You Don't Know Me So Well

Here's a little forgotten power psych single from 1970 - Crabby Appleton with "Go Back".   Somehow it flew under my radar until just this week, but it is a fine little jaunt betwixt the Hollies and something considerably more heavy.

Because of All Their Tears, Their Eyes Can't Hope to See

I have been down the rabbit hole of Beatles' blogs of late, and as a result have spent undue time thinking about all sorts of FabFour related items.   One thing that has really taken me aback is the plethora of George Harrison songs that were rejected by John, Paul, and George Martin for inclusion on Beatles' LPs.  Perhaps the most shocking example is the song presented here today - Isn't It A Pity.   Written in 1966, George proposed it as a track for Revolver according to Beatles historian Mark Lewisohn, or possibly Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band per EMI engineer Geoff Emerick.  Not only was it rejected at that time, but was put down a second time in 1969 when George brought it up again during the Get Back sessions.   For me that was a stupendously bad decision by John and Paul.  It is one of George's most stunningly beautiful and deep compositions and could have been the best song on the LP that was eventually released as Let It Be.

George had so many pent-up songs in his side bag that when the group finally fell apart, his first solo release was chock full of tasty nuggets and he shot out of the gate ahead of his former band mates during the early solo years.

The version of Isn't It A Pity presented here is the most popular version, which appeared on the B-side of the My Sweet Lord single as well as the album.  There is a quieter reprise version at the end of the studio portion of All Things Must Pass.

The quality of George's songs was definitely on the ascent as the Beatles were coming apart at the seams.  The "what if" game in my head keeps playing through the options.   Clearly John was going to leave from the moment Yoko came on the scene, it was just a matter of time.  But could the other three have soldiered on without him?  I believe that they could have.  George was ready to step up to the plate, so to speak, but the management issues at Apple Corp. and the battle over who should manage it split Paul from the other three and doomed them from continuing as a recording entity.  In the short term it may have been a boon to George's career, but I cannot help but believe that even a few more years of McCartney and Harrison song-filled albums could have left us with even greater treasures.   Alas it was not to be.

Yet the years haven't really been wasted

What 60s Brit Pop group had a 1970 hit with the following opening line?

"Oh Woman get your head out of curlers.  Time to get your butt out of bed"



Well of course that would be the recently Graham Nash-less Hollies with there little ode to all things redneck, "Gasoline Alley Bred".   In fact it made it to number 14 in the UK charts, although it did not even dent the top 100 in the US.  It is absolutely one of my favorite 70s Hollies numbers.  In my estimation it is way better than "Long Cool Woman" because you actually get to hear the trademark three part Hollies harmonies in the chorus.   And furthermore it offered a great chance to hear Mr. Nash's replacement - Terry Sylvester - who trades the verse lines with Allan Clarke.  He has a fine strong voice and it fits in perfectly with the Hollies sound.  There is that snazzy little piano plinking that accentuates the end of each of the lines in the chorus.  And best of all, Tony Hicks serves up some really lovely guitar work, including the unforgettable opening picking routine.

This was released about the same time as their LP "Confessions of The Mind", known in the US as "Moving Finger" with a different running order.  Until this week I had not listened to the album in years.   Well ladies and gents, let me say that it is really a fine piece of work.  Studded with killer string and horn arrangements, a few rockers, and those Hollies harmonies, it is truly one of their finer moments in the long play variety.  Not quite up there in my estimation with "Romany" but certainly it all hangs together as a piece.

How much do I love this song?  When their voices swell in the lead up to the chorus each time around, I get goose bumps.  Furthermore there is a little coda with a high chorus of "gasoline... gasoline alley" that just hits me in the right spot.  To add to the charming pathos, the lyrics make it clear that the protagonist knows that he and the little woman are forever trapped by their roots.

"I know that we could have made it.  We had ideas in our heads.    And I wish somehow we could have saved it.  But we're Gasoline Alley bred."

