Showing posts with label the beach boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the beach boys. Show all posts

Friday, November 10, 2023

80's Radio

 

I certainly wasn't a kid in the eighties, but radio made me feel like one. I'd left country at the right time and discovered rock at the exact right time. My kids were still pre-teens, meaning they'd still agree to go places with me ~ drives to the mall, maybe a jaunt to pick up a pizza. And all the while our companion was rock radio. I foisted my musical tastes on them, swirling up the radio volume anytime a song I really liked kicked off. When "We Are The World" became a big radio hit, I patiently explained to them which singer was singing which part. My oldest really glommed onto Corey Hart's "Sunglasses At Night", a song I hated ("so I can...so I can..."), but I can never hear that song today without being reminded of that seven-year-old kid. On one of our yearly sojourns to South Dakota's Black Hills, Van Halen's "Jump" was the hot hit of the day. That organ-sounding guitar solo blasted out of the car radio's speakers approximately every seven minutes, to the point where I wasn't sure if I was experiencing car sickness or David Lee Roth-sickness. But my kids liked the song.

The eighties were the era of one-hit-band wonders, mostly British it seemed, but those tracks remain some of my favorite eighties songs to this day. The Dream Academy with "Life In A Northern Town", The Fine Young Cannibals' "She Drives Me Crazy". And who could forget (or ever would be allowed to forget) Rick Astley?

 

Music snobs tend to denigrate eighties music, but I bet if they got a gander at my Spotify playlist they'd soon be dancing around their living rooms, or if they were male, at least tapping their foot. One thing about eighties music, it was joyous, not morose ~ not navel-contemplation. All that introspection is overrated. I like songs like this:

 





Yes, I am country at heart, but I wouldn't give up my eighties rock for the world. It speaks to me in ways that little other does.

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Kids

 (I was the one with crooked bangs on the lower right. K is behind me.)

I didn't know that life was stark when I was a kid. I never felt poor ~ my mom made sure I had all the same things that kids in my classroom had. The early sixties weren't the age of conspicuous consumption. Sure, the clothes she picked out for me must have been clearance items, because they were so ugly. Either that, or Mom had really bad taste. But I never cared about clothes anyway.

We lived in an old farmhouse that was eighty years old (that would be about one hundred and forty years old now, if it's still standing.) I liked it. It had a hard wooden winding staircase leading up to the second floor and there was a cross-hatched vent about midway down that I could peek through and see everything happening in our living room (not that anything was happening). It had a scary unfinished basement that is a prerequisite for kids ~ scary things are de rigueur. How else would we ever learn to navigate life if it weren't for being scared so much that our breath catches in our chest?

I was lousy at making friends. Granted, living in the country precluded sleepovers. I never even had a best friend until I was in the fourth grade, and I met her on a walking bridge on the way to Wednesday catechism. My only real friend 'til then was my cousin K. K's dad was my dad's much younger brother, and Uncle A worshiped my dad (who wouldn't?), so our families spent an inordinate amount of time together. It was one of those rare perfect storms in which my mom and her mom actually liked one another. You know how couple friendships are ~ either the women are best pals and one guy learns to tolerate the other, or through family, the married pairs are thrown together and everybody decides to make the best of it. K's mom brought out the best in Mom ~ taught her to loosen up; not be such a prickly thorn.

K was one year older than me, which was acceptable in the annals of little-kid approval. From about age five, we tagged along together, creating tiny-girl mayhem.

She was one of those flawless beings ~ golden-haired and sky-blue-eyed ~ who couldn't do anything wrong even if the notion had flitted like a fat bumblebee into her mind. I, on the other hand, was a mess of dense red hair with a tangled desire to create something, but no earthly idea how to do it.

My mom actually preferred K to me. It didn't hurt my feelings ~ much. I would prefer K to me. In later years, Mom actually took vacations with her. Nevertheless, my cousin and I bonded over Ricky Nelson songs, like this:


Our eight-year-old paths converged. 

My dad got it into his head that I should take accordion lessons (I was apparently the experimental kid in the family), and thus, K and her brother took lessons, too. Our music teacher thought it would be neat to form a little trio with the three of us. (Of course, K played her accordion perfectly while I was admonished for dragging my basses). 

