Music Sunday: The "I've been off reading music books" edition

So.

Due to unforeseen and unavoidable circumstances, I was mostly away from Music Sunday for a couple of weeks. But, I'm back, and in the meantime I've been reading books about music.

No, really. Since the middle of January I've read four music-related books and am now working my way through the fifth. The ones I've finished reading are:

1) 27: A History of the 27 Club Through the Lives of Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse, by Howard Sounes (2013, Da Capo Press; 359 pages)
2) Lennon: The Man, the Myth, the Music - The Definitive Life, by Tim Riley (2011, Hyperion; 765 pages)
3) Ticket to Ride: Inside the Beatles 1965 Tour that Changed the World, by Larry Kane (2003, Running Press; 272 pages)
4) Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood, by Eric Burdon with J. Marshall Craig (2001, Thunder's Mouth Press; 326 pages)

And right now I'm reading Beatles vs. Stones, by John McMillian (2013, Simon and Schuster; 304 pages).

These are all good books, although I suspect that Sounes just wrote 27 so that he could write about Amy Winehouse. Still, he does a good job covering the lives and deaths of the other 27 Club members that he highlights. Riley's book is long, but it is comprehensive, perhaps a little too comprehensive in its detail about recording sessions, but that is a minor quibble. I very much liked the way that Riley seemed to go out of his way to not forgive the times that Lennon acted like an ass, but also gave context as to why he might have been acting that way and also related that Lennon also had times when he was kind and generous and thoughtful. I've read other biographies of Lennon and have found that some writers either try to make him a saint or make him a demon when in fact he seems to have been a very complicated man. Kane's book was more historical in nature and, despite the title, covers both the 1964 and 1965 American tours (he was the only American journalist who traveled with the band the full length of both tours). He also goes out of his way to show that the members of the Beatles were full human beings rather than cutout cardboard figures. He didn't try to whitewash flaws out of existence, but he didn't try to portray any of them, or the support staff who toured with them, as completely flawed. And Burdon's memoir...well, it must have been good, because I more or less read it in one sitting. It seems to jump around in time a lot, but that is a minor quibble. I like that he doesn't approach his life the way some rock stars do, trying to play down the adventures and misadventures of their lives, but plainly says, "these are the things I did, and I might regret some of them now but I'm not going to deny them at this point."

The book I'm reading now, Beatles vs. Stones, is more academic in tone, but that's to be expected since McMillian is an historian and an assistant professor of history at Georgia State University. So far (and I'm on page 109 at the moment) it seems to me he's leaning more toward being as Stones fan than a Beatles fan even though he declines in his introduction to say which band he favors although he admits that he does have "a preference for one group over the other" (p. 5).

At any rate, these books highlight the lives of people who have made some classic music, and since it is Music Sunday, of course I'm going to share some if it with you. I will say that I have probably shared some of these songs before, but all these people have made music that stands up (I think) to repeated listenings.

But, I'm going to start out with something I know I haven't share before, because I didn't know it existed until a couple of days ago. Anyone who grew up in the 1970s probably knows the Three Dog Night version of Randy Newman's "Mama Told Me Not To Come". That 1970 cover went to number one on the Billboard Hot 100. But the first recording of the song was by Eric Burdon and the Animals in 1966, although it was never released as a single and ended up on the 1967 album "Eric is Here", and the band playing behind Burdon is not the Animals, but the Horace Ott Orchestra. This original version is edgier than the more commercial-sounding Three Dog Night version:



Here's a live performance of "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" from Burdon and the Animals at Wembley Empire Pool at the New Musical Express poll winners' concert on April 11, 1965:



I found a clip of the Beatles singing "All My Loving" at the Hollywood Bowl concert on their 1964 tour of the United States. This show took place on my 8th birthday, I lived in Southern California at the time, and even at the age of 8 I was very bitter that I didn't get to go to the concert:



