The 50th Anniversary Music Project Revisited

As my handful of regular readers will remember, it was at this time last year that I presented my parents with "The 50th Anniversary Music Project," to help celebrate the 50th anniversary of their wedding day. It was an effort, over the course of 20 CDs and more than 400 songs, to tell the musical history of the past fifty years. It was a lot of work, but it was also a lot of fun putting it together.

This year, part of their gift is Appendix I and Appendix II, which brings the collection up to date, by trying to identify a set of songs from 2007 and 2008 that fairly represent the musical landscape of those years.

This is what I came up with:

Appendix I: 2007

Keep the Car Running, Arcade Fire
Radio Nowhere, Bruce Springsteen
No Bad News, Patty Griffin
How Long, The Eagles
Words, Lucinda Williams
Our Country, John Mellencamp
Effect and Cause, The White Stripes
Heart of Matters, Ben Harper
Creedence Song, John Fogerty
Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues, Bryan Ferry
All the Old Showstoppers, The New Pornographers
Jimmy, M.I.A.
Lion of Judah, Prince
’92 Subaru, Fountains of Wayne
Halloween Head, Ryan Adams
Only You, Dwight Yoakam
The Alley Song, Lyle Lovett & His Large Band
Killing the Blues, Robert Plant & Alison Krauss
Dreamworld, Rilo Kiley

Appendix II: 2008

Long Before My Time, The Baseball Project
Golden Bear, Alejandro Escovedo
You Can’t Count On Me, Counting Crows
Mr. Richards, R.E.M.
Modern Guilt, Beck
Acid Jazz Singer, The Fratellis
Disco Lies, Moby
4 Minutes, Madonna with Justin Timberlake
A-Punk, Vampire Weekend
Motivation, Sheryl Crow
My Three Sons, Elvis Costello
Buffalo, Kathleen Edwards
In the Shape of A Heart, Jackson Browne
With My Eyes Closed, The Raveonettes
Jena, John Mellencamp
Here’s to the Halcyon, Old 97s
I Believe In You, Cat Power
Lover of the Bayou, Mudcrutch

The 50 Music Project: Final Chapter

XXV. Cut to Black, Over and Out

Don't Stop Believin', Journey

There really could be no other way to end it.

Pop or rock songs have played key parts in movies and television for years. There probably isn't anyone who doesn't have an image in their mind of a great song placed within the context of a film: whether it be the funeral cortege heading over the bridge in The Big Chill while "You Can't Always Get What You Want" plays, "Gimme Shelter" serving as the introduction to The Departed, the brilliant use of Smokey Robinson's "The Love I Saw in You Was Just a Mirage" in American Gigolo, or countless others. For a while, you hear the song, you think of the movie, and then you forget the connection, until and unless you happen to see the movie again at some point in the future.

But this one is different. For anyone who watched the final episode of The Sopranos, it will be impossible to ever again hear this song without thinking of Tony and his family sitting in that diner, waiting for a climax that never comes - a climax that David Chase brilliantly chose to leave in the imaginations of the viewers.

It truly was a great moment in television history, one that will be talked about for as long as people care about great television. Thousands and thousands of words were written about that final scene, but I'm not sure that anyone said it better than Matt Zoller Seitz:

So often on The Sopranos, when a character or characters spend a lot of screen time shooting the breeze or fixating on some mundane bit of business, the non-drama is followed by a beat-down or a bullet in the brain; your attention starts to wander and then WHAM. We expect the same dynamic this time; but Meadow successfully parks the car. She walks across the street. We think she might get hit by a car; she does not. Cut to the inside of the restaurant; Tony looks up at the sound of the bell ringing; cut to black.

The sound cuts out, too.

The credits roll.

There is no music.

What happens next?

We don't know. We'll never know.

What we do know is that "Don't Stop Believin," the song that Tony chose to play on that jukebox on what might have been the last night of his life, ceased belonging to Journey the moment that the scene ended. Like it or not, that song now belongs to Tony Soprano.

And with that, the 50th Anniversary Music Project comes to an end. 50 years, 421 songs, and if one were inclined to do such a thing, they might find that it would fill up 20 CDs. It was great fun, and while it was also a lot of work, I'm sorry it had to come to an end. I hope everyone who had a chance to read it, or at least part of it, enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it all together.

And thanks, mom and dad, for providing the inspiration.

The 50 Music Project: Nearly There!

XXIV. The New Millennium

Brand New Day, Sting

This song will always remind me of New Year’s Eve 1999, when Sting sang it for a very well-heeled party of revelers ringing in the new millennium at Rockefeller Center.

I Was In The House When The House Burned Down, Warren Zevon

As Greil Marcus wrote, the song was "Excitable Boy with humor intact, but no longer a joke, because when the house burned down the singer found he had nowhere else to go."

Woke Up This Morning, A3
Get This Party Started, Pink

I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow, Soggy Bottom Boys

There are probably people who think that George Clooney really sang this song, but in fact the vocal belongs to Dan Tyminski, the great vocalist and guitarist with Union Station, Alison Krauss’ band.

Run On, Moby
You Said Something, PJ Harvey

My City of Ruins, Bruce Springsteen
Beautiful Day, U2

New Favorite, Alison Krauss & Union Station

Greil Marcus once wrote, when describing a list of his favorite songs and albums, that the works “seemed like miracles” to him. On this song, the voice of Alison Krauss is nothing less than a miracle. The song is slow, almost painfully slow, but never once deviates from the tone Krauss sets from the very first note. Yet, the tension builds throughout, and finally comes to a crescendo with the final uttering of “I know you’ve got a new favorite…” Haunting, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

A Little Less Conversation, Elvis Presley

The King is Dead. Long Live the King!

Mil Besos, Patty Griffin

“I lost my heart on the thousand kisses that I left on your lips." It sounds much better in Spanish. The first perfect album of the new millennium.

My Ride’s Here, Warren Zevon
The Rising, Bruce Springsteen
Lonesome Tears, Beck

Extreme Ways, Moby

Thanks to the savvy marketing ability of Moby, this is probably best known as Jason Bourne’s theme song.

Clocks, Coldplay
Flake, Jack Johnson
12:51, The Strokes
Hotel Yorba, The White Stripes
Hey Ya, Outkast
White Flag, Dido

Keep Me In Your Heart, Warren Zevon

Against all odds, the final album, The Wind, was wonderful, certainly the most consistent and well-produced album of his career. Less than two weeks after its release, he died. And the following year, he finally won a Grammy.

Everything Must Go, Steely Dan

Even for seasoned cynics like Becker and Fagen, this song set new standards for sardonic.

The Reason, Hoobastank

One of those perfect pop songs that comes around every now and then, seemingly out of nowhere.

Little Digger, Liz Phair
Vertigo, U2
Devils and Dust, Bruce Springsteen
Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand

Since U Been Gone, Kelly Clarkson

Without question, the best song to come out of American Idol.

Hollaback Girl, Gwen Stefani
Summerlong, Kathleen Edwards

Hurt, Johnny Cash

The Man in Black's decade long collaboration with Rick Rubin reached its high-water mark with this amazing recording of the Trent Reznor song. The performance and the production were so soulful, so terrifying, that the song is not likely ever to be known again as belonging to Trent Reznor.