Somehow we were coerced into buying matching bandolero outfits, with Cordobes hats, white-fringed black felt skirts, and plastic cowboy boots. We may have even had neckerchiefs. Our mothers paraded us out to local nursing homes to ply our trade. By then I had been relegated to snapping brushes against a snare drum (because my accordion skills were so lacking). K's brother claimed the accordion spot and K strummed a guitar. We were the complete package. Our big number was "Bye Bye Love", on which I somehow snagged the solo on the opening verse. We eventually harvested more money than any eight-and-nine-year-olds could dream of reaping ~ through drunken tips ~ not from nursing home residents! (see below).

K and I (and her big brother) actually ended up living together for half a year. Our bachelor uncle had purchased a triple-threat establishment in a small town that featured a bar, a restaurant and a service station; and he sorely needed a cook. So my mom and K's mom rotated weeks of short-order hash-slinging for extra seed money; and thus it only made sense to move us kids there permanently and enroll us in the local parochial school. We were ensconced in Uncle Howard's attached apartment and plied our trade as traveling minstrels, holed up in the service station lobby as drunks exiting the bar threw quarters and dollar bills at us. The three of us purchased glass piggy banks at the local mercantile and stuffed those hogs with loose cash and coin. K and I periodically raided our stash and bought colorful beaded necklaces and miscellaneous scraps at the five-and-dime.

Our first day at Catholic school, K, naturally, was a big hit; while I wanted to crawl inside a culvert. I think I eventually made one friendship ~ a girl who was as mousy as I. K was effervescent. Complete strangers would amass at her feet. She instantly became the most popular girl in her fifth-grade class. At home, she and I were best buds, but out in the real world K had many universes to command, and she precisely ignored me. I didn't have enough friends that I could afford to diss any of them. K was a princess in any company.

Our life in Uncle Howard's apartment was a cornucopia of new rock and roll sounds and images on the black and white TV. There was a syndicated program called The Lloyd Thaxton Show that was the poor itinerant's alternative to Bandstand, but, holy cow, was it great!

Here is what our eyeballs witnessed on our cathode-ray tube:










I guess you had to be there:


Albeit not rock and roll, this guy was everywhere in 1964:


Yep, The Beatles didn't appear on Lloyd Thaxton's show in '64. I guess Lloyd just didn't pay enough. Not that we didn't know who The Beatles were. We had to appease ourselves with our pocket-friendly transistor radios to hear the most influential band of all time.

The last time I saw K, I was eighteen and not quite moved out of my house, and she and some friends came to visit my mom. Not me. My mom.

But one can't sweep away what once was. K was a huge part of my life; at least a very momentous piece of it. 

I bet she's still out there, sweeping strangers off their feet.














Friday, October 2, 2015

Why Do We Like What We Like?

It might have started in the womb. Maybe it's life experience. I'm skeptical.

Why do we like the kind of music we like?

I think it's just a click - click on, click off - but mostly on. Our brain synapses zzzt on something and they we are - hooked.

I'm a rather eclectic music lover. I love lots of things, and I don't know why. I love big bands, and I surely wasn't around during their heyday. I love sixties rock because, yea, I was around then. I'm not completely in love with sixties rock, though; maybe because it's too familiar. I used to love it, but now I say I love it because - well, that's what I'm supposed to say.

But the topic of why we pick what we pick fascinates me. I should have been some kind of scientist, or at least a sociologist, but I have no discipline or ambition. Really, I have neither. I just like to "wonder" about things.

I like to play the game (sometimes) that if I was suddenly catapulted onto a stage with a live band, what songs would I sing? Well, first of all, as a known failed singer, I would gravitate toward something that was within my vocal range. I would also lean on the songs that are waaaay familiar - you know, like something by Merle Haggard, or any three-chord song from the sixth decade of country music - again because I am lazy and insecure.

But say my voice could magically wrap around any song.