One of the notable details in this early clip of a live Rolling Stones performance of "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" is that there look to have been a lot more males in the audience than in audiences for the Beatles' shows. And, if that young gentleman in the audience shown near the end of the song is any indication, some of them were as emotional about their favorite band as the girls were. This was the first single by the Rolling stones to go to number 1 in the United States:



Jim Morrison was not only a singer, but a poet as well. His poetry has gotten mixed reviews over the years, but I quite like some of the things he wrote. A few years after Morrison's death, the rest of the Doors got together and put some of his recorded poetry on record along with music. This cut from the resulting album, "American Prayer" (released 1978, with the spoken word parts recorded in 1969 and 1970), called "Stoned Immaculate", shows a crossover between what the Doors recorded as a band and what Morrison was doing with the written word:



Since I'm running out of room for today's post, I'll just end with this, my favorite Janis Joplin song. Don't get me wrong; I like all of her work. However, this song just seems...perfect. So, here is Janis, and "Mercedes Benz", from the album "Pearl" (1971):

Music Sunday: The "One Hit Wonders" Edition, Sixties Style

People tend to laugh at "one hit wonders". They even made a movie about these songs by singers or bands who are never heard from again, "That Thing You Do". Great movie.

But the truth is, some artists with these single hits are actually heard from again, in other guises, or in other bands, or all on their own. Some of them are even known before having that one hit for other things they do. And sometimes, they do only have one hit, but that one song makes an impression that lasts through the decades.

A surprising case in point: The Jimi Hendrix Experience was a one-hit wonder by the criteria generally used to determine hits. Only one single by Jimi Hendrix, no matter who he was working with, broke into the Top 40 in the United States. That was "All Along the Watchtower", which was written and performed by Bob Dylan, but is probably most identified with the cover on the Jimi Hendrix Experience album "Electric Ladyland", from 1968. It only hit number 20 on the US charts, but it was his highest charting single. The highest one of his singles charted otherwise in the US was when "Crosstown Traffic" rose to number 52, also in 1968.



Overall, Janis Joplin was not a one-hit wonder. On the other hand, she only had a part in two singles that hit the Top 40 in her short but illustrious career. In 1971, her cover of "Me and Bobby McGee" hit number one - and that was her only Top 40 hit as a solo artist. But before that, in 1968, she was part of the one hit Big Brother and the Holding Company had, "Piece of My Heart", which went to number 12. Here is a live performance of "Piece of My Heart":



The Buffalo Springfield is considered to have been a hugely influential band in the 60s and beyond, despite the fact that they were only together initially from 1966 to 1968, and only had one Top 40 hit. "For What It's Worth", written by Stephen Stills and released in late 1966, hit number 7 in the US in 1967. The closest the band ever came again to the Top 40 was when, later in 1967, "Rock'n'Roll Woman" went as high as number 44. But both Stills and Neil Young were part of the band, and both went on to have both solo hits and hits with Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Still, "For What It's Worth" has remained in the public consciousness despite being the only hit The Buffalo Springfield ever had. This performance is from the old Smother Brothers Comedy Hour, and features bonus silliness from Tommy Smothers:



Another one-hit wonder that reflected the upheaval of the Sixties was "Eve of Destruction", performed by Barry McGuire, which reached number 1 in 1965. I believe I've shared this particular performance of the song here before. It's still odd, and I still haven't quite figured out what the choreographer and set designer were thinking. It probably has something to do with the fact that this was on the television show "Hullabaloo" in 1965:



But, one-hit wonder or not, some songs take on a life of their own and, as shown in this live clip from 2001, Barry McGuire is still performing "Eve of Destruction" and still keeping it relevant:



On the other hand, some one-hit wonders weren't really relevant even when they were a hit. A case in point is Richard Harris's recording of "MacArthur Park" (1968) which reached number 2 on the US Top 40 charts. Yes, the actor, who concluded a long, successful career playing Albus Dumbledore in the first two Harry Potter films. Well, back in the Sixties he, like a lot of actors, harbored ambitions to be a pop singer. His only hit was "MacArthur Park", written by Jimmy Webb:



This version of "MacArthur Park" has been called the worst song ever recorded and, honestly, it isn't really very good. However, I can't in all good conscience call it the worst. I have, after all, heard Tiny Tim's "Tiptoe Through the Tulips", which, for my money, is much, much worse. Here is a performance of the song on "The Tonight Show" in 1968, the year it hit number 17 on the Top 40 in the United States:



Yikes. And apologies to my friend Terrance, who is a Tiny Tim fan. But, just...Yikes!

