In this post, Tad Wert, Carl Olson, Erik Heter, Kevin McCormick, and Bradley Birzer review that 1985 classic, Hounds of Love, by the inimitable Kate Bush!  She was brilliant then, and she remains brilliant to this day.  We are honored, and humbled, to consider her music as 1980’s perfection.  God bless, the Fairlight!

Brad: Tad, Erik, Kevin, and Carl, so good to talk to you again.  As always, a true pleasure.  Hounds of Love was my introduction to Kate Bush.  I realize that several of her albums had appeared before Hounds of Love, but it was Hounds of Love that awakened my soul to excellent music in 1985.  At the time, I was a senior in high school.   And, I mean this without hyperbole.  I had loved Rush, Yes, Genesis, Thomas Dolby, ABC, and The B-52s prior to discovering Kate Bush, but it really was Hounds of Love that made me realize what music could accomplish.  I really liked side one of the album, but I was deeply in love with side two: “The Ninth Wave.”

The fact that so many outlets gave it a high review suggested to me (then, as well as now) that prog was a delight for all concerned, even if they shunned prog in their formal reviews.  Bush’s Hounds of Love was ultimate prog for those who hate prog!!!

Tad: Brad, thank you for suggesting we discuss this wonderful album! I have fond memories of it as well – for me, 1985 was one of the greatest years for music ever. Just consider some of the albums released that year: Arcadia’s So Red The Rose, Bryan Ferry’s Boys and Girls, Clannad’s Macalla, Cocteau Twins’ ep Aikea-Guinea, The Cure’s The Head On The Door, The Dream Academy’s eponymous debut, Joni Mitchell’s Dog Eat Dog, Marillion’s Misplaced Childhood, New Order’s Low-life, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’s Crush, Prefab Sprout’s Two Wheels Good, Propaganda’s A Secret Wish, R.E.M.’s Fables of the Reconstruction, Scritti Politti’s Cupid and Psyche ‘85, Simple Minds’ Once Upon a Time, Talking Heads’ Little Creatures, Tears for Fears’ Songs From the Big Chair, The Waterboys’ This Is The Sea, … I could go on and on! It was a watershed year, when it seemed like the sky was the limit when it came to what you could hear on the radio. Warm jangly guitar rock rubbed shoulders with icy British synthpop, while there was a revival of psychedelic rock happening (remember Prince’s Around The World In a Day?) and girl groups like the Bangles were breaking into the bigtime.

And yet, despite the incredibly high bar that was being set by all of these artists, Kate Bush’s Hounds Of Love really stood out as an exceptional work. Like you, Brad, this album was the first time I heard her music. I was working in a record store at the time, and when it came in, our import buyer immediately put it on the store sound system. As those whooping synths that introduce “Running Up That Hill” came blasting out of the speakers followed by her unique voice, I knew this was something special. 

I confess that I was prejudiced against Ms. Bush at the time, due to my copy of The Rolling Stone Record Guide, which I considered the definitive authority on all things rock. I remember it brutally panned her earlier albums, and described her voice as sounding like a “Hoover vacuum cleaner”. I think 1985 was the year I tossed my book in the trash, because its biases against any music with a hint of complexity were too great to ignore! As time has passed, Rolling Stone Magazine’s original critical faves and pans have become simply embarrassing. 

Anyway, rant over! I’m happy to say that “Running Up That Hill” was an immediate cure for my initial anti-Kate Bush prejudice.

Brad: And what a rant it is/was!   Astounding, Tad.   So glad you put her into context: Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair; Brian Ferry, Boys and Girls; New Order, Low Life.  Astounding stuff.  From every direction, astounding stuff.  And, as great as Tears for Fears, Brian Ferry, and New Order, Kate Bush still delivers the best.  Well, I’m not sure that Hounds of Love is better than Songs from the Big Chair, but I can still admit that one is worthy of the other.  What a year 1985 was!  Incredible.

Carl: Yes, great rant! Before getting to Bush and Hounds of Love, I want to give a rousing “Hear, hear!” to this: “Rolling Stone Magazine’s original critical faves and pans have become simply embarrassing.” I clued into that after reading their stupid “reviews” of Queen and Kansas, two of my favorite groups of my late teens (and still on regular rotation, all these years later). Plus, the albums they seemed to laud and drool over were, for me, almost all incredibly boring (and usually overtly leftist politically, which only added to the boredom). C’est la vie!

