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

I’ve cashed in my 401K’s, divorced my wife, abandoned the little league and left my kids for a hermitage in the Idaho panhandle. I’ve furnished it with a cot from an abandoned Benedictine monastery, a table from Goodwill, a single light bulb stolen from a gas station restroom and an wireless card from T-Mobile.

It’s still very cold here in Northern Idaho. I’m burning antique copies of Creem magazine for heat, eating peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars for sustenance. When spring comes, I’ll forage for edible plants and acorns left behind by the squirrels. I’m dressed like Cass Elliot, wearing a haircut like Devendra Banhart.

I’m on a mission. Before I die, I’ll catalog the entire 35,000 songs recorded by Hal Blaine. I drink gallons of green tea, sprinkle No-Doz on my sandwiches and write 17 hours a day. I’ll have no conjugal visits. I’ll be 62 years old when I finish this project; it’ll all be worth it.

In California, ’round about 1966, everyone was happy. The sun shone bright as a model’s smile. The landscape was dotted cozy new homes, with barbecues and lawn gnomes. The air smelled of jasmine and orange blossoms and new car interiors.

In California, ’round about 1966, Hal Blaine was happy, too. In his late 30’s, he was the superstar’s superstar. Brian Wilson’s first call drummer; John Phillips first call drummer; the back beat for everyone from Sinatra to Simon and Garfunkel. Hits rolled from his kit like paradiddles from a drum corps practice room.

He pounded out quarter notes for The Mama’s and The Papa’s as they Saw Her Again Last Night, the progeny of a Nelson Riddle soundstage and Phil Spector recording studio. He created the lilting march of Monday, Monday and built the four-on-the-floor swing of the ultimate West Coast sunshine song, California Dreamin’. The DOT built the highways, GM built the cars but The Wrecking Crew built the soundtrack.

Out with the brushes, all swish and sizzle, a world-renowned hit immediately. Funny. Sinatra called Strangers In The Night “the worst song I ever fucking heard”.

When it came to swish and sizzle, though, no one could come close to Nancy. The original sex pistol in plastic Boots, a fashion idol straight from Sugar Town. Her boots were made for walking; Hal’s sticks were made for playing.

But what those beautiful Beach Boys? Not the ones who were riding their sports cars and dating the Nancy Sinatra look-a-likes. The real Beach Boys, the ones who were creating California!

Well, some of the were dating the beach bunnies, which is why Blaine was called to the fore by Brian Wilson. We’ll presume he didn’t play the ashtrays on Barbara Ann but, otherwise, he owned Sloop John B and, arguably, the most beautiful pop song of all time, Good Vibrations.

There’s more, of course, but why tarry with words? The music defines itself.

The Association - Along Comes Mary
Bobby Darin - If I Were A Carpenter
Bob Lind - Elusive Butterfly
Simon and Garfunkel - Homeward Bound
Johnny Rivers - Poor Side of Town
Simon and Garfunkel - I Am A Rock
Beach Boys - Wouldn’t It Be Nice

Inspired by IB at Art Decade