The title of Even in the Quietest Moments... isn't much of an exaggeration ? this 1977 album finds Supertramp indulging in some of their quietest moments, spending almost the album in a subdued mood. Actually, the cover photo picture of a snow-covered piano sitting on a mountain gives a good indication of what the album sounds like: it's elegant yet mildly absurd, witty but kind of obscure. It also feels more pop than it actually is, despite the opening single, "Give a Little Bit," their poppiest song to date, as well as their biggest hit. If the rest of the album doesn't boast another song as tight or concise as this ? "Downstream" comes close but it doesn't have the same hook, while "Babaji," a pseudo-spiritual moment that falls from the pop mark; the other four tracks clock in well over six minutes, with the closer, "Fool's Overture," reaching nearly 11 minutes ? it nevertheless places a greater emphasis on melody and gentle textures than any previous Supertramp release. So, it's a transitional album, brid