Bobby Vee

Robert Veline was born in Fargo, North Dakota. That probably doesn't mean anything to you, but we Dakotans don't have a lot of artists we can brag about.

My musical memories go back a long way, but frankly Bobby Vee was my older sisters' teen heartthrob, not mine. Nevertheless, when I was a young child I was certainly exposed to his music, by way of 45 RPM records spun on what we called then a "record player". I of course didn't know the story of how the day after the music died, when Buddy Holly and his fellow winter dance party members were supposed to perform a show in Moorhead, Minnesota, but tragically perished in a frozen field in Iowa, fifteen-year-old Bobby stepped up to the mic after a call went out for local talent to fill the bill. I didn't know that this last-minute fill-in led to a recording contract with Liberty Records. I didn't know that a guy named Robert Zimmerman played sloppy piano in Vee's band and called himself Elston Gunn. Elston later changed his name to Bob Dylan. In 2013 Dylan announced during one of his sets, “I’ve played with everybody from Mick Jagger to Madonna, but the most beautiful person I’ve ever been on stage with is Bobby Vee."

I saw Bobby Vee once in concert. Well, "concert" is kind of a stretch. It was the nineteen seventies, and a local nightclub; a tiny basement bar, really, would book national acts, mostly those who were ten years or so past their charting days. I didn't have kids yet, so I could afford the luxury of catching a show on a Friday night. I saw the Vogues and others I honestly can't remember, but I do remember Bobby Vee. He was playing in a dank cellar, but his personality sparkled. One would swear he was actually having fun, and I think he was. I think he loved performing.

The late fifties/early sixties were a time in music I have trouble relating to. Everything was tightly controlled -- artists were told what songs they'd record and those songs were manufactured somewhere in a secret song factory by writers who knew how to connect the right dots to spew out a hit. The only distinction, to my mind, is that some artists were better than others. If Fabian (I think his name was) had recorded the same songs that Bobby Vee ultimately lent his voice to, teenage girls wouldn't have screamed quite so loud. Talent talks.

Some of Bobby's hits struck me as kind of lame; cheesy. Like:

In Bobby's defense, the background girl singers pretty much ruined the recording.

However, he had some GOOD recordings. Like this one:

And this one:

This: 

As a kid, I recoiled from this song, simply because of its title. I was steeped in Wednesday catechism, so anything referencing the devil was bad; evil. But this is a good song. Listen:

It may sound weird, but Bobby's phrasing is quintessential North Dakotan. It sounds like home. Every place no doubt has its own sound and one only recognizes it if they're from that place. Listening to him sing, I could pick Bobby Vee out as a Dakotan even if I didn't know he was one. Maybe that's the pull. I really like him because he was a home boy.

Bobby was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease in 2011. Alzheimer's is a son of a bitch -- it robs a person of their "self". It robs their families, too. My dad died from Alzheimer's. My dad was a unique soul. And then, just like that, Dad as we knew him was gone.

So, I have a couple of connections to Bobby Vee -- North Dakota and the sad descent of a cruel ruin.

Bobby Vee, nee Robert Veline, passed away on October 24, 2016. He was seventy-three years of age. I agree with Dylan: He was a beautiful person.

The Summer of Love Redux

It's rare that one particular year in music can produce so many classic songs. 1967 did that.

I never really gave 1967 a whole lotta thought, in the annals of popular music, but you know, one year tended to waft into another, especially in the sixties, if you get my drift. And by "get my drift", I mean, "trying to sound way hipper than I obviously was, since I was only twelve years old".

That said, I DO remember popular music from those years, especially given that the AM radio was playing all manner of popular music then; not just one tiny isolated genre. How else does one explain the intermingling of Bobby Gentry, the Rolling Stones, and, say, Frank and Nancy Sinatra? We heard it all, and we liked most of it.

I sat in the back seat of our Ford Galaxie, and the it didn't really matter which station the radio was tuned to. All of the stations played everything. And my dad didn't even make one derogatory comment about any of the songs. He actually didn't make any comment, and neither did my mom, so I was left, there in the back seat with my toddler siblings, to make up my own mind about the music.

So, here we are. At #26 on the charts. And here are the Seekers:



I vaguely remember walking along, alone, singing that song out loud. Why? Well, it's got everything a mere adolescent would enjoy...the melody was sing-songy. The words were easy to remember, because they tended to repeat a lot. Folk music was meant to be that way. It was perfect for folks to gather at the hootenanny, and, I guess, commune. Hootenanny. You never hear that word anymore. We should bring it back, just because it's fun to say.

