1967: White Rabbit

Jefferson Airplane: White Rabbit

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As FiL reminded us, 1967 was the year that psychedelic music arrived, led by Magical Mystery Tour, but with many artists ready and able to follow. Alice in Wonderland was a natural reference point for a generation whose motto was, “tune in, turn on, drop out”. And no one expressed the Alice connection better than the Jefferson Airplane and lead singer Grace Slick, with White Rabbit. But of course, this is also a 1967 song that has endured, and that means that it has been played to death. So I switched it up a bit. White Rabbit as usually heard has a running time of 2:30, and indeed, this version goes silent at that point. But then the band comes back in without the vocals, and does an extended jam on the tune that extends the playing time by almost three more minutes. This is not the aimless noodling that jam bands are so often accused of these days; rather , this is a tightly imagined instrumental variation on a theme, with almost jazz-like flourishes. Amazon calls this the “mono single version”, which explains the sound quality. I don’t know how this version came to be. If any reader has that information, please share it in the comments. Thanks.

1967: Psychedelic Bandwagon Edition

Chad and Jeremy: Rest in Peace

[purchase]

The Hollies: The Maker

[purchase]

The Pretty Things: Defecting Grey

[purchase]

The Beau Brummels: Magic Hollow

[purchase]

1967 is a year that resonates strongly with me, even though I wasn't born until the following year. As others have mentioned a lot of great music was released that year.

It was the year psychedelic rock went mainstream, and there was no shortage of groups jumping on the bandwagon. Here are four groups who donned kaftans, dug up sitars, and went all day-glo on us for a year.

1967: Sock It To Me, Baby!

Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels: Sock It To Me, Baby!

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I'm not actually around; I'm in Detroit and posting this through time slip.

In honor of this, I'm sharing a 1967 hit by Detroit homeboys, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels. In my fuzzy memories of the 60s, I remember that it was much easier for local groups to get airplay on the radio. Mitch was pretty popular there. Here. You know what I mean.

I never quite caught some of the lyrics to this song, and the ones my sister confided to me that he was singing were 1) not included in any version Mitch actually recorded, and 2) pretty obscene.

1967: In the Dark

Nina Simone: In the Dark

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So far, our survey of 1967 has focused on male rock and pop singers. I’m using the terms “rock” and “pop” as broadly as possible, and we could stay in that vein and still present an amazing week, because there is plenty of material. Partly, that’s because the music business was very different in those days. Where a major artist now might make an album every three years, in 1967 The Beatles made two classic albums, and that put them behind the pace. Nina Simone made three albums that year, and that was the norm.

In presenting Nina Simone, one might think that I am turning my attention to the year in jazz. That was indeed what I originally had in mind, and Simone is rightly considered one of the greats of jazz. But Simone’s second album of 1967 caught my eye. It’s called Nina Simone Sings the Blues. One of the amazing things about Simone was her ability to sing masterfully in so many different styles, and here she showed herself to be a fine blues singer. To me, In the Dark is much more a blues song than jazz, and Simone approaches it that way. The darkness in this song focuses senses other than sight, particularly hearing and touch. Simone took that idea, and created one of the most sensual pieces of music I have ever heard.

1967: Omaha

Moby Grape: Omaha

[purchase]

1967 was indeed one of the better rock years. My esteemed collegue Geoviki already mentioned several groundbreaking albums below, and I could add at least twenty more. But I'll lift out just one that has always been especially dear to me: Moby Grape's eponymous debut. A remarkably consistent psychedelic masterpiece with countryrock and folk influences, it should have been a huge succes. But as their record company overhyped the band, releasing five singles at once, and their manager meant trouble, too, this was sadly not to be. Moby Grape only reached #24 on the Billboard album charts. As a consolation prize, it is now widely regarded as an influential classic. "Listen, my friends..."

1967: One-Hit Wonder Version

The Music Explosion: Little Bit O' Soul

[purchase]

The Soul Survivors: Expressway To Your Heart

[purchase]

The Five Americans: Western Union

[purchase]

The Chambers Brothers: Time Has Come Today

[purchase]

I agree with Darius: the music from 1967 made a huge impact on me. I was old enough to really start to "get" it, I think, and spent a lot of hours listening to the radio, mostly.

