Song #347 of 9999 - American Girl by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Song #347 of 9999 

Title: American Girl
Artist: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
Year: 1976
Album: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Trying to ascertain exactly what makes a song "catchy" is a fascinating little game. It's a little like exploratory surgery or maybe an autopsy. And sometimes just as messy. (I don't know what that means exactly but I decided to say it anyway.) A lot of people would prefer you just leave it alone—don't spoil the magic, they will say! But even if you can figure it out, it's usually some combination of elements that come together in a combustible way that's thrilling enough to forgive and forget that you know how the trick is done. And with that healthy mix of metaphors, let's conclude this convoluted paragraph and take a look at "American Girl."

First of all, if you don't like this song, you're crazy. Plain and simple. It's over for you and pop music. Move along. But for those of you who remain, let's figure out why this song makes us feel the way it does. The first (and most obvious) element of the song is the tempo and corresponding drum beat. If you listen to the interaction of bass and snare, the song is trucking along at a blistering 240BPM or so (which is "Walking on Sunshine" territory). But by omitting the kick drum from every other downbeat and sustaining each chord over two bars (both harmonically and literally with his guitar), the song can just as easily be felt at 120BPM, which is more manageable for most of us. The net effect is a bouncy double-time drum beat driving a more traditional pop structure.

The second thing that makes this work for me is the harmonic progression. I think anytime you move from a major tonic (I--Dmaj in this case) to a major supertonic (II--Emaj), it just sounds awesome with the #4 (G#) creating this sense of harmonic expanse. The fact that he does this frequently while sustaining an inverted pedal tone above (the jangly D) makes it even more interesting as it adds some density to the major chords (E7 and Asus4, for example). But the moment that really does it for me happens as the pre-chorus transitions to the chorus (at 1:10). At 1:02, the band settles on the dominant (V-Amaj), holding it for eight long bars, before moving to......the subdominant (IV-Gmaj). This deceptive motion sets a classic pop chorus in motion (IV-V-I-vi-IV-V-I) that culminates with the great harmonized hook ("an American girl!"). It's pop bliss.

So here's the $10,000 question: why did Petty bury this song at the end of his debut album? It seems like such an obvious first single (it wasn't---"Breakdown" preceded it) and would be a great album opener (it opens his Greatest Hits collection) but he saves it for the end. What do you think?

Song #346 of 9999 - The Dangling Conversation by Simon and Garfunkel

Tonight, we close out 1966 with my very first GUEST BLOGGER. Austin Wood teaches English in Moscow, Russia, while living his life as a "passionate language learner" and "extreme minimalist." He writes a blog about his love of traveling and his goal of eradicating the student debt he racked up studying physics and linguistics at the University of Maryland. In an earlier life, I taught him to play the viola; now, he is an inspiration to me.
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Song #346 of 9999 

Title: The Dangling Conversation
Artist: Simon and Garfunkel
Year: 1966
Album: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

The anticlimactic release of their 1964 debut album, Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M., prompted Paul Simon to retreat to England while Art Garfunkel returned to Columbia in pursuit of a Ph.D. in mathematics. During this time, producer Tom Wilson overdubbed a track off the duo's first album with electric instruments and released it without consulting either musician. Paul received news of the track's release only after the new and electrified version of The Sound of Silence began creeping its way up the charts. With a second chance at stardom, the group reunited and released two albums in 1966.

Lyrically, The Dangling Conversation continues the theme of broken communication that Paul explored in their first hit, The Sound of Silence. While The Sound of Silence explores this theme on a national and global level, The Dangling Conversation narrows in on communication at a personal level. In an interview, Paul revealed that when he performs this song, vivid images of people close to him — two lovers or a pair of friends — flash in his mind. Paul describes these two people who have grown apart over the years, "We are verses out of rhythm, couplets out of rhyme, in syncopated time." Art Garfunkel's angelic voice provides the harmony, cleverly repeating the last line with bold syncopation.

Sound engineer Roy Halee — who worked hand in hand with Simon and Garfunkel on all five studio albums — realized early on that traditional multi-tracking techniques were not sufficient for the duo's unique blend. In order to capture the full beauty of their harmonies, their voices had to be recorded at the same with one microphone. However, to add more depth, he recorded each voice a second time individually, hence using three tracks for the two-part vocals. This technique can be found on almost all their tracks, including The Dangling Conversation.

