A mere two weeks after our last snow event, summer visited the Delaware Valley yesterday and Friday. Temperatures hit 84 degrees Fahrenheit both days, and then skipped out the backdoor last night. It’s a chilly and damp 50 degrees as I type, 9:02am Sunday morn, and the weather forecast for the week all but guarantees that the comforter will return to the bed tonight, and that the cat will be back beneath it, between my feet, for at least part of the evening.
Anyway, enough of the preamble. For yesterday’s Top 5, I looked back 40 years. For today’s Top 5: Suspended in Time. Just ‘cause.
1) Juliana Hatfield – “Suspended in Time.” Way back in February, I wrote of the announced track listing for the Juliana Hatfield Sings Olivia Newton-John album that “[t]he only change I would make: swapping out ‘Suspended in Time’ for ‘Come on Over.’” So it stands to reason that, now that I’ve lived with the album for a week and a half, it’s become one of my favorite songs from the set. It just floors me.
2) Courtney Marie Andrews – “Warning Sign.” I’ve shared this song before, but not this specific performance from the Schubas Tavern in Chicago on March 31st. On it, Courtney lets loose her inner Aretha…
3) First Aid Kit – “Fireworks.” To be honest, I’d just about forgotten that Ruins was released this year – seems like a lifetime ago. But here they are, on Jimmy Kimmel Live last week, performing my favorite track from the album….(update 6/4/18 – the clip was removed at some point in the past month. So here they are on KCRW from earlier in the year.)
4) The Staves & yMusic – “The Way Is Read.” Uploaded just last month, this performance is spellbinding. The song, of course, is from the Staves’ collaboration with yMusic, The Way Is Read.
5) Lone Justice – “East of Eden.” I mined this YouTube gem on Friday night: Maria McKee and Lone Justice circa 1985. The song is still a shotgun blast of sonic newness to my ears, as is their self-titled debut as a whole. (And I didn’t realize until just now that I bought it 33 years ago this week.)
And because one LJ song or clip is never enough, at least for me this morning, here are a few more…
It was a chilly December day in 1969 when my father, then 38, arrived home from Vietnam, where he’d worked the previous 15 months as an electronics field engineer attached to the 5th U.S. Marine Base at Da Nang. He maintained the Marine Corps’ communication system called TRC-97 at fire bases and outposts between Da Nang and the DMZ, and sometimes took sniper fire while riding a motorcycle from one site to the next. He wasn’t a G.I., having left the Army after serving in the Korean War the decade before, but an RCA employee.
According to the thorough family history written by my grandfather the following year, my dad left for Vietnam on Sept. 16th, 1968, and returned stateside on Dec. 15th, though I imagine he first touched ground in Hawaii or San Diego and, even if he flew straight through, made it home a day later. What I recall: my mom crouching beside me, who was all of 4 1/2, and pointing to a tall man dressed in fatigues walking toward us. “Daddy,” she whispered in my ear. I ran to him, arms outstretched, and bellowed the same.
Young children welcoming a parent home from war: It’s a scene played out many thousands of times every decade, it seems. And, as with me, I’m sure it’s the first memory many have of that parent.
I was reminded of the day by Herc’s thoughtful write-up of The Vietnam War, the Ken Burns-Lynn Novick documentary series that recently aired on PBS. I haven’t watched it yet, though at some point I likely will, but it got me to thinking of December 1969 and the winter that followed – it’s the last time, I think, that I enjoyed snow. By the next Christmas we were in Saudi, and snow and frigid weather were non-factors for the next five years.
Anyway, Christmas of 1969, as I remember it, was great; the family was together and, in addition to my dad, I received one of the greatest gifts ever: Billy Blastoff. (It was an action toy, not a doll!)
To pull the magnifying glass away from me, major events of this month included, on the 1st, the initial draft lottery; on the 2nd, the 747 making its official debut; and, on the 6th, “Woodstock West,” aka the Altamont Free Concert, erupting into violence. Unemployment for the month was just 3.90 percent, but was about to begin a gradual climb to 6 percent by the end of 1970; and inflation was relatively high, at 5.5 percent.
(For more on 1969, see here and here, though each now features a clip that’s gone AWOL from YouTube.)
Movies released this month included A Boy Named Charlie Brown, Hello, Dolly!, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, Topaz and The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes. Top television shows included Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Mayberry R.F.D. and Family Affair. Brady Bunch aficionados will know that the kitsch classic’s lone Christmas episode, when Carol came down with a bad case of laryngitis, aired on the 17th; another historic Christmas-tinged TV moment came 10 days earlier with the first airing of Frosty the Snowman.