I graduated from high school in 1987, and didn’t hear anything by Kate Bush until late 1988, when I saw the film “She’s Having a Baby.” The movie itself was so-so overall, but the delivery scene, during which Bush’s song “A Woman’s World”—specifically written and created by Bush for the John Hughes’s film—played, was powerful. I was simply stunned by the song, which was both strikingly ethereal and emotionally raw. It was simply beautiful. And that voice! There was no other voice like that.

I got a copy of The Sensual World album (1988) as soon as it came out–and then bought everything else by Bush, including The Hounds of Love. There simply wasn’t anyone else like Bush; her music was (and is) remarkably unique, idiosyncratic in the very best way. And while I certainly have favorite songs, Bush has always been an Album Artist for me. I’ll say more about a couple of songs later, but here’s my highest praise for Bush: really good artists, even great artists, will create wonderful and memorable albums. But the truly best artists create complete worlds. They transport you somewhere, somehow. And that’s what Bush has always done for me: she demands complete and absolute attention, with characters and narratives that are wild, rich, bewildering, poignant, and always engrossing. 

Tad: Thanks, gentlemen, for affirming my anti-Rolling Stone polemic. Back to the music! Carl, you hit the nail on the head when you assert that Kate Bush creates complete worlds. Hounds of Love sounds like nothing else, and it transcends its time. From those afore-mentioned whooping synths to the spritely melody of “The Morning Fog”, we are invited to explore her world of maternal love, dreaming, cloudbusting, witchhunting, and Celtic dancing, among other things.

As I’m listening to this album again, it’s hard to pick out any individual song for special attention. Every track has its beautiful moments – each one adds to the overall atmosphere of ecstatic joy on side one, and mysterious suspense on side two. Side two is a suite entitled “The Ninth Wave”, and the back cover of the album has the following quote from Tennyson’s “The Coming of Arthur”:

 “Wave after wave, each mightier than the last

‘Til last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep

And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged

Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame”

If any other artist quoted Alfred, Lord Tennyson, I would consider them unbearably pretentious, but not Ms. Bush. In her hands, it makes perfect sense.

Brad: I remember hearing Kate Bush for the first time–again, Hounds of Love–during the fall semester of my senior year of high school.  Some friends and I, all deeply rooted in progressive rock, were always looking for New Wave music that somehow touched on all things prog.  We found it in some of Thomas Dolby, U2, Wang Chung (To Live and Die in L.A. soundtrack), INXS, and in lots of Rush, post-Gabriel Genesis, and Yes, etc.  

But, we also found side two of Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love to be extraordinary.  Bush wasn’t just playing at being progressive, this side of the album, “The Ninth Wave,” as Tad noted above, was nothing but prog–-whole and complete and utterly compelling.  To this day, I never get tired of side two of the album.  

To be certain, I never tire of side one, either, but I’m more drawn to side two.  “Running Up That Hill”–the opening track of the album–has been a Birzer family car mix staple for at least twenty years now.  We, as a family, already loved Stranger Things, but we were completely blown away by Season 4’s gorgeous integration and employment of the song, itself always waiting to be fulfilled by the most noble heroism.

Additionally, my freshman year of college saw the release of Kate Bush’s greatest hits compilation, The Whole Story, and I devoured it.  As it happened, my junior year of college, a good friend, Greg Scheckler, made a mixtape of all pre-Hounds of Love Bush.  Why I’d not already explored her pre-1985 music at that point remains an autobiographical mystery to me.  I still treasure that cassette that Greg made me, and I followed up by buying the complete catalogue of her work.

[To this day, I proudly own all of her CDs–separately and as a part of a comprehensive two-box set, complete with b-sides and live renditions]

Carl, I loved “She’s Having a Baby” when it came out.  I saw it three or four times, believe it or not.  I was a total John Hughes junkie!  And, I loved “The Woman’s Work” from Kate.

Regardless, I despise Rolling Stone–aside from the articles by P.J. O’Rourke–and always have.  Not only is it predictably leftist, but it’s predictably boring.  Its weird hatred of Rush and then love of Rush at the end of the band’s career is nothing short of bizarre.