Song #345 of 9999 - Take a Giant Step by The Monkees

Song #345 of 9999 

Title: Take a Giant Step
Artist: The Monkees
Year: 1966
Album: The Monkees

"Last Train to Clarksville" was the big hit in 1966 for the "Pre-Fab Four" known as The Monkees, but I'm more intrigued by this Gerry Coffin & Carole King-penned follow-up single which shows a bit more originality and won't be measured (fairly, I think) against The Beatles' "Paperback Writer."

Of course, The Monkees were never meant to be taken seriously, having been formed solely for the purpose of starring in the eponymous American television series that aimed to capitalize on the success of Beatle-mania. But The Monkees are actually pretty talented as individuals and Micky Dolenz has a really distinctive voice with a husky tone quality unlike anyone else of the time. The fact that Dolenz was positioned behind the drumkit for most of the series (despite not having ever played them before) probably accounts for the fact that Davey Jones is most often thought of as the band's leader and primary singer. But it was Dolenz who was responsible for the lead vocals on "I'm a Believer," "Pleasant Valley Sunday," "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone," and the two tracks mentioned in this post.

"Take a Giant Step" has a really pleasant combination of keyboard colors (harpsichord, organ and celesta) and some very effective three-part vocal harmony. I really like the pauses and dynamic changes which give the song more dimension than your typical Monkees tune. The solo section doesn't quite achieve the sense of psychedelia it is aiming for perhaps but I'm sure it sounded good accompanying whatever hijinks were unfolding on the small screen. :)

See, I was right!

Song #344 of 9999 - Sunshine Superman by Donovan

Song #344 of 9999 

Title: Sunshine Superman
Artist: Donovan
Year: 1966
Album: Sunshine Superman

I'm always intrigued when I hear a song that uses the tried and true 12-bar blues progression in an interesting way. For those who are not familiar with the form it looks like this:

I / / / | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | IV / / / | / / / / | I / / / | / / / / | V / / / | IV / / / | I / / / | / / / / |  

If it's still unclear, think about every 1950's rock and roll song you've ever heard ("Blue Suede Shoes," "Hound Dog," "Rock Around the Clock," etc.). In this case, however, Donovan Leitch sets the chord progression over a slow not-quite-Latin chugga-chugga groove and layers of seemingly disparate instruments: upright bass, harpsichord, bongos and a slithery electric guitar that mimics the chromatic descent of the lead vocal. The first eight bars still sound so fresh and cool, reminding me of "Way Down in the Hole" by Tom Waits (another slow blues, but of the 16-bar variety) which wouldn't show up for another 20 years.

Leitch has a way with vocal harmony too, layering his droning nasal tenor on the line "cause I've made my mind up" before bringing it all together in a unison descending octave leap. It's a cool singalong moment and a perfectly executed hook. Surrounding himself with some slick session players, including Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and jazz drummer Bobby Orr, was a smart idea too. Perhaps not as adventurous or groundbreaking as "Season of the Witch" but definitely more fun to sing in the car.

Song #343 of 9999 - My Little Red Book by Love

Song #343 of 9999 

Title: My Little Red Book
Artist: Love
Year: 1966
Album: Love

To be honest, I don't know much about the LA-based garage rock band Love but I made a note to check out their first album when it was time to write about 1966. After giving it a (virtual) "spin," I can't say I was super-impressed, but a songwriting credit did catch my eye. "My Little Red Book," the opening track to Love's self-titled debut which rollicks noisily along like a train on uneven tracks, was written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David! (What?!) This kind of shook my worldview a little bit. Did Bacharach and David really start out as proto-punk progenitors? A few minutes later, I was listening to this original version by Manfred Mann from the film What's New Pussycat? and suddenly things were becoming clearer.

Bacharach's original vision is bombastic enough with its pulsating eighth notes angrily dotting the verse, our hero vowing with determination to fill the void left by his lover by dating every girl in his "little red book." The chords are quite dissonant: Bb/C followed by a quick B/C turnaround. But by the time the chorus rolls around and our hero realizes he is broken-hearted and "never getting over [her]", we are ensconced in the warmth of major sevenths (Cmaj7-Fmaj7), and all is right in Bacharachia again. (sorry for that)

So what's up with Love's version? Well, for starters, the verses are pitched a 1/2-step higher and the pedal tone is gone. (The chords are simply B and C.) This severely alters the harmony of the song by directing our ears to a different bass note. During the pre-chorus where Bacharach employs traditional sonorities (Am Em Dm Cm | Am Em--maybe some 7ths thrown in there), Love chooses to further exploit the 1/2-step interval of the verse and makes all the chords major (E F E | F G), before somehow managing to play the chorus in the key of the original version (C-F)! It's actually astonishing how well this works, but you may not be surprised to learn that Burt Bacharach was not pleased. Oh well.

