Angry

Right here on THE ZOO the Zoo Crew has been spinning a track that hits with the kind of raw edge the Freaks know how to dig. Billy Squier's "Angry" from the 1993 album Tell the Truth carries a groove that feels like it was built for late-night spins on freeform rock radio, the kind where the needle drops and the room just locks in. Squier has talked about this record as one of the strongest things he ever put together, calling it the best Billy Squier record most people never heard. Produced by Mike Chapman with Kevin Shirley handling the recording and mixing, the album was tracked across spots in New York City like the Magic Shop, the Power Station, and Electric Lady. Squier assembled different players for different songs, aiming for a direct, in-your-face sound that stepped away from the bigger arena production of his earlier work. "Angry" opened the set and got pushed out as the first radio single. According to Squier himself, that single pulled in more adds than any release in his entire history. Radio stations were picking it up hard right out of the gate.

Then the whole thing got buried. Squier has described how the new president at Capitol, Gary Gersh, called him at home after the record was delivered. The man told him this was the best album the label would be putting out for the next several months, then turned around and said he was going to make sure nobody heard it. No real advertising, no MTV push, nothing. The album failed to chart in the US and moved fewer than 40,000 copies according to SoundScan numbers. Squier has said the experience felt malevolent, almost vindictive, and it drove him out of the music business for a stretch of years. He has compared the finished record favorably to something like the Beatles' Revolver, saying the quality holds up when you put them side by side. For the Freaks who dig deep cuts and the stories behind the spins, this is the kind of tale that makes the song land harder. The lyrics open with lines about getting the master key, setting servants free, and waking up angry after wrapping a life in chains. It reads like a breakup from control and betrayal, the moment someone decides they are done begging and taking their place in line. Squier wrote it all himself, and the track carries that personal weight with driving guitars from players like Jeff Golub, bass from Carmine Rojas, and drums from David Palmer. It was his last modest radio hit, and the album marked the end of his long run with Capitol.

That kind of pushback from the industry makes you look back at how Squier got started in the first place. William Haislip Squier was born in Wellesley, Massachusetts, on May 12, 1950. His grandfather introduced him to classical piano lessons around age nine, and he stuck with it for a couple of years. By thirteen he had bought a Danelectro guitar and a Supro amp from a neighbor for ninety dollars and started teaching himself from chord books and records. He formed his first band, the Reltneys, at fourteen, playing school dances and local spots with British Invasion material. The real turn came when a friend brought home John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton. Squier has said that record gave him goosebumps and changed everything. He caught Cream at the Psychedelic Supermarket in Boston in 1967, then ended up playing in the house band there himself, opening for acts like the Grateful Dead and the Steve Miller Band. After high school he moved to New York City, joined a music-and-poetry project called Magic Terry and the Universe, and later played in short-lived groups like the Kicks alongside future New York Dolls drummer Jerry Nolan. He spent a brief time at Berklee College of Music before forming the Sidewinders and then Piper. Piper, which had a connection through Kiss manager Bill Aucoin, released a couple of albums on A&M and even opened for Kiss on a tour that hit Madison Square Garden. When that band folded, Squier signed a solo deal with Capitol and put out The Tale of the Tape in 1980. The big breakthrough arrived with Don't Say No in 1981, driven by "The Stroke" and a string of other rock radio staples that defined early MTV-era hard rock. From there he built a career on melodic hard rock that mixed power and hooks, right up through the years that led to Tell the Truth.

For the Zoo Freaks who want more of the story or just to keep up with what Squier is doing, the official website at billysquier.com carries liner notes, lyrics, and updates on the recent vinyl reissue of Tell the Truth that finally got the album out on LP with extra material. His official Facebook page is Billy Squier, the Instagram account is officialbillysquier, and the X account is @officialbsquier. Those spots have been posting about the Record Store Day edition and other recent activity around the album. The music and the history behind it keep rolling for anyone who still wants to hear what a freeform rock station can dig up.