I believe I would choose something like this:


Or:


I'm a sucker for those classic songs - maybe I'm just old, or maybe my taste has improved with age. When I was a kid and Sinatra would flick onto the TV screen, I would stomp away. My dad wasn't a Sinatra fan, either, so I took my cues from him. One has to become old before they appreciate Sinatra, maybe. But I watched this movie - "The Joker Is Wild" - on my portable black and white TV and I folded that memory inside my skull - it was a sad, melodramatic movie, trust me - but kids gravitate toward melodramatic things - emotions that are "out there" - because our brains aren't fully formed and we have to be hit over the head with stuff before it registers.

On the flip side, maybe I would sing songs like this:


Because that would just be fun.

I suppose I could channel Mike Love, because this is a song that I will fold into my heart forever. I even, at ten years old, wrote alternative lyrics for this song, because girls couldn't sing about "California Girls". So I titled mine, "English Boys" (I was heavily into the Beatles then,)


But honestly, I'd probably just do this one:


And no, he doesn't say "pickles in my head", but I'd probably sing that, just for fun. And everybody would get it. Because that's what everyone hears.

Yea, Dwight. I mean, if I'm going to spend my teeny vocals on one song, this would be the one.

But I'm open to requests.










Saturday, December 24, 2011

The Reason I Don't Listen To Christmas Songs


And so I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said
Many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you


Christmas songs make me weepy.

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays
And no matter how far away you roam
For the holidays
You can't beat home sweet home


I won't be home for Christmas. There is no home.

I'm dreaming tonight
Of a place I love
Even more than I usually do
And although I know
It's a long road back
I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas


I always find myself clearing my throat when listening to these songs. That's because I want to hide the fact that I'm choking up.

My best friend, who died, was a singer in a band. And she recorded a song called, "An Old Christmas Card". If I really want to feel like crap, I'll slap that one on.

Yup, just did, and I do.

See, this is why I don't think about these things.

Who wants to become all maudlin, and start ripping Kleenex out of the box, as punishment for listening to some stupid songs?

Not me.

I don't need the drama.

That's why I like Christmas songs like these. They're not all sentimental and sappy. Meaning, they don't make me cry.



Or one like this. It's kitschy and stupid. It's supposed to be fun; not make me sob uncontrollably.



And I always love how the Beach Boys can turn any song into a "Beach Boys" song; even one about Christmas. This could be Little Deuce Coupe, except for the lyrics (I actually think it is).



And, of course, for the country crowd (me), how about this:



So, why do I do it? Put myself through this kind of punishment; albeit one day out of the year?

I think maybe it's because I really want to remember those times, and thus, I'm willing to take the horrible with the good.

I miss my mom and dad. And I miss Alice, or at least what Alice was to me back then.

I miss being with my brothers and sisters at Christmas time.

I miss the time when Christmas had meaning.

Maybe that's why I've become more spiritual these last couple of years. The Christmas songs I like best now are the spiritual ones. The tried and the true. I guess there's a reason they've been hanging around for a few centuries.

I frankly always do this to myself on Christmas Eve. I have to purge it out of my system. Allow myself ONE DAY to feel the feelings that I brush aside the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year.

And then I can move on. At least for another year.

And I know everyone has their favorite Christmas song. But I'm going to share mine:

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thankfulness


Here it is, the morn of Thanksgiving, and I feel like I should write something about thankfulness.

I'll admit, I've not been in a very thankful mood lately, so it's a bit difficult to wrap my mind around the concept, but I'll give it a whirl.

I think, when the big things go wrong, one has to remember the little things.

Here are some little things, in no particular order:

A hot cup of coffee in the morning.


Slapping on a CD of old, familiar tunes (today, I like this one):



Watching a Modern Family episode, and always welling up at the end.


Waking up to see my dog stretched out on her back in the middle of the night, paws up in the air, serene. (I don't actually have a photo of this!)






Expressing creativity with $0.00.



My cat curled up next to me on the bed.


Talking to God.


Finding a book that's so good, you think about it even when you're not reading it. I recommend this one:


A good friend. (That comes before all that other stuff; just so you know!)


Last, but MOST, my husband.


(He doesn't like the publicity.)

I don't really know what to write about my husband that wouldn't sound cliche and superficial.

