Category Archives: I Like This Song

Night Music: The Impressions, “Gypsy Woman”

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I had this piece in my head when back a few weeks ago when we were discussing those lost years of the 60’s, btween Elvis and the Beatles, which as Gene noted were not quite so lost if you knew where to look and listen.

I do confess that Top 40 and pop, and the Four Seasons and then the Beachboys ruled the airwaves in my bedroom during that time. Those were also the days of Bobbys Vee and Rydel and Vinton, all of whom were safer than Elvis, let alone Little Richard, and well, in 1961, When Gypsy Woman was released, I was still just 9 (didn’t hit 10 till the end of October).

I do confess to liking Vee’s Take Good Care of My Baby, and the truth is by then the Elvis who released tunes like Return to Sender bore very little resemblance to the bluesy guy who covered That’s Alright Mama so wonderfully during the Sun sessions.

Though I am sure there were a myriad of songs in between Peggy Sue, which really triggered my consciousness and subsequent love for rock’n’roll, and Gypsy Woman, somehow with each I remember thinking at first listen, “man, how could anything sound so good?”

So here it is, with greats Curtis Mayfield (who penned the tune) and Jerry Butler leading the charge.

Swear. I’ll be back soon. More tunes festering, and the “What makes a great song?” issue is something I tried to tackle almost a year ago but it went nowhere (lots of words, little point).

 

Night Music: Johnny Cash, “I Changed the Locks”

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This is an old Lucinda Williams song that Johnny Cash apparently covered for the American sessions he recorded with Rick Rubin near the end of his life. The great thing about the American sessions is that Johnny hobbled through scores of songs and marked every one of them his own.

I think the musical arrangement here is bold but hamhanded, and Cash’s performance is a little wispy at times, and the whole abandoned thing is haphazardly mixed, but a fine song shines regardless, as it does here.

META ALERT: Rock Remnants on Song!

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We started RockRemants because we enjoyed talking together about the music we liked and saw. It is safe to say that we didn’t have a plan, and it’s safe to say we still don’t, but some themes emerged early.

For instance, we each have different tastes, and different ideas about what is Rock and what is a Remnant.

We also have discovered that this is a fun medium for writing about songs we like and songs we hate, thanks to YouTube, and one of the crosscurrents of our dialogue has been a discussion about great songs. I started this early on with a Battle of the Songs feature, that asked readers to listen to two songs and vote for the one they thought best. The problem was we had no readers then, so the vote would often come down to Steve on one side, me on the other, with Gene the tiebreaker.

Now, Remnants friend Ron Shandler has asked a simple question: “What is it exactly that makes a good song? I thought maybe doing a search on the site might bring up something, but it doesn’t. And I know that everyone has their own opinion, but I’m really interested in how you guys would answer that question. When you hear a song, what exactly is it that makes you think, “wow, that’s good”?”

Ron’s daughter, Justina, is a young pop songwriter. She’s winning awards, forging partnerships, trying to make her way as a musician and songwriter. So there’s that. But also deep in Ron’s biography were his days as an aspiring musician, before reality got real and he had to take the traditional route to earning a living: Becoming a fantasy baseball entrepreneur.

The Remnants accept Ron’s challenge. For as long as it stays interesting we’re going to explore this question explicitly. Here’s my answer:

I think great songs are catchy, original, emotionally present, and they sound important.

I like Da Doo Ron Ron because it’s as catchy as a nursery rhyme, and sounds absolutely totally inevitable (but unlike any other song), and it is epic, but it’s about that simple giddy moment of infatuated first love that has no name but is the most exhilarating feeling in the world. This pop song has got the whole package.

Night Music: Dion & the Del Satins, “Runaround Sue,” J.D. McPherson, “North Side Gal”

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I cannot even remember what I was looking for in YouTube when on the list of suggested items I saw a link to a version Dion’s Runaround Sue, just a fantastic song.

I am sure Peter and Gene, New Yorkers both, appreciate Dion, first with the Belmonts, then as a solo artist, who represented the doo wop bands, and the toughness of the New York streets of the 50’s better than anyone.

Dion’s pained voice and words reflected the unspoken angst of an era when angst was indeed not to be spoken about: but, at least we could live our pain vicariously through Mr. diMucci.

Dion, who had his struggles along with his hits, still lives and I believe still performs, but in the 1961, with Runaround Sue, he was dynamite.

What is funny is this clip, of the singer with the band The Del Satins, is just weird.

First, I don’t remember ever hearing-or at least knowing about–a song by them backing Dion.

Second, I could swear they are all just lip synching here, because Dion recorded the song under his name alone after splitting with the Belmonts. And, the song represented sure as hell sounds like the original recording.

But, even for lip synching, these guys have to be the most laconic band in the history of anything.

Even so, my man Dion is still at least trying to perform, but the rest of the band, especially the back up sax guy who largely snaps his fingers, and sings back-up with the two guitar players, is almost dead. And, when they go into their “awwwwwwwws” none of them moves even remotely close to the single mike. Not too mention their lips are way out of synch.

The piano guy is even worse, for though he is playing, or pretending anyway, he is largely looking at the camera in some kind of earlier wishful version of a photo bomb or selfie or something.

But, enough of the band, the audience is even worse. They seem to be in a nightclub, but no one has have a drink in front of him or her (well, ok, I saw one beverage, but it looks untouched). Otherwise, they are just fucking sitting there, while Dion is at least pretending to wail. And, even if the song is piped in from the original recording, that song rocks.

Yet not one person is so much as tapping their finger on the nice white table cloths, or even swaying just a little.

Which confirms my notion of how sadly repressed we were.

Whew. Glad we can all now have sex and drugs and rock’n’roll.

While we are at it, while thinking about this piece, I happened to hear J.D. McPherson on KTKE, in Truckee, performing a song new to me, but surely evocative of Dion and doo wop and rock’a’billy.

Check it out. Pretty cool tune, and though it seems the sax is overdubbed in this video, the sax player still showed more moxie than that guy in the Del Satins.

Night Music: Kool and the Gang, “Jungle Boogie”

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I’m thinking about 1974 because this weekend there is a high school reunion featuring the Smithtown High School class of 74 out on Long Island. I’m upstate and can’t get away for what would be a fun time hanging with old friends. I wish I could.

Which got me thinking about the songs of our senior year. These are the songs, if I was there, I would hope would evoke tears and lovely hugs, which reminded us best of how much more civilized we are now than we were than.

So I started sifting through the top pop songs of 1994 and discovered that the first song I could embrace esthetically was also a killer dance tune and just one of an amazing album’s worth of songs in a variety of genres by a band that would late become emblematic of disco dreck. But that was later.

But for one album, called “Wild and Peaceful,” Kool and the Gang were not only a great funk band, a great soul band, a great jazz band, and a great pop band, but, um, a great band.

If I were able to get out to the Marriott in Islandia tomorrow night and join in a rocking dance floor, the first song I’d want to hear is this one. Hello all!

Link: Purple Rain is 30.

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I came across this story today, by Anil Dash, which celebrates the 30th anniversay of Prince and the Revolution’s Purple Rain by dissecting it. Full of excellent detail, it also illustrates our current linking problem. Many of his links are to Spotify tracks, which don’t play for me. I hope they do for you.

But what was weird and wonderful and included in Dash’s story was the video of James Brown, Michael Jackson and Prince on the same stage, maybe not at the same time but nearly so. You don’t want to miss this.