Wednesday, September 30, 2020

 

A history of popular music as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 3) 

The ground rules are in part 1 

80. Soft Cell –•– Tainted Love — (Peaked: July 17, 1982 at # 8)  

Another in the long tradition of British bands covering American R&B records, "Tainted Love"was originally a minor hit for Gloria Jones in 1964, who has another, unfortunate connection with a British musician as the driver of the car that hit a tree, killing her passenger and boyfriend Marc Bolan in 1977. 

79. Tom Clay –•– What the World Needs Now Is Love/Abraham, Martin and John — (Peaked: August 14, 1971 at # 8) 

There was an earnestness to the radio during the summer of 1971, what with “You’ve Got A Friend,” “Indian Reservation,” “Colour My World” (note the very earnest spelling), “Signs,” “Mercy Mercy Me” and Tom Clay’s collage “What the World Needs Now Is Love/Abraham, Martin and John,” which mixed soundbites from John and Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, with the TV and radio announcements of their deaths. Heavy-handed, ghoulish and a bummer whenever it came on the radio; you’d sit through and hope the next song was something a little more upbeat. 

78. Senator Bobby –•– Wild Thing — (Peaked: February 4, 1967 at # 20)

Political satire was a lot easier back then. Bobby Kennedy had that funny Boston accent and eleven kids, both key elements to this record. Unfortunately, "Wild Thing" opens with the studio engineer calling for “take 72,” an allusion to the 1972 presidential election and the seemingly bright future in store for the senator from New York. 

77. Bruce Channel –•– Hey! Baby — (Peaked: March 10, 1962 at # 1)     

When this Texas singer toured his only hit through the UK, the Beatles opened a few of his shows. The story is that Channel’s harmonica player, Delbert McClinton, showed John Lennon a few harmonica riffs, which Lennon morphed into the backing for “Love Me Do.” McClinton was a one-hit wonder himself with “Giving It Up For Your Love” (#8 in 1981). 

76. Dave Brubeck Quartet –•– Take Five — (Peaked: October 9, 1961 at # 25)    

I have a hazy memory of puppets on a kid’s show (Sandy Becker? Chuck McCann?) doing some sort of skit behind this song. 

75. Deodato –•– Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001) — (Peaked: March 31, 1973 at # 2)       

Richard Strauss’ 1896 classical piece has become easy shorthand for the entrance of something momentous, epic and grand. Not surprisingly it was the music that accompanied Elvis Presley’s arrival onstage. This jazzy version shed the pomposity and was used ironically in the movie Being There when Pete Sellers finally leaves the mansion he’s never set foot out of, revealing a neighborhood that has completely fallen apart in the interim. 

74. The Wonder Who? –•– Don’t Think Twice — (Peaked: December 25, 1965 at # 12) 

Everybody who heard this on the radio immediately knew it was the Four Seasons, so that Wonder Who bit wasn’t fooling anybody. But the concept is strange. What if Frankie Valli sang an entire song in falsetto? And it was a Dylan song? 

73. R. Dean Taylor –•– Indiana Wants Me — (Peaked: November 7, 1970 at # 5)             

The 70s were full of records like "Indiana Wants Me", story songs with enough plot for a 90-minute made-for-television movie. In a mythical Aaron Spelling production, our hero (Michael Ontkean) has killed a man who insulted his wife (Kate Jackson) and is on the run until, "Red lights are flashin' around me/Yeah, love, it looks like they found me.” (The role of the gruff Indiana sheriff who admires Ontkean but must do his job and bring him in goes to George Kennedy). The song’s ending, with its police sirens, gunfire and bullhorn demands to surrender has a clumsy charm and may have served as an inspiration for Stevie Wonder’s little radio play of cops arresting the innocent hayseed at the end of “Living For the City.” 

72. Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band –•– Cherchez La Femme — (Peaked: January 29, 1977 at # 27)

Retro disco/swing sounding like a cross between Cab Calloway and the Pointer Sisters, “Cherchez La Femme” gets docked a point for the gratuitous mention of Tommy Mottola, record company executive and the group’s benefactor, who didn’t need the publicity. Boy, you didn’t see groups like the Beatles write songs about their manager … oh wait … “Baby You’re A Rich Man.” 

71. Toni Basil –•– Mickey — (Peaked: December 11, 1982 at # 1)            

Highlights from Toni Basil's Zelig-like show business career: Dancing with Elvis Presley in Viva Las Vegas, her first film; Playing one of the two hookers in Easy Rider who drop acid, take off their clothes and freak out in the cemetery; Choreographing the video for “Once In A Lifetime” (and in doing so creating the “David Byrne” nutty persona); Founding – and as its token white member – The Lockers dance troupe, before giving her spot to smooth-moving fat kid Fred Berry.

 

 

 

Friday, September 18, 2020

The other side of hell

 

After sharing the two worst weeks in the history of recorded music earlier ("Two weeks of hell," here are the two greatest weeks, the new reality of popular music, late summer 1965.

 

My independence seems to vanish in the haze. No direction home. James Brown becomes James Brown. The instrumental overture at the start of "California Girls." The Yardbirds’ lead guitar that sounds like a sitar. Barry McGuire, We Five and the Turtles find their boot heels to be wanderin'. “I Got You Babe” and “Hang On Sloopy,” a couple of pop music immortals. Jazz makes a rare -- maybe only -- top ten showing with Ramsey Lewis. “Catch Us If You Can” is the Dave Clark Five’s best record. Even the melodramatic “Unchained Melody” has a second life 25 years later when it’s used in the racy “pottery scene” in Ghost (a movie I’ve proudly avoided). If 1965 is rock's greatest year, and it just might be, look no further than these two weeks.

 

US Top 40 Singles for the Week Ending 11th September 1965

1 HELP! –•– The Beatles

2 LIKE A ROLLING STONE –•– Bob Dylan

3 EVE OF DESTRUCTION –•– Barry McGuire

4 YOU WERE ON MY MIND –•– We Five

5 CALIFORNIA GIRLS –•– The Beach Boys

6 UNCHAINED MELODY –•– The Righteous Brothers

7 I GOT YOU BABE –•– Sonny and Cher

8 PAPA’S GOT A BRAND NEW BAG –•– James Brown and the Famous Flames

9 IT AIN’T ME BABE –•– The Turtles

10 THE “IN” CROWD –•– The Ramsey Lewis Trio

 

US Top 40 Singles for the Week Ending 18th September 1965

1 HELP! –•– The Beatles (Capitol)

2 EVE OF DESTRUCTION –•– Barry McGuire

3 LIKE A ROLLING STONE –•– Bob Dylan

4 YOU WERE ON MY MIND –•– We Five

5 CATCH US IF YOU CAN –•– The Dave Clark Five

6 THE “IN” CROWD –•– The Ramsey Lewis Trio

7 HANG ON SLOOPY –•– The McCoys

8 IT AIN’T ME BABE –•– The Turtles

9 I GOT YOU BABE –•– Sonny and Cher

10 HEART FULL OF SOUL –•– The Yardbirds 

Friday, September 11, 2020

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 2)

Second in the series; the criteria for what makes a one-hit wonder is in the entry below. 

90: J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers –•– Last Kiss — (Peaked: November 7, 1964 at # 2)

For a time, teenage tragedy songs were the rage – grim storylines of star-crossed couples who vow eternal love just before one of them is killed, preferably (because it’s a lot closer to home if you’re a teenager who just got their driver’s license) in a vehicular accident. By 1964, the genre looked to have run its course when suddenly “Last Kiss” (and “Leader of the Pack” by the Shangri-Las) pushed with clutching hands through graveyard dirt. J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers were touring the Midwest as "Last Kiss" rattled at the bottom of the charts. Early one morning in Ohio, a car in their caravan drifted into the oncoming lane and rammed head-on into a trailer truck. The driver of the car was killed, and Wilson broke his ankle. The tour continued, with Wilson hobbling onstage on a crutch, and “Last Kiss” began climbing up the charts.  