I guess what I would say is, he's my best friend (really), and he takes care of me. And I take care of him. And he's really smart and really creative. And life hasn't exactly been fair to him, but I was just going to go with the "thankful" stuff today, so disregard that last part. (Besides, who said life was fair?)

So, thankfulness isn't really that difficult after all.

There is a definite dearth of good Thanksgiving songs. I'm not really interested in hearing about a turkey, if you know what I mean. So, every year, I come back to this one.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Songs That Just Never Go Away


I was sitting in the dentist chair yesterday afternoon, and those places are always tuned to the most innocuous radio stations, since sitting in the dentist chair is stressful enough; one does not need to be subjected to aggravating music, besides.

So, they've got the oldies station blaring away, which I like. And the hygienest's got that cavitron buzzing, and I'm just thinking, will this be over soon?

When what, pray tell, comes on the radio, but this:



Watching Van's discomfort while lip-synching this song is much like the discomfort I feel whenever I hear this song.

Granted, this was a good song at one time. But you know what they say about familiarity breeding contempt? Well, there you go.

It's funny how with some songs, one could hear them a million times and still enjoy them. Other songs just don't wear that well.

By way of contrast, I could hear this (awkwardly lip-synched) song over and over and over, and I would still get a little thrill every time:



So, what is it? The melody? I say yes. Some melodies are "decent"; some are timeless.

This proves my oft-repeated opinion that melodies are what counts.

Because, frankly, the subject manner of both "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Don't Worry, Baby" are basically the same. Just little bits of fluff.

Thus, my little songwriting lesson of the day, because there really should be a point to this post, other than just posting videos of songs that I'm really sick of (although that does make me feel better).

So, seeing as how I'm old, and I remember stuff from back in the gramophone days (seriously, I don't), these are some of the songs that, in my opinion, just got overplayed ad nauseum on the radio, back when people used to listen to the radio. And if I hear these songs today, after lo these many years, I'm still sick to death of them.



In this particular performance, the tempo is sped up from that on the record, which is a good thing, because the song gets over sooner.

Even "moderned up", while the performance is nice, the song is still sickening. Sorry, Joe South.



Remember this? 1968? Most played to death song of the year. I like Tom T. Hall; he wrote a lot of good songs, but....



Okay, yea, Johnny Cash is a legend and all that. I'll grant you that, but this song isn't even that good! And it's so repetitive. If you overlook the fact that you're viewing a performance by one of country music's icons, you will admit that this song is just tiresome:



Even as a non-songwriter in 1972, I realized how bad these lyrics were. And I was sort of offended by the inanity. But the radio station just kept playing it!



Let's see if I've got this right: "Skippity doo-dah, thank you, Lord, for makin' him for me"......"I'll fix your lunch if you fix mine".....

No offense, Donna Fargo. I understand you're a really nice person. But back then, I was cleaning motel rooms for spending money, carrying my portable radio with me, and I had to keep hearing this whole skippity doo-dah nonsense, and it made me irate. It was bad enough just cleaning those rooms. I was seventeen, it was hot, and I just wanted to be lying out by the pool, and not getting up at 7:00 a.m. every day in June to clean toilets.

Fast forward to the eighties (all decades should be well represented). I was searching for this video, and I found some comments to the effect of, "thanks so much for the memories". Well, yea, I have memories of this song, too. Memories of every freakin' time I got in the car to drive somewhere, I had to be subjected to this song. "Uh-huh":



I've mentioned this song before, but it just has to be included here. Back in the sixties (I'm told), there was a big counter-culture drug thing going on. And it makes sense when one listens to this song. I'm imagining Hoyt Axton scribbling these lines on a napkin, and somebody saying, "that's heavy, man", when in reality, it's obviously complete nonsense.

Unfortunately for us (the listeners), and fortunately for Hoyt Axton, this song achieved heavy rotation on the rock stations. But anytime I hear the words, "Jeremiah was a bullfrog", I just have to punch that button to change the channel.



So, there you have it. Some of my least favorite, albeit, overplayed songs of the millennium.

I didn't include my all-time least favorite song, because, thankfully, it hasn't really been overplayed. But readers of my blog know what that is.

