Todd Rundgren’s Something/Anything? has had the distinction of being heralded as a masterpiece, and a cornerstone of power-pop; but it’s also been reviled as a self-indulgent mess. In reality, it’s somewhere in the middle.

Rundgren had always been something of a maverick in the pop music world, notoriously uncompromising in his vision, especially when it came to other bands that he produced, and anyone asking the question of what exactly was in this guy’s head had it answered on Something/Anything? The album, possibly inspired by Paul McCartney’s early solo albums, was recorded entirely by Rundgren with him playing every instrument and singing the vocals on all but seven of the 25 songs (the fourth side is played with a full band). When listening to the album as a whole, there’s no doubt that Rundgren made this album by himself. It’s full of Let it Be-like loose ends, studio experimentation, and false starts—it’s the sound of an artist completely unrestrained, not unlike a young child trying to entertain himself in his bedroom.

But at the same time, the best part of Something/Anything? is that it’s so self-indulgent—and it helps that the man was at the top of his songwriting game. Rundgren has a song for every genre of music that he’s even the slightest bit interested in: there’s blue-eyed soul, ‘70s AOR, blues rock, ballads, Motown, hard rock, power-pop, and that’s only scratching the surface. In all seriousness, with his ability to meld note-perfect representations of wildly different genres with a twisted sense of humor, Rundgren’s modern day equivalent could very well be the brothers Ween.

Take “Black Maria,” a psych-rock workout that could easily fit alongside the likes of Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple (though his pop streak is still recognizable as ever). Rundgren clearly understands what makes these songs work—possibly better than the bands who spent years perfecting this style.

“Cold Morning Light” on the other hand, sounds like another artist altogether. Actually, it sounds like it belongs on one of those Easy Rock compilations you might buy at Target—only it’s probably better than half the songs on there. If “Black Maria” is on Classic Hard Rock radio, then “Cold Morning Light” would surely be relegated to the Easy Listening and Smooth Mix stations.

Rundgren’s completely content to turn his back on that style in order to create what some see as the genesis for power-pop, “Couldn’t I Just Tell You,” or give us a blues-flavored, barroom stomping, misogynistic ode to a “saggy thighed, baggy eyed” lady of the night on “Slut.”

The change in styles is a bit jarring. There are so many left turns and disparate genres slapped next to each other. It certainly doesn’t help when he throws in his weird studio experiments at the beginning of an otherwise great and easy pop-ballad. “Saving Grace” starts with a bizarre, massively distorted voice chanting something unintelligible before giving away to electric pianos and sweet harmonies. Despite the accessibility of the actual songs, it’s clear that Rundgren wasn’t intent on making an album for any specific audience—unless he considered himself the audience. He must’ve taken the relative success of this album (it hit number 29 on the charts) to mean other people liked his own brand of weirdness, because his next album, A Wizard, A True Star, was a real mind-fuck. But that one is for another time and place altogether…like maybe Mars in 2500 A.D.?

[buy stuff here]