Songs #341 & 342 - It's TWOsday!

Song #341 of 9999                                   Song #342 of 9999

Title: For No One                                      Title: God Only Knows
Artist: The Beatles                                    Artist: Beach Boys

Year: 1966                                                Year: 1966
Album: Revolver                                        Album: Pet Sounds

Tonight's all about the French Horn. Okay, not really but both of these songs happen to feature lovely horn solos, the former credited to Alan Civil and the latter to Alan Robinson and really, when is the last time you really gave it up for the French Horn player?!

It's fairly well-known in pop music lore how much influence Brian Wilson and Paul McCartney exerted on one another. Wilson was enamored with Rubber Soul and set out to create a record that could stand up to the Beatles masterpiece. McCartney in turn was seemingly obsessed with Pet Sounds and acknowledges the impact it had on his contributions to Revolver as well as 1967's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. Then Wilson listened to Sgt. Pepper and purportedly had a nervous breakdown. (The breakdown was real, the causation seems a bit tenuous.)

Anyway, I've presented an unfair fight with tonight's picks. McCartney's "For No One" is lovely, simple and moving. The verses unfurl in B Major over a blithely descending bass line while the choruses suggest caution in C# minor, punctuated by an alertly articulated rising bass. The half cadence that ends the piece suggests unfinished business for our protagonist. It's an excellent song but far from McCartney's finest.

On the other hand, "God Only Knows" is unquestionably Brian Wilson's best song and surely one of the top ten pop songs ever produced. (Rolling Stone magazine ranks it #25 of 500, but what do they know.) Wilson channels Phil Spector to produce a recording that seems timeless. The organ, accordion, strings, French horn, woodwinds and the ever-present sleigh bells(!) come together to form a rich soundscape that manages to enhance the song while somehow keeping it free of clutter. 

As with "For No One," let's keep the focus on the bass line, where we see a line that meanders, rarely providing the root before descending chromatically to settle on the lyrical refrain (Verse: A-B-F#-A-B-C-B-Bb Refrain: A-G#-F#-E). As complex as the chord progression is, the overarching structure is actually quite simple: the song is really just three verses (each ending with the refrain "God only knows what I'd be without you") and one slightly uncharacteristically bouncy instrumental interlude. The canonic extension that concludes the piece is gorgeous, with that magic moment at the 2:00 mark still inducing chills after 47 years.

Song #340 of 9999 - Visions of Johanna by Bob Dylan

Song #340 of 9999 

Title: Visions of Johanna
Artist: Bob Dylan
Year: 1966
Album: Blonde on Blonde

(Note: the video I feature here is a live recording from 1966 as the original is unavailable on YouTube.)

With so many books, papers, articles, films, websites, and probably even blogs(!) written about Bob Dylan, it's difficult to know what I could possibly bring to the table when discussing such an iconic song as 1966's "Visions of Johanna." This is one of those times when I remind myself that a goal of this blog is to simply present a song each day for people to ponder and I don't have to render some earth-shattering commentary in order for it to be enjoyed. In the case of "Visions of Johanna" (and probably most, if not all, of Blonde on Blonde), it's pretty good advice.

Nonetheless, I have a few thoughts about the lyric UK poet laureate Sir Andrew Motion called the greatest song lyric ever written (thank you Wikipedia) and some observations about the hastily recorded track that appears on Blonde on Blonde. The latter is easy. While it must have seemed a masterpiece in 1966 to those who placed the needle in the naked groove that preceded track 3, the recording now seems cluttered and full of mistakes. While Al Kooper has praised Joe South's bass line for being "rhythmically amazing," I find myself distracted by the number of instances when he's simply playing the wrong note. (In his defense, I can imagine Dylan never playing the song the same way twice.) The funk groove and isolated-in-the-left channel lead guitar licks all seem superfluous where the words are so commanding.

The lyric is something to behold and worth seeking out. It is poetry to be sure, unapologetically incomprehensible at times but never straying from its assigned tone. Dylan captures the sort of loneliness that can only be felt in a city of millions (in this case, New York City). I get a sense from the lyric that he feels a bit like a fraud, perhaps wondering if his fame has superseded the message he has spent years peddling. The song seems very personal despite being told in the third person, a detachment makes it seem cool and unsentimental. (Maybe that's what the musical arrangement was all about as the live acoustic performances seem much more personal.) The beauty of the song is that the words allow for so many interpretations and Dylan has managed to keep any personal meaning to himself for nearly fifty years.