I would be interested in knowing what your most overplayed song is. Feel free to leave me a comment and let me know.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Rock & Roll Of The Sixties - The Groups

There were so many groups in the sixties who had hit records, to try to include them all would be a hopeless task. Since I've already devoted an entire topic to the British Invasion, this post will focus (mainly) on American groups. I thought about ways that I could kind of "group" these groups together in some sort of logical fashion, but I'm not seeing any obvious classifications here, so I thought I would just start with the most famous group:

THE BEACH BOYS - LITTLE DEUCE COUPE


Well, here is Mike Looove, introducing the rest of the band. And not to be nitpicky, but Carl "Lead Guitar" Wilson is actually just playing rhythm guitar here. It's a minor point, but don't call him "Lead Guitar Wilson" if he's not going to play lead guitar. I really love the Beach Boys, and this performance shows a still-lucid Brian. Plus, their matching outfits are so sweet. But isn't Mike Looove sort of a goofy doofus? I mean, c'mon. Does he really need to act out the song?

P.S. What is a "deuce coupe" anyway? I know that a "coupe" is a car, but I don't know about the "deuce" part. Doesn't deuce mean "two"? So it's a "little two car"? That makes no sense. But I'm not mechanical at all.

P.P.S. When I first heard this song, I thought they were saying, "She's my little do scoop". Of course, that was nonsensical, but it sounded cute. At my young age, I just thought that you could string words together, as long as they sounded good, and in that way, you could make a song. Sort of like how I write songs today.


MITCH RYDER & THE DETROIT WHEELS - JENNY TAKE A RIDE

Here's Mitch and his Wheels, performing on a show called, "Swingin' Time". I've never heard of this show. I guess it never cracked the Nielson Top Ten. Probably a local channel, by the looks of the dingy sheet they hung up as a backdrop. I'm guessing this group was from Detroit....ha ha...I'm just kidding. I'm not really that stupid.......or am I?? Mitch was sort of the king of medleys. He always combined two songs into one. Here he's doing CC Rider and Jenny Take A Ride. But it's still catchy! When he gets to the "Jenny Jenny Jenny" part, you can't help but dance in your chair. But I still like "Devil With The Blue Dress" the best.


THE LOVIN' SPOONFUL - DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC

Hey, John Sebastian! Welcome back! Isn't this just an infectious performance? I love the enthusiastic lead guitar player. I had to look him up ~ his name is Zal Yanovsky. Unfortunately, he apparently passed away in 2002. That's sad. I'm almost sorry I looked him up now. But he sure enjoyed what he was doing. I really love this video. And, on a side note ~ an autoharp, John! That's a unique choice!


THE BEE GEES - MASSACHUSETTS

I know. Like you, when I think of the Bee Gees, I picture John Travolta walking down the street, carrying a can of paint. But the Bee Gees had a thriving career long before that movie. I was surprised to find that Barry isn't singing the lead on this one. I'd thought he sang lead on all their songs. But this one is done by Robin. It's a very pretty song. So, see? They didn't just do disco. ("ha ha ha ha - stayin' aliiiiive" - sorry, couldn't resist.)


THE BEAU BRUMMELS - LAUGH LAUGH

The Brummels are here, performing on Shindig (at last! A show I've actually heard of!) One might think with a name like Beau Brummels, that these guys were British. Alas! They were from San Francisco. But you can't blame them for trying to capitalize on the British Invasion. And I didn't even know that Peter Tork played the drums. (No, I know that's not Peter Tork). Anyway, the lead singer played a mean tambourine. He really played it with feeling. Good job, Brummel!

And, at the end of this performance, we almost caught a glimpse of this group, getting ready to perform:

THE MAMAS & THE PAPAS - CALIFORNIA DREAMIN'

The Mamas & The Papas are here performing on a show called, "Shivaree". Okay, this is another show I've never heard of. Was this on a cable access channel or something? I think it came on right after "Swingin' Time". The M&P had two great things going for them: Denny and Cass. Two great singers. Well, okay, John wrote the songs, so that's three good things. As for Michelle? Well, she could clap her hands in time to the music. I heard that they turned off her mic during performances. Okay, I didn't actually hear that. I just made it up. But I bet it's true.


