1970s – Page 7 – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

On Any Sunday

Great documentary about motorcycle racing of all kinds. I still drool over these vintage motorcycles. For the early seventies, it gives you some fantastic footage of what it was like racing on a motorcycle.

I love documentaries, but I wasn’t sure this one would interest me…but it did. I’m not a motorcycle guy, and I only rode some when I was a teenager, but this 1971 documentary kept me glued. I would recommend this to anyone, young or old. The longer I watched, the more I got hooked.

Steve McQueen is in this film, and he helped finance it because he believed in it so much. He is not in it a lot, but he was a gearhead. It was made by Bruce Brown, the same filmmaker who made “Endless Summer,” an excellent documentary about Surfing. Again, I’m not a surfer by any means, but it was also very interesting. I saw the surfing one first, and I got hooked, so I went to this one. It swapped out surfboards for motocross bikes, waves for dirt trails, and sandy blond beach bums for sunburned gearheads with calloused hands and battered helmets.

This film follows about every kind of motorbike competition you can think of… it centers on off-road competition rather than road riding. While Steve McQueen was the draw and provided a lot of the backing to the film, the two main motorcyclists they follow are today’s leaders in their field. The two were Mert Lawwill and Malcolm Smith.

Mert was one of the early pioneers in the off-road bicycling world, having introduced the first production mountain bike. He also developed prosthetic limbs for amputees.

Malcolm owns a dealership and runs Malcolm Smith Racing, a producer of off-road rider equipment. Smith was inducted into the Off-road Motorsports Hall of Fame in 1978, the Motorsports Hall of Fame of America in 1996, and the Motorcycle Hall of Fame in 1998.

I gained a lot of respect for these men who gave their lives to this sport they loved. They traveled around the country with broken vehicles, raced with broken arms and backs to do something they loved without much pay. Brown didn’t over-explain anything. He just showed it. And that’s the charm. On Any Sunday, it doesn’t try to sell you the sport; it invites you to ride with them.

This documentary helped change the image of motorcyclists. There was a “sequel” to this documentary called On Any Sunday: The Next Chapter in 2014.

After watching it, I wanted a motorcycle really bad…But I let the thought pass by and got a Jeep instead.

FULL MOVIE

My Favorite John Lennon songs

Since I listed George’s songs…I have to finish what I started. This one is the hardest to write of any of them because I’m leaving off a lot of great songs.

John is the Beatle I favor; on the surface, the reasons are many. The man’s voice was one of the best rock voices I’ve ever heard. I preferred his voice to that of McCartney, Harrison, and Starr. He probably could write better pure rock songs than the other Beatles, and he also had a great sense of melody that could keep up with Paul and, at times, surpass him on ballads. Yes, he could be witty, sharp, and downright hateful at times, but he was the truth guy for them.

One of the worst days in my teen years was December 9, 1980. I was 13, and that morning I found out that John Lennon was murdered on the 8th. It really hit me hard and changed me in many ways. At that age, this showed me that the world could be an awful place.

When John was murdered, a very unfair thing happened. John was elevated almost as a Saint, which he would have readily admitted he was not. Paul became the sidekick and sank lower in people’s perception of the band. John became the cool one and Paul the square, which was totally unfair to both of them. It didn’t start changing until the Anthology came out in the mid-90s. People started to see Paul as an equal, which he was, and George started to get recognized more and more, as I said last week. And, most people loved Ringo anyway.

My favorite John songs won’t include The Beatles, as I explained last week in the George Harrison post. This will be just solo John. My favorite albums by him were the first two official albums he released. Plastic Ono Band and Imagine. His Mind Games and Steel and Glass albums are great as well, but he had an edge on those first two that he didn’t have on the rest.

Instant Karma! (We All Shine On) – This song is so damn fresh-sounding. It sounds like it was recorded yesterday. It’s so electric-sounding and live.

2. Working Class Hero – This song was a favorite of mine of John Lennon when I was younger. He took some flak about this one, and also the song Imagine. When it came to being a Working Class Hero and having all of his possessions. His answer was

“What would you suggest I do? Give everything away and walk the streets? The Buddhist says, “Get rid of the possessions of the mind.” Walking away from all the money would not accomplish that. It’s like the Beatles. I couldn’t walk away from the Beatles. That’s one possession that’s still tagging along, right?”

3. Mind Games – This is around the time Lennon started to mellow out a bit musically and personally. I bought this single in 1979…6 years after it was released.

4. I Know (I Know) – Yep…this one is not as well known, but it was reportedly about either Yoko or Paul. It was released on the 1973 album Mind Games.

5. GOD – He pours out his feelings on the Beatles and everything else.

6. Watching the Wheels – When listening to Double Fantasy, I like it, but not as well as his early seventies output. This one, though, fits in nicely with his best songs.