Dozens of hugely influential albums were released in 1967, and this post would be pages long if I even tried to touch on half of them. The Beatles released both Sgt. Pepper's and Magical Mystery Tour, The Doors had a double header, too, with The Doors and Strange Days, as did Jimi Hendrix with Are You Experienced? and Axis: Bold As Love. Cream, Jefferson Airplane, Pink Floyd, The Who, Velvet Underground, Big Brother and the Holding Company…

I can't pick even a single song from these terrific albums without feeling overwhelmed. Instead, I'm going for one hit wonders, but ones that I particularly am fond of. It makes me want to dig out my Nehru dress and granny glasses! Groovy, man.

1967: Ha! Ha! Said The Clown

Manfred Mann: Ha! Ha! Said The Clown

[purchase]

This was one of my mother’s records (I still have it, with the sleeve pictured above). She had a few singles I loved when I was a little lad of four, five, six. Gilbert Bécaud’s “Natalie” was another. The Peels “Juanita Banana”. Jane Birkin’s orgasm feast (my mom either didn’t know or didn’t care that I was playing it; not that I would have known why the lady was making these funny noises). Al Martino’s “Spanish Eyes”. Chris Andrews’ “Pretty Belinda”. And, of course, all manner of German stuff, what with us being Germans. But “Ha! Ha! Said The Clown” was my favourite.

Of course a small kid will be attracted by the idea of a song about clowns, especially laughing ones (the kid need not be aware that the protagonist wanted to bang the wife of the clown). But two other things attracted me to the record: the cover, with a rather cute little girl, and the Fontana label, with the record company’s rather excellent logo. I had an interest in record labels as soon as my love affair with vinyl began. And the Fontana one appealed to me greatly. I loved all black labels, it seems (though on the UK release, the label is blue). The song itself is brilliant; it features the flute, whistling and a bass drum!

1967: White Summer

The Yardbirds (Jimmy Page): White Summer

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The British blues-rock group The Yardbirds launched the careers of three terrific guitarists: Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, and Jimmy Page. For the longest time, I had mistaken this instrumental tune for a Jeff Beck song, and couldn't ever find it again as a result. But after decades, I learned the truth and now can share it properly.

Based on the Celtic melody of "She Moved Thro' The Fair", Page blended his arrangement with an Indian raga, which was a popular genre in 1967 (The Beatles were doing the same; for example, Baby, You're a Rich Man; Eric Burden, too, with When I Was Young). It first appears as a Yardbirds tune on their final LP, Little Games, but Page often played it live with Black Mountain Side during his Led Zeppelin days.

1967: The Supernatural

John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers: The Supernatural

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I grew up in a small town. The only merchant in town was a general store that did not sell records. The nearest town of any size was five miles away. And, in 1967, I was seven years old. Yet, I heard many of the newest rock albums the day they were released. How? My oldest brother was twelve, and that nearby town had a Woolworth’s that sold records. They were very inexpensive by today’s standards, even adjusting for inflation. And my brother had a talent for begging my mother to take him into town the day the new albums came out. So I was naturally steeped in the blues-rock of the day, especially what was coming out of England. But not John Mayall. The music of John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers was something I had to go back for years later.

As 1967 dawned, Eric Clapton had left the Bluesbreakers for Cream. His replacement was Peter Green. In addition to Mayall, the other long term member of the band was bass player John McVie. Drummer Mick Fleetwood did not play on Mayall’s new album, A Hard Road, but Fleetwood did play on some of the sessions that were discarded, and he also played some live dates with the group. The Supernatural was one song that Peter Green wrote for the Bluesbreakers, and it may sound familiar. By 1969, Green and McVie would leave the Bluesbreakers to form Fleetwood Mac with Mick Fleetwood and Jeremy Spencer. Green would rework The Supernatural, adding lyrics and vocals, and tweaking the instrumental part. The result was Black Magic Woman.

War and Memory: Children’s Crusade

Sting: Children‘s Crusade

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I can’t say that I know all of the reasons this was such a slow week here, but I do know one reason. Our own Boyhowdy lives in Monson MA, which you may know was hit by a tornado on Friday. He and his family are fine now. Boyhowdy responded to this disaster in heroic fashion, with some of his best writing and by sharing music on his own blog, Cover Lay Down. I know our readers will wish him this best as Monson struggles to regain a sense of normalcy. And I know that I can speak for my fellow Star Makers in adding our best wishes to those.