Dare, Gorillaz
Biggest Mistake, The Rolling Stones

Black Cadillac, Rosanne Cash

Within the span of 18 months, Rosanne Cash lost her father, her mother, and her stepmother. Her tribute to the three was Black Cadillac. At first blush, I compared the album to “Blonde on Blonde” and “Exile on Main Street”; only time will tell if it has the lasting impact of those two classics. The brilliance is evident early, from the use of the ‘Ring of Fire’-style horns on this song. The use of two producers can sometimes be a bad sign, but Bill Bottrell's work provided a depth to the music that sometimes had been lacking in the past, and longtime producer (and husband) John Leventhal matched it by not ‘prettying up’ the songs for once. Simple, spare arrangements and heartfelt, moving lyrics coupled with Rosanne's strongest singing ever made it her best album in a career of great ones.

Black Horse and the Cherry Tree, K.T. Tunstall
Pay Me My Money Down, Bruce Springsteen
Crazy, Gnarls Barkley
Not Ready to Make Nice, Dixie Chicks
Saving Grace, Tom Petty
Two Dogs And A Bone, Los Lobos
Someday Baby, Bob Dylan

The 50 Music Project: Into the Nineties

XXIII. It Was There, If You Knew Where to Look

By the nineties, I hadn't lived at home for quite a while, so putting this section together was mostly a matter of guessing which parts of my music collection my folks would enjoy. Thus, heavy on the lighter pop side of things, but not a lot of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, P.J. Harvey, etc. Even without those stalwarts, I think it turned out pretty good.

Wicked Game, Chris Isaak

The aural equivalent of a David Lynch movie. Eventually, it was featured in a David Lynch movie.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Bonnie Raitt

To my knowledge, the greatest song ever written by an All-Pro NFL offensive lineman (Mike Reid, Cincinnati Bengals).

Losing My Religion, R.E.M.
Dance With the Tiger, Rosanne Cash

Kiko and the Lavender Moon, Los Lobos

An entire generation of kids is going to grow up, and when they hear this song wonder, “why is this band covering that song I heard Elmo sing on Sesame Street?” The song came from their incredible album Kiko, their first collaboration with producers Mitch Froom and Tchad Blake. An album of amazing depth, perfectly illustrated by the Duke Ellington-like horns which kick off this song.

Human Touch, Bruce Springsteen

The second time around, Bruce got that whole marriage thing right:

Baby, in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin’s too much
I just want to feel you in my arms
Share a little of that Human Touch
Feel a little of that Human Touch
Give me a little of that Human Touch

Harvest Moon, Neil Young
If Ever I Lose My Faith In You, Sting
Mr. Jones, Counting Crows
All I Wanna Do, Sheryl Crow

I’m Alive, Jackson Browne

Jackson Browne has never matched the fame and success that he reached in the late 1970s, but his 1990s albums were criminally underrated. His election to the Hall of Fame was richly deserved.

Connection, Elastica
Seasons of Love, Cast of “Rent”
Push, Matchbox 20
Hand in My Pocket, Alanis Morissette

Walt Whitman’s Niece, Billy Bragg & Wilco

Playing music to a set of Woody Guthrie lyrics that had been packed away for decades, Bragg & Wilco’s collaboration came totally out of left field, and exceeded just about everyone’s expectations. A classic case of the whole exceeding the sum of its parts.

I’ve Been Everywhere, Johnny Cash

Not Dark Yet, Bob Dylan

After nearly two decades of work that could only be classified as mediocre when judged against that which had come before, the release of Time Out of Mind in 1997 qualifies as one of the great moments in rock history. As good as anything Dylan has ever done, it was (in the words of Greil Marcus) “a bleak, blasted album,” one that proved in no uncertain terms that Dylan could still have an impact. A decade later, he is still going strong.

Ray of Light, Madonna
Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, Lucinda Williams

Ghost In This House, Alison Krauss

The voice of Alison Krauss on this song is nothing less than a gift from God.

Man! I Feel Like A Woman, Shania Twain
I Try, Macy Gray
Smooth, Santana featuring Rob Thomas

The 50 Music Project: New Wave

XXI. Top Down Music For A Hard Top World

If someone put a gun to my head and forced me to pick one genre of music to listen to for the rest of my life, I would probably choose New Wave/Punk. What seemed like a fad when the songs first started to hit the airwaves around ’76 and ’77 turned into what Christgau termed “New Wave Hegemony” by the end of 1978. It seemed like every band in the world was pulling out their black suits and skinny ties. Many (most?) of them turned out to be poseurs of the worst kind, but the best music of the era remains vital to this day. Had I been creating this history for someone other than my parents, I would have included bands like The Sex Pistols, Gang of Four, X, Wire, Television, The Adverts, and several others.

Sheena Is A Punk Rocker, The Ramones

For my money, this remains one of the great summer songs of all time; not to mention of the great rock songs of all time. I heard it for the first time during the Summer of 1977, a summer that I spent most of time working at McDonalds and much of the rest of it listening to loud music in my room.

Thirty years on, the song has a generosity of spirit that reverberates to this day. What teenager of any generation, boy or girl, couldn't relate to the lines, But she just couldn't stay/She had to break away? Pretty much says it all.

And how about, Well New York City really has it all? Remember, at the time, the Big Apple was going through some rough times. Howard Cosell had decried fires in the Bronx during the previous year’s World Series (“the Bronx is burning!”), it was the “Summer of Sam,” and it was the Summer of the (first) great blackout. Yet, it was also the place where something great was being born, with the sounds of The Ramones, Talking Heads, Blondie, Television, and others.

Pump It Up, Elvis Costello & the Attractions

Listening to Elvis Costello is like walking down a dark, empty street and hearing another set of heels. His music doesn’t make you dance, it makes you jump. It doesn’t matter that he’s stalking his obsessions and not you, because nobody ought to be this sure of his obsessions. But Costello appears determined never to reach that age when, as Joan Didion once put it, “the wounds begin to heal whether one wants them to or not.” This Year's Model, his second album in less than a year, is Costello’s attempt to make certain those wounds stay open. • Kit Rachlis, review of This Year’s Model, Rolling Stone magazine, June 1978

Take Me To the River, Talking Heads
One Way or Another , Blondie

My Best Friend’s Girl, The Cars

The phrase “top down music for a hard top world” comes from the initial advertising campaign for The Cars. Their first album was a breath of fresh air; they went on to a very successful career but never quite achieved the spark and verve that was the hallmark of the debut.

What I Like About You, The Romantics
I Wanna Be Sedated, The Ramones
Roxanne, The Police

Rock Lobster, The B-52s
Brass in Pocket, The Pretenders

Back in the days when I would do such a thing, I bought the debut albums by The B-52s and the Pretenders based on the covers alone. Looking at them, I just had the feeling that what was inside was going to be good.

Train in Vain, The Clash

The very first album I bought in the 1980s was London Calling, by The Clash. Ten years later, it was still the best album that I bought in the 1980s.

Whip It, Devo
Mirror in the Bathroom, The English Beat

Turning Japanese, The Vapors

You literally could not go a day in the Fall of 1980 in Deutsch Hall at U.C. Berkeley without hearing this song at least three or four times. It was lurking, waiting for you, around every corner.

