Loudon Wainwright's first album was released just a year ago. Almost uniform praise followed in all reviews, but not a whole lot happened to his career fortunately, probably. While his advocates urged that Wainwright be recognized as the new major songwriter and prepared a goldrush. Wainwright laid back and kept personal, club, IV and radio appearances to a bare minimum and interviews almost nil. In retrospect, witnessing the increasing cultural cannibalism and the grimness of speedy superstar trip. Wainwright's professional restraint was a good thing. He didn't think he was ready.

On the first record. I wished there had been some additional lightness and more display of Wainwright's abilities with lyrical melodies (he has a good, clear voice), but those were my only arguments. Its tone was a little heavy and didn't totally reflect the performing Wainwright; of course few records capture the personality we hear and see in performance, but the gentle, ironic sense of humor slipped by to a marked degree. Wainwright's material is personal and naked, comparable to the function of poetry. There's a lot of pain there but Wainwright is fun sometimes, too, and more of that is on this record, with the explications of loneliness. And again, the accompaniment is just his guitar, with two exceptions, and no overdubs.

Wainwright's first record could have been a double album, for he was singing many of the songs recorded here before even the first one was recorded. His sets often opened with the first cut on this album. "Me and My Friend the Cat." It never occurred to me to ask what this song meant. I assumed it was about communication with a cat, maybe in a stoned state, but others aren't so sure. "With a cat ...?" Sure, why not. If only you'd been there.

"Motel Blues," a more recent composition, is an excellent song, asking a young girl to spend the night, to stave off loneliness, and a good example of why Wainwright is head and shoulders above other songwriters. Loneliness is grim but other songwriters skim what Wainwright bites. "Come up to my hotel room, sleep with me ... save my life ... I don't want to make any late night New York calls I don't want to stare at those ugly grass mat walls." And his special eye: "There's a Bible in the drawer, don't be afraid ..."

"Nice Jewish Girls" is another old song, a light piece describing the writer's very WASP background and his weakness for Jewish girls. "Be Careful. There's a Baby in the House" is a beautiful song and another that only Wainwright would could do. Like everything else, his approach to babies is unique: "Be careful, there's a baby in the house And a baby will not be fooled ... And a baby is better than smart It can waddle through all the stuff yo do/Never mind your big head start."

In "Motel Blues" he writes: "What can a lonely rock and roller do?" Wainwright is usually termed a folk singer because he sings alone with acoustic guitar, but he is more like a lonely rock and roller. So's Neil Young. Wainwright's songs explore the outer limits of loneliness and unhappiness, expose games, but it's accomplished with a rare musical integrity and a lack of self-righteousness.

For example, in the medley of three songs, "I Know I'm Unhappy" and "Suicide Song" are about what their titles imply, but the tone of the songs suggest that we've all been there and don't get bogged down with self-pity, have some fun, life comes and goes, including your own. The medley ends with "Glenville Reel" (one of his older songs), a reel, yes, a love song, a delight.

Side two opens with a light ditty, "Samson and the Warden." Wainwright's on the piano on this one, singing of the travails of the hippie bust haircut and then some more fun with "Plane. Too" it's just about what's on this plane that he took from San Francisco to New York, see? Then "Cook That Dinner, Dora" which is another delightful dish.

Back to some seriousness with "Old Friend." a lament when we realize we have outgrown a close comrade. Then there's a great cut of "Old Paint," the only song on the album not written by Wainwright and isn't it nice that someone recorded "Old Paint" again and did such a beautiful rendition with Kate McGarrigle (Wainwright's wite) of Kate and Roma singing harmony and Saul Broudy on harmonica. "Winter Song" is, not so much a song about winter; winter sets the stage and is the tone of the song but it's a song of the seasons, the life cycle–a theme Wainwright touches on in much of his material.

His forte is lyrics, but the melodies are always excellent. As a guitarist, he can't be described as a fine musician, but the structure, accents, arrangements are. It all fits into a total unit and he does it alone. Remarkable.

"Saw Your Name in the Paper" was written after Wainwright read about the death of Janis Joplin. The song is so good, such a beautifully written piece about what we do to our heroes, it's almost gross to comment. Here are some of the lyrics: "Saw your name in the paper. It was quite a blow ... Maybe you'll get famous. Maybe you'll get rich. It's alright don't be afraid lots of us got that itch/Lots of us are sad Take the money, take the love, take all the people give The people all are dying and somehow you help them live The people will destroy you, that love will turn to hate ... Make yourself a hero it's heroes people crave Make yourself a master but know you are a slave."

It's obvious that Album II is one of the major records of the year and this is one of our major talents. I'm just glad it's finally here. (RS 88)

KARIN BERG