Meanwhile, I do have one last song for our War and Memory theme. Children’s Crusade is Sting’s take on World War I, a subject Geovicki spoke of so eloquently in her last post. The Great War, as it was called, has left a deep scar on Western culture, particularly in Europe. About 70 years later, Sting is still writing a song about it. Sting equates the loss of young lives in the war to the legendary “children’s crusade” of 1212. According to the legend, tens of thousands of children responded to the visions of a young boy by committing to a journey to the Holy Land to peacefully convert Muslims to Christianity. They marched to the Mediterranean Sea, where they were taken by two unscrupulous sea captains to Tunisia, and sold as slaves. End of Story. So it plays out as a tale of a sacrifice of Holy Innocents, and that is the parallel that Sting wants to draw. That is also what the references to slavery in the lyrics are about.

War and Memory: And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

Eric Bogle: And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

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World War 1 was one of the first modern wars, with its reliance on twentieth-century technology such as machine guns, chemical gases, tanks, telephones and wireless communication, and airplanes. All of the world's great powers of the day were involved, with over 70 million military personnel (including my grandfather). Nine million were killed and many more wounded, like the soldier in this song.

This song, written by Scottish-Australian Eric Bogle in 1971, describes the horror of the Battle of Gallipoli (Turkey), where the combined Australian, New Zealand, and British army suffered a bloody defeat by the Turks. It's a descriptive and bitter recollection of the battle, its cost in human life, and the ultimate pointlessness of war.

War and Memory: Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town

Mel Tillis: Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town

[Out of print, it seems]

“Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town” was a hit for Kenny Rogers and The New Edition in 1969 at the height of the Vietnam War, and so was perceived by many to be about that conflict. When country singer Mel Tillis, who wrote the song, first released it in January 1967, the “old crazy Asian war” he was referring to was the Korean conflict of the early 1950s.

The storyline is simple: a man returned from doing his “patriotic chore” without his legs, and his wife Ruby is sleeping with other men while he is cooped up at home. And she doesn’t care about how he feels at all. No wonder he has fantasies of putting Ruby into the ground.

Tillis, who released the song in January 1967, said he based the lyrics on a couple in his neighbourhood. In real life, the man was wounded in Germany in Word War 2, not in Korea. Tillis spared us the bitter end of the story: the ex-GI killed his straying wife and then himself.

Mel Tillis re-recorded the song in 1976 with an outstanding banjo solo. It is worth seeking out.

Song Chain => War and Memory: Born in the USA

Richard Shindell: Born in the USA

[purchase]

From transformative covers of songs with California in the titles, it’s not hard to get to another transformative cover. This one also kicks off a week of songs about people affected by wars, both soldiers and those who waited for them at home. It’s all in honor of Memorial Day, but I hope this theme resonates for our readers in countries other than the United States as well.

Here then, is Richard Shindell’s version of Bruce Springstein’s Born in the USA. The lyric presents a portrait of a man who served in Vietnam, and now he is trying to make it as a civilian, while still holding on to the memories of the men he served with. Springstein’s original recording was a rock anthem, and people latched onto it as a patriotic song. But for me, Shindell’s version does a better job of focusing on the lyric, and therefore brings the protagonist to life more vividly. Springstein is an artist I have a great admiration for, but this is one time when his performance did not best serve his lyric. I’m sure any number of Springstein fans will disagree with me in the comments; I would ask that you do so respectfully.

Song Chain: California Dreamin'

This photo of California Dream Inn is courtesy of TripAdvisor.

Eddie Hazel: California Dreamin'

[purchase]

The last song was a fast cover of a mid-tempo song about California. This one's a slow cover of a mid-tempo song about California (or at least about wanting to be in California).

Eddie Hazel, mostly known as a guitarist in the P-Funk army, only released one solo album during his lifetime, 1977's Games, Dames, and Guitar Thangs. From it comes this slow-burn take on the Mamas & Papas hit.

Song Chain: Hotel California

The Gipsy Kings: Hotel California

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Spanish guitar? Makes me think of this familiar, yet not, cover of the Eagles hit.