Once in a Lifetime, Talking Heads

I was lucky enough in October 1980 to catch Talking Heads in concert, in their first tour featuring the expanded band. Made famous four years later during the tour that was documented in Stop Making Sense, the concert film directed by Jonathan Demme, the band had yet to add the costumes and the staging - but the music was never less than sublime. And loud – it took my ears nearly a week to recover from the sonic assault of Adrian Belew’s guitar.

We Got the Beat, The Go Gos
Dancing With Myself, Billy Idol
Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic, The Police

Mexican Radio, Wall of Voodoo

Artists like Stanard Ridgway are, to my mind, some of the best reasons to obsess with popular music. Always lurking at the edges of the mainstream, probably wanting to become just as famous as those who actually are, but unwilling to alter their craft in a way that might make it more palatable for the masses. Every now and then, one will slip in and remind everyone what they’re missing. This is that song.

Rock the Casbah, The Clash

The 50 Music Project: Everybody Disco!

XX. Everybody Dance Now

It’s not as if dance music was something new. But Disco deserves a chapter of its own in any reasonable accounting of rock history. The genre took the country by storm in the mid-1970s and, fueled by the enormous success of Saturday Night Fever, led to an explosion and reaction that will provide study fodder for sociologists for years to come.

As with any other genre, the product in Disco ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. On the one hand, you had true innovators like Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards (the latter perhaps the most explosive bassist since the days of James Jamerson at Motown) creating visionary works like “We Are Family” and “Good Times.” On the other hand, you had absolute dreck like “Disco Duck.” And then, you had just about everything imaginable in between.

Get Down Tonight, K.C. and the Sunshine Band

Got To Give It Up (Part I), Marvin Gaye

When you’re a genius like Marvin Gaye, you can adapt to just about any trend. With this song, he conquered disco in spectacular fashion.

Staying Alive, Bee Gees
If I Can’t Have You, Yvonne Elliman
Night Fever, Bee Gees

To say that the Bee Gees dominated the airwaves in late ’77 and early ’78 doesn’t really do their accomplishment justice. Nearly 30 years later, it just seems all the more amazing.

Y.M.C.A., The Village People

There’s probably little doubt that one reason for the vehemence of the backlash against disco was that it gave every racist and/or homophobe in the country a “respectable” outlet for gay- and race-bashing. The Village People, a great joke if you got it, were probably one of the biggest targets. Their songs were little more than fast bubble-gum melodies with a dose of heavy backbeat, but if you took the whole thing as a package, it worked.

I Will Survive, Gloria Gaynor
I Love the Nightlife, Alicia Bridges
Hot Stuff, Donna Summer

I probably shouldn’t admit this today, but there was a time in the seventies that I had a Donna Summer poster up on the wall in my bedroom. Fueled by the production of Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte, Summer began as little more than a “disco diva” (just about anyone could have sung her early hits, and no one would have been able to tell the difference) but turned into one of the most effective female rock vocalists around. This was her finest moment.

Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough, Michael Jackson

A young, confident Michael Jackson, acting as if he was poised to take over the world. And he was; what we didn’t know at the time was that he would lose it so spectacularly.

We Are Family, Sister Sledge
Funkytown, Lipps Inc.
Good Times, Chic

The 50 Music Project: Seventies Fragmentation

XIX. “We will never again agree on anything as we agreed on Elvis”

Throughout the seventies, the fragmentation of the rock audience continued, to the point where it was not just enough to dislike a certain artist, you had to publicly insult him/her as well. I remember a classmate in 1975 proclaiming that Elton John was “a disease,” and this was a guy who thought Harry Chapin was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

By the time Elvis died, punk and new wave had begin to hit the airwaves, disco was getting ready to explode, and the fans of all those genres had a unhealthy disrespect, if not hatred, for each other. All of this prompted one of the great and grand statements of the rock era, contained within Lester Bangs’ obituary of Elvis:

“If love is truly going out of fashion forever, which I do not believe, then along with our nurtured indifference to each other will be an even more contemptuous indifference to each others’ objects of reverence. I thought it was Iggy, you thought it was Joni Mitchell or whoever else seemed to speak for your own private, entirely circumscribed situation’s many pains and few ecstasies. We will continue to fragment in this manner, because solipsism holds all the cards at present; it is a king whose domain engulfs even Elvis’. But I can guarantee you one thing: we will never again agree on anything as we agreed on Elvis. So I won’t bother saying good-bye to his corpse. I will say good-bye to you.”


Tupelo Honey, Van Morrison
Rock and Roll, Led Zeppelin
That’s The Way of the World, Earth, Wind & Fire
Mamma Mia, ABBA

Sir Duke, Stevie Wonder

Stevie Wonder’s genius was a fact well established by 1976. But with that year’s Songs in the Key of Life, Wonder outdid even himself, creating a masterwork of such depth and diversity that it outstripped all that had come before it. This song, a tribute to the many African-American stars who had paved the way for Wonder and others, wasn’t even the best thing on it. But it brightened up the radio waves for weeks in early 1977.

Night Moves, Bob Seger

Absolute, pure brilliance. It seems like a small thing, but I’ve always loved the different ways that Seger uses the word “moves” in the song. Up until the very end, there’s no doubt what he means when he sings about “night moves.” And then, in the last, wonderful verse:

I awoke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Ain’t it funny how the night moves
When you just don’t seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in

Perfect.

Peg, Steely Dan
Rock ‘N Me, Steve Miller Band

Tangled Up In Blue, Bob Dylan

Who knew in 1975 that it would be 22 long years before Dylan would release an album as good as Blood on the Tracks?

Philadelphia Freedom, Elton John

1975 was the year of Elton John, and at the time he was my favorite artist. He scored two hit singles in the Spring, and then in May released Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, the first album ever to debut at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. In the Fall, he released Rock of the Westies, the second album ever to debut at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. During all that, a triumphant tour, including a sold-out Dodger Stadium – the first time that had happened since four lads from Liverpool had done it a decade earlier.

Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain, Willie Nelson

The album from which this song is taken, Red Headed Stranger, turned Nelson from the semi-famous Nashville songwriter and performer that he’d been up to that point into the international superstar that he remains today. It is an amazing album; in his Rolling Stone review, Chet Flippo compared it favorably to the Bible.

50 Ways to Leave Your Lover, Paul Simon
Heroes, David Bowie
American Girl, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
Comes A Time, Neil Young
Sultans of Swing, Dire Straits
Go Your Own Way, Fleetwood Mac
Dreams, Fleetwood Mac
Don’t Stop, Fleetwood Mac
Surrender, Cheap Trick
What A Fool Believes, The Doobie Brothers
Only the Good Die Young, Billy Joel
Lay Down Sally, Eric Clapton
Chuck E.’s In Love, Rickie Lee Jones
Move It On Over, George Thorogood
Hit Me With Your Best Shot, Pat Benatar
Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Queen

The 50 Music Project: Broooooce!!!

