonic was my favorite band. It wasn't a linear development, but by the time they took a break after "Head On Straight", there was no other band who meant more to me. They are responsible for me being a musician, and for what the last twenty years have meant to that entire facet of my identity. I learned the ropes of writing songs from Emerson Hart, so when Tonic was put on the back-burner for a solo career, I was not heartbroken. Writers are often more important than the particular path they are taking, and if a schism was going to happen, it would be for other reasons.
This chapter was introduced with the single, "If You're Gonna Leave", which is the one song from his solo career Emerson says he could have been a Tonic song. He is right about it fitting with the band, but I would disagree with him about it being alone in that category. Even on just this record, there are several others that could have fit the same bill. Perhaps our perception is driven in part by his desire to separate himself from the band's identity at that time, and my desire to keep them tied together.
The other aspect to that differing view is that, at the time, I was not attuned to what we now would call a 'songwriter's album'. Those collections of songs that were meant to showcase the range and variety of an artists' tastes and abilities were an integral part of the 70s that Emerson was influenced by, but were not a part of the music scene I was privy to. Not knowing any better, I perhaps heard something different than what was intended. There are times when not being astute and knowledgeable has its advantages, and that may have been one of them.
When I got the album, those two most Tonic sounding songs were the ones that captured my attention. "If You're Gonna Leave" and "I Wish The Best For You" were the most familiar songs, and were obvious choices to be the songs used to bring listeners in. Emerson has always been a simple songwriter, but without the layers of guitars Tonic used to build soundscapes, it was made more apparent. Let's get one thing out of the way right now; when I say Emerson's songwriting is simple, that is in no way a criticism. Simple songs are actually the hardest to write, because they don't have superfluous elements to distract us if the core composition isn't strong enough. When you have a song that is little more than a strummed chord pattern and a melody, it has to be great on its own. Those are the songs that separate a great songwriter from one who uses the studio to make themselves sound like one.
Having heard Emerson playing those songs with just an acoustic guitar and his voice, there's no doubt how good they are. But those are the easy songs to explain, because they are essentially Tonic songs, if the band was being played on 70s AM radio. What was more interesting was hearing the songs like "Devastation Hands" and "Flying", which were fully immersed in a much older sound than I was used to. Emerson's voice anchored them to what I already knew, and the elements of classic rock that dominated "Lemon Parade" had already served as a harbinger of where things could end up. Without knowing it, the move on this record had always been hinted at.
"I Know" is one of the most interesting songs, mixing the record's most guitar-focused sound with a composition rooted in power-pop. It was a new wrinkle, but it felt familiar at the same time. So too did the skittering rhythm of "Friend To A Stranger" and the programmed percussion of the title track, which closed the record with the biggest diversions from the artist we knew. Their placement at the end of the record stood out as perhaps an arrow pointing to what the future would be, but that turned out not to be the case. They were curious songs, experiments that could not have been attempted if group consensus was required.
Despite being simple, "Cigarettes & Gasoline" is a daring album, because it left behind the pretenses of a rock band for something far intimate and personal. This is the first time we really felt like we knew who Emerson was as a person. Both the lyrics about his family, and the variety of sounds he used to tell them, revealed more than he could with Bob Rock cranking the amps as he did on "Head On Straight".
My lasting memories of the record are three-fold. First, there are those songs that have played in my mind countless times over the last fifteen years, sounding as much a part of me as a part of Emerson. Second, my horizons were opened up by the nature of the record, and what it told me was out there I had not yet experienced. Third, no matter how many times I have listened to "Vanity" over the years, I still hear a blank instant where I swear the keyboard is making a mistake and trying to correct itself before the take gets cut off by the producer. It's the sort of little moment you would think would ruin the song, but instead it makes it impossible to forget.
A few years later Tonic would reconvene, and they would put out another album I love just as much. But if you ask me which album is more special, and which album means more to me, it would be "Cigarettes & Gasoline". By wading into new waters, it stands apart as something unique, and it's things that are unique we learn the most from. Fifteen years later, I'm still figuring that out.
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