Newman spent much of the three years after the release of Good Old Boys at home in a creative funk, postponing the inevitable date he would have to begin work on his next album. To help break the cycle, he decided to lease a room in L.A.'s industrial section and began "going to work" to write on a daily basis, much as he had in his Metric days. While the move helped Newman's discipline, he was still burdened with creative blocks and periods of low inspiration.
Extracurricular events during this period include an appearance on James Taylor's 1975 album Gorilla (Warner Brothers BS-2866), performing hornorgan on "Lighthouse." In February 1977, he was invited to host a New Orleans-based program for Lorne Michaels prime time variety series, The Big Event Live, and performed six songs. By that summer, he had completed enough new songs to schedule a September album release -- his first to appear on on the Warner Brothers label during the near decade-long period in the late 70's and early 80's that its Reprise arm was inactive.
Little Criminals most evident departure from Newman's previous recordings was its contemporary, radio-ready pop sound - co-producers Waronker and Titelman achieved a sophisticated, glossy mix evocative of late '70's L.A. rock (Eagles' Don Henley, Glen Frey, Timothy Schmidt and Joe Walsh contributed vocal and instrumental backing). For the first time, Newman songs featured extended guitar solos and a light funk bottom.
Though no doubt welcomed by Top 40 DJs who were stumped by the orchestral sounds on Newman's previous albums and singles, to a good number of critics and diehard fans the new slick sound suggested a commercial compromise -- a problem only compounded when the album's first single, "Short People," began climbing national FM playlists, peaking at #2 in December 1977. One-time cult artist Randy Newman was fast becoming a nationally recognized name.
Propelled by an infectious four-chord hook, the single's blunt lyrics ("Short People/ Got no reason to live") caused a mild furor among some diminutive radio listeners; Warner's P.R. team insisted that the song's "voice of conscience" bridge ("Short people are just the same as you and I../All men are brothers and sisters till the day they die") did make it clear that the song targeted bigots rather than the vertically impaired (which no doubt similarly incensed bigots). Whether Newman was pushed to build in such an obvious escape hatch for the song -- particularly dispiriting after the unflinching risks taken with Good Old Boys -- may only be known to the artist and his producers. Asked to address the song's message in interviews, Newman patiently restated the obvious before turning slyly antagonistic, eventually claiming to be working on a "broader insult," a comment likely to have only reinforced the general public's misperceptions of the artist.
For some of the faithful, the initial pleasure of hearing a Newman song on the radio was soon replaced by an odd sense of disappointment: not so much fatigue from Top 40 overplay or even a sense of betrayal by Newman himself as the dull feeling that the artist had sold himself (and his audience) short by opting for a playful novelty single over one of his more meaningfully crafted songs. For the artist, though, the single's success (after years of failed top-quality releases) meant some long-awaited recognition and album sales -- as well as a newly extended seven year-contract with Warners. What began eroding (for better or worse) with Little Criminals was some of Newman's stubborn integrity and, to a degree, his artistic credibility -- he has since admitted with some regret: "I've lowered my standards."
Certainly when comparing the wispy lyrical and musical content of songs like "Jolly Coppers On Parade," "You Can't Fool The Fat Man," "Kathleen (Catholicism Made Easy)," and the limp Eagles parody, "Rider In The Rain," to earlier Newman material, it seemed as if he were barely exercising his imagination; his padding out the album with "I'll Be Home," a 1968 song written for Mary Hopkin, only made the effort seem more secondhand.
Today it is mostly the album's quieter songs that stand out: the subtle, chilling arrangement of "In Germany Before The War" (decribing a child murderer much like Peter Lorre's character in M ), the tender, gender-switched vocal of "Texas Girl At The Funeral Of Her Father" (given a splendid reading by Rickie Lee Jones on a live bootleg CD, Stage Pirates, RRC 0035), and the evocative "Baltimore" (written from impressions rather than experience, according to Newman), from its images ("Beat up little seagull/On a marble stair.."), to its people ("And they hide their faces/And they hide their eyes/'Cause their city's dyin'/And they don't know why.."). Among some fine covers: Nina Simone (CTI), Nils Lofgren (A&M).
A few outtakes have been traced to this period: a quietly effective ballad, "Going Home (1918)," the bluesy "Let It Rain," "Junkie Song," and "1492 (aka 'American History Rag')," -- a song which may have sprung from the Ragtime -inspired sessions for "Sigmund Freud's Impersonation Of Albert Einstein In America." Unfinished demos from this period include "Philadelphia," "You Lied," and an instrumental, "Melody."