Song #86 of 9999 Title: O-o-h Child Artist: The Five Stairsteps
Year: 1970 Album: Stairsteps
I have a list of songs I made from 1970 and there are some good ones on it, but nothing was jumping out at me today. So I decided to dig a little deeper and came up with "O-o-h Child," the sole top ten hit from The Five Stairsteps.
I don't really have a lot to say about this song. I suppose I could talk a little bit about the key changes that allow the verse and chorus to have basically the exact same melody but still sound distinct but who really cares? The song works because it's got a great groove and an uplifting message. Have a great evening everyone!
Song #85 of 9999 Title: House at Pooh Corner Artist: Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Year: 1970 Album: Uncle Charlie & His Dog Teddy
Had one of those conversations today with a friend at work that I so enjoy. We were talking about this blog and I mentioned the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and, by extension, the song "House at Pooh Corner." Erik said, "Isn't that Loggins and Messina?" And I was like "I don't think so but I could be wrong." He was certain Kenny Loggins had written the song (he was right) and that Loggins and Messina had released it as a single (he was right again). But thankfully, he went the extra mile and looked it up on the internet only to find that.. I too was right!
It's so funny. I'm listening to the Loggins and Messina version right now and I'm almost certain I've never heard it. The fact that either of us knows anything about this 40-year-old gem is pretty amazing, but the deeper discovery was learning that we have shared memories of two distinct versions.
If you've ever had a soft spot in your heart for A. A. Milne's tale of an overweight bear and his piglet friend, you'll probably enjoy this tune. It's a song I remember fondly from my childhood (I was an Eeyore fan, natch) and it was nice to revisit it this evening!
Song #84 of 9999 Title: Whole Lotta Love Artist: Led Zeppelin
Year: 1970 Album: Led Zeppelin II
Recently, I watched the film It Might Get Loud, with Jimmy Page playing superego to The Edge's ego and Jack White's id. Almost any time I see British rockers from the seventies, I'm struck by how smart they are musically and otherwise. (Side note: Queen's Brian May recently earned a PhD in astrophysics. Can you imagine Vince Neil doing this?)
Anyway, I think it's easy to dismiss any group of musicians who play music as powerful and occasionally bombastic as Led Zeppelin's as somewhat less than cerebral. And when you listen to "Whole Lotta Love," you're probably focusing much more on the groove or Robert Plant's wail or Page's amazing solo. Or more likely, you're not focusing at all—this is music that evokes feelings not thoughts. And that's probably what Jimmy Page, the producer, would like you to do. But take a moment to really to all the stuff going on in this tune, especially to what Wikipedia calls the "free, jazz-like" section (really??) and remember that this was 1970. Page, who was a studio guitarist for so many years (yes, that's him playing guitar on Lulu's "To Sir With Love"), obviously gained the knowledge and expertise necessary to stretch the limitations of pop music production in ways that household names like Phil Spector, Brian Wilson, and George Martin had earlier. His contributions to studio production will likely always be overshadowed by the magnificent sum of the parts that is Led Zeppelin (same with John Paul Jones's brilliant arrangements) and/or his extraordinary guitar playing. But it's interesting to step back and listen with slightly different ears to what this studio artist was able to achieve so early in Led Zeppelin's career.
Song #83 of 9999 Title: The Boxer Artist: Simon & Garfunkel
Year: 1970 Album: Bridge Over Troubled Water
Take a few minutes and listen to this song Really listen. It's a song you've probably heard a thousand times, but when you really parse it out, you catch some pretty amazing details that really make the song.
I'll start with the first lick in the guitar. Does this arpeggio have any business announcing the arrival of this song? It's a half-diminished 7th chord (the Tristan chord if you want to get Wagnerian about it) from outside of the key of B Major that emerges with the first verse. A curious choice that definitely gets your attention.
The second verse introduces what sounds like an ailing bari sax but turns out to be a bass harmonica! It's such a bizarre and unexpected texture. The light percussion helps a lot too. I mean, is it necessary? Probably not—these guys have your attention with the lyrics, the hypnotic guitar picking and vocal harmonies. But it's so inventive and pleasing to hear all of this stuff. They're like a solemn and dignified jug band.
There's other stuff, but let's talk about the vocal harmonies. They're glorious of course, but more than that, they're so well-constructed and different in every verse. Does the song start to get long by the fourth verse? We'll never know because of the brilliant turn that happens on the words "bleeding me" at 2:39, as the harmony is directed to the mediant (iii) for the first time in the song. It's one of my favorite moments in this or any song. So smart.
And then the home stretch. The "Lie la lie" chorus, originally intended as a placeholder for lyrics yet to be written, becomes the commiserate rallying cry of everyone whose ever been down on their luck even for a moment. The buildup is grand with strings that are nice and dark and a gradual increase in reverb that washes over everything. "The Boxer" tends to get overshadowed by "Bridge Over Troubled Water," released later that year, but for my money, it's Simon & Garfunkel's greatest record from top to bottom.
