or better or worse, we here at Stylus, in all of our autocratic consumer-crit greed, are slaves to timeliness. A record over six months old is often discarded, deemed too old for publication, a relic in the internet age. That's why each week at Stylus, one writer takes a look at an album with the benefit of time. Whether it has been unjustly ignored, unfairly lauded, or misunderstood in some fundamental way, we aim with On Second Thought to provide a fresh look at albums that need it.

Nothing charms us record geeks more than a total eccentric does. We all have pored over Brian Wilson’s Pet Sounds and the aborted Smile sessions like biblical scholars studying the Dead Sea scrolls. We have examined the artistic crack-ups of Syd Barrett. We have debated whether Skip Spence’s Oar is the work of a genius gone mad or another example of crap from the overrated San Francisco scene. All this systematic study leaves one tired; we need to find a new idiosyncratic musician to explore. Let me steer you towards Roy Wood’s Boulders.

Roy Wood first came into the focus of the rock and roll spectrum as a leading member of one of the most legendary, and indeed, notorious bands of sixties- The Move. Controversy reigned throughout The Move’s career. Their ferociously wild live set, which included the demolition of various worldly goods, resulted in them being banned from concert halls across the country. Roy’s lyrics revealed an original and often curious view of the world (eg. second Move single "I Can Hear The Grass Grow") that raised many a disapproving eyebrow and the band had the dubious honor of being sued by Prime Minister Harold Wilson concerning the promotional postcard used to advertise "Flowers In The Rain", the first ever record to be played on Radio One.

The Move morphed into The Electric Light Orchestra. A band created to satisfy Wood’s burning desire to create pop songs with heavily classical overtones. After co-writing and co-producing the first ELO album, Wood decided to look elsewhere for a fresh challenge and a new direction. He began work on a solo recording. The idea of one person overdubbing enough stuff until he had played the entire song was relatively young when Wood started work on Boulders; his truly solo album (even more solo in the sense that he also painted the cover art). Wood had been working on Boulders four years prior to its release, and indeed it contained at least one song that he had written for The Move. Some of Wood's more impressive feats on this album were "Dear Elaine", on which he overdubbed as many self-played cellos as possible, and a mock-Irish jig called "The Irish Loafer And His Hen." The lovable “When Grandma Plays the Banjo” is a personal favorite. In some places, Wood employed early tricks - such as slowing down or speeding up the tape while recording background vocals - to increase his already considerable singing range.

Oh, this album breaks my heart, I love it so much. Few pop albums move me like this does. This album is sweet and wide-eyed. It's a lovely record, emotional, funny and full of melody like the ocean is full of water. Had the album came out in 4 years before and not in 1973, it would have gained more prominence. Time has held it’s own. It is dated in spots, but it is all jewels from beginning to end. As much as I love The Move, I think this album tops those records. I have no idea what was going on with Wood's mental state, but the album strikes me as a last-stand for a grown man's childhood love of pop music.