XVIII. "I saw rock and roll's future and its name is Bruce Springsteen"

There was never any doubt when I began to plan this project that Bruce Springsteen would have a section of his own. He has been my favorite artist for going on 30 years now, and in my mind he is, without question, the most important rock ‘n roller of his generation. I’m sure my parents would have been disappointed if I hadn’t included him, even though they probably aren’t the biggest Springsteen fans in the world (they like him, but they’d probably never go out of their way to get any of his music). Heck, I even quoted a Springsteen song (“Tunnel of Love”) during the speech and toast that I gave at their 50th anniversary party, so he had to be a part of it.

With the exception of “Spirit in the Night,” all of these songs appeared on the remarkable trio of albums that began with the release of Born to Run in 1975. That album remains a landmark recording, one of the most important records of the rock era. As Greil Marcus put it so well in his Rolling Stone review, there was a lot at stake for Springsteen at that time with the release of the record. With the pressure on, he delivered an absolute masterpiece, one whose drama and passion has never been surpassed, by any artist.

It’s no coincidence that Born to Run was the first Springsteen album with which Jon Landau was associated. Landau, an astute critic of music, film and popular culture, wrote the legendary column that became the tagline around which Columbia Records built its entire advertising campaign for Springsteen. He went on to become his producer, manager, friend, and confidante. There’s little doubt that artistically, Landau has probably been the most important person in Springsteen’s career. I can’t pretend to know how their relationship works, but I have read much of Landau’s work for Rolling Stone (which began in the late 1960s and continued through 1976), and when you read the things that Landau writes about great artists, you can imagine him giving advice to Springsteen, telling him what he should strive for, the things he should avoid, and perhaps most importantly, helping him create the themes and images that have dominated his work. Not “helping” in the sense of writing, but simply steering Bruce in the right direction.

Their second collaboration, Darkness on the Edge of Town, is a great album in its own right. The sound is less distinguished, but the music of the best songs is deeper, more mature. If Born to Run was dominated by innocence and the desire to escape, Darkness was dominated by desperation, and the recognition by the main characters that “hey, there’s a chance I’m never going to get out of this place.”

The River, a double album of immense depth and ambition, is an album that you don’t hear much about any more. It’s one of my favorites, probably because it was in the fall of 1980 that I saw my first Springsteen concert, and he played 17 of the 20 songs on the album. To me, this is where Springsteen became an adult; many of the songs on the record depict people who have come to grips with their lives, and have begun to discover the things they can do to enrich them. But on the other hand, for those who have failed, there are terrifying songs: “Point Blank,” and “Stolen Car,” one his very best, where the protagonist lives “in fear/that in this darkness/I will disappear.”

I feel blessed to have seen Springsteen in concert 8 times, over the span of three decades. I’ve seen him in Oakland, San Diego, Mountain View, New York City, and Sacramento. This October, I’ll see him again in Oakland (don’t have tickets yet, but it will happen – trust me). I’ve seen him as a college student, I’ve seen him when I was wooing my wife-to-be, I’ve seen him with two of my very best friends in the world, and I’ve seen him as an adult (or so I like to think) with teenaged children. He’s had something to say that has enriched my life on each occasion. He is one of the best.

Spirit In The Night
Thunder Road
Born to Run
Backstreets
Badlands
The Promised Land
The Ties That Bind
The River

The 50 Music Project: The El Lay Sound

XVII. The El Lay Sound

There was a time when I probably would have said that of the artists in this group, Linda Ronstadt was my favorite. I still own quite a few of her albums (mostly on vinyl), but they haven't held up particularly well, the exceptions being Heart Like A Wheel and Simple Dreams. What surprises me now is how well-regarded she was at the time for her interpretations of others' songs; since she wasn't a writer, that was just about all of them. Some of her covers are classics, but when she took on bigger game, like Buddy Holly, Warren Zevon (with the exception of "Carmelita;" her version is beautiful even if it doesn't quite match the original), Elvis Costello or The Rolling Stones, the results could be embarrassing. Both of the songs below made an appearance on her first Greatest Hits album, and if everything she did was this good, she'd might still be on the charts today.

After that I would have said Jackson Browne, who enjoyed a burst of creativity in the mid- to late-1970s that eventually would land him in the Hall of Fame. Late for the Sky and Running on Empty are both great albums, and the high points of The Pretender are arguably the best work he ever did. Since then he's never made a bad album, and his recent works have been criminally underrated, but nothing he's done since 1978 has quite matched what came before.

The Eagles? A great band; an incredible greatest hits album; the great Hotel California, and beyond that, a lot of inconsistency. I'm looking forward to their upcoming album, but frankly will be surprised if it matches up with the best stuff from their heyday.

Finally, anyone who's read this blog at all knows that there's no doubt in my mind today that Warren Zevon is the class of this class. One of my all-time favorites, no doubt about it.

Take it Easy, The Eagles

We gave Glenn Frey a nickname, The Lone Arranger. He had a vision about how our voices would blend and how to arrange the vocals and, in many cases, the tracks. He also had a knack for remembering and choosing good songs. Jackson Browne had shelved “Take It Easy” because he couldn’t complete it, but it was Glenn who remembered the song from some time earlier and asked Jackson about it one day. • Don Henley

Doctor My Eyes, Jackson Browne

The Beach Boys and Brian Wilson, they gave us California as paradise and Jackson Browne gave us Paradise Lost. Now I always imagine, what if Brian Wilson, long after he’d taken a bite of that orange the serpent offered to him, what if he married that nice girl in “Caroline?” No, I always figured that she was pregnant anyway, and what if he moved into the valley and had two sons? One of them would have looked and sounded just like Jackson Browne. Cain, of course, would have been Jackson’s brother in arms, Warren Zevon. We love ya, Warren. But, Jackson to me, Jackson was always the tempered voice of Abel. Toiling in the vineyards, here to bear the earthly burdens, confronting the impossibility of love, here to do his father’s work. Jackson’s work was really California pop gospel. • Bruce Springsteen, speech inducting Jackson Browne into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, March 2004

Love Has No Pride, Linda Ronstadt
Already Gone, The Eagles
Late for the Sky, Jackson Browne
You’re No Good, Linda Ronstadt

Desperados Under the Eaves, Warren Zevon

As Cain to Jackson Browne’s Abel, Warren Zevon became, and remained until the day he died, one of the great unsung heroes of rock ‘n roll. His lyrical and musical brilliance was apparent from his very first album, on which this song appeared. One of the great lyric moments of all time: “And if California slides into the ocean/like the mystics and statistics say it will/I predict this motel will be standing/Until I pay my bill.”

One of These Nights, The Eagles

We made a quantum leap with “One of These Nights.” It was a breakthrough song. It is my favorite Eagles record. If I ever had to pick one, it wouldn’t be “Hotel California”; it wouldn’t be “Take It Easy.” For me, it would be “One of These Nights.” • Glenn Frey

The Pretender, Jackson Browne
Carmelita, Warren Zevon
Hotel California, The Eagles
Lawyers, Guns and Money, Warren Zevon

Running On Empty, Jackson Browne

The lines that made the song:

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels
I look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through
Looking into their eyes I see them running too

Clearly, the seventies were taking their toll.

I Can’t Tell You Why, The Eagles

The 50 Music Project: American...Top 40!