Music Sunday: The "1969 Revisited" Edition

Last month, I wrote about the Woodstock festival in 1969. Musically, at least, and maybe culturally, Woodstock stands at the height of what we know as "The Sixties" (not to be confused with the chronological decade of the 1960s, because the two really don't completely coincide). But, even had Woodstock never happened, 1969 would stand as an extraordinary year in music.

This is true for many reasons, and in many genres in music, but rock music had one of its best years in 1969. Crosby, Stills and Nash and Led Zeppelin each released their first album (and Led Zeppelin also released their second album). Janis Joplin released her first solo album. The Beatles released "Abbey Road", which wasn't well thought of critically then, but has since come to be regarded as one of their best, if not the best album they ever made. The Who released their rock opera, "Tommy". It was the year that Marvin Gaye recorded "I Heard it Through the Grapevine", Bob Dylan recorded "Lay Lady Lay", and Johnny Cash recorded "A Boy Named Sue". And it was the year that John Lennon and Yoko Ono held their "Bed-in for Peace" in Amsterdam and in Montreal. It was in Montreal where they recorded, on June 1, in their hotel and with a room-full of friends, "Give Peace a Chance":



Johnny Cash released "A Boy Named Sue", written by Shel Silverstein, into the world in 1969, at a time when country music was mostly seen as a southern phenomenon. Nonetheless, besides being a number-one song on the country charts in the United States, it reached number two on Billboard's Hot 100 and number one on the magazine's Adult Contemporary chart. Here is a live performance of the song that, from the looks of it, was recorded at one of Cash's prison shows:



The difference between this performance and the radio version of the song is that in the radio version, the phrase "son of a bitch" and the word "damn" near the end of the song were censored out. 1969 was a landmark year in many ways, but the powers that be were still convinced that the republic would collapse if someone said (or sang) a cuss-word over the public airwaves. Nevertheless, the song won both Best Country Song and Best Country Performance, Male, at the Grammy Awards in 1970, when the music of 1969 was honored.

One of the surprises on Janis Joplin's first solo album, "I Got Dem Ol' Kozmic Blues Again Mama!", is that she sings the Bee Gees song, "To Love Somebody". It just seems so unlikely. Yes, she has her own way with the song, as she did with every song she sang. As far as I'm concerned, she improved it greatly:



Blood, Sweat, and Tears' self-titled album was actually released in 1968 (and won Album of the Year at the 1970 Grammy Awards, as their deadlines for consideration are known to be slightly elastic), although my favorite song from the album was released in 1969. "Spinning Wheel" was written by the band's lead singer, David Clayton-Thomas. Here is the longer album version:



And now for something completely different...1969 was also the year that David Bowie released "Space Oddity". And, this is one of the things I like about the music released in 1969; it isn't all the same:



And, one more oddity, of a different kind, before I finish this up for the day: The Doors, with strings and horns. "Touch Me", from the album "The Soft Parade", was a bit of a departure. This live performance, from The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, if I'm not mistaken. There was some feeling among Doors fans at the time that this song, and the album, was sort of a sell-out by Jim Morrison and the band, but I like it:



There's so much more good music from 1969 that I would have liked to share here. Which means that there is probably another 1969 post somewhere, sometime in Music Sunday's future.

Music Sunday: The 1971 Edition

Last week, because I had been doing some research into the 1970s, I shared some of the music that came out the year I graduated high school. This week, since I'm still stuck in the Seventies in my research, I thought I'd skip back a few years from high school and share some of the music that came out in 1971, the year I graduated from junior high.

