Stevens’ Sometimes Painful, Often Poetic Musings on Life

When Cat Stevens first caught the attention of the pop music world at large with his 1970 album “Mona Bone Jakon,” he sounded as if he’d come straight from a round-table exchange with the likes of Keats and Shelley.

His intensely introspective and painfully revealing songs seemed lifted from the era of the Romantics. But if his lyrics about star-crossed love and existential uncertainty appeared unlikely fuel for pop stardom, his gift for haunting melody carried them quickly to the masses.

British audiences had known Stevens--born Steven Demetre Georgiou--years earlier from pop hits such as “Matthew and Son” and “I Love My Dog.” But his first encounter with fame soon put him in the hospital with tuberculosis brought on by heavy smoking, drinking and other indulging.

It was during his recovery, and the lifestyle reevaluation it forced upon him, that he largely shaped the philosophical perspective--wary yet attuned to the gifts and temptations of the temporal world--that would emerge in albums during 1970-71 that carried him to worldwide stardom: “Mona Bone Jakon,” “Tea for the Tillerman” and “Teaser and the Firecat,” newly reissued as a fitting trilogy.

There are no extra tracks or fresh liner notes on the newly reissued versions of these albums--just Stevens’ own original whimsical artwork for each, and the lyrics as they appeared on the LPs. For that, A&M; also has issued a new single-CD retrospective, “The Very Best of Cat Stevens.” It nicely traces his journey from the London-bred teen-idol son of a Greek-born restaurant owner and Swedish mother to a sadder-but-wiser adult pop star.

Stevens converted to the Muslim faith in 1977 and abandoned his pop career. Under his new name, Yusuf Islam, he became the center of controversy in 1989 when he voiced his support for an Islamic death edict against author Salman Rushdie.

This reissue series continues in September with 1972’s standout “Catch Bull at Four,” which challenges “Tillerman” as his finest album, along with “Foreigner” and “Buddha and the Chocolate Box.”

*** “Mona Bone Jakon,” A&M.; From the opening “Lady D’Arbanville,” a song about a man standing over a lover who stirs no more and wondering “Why do you sleep so still?” it was evident Stevens had big questions in mind--questions that didn’t always have obvious answers. “Pop Star” cast a cynical eye over the trappings of fame, while “I Wish, I Wish” angled for no less than ultimate truth. The songs also established Stevens’ predilection for unusual rhythmic breaks and unconventional meters--qualities that made most of his songs all but impossible to dance to. Peter Gabriel fans can hear the future progressive rocker tooting a flute on some of these tunes.

**** “Tea for the Tillerman,” A&M.; One of rock’s indispensable albums and one that helped usher in the age of the folk-pop singer-songwriter, “Tillerman” yielded the fetching “Wild World,” the poignant “Father and Son” and the winsomely questing “On the Road to Find Out.” Songs from “Mona” and “Tillerman” also contributed mightily to the cult status of the 1970 film “Harold and Maude” about a privileged teen bent on suicide until he meets a free-thinking octogenarian.

*** 1/2 “Teaser and the Firecat,” A&M.; Stevens could write stunningly gorgeous love songs, and in 1971 he turned out several for the successor to “Tillerman,” including “If I Laugh” and “How Can I Tell You.” “Rubylove” put his Greek heritage on display in a spirited, bouzouki-driven love declaration with verses sung alternately in English and Greek. It also included his musical setting of an old French hymn, “Morning Has Broken,” with a young Rick Wakeman handling the signature baroque-like piano backing. Plus the hit singles “Peace Train” and “Moonshadow.” All these albums were exquisitely recorded, full of crisp guitar work and closely miked pianos and drums, and they remain sonically striking three decades later.

*** 1/2 “The Very Best of Cat Stevens,” A&M.; This supplants three previous Stevens collections, all of which are now out of print, and it does the best job yet of providing a single-CD career overview, reaching back to sample his pre-’70s material (including his original version of “The First Cut Is the Deepest,” a hit in 1977 for Rod Stewart). The big omission in the new set is “If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out,” the “Harold and Maude” theme that so succinctly captures the sweet charm of Stevens’ yin-yang music.