And, with that, here’s today’s Top 5: December 27th, 1969 (via Weekly Top 40):
1) Diana Ross & the Supremes – “Someday We’ll Be Together.” This, Diana’s final single with the Supremes, closed out the 1960s in spectacular fashion. (Producer Johnny Bristol can be heard harmonizing along, and giving Diana encouragement.)
2) Peter, Paul & Mary – “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” I never knew this was written by John Denver until the mid-2000s, when I watched an excellent PPM biography on PBS. There’s this, too: PPM recorded it in 1967 for Album 1700, but didn’t release it as a single until October 1969. It promptly ascended the charts and, on Dec. 20th, became their only single to hit No. 1. This week, it dropped a notch to No. 2.
3) B.J. Thomas – “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head.” Written for the Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid film, this classic Burt Bacharach-Hal David song, which won an Oscar, has been covered more times than than ASCAP/BMI can count. (Just a joke.)
4) Creedence Clearwater Revival – “Down on the Corner”/“Fortunate Son.” The double A-sided hit – one of the best – dropped to No. 4 from No. 3 (its peak) this week.
5) Steam – “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye.” Who knew, as 1969 came to a close, that the chorus to this ditty – which topped the charts for two weeks in early December – would become one of the de facto sing-alongs at sporting events within a decade’s time?
And two bonuses:
6) Neil Diamond – “Holly Holy.” The No. 6 this week is this gospel-tinged classic, which may well be Neil Diamond’s greatest song. (And even if it isn’t, it certainly feels that way when he’s singing it.) Here he is performing on the BBC in 1971:
7) Gladys Knight & the Pips – “Friendship Train.” Topping out at No, 17 is this under-appreciated Norman Whitfield-penned call for peace, love and understanding. Here’s Gladys & the Pips performing it in 1972:
We have not been here before, though our communal maps app has certainly brought us nearby. Heated elections come and go, and people on both sides of the divide become riled up and positive that the opposition is condoning no less than the destruction of these United States of America. That’s par for the course… but openly advocating rebellion and assassination if one’s candidate loses?! That’s sheer insanity.
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… and I wrote the above as part of a rather lengthy critique-endorsement (and, of course, Top 5) that I’ve decided to hold off on publishing until the end of this month, when its appearance will undoubtedly sway the legions of undecided voters – or, at least, my cat – to my way of thinking. Until then, here’s this top five; make of it what you will.
April 1985 wasn’t a particularly busy month for me, music-wise, but it was a monumental one nonetheless. On the 17th of that month (31 years ago to the day as I write) I picked up, on cassette, an album that – I hesitate to say that it changed my life, so I’ll say instead that it re-affirmed certain things.
The album in question, Lone Justice’s self-titled debut, was a shotgun blast of sonic newness that infused country-rock with punk, rock, gospel and soul. The music roared, soared and seeped from the speakers, and the mercurial Maria McKee’s vocals forged palpable emotions from the simplest of phrases. It helped, too, that she – and, presumably, the band – was about my age. It was the first time, I think, I heard someone my age singing about things I cared about in a style that I loved. It made me – someone who was often mining the past for musical revelations – feel like I wasn’t alone.
And three days later, I bought an LP that did it again: the Long Ryders’ Native Sons.
First, though: I was a few months shy of turning 20, a college sophomore attending one of Penn State’s satellite campuses while living at home. I worked part-time at a department store, though “part-time” is a bit of a misnomer. I often put in more than my scheduled 16-20 hours (Tuesday and Thursday nights, Saturdays and/or Sundays); the week of the 8th, for instance, I clocked 38 hours, though a large chunk of that was due to helping with inventory. The week prior, I worked 26 hours in total. I say so with certainty not because I possess total recall, which I’m glad I don’t, but my desk calendar, where I often tracked such things. (It’s a habit I wish I’d maintained, but – as I’ve noted elsewhere – I pretty much stopped after I departed for the Penn State mothership in the fall.)
In the wider world, the economy – as it had been for years – was sluggish, as evidenced in part by the 13 cent/hour raise I received on the 18th: unemployment was over seven percent and the gross national product was growing at a measly one percent. Most folks liked the Gipper, however, who’d just won re-election the November before, so he escaped blame. The economy was what it was, in other words. People just accepted it. The top-rated TV shows consisted of Dynasty, Dallas, The Cosby Show, 60 Minutes and Family Ties. Popular movies included The Breakfast Club, Ghoulies and Desperately Seeking Susan. The No. 1 single was “We Are the World.”