This is going to be tricky. I sat down and did a little research and started making a list of all the music that I really liked that came out in '71. Turns out, it's a long, long list. 1971 was a really good year for music, at least as far as I'm concerned. Oh, there were some clunkers and some schmaltz. If you're of that time, as I am, you'll remember "Tie A Yellow Ribbon" and "Knock Three Times", both by Tony Orlando and Dawn, for example, which were omnipresent on the radio. But the good (or at least what I liked) far outweighed the bad.

What this means is that I'm going to have a difficult time choosing what to share here today.

A few songs will be eliminated simply because I've shared them here before: "Stairway to Heaven", by Led Zeppelin and "Behind Blue Eyes", by The Who (which I'm really tempted to share again anyway, because it is brilliant, but I won't) are just two of those. But that still leaves me with a long list of good music that I'd really like to share.

I think I need to start with Janis Joplin's version of "Me and Bobby McGee", even though I'm fairly sure I've shared it here before, too. This song, which was written by Kris Kristofferson and Fred Foster, has been recorded by just about everyone in the music business over the years, but this is the definitive version, I think. It was recorded in 1970, shortly before Joplin died, but it wasn't released until 1971:



Another song from 1971 that I've always loved (and which I also might have shared before) is The Doors' "Riders on the Storm". Legend has it that it entered the Billboard Hot 100 on the day that Jim Morrison Died, July 3, 1971, and that it was the last song the four members of the band recorded together. I don't know how true any of that is. Either way, here it is:



In 1971, Elton John released the album "Madman Across the Water". It's a good album, but my favorite song among all the good songs it includes is "Tiny Dancer" which, incidentally, was part of "Almost Famous", a film I like a lot, too. Here is a live performance of "Tiny Dancer" from the year the song and the album were released:



Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" was a protest song that didn't sound like a protest song, musically speaking. It was reportedly inspired by police brutality witnessed by one of the song's writers, Reynaldo Benson, a member of The Four Tops, at an anti-war rally in Berkeley in 1969. Benson, Al Cleveland, and Gaye were credited with writing the song, which was named the fourth greatest song of all time by Rolling Stone magazine in 2004 and again in 2011. Here is a live performance of the song:



And here is another protest song, from what might be an unexpected source, Paul Revere and the Raiders. "Indian Reservation (The Lament of the Cherokee Reservation Indian)", which was first recorded in 1959 by Marvin Rainwater as "The Pale Faced Indian" and was written by John D. Loudermilk, memorializes the "Trail of Tears", the forced relocation of the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, and Seminole peoples from Georgia, Florida, Mississippi, and Alabama to Oklahoma after the passage of the Indian Removal Act of 1830. This song spent a week at number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in July, 1971:



Here, as a matter of historical interest and to show where the Raiders' song came from, is the Marvin Rainwater version:



This version didn't get much notice, but a 1968 cover by Don Fardon, who is English, managed to reach number 20 on the Billboard Hot 100. It is, as you can see, very much like the later version by the Raiders, although some of the lyrics are different from both the earlier and later versions:



And, yes, that is what is known as a tangent. It's interesting, however, to see the evolution of what is essentially the same song through the years.

To bring it back to 1971, which was where we started, here is Led Zeppelin in a live performance of "Rock and Roll", which was released as a single in 1972 but was released on their fourth album in 1971:

Music Sunday: The "Women Rock" Edition

I found a book at the library the other day, Rock Chronicles (Firefly Books, 2012; 576 pages), edited by David Roberts. Interesting book, and a valuable reference, as far as it goes. It's title, though, points up its limited nature: it includes what its editor and contributors consider rock acts. Purely pop acts are mostly missing, which serves to leave out most female acts. In a way, this makes sense. Of the 22 contributors to the volume, only one is a woman.

Well, rock has traditionally been a male stronghold. The men make the music, and the women are mostly relegated to minor roles when they have any role at all. There are exceptions, of course, which is the point I aim to make here today.

Looking through the book, I realized that I've been emphasizing male acts here on Music Sundays. That is difficult not to do, considering that the vast majority of acts, especially in the rock era, are made up predominantly of men. But, having noted the lack, I decided that today is a good day to highlight women in music.