XVI. “Keep Your Feet On the Ground, and Keep Reaching For the Stars”

I can’t remember exactly when it started, but at some point around 1971 or 1972, I became absolutely obsessed with American Top 40, the weekly countdown of Billboard’s Top 40 hits by Casey Kasem. I began keeping lists of the number one songs, and to this day if someone asks me, for instance, “what was the number one song in the third week of June in 1973?,” there is a good chance that I’ll be able to name it.

This section was also a lot of fun to put together - there were a lot of songs here that I didn't own (at least not on CD), which necessitated numerous perusals through the used bins at Dimple Records in Elk Grove and The Beat on J Street in downtown Sacramento.

American Pie, Don McLean

When I was in the sixth grade, this was one of the most exotic songs I’d ever heard. It was fascinating; at the time, I had no idea what it meant, and no idea of the meaning of “the day the music died.” While McLean went on to have other hits, this was truly a one-shot. Glorious, but unique.

Sunshine (Go Away Today), Jonathan Edwards

This was one of the very last songs added to the collection, thanks to heavy rotation on the commercial in which it now appears.

Let’s Stay Together, Al Green
Heart of Gold, Neil Young
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, Roberta Flack

Lean On Me, Bill Withers
Alone Again, Naturally, Gilbert O’Sullivan
Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl), Looking Glass
Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress), The Hollies

In June of 1972, my family took its first trip to Southern California, visiting Disneyland, Knott’s Berry Farm, the Japanese Deer Gardens, the Hollywood Wax Museum, and other highlights. We ended up spending a lot of time in the old reliable Kingswood Estate, and nearly always had the radio on. These four songs comprised the soundtrack of the trip, along with “Take it Easy,” which appears later in this collection. In particular, Gilbert O’Sullivan’s lament was in heavy rotation; it was quite possibly the most depressing huge hit in the history of modern pop music. But I have to say that it still works, even today.

Probably the biggest find of the entire search while I was putting the collection together was finding three of these four songs on an old collection, Billboard Hot 100 Hits of 1972, at Rasputin Records in San Francisco. It's a great store - five stories high, and to get to the top two stories, you have to be taken up in an elevator, run by an elevator operator who stands there listening to music on a portable CD player on his headphones. Too cool.

Rocket Man, Elton John

The very first album that I bought with my own money was “Honky Chateau” by Elton John, on which this song appears. It remains one of his very greatest songs.

Burning Love, Elvis Presley

One last blast of greatness from the King, before the rot really began to set in.

I’ll Be Around, The Spinners

Thom Bell was a genius; the true heir to Burt Bacharach. His production and arrangements for The Spinners, The Stylistics, and others, was never less than sublime.

I Can See Clearly Now, Johnny Nash
You’re So Vain, Carly Simon
Superstition, Stevie Wonder

These three were all #1 songs, either in late 1972 or early 1973. All remain as vital today as they were then, and can be heard on just about any given day on your typical oldies station.

Love Train, The O’Jays

I often wonder what the O’Jays must think of their great song of world peace and harmony having been turned into a light beer commercial.

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown, Jim Croce

Jim Croce was, without question, one of the most unpretentious stars ever to come down the pike. I never saw him wear anything but jeans, and rarely saw him without a cigar nearby. Were it not for his untimely death, I suspect he would have remained popular even today.

Reeling in the Years, Steely Dan

Back when Steely Dan was still a band, and had yet to morph into the Fagen & Becker show. One of the all-time great “roll the windows down, turn the radio up, put the pedal to the gas” songs.

Betcha By Golly Wow, The Stylistics

One of the great, classic rock quotes of all time: “James Taylor is merely a wimp – Russell Thompkins, Jr. is a Wimp God," Robert Christgau

Cover of the Rolling Stone, Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show
So Very Hard to Go, Tower of Power
Kodachrome, Paul Simon
Midnight Train to Georgia, Gladys Knight & The Pips
Hello It’s Me, Todd Rundgren
Ramblin’ Man, The Allman Brothers
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John
I Got A Name, Jim Croce
Knocking On Heaven’s Door, Bob Dylan
Show and Tell, Al Wilson
Takin’ Care of Business, Bachman-Turner Overdrive
Come And Get Your Love, Redbone
Rock Your Baby, George McRae
Rikki Don’t Lose That Number, Steely Dan
Sweet Home Alabama, Lynyrd Skynyrd

The 50 Music Project - AM Radio Rules!

Last night was the party for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. I'd been nervous about it for a while, because the expectations were so high, but as it turned out I needn't have worried. It was a wonderful night, one of those that remains with you for a lifetime. It was emotional, because in all likelihood, it was the last time that this particular group of people will ever be in the same place, at the same time. There were moments of sadness for those people you wished could have been there, and those for whom age has taken a toll. But all of that was outweighed by the sheer joy that you could feel in the room. A wonderful night.

Right up to the last minute, I was putting the finishing touches on the "liner notes" to accompany my present for my parents, the 50th Anniversary Music Project. In a way, I'm almost sad that it's over - it was a lot of work, but it was truly a labor of love, in all respects.

This next section was one of my favorites to put together, because it was really the first time where my memories of these songs and the role that they played in our lives was crystal clear.

XV. AM Radio 1969-72: From the Sublime to the Ridiculous, and Back Again

For a kid growing up in Sacramento in the late 1960s, AM Radio meant 1240 KROY, and if you were a budding music freak like me and some of my buddies, that meant that you went so far as to have arguments about which disc jockey was the best – was it Bob Sherwood, Chuck Roy, Gene Lane, or the Wonder Rabbit? And why in the world was he called the Wonder Rabbit? And why did he always say “eat a banana?”

There’s no doubt in my mind that listening to AM radio for as long as I did – even when the “cool” 8th graders (if there is such a thing) were defecting to KZAP on the FM side of the dial, I stuck with AM – contributed to the diversity of my tastes. Because on any given day during the heyday of AM radio (at least the heyday as far as I was concerned), you could hear everything from some of the greatest rock songs ever created to some of the worst crap ever released on vinyl. Nothing in this section falls into the truly, hideously awful category, but I tried to include several songs, mostly one-hit wonders, that skirted the edges. But the great thing is that, mixed with all of the greatness, those songs sound great as well. In the end, it’s up to the listener to make up his/her mind.

Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In, The Fifth Dimension

The Fifth Dimension record on which this song appeared was in heavy, heavy rotation at the Vaca household for more than a year. I also remember sitting at the radio on Friday afternoons, breathlessly waiting for it to appear on that week’s Top 5.

Suspicious Minds, Elvis Presley
Spirit in the Sky, Norman Greenbaum

Yummy Yummy Yummy, Ohio Express

So…dad walks in after work one day, and starts talking about this song he heard for the first time on the radio: “I swear to God, they were saying, ‘yummy yummy yummy, I got a baby in my tummy.’” Close, but no cigar.

Incense and Peppermints, Strawberry Alarm Clock

Man, when I was in 4th grade, we thought this song was as cool as you could possibly get.

Wichita Lineman, Glen Campbell

Glen Campbell was a ‘rilly big thing’ for a few years, and what ended up getting lost in his cornpone vaudeville act was the fact that he was a hell of a musician. This is one of several songs that Jimmy Webb penned for Glen, and it became the huge hit that it deserved to be.