But, back to “The Ninth Wave.”  Here, Kate Bush is at her absolute best, rivalled only by disk two of her later album, Aerial.  As many times as I’ve listened to “The Ninth Wave,” I’ve never totally understood it.  And, it’s in the mystery of the whole concept that titilates me.  I think if I knew exactly what Kate Bush wanted, I’d be a bit disappointed.  

As it is, it strikes me that a woman is lost, trying to navigate by various means–some supernatural (“Waking the Witch”), some by invoking the weirdest of the Beatles “(Watching You Without Me”), some by folklore (“Jig of Life”), and some by utterly natural means (“Hello, Earth”)–well, with a little German devil thrown in.

Hello earth
Hello earth
With just one hand held up high
I can blot you out
Out of sight
Peek-a-boo,
Peek-a-boo, little earth
With just my heart and my mind
I can be driving
Driving home
And you asleep
On the seat
I get out of my car
Step into the night
And look up at the sky
And there’s something bright
Traveling fast
Look at it go
Look at it go
Hello earth
Hello earth
Watching storms
Start to form
Over America
Can’t do anything
Just watch them swing
With the wind out to sea
All you sailors
(Get out of the waves, get out of the water)
All life-savers,
(Get out of the waves, get out of the water)
All you cruisers,
(Get out of the waves, get out of the water)
All you fishermen
Head for home
Go to sleep, little earth
I was there at the birth
Out of the cloudburst
The head of the tempest
Murderer
Murder of calm
Why did I go?
Why did I go?
Tiefer, tiefer
Irgendwo in der tiefe
Gibt es ein licht
Go to sleep little earth

All of it comes together in the album’s final track, the gentle and harmonious “The Morning Fog.”  All seems well, as the protagonist is “born again” and remembers her unwavering love for her mother, her father, and her brothers.  Indeed, all “loved ones.”  What better way to end the album?  No, not possible.  It is the perfect ending to a perfect album.

That said, I still gravitate toward disc 2 of Aerial. . . .

Erik: Before I start in on the main topic, please let me chime in (pile on?) on the rant again on the vapid, droll, banal, and way-past-its-sell-by-date Rolling Stone, staffed by reviewers that write reviews for other reviewers in the hopes to look cool.  I’d more trust Britney Spears’ opinion on the implications of quantum mechanics before I’d trust a music review from Rolling Stone at this point.  

Now, to the subject proper.  When Brad asked me to participate in this, I had to sheepishly admit that I had never heard Hounds of Love or any Kate Bush album for that matter, risking my credentials in the prog-lovers club.  That turned out to not be entirely true, as once I looked at the track listing for this album, I quickly realized, thanks to the Netflix show Stranger Things and wider cultural echoes it made, that I had heard the first song on this album a number of times.  But alas, that was the only song, so I’m going to be coming at this album from the perspective of a newcomer.  

So far, I’ve only given it one listen (but have more planned tomorrow!).  So for now, I’m going to add a few initial impressions.

To the surprise of exactly nobody, I will first start by saying Kate has an incredibly beautiful voice, with a vocal range that only a few possess.  She can seamlessly transition between soft and subdued to exceptionally powerful and just as easily slide anywhere within that range.  She uses her voice to such great effect as not only a vehicle to deliver her lyrics, but as an instrument in the larger orchestra.  Some of the backing vocal arrangements in this album are simply otherworldly.  I’m always a sucker for innovative vocal arrangements and good harmonies – think Good Vibrations by The Beach Boys, Leave It by Yes, and Seven Bridges Road by The Eagles.  Kate has several tracks on this album with vocal arrangements – all of her own, multi-tracked voice – that stand with the best of any of them.  

Another initial impression of this album is the way many of the songs combine catchy hooks associated with pop songs with the complexity of prog.  The artists that can pull that off are few and far between, but Kate again shows another area in which she shines.  Two tracks where this really hit me were The Big Sky and the album’s closer, The Morning Fog.  The former includes some of the vocal arrangements that I have discussed above, and if I may paraphrase a line from a Eurythmic song, those arrangements have gotten into me like a poison dart.  After even a single listen, I can’t get them out of my head – nor do I want to.  “The Big Sky” also has a nice, thumping bass line that propels the listener along.  With respect to the latter track, there is something about it that draws me in, and I can’t quite place my finger on it.  The Morning Fog is somewhat subdued, but in a way that demands the listener’s attention.  And in a glorious, wonderful contradiction, it sounds very much like something from 1985 while also sounding like nothing at all from 1985.  I absolutely love that.

