From the age of twelve, this writer has been enamored by Paul Weller.
Oh, it never got to the point of hanging Jam posters on my walls, but if I saw that there was a new Jam, Style Council, or solo album in the bins, I grabbed it, rent money be damned.
Back then, he was still the well-dressed punk with the icy stare and songs that cut like daggers in the night. Two listens to All Mod Cons in its entirety and I was done with my Kiss phase.
Weller's unrelenting, singular vision propelled The Jam from the middle pack with the also-ran's to the Top of the Pops, where the band's string of thirteen Top 20 singles (four of which went to #1) seemed like it might go on forever if not for the pesky little fact that Weller broke up the band right at the height of their commercial success.
And thus began the portion of the artist relationship where each new release took Weller further and further away from the sound that had made him a household name, thus forcing fans to choose to fall by the wayside or follow Weller into the thick brush, so to speak.
Doing so has been a real trip, I must say, because this fan has been exposed to music I would not have otherwise explored. His explorations have , thus, fueled my explorations and, as a result, my record collection looks a whole lot more impressive than it would have had I not had Weller's impeccable curation skills at my disposal.
In that sense, I liken Weller to Sting, who broke up the Police at their apex of global fame in order to embark on a solo career that has continued to test the mettle of longtime Police fans (lute album, anyone?) Weller hasn't been THAT cruel to his fans, of course, but he never did find his way back to that sound.
Even now, when he performs Jam songs in concert, you can almost feel the disconnect between the man he is now and the relentless youth he was then, like hearing Paul McCartney sing "I Saw Her Standing There" these days.
Thankfully, there is much enjoyment to be found in his solo work, which can also be infuriatingly self-indulgent from time to time. His latest studio effort, True Meanings, falls into the latter category with songs that explore a myriad of styles, each more sleep-inducing than the next.
If I wanted to hear this kind of shit, I'd buy an Eric Clapton record.
Thankfully, Weller's next album will right the ship because, by the time the new one hit the shelves, its safe to say Weller was ready to move on.
The fun in being a Weller fan, though, is that you never what the next move's gonna be and anyone who can still do that after five decades in the game will get my money every time.