Fusion 45

As much as I enjoyed listening and learning and sharing the genius of Hal Blaine through his Top 10 records of the 1960’s, none of them had the significance in my life as these few songs from 1970. These six songs, to my ears, personify the best of pop music of the time.

Maybe I’m simply getting old and starting to sound like my Dad (who claimed that “no one before or since could sing like Peggy Lee”). Maybe it’s the immediate comfort I feel listening to them, being transported back to my youth when little but baseball and music much mattered. (Truth is, music and baseball, shared through and with my family, are still my great passions today). Maybe it doesn’t matter why I think these are six of the best ever.

Whatever the root, whatever the cause, here are the Top 10 songs Hal Blaine played on in 1970. Listen and love.

Simon and Garfunkel - Cecilia (#4)

I grew up in Upstate New York where it got really cold really early and stayed cold for a long time. Being addicted to sports of all kinds, I found things to do with my time: football until the snow was too deep to run in, street hockey on the side streets were they employed the all-natural “drive on it ’til it thaws” method of plowing. But, like Rogers Hornsby said, most of the winter was spent looking out the window waiting for spring. I distinctly remember throwing open the windows on an April afternoon and playing this full blast on my Sears stereo (that I’d bought with money from my paper route). I’m pretty good at transcribing drum tracks but, to this day, I still can’t figure out how they made this happen. There are hand claps and maracas at bar 3 and what sounds like quarter notes on the bass drum. Otherwise, I’m baffled. But, it’s spring and I’m opening the windows…

Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water (#1)

Maybe I should’ve written about this one first, being that it appears on the record before Cecilia.

My wife hates the “Desert Island Disc” game. She thinks it’s stupid: “I don’t live on a desert island and, even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be worried about what records I have. I’d be worried about how to get the hell off…”. It’s really surprising we’ve been happily married for so long.

I’m not a big fan of the game myself, truth be told. Not because I don’t have a list of records I’d take; it’s because there’s not a boat big enough to take all the records I would need.

But, I know this album and, specifically, this song would be the first on the list, hands down, no question. My older brother, a pianist, for whom I owe much of my earliest musical influence, used to play this song. The lyrics — “when you’re weary/feeling small/when tears are in your eyes/I’ll dry them all” — are so universally poignant. Art Garfunkel’s voice, like that of an angel, never before and never since has been as captivating. It embodies everything about the decade that had just passed: the end of the innocence of my brother and his friends, the need rather than the desire to lay down arms, the weariness that came with experiencing a lost — or seemingly lost — cause.

Musically, it starts so quietly and becomes so big. First, piano. Then, vibes. Then, crashing cymbals and explosions in the background. Then, the harmonies and the strings and the beating of the toms in the background, explosions all along the way. To this day, it still gives me chills every time I hear it.

The Carpenters - Close To You (#1)

I think wisdom is the ability to admit your childhood foibles — including the ones you commit as an adult — without embarrassment. As a somewhat geeky though, I’m told, cute kid, I was insanely jealous of some of the guys in school who I thought were better looking Better stated: I was jealous of the ones who had the ability to talk with girls as if they were actually human not beings from another planet. This song made me jealous…all those birds suddenly appearing whenever those guys walked into the room.

I remember seeing Karen Carpenter sitting behind a drum set, lip syncing this tune on the TV. I couldn’t understand why Hal Blaine was credited as the drummer. Was he dressed as Karen Carpenter? What I love about the drumming on this song is the sound of the toms…he hits them about 3 times through the whole song…and they sound perfect!

The Carpenters - We’ve Only Just Begun (#1)

I posted on this song recently as part of my 20 Guilty Pleasures list, saying it reminds me of my brother-in-law and a can of Coors beer. But, all bets are off when you listen to it with a “karaoke ear”. What I mean is this: close your ears to everything on the record except the drums. Great tom sound at :31; he gets way funky at :57 and I spent years trying to work out the exact timing of the breaks at 1:24 and 2:18. (He comes in on the “and” of “three” on the first break but the “and” of “two” in the second break. Bastard!).

Neil Diamond - Cracklin’ Rosie (#1)

I just realized who Crackin’ Rosie is: she’s a store-bought woman! Am I an idiot?

Being that my first knowledge of Neil Diamond came with (ugh) Jonathon Livingston Seagull, it’s still hard to believe he was a sex symbol at one time. But, it’s true. Women in my sister’s group of grown-ups (now in their mid-50’s) got a real wiggle in their knickers when Neil sang “Oo, I love my Rosie child”. That and the guy who starred with Marcus Welby on that doctor show.

The 5th Dimension - One Less Bell To Answer (#2)

No one before or since could sing like Peggy Lee Marilyn McCoo.

Yes, that’s a picture of me, circa 1970, ready to score the next big hit. Hal, eat your heart out.