Good Morning Starshine, Cast of “Hair”

Nearly forty years later, it’s hard to imagine that anyone took Hair – billed as “The first American Tribal Love-Rock Musical” – seriously. But at the time, there were nine simultaneous productions in U.S. cities, followed by an extensive national tour. According to producer Michael Butler, the reason for this was to “try and influence public opinion against the Vietnam War and end it as soon as possible.” O-kay; try to read that one out loud and keep from laughing.

Dumb as many of them may seem now, the songs remain wildly entertaining, though it would be difficult to find a more patently ridiculous lyric sheet. This song is probably the worst offender; for the bridge alone the lyricists (Rado and Ragni) should probably have been found guilty of a misdemeanor:

Gliddy glub gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Tooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song

But I defy anyone to listen to this song, and be able to get it out of their mind. Try it. Good luck!

Lay Lady Lay, Bob Dylan

How he got his voice to sound like this, we may never know. It certainly never happened before this, nor since.

Spinning Wheel, Blood, Sweat and Tears
Sugar, Sugar, The Archies
Hitchin’ A Ride, Blues Image
Little Green Bag, Norman Baker Selection

In the Year 2525, Zager & Evans

The greatest one-hit wonder in the history of Top 40 radio. Difficult though it may be to believe, their follow-up single, “Mr. Turnkey,” was a song about a rapist who nails his own wrist to the wall as punishment for his crime. I can’t imagine why that one failed to chart.

Na Na Hey Hey Goodbye, Steam

Dizzy, Tommy Roe
What’s Going On, Marvin Gaye
Bridge Over Troubled Water, Simon & Garfunkel
I Think I Love You, The Partridge Family
Imagine, John Lennon

This group of songs absolutely epitomizes what was so wonderful about the AM era. Conceivably, you could have heard these five songs in succession on any given day. One absolute soul classic, one of the great crooner songs of all time, and one of the most legendary songs ever written. And two pieces of glorious, fun, dreck. Yet, those songs absolutely belonged. And that, folks, was AM radio.

Maggie May, Rod Stewart
Fire and Rain, James Taylor
It’s Too Late, Carole King
If You Could Read My Mind, Gordon Lightfoot
Theme from “Shaft”, Isaac Hayes
Joy to the World, Three Dog Night
Brown Sugar, The Rolling Stones
Truckin’, The Grateful Dead

The 50 Music Project: Homestretch of the Sixties

XII. “We’re More Popular Than Jesus”

Depending on one's point of view, this was either the period of the Beatles’ greatest work, or the time when they evolved (or dissolved) into four separate entities from the true collaborative band that they began as. There is probably some truth to both opinions, and ultimately it doesn’t really matter, because during their last four years together, they produced an amazing body of work. They stretched themselves, and they stretched the boundaries of rock and roll beyond what any single artist or band had accomplished, or even contemplated. They truly were one of a kind.

Here, There And Everywhere
With A Little Help From My Friends
Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds
All You Need Is Love
Hey Jude
Something
Come Together
Let It Be

XIII. Beyond the Summer of Love

This was one of the most fertile periods in rock history. And it was the time that “rock ‘n roll” began to evolve into something more accurately called “rock,” defined roughly by Robert Christgau as any music derived from the work and influence of the Beatles. In retrospect, this was when the first seeds of audience fragmentation were sown, as AM radio playlists tightened up, FM radio attracted an audience, and performers like Joni Mitchell and Simon & Garfunkel paved the way for the singer-songwriter boom that would commence in a few years.

Like A Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan
Light My Fire, The Doors
The Weight, The Band
The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel
I’m A Believer, The Monkees
Son of A Preacher Man, Dusty Springfield
Born to Be Wild, Steppenwolf
Piece of My Heart, Big Brother and the Holding Company
In the Ghetto, Elvis Presley
Wonderful World, Louis Armstrong
For What It’s Worth, Buffalo Springfield

Both Sides Now, Joni Mitchell. When I was in the 4th grade, one of our teachers (Mrs. Dotters was her name) organized a singing event where groups of kids sang popular songs of the day – and this was the song that my group sang. Alas, some numb-nut parent complained about our brains being poisoned by the devil’s music, and that put an end to that.

Mrs. Robinson, Simon & Garfunkel
Folsom Prison Blues, Johnny Cash

XIV. The Greatest American Rock and Roll Band

Creedence Clearwater Revival was nothing less than a miracle. For a period of approximately 3 years, there literally was never a time that a Creedence song wasn’t in the top ten. And none of them were flukes – these were all absolutely classic rock ‘n roll songs, and completely different than most of what was hitting the airwaves at the time. Unlike most bands, who were following the example of the Beatles and moving towards a more “psychedelic” sound, Creedence was patently and transparently modeled on the sounds of Elvis and Buddy Holly, updated to sound absolutely modern and vital. It was a creative explosion that, aside from the likes of the Beatles and Stones, has never been matched.

Proud Mary
Bad Moon Rising
Lodi
Down on the Corner
Green River
Fortunate Son
Up Around the Bend
Who’ll Stop the Rain?
Lookin’ Out My Back Door

The 50 Music Project: Stones and Soul

IX. Would You Let Your Daughter Marry A Rolling Stone?

I'm sure that I heard "Satisfaction" and some of the other great early Stones hits when I was a kid, but the first one I really remember hearing - and remember dad letting me turn up the radio when it came on - was "Honky Tonk Women." At that time, I had no idea about the Stones' image as the bad boys of rock, and I kinda doubt that my dad did either. By the mid-seventies, I was convinced they were the greatest rock band of all time. I'm not sure I'd go to the mat on that today, but they're certainly up there near the top. And you have to give them credit; after years of releasing what frankly were pretty terrible albums, just a couple of years ago they came out with one that was right up there with their best. Not quite at that level, but certainly close enough to justify their ongoing existence as a performing entity.

Mick Jagger was never a rocker. He wasn’t a mod, either. He was a bohemian, an antiutopian version of what Americans called a folkie. That is, he was attracted to music of a certain innocence as only a fairly classy – and sophisticated – person can be. Unlike John Lennon and Paul McCartney (and Bob Dylan), his ambitions weren’t kindled by Elvis Presley; his angry, low-rent mien was no more a reflection of his economic fate than his stardom was a means for him to escape it.” • Robert Christgau, The Rolling Stone Illustrated History of Rock & Roll

I don’t know how Mick Jagger became the symbol of rock and roll but he did and I’ve had to think about him and his band and his music more than I’ve had to think about anything else in rock. • Simon Frith, Stranded: Rock and Roll For a Desert Island

Satisfaction
As Tears Go By
19th Nervous Breakdown
Get Off Of My Cloud
Paint It Black
Let’s Spend the Night Together
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
Honky Tonk Women


X. Sweet Soul Music

What can you say? Music that sounds as fresh today as on the day it was released. They really don't make them like this anymore.

Night Train, James Brown

I’ve Been Lovin’ You Too Long, Otis Redding

“Majestic” is the only word that adequately describes this song, Redding’s best if not best known. The tension builds from the first note, and the release comes in the final verse, when the horns and the piano complement the pained vocal – a man pleading, on his knees, literally begging for the relationship to continue. J.V.