The Philadelphia Flyers, my favorite hockey team, had just clinched their division and were about to charge through the playoffs to the Stanley Cup finals (where they lost to the Edmonton Oilers). The late goalie Pelle Lindbergh (1959-85), in his last full season, was a wonder to behold.
In the months leading up to that April day, I saw two concerts: a Tribute to the Byrds at the Tower Theater (with Gene Clark, Michael Clarke, Rick Roberts, the Flying Burrito Brothers and Pure Prairie League – it was a far better show than the clueless reviewer claims) and Emmylou Harris at the Academy of Music. Albums that I picked up, in that same span, included the Byrds’ Untitled and Sweetheart of the Rodeo; Flying Burrito Brothers’ Last of the Red Hot Burritos; Emmylou Harris’ The Ballad of Sally Rose, Pieces of the Sky and Elite Hotel; Don Henley’s Building the Perfect Beast; Husker Du’s New Day Rising; and the Velvet Underground outtake collection VU.
Contrast those purchases with the Top 10 singles for the week ending April 20th (via WeeklyTop40):
1 WE ARE THE WORLD – USA For Africa
2 CRAZY FOR YOU – Madonna
3 NIGHTSHIFT – Commodores
4 ONE MORE NIGHT – Phil Collins
5 RHYTHM OF THE NIGHT – DeBarge
6 I’M ON FIRE – Bruce Springsteen
7 OBSESSION – Animotion
8 DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME – Simple Minds
9 ONE NIGHT IN BANGKOK – Murray Head
10 MISSING YOU – Diana Ross
Yeah, I was out of step with the times. And, with that said, onward to today’s Top 5, April 1985:
1) Lone Justice – “Ways to Be Wicked.” This song was written by Tom Petty and Mike Campbell for Damn the Torpedoes, but left behind. Jimmy Iovine, who co-produced that classic album, brought it with him when he signed on to produce Lone Justice’s debut a few years later.
According to the liner notes in Tom Petty’s Playback box set, Maria became upset after the fact when she realized – as a result of a Petty interview – the double entendre that “ain’t afraid to let me have it, ain’t afraid to stick it in” packs when sung by a gal.
2) Lone Justice – “Fortunate Son,” “Ways to Be Wicked,” “Sweet, Sweet Baby (I’m Falling),” “Don’t Toss Us Away” and “Wait ‘Til We Get Home.” One of the biggest regrets of my life: I never saw Lone Justice in concert. I have seen Maria a half dozen times in the years since (and given the infrequency of her tours, that’s saying something); and met her in 1993 at the (long-gone) Tower Records on South Street in Philadelphia. (It’s where she autographed the above CD cover.) This live performance from the Ritz in NYC in ’85 is incendiary…and makes me rue missing them all the more.
3) The Long Ryders – “Ivory Tower.” I bought Native Sons on the 20th based entirely on a Rolling Stone review, just as I did with Lone Justice. It wears its influences on its sleeve – literally, as the cover is a recreation of the cover for the never-released Buffalo Springfield album Stampede. (Not that I knew that at the time.) And the grooves pay tribute to the Flying Burrito Brothers and Byrds in addition to the Springfield – it’s basically an amalgamation of three of my favorite groups. Like Lone Justice, they mined the past while forging a new sound.
This song, written by the band’s former bassist Barry Shank, features former Byrd Gene Clark on harmony vocals.
4) Husker Du – “Celebrated Summer.” On the 8th of the month, I picked up New Day Rising on cassette – my second HD album. As with Zen Arcade the year before, I quickly formed a love-hate affair with it (and Husker Du as a whole); I wanted to like it and them more than I did. I’m not sure what didn’t connect with me. It’s packed with strong melodies and songs, but – for me – too often devolves into a minefield of noise. Maybe they needed a better producer.
5) The Fugs – “Nova Slum Goddess.” I bought this on the 27th. The Fugs, for those unfamiliar with them, were a satirical 1960s-era NYC band fronted by the poets Ed Sanders and Tuli Kupferberg. I’m not sure how or why I got into their music, but I found them funny. I played tracks from this live album, Refuse to Be Burnt Out, on the Folk Show every so often.
And one bonus…
6) Simple Minds – “Don’t You (Forget About Me).” I didn’t buy this song for years, but it’s one I’ve always loved, and given that it was in the Top 10 at the time… well, why not feature it? The Breakfast Club, which it hails from, is one of those movies that never gets old (for me, at least). I do wonder, though, how this song would have gone over if Bryan Ferry – who was asked to record it first – had released it.