89. The Castaways –•– Liar, Liar — (Peaked: October 23, 1965 at # 12) 

88: The Elegants –•– Little Star — (Peaked: August 25, 1958 at # 1)

Based as they are on childhood rhymes, these songs offer instant familiarity. The Castaways were a Minneapolis band that mostly played Midwestern frat parties until they cut "Liar Liar" for a local record label. Built around the “liar, liar, pants are on fire” playground taunt, it was a national breakout. The Elegants were five Italian teenagers from Staten Island who reworked “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to create a doo-wop gem. 

87. Dean Friedman –•– Ariel — (Peaked: June 25, 1977 at # 26)

Dean Friedman of Paramus salutes his hometown’s most spectacular cultural contribution, the waterfall at Paramus Park, as well as Dairy Queen (he mentions getting onion rings, so it was probably the one on Route 4, where you could also get hot dogs and hamburgers from their “brazier”). 

86. Tom Tom Club –•– Genius of Love — (Peaked: April 24, 1982 at # 31)

The three members of the Talking Heads not named David Byrne pay tribute to black music, capturing a very specific time, not unlike Arthur Conley’s shout out of the soul superstars of 1966 in “Sweet Soul Music.” When someone gets around to making a documentary about inner-city culture of the early 80s, “Genius of Love” will play on the soundtrack as kids carry boom boxes the size of window air conditioners on their shoulder and graffiti-covered elevated trains roll by. 

85. Tiny Tim –•– Tip Toe Thru’ The Tulips With Me — (Peaked: June 29, 1968 at # 17) 

84. The New Vaudeville Band –•– Winchester Cathedral — (Peaked: December 3, 1966 at # 1)

Mostly in the UK, music hall and vaudeville were a strange offshoot of psychedelia that not even the Beatles (or at least Paul) were immune to (“When I’m 64” and “Your Mother Should Know”). The New Vaudeville Band were following the trend, but Tiny Tim was the real deal, an eccentric human jukebox who seemingly knew the words and music to every song written since the turn of the century. 

83. The Undisputed Truth –•– Smiling Faces Sometimes — (Peaked: September 4, 1971 at # 3)

Serpentine slow-burner written by Motown’s Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong, whose songwriting credits are pretty amazing, including Money, Just My Imagination, Psychedelic Shack, Cloud Nine, Runaway Child, I Wish It Would Rain, Too Many Fish in the Sea and I Heard It Through the Grapevine. 

82. Kai Winding –•– More — (Peaked: August 24, 1963 at # 8)  

Someone at Fairmount School, obviously with a negligent parent, saw Mondo Cane at the Fox Theater and it was the talk of the day. “You really see a guy get killed by a bull? Stabbed with its horns?” When, many years later, the film finally made its television debut on Channel 9 – which should tell you a lot about Mondo Cane – it turned out to be a dull anthology of dated “weird” scenes, like senior citizen bodybuilders. It had a nice theme song though, sort of a rewrite of Telstar (or maybe it was the other way around). 

81. Sheb Wooley –•– Purple People Eater — (Peaked: June 9, 1958 at # 1)

Woolworth's in Hackensack sold one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater toy figures. They scared me.

 

Friday, August 28, 2020

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 1) 

The ground rules for defining a one-hit wonder: Each of these artists must have hit the Billboard Top 40 with only one song. Ever. That makes them a one-hit wonder. The Buffalo Springfield, regardless of their legacy, are a one-hit wonder by this definition. The Knack are not since their follow-up to “My Sharona” made the Top 40. This list only captures songs from 1955 to 1989, more or less paralleling my interest in this kind of minutiae and freeing me from having to comment on “Who Let the Dogs Out,” “The Macarena” or “Barbie Girl.” If this list covered the greatest one-hit wonders based on personal tastes, it would look much different. This is more about the one-hit wonders that are culturally, historically or aesthetically significant – or at the very least offered something I could say about them. 