I have to start with Janis Joplin, simply because she was so remarkable a singer. Probably best known for her recordings of "Me and Bobby McGee" and "Piece of My Heart", I really love her cover of "Summertime", here in a live performance in Stockholm in 1969:



Another remarkable performer, from another generation, is Pink. Pink can rock with the best of them and make on-point social comment at the same time, as here, in "Stupid Girls":



On occasion, women have taken a prominent place in bands. For example, who thinks about Fleetwood Mac without thinking about Stevie Nicks? Here, Nicks takes the lead on "Rhiannon" in a 1976 live performance on "The Midnight Special":



I might actually be sharing this next clip because I want to have ready access to it without having to hunt around for it on YouTube. However, I think it is a wonderful example of women, in this case Ann and Nancy Wilson, from Heart, taking a song written by men, for men to perform, and doing as good a job of performing it as anyone ever has and probably ever will. This is the performance of "Stairway to Heaven" from the recent Kennedy Center Honors tribute to Led Zeppelin:



Earlier, in the 1960s and 70s, women were active in the folk music scene, although, as always, the men got most of the recognition. Meanwhile, women like Joni Mitchell were writing and performing songs like "Both Sides Now" (which was a hit for Judy Collins) and "The Circle Game". Here is Mitchell performing both songs on Canadian television in 1968:



Of course, I've just scratched the surface here with examples of women in rock and folk and blues. I haven't even gotten to Motown yet, or to women in country music. I think I'll leave that for another Music Sunday. Goodness knows, the men have gotten and will get enough time in the spotlight here, as sthey do in the music industry generally.

Music Sunday: Summer Edition

It's summertime in the Northern Hemisphere. With a vengeance, at least here. It was 110 degrees F here yesterday and it is forecast to be 109 F today. That's just too hot as far as I'm concerned.

But, the heat and the crappy air, the winding down of the Summer Olympics, and the fact that here in my community summer vacation is ending for all the kids (and adults) who will be going back to school in the next couple of weeks, all have me thinking about "summer" songs. And there are a lot of them. But, because there are so many of them, I decided, for the purposes of this blog post, to stick with songs that actually have the words "summer" or "summertime" in the title.

First up, this is "Summer in the City", by The Lovin' Spoonful, from 1966, with a lead vocal (and bonus mid-60s sideburns) from John Sebastian. Sidewalks "hotter than a match-head" indeed, or at least it felt like that when I was outside yesterday:



"Summertime Blues" was first recorded by Eddie Cochran in 1958, but arguably the best-known cover of the song is by The Who, although it has been recorded by artists as diverse as Blue Cheer, The Beach Boys, Alan Jackson, and Olivia Newton-John. This is a live performance by The Who, at the Monterey Pop Festival, in 1967:



And then there's "Summertime". This song, which originated as an aria in "Porgy & Bess", by George Gershwin and DuBose Heyward in 1935, is one of the most covered songs in recording history, with one source claiming that there are over 33,000 covers of the song in existence. Well, I don't know about that, but I do know that I can't decide which of my two favorite covers of the song to post here, so I'm going to post both of them. First is Billie Holiday's cover:



I also love Janis Joplin's cover of "Summertime", here from a live performance in Stockholm in 1969:



I hope it isn't as hot where you are as it is here. If it is, try to stay cool. If it isn't, just know how jealous I am that you're there and I'm here.

Music Sunday: A Few Favorites...

No deep analysis today for Music Sunday. No theme. Just a few things I feel like sharing, songs and performances that I particularly like.

First, here's a live version of Summertime, by Janis Joplin, from 1969:



Also, Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris with their cover of Love Hurts. I think this is the definitive version of this song.



And, finally, The Who, live, from 1975, Behind Blue Eyes (plus bonus Keith Moon):

Musc Sunday, but just barely...Singers edition

I got so interested in Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of all time when I was looking at it last week that I decided to look at some of the other music lists they've compiled through the years, so I took a tour through their list of the 100 Greatest Singers. Interesting stuff, but probably also the stuff of many disagreements among music fans.

