Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts

Monday, April 19, 2010

Lesley Gore : Off and Running

I like Lesley Gore. If you didn't grow up with her in the early 60's you probably only know her from her smash, "It's My Party", which is too bad, because she had a few other gems after that. Perhaps my favorite song by Lesley is "Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows" which may be the happiest song on the planet. If you can't smile when that song is on, you have no soul.

"Off and Running" is a swinging little number from a later album with a fairly aggressive orchestration for a pop song. The verse kicks off with a series of staccato hits by the band which dovetails into a nice go-go beat, propelling the song along at a breakneck pace. Lesley's vocals have the right mix of pop melody with just a touch of rock swagger that really makes this a fantastic end-of-relationship kiss-off piece of bubblegum. The energy never stops, even for a moment.

The version I have came from a vinyl copy of her 1967 album, California Nights, lovingly posted about a year ago on the always incredible Iron Leg blog. You can also find it on the Mercury Anthology box set, which is no longer in print, but can be found used.

[You can listen to Lesley Gore's "Off and Running" by navigating to the post "Song076" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]


Monday, January 25, 2010

The 4 Seasons : C'mon Marianne

There's just nobody who can scream a rock & roll falsetto like Frankie Valli. We've all heard his plaintive howl on classics like "Sherry", "Walk Like a Man" and "Big Girls Don't Cry". There's something about a guy nailing that upper register that really helps crank a rock song. (Right, Robert Plant?)

Anyway, in listening to a bunch of 4 Seasons tunes I realized that, while they seem like a happy sunny summertime band, a majority of the tunes are about the lead singer losing his love and a majority of those are about his losing his love because he's actually a cheating fuck. This is one of those songs. Bob Crewe, who co-wrote "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" and "Lady Marmalade", as well as the soundtrack to Barbarella, also helped pen a number of their hits, but this wasn't one of them. That is it wasn't penned by Bob, although it arguably also wasn't that much of a hit, considering it only rose to number nine on the Billboard Pop charts in '67.

Still, it's a bit of a rocker. The rhythm section chugs along nicely underneath as Frankie uses his fabulous upper register to bemoan his tales of woe. Apparently he dabbled a bit on the side and lost his lady, even though this other chick was "a passing fling, and not a permanent thing." But if you were thinking about feeling bad for this guy, realize he starts the song with "Here I am on my knees again," so he's been here before. I really dig how, as the second verse starts, a touch of strings drops in right as Frankie bemoans the fact that her big brown eyes are all full of tears. It's a nice touch. Most of the song is just Frankie crying "Marianne" over and over, but it really works. It's definitely one of my favorites.

You can find this tune on any number of Frankie Valli & the 4 Seasons compilations, including this swell looking number from Rhino records. It's got the big name songs, plus a couple other of my favorites, like "Dawn (Go Away)" which I almost posted instead, and some of Frankie's solo stuff which is great too. It's missing "Alone" though, which is a fantastic song. You'll have to grab that one from iTunes or something.

[You can listen to The 4 Seasons' "C'mon Marianne" by navigating to the post "Song016" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]


Monday, January 18, 2010

Jake Holmes : Dazed and Confused

This one might sound a little familiar. It's a killer tune that Jake Holmes lays down; a dark psychedelic folk jam with a middle-eastern vibe about a woman who won't do right. It's got a mean descending bass riff and there's a fantastic breakdown in the middle where he taps a voodoo rhythm out on the guitar body. The whole thing culminates in a frenzy of strumming that stops so dead, you'd think they accidentally pulled the plug on the four-track.

Well, maybe they did. I wasn't there.

But, aside from being an amazing song in its own right, the song's got a history (which you've already realized, if you're listening to it). Yes, Jake came first and Jimmy came second. It's another in the long line of tunes that, er... shall we say "inspired" Led Zeppelin.

This one's available on his self-aggrandizing album "The Above Ground Sound of Jake Holmes", which I haven't heard, and also on the nifty compilation "The Roots of Led Zeppelin".

[You can listen to Jake Holmes' "Dazed and Confused" by navigating to the post "Song011" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]


Friday, November 20, 2009

Pink Floyd : Paint Box




The goal for Topeka is to expose the reader to new music. Not new in the sense of "just came out last week", but new in the sense of "Hey, you may not have ever heard this before." In order to do this, I'm certainly going to pull some "just came out last week" stuff that I like, but I'm also going back into the creates to explore stuff that maybe you heard but forgot. I especially like the idea of pulling non-single album tracks or B sides from more popular groups, hopefully to shake up your preconceived ideas about what they represent.

Also, the music should just be really good. Or, at least interesting.


To that end, here is the first entry. It's a well-known band, but a lesser-known song. I think. I wasn't really around at the time. The song is Paint Box, by Pink Floyd, the flipside to Apples and Oranges (which is also a great song).

This one sounds a bit like a Syd Barrett penned song, but it turns out it was written by Richard Wright. It's a simple enough little ditty, kind of melancholy riff on the mundane perils of going out on the town with your mates. But it's a bit hazy. There's forgetting and confusion. Someone's calling him on the phone, but she's unnamed. He's late, she's mad, and he ... trips out.

This is all backed by a hazy, psychedelic swirl of production. Not so thick that it becomes a parody (like the Lemon Pipers) but just enough to contribute to the whole sense of oddness, disjointedness and anxiety that pervades the track.

The whole song feels like it really captures the befuddled stupor, the fog of a high one might find oneself in after a long night of imbibing alcohol and ingesting narcotics.

This version came off the awesome Early Singles compilation from 1992.