100: Hillside Singers –•– I’d Like to Teach the World — (Peaked: January 15, 1972 at #13)

99: T-Bones –•– No Matter What Shape — (Peaked: February 5, 1966 at # 3)     

As Middle America went about its business humming these commercial jingles, adapting them as standalone songs seemed almost too easy. The T-Bones were the LA studio musicians known as The Wrecking Crew, channeling the Ventures with their remake of the Alka-Seltzer jingle. The Hillside Singers were a studio creation that sounded too close to Up With People for comfort. Like an opened can of Coca-Cola that’s been allowed to sit, "I'd Like To Teach The World" had no fizz; it was just sweet and syrupy. 

98: Grateful Dead –•– Touch of Grey — (Peaked: September 26, 1987 at # 9)     

The 60s really ended at some point in the 80s with John Lennon and Marvin Gaye murdered, Keith Richards and David Crosby perpetually zonked; Brian Wilson unable to get out of bed; Bob Dylan with writer’s block; and Paul McCartney thinking it would be a good idea to write and record with Michael Jackson. But by the late 80s, with tie-dyed shirts back in fashion and the 20th anniversary of the Summer of Love, that 60s incense was in the air again. The Grateful Dead, a 60s survivor not known for their self-preservation skills (or their ability to write a catchy tune), somehow tapped into all this and caught late-inning lightning with an ode to growing old gracefully – “old” in this case meant approaching 50.

97: The Jamies –•– Summertime, Summertime — (Peaked: September 22, 1958 at # 26) 

In a 1978 movie called Fingers, Harvey Keitel plays a gifted pianist with a knack for violently shaking down people who owe his gangster father money. Fidgety, impulsive -- in short a poster child for Asperger's -- when Keitel’s character isn't practicing dramatic piano concertos, he’s walking around Manhattan with a portable tape machine obsessively playing "Summertime, Summertime” over and over. Heard mostly on oldies radio, predictably when the seasons changed, the song was always pleasant enough, backed by with what sounds like a harpsichord. 

96: Edie Brickell & New Bohemians –•– What I Am — (Peaked: March 4, 1989 at # 7)    

Stoner anthem celebrating a complete lack of metaphysical awareness and depth on the part of the singer. 

95: Gary Numan –•– Cars — (Peaked: June 7, 1980 at # 9)

Maybe it was all the synthesizers, but something about New Wave music brought out the automaton in everybody. Gary Numan (new man – get it? Like an android!) offered non-emotional vocals and looked like a department store mannequin, but it was the very human drums and tambourine that kept this record moving until the end when the synthesizers threaten and then take over. 

94: Moms Mabley –•– Abraham, Martin and John — (Peaked: July 19, 1969 at # 35)      

93: Pigmeat Markham –•– Here Comes the Judge — (Peaked: July 27, 1968 at # 19)       

Possibly spurred by the late-career success of Redd Foxx, a handful of entertainers who spent most of their lives working the ‘chitlin’ circuit’ of nightclubs and theaters that catered to black audiences found themselves nearly in the mainstream of popular entertainment. Moms Mabley left her raunchy nightclub act to become a semi-regular on the Merv Griffin Show and at 75 was the oldest living person to make the Billboard Top 40, croaking a melancholy “Abraham, Martin and John.” When Sammy Davis Jr. (who began as a child tap dancer on the chitlin’ circuit) used the “Here Comes the Judge” line on Laugh-In, he was recalling an old Pigmeat Markham comedy routine and creating a new national catch-phrase overnight. Markham, 64, was rushed into the studio to capture the moment with some Jurassic Period rap. 