GARY PUCKETT & THE UNION GAP - YOUNG GIRL

What I'd like to know is, if they are the "union" gap, why are they wearing Confederate uniforms? Hmmm? I know that's a minor point, but it's something that I think has been overlooked. Anyway, this group has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. Let's face it, it wasn't cool to admit that you liked this group back in 1967. But Gary is from Hibbing, Minnesota. There was another guy from Hibbing.....who was that again? Somehow I can't see the two of them getting together for a jam session, though. Can you? I just this week got an autographed picture of Gary, and he blessed me. So, he's a cool guy. It's always nice to be blessed. So, bless you, Gary Puckett.


THE BUCKINGHAMS - KIND OF A DRAG

This hit song, from 1967, is memorable for the reason that the background singers sang a much longer part than the lead guy sang. I never knew what they were singing, and I never will, but all I know is, the lead guy sang, "listen", and then the background singers sang something that went on for about five minutes before the lead guy came back and sang, "to what I've gotta say", and then they sang something again for another five minutes. Unusual, to say the least. And you gotta feel sorry for the drummer here. All he had was a snare and a bass. Not even a cymbal. I bet he had to go find a couple of twigs in the park to use as drumsticks. And they didn't have "The Buckinghams" printed on the bass drum. I guess they were waiting to see if this whole band thing was going to work out.


THE SIR DOUGLAS QUINTET - SHE'S ABOUT A MOVER

Well, lo and behold. "Sir Douglas" wasn't even a "sir". He was just a guy named Doug from Texas. That's blasphemy. Don't you have to have that title bestowed upon you by the queen? Doesn't she have to hit you with her scepter and stuff? I'll admit, I'm not real familiar with the whole British royalty bit, but I'm thinking that is the case. And who were the other guys in the band? A duke, an earl, a viscount, and a viceroy? (Okay, I made up "viceroy", because I couldn't think of any other British monikers) And, believe me, they don't play the maracas in Buckingham Palace. So, that's a dead giveaway.


THE TURTLES - ELENORE

The Turtles. Flo & Eddie. (I actually don't know which is which.). I love the Turtles. They were very clever, and they wrote catchy tunes. And doesn't Flo (or Eddie?) look just like Chris Sligh from last season's American Idol? By the looks of the guys in the band, I bet they were in the chess club in high school. Nowadays, they'd work in the IT industry. But they wrote great lines, such as "you're my pride and joy, et cetera". What a heartfelt sentiment.



PAUL REVERE & THE RAIDERS - KICKS

Whereas Gary Puckett and his Union Gap were kind of stuck in the Civil War era, here's a group that goes back even further! To the Revolutionary War! Nice jodhpurs! Sometimes they even wore their 1770's hats, but unfortunately, not in this video. I was never a big fan of the Raiders' music, but that didn't stop me from plastering Mark Lindsay's pictures all over my bedroom wall at age 12. A couple of notes regarding this video: It's nice that they got both Amy Winehouse and Goldie Hawn to be background dancers. And, if you look closely, that is a much-embarrassed Freddy Weller ("Games People Play") singing backup.



THE GRASS ROOTS - LET'S LIVE FOR TODAY

Introduced by Jimmy Durante (who had no idea who these guys were), here are the Grass Roots with their 1966 hit, "Let's Live For Today". Wikipedia says it was from 1967, but Wikipedia is WRONG. I distinctly remember when this song was a hit. I had the single. The Grass Roots had a lot of hits, but this is my favorite. And don't you love their saucy neckerchiefs? You do have to feel kind of sorry for the drummer, dressed in a suit and tie, though. "Oh, man! You guys said you were going to dress up!"