Soul Man, Sam & Dave

Ice-cold truth, told as much by trumpet and guitar as by the fabulous interplay of voices. In the history of braggadocio, few have been so convincing. • Dave Marsh, The Heart of Rock & Soul: The 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made

Respect, Aretha Franklin

Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag, James Brown

With the possible exception of Little Richard, no one has ever made a rock or rhythm and blues record this extreme. At a time when Motown had made comparatively ornate records seem the wave of the future, Brown posited the most radical alternative: a record so totally immersed in rhythm that you barely noticed ornamentation at all. No record before sounded anything like it. No record since – certainly no dance record – has been unmarked by it. James Brown is entitled to every bit of his vanity, because in 1965, he invented the rhythmic future in which we live today. • Dave Marsh, The Heart of Rock & Soul: The 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made

In the Midnight Hour, Wilson Pickett

Stag-o-lee in a mohair suit, he promoted a sly carnal urgency, but it was “In the Midnight Hour,” more plea than brag, that made him immortal. Pickett climbed mountains, crossed rivers, braved storms, all within his room, until the door opened and love came tumbling down. • Greil Marcus, Stranded: Rock and Roll For a Desert Island

Try A Little Tenderness, Otis Redding

I only saw him perform once, at a revue in Boston. The audience was overwhelmingly black and sat through two and a half hours of mediocre soul music before Redding made his appearance. The crowd was growing restless, having heard too many singers say, “Let me see you clap your hands.” Then Redding came on. The first thing he did was say, “Let me see you clap your hands.” I immediately forgot the preceding two and a half hours and clapped my hands. The audience knew instantly it was in the presence of an absolute master. The band still had not played a single note yet every person in the hall was standing. • Jon Landau, The Rolling Stone Illustrated History of Rock & Roll

When A Man Loves A Woman, Percy Sledge

Beginning with “When A Man Loves A Woman” – Sledge never matched it, no one could have – this was soul so deep it seemed to rise slowly from the bottom of the sea, and, as each song ended, to return from whence it came. • Greil Marcus, Stranded: Rock and Roll For a Desert Island

Hold On I’m Comin’, Sam & Dave
I Got You (I Feel Good), James Brown
It’s All Right, The Impressions
Land of 1000 Dances, Wilson Pickett
Knock On Wood, Eddie Floyd
I’ve Never Loved A Man (the Way I Love You), Aretha Franklin
Sittin’ On the Dock of the Bay, Otis Redding

The 50 Music Project: Into the Mid-Sixties

VII. Mid Sixties Melting Pot

Now we move into a period where I actually remember hearing some of these songs as a kid, either on the radio or in the house. "Bang Bang" was a big favorite of my dad's, although the version I remember hearing was the Sonny & Cher rendition. After listening to that version on a used CD that I found, I decided instead to include the (superior) Nancy Sinatra version, which made an appearance in Kill Bill Vol. 1.

"Born Free" and "Georgy Girl" were also played a lot in our house. I like to think that my own tastes had not yet developed to the point where they could have an impact on that of my parents. But after all, I was only six or seven years old.

Bang Bang, Nancy Sinatra
Dirty Water, The Standells
Whipped Cream, Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
California Sun, The Rivieras
Georgy Girl, The Seekers
Born Free, Matt Monro
Cherish, The Association
Do You Believe In Magic, The Lovin’ Spoonful
Wild Thing, The Troggs
Turn, Turn, Turn, The Byrds
Higher and Higher, Jackie Wilson
The Letter, The Box Tops
Nobody But Me, Human Beinz
What the World Needs Now, Jackie DeShannon
California Dreaming, The Mamas and the Papas

VIII. A Tale of Two Divas

The "stereo" we had in our house was little more than a torture device designed to inflict pops and scratches on vinyl records upon each playing. Of course, the turntable was a multi-record changer, so most often dad would just throw five records on, and the sound that it made when one record landed on top of the other could be heard throughout the entire house.

Two records that withstood this torture were "Petula Clark's Greatest Hits, Vol. 1" and Dionne Warwick's "Golden Hits, Vol. II." The latter I have as part of my record collection, and can attest to the fact that it is barely listenable. Not because the music is bad, mind you - just the fact that the record sounds as if it was used for home plate a few times.

In fact, the music is brilliant - the music, lyrics, and arrangements of Burt Bacharach and Hal David have stood the test of time, and in Dionne Warwick they found their perfect foil. This is great, great stuff. Petula didn't have the benefit of a genius at her helm, although at his best, songwriter/producer Tony Hatch came reasonably close. And with "Downtown," he was able to create one of the great pop singles of the era, one that sounds as great today as it did in 1965.

Anyone Who Had A Heart, Dionne Warwick
You’d Better Come Home, Petula Clark
Walk On By, Dionne Warwick
Downtown , Petula Clark
Are You There With Another Girl, Dionne Warwick
My Love, Petula Clark
I Say A Little Prayer, Dionne Warwick
I Know A Place, Petula Clark

The 50 Music Project: Liverpool and Detroit

VI. Ladies and Gentlemen...The Beatles!

I Saw Her Standing There
I Want to Hold Your Hand
She Loves You
A Hard Day’s Night
Yesterday
Help!
We Can Work It Out
Ticket to Ride
Norwegian Wood
In My Life

For my 10th birthday, my parents bought me "Yesterday and Today," not really an album in the true sense of the word - but it sure sounded good at the time. My first introduction to The Beatles was probably the cartoon show; I can still remember the skeletons dancing to "I'm Looking Through You."

VII. The Sound of Young America

(Love is Like A) Heatwave, Martha and the Vandellas
Where Did Our Love Go, Diana Ross & The Supremes
How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You), Marvin Gaye
I Can’t Help Myself, The Four Tops
My Girl, The Temptations
My Cherie Amour, Stevie Wonder
The Tracks of My Tears, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Stop! In The Name of Love, Diana Ross & The Supremes
Dancing In The Street, Martha and the Vandellas
Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, The Temptations
Reach Out I’ll Be There, The Four Tops
If I Could Build My Whole World Around You, Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell
Going to A Go Go, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
You Can’t Hurry Love, Diana Ross & The Supremes
I Heard It Through The Grapevine, Marvin Gaye
I Want You Back, The Jackson Five

"The sound of young America," Berry Gordy called it, and for a time during the Sixties it truly was. It's not likely that commercial success will ever again be matched with artisitic integrity the way it was at Motown. From the incredible roster of stars to the equally incredible but unknown musicians such as bassist James Jamerson, from top to bottom the company was a hit-making machine.

50 Music Project Part V: Surf's Up

Part V. Let's Go Surfin' Now, Everybody's Learnin' How

Surfin' Safari, The Beach Boys
Misirlou, Dick Dale & The Del-Tones
Rumble, Link Wray
Walk Don't Run, The Ventures
Pipeline, The Chantays
Surf City, Jan & Dean
Surfin' Bird, The Trashmen
Wipeout, The Surfaris

I've never been on a surfboard in my life, and based on my few experiences on a skateboard, that's probably a good thing.

This is not exactly the deepest genre of this collection, but put one of these songs on at a party, and I defy you to find someone who doesn't enjoy it.