Aretha Franklin is the number one rated singer on the list., followed by Ray Charles at number two, Elvis Presley at number 3, Sam Cooke at number 4, and John Lennon at number five. As you'll see if you read on, I'm not thrilled with all those placings. But if you have to make a ranked list, Ms. Franklin is a good choice for the top spot.



I guess when it comes to rating singers...or songs, or music, or any art form...a lot of what goes into the consideration of who or what is better than the other is mostly subjective. There are technical considerations, of course, and those are beyond me when it comes to music. I played clarinet for three years, and used to be able to plunk out a melody on a piano after I'd heard it a few times. But none of that is really musical training.

Still, I know what I like, and what moves me, when it comes to music, and I had a number of "what the hell?!" moments when I was looking through Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 100 Greatest Singers this morning. For example, I kept wondering as I progressed through the list, where B. B. King was. Found him, finally, at number 96.

Ninety-six? That's just nuts. Well, I guess he's known more for his guitar playing than his singing - he's at number 6 on the magazine's list of Greatest Guitarists - but still, when "The Thrill Is Gone" came out when I was in junior high, the first time I heard it, I knew that was some singing right there.

But, surprises aside - and there were some good ones, too, from my point of view - it is an interesting list. I've seen six of the artists on the list perform live at one point or another: Prince (#30), Bono (#32), Neil Young (#37), Elton John (#38), Bjork (#60), and Karen Carpenter (#94). I can see why all of them made the list from my experience in hearing them live, although I've developed more of an appreciation for Bjork's singing from hearing her recorded work since the night I heard her play with the Sugarcubes, who were opening for U2 when I went to see them in Oakland, California. She isn't a conventional singer, but what she does with her voice is interesting and original. I don't know if she should be on the list of the 100 greatest singers, but she's got as much right to be on the list as some of those who are on it, I think.

As people will do, I would argue with some of the rankings on the list. Janis Joplin not there until number 28? Jim Morrison at only number 47? And, most surprisingly for me, in a good way, is Steve Perry at number 76?

I understand that the fact Steve Perry sang for Journey for so many years counted against him among some of the people compiling the list; it isn't a popular thing in some circles to even admit that you ever listened to the band. And, to be truthful, I was surprised that he made the list at all, given that handicap. But, that voice. There are a number of singers above him on the list who don't have his vocal range. The man just has a beautiful voice, and he knows how to use it.

The other pleasant surprise, although I think he should have come in higher, is Don Henley, at number 87. One word: Desperado. That might be the most achingly beautiful song I've ever heard, and it's his voice on the lead vocal that makes it that way.

The biggest names or places that I would argue with? Well - and I know there are people who will throw things at me for saying this - I really don't understand Elvis Presley's placement at number 3. Really? Yes, he always had that cult following. But his voice never did anything for me. (Not that that really means anything. A lot of people hate, and I mean purely hate Geddy Lee's singing voice, and I agree that it isn't the most beautiful voice in the world and I'm not sure I would place him in this list at all. But I enjoy listening to it.)

Also, as much as I love John Lennon's work, I would not rate him as the fifth greatest singer ever. And Mick Jagger at number 16? Yeah, no. Here again, I suspect that cult following had more to do with their placement on the list that their ability, to either sing or to move people with their phrasing or vocal technique. Lennon, I think should be on the list. Not so sure about Jagger although, again, I love some of his singing.

Another quibble, this time with Freddy Mercury, at number 18. I'd put him in the top ten, if not the top five.

I could go on for quite a while longer, dissecting the list and rearranging it according to my own tastes. Certainly, I would rate Levon Helm (at #91) higher on the list than he was placed. I think Bruce Springsteen (at #36) is about where he belongs. And I have to say that I'm not really sure why Mariah Carey (at #79) is on the list at all.

But again, all of this is really down to subjective issues, and my takes on the list, while right and valid for me, don't have anything to do with how other people see it.