#49 - Cat Stevens' "Tea for the Tillerman" (1970)


In one sense, Cat Stevens has always been a man between worlds.  He was born Swedish and Greek.  Raised in England.  Wrote popular songs for money and then introspective, self-consciously "folk" songs for even more money.  Abandoned his fame, converted to Islam, and then retired from music, resurfacing every so often to generate controversy and sue those he alleged were copying his songs.  Absent the other details, the "celebrity-turned-recluse" story is only slightly less common than the against-all-odds rise from obscurity to popularity.  Tea for the Tillerman marks Stevens' breakthrough as a recording artist.  It (along with its 1971 follow-up, Teaser and the Firecat), contains his best-loved songs from his period of greatest creative fecundity.  So...why is it so annoying?  Well, for starters, Tillerman finds Stevens walking the fine line between sentiment and schmaltz and often erring on the side of the latter.  "Where Do the Children Play?" asks the opener, a question lamenting the dubious advances of the modern age - a perspective, incidentally, to which I might otherwise be sympathetic - but which is posed in such a laughably earnest fashion, you realize why the name "Cat Stevens" has become a coded punchline for authors like Nick Hornby.  From there, unbelievably, things get worse, then better, and finally end.  "Wild World" establishes a new watermark for creepy break-up songs as Stevens sings to the girl leaving him, "I'll always remember you like a child, girl."  "Miles From Nowhere" is interesting at first until you realize the lyrics only appear to make sense.  Being "miles from nowhere" literally means being somewhere, but that's not how Stevens uses it.  So, like the phrases "I could care less" or "each day worse than the next," it's nonsense.  On "Longer Boats," Stevens scoops Bill "You Can't Explain That" O'Reilly by four decades, insisting "nobody knows / how a flower grows."  Yeah, nobody.  Except botanists!  This is the kind of driveling palaver that gives hippies a bad name.  "Father and Son," unlike the other songs here, is genuinely affecting (as opposed to affected), but - tellingly - it is the only track for which co-songwriting credit is given.  In 2003, Stevens won a plagiarism lawsuit against the The Flaming Lips, for co-opting part of its melody for "Fight Test."  You will notice however that neither they nor any of the other groups sued by Stevens were ever accused of ripping off his lyricsGrade: C-