92: Victor Lundberg –•– An Open Letter to My Teenage Son — (Peaked: December 2, 1967 at # 10)     

Surely a hit on VFW hall jukeboxes, with “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” swelling behind him, moonlighting newscaster Victor Lundberg in a “conversation” with his long-haired son starts out sympathetic, before veering right and ending with a promise that if the kid burns his draft card, "burn your birth certificate at the same time. From that moment on, I have no son." Like a troublesome stomach virus, this record thankfully moved through the charts quickly. Three weeks after its debut, it peaked at #10. The next week it slipped to #22 and then it was gone. As might have been any kid whose father, looking to send some sort of message, played this on the family stereo. OK pop, and if you’re looking for me to throw out the garbage tonight, I’ll probably be halfway to Toronto. 

91: Jim Backus and Friend –•– Delicious — (Peaked: July 21, 1958 at # 40)

Listen as Mr. Magoo sits in a dark cocktail lounge plying his date with champagne.

 

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Two weeks of hell

If we survived these back-to-back Billboard charts from 43 years ago, quite possibly the worst, most annoying two weeks of popular music ever, there is hope for all of us. 

Here are the Billboard US Top 10 singles for the weeks ending July 23 and July 30, 1977. Ten years after the Summer of Love, this is your soundtrack to the Summer of the Son of Sam, playing across the nation as Reggie Jackson and Billy Martin were being pulled apart to keep from killing each other in the Yankee dugout.

1  LOOKS LIKE WE MADE IT –•– Barry Manilow
2  I JUST WANT TO BE YOUR EVERYTHING –•– Andy Gibb
3  DA DOO RON RON –•– Shaun Cassidy
4  I’M IN YOU –•– Peter Frampton
5  MY HEART BELONGS TO ME –•– Barbra Streisand
6  ANGEL IN YOUR ARMS –•– Hot
7  UNDERCOVER ANGEL –•– Alan O’Day
8  MARGARITAVILLE –•– Jimmy Buffett
9  DO YOU WANNA MAKE LOVE –•– Peter McCann
10  BEST OF MY LOVE –•– The Emotions

1  I JUST WANT TO BE YOUR EVERYTHING  - Andy Gibb
2  I’M IN YOU - Peter Frampton
3  LOOKS LIKE WE MADE IT - Barry Manilow
4  MY HEART BELONGS TO ME - Barbra Streisand
5  DA DOO RON RON  - Shaun Cassidy
6  BEST OF MY LOVE  - The Emotions
7  DO YOU WANNA MAKE LOVE  - Peter McCann
8  MARGARITAVILLE - Jimmy Buffett
9  (Your Love Has Lifted Me) HIGHER AND HIGHER  - Rita Coolidge
10  WHATCHA GONNA DO? - Pablo Cruise

These songs were ubiquitous that summer, like the heat and humidity. You heard them everywhere. In bars. Getting a hair cut. From a car driving by, a window open for someone to throw a half-eaten McDonald's hamburger out into the street. Maybe that's why as I first read these song titles, I wasn't so much reading them as I was silently singing them to myself. Two weeks of hell to haunt you forever. 