Tell Me Again What You Told Me Before

It is always a good day when I discover a new "nugget" from the late 60's.   Being a fan of Dave Edmunds for many years it is a bit odd that I never investigated his first band, Love Sculpture. Today while browsing on YouTube I chanced across a tune from their second album Forms and Feelings.  In The Land of The Few starts off with what sounds like a clavichord - and within seconds I was hooked.  Then a Who-like verse kicks in, to be followed by a chorus that has to be heard.  Just phenomenal, almost like a 17th century baroque melody.  Also packed in is a jangly middle section and one of Mr. Edmunds white hot guitar solos.

I am verklempt.  How did I not know about this song before now?

But then she jumps off the edge, me holding on

My trip through the sonic wonderland of the Byrds comes to an end today with a single from very late in their career.  By the time of 1970's "Untitled" Roger McGuinn was trucking along as the only original member, still putting out new LPs every ten months or so.  The Byrds sound of old was long gone with the exception of this one amazing epic song.  Chestnut Mare was a left over from the aborted county rock musical Gene Tryp.  A modern day retelling of Peer Gynt, the few nuggets that survive are easily the best music the late period Byrds would produce.  Strangely enough this was a big hit single in the UK, but totally ignored in the US.   What with its odd lyrics referring to the wild mare as the object of an all consuming quest, it might have been just too odd for domestic consumption.  But McGuinn recaptured that classic Byrds sound, augmented by white lightning guitar runs by lead guitarist Clarence White and a middle section so lovely and antique that it could have come from a 16th century madrigal.   For me the goosebumps appear early and often, with the his voice climbing at the end of the chorus

and we'll be friends for life
she'll be just like a wife

Second Time Around

Even though I have been a Zombies fan since the 60s, I never really investigated the recorded legacy of their sequel, "Argent".   Sure, I heard their hit single "Hold Your Head Up", and I even bought one of their later LPs, but was put off by their prog-ishness as well as the operatic warbling of singer Russ Ballard.  Over the years several Zombies CD compilations have included songs that were written by the Rod Argent/Chris White team and recorded by a rag tag group including some of the ex-Zombies just after the breakup, about the time that "Time Of The Season" nearly topped the charts in the USA.  The quality of those songs - "Imagine The Swan", "Smokey Day" - along with the body of work left behind from the Zombies should have been a hint that there was still some good music lurking from Mr. Argent.

Well ladies and gentlemen, I missed the boat.  Recent posts by George Starostin on his wonderful Only Solitaire blog  indicate that the early Argent records are not so far removed from the Zombies brand of keyboard-driven pop. So I went to my local record store (I want to help keep them in business) and ordered a recently out-of-print CD containing their first two albums, "Argent" and "Ring of Hands".  The first is somewhat of a natural musical progression from "Time Of the Season", with more instrumental bite.  Keep in mind there is no vocalist who could replace Colin Blunstone, but I actually think the Rod Argent has a little bit of Colin's angel in his voice at times.   Rod, Russ, and bassist Jim Rodford were all able to carry a tune, and their combined harmonies are somewhat of a trademark of the Argent sound.  The second album begins to stray a bit further from familiar territory but still has a half dozen Argent/White tunes that contain breathtaking harmonies and melodies.

Here is a great example in "Like Honey", the opening track from the first Argent LP.  I love the way the chorus is just Rod's voice the first time through, then each succeeding iteration piles on more voices, and the harmonies get crunchier.  And in the lovely bridge section, Rod does his best Colin imitation, and it is quite good.

Gunpowder Treason Day

John Lennon's first solo LP - Plastic Ono Band - has been on my mind a lot.  I recently watched a documentary about the making of the album on Netflix.   Then caught a blog post over at Alex's place and felt compelled to write something about it here.

When the album was released in 1970 I was a sophomore in high school.  For a period of a few years I had detached from popular music and culture and so missed out on most of the hoopla relating to the break up of the Beatles and their individual ventures into solo work. But a few years later when I entered college, I suddenly and vociferously began to investigate the back catalog of the ex Beatles.  I made up for lost time and bought everything I could get my hands on.  In the span of a few weeks I was introduced to Ram, Imagine, All Things Must Pass, McCartney, as well as some lesser output such as George's odd Wonderwall Music.   Friends had warned me that John's early solo output was depressing and tuneless.   So I waited a bit before jumping in.   But once I did, my perception of John Lennon changed dramatically.