BUFFALO SPRINGFIELD - FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH



This song, from 1967!! (as annoyingly splashed on the screen), is the soundtrack for EVERY documentary you will ever see on PBS regarding the '60's counterculture movement. I maintain, however, that the band didn't appear to be too upset during this performance. They seemed like they were having a pretty good time. The song features, of course, Steven STILLS, who went on to be a part of Crosby, STILLS, and Nash and/or Crosby, STILLS, Nash, and Young. Coincidentally, this performance also features a heavily-disguised Neil YOUNG, who went on to be a part of Crosby, STILLS, Nash, and YOUNG. On the drums was Richard Dawson, who went on to become part of THE FAMILY FEUD, starring Richard DAWSON. (Okay, yes, I know, but it still kind of looks like him, if you squint.).

A little known fact about Buffalo Springfield is that they originally tried out to be a part of this band (and I'm not kidding):

THE MONKEES - I'M A BELIEVER


It's difficult to explain the lure of The Monkees, unless you were there. But for a pre-teen junior high school girl, The Monkees were HUGE! They had a weekly network TV show that was AWFUL, but at the end of each episode, they would have a music "video", and that was well worth waiting for. Micky Dolenz was always my favorite Monkee. Some girls preferred Davy Jones, but he was a bit too "fey" for my taste (sorry, Davy fans). Plus, I always liked drummers. This song was written by Neil Diamond, and it was a really good song! Let's face it. The other members of The Monkees were Peter Tork and Mike Nesmith. Mike Nesmith's mom invented liquid paper, so I'm guessing he had a nice trust fund. He always looked kind of bored or embarrassed in these music clips, but I bet he wasn't too embarrassed to collect the royalties. I bet not.


THE BYRDS - MR. TAMBOURINE MAN

The Byrds had a big hit with this Bob Dylan song in 1965. You know, the Byrds had quite the lineup. Not only were Roger McGuinn and Gene Clark in the band, but also David CROSBY, who went on to become part of CROSBY, Stills and Nash, and later, CROSBY, Stills, Nash, & Young (oh no, not THIS again). But also, did you know that Gram Parsons was a member of the Byrds at one time? Also, the band included Chris Hillman on bass (who later went on to have a career in country music). In addition to this hit song, the Byrds' other major hit was ripped off from the Bible. But I guess if you're going to rip something off, what could be better to rip off from??


These next two acts aren't technically "bands", but actually "duos", but you just can't leave them out of this discussion. One of the duos was a major influence on popular music; the other one was less so.

So, let's start with the "lesser" one:

SONNY & CHER - BABY, DON'T GO



I deliberately chose this song, because who isn't sick of, "I Got You, Babe"? When I think about Sonny & Cher, I always feel a bit guilty. You see, one year, for Halloween, my friend and I decided to "be" Sonny & Cher. Well, since I had short hair at the time, I got to be Sonny. Oh sure, we had a great time at work, doing our impression of "I Got You, Babe". I tried to sing it like Sonny, but it came out more like Dylan. But it was still fun, and the "fans" (our co-workers) enjoyed it. But not long after that, Sonny met his demise, so I can't really enjoy pleasant memories of that time, if you know what I mean. But on a less personal note, Sonny Bono started out as a go-fer for Phil Spector, and, from what I understand, good ol' Phil didn't treat Sonny so well. (Phil wasn't known to be very magnanimous then.....or ever). But Sonny had a lot of talent...For one thing, he wrote the song, "Needles and Pins", which was a really good song. Plus, he discovered Cher (somewhere), and they ultimately had huge success as a duo. As for Cher, well, I've heard that there was a lot of "magic", let's say, in getting her vocals to sound as good as they did, even after she went off on her own. But hey! Whatever works and makes you tons of money. So you can live in your penthouse suite. "Newww York is where I'd rawther stay. I get ALLERGIC smelling hay. I just ADORE a penthouse suite......." Sorry, I lost my train of thought there for a minute.



SIMON & GARFUNKEL - BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER

Okay, yes, this is not a vintage music clip, but I couldn't NOT include this song. Is this one of the most gorgeous vocals ever or what? And one of the most beautiful songs? It's difficult to condense these guys down into one paragraph. Paul Simon is a songwriter extraordinaire, and Art Garfunkel? Could anyone sing this song more beautifully? I think, to be remembered for this song alone, would make living worthwhile. And don't forget who wrote this glorious song - Paul Simon. So, there you go.