So there you have it – my very first impression of Hounds of Love – and boy, it’s a good one.  I’m looking forward to digging into this and finding more hidden treasures.  I’ll be sure to tell you about them in my next entry!

Tad: Erik, it is so nice to get the reactions and perspectives of someone who has never heard Hounds Of Love. I tend to have the same taste in music you do – I love a good hook! So, I agree that “The Big Sky” and “The Morning Fog” are exceptionally good tracks. When the chiming opening of “The Morning Fog” bursts out, after following the dense, dark, and mysterious “”Ninth Wave” songs, it is a cathartic moment for me. Brad, I love your characterization of it as a “born again” moment.

I’d like to mention Kate’s use of samples and processed vocals. That was something relatively new in 1985, and I think she does a nice job of employing them judiciously. They all serve the song, and they aren’t included for the sake of novelty. Let’s face it, by the mid-80’s there was an undeniable “sound” of echoing drums, soaring synths, and choppy guitars that, 40 years later, sounds pretty dated. Ms. Bush avoided that pitfall, and as a result Hounds Of Love is timeless in its allure.

Brad, like you, I’m not sure what the core meaning of “The Ninth Wave” is, and I don’t think I want to know. As you so aptly put it, the mystery of the concept is what’s key.

Kevin: One observation if I might sneak in here. I find Kate Bush’s storytelling craft to be most compelling.  While there are many great songwriters over the last sixty years of modern popular music, Kate Bush uniquely approaches her subjects as a narrator walking her audience through wonderful short stories.  If she’s then a songwriter, she’s just as much a screenwriter.  Her albums play like great short films. Her lyrics are frequently dialogues with which she brings her listeners into intimate conversations or moments. What sets her music apart is her ability to lower her guard through her characters engaged in intense exchanges and fleeting moments.  And she is totally invested in revealing that narrative–whatever the subject may be.  It is no surprise that her first success was with the quite unusual (even to this day) and not-so-subtly  literary “Wuthering Heights.” She’s a powerful storyteller and knows how to encase those stories in these extraordinary soundtracks. 

Carl: Always fascinating to hear first impressions of great music (or books, art, film, etc.), Erik, and I enjoyed your observations!

Last night, I revisited the exceptional 2015 biography (nearly 500 pages long!) titled Under the Ivy: The Life & Music of Kate Bush by Graeme Thomson. I highly recommend it for anyone with any interest in Bush. Thomson highlights some aspects of Bush’s work and this album in particular that helped put a few of my final thoughts in perspective. 

He reports (the book is very well sourced, as he talked to many of the musicians who worked with Bush over the years) that Bush writes most songs very quickly—sometimes in just hours or a few days—but that it is the production, playing, and arranging that takes months, even years. And part of that, which is so evident in Hounds of Love, is her ground-breaking use of the Fairlight, electronics, and using eclectic instrumentation and vocals. 

He also emphasizes that Bush is remarkable for her vision of what she wants an album to be sonically, stylistically, etc. That should not be passed over too quickly, as there are many exceptional musical artists who simply don’t possess that quality. For example, the fantastic singer/songer-writer Seal (I’m a huge fan, as Brad knows well), has frankly admitted in recent interviews that he happily turned over song sequencing and related decisions to the legendary producer (and musician) Trevor Horn because he (Seal) simply doesn’t see that as an ability he possesses. Many have emphasized (rightly) that Bush set a new standard for women in “pop/rock” music; I’d say she simply set a new standard, regardless of sex.

Thomson also hits on something I was already going to mention, which is how deeply this album draws upon nature. Water, for example, is referenced throughout; it obviously has a huge role in the second half of the album. This is connected, without doubt, to both Bush’s Catholic upbringing (she no longer considers herself Catholic, but has spoken about Catholicism’s “powerful, beautiful, passionate images”) and her longtime interest in mythology, folklore, the occult, and so forth. Her eclectic musical tastes and styles seems to reflect her quite syncretistic approach to religion and spirituality. 