The 50 Music Project: Part IV

IV. The New Frontier

The Twist, Chubby Checker
Save the Last Dance For Me, The Drifters
Runaway, Del Shannon
Peppermint Twist, Joey Dee and the Limeliters
Green Onions, Booker T. and the MGs
Shout, Isley Brothers
Return to Sender, Elvis Presley
Duke of Earl, Gene Chandler
The Loco-Motion, Little Eva
Louie Louie, The Kingsmen
It’s My Party, Lesley Gore
You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’, The Righteous Brothers
Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
Stuck On You, Elvis Presley
Do You Love Me, The Contours
Oh Pretty Woman, Roy Orbison
Runaround Sue, Dion
The Times They Are A Changin’, Bob Dylan
Crazy, Patsy Cline
Stand By Me, Ben E. King

Now we head into the early 1960s. The conventional wisdom says that this was a down period for rock 'n roll, and compared to some other eras, it probably was. But one look at this list, which is hardly comprehensive, demonstrates that there was a lot of good stuff - a lot - released during this period. The one song on the list that I have a clear memory of hearing during this time - dancing to it, even - was "The Twist."

This section also started out a lot longer, but in the end had to be cut so that other, later sections could include songs that just had to be a part of the collection. The main sacrifice here was girl groups, particularly those produced by Phil Spector. Painful cuts, but necessary.

The 50 Music Project: Parts II and III

The next installment...

II. The Birth of Soul (Sam & Ray)

I Got A Woman, Ray Charles
Wonderful World, Sam Cooke
What'd I Say, Ray Charles
Twistin' the Night Away, Sam Cooke
The Night Time is the Right Time, Ray Charles
Somebody Have Mercy, Sam Cooke
Georgia On My Mind, Ray Charles
Ain't That Good News, Sam Cooke
Hit the Road Jack, Ray Charles
A Change Is Gonna Come, Sam Cooke

The hardest part of this section was figuring out which Sam Cooke songs to include. "Somebody Have Mercy" and "Ain't That Good News" weren't the most obvious choices, but they represent Cooke at his best, stretching himself to the limit and reaching a frenzy that his more famous (and, admittedly great) songs couldn't quite match. As for Ray Charles...what can I say? Genius hardly seems to do his work justice.

III. One For the Road

I Get A Kick Out of You
Only the Lonely
You Make Me Feel So Young
One For My Baby
I've Got You Under My Skin

- Frank Sinatra

In 1980, I was listening to The Clash, The Pretenders, The Ramones, Gang of Four, Warren Zevon, Peter Gabriel, Bruce Springsteen, Robin Lane & the Chartbusters...the list goes on. Frank Sinatra was the furthest thing from my mind. And then, late that summer, the latest issue of Rolling Stone arrived, with a review of a Sinatra concert penned by Tom Carson, titled "The Majestic Artistry of Frank Sinatra." Sinatra in Rolling Stone? Surely that had to be a joke. And from Tom Carson, of all people? Fan of Lou Reed and The Ramones? Didn't make much sense. But the way that Carson laid it out - well, the idea of Frank Sinatra as a great artist sure sounded compelling.

It was a few more years before I bought my first Sinatra album, "Where Are You?," his greatest collaboration with Gordon Jenkins. But that was just scratching the surface. All of the songs above resulted from one of the greatest musical collaborations of all time, Sinatra's work with arranger and conductor Nelson Riddle. The importance of that collaboration really can't be overstated - from the exuberant Songs for Swingin' Lovers to the melancholy Frank Sinatra Sings For Only the Lonely, there was never anything less than a transcendent moment. These five songs represent the best of the best, and can stand against any music produced in the past 50 years, with head held proudly.

The 50th Anniversary Music Project (Status Report)

As previously reported, I've spent much of the year compiling a collection of popular (and semi-popular) music released over the past fifty years, as a gift for my parents on their 50th wedding anniversary. It's been a ton of work, but it's also been a ton of fun - figuring out what to put on, what to leave off, searching for songs on CD that I previously owned only on vinyl, and finding songs that I've never owned, but ones that played a key role in various parts of family history.

Music has always been one of my obsessions, and my brothers and I listened to a lot of different stuff as we were growing up. Some of it was great, and some of it was dreck. The goal of the project was to create a compilation that was true to that history, but also true to the history of rock and roll itself - in other words, good stuff.

The anniversary is now less than a month away, and now I'm in the process of putting liner notes together, including my own thoughts on many of the songs, as well as classic writing about them from such critical luminaries as Greil Marcus, Dave Marsh, Robert Christgau, Paul Nelson, Lester Bangs, and others.

In the meantime, over the next few weeks I'll write a bit about each of the sections within the compilation. Without further ado...

I. Have You Heard The News? There’s Good Rockin’ Tonight

Jailhouse Rock, Elvis Presley
Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On, Jerry Lee Lewis
School Day, Chuck Berry
That’ll Be The Day, Buddy Holly
Wake Up Little Susie, The Everly Brothers
At The Hop, Danny and the Juniors
Summertime Blues, Eddie Cochran
Chantilly Lace, The Big Bopper
Peggy Sue, Buddy Holly
Johnny B. Goode, Chuck Berry
Great Balls of Fire, Jerry Lee Lewis
All Shook Up, Elvis Presley
Good Golly Miss Molly, Little Richard
Do Ya Wanna Dance, Bobby Freeman
Ain’t That A Shame, Fats Domino
The Girl Can’t Help It, Little Richard
I Only Have Eyes For You, The Flamingos
Rave On, Buddy Holly
Tequila, The Champs

The most difficult part of this section was keeping it to a manageable size; in an early draft it was nearly twice as long. Most of the songs here are fairly obvious choices, but obviously any collection of this type has to include the titans: Elvis, Buddy, Jerry Lee, Little Richard, and Chuck Berry. The other songs are classics in their own right, with several of them appearing on the soundtrack of one of my parents' favorite movies, American Graffiti.

When looking for some of the songs to put this section together, I was lucky enough to find a 5-year collection of Billboard #1 hits covering 1957-61, and a used copy of the soundtrack from the aforementioned American Graffiti. As it was on many other occasions, the used section of Dimple Records in Elk Grove was a Godsend.

The 50 Music Project: A Major Find

I should have known that Rasputin would come through for me. One of my favorite haunts during my two years in Berkeley, it was where I bought many albums that remain on my all-time favorite list today - including The River by Bruce Springsteen, Gold and Platinum Band by Lynyrd Skynyrd, Sandinista by The Clash, and Avalon by Roxy Music.

It wasn't at the Berkeley store, but the San Francisco edition (on Powell Street, just off of Union Square) where I found "Billboard 1972 Top Rock 'n Roll Hits," which includes three songs that are key to the 50th Anniversary Music Project: Alone Again (Naturally) by Gilbert O'Sullivan, Brandy (You're A Fine Girl) by Looking Glass, and Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress) by The Hollies. Lest one think that I've lost my sanity, those three songs were major parts of the soundtrack of our first family trip to Disneyland, made in the late, great Kingswood Estate in June 1972.

The SF Rasputin is great - five stories, and to get past the second story you have to take an elevator, complete with an elevator operator who plays tunes on his iPod through an ancient boombox. I'm here in the City through Tuesday, and I suspect I'll be back - there are a lot more bins to browse through.

In the meantime, thank you Rasputin.