TOP 40 DEBUT: November 17, 1979
PEAK POSITION: #27 (January 5, 1980)
There’s a moment from Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me that surely made Alan Parsons wince. In the scene, Dr. Evil presents his latest plan for world domination, one involving a giant laser invented by physicist Dr. Parsons, before declaring, “We shall call it… the Alan Parsons Project.” The response from his asshole son, Scott Evil? A snicker, and then a retort: “Why don’t you just call it ‘Operation Wang Chung’?” And that, in a nutshell (ahem), was what the legacy of one of the Eighties’ biggest progressive rock acts amounted to in 1999: a cheap laugh in a lazy, uninspired sequel. Scott Evil couldn’t even bother to get his dates right. (The Alan Parsons Project started in 1975. Not 1982. Ass.)
Even during their prime years, Alan Parsons and Eric Woolfson—the twin minds behind APP—rarely received much better from the critical establishment. Like most progressive rockers, they cultivated respect via a small-but-loyal cult audience: sci-fi geeks, audiophiles, musicians into “the craft,” and basically anyone with a decent pair of headphones or an expensive stereo system. But unlike other prog acts, eventual pop success was hardwired into their sound early on. The Alan Parsons Project never quite managed a start-to-finish classic album, but Parsons and Woolfson could write hits with the best of ‘em. “Damned If I Do,” which reached #27 as the decades turned over, wasn’t an anomaly. It was an early indication of things to come.
Alan Parsons was all of 18 when he received his first professional credit: “Assistant Engineering” on the Beatles’ Abbey Road. But his reputation truly solidified with his work on Pink Floyd’s magnum opus The Dark Side Of The Moon. Officially, Parsons’ role was “staff engineer.” Unofficially, he was nearly as influential as Floyd itself in shaping the sound of the Greatest Headphones Record Of All Time. The memorable clock sequence that opens “Time” is one of his field recordings; Clare Torry, the sword-of-Valhalla vocalist slicing through “The Great Gig In The Sky,” was his suggestion. The massive success of Dark Side effectively gave Parsons a blank check within the industry. Within three years, he’d have his own manager and his own studio-created ensemble.
Eric Woolfson was both that manager and the other half of that ensemble. Three years older than Parsons, he’d worked as a songwriter in London throughout the 1960s. He collaborated with Marianne Faithful and Andrew Lloyd Webber. He released a 1971 single backed by the future members of 10cc. And when he decided to make the foray into artist management, his first signing was Carl Douglas. Woolfson started managing Parsons just months before Douglas' “Kung Fu Fighting” went to #1 in over a dozen countries. (One of those countries was the U.S. “Kung Fu Fighting” is a 6.)
APP arose out of Parsons’ desire to exercise more control over his studio projects than his artists were willing to give; “The Alan Parsons Project” was both band name and statement of intent. All songwriting credits were split with Woolfson, with session musicians hired to flesh out the duo’s original demos, and certain key players retained across multiple albums. In essence, The Alan Parsons Project became the prog-rock Steely Dan. (Like the Dan, they never bothered to tour either.)
“Damned If I Do” relies heavily on one of those key players: vocalist Lenny Zakatek. Born in British India (now present-day Pakistan), Lenny du Platel sang for a variety of U.K. rock and soul groups upon moving to England in the early 1960s. In 1971 he was “discovered” by Lynsey de Paul, then-girlfriend to Dudley Moore: She introduced him to the British press, penned songs for his earliest single releases, and suggested a name change.
By 1974, the newly christened Zakatek was fronting disco-soul outfit Gonzalez. Gonzalez regularly played in London. One of their biggest fans was Eric Woolfson. And Woolfson needed a vocalist for a disco-influenced track planned for the second APP album, I Robot. Zakatek was paid 250 quid for singing lead on 1977’s “I Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You.” It became the Alan Parsons Project’s biggest hit of the Seventies. (It’s an 8.)
Zakatek was far from the only singer to appear on an APP release—I count more than fifteen different vocalists, plus two choral ensembles, across just the first four albums—but there’s a reason he was dubbed “The Voice” of the Project in certain circles. From 1977 to 1980, the Alan Parsons Project released twelve singles; only the three featuring Zakatek’s vocals hit the Top 40. I’m not sure if Woolfson and Parsons began writing to his strengths, or if his talents simply elevated their most radio-friendly material. Maybe radio listeners just appreciate consistency in their favorite bands.
“Damned If I Do” is the weakest of the three Zakatek-fronted singles, but that’s more a knock on the songwriting than the lead vocal. (His octave leap on the final chorus is an absolute killer.) The disco influence from “I Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You” mostly disappears here, replaced by pure white-boy strut that’s too stiff for funk, too breezy for actual rock. And while the verse melody is warm and engaging, the chorus barely registers. Parsons, to his credit, does everything in his power to keep the listener distracted. There’s a synthesized trumpet voluntary. There’s an impeccably played guitar solo. There’s a keyboard sequencer practically lifted wholesale from Floyd’s “On The Run.” There’s a lot of stuff.
And at some point, probably when an entire orchestra crashes in on top of the synthesized trumpets, it all becomes a bit too much. (And yes, I realize that complaining about excess in an Alan Parsons Project song is like complaining about sex jokes in a Two And A Half Men episode.) But that says less about the (obviously immaculate) production and more about the composition itself. “Damned If I Do” is, simply, a slight song. And no way can its framework support all the layers Parsons throws on top.
To put it another way, production only becomes “over-production” when it draws attention to itself. That’s why the best APP tracks operate like Swiss watches: a million moving parts, all working perfectly… and quietly. “Damned If I Do,” along with its parent album, Eve, is far from Parsons and Woolfson’s best. But its success laid the groundwork. The men of the Alan Parsons Project would return to the Top 40 soon enough, next time with much stronger material.
GRADE: 6/10
BONUS BITS: There’s basically nothing else out there beyond a 7” edit of the album track, so here’s an orchestral version (from Andrew Powell, the original arranger and conductor on Eve) that leans a bit harder into the symphonic elements.