Namaste,
The Music Junkie at Fusion 45

Ah, 1969. Deep in the heart of being seven years old, oblivious to the struggles of love, money or power, scratching out 6’s and 7’s on that green paper with the really WIDE lines, relating to Bill Cosby’s take on childhood (”And now Richard will tie his tie”).

My Mom and Dad woke me up in the middle of the night to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon while my beloved New York Mets sent the earth into a new orbit by winning the World Series (after being 9 games out of first place in the middle of August).

Noted celebrities died and others took their place: Jennifer Anniston took over for Judy Garland, Linus Torvolds stepped in for Mies van der Rohe and Ike stepped aside so Matthew Perry could take the spotlight.

While riots broke out in Watts and love broke out at Woodstock, the Wrecking Crew did their best to make the world safe for pop music.

Henry Mancini - A Time For Us (Love Theme from “Romeo and Juliet”)

This was one of my favorite songs at the time, probably because my piano-playing older brother (who was off to college that year) would play it for me when he came home to visit. I never got further than the right hand melody, myself.

Tommy Roe - Dizzy

Tommy Roe - Jam Up, Jelly Tight

“Dizzy” is still in hot rotation around our house, part of the Autunes collection. What a great big booming lovely reverbial drum sound. (I used the expression “Jam Up, Jelly Tight” one night at the dinner table and got the classic “curious dog” look from my five-year old.)

Gary Puckett - Young Girl

Gary Puckett - This Girl Is A Woman Now

“Cousin Dupree” before is could be stated that obviously.

[Errata: "Young Girl" is actually '68. "This Girl Is A Woman Now" is '69. Funny, the same comment still applies.]

Neil Diamond - Holly Holy

Say what you will about the sad fate of Neil Diamond: this was one sexy, soulful record. I remember buying the single and playing it over and over. It all came back to me when I listened again last night.

Glen Campbell - Galveston

An original Wrecking Crew guitarist in front of the Wrecking Crew doing a Jimmy Webb tune. Brilliance guaranteed.

The Fifth Dimension - Wedding Bell Blues

The Fifth Dimension - Aquarius

Aforementioned big brother is named Bill. I was pretty sure this song was talking about him.

And, while once taking a trip to see said brother at college, I soothed our restless German Shepherd, Bootsy, in the back of the station wagon by singing “Aquarius” over and over for about 4 hours. Didn’t soothe my Dad, though.

Would it be a stretch to suggest that The Fifth Dimension was, in a way, the manifestation of all the efforts of the Civil Rights movement: black singers, a white songwriter, a mixed bag of nationalities in the band singing about a new age dawning? Maybe, but we’ll keep hoping.

Namaste,
Music Junkie at Fusion 45

Richard Harris – MacArthur Park (#5)

According to Paul Zollo’s interview with Jimmy Webb (in the book “Songwriters on Songwriting”), MacArthur Park was invented “in Bones Howe’s head”. Howe asked Webb to write something “classical” for The Association. When they passed on Mac Park, it went “into the trunk,” Webb says, until Richard Harris invited him to London to make a record. Harris basically picked MacArthur Park from a stack of songs and the rest is history. (Interestingly, my post several months ago entitled “Richard Harris Is A God To Me” generates more Viagra spam than any other post I’ve done.)

For Blaine, MacArthur Park is the perfect palette, blending the orchestral chops of his soundtrack work with the rock and roll groove of The Beach Boys.

I heard my favorite version of this song just once. I was standing backstage at Broadway Junior High School in Elmira, NY. I was probably 12 or 13, listening to the stage band from the high school play an instrumental version. I watched the drummer, Steve Nixon, playing the fast part at the end and thought: “That’s really cool”. Steve later became a good friend in high school, helped me through some hard times and then, a few years after graduation, because a true acid casualty by stepping in front of an eighty mile-per-hour train.

The Association – Everything That Touches You (#10)

Like many kids growing up in the 1970’s, a good share of my indoor wintertime was spent with the neighborhood kids, playing air-guitar tennis rackets and beating the bed pillows with drumsticks. My best friend at the time, Deke Forrest, insisted on playing the tennis racket left-handed (because that the way Paul did it) and tapping his foot (because that’s the way George did it). I was disappointed he didn’t work John and Ringo in somehow.

There’s a certain understated funkiness to the rhythm track on this song. Blaine slips into the pocket, reprises his Mamas and Papas vibe and takes it home. (I saw The Association perform this at the Chemung County Fair around 1970-ish; my very first rock concert.)

Gary Puckett – Young Girl (#2)

Even though I was 6 years old when this came out, I understood clearly what Gary was singing about. This song (plus “Lady Willpower” and “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy”) was one of the first singles I owned. I spent hours listening to these songs, dissecting the horn, string and vocal parts. Obviously I’m regressing back to six years old. I’m wondering on how many songs Blaine straight fours on the snare drum (and somehow never sounded the same twice).