Friday, September 13, 2019


Burt and Ava visit Hackensack
The 1946 film The Killers is best known today as the movie that launched the careers of Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner. We can also definitively say it’s the only film noir set in New Jersey, mostly played out in the fictional town of Brentwood and the very real Hackensack. 
In the first ten minutes, Lancaster, as “the Swede,” gets gunned down by two hoods, leading an insurance investigator (played by the underrated Edmond O’Brien) to piece together why (back in the days when crime movies often substituted insurance investigators for detectives – O’Brien’s character even packs a gun in a shoulder holster).
O’Brien works for “Atlantic Casualty” and when he calls in to the home office from a pay phone, he asks the operator for a number in Newark. He later references Prudential as a company that might want his services if his boss won’t let him pursue the Swede case and later orders an assistant to pass on information to a reporter from “the Ledger.”
People are after the Swede because they believe he has the $250,000 stolen years ago in a payroll robbery at the Prentiss Hat Company in Hackensack. In a flashback, we see Lancaster and three other gang members lined up at the factory gate wearing faked employee badges – and because it’s 1946, they fit right in with the other employees, all white and all male. 
Like most film noirs (films noir?), the plot gets a little twisty, but a telegram to O’Brien from “Hackensack Fire Department Chief Kenney” marks a turning point in solving the case. 
The Prentiss Hat Company of Hackensack was strictly made up, but it had a real-life parallel in S. Goldberg’s Slipper Factory, built in 1896, and located on River Street behind the county courthouse and jail, once employed more than 600 people churning out 50,000 pairs of slippers a day. On summer days, all the loading dock doors were open, and you’d see (and hear) the machines punching out soles or stitching.
(And I know from bike rides past the plant and office supply deliveries I made in the seventies, that unlike the Prentiss Hat Company, Goldberg’s employees were mostly women and Hispanic).
An uncle liked to tell me that if I didn’t start concentrating on my grades, I’d be attending Goldberg’s Slipper College after high school. Big joke, although there were probably worse places I could have wound up. The factory was torn down in 2008, but today it’s known as SG Companies, a multi-national footwear and apparel corporation with factories and warehouses around the U.S. and Asia.
Here’s one other Burt Lancaster/Hackensack reference. In The Swimmer (1968), Lancaster plays a man with a fragile grasp on reality stranded in the suburbs. He looks up at the blue summer sky and marvels, “It’s beautiful, as if we’re on the bow of a ship – Lisbon, Naples, Istanbul,” to which a neighbor flatly adds, “Hackensack.”


Monday, July 29, 2019


Getting MAD

When the playground bully in the Oval Office recently called Pete Buttigieg, “Alfred E. Neuman,” it sent Buttigieg scrambling to Google. “I’d never heard of him,” the 37-year old admitted. “It must be a generational thing.”

For even a dope like the president, whose reading was likely limited to Playboy and Penthouse (and then only for the pictures) to know who Alfred E. was, speaks to MAD’s pervasiveness in society over the decades.

Like reading The Catcher in the Rye or listening to punk rock, you had to be the right age to discover MAD. Written and drawn by the “usual gang of idiots” as they described themselves, the staff was made up of primarily New York, liberal-minded Jewish guys who helped generations question not only authority, but popular culture, politics, society and (especially) Madison Avenue.

MAD’s worldview was progressive and bipartisan. Corporations were mostly evil. Cigarette advertising was worse. Most TV shows were idiotic. Politicians were not to be trusted. Parents were loving, but often clueless. MAD never spoke down to its readers. While I had the impression that its staff, all children of the fifties (and forties), never got the Beatles, when it came time to parody them, Ringo was the obvious target in this gentle, gender-bending Breck girl ad:



From the days when MAD was still a comic book and not a magazine, it published one its sharpest satires, Mickey Rodent, which had Mickey, jealous that Darnold Duck was stealing the limelight, selling out his feathered pal to a zoo; all the characters questioning why they always wore gloves, and Pluto holding signs asking why, of all the animals in Dizzy Land, he was “chosen to remain mute.” Talk about questioning authority. And still funny.



New issues of MAD will disappear from newsstands before the end of the year. I pretty much stopped reading the magazine in the mid-Seventies when it was parodying TV shows I’d never seen and ads for products I wasn’t familiar with. It was time for younger kids to move up to MAD and for me to step away. National Lampoon was there to fill the void, followed by Saturday Night Live and, much later, Spy magazine and The Onion.

Twenty years ago, I tried to re-read Catcher in the Rye. It wasn’t working for me like it did when I was 13. I put the book down and gave it to my son. We all move on, which is just another way of saying, What, me worry?