(I'm just going to acknowledge that this song may have actually been released in 1969, not 1970. But I already wrote all this stuff and don't want to wait until....let's see....November to tell you about it!)
The plagiarism suit brought against former Beatle George Harrison for his massive hit "My Sweet Lord" seems like the kind of thing most pop music fans would already be aware of, but I'm going to assume that my young hip audience who were surely born after 1980 don't know about it. Which means all of you people in the know are just going to have to deal.
The infamous case of Brightsongs Music v. Harrisongs Music lasted over ten years and ended with the decision that Harrison "subconsciously" copied "He's So Fine" by The Chiffons. There is no question that the songs are melodically the same and the chord structure is only slightly more complex in Harrison's song. (Those slight differences go a long way for my two cents—one of the great strengths of Harrison as a songwriter is his transitional progressions.) Harrison was ordered to pay damages in the amount of 1.6 million dollars, but managed to shave a million dollars off the fine by essentially buying the rights to "He's So Fine" during the course of the trial! (Technically, his former manager Allen Klein purchased the rights and he paid Klein but who's counting?) I guess the moral of the story is, if you're going to steal something from someone, make sure you have the money to pay for it if you get caught. Then keep selling it for as long as you can until you break even and eventually turn a profit.
I personally don't find either of these songs to be all that good or inspiring (so many better George tracks out there), but I was excited to learn that Harrison actually had the Edwin Hawkins Singers' "Oh Happy Day" in mind when he wrote his track. I actually think that makes a lot of sense because the two songs seem to have a common vibe that links them even more strongly than the identical melodies and chord progressions of "My Sweet Lord" and "He's So Fine." That being said, let's turn this into a TRIPLE PLAY TWOSDAY! I actually think this song is better than either of the two that are the subject of this post. So there.
Song #82 of 9999 Title: Oh Happy Day Artist: Edwin Hawkins Singers
Year: 1967 Album: Let Us Go Into the House of the Lord
Song #79 of 9999 Title: Big Yellow Taxi Artist: Joni Mitchell
Year: 1970 Album: Ladies of the Canyon
Joni Mitchell is one of those artists I'm expecting to really dig into one day. I know her hits pretty well but I've never owned a record and I couldn't tell you much about her back catalog. But she really intrigues me and I think she is truly the kind of talent that only comes around once every twenty years or so. (Who's her 1990 predecessor then? Probably Björk.) Looking at this concert video from 1970 (here's the studio version, which is better if you've never heard it, but I rather enjoyed this video), it's hard to imagine someone like her making it today. She looks kind of gawky and I can just imagine some record exec telling her to get her teeth fixed or something. But she's obviously a natural performer in the same way Ani DiFranco is (oh wait, maybe she's the 1990 predecessor) and I have to believe she would have found her audience anyway.
"Big Yellow Taxi" is great from the perspective of the message but it's the hook everyone should really be enamored with. The catchiness of a hook is one of those things that often can't be measured and this one is so amazing, I feel a little awkward even trying. But I think in this case, there are two factors that make it work as well as it does. First, the vowel/consonant-pitch connection. When she sings "pave paradise," that upward-bended "i" sound is real open-ended and let's you know there's something else coming. Then she sings "put up a parking lot" and the word "lot" just slams the door with its brevity. But the real factor that makes this (and so many) hooks work so well is the setup. The lines that precede the hook—"don't it always seem to go/you don't know what you've got til it's gone"—are shot out of a cannon and float back to the surface like feathers, covering more than an octave in the course of two bars. If that doesn't get your attention, nothing will! And at that point, the hook is waiting for you and you are defenseless.
Song #78 of 9999 Title: No Matter What Artist: Badfinger
Year: 1970 Album: No Dice
I thought I'd start 1970 with the birth of a genre that has meant a lot to me over the past ten years or so: power pop. Before there was Elvis Costello, before there was Cheap Trick, before there was Weezer, even before there was Big Star, there was Badfinger. And, although we can debate about exactly when power pop came into its own (it would be fair to start with The Kinks five years earlier), the sound people really associate with the style is encapsulated in this 1970 release by Badfinger.
Badfinger was one of the first bands to be signed to The Beatles' Apple Records. Paul McCartney even wrote and produced their first hit, "Come and Get It" (check out this demo of McCartney performing the song—it's really excellent.) Their sound so resembled The Beatles that rumors circulated that Badfinger was, in fact, The Beatles making an effort to record music in secret to avoid the immense pressure and scrutiny of the press and public.
I like "No Matter What" because of the hooks of course, but also for the use of a rhythm guitar tone that I think really epitomizes the power pop sound. The video shows Ham playing a Gibson SG, which is likely the guitar on the recording and maybe the guitar supposedly given to him by George Harrison. It's the same guitar Pete Townshend favored and shows up in the hands of other power pop guitarists from groups like The Raspberries and The Cars.
