“Perennially underrated” are the first words of the headline on AllMusic’s Utopia page. The band was a sustained 1970s/1980s side project for songwriter/producer/performer Todd Rundgren, rock’s consummate hyphenate. Starting as a prog rock outfit in the early 70s, Utopia “evolved into a shiny mainstream rock quartet … Rundgren retreated into the background as each of his bandmates contributed songs and lead vocals to the albums. By the early ’80s, Utopia had developed into a hit-making entity in their own right.” 1980’s “Set Me Free,” a tune written by Utopia bassist Kasim Sulton, led the band’s singles by reaching #27 on the US pop charts.
According to the Rundgren-centric TRConnection, Rundgren remembers that “… at a certain point in time, Utopia was performing live as well as any quartet in the world.” But the band’s fanbase was miles deep, without nearly enough breadth to match. Drummer Willie Wilcox added, “The fan/band relationship was still fine. But when you’re still playing the same halls after ten years, getting the same guarantees, and expenses are going up, there start to be repercussions.” In addition to the band’s fervent but oddly finite following, Utopia went through a series of record label woes resulting from corporate consolidations, internecine squabbling, and pure bad luck. By the mid-80s, Utopia finally decided to call it a day, though they never officially disbanded.
Given Utopia’s often cerebral focus, 1986’s “Monument” certainly might have been written in the abstract. But for plenty of the band’s fans, the tune measures the distance between the quartet’s democratic ideals and the cold realities of making ends meet. At their collective best, each member wrote songs, sang lead vocals, and covered notoriously complex backup vocal harmonies in addition to top-drawer instrumental playing. But as one of the band’s final releases, “Monument” strongly evokes the tone of elegiac anthem not for a person, but for a time and place: “you can’t go home again.”
I got the message in my mailbox / Nobody goes to church no more
They’re closing down your little altar / They’ve locked the sanctuary door
Don’t fight it / Who can say that you didn’t try
Don’t fight it / Old soldiers never die …
Starting in G minor, the intro then jumps to a verse in Ab minor (0:36) as Sulton’s expressive tenor outlines a stark endgame, despite all efforts. At 0:58, the pre-chorus shifts to F minor; 1:10 brings a return to another verse and pre-chorus. The F major chorus (1:44 – 2:06) seemingly provides a reflection on the band’s unique vision, meticulous craft, and overarching legacy:
And if we don’t meet again
I know somewhere a monument
Stands in the name of our love …
Postscript:
Once the aftermath of its effective dissolution subsided, the band eventually reunited in Japan in the early 90s and a presented a full North American tour in 2018. Rundgren and Sulton continue to collaborate regularly. Demonstrating that the band was anything but a studio creation despite Rundgren’s famed production abilities, here’s a live 2018 version: the only change in the lineup is keyboardist/vocalist GLASYS in original keys player Roger Powell’s stead.