#27 - I Was Made To Love Her - Stevie Wonder

A note: I try really hard to find actual performances of the songs from the period in which they were hits. This was the best quality video I could find, but you will note that Stevie is not actually singing in this video. A concept video, perhaps? Or just lazy editing? Don't know.

I also would be ignoring the obvious if I didn't mention that this video completely reminds me of Eddie Murphy doing Stevie Wonder.

Anyway, it's a better song that Georgy Girl, but taste is all relative, I guess.



Fine; so much for original performances. I have failed with this next song, and it really makes me mad, because this is one of my very favorite songs, and I don't even like the Association. To be honest, most of their songs grate on my nerves (especially "Windy" - see #5. And who names their kid "Windy"? I think that's just asking for trouble.)

But I love this song, and the only decent video I could find is from, I think, 1983, but still:



Number twenty-nine is, again, by the Supremes, who, if you ask me, were kind of chart hogs in 1967. And for the most part, their 1967 songs weren't even very good. But that's what happens once you make a name for yourself. Anybody will buy anything.

This is another song that makes me clench my teeth, but that's just me. I mean no disrespect. I like a lot of Supremes songs; just (especially) not this one.

Here they are (in silver lame this time - I appreciate that they at least change up their wardrobe colors) with Reflections:



1967 was the year that Frankie Valli ditched those damn Four Seasons for once and for all. The hell with those guys! I was getting tired of singing falsetto all the time anyway, said imaginary Frankie. That stuff is hard when you're my age!

This is one of those songs that one will always remember. I'm not sure why, but my guess is because of the Bacharach/David-type arrangement. Unfortunately, that also dates it. Takes one back to the days of Dionne Warwick asking how to get to San Jose. But that doesn't make it a bad song. It's actually a "not bad" song.



#31 is by Arthur Conley. Who? Yea, I know. I wonder if Arthur ever did anything besides this one. If not, fine by me. This is a good song. I could look him up, but I've got more songs to get to, and so little time.

Here is Sweet Soul Music:



Number thirty-two's video is obviously not a 1967 performance. I mean, you know Aaron Neville. You probably thought that all he did was country duets with Linda Ronstadt. Obviously not.

Another voice I love; Aaron Neville. Tell It Like It Is (obviously with help from that guy who was married to Cher, and from Bonnie and her guitar):



If you know the Monkees (and who doesn't?), you know that they never did actual performances. That's because they never actually played on their own songs (well, sure, maybe the maracas). Micky Dolenz will be the first to tell you that.

So, their songs are all "performance pieces", which is another term for "cheesy situation comedy skits" that all the cool kids (and the nerdy kids - raise your hands!) watched on Tuesday nights (was it Tuesdays?) on NBC.

So, here is A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You (#33 on the charts for 1967):



You probably don't know Bobby Vee, unless you're my age. Bobby Vee (nee Bobby Velline) was born in Fargo, North Dakota (my home state!), and he has a storied musical history. (See anything about the Day The Music Died, except of course the actual songs about that, which I hate, hate, hate).

I'm not going to recount Bobby Vee's career here, but I will say, it's nice nowadays that artists are allowed to use their real names, because "Vee" is stupid.

But Robert Velline had some really nice songs. No, not Rubber Ball, but others. I saw him once in person; some kind of bar gig; and he was a really good, professional entertainer. Which I'm sure he still is, by the way.

Number thirty-four on the 1967 charts is Come Back When You Grow Up (and no, there is no video ~ fine. Whatever.)



I hate to end this post on a down note, but I must be true to the charts.

Let me preface this video by saying I really hate those "acting" songs. You know, the overly dramatic renditions; the bad Laurence Olivier auditions. They remind me of smoking jackets and cigarette holders and those Laura Petrie flip hairdo's.

I like "retro" as much as the next person, but this is just a little too strange for even me.

This song has no redeeming virtues, but somebody must have liked it. A lot of people, apparently. Even more than Johnny Rivers and the Turtles? It must have been the geezer vote.

So, rock on (ha), I say, Vikki Carr. I bet Ed Sullivan just loved you. He didn't "get" the Beatles, but he got this.