The Gipsy Kings are a pop-rhumba-flamenca group hailing from France, although their heritage is Spanish Romani. And this beautifully arranged song is from the soundtrack to The Big Lebowski. It's got one of the best intros ever.

Song Chain: That World Outside

Mink Deville: That World Outside

[purchase]

I must have heard You Don’t Own Me before, because I saw Dirty Dancing when it came out in the theaters. But I don’t remember the song, so rediscovering it here was a pleasure indeed. Starting with that great growly sax sound, and continuing with swelling strings done right, even into the doo-wop backing vocals, Own Me was great. Many of these same musical elements can be found in the music of Mink Deville, and I offer That World Outside as an example. Here is that growly sax again, and the swelling romanticism. The Spanish guitar on this one is a special bonus. This link in the chain then is all about feel.

Song Chain: You Don't Own Me

The Blow Monkeys: You Don't Own Me

[purchase]

It only took Boyhowdy's descriptive phrase: gender-bent folk rock offers just the right tone of righteous, defiant anger to trigger a bunch of entries that I thought would fit in our chain. You see, I collect genderbending songs. Aaaaaaand, I think that's all I'll say about that. ;)

Actually , I'm spoiled for choice here. Two runners up were Cam Clarke's Son of a Preacher Man or The Czars Where the Boys Are. But the clear winner for "defiant anger" has to be this Lesley Gore cover from 1987's soundtrack to Dirty Dancing.

Song Chain: Beautiful

Clem Snide: Beautiful (Christina Aguilera cover)

[purchase]

For me, the song chain challenge is no challenge at all, but rather the way my mind works anyway. I am, after all, the product of the very last vinyl-to-tape generation - and so, letting the mind open to the possibility of the next natural song is merely an echo of an earlier era, spent on the floor at my father's vast and varied record collection, where - in order to ensure that no silence interrupted a good evening of listening, or perhaps merely to make sense of the mix tape creation process - the three minutes listening to one song could be used wisely to search for another, so as to have it waiting for the switch-out with little more fuss than the lift and slide, the slide and drop.

Such quick-changes can come from anywhere, of course - which is to say, most chains, and most mixtapes, do not use the same sort of connection between one pair of songs and the next. Today, for example, we've gone from a titular connection to one of narrative meaning, and an antithetical one at that - for after seeing this afternoon's post of "Oh, Pretty Woman", this song came to mind, mostly, because Christina Aguilera's hit "Beautiful" always seemed like a kind of reclamation of the feminine mind from the objecthood which Roy Orbison's chart-topper imposes on the gender...and Clem Snide's grungy, gender-bent folk rock offers just the right tone of righteous, defiant anger against the femme-flattening two-dimensionality which so plagues the patriarchal society, even today.

Song Chain: Oh, Pretty Woman

Roy Orbison: Oh, Pretty Woman

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Okay, I'll get this started, and say obvious song is obvious. I saw Darius's title and thought it was actually this song, so this post is all about making mistakes at first glance.

When I was young, in 1965 when this song came out, I couldn't tell the difference between Roy Orbison and Elvis Presley, so I thought it was an Elvis song.

I always think this song is titled "Pretty Woman" but it's got an "Oh," in front of it.

And my picture of that pretty woman? Is a guy. That's J-Rocker Kaya, who looks way better than I do in makeup.

Show Tunes => Song Chain: Pretty Women

Peabo Bryson: Pretty Women

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Welcome to our Song Chain theme. This is a musical version of the old word association game, where one person thinks of a word, and the next person says the first word that comes into their head. So I hope this week is as much fun for our readers as I believe it will be for my fellow Star Makers and me.

Geovicki completely surprised me with her post of songs from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. First of all, I knew Hedwig had been a movie, but I didn’t know that it was a stage show first. And then, she took a Show Tunes theme, and found a way to include a J-pop artist. So the connections to this post are that I am concluding our Show Tunes theme, and I am offering a surprise.

Pretty Women comes from Sweeney Todd, and it’s no surprise that someone covered Sondheim, or that it was done as jazz. But I have never heard Peabo Bryson singing jazz before, and he does it very well. And he is working with Herbie Hancock, of all people. The combination works beautifully.