The Grass Roots – Midnight Confessions (#5)

This one features more straight fours but not before he did the great opening couple of bars. Nice snare fill at the end of the first chorus, too. If you think it’s simple, just transcribe it and play it and see how close you come to the groove, eh?

Kenny Rogers and The First Edition – Just Dropped In (To What Condition My Condition Is In) (#5)

So 60’s, so psychedelic! Kenny Rogers was so c-o-o-l back then with his long vest and fringed hair (or maybe it was the other way around). And he had yet to go country and make several kabillion dollars. Close your ears to the music (which is seriously flower-powered out, complete with vibraphone) and dig Blaine’s track. It’s totally funky.

Simon and Garfunkel – Mrs. Robinson (#1)

In my mind, the movie and the soundtrack to “The Graduate” are the 1960’s. I don’t know what Blaine played on this record but it never ceases to amaze me how the song just keeps pushing forward. I think the most that came out of the drum set were hi-hats on 2 and 4 during the chorus. Seemed to be enough…

The Fifth Dimension – Stoned Soul Picnic (#3)

It’s going toward 5PM on a Sunday afternoon. It’s a breezy 81 degrees. The backyard is looking like an oasis after a full day of gardening. The boys are hitting whiffle balls off the back deck, my wife is napping, my daughter is playing school. It’s a stoned soul picnic. A great groove from HB…

The Vogues – Turn Around Look At Me (#7)

Sometime in the late 60’s, my high school aged brother bought a jukebox. Don’t know why but I thought it was totally cool. It had “Windy” by The Association, “Silence Is Golden” by The Tremeloes, “I Love You” by People (which I just recently found on a 45) and this one. It sat in our garage for a few years, I played it a lot and then Dad got sick of moving the lawn mower around it and sold it for $20. Trip-o-let, trip-o-let, bah bah bah…

The Vogues – My Special Angel (#7)

While hippies were changing the world, Hal Blaine and The Wrecking Crew were helping to maintain the pop status quo…straight from the 50’s songbook…but a Top 10 hit nonetheless.

In 1966, the world’s greatest pop band, The Beach Boys, forever changed rock and roll. Instead of giving the world another gilded album of musical chocolates, each song individually wrapped in ocean colored tin foil, they buried their music in a mix of motor oil and sand. They produced an album, a “concept” album called Pet Sounds, that said to the world: “behind the orange grove lushness of our harmonies, there is emotional dissonance, a “meaning” behind it all that needs to be unearthed”.

In 1967, The Beatles finished what The Beach Boys started by recording “Sgt. Pepper”. Beneath the jouncy melodies and rainbow candies, “Sgt. Pepper” is a disturbing trip through a dark, psychedelic jungle. The transformation was complete. The fissure between Us and Them yowled in the night and began to swallow up our world culture.

In the US column, free love, no war, a new zeitgeist. In the THEM column, patriotism, solidity and a future in plastics. In 1967, Woody Guthrie and John Coltrane died (conferring them from living Gods to immortal deities), Andy Warhol changed soup cans into art and created his 15-minutes of fame and the Grammy committee was incubating its uncoolness by calling “Strangers In The Night” the Best (Fucking) Record of The Year.

From the insipid samba of “Something Stupid” to the sarcastic shuffle of “Words of Love,” he’s neither Us nor Them. He stands solidly between two poles, his hands uniting the fearful Zen of “Let’s Live For Today” with the careless sunshine of “Windy” and “Up Up And Away”. What could be more unifying in the year of Us and Them than to hear white (Johnny Rivers) sing black (The Miracles)? What could be more significant of pop music oneness than for a Motown group (The Supremes) to record a decidedly West Coast song (The Happening)? We all know that music unifies, don’t we…until we decide to segregate it.

The Mama’s And The Papa’s Words Of Love

The Fifth Dimension Up, Up And Away

The Supremes The Happening

The Association Windy

The Association Never My Love

The Monkees A Little But Me, A Little Bit You

The Mamas And The Papas Dedicated To The One I Love

Johnny Rivers Tracks of My Tears

Johnny Rivers Baby I Need Your Loving

Bobby Vee Come Back Baby When You Grow Up

Frank And Nancy Sinatra Something Stupid

Grass Roots Let’s Live Today

A remix of #42 with a few changes.

Ohio Players - Runnin’ From The Devil (Mercury)
Tower of Power - (To Say The Least) You’re The Most (WB)
Marvin Gaye - T Plays It Cool (Tamla)
The Fifth Dimension - Sunshine of Your Love (Soul City)
Crackin’ - Well and Good (WB)
Gil Scott-Heron - It’s Your World (Arista)
Rahsaan Roland Kirk - Donna Lee (Atlantic)
Jackson Five - I Want You Back (Motown)
Quincy Jones - Manteca (A and M)
Earth Wind and Fire - In The Stone

<a href=”http://www.fusion45.com/wp-content/uploads/audio/2007/Fusion45.043-2007.08.16.mp3″>Oddio remix</a>