From 1969 (and previously unheard by moi before last weekend) please enjoy Euro-pop obscurities Wallace Collection and their sublimely symphonic Mamas-and-Papas-ish Daydream.
Not to be confused with the Lovin' Spoonful song of the same name.
Heh.
In any case, like I said, I had never heard that until last Saturday. And why it wasn't as big a hit in the USA as it was elsewhere is beyond me. (BTW: You'll note that the melody is stolen, bigly, from Tchaikovksy and Swan Lake. Hey -- that was the kind of thing they were doing back then.)
I should add that, apparently. said record's been covered successfully on a few occasions since. In fact, the way I first encountered it was at my local Forest Hills watering hole -- the Keuka Kafe -- in an early 21st century sampled version by one of those crappy electronic acts the kids like, aka I Monster.
Which I won't link to, because I consider you all friends. 😎
Anyway, the 1969 version is still a great pop confection by any standard you care to mention, even if the group originally behind it was from Belgium.
American teenagers quickly became obsessed with rock and roll, much to their parents’ alarm. But even if Mum and Dad forbade them from listening to “the Devil’s music” on the family radiogram, they quickly found ways of circumventing the ban.
In the 1950s, RentaRadio in New York rented radios to teenagers for just 35 cents an hour. You had to rent it for a minimum of three hours – more than enough time to catch Alan Freed’s late night radio show Rock ‘n’ Roll Party on WINS.
Hey, I had a transistor that I kept under my pillow for late night listening on school nights.
But I had never heard about that rental thing. Which I think is absolutely fabulous, and just so New Yawk.
And speaking of whom, here he is in a truly lovely performance (on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1971) of Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind."
I must confess that I had been totally unaware of that clip before last Saturday, and seriously -- call me a sentimental old fluff if you will, but if you don't find that as surprisingly touching as I do, you really need to check your meds.
Our Gen Z readers (heh) may be unaware that Jack was the son of a very popular 30's crooner/sex symbol named Allan Jones, who is remembered today mostly for his romantic lead performances in the Marx Brothers' classics A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races. As for the younger Jones, he was pretty much my favorite Beatles-era pop singer who wasn't a rock-and-roller. He was a fixture on tv variety shows for ages, and back in the day he actually (deservedly) had at least one good hit record -- a version of the Burt Bachrach classic "Wives and Lovers," which garnered him a Grammy in 1964.
Later, of course, he sang the theme from The Love Boat, but don't worry -- I won't inflict THAT on you.
In any event, I always thought he was a very cool guy and a terrific singer, and I'm gonna use his passing as an excuse to recount one of my all time favorite show-biz stories.
So anyway, Jack was on the Sullivan show one Sunday, and during the early afternoon rehearsal (sans audience), after Jack sang his number, Ed called him over (as was his wont with performers when they were done) and ad libbed "So -- is Allan Jones still your father?"
A big laugh from the tech crew ensued (Ed was, shall we say, not known for his sense of humor) and the show's producer said "Ed -- that's hilarious. Make sure you do that when we're on air."
Jack and Ed concurred.
Cut to the actual live broadcast, in front of a genuine theater crowd, later that night.
Jack finishes his number, and Ed calls him over and the following exchange transpires.
Ed: "Hey Jack, c'mon over. That was great."
Jack: "Thank you, Ed."
Ed: [taking a beat] "So -- is your father still alive?"
I am not making that up. Man, what I wouldn't give to find a version of that on YouTube. 😎
And may I say again -- this death shit is really starting to piss me off.
From 1965, and their totally brilliant third American LP Animal Tracks, please enjoy the aforementioned The Animals and their hilarious and totally rocking proto-rap "The Story of Bo Diddley."
Which leads us to business. To wit:
...and your favorite obscure British Invasion album track by a solo artist or group that either had hits in America or didn't is...???
I should add that the above Animals selection, which I have always found aboslutely delightful -- particularly when lead singer Eric Burdon talks about Diddley's "GORGEOUS sister" The Duchess -- was once a topic of some disagreement from my old friend Eric C. Boardman.
[That's him in the pith helmet, stage right.]
Eric once borrowed said Animals record from me when we were living across the hall from each other at a dorm in Lake Forest College in the fall of 1965.
And he returned it to me with the ball-point-pen-written phrase "completely sucks" appended after the title of said song on the back of the album sleeve.
And yes -- we're still talking to each other after all those years, BTW.
Okay -- in any event...what would YOUR choices be?
Still vacationing in Italy, and having an absolutely favoloso time.
So how come I'm posting, of all things, Queen's shall we say overfamiliar "Bohemian Rhapsody"...
...as if it's somehow relevant?
Because it actually is.
See, we were in Florence the other day, at the church of Santa Maria Novella, and we viewed this imposing pulpit...
...which is the actual one that guy-in-the-song Galileo was denounced from for having the temerity to declare, correctly, that the earth revolved around the sun.
How cool is that?
BTW, if you're ever in Florence, make sure you check out the aforementioned church, which dates from the 15th century, as it's like the weirdest damn thing you'll ever see.
Seriously -- it's like this spooky multimedia Jesus Land theme park or something. I'm not kidding about this.
So as we were wandering around Florence (after seeing Botticelli's Birth of Venus at the Uffizi) Saturday, and what to our wondering eyes should suddenly appear but an actual, fabulous record store, run by obviously kindred spirits.
I'll have more to say about the place -- which is called Contempo Records and has been doing this kinda bizness since 1977(!) -- on a later occasion, but let's just say that they treated two idiot Americans like royalty, and I can't tell you what a kick it was to hear the Floor Models blasting over a Florentine sound system.
Oh, and BTW, it's my birthday today, so if you wanna say something nice, I wouldn't mind.
Greetings from sunny Florence, Italy, where as you know a certain Shady Dame and I are enjoying a much needed vacation.
And so without further ado -- hey, we've got sights to see -- this leads us to the weekend's business.
To wit:
...and your favorite post-Elvis rock/pop/soul/folk song either referencing a country other than the USA or with lyrics wholly or partly in a language other than English is...???
And in case you're wondering, my nominee -- for obvious reasons -- is this glorious ditty by Oates. (Okay, technically Hall &, but apparently they're not speaking anymore).
Whatever John and Darryl's problems, power pop doesnt come any more insinuating, in my humble opinion. Or should I say "a mio modesto parere"?
In any case -- what would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!! Dispatches from the land that brought us Verdi and Frankie Valli resume on Monday, or as unexpected events dictate!
An idiosyncratic blog dedicated to the precursors, the practioners, and the descendants of power pop.
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