Amazingly, we are through number thirty-five, and we still haven't gotten to some of my favorite songs from 1967. And the ones that are left are way more memorable than some of these others.

It was quite a year, and you'll be surprised at what rounds out the top fifty from the summer of love.

Solo Rock & Roll Artists Of The '60's

Solo artists in the '60's ran the gamut from pop to schlock to rock to blues rock to psychedelia to country rock and probably a bunch of genres I'm forgetting.

Some classic artists got their start in the '60's. Then, of course, there were the one-hit wonders.

So, let's take a look, shall we?



JOHNNY RIVERS - MOUNTAIN OF LOVE

Who in their right mind wouldn't love Johnny Rivers? Johnny is one of my all-time favorite artists. I saw him in concert a few years back ~ he was great! He's more into the blues now, which is not surprising, because most of his hit songs did have a blues flavor to them. Johnny had many, many hit songs, a lot of them recorded at the Whisky a Go Go. Isn't that a great name? I mean, in a goofy kind of way. Whisky a GO GO. Ha! "Where are you going tonight?" "I'm going to the GO GO". But I digress. A couple of points regarding this video ~ Johnny is lip-syncing the song, which is fine. It was a bit awkward, however, when he gazed off toward the imaginary harmonica player. I also was struck by Johnny's lovely bouffant hairdo.


NEIL DIAMOND - SOLITARY MAN

Neil Diamond is another of those wildly underrated artists. Just listen to his greatest hits and you will become a fan, if you aren't one already. I won't even begin to enumerate the hit songs that Neil has had, nor the hit songs that he's written for other artists, but suffice it to say, he BELONGS in the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, good grief! I'm wondering if Jan Wenner has some sort of personal vendetta against Neil or something. But anyway, regarding this video ~ Are those stars in the background? Is he floating in space? I don't get it. Maybe he's sitting in front of a Christmas bush. Whatever. At least he has completely hypnotized the audience, except for that one guy who's leaning on his hand. I think it's probably a young Jan Wenner.



ROY HEAD - TREAT HER RIGHT

For all you American Idol fans, if you remember Sundance Head from last season, THIS is his dad. This was Roy's only hit song, as far as I know, but who can forget how limber he was? I mean, one minute he's lying on the floor, the next minute he's UP! And doing the splits! Accompanied by the girls from the Swiss Miss Hot Cocoa package, as well as a group of escaped convicts as his backup band. Who could ask for more?



BILLY JOE ROYAL - DOWN IN THE BOONDOCKS

As far as I know, this is the only song that has the word "boondocks" in its title. Boondocks is not a word one hears much these days (or ever), but Joe South found a way to make it work. In everyday conversation, you don't hear: "Where does that guy live?" "Oh, down in the boondocks". Is he a hermit? Is he Jed Clampett? He does say, "One fine day I'll find a way to move from this old shack", so I'm thinking he is Jed Clampett. But if so, where'd he get the suit and tie? From the general store? And where'd he learn that fancy dancing he's doing? There's a lot of unanswered questions here.

Regardless, Billy Joe is now on tour with this guy:


BJ THOMAS - THE EYES OF A NEW YORK WOMAN

Maybe it's just me, but BJ always looked a bit befuddled on stage, as if he was wondering, "What the heck am I doing here? I was trying to be a COUNTRY singer." Well, BJ has a really good voice, but it was a bit of an insult to be forced to sing in front of a bunch of plastic rings from six-packs of soda. And I kept worrying he was going to fall off that oversized ottoman he was standing on. And was that a lime green suit? Kinda matches his lime green skin color (I'm hoping this was just a problem with the video transfer!) BJ didn't have what we'd call an overpowering stage presence. I guess we know who the more dynamic fancy-dancer will be on this tour.


JODY MILLER - HOME OF THE BRAVE

I'd forgotten about Jody Miller until I stumbled upon this video on YouTube. Jody had a few hits in the sixties, and then she went on to have a career in country music. This song actually was a fairly big hit for Jody. I must say, though, the dancing here really seems inappropriate, especially the beatnik girl doing the "suspended jerk". That's why it's really hard to dance the jerk to a slow song. Too many pauses. As far as what Jody is singing about, from what I can tell, this kid is going to school in "funny clothes" ~ I don't know if she means funny literally ~ as in, is he dressing like a clown? Well, no wonder the kids are beating him up. And then she says he's "a little bit different". Well, I guess! How many kids did you know who came to school in ruffled polka-dot jumpsuits and oversized shoes? And he also "doesn't wear his hair" like the rest of the kids. Okay, so now he's got that Bozo hair to go along with his "funny clothes". Man, I bet that kid had TONS of friends. And if Jody is the mother in this story, then she should have sat her boy down and explained the rules of civilized society to him, rather than running off to Hollywood and singing a song about it. That's probably why he was so messed up to begin with.