Stripped of the high varnish of a George Martin production, POB immediately took me out into left field.   Comprised only of John's raw singing, angry guitar work, pounding piano chords, and the amazing rhythm section of Ringo and Klaus Voorman, there was something so new, so different in these sounds that I scarcely recognized it as John Lennon.   Ringo and Klaus formed a nucleus around each song from which John was freed to emote and/or scorch.  This was a soul baring exercise from a man who excelled at hiding his true feelings behind layers of words and images.  Immediately upon first listen I was captivated.  To me the music is liberating and in most cases even uplifting.  Even when John is pulling the scabs off of wounds - as in "Mother" - the experience is both devastating and yet cleansing.  I understand why he wanted to sing about it.

Overall the quality of the POB documentary was excellent.  The interviews were pertinent, most of the interviewees had insights to offer, and the breakdown of the music into single tracks (vocal, drums, etc.) was enlightening.   My one complaint is that a few of the songs were glossed over.  This was most evident for "Remember", which was barely heard for a few seconds.   Totally undeserving of being ignored, as it has some of the most interesting music on the LP.  To this day I have not figured out the changing meters.  And for the longest time I never understood the last line - "Remember the 5th of November" - which is followed by the sound of an explosion.   But thanks for Google I now know that John was referring to an annual fireworks night in Britain which celebrates the failure of a group attempting to blow up King James I.  Such a typical John Lennon prank to add this reference.

Did you ever feel so bad, and the whole world is slightly mad.  Remember, remember today.  Don't feel sorry, how fate has gone.   Don't you worry 'bout what you done.

Knitting while blindfolded

I figured it was time I got around to posting about John Lennon, as Macca has received plenty of attention on my blog in the past. It is not that I like one more than the other. To the contrary, when John was "on" - and from '64-'67 he could do no wrong in my book - he was the superior songwriter of the two. There was often an introspective sadness to his middle period Beatles output, including the three little masterpieces that kick off Beatles For Sale. When he kicked off his solo career in 1970 however, his first successful shot out of the gate became for me one of the happiest, most uplifting, and downright kick ass radio hits of my youth. Instant Karma espouses a do-it-yourself personal rebuilding program. Perhaps he wrote the song to himself as an antidote for the awful debacle of the disintegration of the Beatles. But the happy vibe, the cosmic lyrics, and the twin pummels of the piano and the drumming created a sound that was never really duplicated by anyone.

I love this song in a way that verges on being unhealthy. Back in the day it got me through some tough times and I will forever be indebted to John for writing it.

Speaking of John and the Beatles, there is an amazing thread over at Hey Dullblog that started out as discussion of "favorite" unreleased Beatles tracks but went sidewise into a psychological discussion of John and his relationship with his former bandmates. Although I do not agree with everything written the discussion is lively and left me pondering for days.

Don't Leave Me Waiting Here

From the ashes of the Get Back recording sessions in 1969, who would have guessed that the most controversial reworking for the Let It Be LP would be Paul's simple yet emotionally powerful Long And Winding Road? Paul's legal case to end The Beatles listed Phil Spector's tinkering with this song as one of six reasons for the dissolution. On most counts I prefer the Naked versions of the Let It Be songs, but in this one case I have to disagree strongly with Mr. McCartney. Perhaps this is due to my memories of this song on the radio back in 1970, released just after the world learned that The Beatles were no more. The tugging of Richard Hewson's mid-song string arrangement just works for me on so many levels. When I listen to the untouched version I still hear the strings deep in my head. Paul's little ode to a broken heart begging to be let back in is perhaps his most touching late Beatle's moment, and one of the few times he was given free reign to bare his soul.

Across the wooded plain the wild geese have fled

There are some songs that seem to have been with me all my life. Although I only discovered the Pretty Things in the last couple of years, their best work really gets under my skin in a good way. She's A Lover from Parachute jumped out at me the first time I heard it. Of course it is a totally subjective issue and I cannot really put my finger on why this song gets to me as it does. But it is so worthy of trying so here goes...