THE ASSOCIATION - CHERISH

Unlike some people, who are ASLEEP, I wasn't a huge fan of the Association. They had one GREAT song, but alas, I cannot find a video of it. That was, "Never My Love". So, I had to default to this song, which isn't too bad. Funny how a band/group can have one song that is AWESOME, and yet, their other songs are snoozerzzzzzz. Well, I just call 'em as I see 'em. This group/band/whatever was what I'd label the precursors to the boy bands of the eighties. You know, the Boyz To Men or Backstreet Boyz or any group that had "Boyz" in its name. (I'll admit, I have no idea what these boyz sounded like, so I'm just kind of riffing here, but I do like putting a "z" at the end of every word). So, if and until "Never My Love" is posted on YouTube, I will reserve further comment on this group. But I do have to say, "The Association" is a lame name for a band/group. How about the "Corporation"? The "DBA's"? The "Limited Partnerships"?


So (ta-DA!) I'm going to end this long and winding post with five bands and/or songs that I love. The first one goes like thus:

THE GUESS WHO - SHARE THE LAND

Burton Cummings, a TRUE Canadian. Note the maple leaf motif on the back of the piano here. And who wouldn't love Burton's long, flowing locks? Burton, I'm afraid, has most likely ballooned up to about 300 pounds nowadays, from the looks of him on this video clip. So?? That doesn't take anything away from his great singing voice. Sure, we make fun of the overweight. It's the last bastion of "making fun of". But one cannot deny that Burton ("call me Burt") was a great singer. And, luckily, he had that lead guitarist dressed in scrubs, who was always at the ready to perform CPR, if Burton needed it.


THE BOX TOPS - THE LETTER

Ah, Alex Chilton, the quintessential recalcitrant teenager. He would never come out of his room, he refused to cut his bangs, even though his mom pounded on his bedroom door incessantly and implored him to get a haircut, and to stop messing with that "devil music". But Alex wouldn't abide. "Mom!", he'd yell. "I'm working on my masterpiece! Leave me alone!" He later found some guys at the high school, who didn't have much going on, and he talked them into forming a band. The guys were a bit wary of Alex, knowing his reputation of being sort of a prima donna, but they signed on anyway, because they were getting bored experimenting in the science lab. They did their best to bring Alex out of his "funk", but Alex was Alex, and, anyway, at least they got ONE hit song out of the deal, and they have fond memories of their time with the Box Tops, although they disavow any knowledge of Alex to this day.


THE (YOUNG) RASCALS - GOOD LOVIN'

Felix (that's not a name you hear every day) was a great singer. Unfortunately, the group felt that they needed something to set them apart from all the others, so they made the decision to wear knickers and pork-pie hats. Not necessarily a well-informed choice. It's a shame, really. Because The Rascals was a great group. They didn't need the knickers. Of course, hindsight is 20/20.


CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL - BAD MOON RISING


John Fogerty always said, "If there is one thing I would do over, I would choose a much better hairstyle. I'd probably not go with the curled bangs, but something a bit more natural." That's really the one regret that John has. If only he'd paid a bit more attention to his hair, who knows what might have transpired? He could have been a big star, to this day. Well, much like the (Young) Rascals, it's too little, too late, at least in the hairdo department. Darn! And I thought this band was really on to something.


THE DOORS - BREAK ON THROUGH

Question: Was Jim Morrison an actual human being? Because I'm questioning that. Reason being, he seemed just a bit too "perfect", you know, as far as looks and stuff. Needless to say, I like Jim Morrison. To play devil's advocate for a moment, however, his lyrics weren't the greatest. "Our love becomes a funeral pyre"? "Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name? Hello, I love you, let me jump in your game." (??) He's just rhyming stuff that makes no sense! I know he drank a lot, but geez, that just seems lazy. But anyway, I remember when "Light My Fire" came out in 1967. If I could have found an embeddable video of that song, I would have used that one instead of this. Sorry that his light was extinguished so soon, but I think everything happens for a reason. You really wouldn't appreciate a 70-year-old Jim Morrison in the same way that you appreciate the 20-year-old. But good golly, Miss Molly, this was a great band. And Ray Manzarek played a mean organ.