Every once in a while I stumble across a mention of an artist I’ve heard of but have not yet mentally catalogued adequately. What if I’m put on the spot about the works of this artist and do not have a clear point of view? It could be embarrassing! So I click a link on the InterWeb and arrive at a bio or interview that tells me more about this artist than I would have ever thought worth knowing. Maybe you’ve done this too.
Recently I stumbled across the Wikipedia page for songwriter/musician Chip Taylor. The name was familiar, and as soon as I saw he was the writer of The Troggs’ “Wild Thing” some synapses started firing. He also wrote “Angel of the Morning”, which has the same chord progression. Yeah, right! I thought to myself, as if I’d been sitting at a bar with fellow rock nerds. Efficient guy, that Chip Taylor!
As a service to Townspeople who might find themselves similarly stumped for talking points on Chip Taylor, I will run through a few facts and observations that you might find handy the next time his name crops up at a gathering of rock nerds. If we find this helpful, it might be worth posting occasional pieces on other, slightly obscure artists whom you do not want to be stumped by should their name come up at a party.
Along with Dionne Warwick, the late-60s hits by Glen Campbell represent, in my memory, the best of the failed aspirations of middle-class America. I still see those albums sitting in front of the huge, wooden stereo consoles in our neighborhood, resting on plush, burnt-orange carpeting. Some elongated sculpture of a conquistador on a horse decorates one end of the console. A reproduction of some painting by one of the Dutch Masters is centered over the stereo; it matches the colors of the heavy velour drapes and couch. “Gavleston”, “Witcheta Lineman”, and “By the Time I Get to Pheonix” made vaguely country music safe for those of us on the more urban coasts–East Coast city dwellers and California dreamers alike. Campbell was pretty cool and sophisticated for a guy playing twangy guitar tunes. As some of us grew into rock nerds, leaving behind the fractured dreams of middle America circa 1968, there were unexpected depths of Campbell to plunder, such as his work as a session man for The Beach Boys and his role as mouthpiece to the surprising cult of Jimmy Webb, Songwriter. It was these after-the-fact revelations that kept the increasingly irrelevant Campbell on the right side of “cool,” despite the cheesy career apex of “Rhinestone Cowboy”, the rough-and-tumble Tanya Tucker years, the coke slide, and the more-recent Jesus-friendly infomercials. When I first heard of this album – a good 24 hours before it showed up in my mailbox – I thought, “Oh man, another Rick Rubin reclamation project! What’s he going to do next, produce a ‘cool’ comeback album for Vicki Lawrence?” (Turns out it’s not a Rick Rubin production, but the brainchild of Julian Raymond, who’s produced Roseanne Cash and The Wallflowers, among others.) After a few minutes I thought, this is Glen Campbell, we have a history together. So I pushed Play and got down to the business of sharing my thoughts, feelings, and other observations.
Adding new meaning to “lineman.”
“Sing”: Campbell’s tenor rises above the alt-adult contemporary fare of this modern-day wall of sound, complete with a skipping drum beat, orchestration, and the insistent plucking of a banjo. Turns out this is a song by Travis, a band I’ve heard of but have never passed judgement on. Do they do, like, iPod ads or something?
“Walls”: I know this song. Is it by someone I don’t typically like? Campbell’s delivery has a way of making me drop my defenses. His performances carry no baggage, have no agenda. He expresses nothing but love and joy for his material, and it’s contagious. OK, I peeked: this is a Tom Petty song. I haven’t been “duped” into digging, like, an REO Speedwagon song.
“Angel Dream”: Here’s another loping Tom Petty cover. This is what we call a nice cover: nothing earth-shattering but completely professional, befitting the studio cat that a young Campbell once was. If this is where this album’s heading, it’s a dignified comeback album we’ve got cooking.
“Times Like These”: Man, this song’s familiar and well constructed! There was always something refreshingly straightforward and good natured in the delivery of Campbell’s classic hits, which mixed the pride of country music with the optimism and hope of Southern California pop. This song has that combination in spades. Whaddaya know? It’s a Foo Fighters song! A lot of older dudes have been telling me there’s something to Grohl’s songs. It’s funny, this is the most like what I would have expected in an album presenting some producer’s version of a comebacking Campbell, as if Elvis Costello had been commissioned to write a song in the Jimmy Webb style. There may have been more to the singer than the song than revisionist hipsters would like to believe.
