I must confess that this is not my idea; having recently come across Tom Breihan’s ‘The Number Ones’ column for Stereogum, and in turn, Tom Ewing’s ‘Popular’ column for Freaky Trigger, I felt inspired to approach the format from my own geographical perspective; that is, review every single to reach number 1 on the ARIA Charts/Kent Report, and assign a numerical grade from 1-10. In the interest of brevity (and some pertinence), the column shall begin from July 1974, the date in which the initial Kent Report was first published commercially, and work forwards from there. Dependent upon time constraints and general interest, publishing of these articles will, similar to Ewing and Breihan’s columns, be daily. And now…
Stevie Wright – “Evie”
12 August – 16 September 1974 (6 Weeks).
I don’t much care for nostalgia; I especially despise nostalgia that puts the burden of ambition on the present because, supposedly, those in the past were the only ones brave enough to pave the way for ill-thought, impulsive, and indulgent expression. In the context of “Evie,” it’s nostalgia for the plodding, mammoth rock songs of yesterday, and the particular way in which extended suites are apparently not attempted in this modern scene (although the success of songs like “Runaway” certainly challenge that notion, but rockism is only a minor point of contention in this dialogue). Rock songs— specifically, ridiculous and unnecessarily long rock songs— have always had an audience, as “Stairway to Heaven” and “November Rain” are enough proof. But perhaps no one, overly long, overly indulgent, multi-part song suite has ever been as ambitious, nor as successful, as has Stevie Wright’s “Evie.”
Of course, audiences outside of Australia (and younger audiences themselves within Australia) may be unfamiliar with the title and the artist, the frontman of The Easybeats and the closest Australia came to producing a bona fide popstar in the late ‘60s. Having originally teamed with George Young (of Angus and Malcolm of AC/DC fame), he helped produce some of the biggest hits of the era, none perhaps as ubiquitous as “Friday On My Mind,” a slice of jangly, romantic pop perfection. When the band disbanded, Wright went into the pop music wilderness, performing as part of Jesus Christ Superstar and producing for a myriad of since forgotten singers and bands. It wasn’t until Hard Road, released in 1974, that Wright saw the first instance of genuine solo success, and it just so happened to be as a result of an 11-minute, three-part, electric guitar extravaganza.
It’s really better to think of “Evie” as three songs; the first, a boogie number motivated by Wright’s desire to see the titular character, ‘let [her] hair hang down,’ a startling euphemism if there ever were one. The second, the bulk of “Evie,” switches the grooviness for a turgid piano piece evoking some genuine admiration for Evie, before moving into the monumentally better third part, “Losing You,” wherein the whole thing crescendos into some sincere expression of desire on Wright’s part. Taken as three separate songs, there’s one good, one average, and one brilliant track to be had; taken as a whole, it’s a disjointed, though nevertheless entertaining, jaunt through love and affection, done only as any overblown rockstar of the ‘70s is capable. Not in scope, or range, or ambition, but in sheer ridiculousness, simplicity, and crunching, rock and roll prowess. 9.