7. Jealous Guy – He wrote this melody with the Beatles, but later added some more words to describe himself.

8. How? – What makes “How?” stand out for me is its vulnerability. Lennon doesn’t pretend to know the answers; instead, he shares the questions most of us keep to ourselves. That honesty is what drew me to music in the first place.

9. Nobody Told Me – This one he wanted Ringo to do and had planned to give it to him. I think Ringo would have done a great job of it but I’m glad we have John’s version.

10. Mother – It seems John was looking for a mother for all of his life. His real mother left him with his aunt Mimi, and years later, when he finally started to get to know his mother, she was killed in a hit-and-run accident.

*Bonus! – How Do You Sleep? – It’s the song about Paul when both were angry at each other. Forget that for a minute…it’s a great melody and song on its own. It’s a brilliant piece of rock and roll with George’s snarling slide guitar and an irresistible groove, but its venom can be hard to swallow. Lennon’s line “The sound you make is muzak to my ears” still makes me wince.

…

My Favorite George Harrison songs

Everyone who knows me knows that John is my favorite Beatle, but since I’ve been blogging, I’ve met a lot of people who have been won over by George. I’ve always liked George, but I’ve probably delved more into his catalog than I did before because of people’s enthusiasm about him. I know many bloggers now who consider him their favorite out of The Beatles, including Lisa from tao-talk.com, who ironically, inspired this post from her John Lennon post on Sunday. Enthusiasm rubs off, so I thought I would list my top ten favorite George songs. For some of Lisa’s posts about George, check here, here, here, here, and here. George’s popularity has grown a great deal in the past few years.

I can only imagine how he felt being in a band that contained two of the top songwriters of the 20th Century. Unlike John and Paul, George didn’t start writing songs until 1963-1964. John and Paul had been writing songs since 1956. He was influenced by both of them, and I think he influenced them later on. Songs like Something, you can hear McCartney’s influence. With Taxman I can hear some of John in that one.

You may notice something about this list. It leaves off his two biggest hits. My Sweet Lord and I’ve Got My Mind Set On You. Maybe I’ve heard them too many times, I don’t know, but the other ones hit me more. I’m also going to leave off Beatles (and Wilburys) songs that George wrote. If I made a list of John’s songs (which I will now), I won’t include his Beatles songs because I think they belong to all four, not just John.

I switched my number one and two songs a little while back. They are close to me, but the number one song has won me over again and again.

All Things Must Pass

This is not only my favorite George Harrison song, but I also think it’s one of the best solo Beatles songs, period.

This 1970 George Harrison song is on the album All Things Must Pass. He brought it up during the Let It Be sessions; they went over it, and it sounded fantastic for a rehearsal…you could hear it taking shape. George was mindful of the TV show concert of some kind on Let It Be (it wasn’t decided yet). He wanted to play acoustic and was afraid the acoustic would get lost live. All the songs they did on Let It Be live on the rooftop…were rockers. They went through the song over 30 times. They picked it back up before the concert, but George dropped it. George wanted to do more of a rocker.

To me, it’s the greatest non-officially recorded Beatles song. When all the Beatles’ voices came together in the chorus while rehearsing this one…a shiver went through me. None of them could reproduce those vocals apart.

2. Isn’t It A Pity

I think this one gets forgotten, and it shouldn’t be that way. It was the B side to My Sweet Lord and I think it’s the superior side. George said he wrote it in 1966, but it didn’t see the light of day until 1970.

It resembles Hey Jude in its structure.

3. What Is Life

What an uplifting song this is. It’s a slice of guitar-pop ecstasy. Power pop? Soul-pop? Sunshine fuzz-rock? However you tag it, it belongs high on anyone’s list of 1970s songs.

4. Blow Away

I bought this album, which was in a cut-out bin at a record store and I was surprised how good this album was. This is a song that doesn’t come up as much when you hear George’s music. Much like Isn’t It A Pity…it gets forgotten. It’s nothing earth-shattering or complicated about this song… It’s just a truly great pop single.

5. Any Road

This song was released posthumously, and it remains one of my favorite George songs. It pretty much sums up his philosophy, and I love it. It seemed like a final message from George to everyone.

I heard this song before George passed away…a live version of it by him on a VH1 special that he was on. The interviewer kept pushing him to do a song…I’m glad he did now. When I heard it, I smiled because it was so George. With George’s songs, you could expect a good melody, slide guitar, and his own nugget of knowledge that he left behind.

This song was on George’s last album, Brainwashed, in 2003. George wrote the song in 1988 while working on a video for “Cloud Nine.”

I would follow with these songs.

6: Crackerbox Palace –I first saw the video of this song on television in the seventies. I might have seen it on the SNL broadcast…probably a repeat. A good catchy song by George off of his Thirty-Three & 1/3 album.

7: Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth) – Another positive song from George. George Harrison said this about the song: “Sometimes you open your mouth and you don’t know what you are going to say, and whatever comes out is the starting point. If that happens and you are lucky, it can usually be turned into a song. This song is a prayer and personal statement between me, the Lord, and whoever likes it.”

8. When We Was Fab – It was nice to hear him having fun with his legend instead of the bitterness that all of them had for a short time.

9. Devil’s Radio – From what I read about George, as a kid, he didn’t like the neighbors knowing his business and hated gossip…this song says that plain and clear about the press as well.

10. The Art of Dying – Harrison wrote these lyrics while he was still a Beatle. He found it hard to get many of them on Beatles albums because there was only so much room. The good side is that when The Beatles broke up, he had a backlog full of songs.

Neil Young – Cinnamon Girl

Love the nasty sound Neil has on his guitar. It’s a raw, fuzzed-out letter to the cosmos, sealed with a one-note guitar solo and dropped in the mailbox of your brain forever. It never leaves. This is a song I grew up on, but not this version. Somehow, I had The Gentrys version in my small record collection given to me by someone. It’s close, but no cigar.

That riff, oh that riff. It’s a heavy, descending chunk of molten iron, equal parts garage and pre-grunge blueprint. It’s played in double drop D tuning, which is basically the rock ’n’ roll equivalent of letting the air out of your tires before racing. Everything sounds lower, meaner, sludgier. The minute it hits, it’s clear: Neil doesn’t want perfection. He wants feel. We played this song so many times that I know it by heart.

Neil recruited guitarist Danny Whitten, bassist Billy Talbot, and drummer Ralph Molina from a local psychedelic group called The Rockets and renamed them Crazy Horse. The song was on the album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. The album peaked at #34 on the Billboard 200 album chart and #32 in Canada.

In the liner notes of his Decade compilation, Neil said, “Wrote this for a city girl on peeling pavement coming at me through Phil Ochs’ eyes playing finger cymbals. It was hard to explain to my wife.” Although Neil Young never said who it was about, the bit about finger cymbals could be a reference to ’60s folk singer Jean Ray, who performed with then-husband Jim Glover under the name Jim and Jean.

Brian Ray, who is currently Paul McCartney’s guitarist and Jean’s younger brother, has said the song is indeed about his sister. Jean also said that she inspired another Neil Young track from Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere: Cowgirl in the Sand.

The song peaked at #55 in the Billboard 100 and #25 in Canada in 1970.

Cinnamon Girl

I want to live with a Cinnamon Girl
I could be happy the rest of my life
with a Cinnamon Girl

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night
you see us together chasin’ the moonlight
my Cinnamon Girl

Ten silver saxes, a bass with a bow
the drummer relaxes and waits between shows
for his Cinnamon Girl

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night
you see us together chasin’ the moonlight
my Cinnamon Girl

Pa, send me money now
I’m gonna make it somehow
I need another chance
You see, your baby loves to dance
yeah, yeah, yeah

Flamin’ Groovies – Shake Some Action

This is a great power pop record. This band had different phases, blues rock, and then power pop after co-founder Roy Loney left. Over the decades, Shake Some Action has aged better than nearly anything else from its era. It doesn’t belong to 1976, not really, it belongs to the die-hard power pop fans that followed.

The Flamin’ Groovies first recorded this song in 1972, but the song was not released until their 1976 album of the same name, which was produced by Dave Edmunds, who sped up the tempo of the track and pushed the vocals. According to lead guitarist Cyril Jordan, the descending phrase he played on lead guitar was overdubbed about six times. Edmunds would also put remote microphones around the studio to fatten up certain passages.

The band started in 1965 with Roy Loney and Cyril Jordan. By the end of the sixties, they clashed over where to go. Loney was more Stones, and Jordon leaned toward the Beatles. Loney left in 1971, and they got an 18-year-old lead singer named Chris Wilson. They moved to London and started to work with Dave Edmunds. With Chris, they did more power pop, and that is when Shake Some Action came about, with Wilson and Jordon writing it.

They would go on to be a great power pop band and also be known as an early proto-punk band…they pretty much covered the gamut. This anti-drug song was written by Jordon and Loney before he left…Chris Wilson is singing it.

Wilson left in the early eighties, but the band continued until around 1994. They regrouped in 2012, including Chris Wilson. The Flamin’ Groovies have released 9 studio albums and one as late as 2017.

Shake Some Action

I will find a way
To get to you some day.
Oh, but I, babe, I’m so afraid I’ll fall, yeah.
Now can’t you hear me call?

Shake some action’s what I need
To let me bust out at full speed.
I’m sure that’s all you need
To make it all right.

It’s taken me so long
To get where I belong
Oh, but, oh, please don’t send me back that way, yeah.
For I will make you pay.

Shake some action’s what I need
To let me bust out at full speed.
I’m sure that’s all you need
To make it all right.

If you don’t dig what I say
Then I will go away.
And I won’t come back this again. No.
‘Cause I don’t need a friend.

Shake some action’s what I need
To let me bust out at full speed.
I’m sure that’s all you need
To make it all right.

What is the First Song You Remember?

I thought I would do something different with this post. In the comments I’ve read a lot about what you think of songs. I also had a post asking Who helped Form Your Musical Tastes way back 5 years ago. This one is a little different.

Instead of telling you just my memories, I would like to hear your memories. What is the first song you remember hearing that stuck with you? For me, the answer is one song I heard in 1971. Leaving on a Jet Plane, which ironically I heard in an airport picking up a family member. I can still see the airport with those Tel-A-Chairs around…do you remember those? I can also remember the smell of the airport… no, not a bad one.

Anyway…what is the first song you remember?

Tel-A-Chairs were coin-operated televisions that you would put a dime or a quarter into to watch a few minutes of a show. They were at airports, bus stations, and train stations. I would LOVE to have one of those.

John Mellencamp – I Need A Lover

My sister, who shared such classics as Down By the Lazy River by the Osmonds with me, also shared some good stuff. She liked Mellencamp before he was known as Mellencamp; she had the album Nothin’ Matters and What If It Did before the hits like “Jack and Diane” shot John to stardom.

This song was not on that album, but she had this single back in the late seventies. Let’s rewind. In 1979, Mellencamp was still going by John Cougar, a name thrown to him by his manager in a transparent attempt to give him some glam-rock marketability. He hated it, but he played the game. The song first surfaced on A Biography, his second album, which only saw release in Australia in 1978.

When it finally hit U.S. ears via the album John Cougar a year later, it sounded like something beamed in from a Midwestern garage. The album peaked at #64 on the Billboard 100 and #77 in Canada in 1979.

On the album version, the intro alone is a beast. Nearly three minutes of instrumental buildup, a swirling, stomping jam that sounds like an E Street Band warm-up exercise. Mellencamp makes you wait. When he finally spits out that opening line, I need a lover who won’t drive me crazy, you welcome it.

Mellencamp would later refine his sound, focusing on heartland anthems and a few ballads. But this song is a declaration of frustration, lust, and escape. The song peaked at #28 on the Billboard 100 in 1979 after being rereleased.

I Need A Lover

I need a lover that won’t drive me crazy(I need a lover that won’t drive me crazy)I need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl that knows the meaning of, “Hey, hit the highway”

Well, I’ve been walkin’ the streets up and downRacing through the human jungles at nightI’m so confused, my mind is indifferentHey, I’m so weak, won’t somebody shut off that light? Aw

Electricity runs through the videoAnd I watch it from this hole I call homeAnd all the stonies go dancin’ to the radioAnd I got the world callin’ me up hereTonight on the phone

I need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl to thrill me and then go awayI need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl that knows the meaning of, uh“Hey, hit the highway”

Well, I’m not wiped out by this poolroom life I’m livingI’m gonna quit this job, and go to school, or head back homeAnd I’m not askin’ to be loved or be forgivenHey, I just can’t face shakin’ in this bedroomOne more night alone

I need a lover that won’t drive me crazyI need a lover that won’t drive me crazyI need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl that knows the meaning of, uh“Hey, hit the highway”

I need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl to thrill me and then go awayI need a lover that won’t drive me crazySome girl that knows the meaning of, uh“Hey, hit the highway”You betcha

…

Who – Who Are You

This song is for Song Lyric Sunday for Jim Adams’s blog. This week, the theme is to find a song that is based on reality. A prompt inspired by Badfinger (Max) of PowerPop. Whoever that crazy guy is.

Great song by The Who and one of the first Who songs I knew. Keith Moon was not in the best shape by this time, but his drumming on this is still fantastic. The song helped define classic radio along with its siblings Baba O’Riley and Won’t Get Fooled Again. Unlike some 80s synth sounds, these synths of those three songs still sound fresh today.

Pete Townshend wrote it in the aftermath of a meeting with some industry suits, wandered into a Soho pub, ran into some of the Sex Pistols, and came out very drunk with a bruised ego and the chorus to one of The Who’s most iconic late-period tracks. Rock bottom, meet the charts. This song, released in August 1978, was the title track to what would turn out to be Keith Moon’s final album. He died three weeks after its release, and that ghost haunts the band to this day.

This isn’t the mod, youthful energy of My Generation anymore, it’s the sound of grown men staring into the abyss of their own legend. The Who had spent a decade writing operas, smashing instruments, and becoming arena rock icons. And suddenly they were competing with punk bands they helped inspire.

Townshend once said, Who Are You was a cry of frustration, about the music industry, about the punk movement, about himself. Many of Townsend’s songs are about real-life events. The song peaked at #14 in the Billboard 100 and #18 in the UK in 1978. The album Who Are You peaked at #2 on the Billboard Album Charts, #2 in Canada, and #6 in the UK.

Pete Townshend: “I’d like to think that where the song came from wasn’t the feet that I was drunk when I did the demo, but the fact that I was f–king angry with Allen Klein, and that the song was an outlet for that anger.”

Roger Daltrey: “We were getting incredible accolades from some of the new Punk bands. They were saying how much they loved The Who, that we were the only band they’d leave alive after they’d taken out the rest of the establishment! But I felt very threatened by the Punk thing at first. To me it was like, ‘Well, they think they’re f—ing tough, but we’re f—ing tougher.’ It unsettled me in my vocals. When I listen back to ‘Who Are You?’ I can hear that it made me incredibly aggressive. But that’s what that song was about. Being pissed and aggressive and a c—!”

Who Are You

Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?

I woke up in a Soho doorway
A policeman knew my name
He said “You can go sleep at home tonight
If you can get up and walk away”

I staggered back to the underground
And the breeze blew back my hair
I remember throwin’ punches around
And preachin’ from my chair

Well, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
I really want to know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
‘Cause I really want to know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)

I took the tube back out of town
Back to the Rollin’ Pin
I felt a little like a dying clown
With a streak of Rin Tin Tin

I stretched back and I hiccupped
And looked back on my busy day
Eleven hours in the Tin Pan
God, there’s got to be another way

Who are you?
Ooh wa ooh wa ooh wa ooh wa

Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?

I know there’s a place you walked
Where love falls from the trees
My heart is like a broken cup
I only feel right on my knees

I spit out like a sewer hole
Yet still receive your kiss
How can I measure up to anyone now
After such a love as this?

John Prine – Paradise

I want to thank halffastcyclingclub for bringing this song up when reading the Levon Helm post called The Mountain I posted last week. I’d never heard it and fell for it immediately. I listened to it over and over again. Such a cool vibe of looking back in this song.

The song is not just a song, it’s a family photograph yellowing at the edges, the kind you keep tucked in a drawer and only pull out when you’re feeling brave enough to remember. Written for his parents, and about a real place in Kentucky that no longer exists the way it used to. We can all relate to this. I grew up in a small city in Tennessee, and it’s completely different now than it was when I grew up. Sometimes progress is good and sometimes not.

I don’t usually dissect songs, but this one hit me. Prine was only in his mid-twenties when he wrote it, but he already sounded like someone who’d lived a dozen lives. It’s not just a memory, it’s a eulogy with a banjo. “And daddy won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County / Down by the Green River where Paradise lay…”
And the punchline comes just a beat later:
“…Well I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in askin’ / Mr. Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away.”

That’s it right there. Prine gives you a warm hug and slips a dagger in your back before the first verse is out. It’s a protest song in overalls, gentle, but furious. Not angry, but quietly heartbroken. He’s not shouting down injustice; he’s telling you what it feels like when the land your family once lived on gets strip-mined out of existence.

This song was the fifth track on his 1971 debut album, which is ridiculous when you think about it. As young as he was, and writing a song like this. Plenty of artists have covered Paradise. Dwight Yoakam, John Denver, John Fogerty, even the Everly Brothers, but none of them touch the original. Because it wasn’t just a song to Prine. It was a love letter to something that couldn’t love him back anymore.

Lynn Anderson released it in 1975, and it was the most commercially successful release. It peaked at #26 on the Billboard Country Charts and #16 on the Canadian Country Charts.

Paradise

When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there’s a backwards old town that’s often remembered
So many times that my memories are worn

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry, my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Well, sometimes we’d travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Airdrie Hill
Where the air smelled like snakes we’d shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Then the coal company came with the world’s largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man

When I die, let my ashes float down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester Dam
I’ll be halfway to Heaven with Paradise waitin’
Just five miles away from wherever I am

…

Little Feat – Rock and Roll Doctor

I love Little Feat. A musician’s band that sounds great. This song is filled with funk and southern-fried sophistication. It’s really tight at 2 minutes and 57 seconds; this track from Little Feat’s Feats Don’t Fail Me Now album is equal parts swagger, groove, and swampy gospel-tinged funk. It captures everything that made the Lowell George-led era of the band so distinct: tight arrangements, terrific guitar, and soulful vocals.

Only Little Feat could’ve made this record. The band was already deep into their groove by 1974, but this album is where the voodoo met the vinyl with that sound. Lowell George, rock and roll’s most underrated guitarist and a man who sounded like he’d lived three lifetimes by 29, delivers a great vocal as well. “Two degrees in be-bop, a PhD in swing / He’s the master of rhythm, he’s a rock and roll king!” It’s a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the healing power of boogie, but also a serious testament to Little Feat’s freakish musical chemistry and ability.

The whole track hangs on that in-the-pocket rhythm section. The band is in lockstep throughout, Richie Hayward’s drumming is crisp and funky, Paul Barrere and Lowell George’s guitars weave effortlessly, and Bill Payne’s piano rides just behind the beat, and it could have carried the song alone. There’s even some gospel call-and-response in the backing vocals. It’s a shuffle, but it’s never lazy. It’s slick, but not slick-slick.

George’s slide solo? It says something and punctuates the song. Feats Don’t Fail Me Now peaked at #36 on the Billboard Album Charts and #40 in Canada in 1974. The song peaked at #34 on the Billboard 100 later in 1981.

Rock and Roll Doctor

There was a woman in Georgia didn’t feel just rightShe had fever all day and chills at nightNow things got worse, yes a serious bindAt times like this it takes a man with such style I cannot often findA doctor of the heart and a doctor of mind

If you like country with a boogie beat he’s the man to meetIf you like the sound of shufflin’ feet he can’t be beatIf you wanna feel real nice, just ask the Rock and Roll doctor’s advice

It’s just a country town but patients comeFrom Mobile to Moline from miles aroundNagodoches to New OrleansIn beat-up old cars or in limousinesTo meet the doctor of soul, he’s got his very own thing

Two degrees in be-bop, a PHD in swingHe’s the master of rhythm he’s a rock and roll king

If you like country with a boogie beat he’s the man to meet (he’s the man to meet)If you like the sound of shufflin’ feet he can’t be beat(I say he can’t be beat)If you…If you wannaIf you wanna feel real nice, just ask the Rock and Roll doctor’s advice

…

T-Rex – 20th Century Boy

I first heard this song on a car commercial. It was nice to hear something from T. Rex other than Bang a Gong. T Rex was never huge in America, but for a few years was very popular in the UK. They were one of the biggest UK Glam Rock bands.

It was released in 1973 as a non-album single. 20th Century Boy opens with a riff that could crack the sidewalk. It doesn’t crawl out of the speakers so much as leap from them. It’s all swagger, glam, and distortion turned up to 11.

The song sounds so modern with Tony Visconti’s production. It never cracked the Top 10 in the U.S., but in the UK it was a smash. The song found new life in commercials and soundtracks. It’s Bolan doing what he did best, selling you not just a song, but an attitude. He wasn’t offering truth or authenticity; he was offering escape.

Their popularity soared in 1971-72, and a mania that was called “T. Rexstasy”. In 1972, Ringo Starr produced and directed a concert film called Born to Boogie about T Rex. This song peaked at #3 in the UK Charts in 1973 and #11 in 1991.

The band only charted 3 songs in the Billboard 100 with one top ten hit…Bang a Gong. In the UK, they scored 4 number ones and 21 top forty songs.

20th Century Boy

Friends say it’s fine
Friends say it’s good
Everybody says it’s just like Rock ‘n Roll
I move like a cat
Charge like a ram
Sting like a bee
Babe I wanna be your man

Well it’s plain to see you were meant for me
Yeah, I’m your boy, your 20th Century toy

Friends say it’s fine
Friends say it’s good
Everybody says it’s just like Rock ‘n Roll
Fly like a plane
Drive like a car
Hold out your hand
Babe I’m gonna be your man

And it’s plain to see you were meant for me
Yeah, I’m your toy, your 20th Century boy

20th Century toy, I wanna be your boy [4x]

Friends say it’s fine
Friends say it’s good
Everybody says it’s just like Rock ‘n Roll
Move like a cat
Charge like a ram
Sting like a bee
Babe I’m gonna be your man

And it’s plain to see
You were meant for me
Yeah I’m your toy
Your 20th Century boy

20th Century toy, I wanna be your boy [4x]

Flo & Eddie – Keep It Warm

When I heard this song, I had to find out who it was. I was watching Late Night with the Devil, and this song played. I finally looked at the Soundtrack and to my surprise, it was Flo and Eddie. Flo (Phlorescent Leech) is Mark Volman, and Eddie is Howard Kaylan. Mark and Howard were the two founding members of the 1960s band The Turtles. The Turtles had a large vocal sound. Kaylan is a very good singer, and when combined with Volman, it made a unique sound for the Turtles.

After the Turtles broke up, Howard and Mark Volman went by the name “Flo and Eddie” for legal reasons (old Turtles contract). They made a career of unusual rock-comedy albums and developed a following. They immediately began playing with Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention and were there when Frank was pushed off the stage at the Rainbow. They were also in the Zappa movie, 200 Motels.

Flo & Eddie were what happened when two of the strangest, funniest, and most musically savvy minds to ever pass through the Top 40 were given free rein. This song was never a hit. It didn’t even scrape the charts. But like most of the best Flo & Eddie material, it was an inside joke with enough melody to trick you into thinking it WAS a hit. It’s a song about being past your prime, sung with the kind of confidence that says you never bought into the hype in the first place. If this came on the radio between Pablo Cruise and Seals & Crofts, you might not notice anything was different until you realized it was mocking both of them while sounding just as good.

The song opens with a clean piano, all smooth and clean guitars, but the lyrics are just… off. The chorus says “keep it warm,” but what is it, exactly? A bed? A place in your heart? An old seat at the Hollywood Squares? Richard Dawson’s seat on Match Game? Kaylan delivers it with such sincere charm that it takes a few listens before you realize it’s about disillusionment, being outdated, all the while dressed up in a Beach Boys falsetto.

The production was immaculate. Jim Pons (also ex-Turtle, ex-Zappa) lays down a bass line that fits the song perfectly. The arrangements swirl like mid-70s L.A. excess seen through a cracked, warped rearview mirror.

The song was on their 1976 album Moving Targets.

Keep It Warm

Write another song for the moneySomething they can sing, not so funnyMoney in the bank to keep us warm

Stick another grape in the juicerOr fill your guts with grease and get looserYou are what you eat, so eat it warm

Roll another joint for the GipperGet the Gipper high, he gets hipperStick it in his mouth and keep him warm

Elect another jerk to the White HouseGracie Slick is losing her DormouseTake her off the streets and keep her warm (oh-oh)

Fight another war if they make youSqueal on a friend or they’ll take youThe future’s in your lap, so keep it warm

Warm, here in your arms (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)Safe from all harm, where I belong (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)Warm, cozy and calm (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)Another dawn, together warm (ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)

My Woody’s broken down by the beach nowAnd TM’s gotten far out of reach nowTell the Mahareesh to keep it warm(We’re picking up good vibrations)

And George is suing Paul, suing RingoAnd immigration wants John and YokoAll they need is love to keep them warm

Kill another whale with your powerShoot a bunch of kids from a towerSnipe them in their cars, blood keeps them warm

Or make a better world from the old oneMake yourself a baby and hold oneHold her in your arms and keep her warm

Keep her warm, keep her warmKeep her warm, keep her warmKeep her warm, keep her warmKeep her warm, keep her warmKeep her warm…

…

Rufus featuring Chaka Khan – Tell Me Something Good

Great song, great music, great voice. You want funk? You want soul? You want a dirty-sounding clavinet? Step right up, Rufus has got you covered. There’s something raw and unpolished here that gives the song its character. It’s not trying to be slick. It’s lean and mean, clocking in under four minutes, and still manages to say everything it needs to say. It’s still one of my favorite AM singles of the 1970s. It would fit in today as well.

Chaka… She’s the axis this record spins on. Her voice doesn’t so much sing the lyrics; she dominates them. Stevie Wonder brought a few songs to the studio, and she stunned her bandmates by saying she didn’t like them. She was 19 and pregnant and not in the best of moods. Stevie asked her for her astrological sign, and she said Aries. He then delivered this song, which she loved.

Tony Maiden’s talkbox guitar gives it that extra wobble, while Kevin Murphy’s clavinet lays down a foundation so nasty you could mop the floor with it. This song came off the 1974 album Rags to Rufus. Stevie Wonder recorded it himself in 1973 but never released it. The song peaked at #3 on the Billboard 100 and #21 in Canada in 1974. The Talk-Box, which Frampton later used, sounds great in this song.

Rufus evolved from a group called The American Breed, who had a hit with “Bend Me, Shape Me.” They took their name from a column in Popular Mechanics magazine called “Ask Rufus,” later shortened to Rufus when Chaka Khan joined the band in 1972.

Tell Me Something Good

You ain’t got no kind of feeling inside
I got something that will sure ‘nough set your stuff on fire
You refuse to put anything before your pride
What I got something will knock all your pride aside

Tell me something good
Tell me that you love me, yeah
Tell me something good
Tell me that you like it, yeah

Got no time is what you’re known to say
I’ll make you wish there was forty eight hours to each day
The problem is you ain’t been loved like you should
What I got to give will sure ‘nough do you good

Tell me something good
Tell me that you love me, yeah
Tell me something good
Tell me that you like it, yeah

Tell me something good (oh, yeah, yeah)
Tell me that you love me, yeah
Tell me something good
Tell me that you like it, yeah

Tell me something good (tell me baby baby, tell me)
Tell me that you love me, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah
Tell me something good (oh, tell me, tell me, tell me)
Tell me that you like it, yeah, yeah, don’t you like it, baby?

Kinks – 20th Century Man

This is the twentieth centuryBut too much aggravationThis is the edge of insanityI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want to be here

This song is for Song Lyric Sunday for Jim Adams’s blog. This week’s prompt is (drum roll please…) a song from a concept album.

This song came from the album Muswell Hillbillies. A blogger friend of mine halffastcyclingclub, wrote up a post about it when I had the Kinks Weeks last year, it’s right here. Muswell Hillbillies is one of the many concept albums The Kinks did in the late sixties and early seventies. 20th Century Man kicks off the album.

The song is an anthem of the over-civilized, over-documented, over-saturated age. Davies isn’t just annoyed by technology or bureaucracy; he’s exhausted by the entire machinery of progress. X-rays, radiation, political ideology, Big Brother watching from the corner of the room, Ray sees it all and wants out. Half a century later, 20th Century Man sounds eerily current. All those worries about surveillance, conformity, soulless routine? They didn’t go away, they just put on a fresh coat of Wi-Fi and Bluetooth.

Musically, it’s a leaner Kinks, with no horn section, no vaudeville flourishes, and no trimmings. Just guitars, grit, and a message that cuts you like a cold wind. Even the production feels lived-in, like it’s already been through the wringer. At the end of the song, it comes to life with a frustrated Ray Davies singing that he cannot keep up and doesn’t want to be there.

I can really relate to what he is going through in this song. This was before the 24/7 news cycle and advertising chasing us everywhere we turn. It peaked at #106 on the Billboard 100. The album peaked at #100 on the Billboard Album Charts in 1971. Lola just came out the year before, but it would be in the mid to late seventies when they returned to more commercial success. These albums, though, were great.

20th Century Man

This is the age of machineryA mechanical nightmareThe wonderful world of technologyNapalm hydrogen bombs biological warfare

This is the twentieth centuryBut too much aggravationIt’s the age of insanityWhat has become of the green pleasant fields of Jerusalem

Ain’t got no ambitionI’m just disillusionedI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want, I don’t want to be here

My mama said she can’t understand meShe can’t see my motivationJust give me some securityI’m a paranoid schizoid product of the twentieth century

You keep all your smart modern writersGive me William ShakespeareYou keep all your smart modern paintersI’ll take Rembrandt, Titian, Da Vinci and Gainsborough

Girl we gotta get out of hereWe gotta find a solutionI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want, I don’t want to die here

Girl, we gotta get out of hereWe gotta find a solutionI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want, I don’t want to be here

I was born in a welfare stateRuled by bureaucracyControlled by civil servantsAnd people dressed in greyGot no privacy, got no liberty‘Cause the twentieth century peopleTook it all away from me

Don’t want to get myself shot downBy some trigger happy policemanGotta keep a hold on my sanityI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want to die here

My mama says she can’t understand meShe can’t see my motivationAin’t got no securityI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want to die here

I don’t want twentieth century, manI don’t want twentieth century, manI don’t want twentieth century, manI don’t want twentieth century, man

This is the twentieth centuryBut too much aggravationThis is the edge of insanityI’m a twentieth century man but I don’t want to be here

…

Willis Alan Ramsey – Satin Sheets

Hallelujah let me sock it to ya
Praise the Lord, and pass the mescaline

You could spend a weekend digging through Texas songwriters and never quite land on someone as mysterious or as mythically hyped as Willis Alan Ramsey. I want to thank a commentator M.Y. for telling me about this wonderful album and artist.

Ramsey was born in Alabama in 1951, but it was Texas where he planted his flag and his musical roots. The Lone Star State was churning out outlaw country and cosmic cowboys in the early ‘70s, and Ramsey’s 1972 self-titled debut landed right in the middle of it. The album was released on Leon Russell’s Shelter Records (home to J.J. Cale and Dwight Twilley), Willis Alan Ramsey was a swampy, soulful, blend of folk, country, and blues.

This album, released in 1972, was his only album. It has been lauded by critics, and I can understand why. He had a contract dispute with Shelter Records and left at the end of the contract. His fans have been waiting half a century for a new album. When asked, he said, “What’s wrong with the first one?” He did start a new album in 1997 and is trying to finish it with financial help from friends and fans alike. It is still in the works.

He did have one song that is widely known. There is a song on this album called Muskrat Candlelight. Do the math, and you know who covered it. Change Candlelight to Love, and yes, you have Captain and Tennille. I’ve listened to this album many times, and the guy can write some interesting lyrics. The ones I have at the top got my attention right away with this song.

Give a listen to this album if you have time.

Satin Sheets

I wish I was a millionaire
Play rock music and grow long hair
Tell your boys
‘Bout a new Rolls-Royce

Pretty women callin’ me
Give ‘em all the third degree
Give ‘em satin sheets
To keep ‘em off the streets

Hallelujah let me sock it to ya
Praise the Lord, and pass the mescaline
Trade your whole world
You’ll come over
As soon as you see me boogie-woogie ‘cross the silver screen

Hang ‘em high, hang ‘em low
Put ‘em in the ceilings wherever I go
And they’d swing all night
In the rafter light

Hallelujah, what’s it to ya?
Got your coffee, me, I got my Spanish tea
Trade your whole world
You’ll come over
As soon as you hear me playing my calliope

I wish I was a millionaire
Play rock music and grow long hair
Tell your boys
‘Bout a new Rolls-Royce

….