Repeated listenings reveal a constantly changing texture of keyboards and guitars. And the song construction is quite unusual with an overall A-B-C-A-C form. The main verse and chorus share the same underlying chords but the melody and driving percussion become much harder in the chorus portion. There are two additional sections that interrupt mid song, with the second instrumental section returning as a coda at the end.

The roxichord opening is augmented by some mega awesome drumming and a syncopated bass line obbligato. Phil May's lead vocal soars above it all, sounding like a cross between Colin Blunstone and George Harrison (!). At this point (1970) he was the primary songwriter and vocalist and this song is one of his many gems.

She takes the moon and stars
To wear as her disguise.
Then catching cosmic rays
She uses them for eyes.

At 0:55 lovely harmony vocals open the first of the two middle sections.

There below the grey stone walls
Behind the hill she waits for you.
Painted on a field of corn
Strange messages she leaves for you.

Then at 1:19 a battle of two guitarists breaks out with a constant dizzing change of meters.

At 1:57 it flows back into the main theme with the obbligato taken up by a very fuzzy guitar.

She sheds her summer dress
Fearing it displeases you
Amid the white silk melting forest
Where she flew.

The final verse is puncuated by savage drumming, the instrumental section returns, then that final out of tune guitar chord, as if A Hard Day's Night had gone sour.

Excuse me while I listen to it again :)

When I Go Anywhere I See Love

There is nothing like a day trip to the Oregon coast to clear one's mind. A spectacular hike at Cape Lookout with temps above freezing and no rain made for a memorable day. Upon return I had a yearning to listen to some Brian Wilson tunes. Today's post was a real toss-up among several of the Beach Boy's lesser-known singles. I settled on This Whole World from 1970. The single did not chart and the LP it came from - Sunflower - was the lowest charting BB album up to that point at 151. By that time Brian was no longer performing but he still provided a number of songs on the group's records. Invariably they were the highlights of the album.

After a two bar introduction with chugging guitar and Carl's solo vocal, the song immediately moves into the main verse:

"Late at night I think about the love of this whole world. Lots of different people everywhere. And when I go anywhere I see love I see love I see love."

Carl's voice never sounded more soulful. And dig the tubular bell chiming amongst the doo-wop background vocals by the rest of the band (something along the lines of aaauuummm bop dibit). Then a new section begins:

"When girls get mad at boys and go
Many times they're just putting on a show
But when they leave you wait alone"

The ultimate Spector-ism - a glockenspiel - plays a counter melody and the band adds their gorgeous "oh-s". The first and second sections are repeated, then at 1:35 the boys go acappella, soaring off into the distance as the track ends before two minutes have passed.

What really casts a glow over me is Brian's incomparable harmonic progressions. I know a thing or two about music theory, and the modulations here are way beyond the grasp of almost any pop group then or now. Brian Wilson has an ear for sounds and harmonies like no other.

They Came From Birmingham

The Move were at least three bands rolled into one. The initial version to appear was a first class pop outfit, delivering two and a half minute hit singles with great regularity in the UK starting in 1967. The dandy Carl Wayne and slightly freaky Roy Wood were a killer pair of lead singers, and of course Roy had the secret formula to writing melodic hooks. And Trevor Burton, initially a rhythm guitarist then bass player, was a fine vocalist in his own right, and between the three of them their harmony work was right up their with their contemporaries. Last but not least, Bev Bevan was a force to be reckoned with on the drums.

The second incarnation grew organically from the first. Burton was replaced by Rick Price on bass, but the big change was an opening up of the musical scope. Roy was a fan of the new US West Coast sound, and all kinds of musical ideas from bands such as The Byrds and Love crept into their recordings in 1969. The musical forms were expanded and Roy began to experiment with the production. This culminated with their 1970 LP Shazam. There are only six tracks, but several of them are miniature rock symphonies with multi-part structures. And Roy's guitar playing comes front and center. There is no doubt he was one of the most gifted rock musicians of the flower power era. The first side was comprised of three original Wood tunes, the second side was all covers.

The last track is American folk singer Tom Paxton's The Last Thing On My Mind. It takes a cue from the Byrd's twelve string interpretations of Dylan then carries it about as far as the fabric will stretch.