SCOTT MCKENZIE - SAN FRANCISCO

I've always loved this song. I think Scott has such a beautiful voice. Now, to the subject matter at hand ~ Well, I'll admit, I was a bit too young to fully appreciate this whole counterculture Haight Ashbury thing, but from what I can tell, there was a bunch of upper middle class kids who decided to run off from their oppressive world of pink princess telephones and country club dances, and decided that ~ here's what they'd do! They'd pick flowers! They'd don Jesus robes and have "be-ins" in the park. Hey, it beats working in Daddy's office! And they did have a "new explanation". I sometimes wonder what became of all these kids in later life. Are they still wandering the streets of San Francisco, homeless and disillusioned and slightly crazy? I think not. I think they now have corporate jobs and they've made big bucks, and they don't talk much about those early days, except to fellow "travelers". And they still vote Democrat, because it's the party of the "oppressed"....


JACKIE DE SHANNON - WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW

Ah yes, it's a timeless sentiment. What the world needs now is love, sweet love. Actually, what the world needs now is MONEY. It needs MONEY bad. At least I do. The hell with love. Have you been keeping up with the economy lately?? Love is all well and good, but I could use some greenbacks. Sure, easy for Jackie to flounce around in her princess dress with her Barbie hair. I bet it cost her a pretty penny for that bleach job and to get her hair styled in that flip. And princess dresses don't come cheap. And don't even get me started on Bacharach/David. They've got money, believe me. They can afford to write about love. And they vote straight Democratic ticket, because it's the party of the "oppressed".



MILLIE SMALL - MY BOY LOLLIPOP

Poor Millie Small. She had one major hit, but she was never heard from again. But HERE'S a song that one can get behind. It doesn't really say anything, and it's over before you know it. The perfect pop song. I actually think Millie retired from performing because she developed agoraphobia from those stupid groupies following her TOO CLOSE in this performance. Back off, groupies! Give Millie Small some space!


DONOVAN - MELLOW YELLOW

Well, here's those corporate executives, now retired; slapping on their headbands, firing up a doobie, and spending their Friday night at a Donovan concert! Plus, purple and yellow ARE the colors of the sixties generation! Where is Donovan today, you ask? I think he's probably shuffling out to his garden in his bathrobe, slightly demented, muttering something about "saffron". All good things must come to an end.


And now for something COMPLETELY different:


NEIL SEDAKA - BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO

"Can you sing that one for us, Neil?"
"Oh man, and here I am, wearing my JC Penney undershirt! But OKAY, I'll give it a go!"
This song was from a much simpler time (as opposed to the "Donovan Time"). The only thing they were smoking back then was Chesterfield Non-Filtered. But boy, didn't Neil have jarringly white teeth?


BOBBY VEE - THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES

Okay, Bobby is from Fargo, North Dakota, so I'm going to withhold any snarky comments about this video. And thankfully, it does end up better than it started. And Bobby is a family man; he's got kids who have followed in his footsteps, so this is just make-believe, people! Yet, I can't help but wonder how the producers sold this idea to Bobby. Because in hindsight, it really seems like a completely BAD concept.


BOBBY GENTRY - ODE TO BILLY JOE

Okay, frankly, after all these years, I'm SICK of trying to figure out what he was throwing off the bridge. What was he throwing off the bridge, DAMMIT? You don't even know, do you? You just made this up, and now here we are, all these years later, trying to solve a puzzle that has no answer. How diabolical, Bobby. The year was 1967. That's 41 years ago, and I still don't know what he was throwing off the bridge. Well, guess what? After all this time, I don't even CARE anymore. How's that?


EDDIE COCHRAN - SUMMERTIME BLUES

Ha ha! This wasn't even from the sixties! Psych! I just snuck this one in here because it's a great song, and I forgot to include it in my previous posts. But technically, since Eddie Cochran was a SOLO artist, it fits here. And this is one of the best rock and roll songs of all time, so there you go.

I always like to end my posts on an UP note.