Jesus Christ Superstar (1970)

Easter was easily my father's favorite holiday. And while he seemed okay with the commercialization of Christmas, he was strictly opposed to such Easter activities such as egg hunts or recognition of an Easter Bunny. As an ordained Presbyterian pastor, he understandably wanted to keep the focus on the resurrection of Christ, so our sole Easter Sunday activity was normally only church attendance. Quite a downer for a young child, to be honest. Although I never actually saw him participate in this ritual, my father always claimed he listened to a recording of Jesus Christ Superstar every year during Holy Week at some point. Odd, since Dad pretty much thought popular music ended with Nat King Cole. Anyway, since Dad is no longer with us and I've inherited these CDs, I'm giving them a spin today while raising a toast to both Jesus and Dad with a glass of Chivas Regal. (I'm not much of a Scotch drinker, but Dad was, so, in addition to these CDs, I inherited the half gallon of Chivas - with personalized cradle - he purchased back in the '70s before liquor bottles switched to the metric system.)

I've seen the JCS musical several times and the motion picture a couple of times, but this recording preceded both, being billed only as a "rock opera." Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice were both quite young at the time they collaborated on this, so it's surprising to me that they would tackle such lofty subject matter at that age and stage in their respective careers (the duo's previous production was 1968's Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat). Slightly altered and augmented, this music went on to become a Broadway musical in 1971 and a motion picture in 1973. The most recent production I've seen was a 2022 touring show that was so bad about a third of the audience didn't return after intermission. When Sir Lloyd Webber released Cats in '81, I quickly noticed a strong resemblance between the two shows. I'm not claiming he plagiarized himself (or any other composer), but there's no denying a similarity.

It's a fun ride to hear the original instrumentation here with lots of drawbar organ and electric guitar along with production tricks of the time. Been too long. I'll give good odds that I'll spin this again next Easter. Also, I have to admit to being greatly moved while listening to this today, for multiple reasons.

Press of the time:

• Billboard: "destined to become one of the most talked about and provocative albums on the pop scene."
• CashBox: "a powerful and dynamic rock score of sweeping melodies."
• Rolling Stone: "It does what it does perfectly."
• Stereo Review*: "one of the most pretentious, self-conscious productions in the history of popular music."

Album chart peaks:

• US Billboard 200: #1
• CashBox: #1

Tracks: My favorite cuts really haven't changed over the past half-century: What's The Buzz, Everything's Alright, Hosanna, I Don't Know How To Love Him, and Superstar. Superstar by Murray Head (#14) and I Don't Know How To Love Him by Yvonne Elliman (#28) were the two singles released from this recording.

Personal Memory Associated with this CD: see above; also...

During my first year as a public school band director (1989-90 school year), my immediate superior was a middle-aged, self-centered man who wasn't much of a mentor to me. Of course, at that time, I was but a fledgling teacher with zero experience. Truly a jackhole, this guy also didn't want to spend any of 'his' band budget on my performing groups, only his own. So, I was always scrambling, begging, and borrowing music for my bands to learn. For one concert, I found a concert band arrangement of I Don't Know How To Love Him. It's far more likely that their parents were familiar with the tune than the students, but hopefully the band learned something from the experience. Ironically, I had a student at that time with the surname of Nicodemus (see John 19:39). As for me, I quickly removed myself from that situation and moved from the Dallas-Ft. Worth metroplex to calmer environs on the gulf coast of Texas.

The first time I ever saw the movie - probably in the mid-'70s - the scene where Judas violently hanged himself really left an impression on young Mark. In the stage productions, it's usually the 39 lashes that get to me.

*After reading the brutal review by Dr. Carl Belz in Stereo Review, I located a copy of the book mentioned in the end credits, The Story Of Rock (Oxford Univ. Press, 1969). I've only just started it, but the stated premise is that rock music is folk art with a scope of 1954 - 1968, so I'm interested in reading more on that hypothesis and see how it's held up over the past 50+ years, if at all.