It's a lesson too late for the learnin'
Made of sand, made of sand.
In the wink of an eye my soul is turnin'
In your hand, in your hand.

The yearning for a lost love in the powerful original version is surrounded by a haze of ringing guitar arpeggios and harmonics. Adding to the sonic mix are repeating quaverings in both the vocals and the guitar lines. Mr. Bevan's percussion work is sensitive yet powerful throughout. Somewhere around 3:34 Roy lets loose with a multi-tracked psychedelic guitar solo for the ages.

Shortly after the completion of Shazam Carl Wayne and Rick Price left The Move, and upon the entry of Jeff Lynne the third incarnation was off and running.

Lord she almost touched the sky

Three Kinks LPs to go, but today I am taking a break to clear my head for the final volley. So in the interim it brings me the utmost pleasure to blather on about my most favorite lost cause. Do you remember the Rolling Stone Magazine 1970 album of the year? Let It Be? Nope. All Things Must Pass? Nein. Fun House? If only. Led Zeppelin III? Just kidding. Parachute? (yes) Huh? Am I referring to The Pretty Things LP? Indeed. The only RS Mag album of the year ever not to earn the RIAA gold certification. And probably the only time those RS dipwads got it right. Dumped on Motown's Rare Earth label in the USA with no promotional effort whatsoever, it died a lonely underground death on the charts.

This album was 36 years old the first time I heard it. And literally within two or three listens it rose to somewhere in my top ten favorite LPs ever. If I could distill this album into a single concise description I would, but it escapes my effort. All I can say is that it is a cohesive unit, a soundscape that never fails to set a mood when I listen.

It was recorded at EMI's Abbey Road studios and produced by Norman Smith of early Beatles fame. And like the Beatles' album named for that studio, it has a deep rich sound. And it also borrows some of that album's novel structures - a couple of song suites, and a couple of heavy rockers that are years ahead of their time. Here are the opening tracks that set the stage for the side 1 story of the pitfalls of life in the city. The bottom drops out when the story line descends into a dark back alley in tracks 7 & 8 but that will be a post for another day.

1. Scene One - a prelude that sounds nothing like anything the Pretties had produced up to this point. "Stone spires rise high, lacerate warmer skies, iron laced populations, beneath molten fields"
   
2. The Good Mr. Square - the Pretties are not the Hollies or Beatles when it comes to harmony singing, but their effort here is top notch. Lovely! Mr. Square could very well be the social hermit from Waterloo Sunset. The linkage to the next track is seemless.
   
3. She Was Tall, She Was High - Ah that opening is so Beatle-worthy! More stellar harmonies.
   
4. In the Square - The beginning of another song suite, with a breathtaking acoustic guitar and harpsichord-like mellotron accompaniment.
   
5. The Letter - An upbeat melody hides the pain as the protaganist learns that his girlfriend has bailed to move out to the country
6. Rain - a gradually building rave-up that starts acoustic and ends in blue-hot heat.

And we have yet to reach the REALLY good parts :)

Little man's weak and big man's strong

Even when his is pissed off, Ray Davies can be hilarious. And he was very po'd when he wrote many of the songs on Lola Versus Powerman And The Moneygoround, Part One. Mostly ticked at big business, especially the record biz (more on that in a minute). Granted there are some warm and lovely songs here, including a beauty written by Dave - Strangers - and Ray's touching but subtle warning to his brother - A Long Way From Home. And of course there is Lola, which resurrected The Kinks career and proved without a doubt that Ray is the king of the 45 rpm single. Too bad that the glory days of top 40 radio were already on the wane.

The success of Ray's little ode to a transvestite resulted in his pithy recount of its effects in Top Of the Pops. His anger reaches even deeper in The Moneygoround, which includes his astute observation:

"Everyone take a little bit here and a little bit there
Do they all deserve money from a song that they've never heard
They don't know the tune and they don't know the words
But they don't give a damn"

The song could have been an ultimate downer if not for the cheery musical hall treatment that turns the anger into one of the funniest songs in the Kinks career.