“These Days”: This song’s off to a lovely start. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with a song by an artist I’ve never much liked…Oh man, I’ve got to take a minute to let some tears flow. This is beautiful…I KNOW THIS SONG: it’s friggin’ Jackson Browne! Truth be told, this is one of the only songs by that guy that ever made the slightest impression on me, but hearing this preternaturally wise song through the voice of a guy who’s royally screwed up his life and lived to tell about it makes it really moving. I’m taken back to that huge, wooden stereo console; the burnt-orange carpet; and the aspirations represented by those conquistadore sculptures.
“Sadly Beautiful”: A Replacements cover. Much better, to my ears, than hearing it on a flagging Replacements album. Like the first few tracks, a “professional” cover.
Pleased to meet you, too.
“All I Want Is You”: Is this a U2 song or that horrible Rod Stewart song, “Forever Young”? It’s U2. As is often the case when I can get past the band’s stock digitally mystical production I’m impressed by how simple and direct the band’s music can be. I MUCH prefer hearing this song in Campbell’s plaintive voice than through the emotive Christ-worthy self-love of Bono.
Who plays who? Not just The Eagles but any relevant player in the scene, man.
Wiley, the publisher of the Don Felder bio-tome discussed here, was unable to secure us an interview with the man (missed it by this much) but has been kind enough to offer 10 free copies of Heaven and Hell: My Life In The Eagles (1974-2001) by Don Felder and Wendy Holden.
Soooooo. Here in The Back Office we have assembled an anonymous team of judges who will select the top 10 responses. You will be awarded points based on; creativity first and foremost, historical accuracy and neatness.
Pervis Jackson, the baritone vocalist for The Spinners, best known for his “12:45…” line in “They Just Can’t Stop It (Games People Play)”, has died at 70. You can see Jackson lip-sync his legendary part at the 2:09 mark in the following clip. See if you can control yourself from trying to sing along with him.
After years as a second-rate act on Motown, The Spinners found their sound in Philadelphia in the early ’70s, when they fell under the production of Philadelphia International’s Thom Bell and the MSFB studio musicians. Their numerous hits on Atlantic Records are among my favorite sounds of my preteen and early teen years. Lovely, romantic stuff! For those of you with a taste for this sort of sophisticated ’70s soul, I heartily recommend A One of a Kind Love Affair: The Anthology. It collects the best of the band’s work from their stops in both the Motor City and the so-called City of Brotherly Love.
The band also knew how to have a good time. Have any of you ever heard The Rumour‘s cover of the following song?
The following example, and our first entry in this Last Man Standing, is an example of about how liberal we may stretch the term “well-known actors.” Beside the musicians, just about everyone acting in a rock music video is an actor to some degree, but if we cannot easily name the person or cite him as “The guy/girl in ______,” as I can do by citing the actor playing the father in this video as “The guy from Animal House,” the actor does not count for this contest. Get it? Good. Let’s get it on!
So there I was, perched on the edge of the porcelain convenience, veins popping out of my forehead, heaving and straining to dislodge a particularly hideous agglomerate of Indian food, chile relleno, and soft-serv ice cream. I shifted back and forth nervously on the seat, pressed my elbows against my knees, and with one final, purple-faced cry towards the heavens, “ngggrrrgggghhhh…ALEX LIFESON!!!,” it was done.
As the sweat dripped off my brow, I turned to contemplate my peanut-studded masterwork, floating placidly in the water below. Then, like a bolt of lightning, two thoughts smashed together in my mind: one, Mod’s recent Last Man Standing challenge to find unlikely movie stars in rock videos; and two, my cry for help to Mr. Lifeson in my hour of need. My mind raced back to a video that, while not appropriate for Mr. Mod’s challenge, inspired me to post.
I ask this question of you: Can you think of a musical collaboration stranger than this one?
