The Case for Peter Case

If you have been reading the recent entries I’ve posted here, you might have the impression that every record I own has some kind of personal or familial connection.

This is not true. Take the subject of this post. Peter Case was a member of two power pop bands, the Nerves and The Plimsouls, before he stepped out to release his eponymous solo album in 1986. I picked up this special CMJ promo radio edition of Peter Case, probably for just a few bucks, and more than likely just a few years after it was released.

No one in my family or among my friends group influenced me to buy Peter Case. Nobody among my loved ones knows I’ve owned this album for close to 30 years. I have no nostalgic family snapshots to attach to this record.

Additionally, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve listened to Peter Case. Until now, that is. I’ve played it several times since the Mystical Dice called the album out, and I am happy to report that I’m enjoying it. Produced by T-Bone Burnett with some help from Mitchell Froom, Peter Case falls squarely into the Americana slot of the what might now be called the “‘80s college rock” genre. Lots of acoustic guitars and whatnot, but with a bit of the ‘80s big drum sound and maybe some very unobtrusive synths (or maybe not, that’s how unobtrusive they are).

This is a cool little album, with no personal stories attached.

Having a special CMJ promo with an alternate cover is fun. My favorite part of the cover is “The PopMeter” (see photo below), which compares how Los Angeles Times music critics rated recent releases. Peter Case received the highest combined average rating (78 out of 100) of albums covered in the July 27, 1986 Pop Meter displayed on the cover. Meanwhile, Invisible Touch by Genesis received the lowest average (56 out of 100) among the critics.

This is especially fascinating to me because the critic who gave Case the lowest rating was somebody named John Waite (I’m assuming no relation to the “Missing You” singer, unless he was doing a guest stint on the PopMeter). Waite gave Case a 60, but gave Invisible Touch a perfect 100.

Waite’s perfect score prompted me to listen to a big chunk of Invisible Touch, and let me tell you, it’s no 100. It may have spawned a whole bunch of huge hit singles and Michelob commercials, but Invisible Touch is, in retrospect, not a great record. I say this as a listener who fully supported Genesis’ new wave and pop inclinations on their previous three albums.

To rephrase: tonight, tonight tonight, I might be listening to Peter Case again, but I’ll be leaving Invisible Touch back in 1986, where it belongs. And there is nothing John Waite can do about that.