As a practicing Catholic, I find this quite intriguing and if I ever had a chance to talk to her (completely theoretical, obviously), I would be most interested in her worldview and how that informs her artistry. And that is because she has always struck me as someone whose entire work flows from how she sees reality; that is, she doesn’t write and create music for a certain audience. She just creates—and what she has created has been one of most unique and timeless bodies of “popular” music we’ll ever have the privilege of hearing.

Erik: Carl, Bradley, Kevin, and Tad, thanks for all your kind words – and thanks even more for bringing me into this discussion.  For in doing so, you have introduced me to something that has just blown me away in a way that only the truly great albums are capable of doing.  

Between my last post and this one, I gave Hounds of Love a couple more listens, and did a little research as well.  My initial impressions have only been reinforced, while new ones have come to me to lead to an even deeper appreciation.

For example, while I had read above that this album had (at least in its vinyl incarnation) a pop side and a progressive side, my additional listens made that all the more clear.  While the first five tracks have more of a pop bent (and I don’t mean that in any disparaging sense at all), it’s the last seven tracks where Kate really begins experimenting.  Her voice is positively lovely and mesmerizing in the opening track of this sequence, And Dream of Sheep.  The next track, Under Ice, is haunting, ominous, and … beautiful, beginning with the staccato string section that dominates the song.  Is she dreaming here?  I’m not sure, but the ‘wake up!’ that sets the next track in motion suggests as much.  Waking the Witch might be the most offbeat track on the album, with some interludes that are suggestive of similar ones from Pink Floyd’s Echoes.  Watching You Without Me is another track that draws one in and demands to be listened to, while also having a subdued quality to it.  It’s almost like a whisper.  Kate then does another sharp turn into Celtic-flavored folk on Jig of LIfe – completely unexpected and yet it works so perfectly.  Hello Earth is an incredible track, beginning with Kate in her beautiful, soft voice, and transitioning through different moods.  The inclusion of just a touch of the Celtic folk from the track before and the addition of the choir add flavor to this song.  And as I mentioned above, The Morning Fog that closes the album is a thing of pure beauty.  

One of the things that really jumps out at me is the temporal context in which it was made.  While 1985 produced some excellent music, the kind of music that appears on much of Hounds of Love, especially The Ninth Wave that makes up the second vinyl side was terribly out of fashion.  Yet Kate was obviously undeterred, determined to make the album she wanted to make, to make music on her terms.  Not only did she do it, but she managed to receive commercial success and critical acclaim in doing so at precisely a time few others would have (and I’m not referring to just the nimrods at Rolling Stone).  Artistic integrity and having the courage of one’s convictions are beautiful things in and of themselves, and Kate shows it in spades here.

I was previously unaware that Kate was also the producer of this album.  That really jumped out at me, since in taking on this role she assumed complete responsibility for the finished product.  Many musical artists, even great ones, need the right producer to turn their creative inspiration into a finished product.  To use one example, 90125 from Yes isn’t the same album without Trevor Horn.  Self-producing is fraught with pitfalls.  And yet, here is Kate, not merely avoiding these pitfalls, but taking on the role that bridges the gap between creative inspiration as an input and a masterpiece as an output, and executing flawlessly.  

The producer’s role is even more impressive when you consider the technical innovations that are found on this album from start to finish.  As Tad mentioned above, innovations such as samples and processed vocals were relatively new in 1985, so employing them on a project this ambitious was not without risk, to say the least.  Combining synthesizers, Celtic folk instrumentation, and choral arrangements was equally risky.  And these risks were taken in the context of making music that was unlike anything else contemporary to 1985.  And despite all these risks, the album is a complete artistic triumph, a masterpiece that still reverberates, as evidenced by the resurgence of its leadoff track thanks to Stranger Things (which was insisted upon by one of its stars, 80’s child Winona Ryder, who described herself as “obsessed” with Kate Bush).

So guys, if you were trying to make me a Kate Bush fan, congratulations – mission accomplished.  I’m going to spend more time absorbing this album, but I’ll happily take your recommendations on where to go next.  Thanks again!!

Tad: And with Erik’s ringing endorsement of Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, we’ll bring our symposium to a close. You can purchase a hard copy of this album from our friends at Burning Shed. Buying music from them helps support artists like Ms. Bush.

Here’s the video for “Running Up That Hill”: