Singles – Page 12 – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Roger Daltrey – Free Me

I’ve been listening to the McVicar soundtrack lately, and it’s a great soundtrack for that movie that starred Roger. It’s a song released in 1980 and was written by Russ Ballard. I remember the song and video from MTV, and it’s a hell of a rocker. Roger’s voice, one of rock’s greatest primal instruments, rips through this one, and he means it.

McVicar was Daltrey’s project. He starred in the biopic, produced it, and brought it into existence. Based on the life of bank robber John McVicar, it’s part prison-break flick, part redemption tale. I’ve watched the movie a couple of times, and I would recommend it.

A loud rocker with just enough polish to sneak onto FM radio and just enough attitude to sound like it’s kicking the doors in. On his three previous solo albums, Daltrey had gone out of his way to avoid the hard rock sound of The Who. On this one, he upped his game. Musicians varied on the album, but they did include Pete Townshend, John Entwistle, and new Who drummer Kenney Jones. Keith Moon had played on a few songs on his 1977 album One of the Boys.

Free Me peaked at #39 in the UK and #53 on the Billboard 100 in 1980. The McVicar album peaked at #22 on the Billboard Album Charts, #39 in the UK, and #44 in New Zealand.

I wanted to add one more song from his solo career. A song I haven’t heard in a long time that I always liked. A song called “Say It Aint So Joe” from his One of the Boys album in 1977. The video features John Entwistle, Keith Moon, and Wings guitarist Jimmy McCulloch.

Free Me

Free me
Can’t you hear that’s what I say
Free me
Anyhow or anyway

I hear a voice
Call in the night
Push on the brain
Fades with the light

And I’ve seen a face
With so many eyes
Out in the words
Know there lies

Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say

Free me, free me
Inside I’m bleeding, can’t you see
Free me
From all this pain and misery

I am a flame
But he held the fire
Call me a fool
Don’t call me a liar

Take me to hell
And let me stay
Get back some prize
Well, I have to pay

Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say

Free me

I lie awake
Burning inside
No where to run
And no where to hide

Old lady time
She’s no friend to me
I feel her change
And she holds the key

Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say
Can’t you hear me say

Free me, free me
Can’t you hear that’s what I say
Free me
Anyhow or anyway

…

Del Lords – When The Drugs Kick In

This song won me over with the intro. Such a wonderful melody with the guitar weaving in and out. Of course, the title got me to listen. I’ve covered one of their songs before called How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live?

They were formed in the early ’80s by Scott Kempner of New York punk group the Dictators. They were in the ’70s new wave scene, which the band never quite fit into. Kempner gathered together Eric Ambel of Joan Jett And The Blackhearts, drummer Frank Funero (now with Cracker), and bassist Manny Caiati and set out as The Del-Lords.

They made 4 studio albums from 1984 to 1990. In 2010, they reunited and played gigs for the first time in 20 years. They released an album called Elvis Club in 2013, and this song came off that album.

The Del Lords were always one of those bands who seemed to fall through the cracks, too rock for the roots crowd, too straight ahead for the punks, too Bronx for Nashville. But their records had heart. They didn’t try to change. Elvis Club picks right up where they left off. Scott Kempner wrote this song and most of the songs on the album.

This song is pure Americana, halfway between an E Street shuffle sound and a Ramones bar fight. It doesn’t ask for your pity or your praise. This one feels like the walk home from a party that went a little too sideways. But you would be happy to do it again.

When The Drugs Kick In

I was right in the middle of a big idea(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)I forgot everything right then and there(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)for the last year or so that’s how it’s been(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)I’ve tried and I’ve tried but the drugs always win(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)

when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick inHere I go, here I go, here I go again(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)Goin’ down I know, but I’m goin’ down slow(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)When the drugsKick in

I had this dream, yeah, I used to dream(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)I’d leave no sound unheard, no sight unseen(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)But I heard lies and deception, saw heartbreak and rejection(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)Now I’m an uncast vote in a fixed election(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)When the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in

I’m a jet plane baby, movin’ coast to coastI’m a part time lover, I’m a full time ghostAnd the tunnel of love is the tunnel of lifeAnd I leave on the lights when I go to sleep at nightWhen the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in

Here I go, here I go, here I go again(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)I’m goin’ down I know, but I’m goin’ down slow(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)When the drugsKick inWhen the drugsKick in(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)(when the drugs kick in, when the drugs kick in)

…

Cream – I Feel Free

Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp I feel free…Jack Bruce’s voice in this is great and sets the tone of the song. The song peaked in the UK at #11 in 1967. It’s Cream before they were CREAM, before the mountain-top solos and the molten lava blues.

The track kicks off with that cool a cappella intro, a call-and-response chant that suspends it mid-air. Then Jack Bruce’s bass drops in like a swinging anchor, thumping along with a walking groove that practically skips. The whole song feels like it’s walking a line between psychedelia and British pop, and it works. It’s a perfect single from a band that rarely, if ever, cared about making singles.

Cream wasn’t known for a lot of fun songs. White Room, Sunshine of Your Love, and others meant business, but this one is fun and a little pop. They didn’t have many of those, but they did have a few. Wrapping Paper, I’m So Glad, and my personal favorite, the wonderfully bizarre Anyone For Tennis, have a place in my heart.

British poet Pete Brown helped the band write the lyrics. Brown, who was a beat poet, had worked with Baker and Bruce before. He also wrote lyrics to Sunshine Of Your Love and White Room. Eric Clapton played a borrowed Les Paul guitar on this track, as his Beano album guitar had been stolen during album rehearsals. It was plugged into a new, 100-watt Marshall amp.

Speaking of Clapton, he used what he called his “Woman Tone” on his guitar in this song. It was one of the first times he used it. He got it by turning the amp all the way up, boosting the treble, cutting the bass, and playing a sustained guitar note.

I Feel Free

Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free
Bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp, bomp
I feel free

Feel when I dance with you,
We move like the sea.
You, you’re all I want to know.

I feel free.
I feel free.
I feel free.

I can walk down the street, there’s no one there
Though the pavements are one huge crowd.
I can drive down the road; my eyes don’t see,
Though my mind wants to cry out loud.

I, I, I, I feel free.
I feel free.
I feel free.

I can walk down the street, there’s no one there
Though the pavements are one huge crowd.
I can drive down the road; my eyes don’t see,
Though my mind wants to cry out loud,
Though my mind wants to cry out loud.

Dance floor is like the sea,
Ceiling is the sky.
You’re the sun and as you shine on me,

I feel free.
I feel free.
I feel free.

I, I, I, I

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.

Camper Van Beethoven – Eye Of Fatima (Pt. 1)

I want to thank obbverse’s brother for recommending this song to him and then him to me. Love the bass in this one and the guitar licks that complement the bass. I hear a little bit of Bakersfield in this one as well, with some twang. The song feels like the first part of a bigger story, which it is. The second part song follows as a kind of comedown, but this first part is where the hooks are. Also, it’s even kind of radio-friendly.

Back in the late eighties, I was working while going to college. A co-worker of mine kept playing this band, and it drove me up the wall. My first reaction was to ask…”what the hell is this and why are you playing it?” By the end of the week, I wanted a copy of it, so she taped it and gave it to me on cassette. The song was Take The Skinheads Bowling and it was heavily played on college radio in the late 80s. That’s how I started to know about this band.

This song was a few years later than that one. This one was on their 1988 album called Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart. The first Camper Van Beethoven record for a major label, Virgin, no less, and it’s as if the band decided to storm the gates of MTV with fiddles and surrealism. With this band, you know you’re in for something strange, but also something oddly familiar.

With all that is going on, there is something subversively pop about this song. It grooves. It twangs. It rambles with purpose. And you can sing along to it even if you’re not quite sure what it’s about.

Just so we cover this sufficiently, here is Eye of Fatima (Part 2)

Eye of Fatima (Pt. 1)

He’s got the Eye of Fatima on the wall of his room
Two bottles of tequila, three cats and a broom
He’s got an 18-year-old angel and she’s all dressed in black
He’s got 15 bindles of cocaine tied up in a sack

And this here’s a government experiment and we’re driving like Hell
To give some cowboys some acid and to stay in motels
We’re going to eat up some wide open spaces like it was a cruise on the Nile
Take the hands off the clock, we’re going to be here a while

And I am the Eye of Fatima on the wall of the motel room
And cowboys on acid are like Egyptian cartoons
And no one ever conquered Wyoming from the left or from the right
But you can stay in motel rooms and stay up all night

…

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

Call – What’s Happened To You

I remember seeing The Call on MTV in the mid-eighties, and there was a reason I remembered them. Playing the organ was no other than Garth Hudson for that song. It was a minor MTV hit, and I liked it a lot. The riff really stuck with you. I started to explore more of what they did, and this song is on their album Red Moon, released in 1990.

The Call was formed in Santa Cruz, California, in 1980. The Call was led by bassist, singer-songwriter Michael Been, a gravel-voiced singer who brought fire and the introspection of a tortured poet. His lyrics weren’t about getting the girl or cruising in muscle cars; they were about faith, doubt, injustice, identity, and the fragile grip we keep on hope. Heavy stuff delivered in tight, taut rock songs that carried a punch.

I think the general public really missed a great band here. They did have some MTV play now and then, but never broke through. Probably because they were more Americana, and that didn’t fit in at the time of big production and synths. Altogether, they released 9 albums from 1982 to 1997. In 2024, they released an album called The Lost Tapes with unreleased music from the 1980s and early 1990s.

Where earlier Call albums leaned into their Springsteen/U2 style, Red Moon pulls things inward. The rhythm section is more restrained. There’s even a bit of The Band in the album’s organic, Americana leanings. I also hear some Van Morrison in this track.

The production is warm and minimal, again almost Band-like in its restraint. You get brushed drums, subtle guitar, and just enough space to let the song breathe. You could hear this playing while drifting out of a cracked car window on a long, lonely drive.

They did have one celebrity on this recording. Irishman ~~Van~~ …Bono. He did the backups on this song. In the record company’s infinite wisdom…they picked this one as the single off the album. The reason? Oh, because Bono sang backups. Michael Been said, “I don’t care if Elvis and Lennon came back to life and sang backgrounds, it’s not a single kind of song.”

The song peaked at #25 on the Billboard Alternative Charts and #39 on the Mainstream Rock Charts in 1990.

It is a good song, though…very Americana. The band members were Michael Been, Bass and lead vocals, Jim Goodwin, keyboards and sax, Tom Ferrier, guitar, and Scott Musick, drums. All of them did vocals except Musick.

Here is the song that got me to pay attention to this band. The guest organ player is one of a kind.

What’s Happened To You

La la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la laEverybodyLa la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la la

What’s happened to you?You used to be so shyYou used to hang your head downYou wouldn’t look in my eyesDid you some great vision?Did you finally break through?Did you shake the foundations?What’s happened to you?

La la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la la

What’s happened to you?You used to look so tiredNow there’s a spring in your stepAnd your words are on fireDid you hear some great secret?Did the words ring of truth?Did you rise from the ashes?What’s happened to you?

Where the four winds meetThe world is so stillThe waves are not poundingAnd the hungry are filledOur shadows have crossed hereWhere the sun touched the groundThe gathered are singing (ooh)What a beautiful soundThey’re singing

La la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la laEverybody singLa la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la la

What’s happened to you?You used to be so unkindYou used to curse at this poor worldSo what changed your mind?What stirred such compassionIs a mystery to meI don’t know what’s happenedOh, but I like what I see

La la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la laEverybodyLa la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la la

Everybody!

La la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la laOh singLa la la la la la la laLa la la la la la la la

…

NRBQ – Stomp

The 1969 NRBQ self-titled debut album, released on Columbia Records, is a wonderfully scrappy introduction to a band that never played by the rules, even from the jump. This one caught my ear and never let go. I’m a newbie to the band, but I’ve listened to many of their albums and songs throughout their career in the past few months.

This is the beauty of blogs, everyone. When I first started, my foundation was the holy trinity of rock: the Beatles, the Who, and the Stones. I listened to more than them, of course, but now with all of your help, I’ve picked up on artists that I missed completely in real-time or the ones before I was aware or born. I love expanding my musical knowledge, and this band is part of that. It’s never too late to learn new/old music or movies for that matter.

I believe that some of NRBQ’s greatest assets, such as eclecticism, unwavering artistic values, and humor, are also the reasons they never sold the millions of records they deserved. They are incredible musicians who have no problem being silly and loose as well.

While other bands at the time were chasing hits, studio trickery, and long jams, NRBQ (short for New Rhythm and Blues Quartet) decided to follow Sun Records, Spike Jones, and Cecil Taylor, sometimes all in the same song. The album is a pre-punk, pre-power pop, pre-alt-country, pre-everything slab of glorious fun. There’s no single style to pin it down; it’s equal parts rockabilly, jazz, R&B, novelty, garage rock, and pure American musical mischief. One minute they’re playing jazz, the next they’re writing AM-radio pop that could’ve given Big Star a run for their money. In other words, if you want diverse music, NRBQ is the way to go.

They were formed by pianist Terry Adams, guitarist Steve Ferguson, and drummer Frank Gadler, with the addition of bassist Joey Spampinato (originally Joey Spampanato) and drummer Tom Staley completing the lineup.

The album NRBQ peaked at #162 on the Billboard album charts. Stomp peaked at #122 on the Billboard 100 in 1969. The band has 24 studio albums, 14 live albums, and 15 compilation albums. Terry Adams, who formed the band, is still with them… to this day.

Stomp

Everybody stomp, play it on the ground
Having lots of fun till the sun goes down
People got to know, miles and miles around
About the hidden secret of the stoppin’ so sound

Everybody stomp, play it on the ground
Having lots of fun till the sun goes down
Go and tell your friends, all about to stomp
They can tell there cousins and there mama and pa

And if you do refuse the rhythm my friend
Then you will have to miss the boat in the end
The biggest generation yet has come
But we got something for the old and young
And if you do refuse a+rhytum my friend
Then you will have to miss the boat in the end
You just might stop and stare and wonder why
But you’re just wasting time so come on try
(make it quick)

And if you do refuse a+rhytum my friend
Then you will have to miss the boat in the end
Everybody stomp, play it on the ground
Having lots of fun till the sun goes down
People got to know, miles and miles around
About the hidden secret of stoppin’ so sound
everybody stomp, everybody stomp
everybody stomp, everybody stomp
everybody stomp, everybody stomp
everybody stomp

…

Animals – House of the Rising Sun

I bought this 1964 single when I was 12 in 1979. On the B side was the wonderful Bring It On Home to Me. I became an Animals fan that day. Let’s talk about a song so soaked in sorrow, so drenched in drama, that it feels like a dark southern gothic fable set to tape.

This is a British band covering an old American folk ballad about a New Orleans house of ill repute, and somehow, they made it definitive. The song had already passed through Woody Guthrie, Lead Belly, and Bob Dylan before it landed in the hands of The Animals. But it wasn’t until Eric Burdon opened his mouth that the song finally got its fangs. His voice is more of a howl than singing at times, and gives the song the oomph it needed.

Historians have not been able to definitively identify The House Of The Rising Sun, but the two instances I have read about are these:

1) The song is about a brothel in New Orleans. The House Of The Rising Sun was named after its occupant Madame Marianne LeSoleil Levant (which means “Rising Sun” in French), and was open for business from 1862 (occupation by Union troops) until 1874, when it was closed due to complaints by neighbors. It was located at 826-830 St. Louis St.

2) It’s about a woman’s prison in New Orleans called the Orleans Parish women’s prison, which had an entrance gate adorned with rising sun artwork. This would explain the “ball and chain” lyrics in the song.

The song peaked at #1 in the Billboard 100, #1 in Canada, and #1 in the UK in 1964.

More than anything, his song cemented The Animals as the most dangerous-sounding band to crawl out of the British Invasion. It wasn’t the pop of the Hollies or Herman Hermits. This was dark. Gritty. Adult. You believed every damn word.

The original lineup only recorded three albums, yet nevertheless managed to break out eight Top 40 hits between 1964 and 1966. Alan Price left in 1965, and John Steel the following year. Also in 1966, Chandler left to start managing artists, and he discovered Jimi Hendrix in Greenwich Village.

Eric Burdon: “I don’t think that The Animals got a chance to evolve. We were the first to admit that we took blues songs from American artists, but if the Animals had stuck together and worked together instead of worrying about who was getting all the money, we could have evolved more and come out with more music to be proud of.”

The B side on my single

House of The Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I’m one

My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin’ man
Down in New Orleans

Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he’s satisfied
Is when he’s on a drunk

Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun

Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I’m goin’ back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain

Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I’m one

McCoys – Hang On Sloopy

A relative gave me this single when I was around 7 or 8 years old, and I’ve been a fan ever since. It’s mid-sixties garage rock that was fronted by a great guitarist.

This thing is raw, ragged, and ridiculously catchy. It’s also one of the most unlikely #1 hits of the mid-’60s. A teenage bar band out of Indiana fronted by a 16-year-old Rick Derringer (still using his birth name, Zehringer), drafted into the spotlight by producers looking for someone to finish off a half-assembled track. What they delivered was a rock ‘n’ roll time capsule.

They opened for a band called The Strangegloves, who were a group of producers who formed a band and had a hit called I Want Candy. The Strangegloves, an American band, told everyone they were from Australia and said they were shepherds who got rich by crossbreeding sheep. Yes, it was the sixties. They gave Rick and the Raiders (before they changed their name to the McCoys)a chance to record this song.

It started life as “My Girl Sloopy,” a minor R&B single by The Vibrations in 1964. But the McCoys stripped it down to its most essential parts and cranked up the amp. By the time it hit the airwaves in 1965, it was an instant anthem for kids who didn’t have a lot of time for nuance.

The song peaked at #1 in the Billboard 100 and #5 in the UK in 1965. The McCoys were not one-hit wonders. They had another top 10 hit named Fever and a top 40 hit named Come On Let’s Go.

The song was written by Bert Berns and Wes Farrell. Bert Berns wrote many songs in the sixties and signed Van Morrison to his first solo contract. The name “Sloopy” most likely originated from Dorothy Sloop, a jazz singer from Steubenville, Ohio. Sloop, who died in 1998 at age 85, performed in the New Orleans area using the name “Sloopy.”

This video was done later than the song in 1975. The Dancer, Lisa Leonard Dalton, was surprised when her video went viral a few years ago. Here is a short bio of her.

Hang On Sloopy

Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on
Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on

Sloopy lives in a very bad part of town
And everybody there tries to put my Sloopy down
Sloopy I don’t care what your daddy do
‘Cause you know Sloopy girl I’m in love with you
And so I’m singing

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Sloopy let your hair down girl, let it run down on me
Sloopy let your hair down girl, let it run down on me

Come on Sloopy, come on, come on
Come on Sloopy, come on, come on
Well, come on Sloopy, come on, come on
Well, come on Sloopy, come on, come on

Well it feels so good, come on, come on
You know it feels so good, come on, come on

Well shake it, shake it, shake it Sloopy, come on, come on
Well shake it, shake it, shake it yeah
Yeah

Yeah, 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.

Marshall Crenshaw – Mary Anne

Marshall reminds me of Nick Lowe a little because they make every song sound like a potential hit in a good way. It’s a kind of song that makes everything feel alright for three minutes. It’s one of those perfect power pop songs.

He got his first break playing John Lennon in the off-Broadway touring company of the musical Beatlemania between 1978-1980. Crenshaw said: “In the beginning, I was bothered by it, as an egotistical young person, maybe because I had just gotten out of Beatlemania, and I was sick of any kind of heavy association with some other figure.”

He later played Buddy Holly in La Bamba in 1987. “I’ve been a Buddy Holly fan all my life. The joy still comes across in his music. It’s really got its own je ne sais quoi. It really stands apart from a lot of ’50s rock, because it conveys a sense of intimacy. I think it’s because it was made in this little building on the side of a highway late at night with this isolated group of people.”

Marshall Crenshaw’s 1982 self-titled debut is a rare bird in the rock canon, a flawless record that never seems to age. On the album with the jangle of Someday, Someway and the Buddy Holly bop of Cynical Girl, Mary Anne is the track that quietly steals the show. That chorus. It just opens up like sunshine bursting through the clouds. “Mary Anne, you’re not alone,” Crenshaw assures her, and suddenly you’re not alone either.

The arrangement is a masterclass in restraint. The chiming guitars are pure Rickenbacker, and the bassline has a McCartney-esque melody. No frills, no tricks, just three minutes of songcraft that feels like it could’ve been pulled from AM radio in 1966. In the endless search for a great pop song, Mary Anne is the kind of track that makes you stop searching for a while.

Marshall Crenshaw peaked at #50 on the Billboard album charts in 1982. As the old phrase goes…it’s got more hooks than a tackle box.

Mary Anne

It isn’t such a crimeIt isn’t such a shameIt happens all the timeYou shouldn’t take the blameGo on and have a laughGo have a laugh on meGo on and have a laughAt all your misery

Mary Anne, Mary Anne (don’t cry Mary Anne)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary AnneI’m thinking of youMary Anne, Mary Anne (don’t cry Mary Anne)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne

You take a look aroundAnd all you seem to seeIs bringing you downAs down as you can beGo on and have a laughGo have a laugh on meGo on and have a laughAt how bad it can be

Mary Anne, Mary Anne (you’ll be all right)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary AnneI’m thinking of youMary Anne, Mary Anne (you’ll be all right)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne

Mary Anne, Mary Anne (goodnight Mary Anne)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary AnneI’m thinking of you Mary Anne, Mary Anne (goodnight Mary Anne)I really wanna tell you Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne

…

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

…