Back in the ‘60s, there was a group of LA session musicians known as The Wrecking Crew. That group played on so many hits that you know and love that it is almost incomprehensible. But this post isn’t about the Wrecking Crew, so I’ll stop here and let you do your own research if you don’t already know who they were.
In the ‘70s there was a different group of LA session musicians that also played on many albums that you know and love. But they were never given a nickname – until now.
Guitarists Danny “Kootch” Kortchmar and Waddy Wachtel, bassist Leland Sklar, and drummer Russ Kunkel have been joined by Steve Postell to record as The Immediate Family. Their first release is a funky number called “Cruel Twist.”
Here is a shortlist of the classic albums these guys supported:
Running on Empty Jackson Browne (Kortchmar, Sklar, Kunkel)
Excitable Boy Warren Zevon (Kortchmar, Wachtel, Sklar, Kunkel)
… and many, many more.
Discussing the band’s recording sessions, American Songwriter published the following quote from Kootch:
“Me, Waddy, Russ, and Leland have been playing together forever,” Kortchmar suggests. “So it came together very easily. We recorded 17 track in three days. Two or three takes and it was done. There’s a telepathy that happens when you’ve been playing with guys for a long time. You gotta know what they’re going to do and when they’re going to do it, So you’re starting on a high level.”
“Cruel Twist” is a fine example of what these guys are capable of producing, and I like it!
In the early ‘70s, a film genre called Blaxploitation emerged. Wikipedia explains:
The films produced in the 1970s were generally considered a form of exploitation because non-black producers, writers, and directors sought to tell Black stories, and to sell these potentially inauthentic stories to Black audiences. The films, while popular, suffered backlash for disproportionate numbers of stereotypical film characters showing bad or questionable motives, including most roles as criminals resisting arrest.
That’s not the whole story. There was indeed some backlash from those that objected to the criminal stereotypes of many African Americans in the films. In fact, BANG (Blacks Against Narcotic Genocide) picketed theaters that were screening the film Superfly, even though it was the first Blaxploitation film to be fully financed by black producers.
But many moviegoers from the African American community welcomed seeing black actors in roles that portrayed strong, assertive (male and female) characters like Shaft (Richard Roundtree) and Foxy Brown (Pam Grier).
But one thing that most of the Blaxploitation films had was excellent soundtracks!
The most popular was the Isaac Hayes “Theme from Shaft.”
“Theme from Shaft” reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 at the end of 1971. The next year the song took home the Oscar for Best Original Score – making Hayes the first African American to win the award.
Listeners are immediately drawn in by the drum intro of sixteenth notes played on the hi-hat, followed by that funky wah-wah guitar. And who could forget the line:
You see this cat Shaft is a bad mother (Shut your mouth)
Curtis Mayfield, no stranger to political message songs, put together a masterpiece for the soundtrack to Superfly in 1972. The best song on the album is “Pusherman.”
“Pusherman” is interesting because the lyrics could be construed as glorifying the role of inner-city drug dealers. But knowing Mayfield and his politics, he was more likely attempting to show how being a pusher may often be the only way out of poverty for blacks, who wanted to provide for their families, when living in the ghetto in the ‘70s.
I’m your mama, I’m your daddy
I’m that ni**er, in the alley
I’m your doctor when in need
Want some coke? Have some weed
The “Godfather of Soul” wouldn’t miss out on a chance to take part in this trend. He contributed a great work – the soundtrack to Black Caesar (1973). My choice from this soundtrack is the melodramatic ballad “Mama”s Dead.”
In the movie, this song plays as lead character Tommy Gibbs mourns the death of his mother. Brown’s heartfelt vocal nails the emotional heft of the scene.
Mama’s dead, never again would she hold my hand
Never again to hear her call my name
But now she’s gone, her troubles are over, the pain is gone I wish, I had made her proud to call me son
All of these soundtracks (and many others) deserve to be heard all the way through. Give them a try!
I’m of the age that makes me part of The Beatles generation of music lovers. I was brought up on the music of the 60s and 70s. In my perception at the time, the beat groups that wrote their own songs were authentic and were speaking to me directly.
An artist like Tom Jones was too middle of the road for me. He seemed to appeal to “older” women – you know, the ones so attracted to his sex appeal that they threw their panties onto his stage. How corny!!!
But you know what – that guy could really sing! And while much of his repertoire was geared toward the over-thirty, Las Vegas crowd, he could belt out rock and soul with credibility. A great example is today’s SotW, “Dr. Love.”
It is a big production with horns and female backup singers. Jones’ powerful pipes ensure he doesn’t get buried under the wall of sound.
“Dr. Love” is a deep cut from the 1966 album A-Tom-Ic Jones. That’s the one with the cover that was banned in the US over concern that it might be offensive to his American audience.
Over the many years I’ve been writing, I occasionally cover a topic I call the Evolution Series. Those posts either follow a song that has been covered in many forms/styles or demonstrates how a rhythm has been used differently in songs. Today I’m stretching the concept a little further. Today’s evolution traces three songs with the same title, by three different outstanding artists, that are not related in any direct way, except that they all depict a lover’s obsession. The song title is “I Want You.”
First up is the Dylan classic from Blonde on Blonde.
The verses contain the vivid imagery that we all came to expect and enjoy from Dylan and the chorus switches to a very heartfelt, direct plea.
The guilty undertaker sighs The lonesome organ grinder cries The silver saxophones say I should refuse you The cracked bells and washed-out horns Blow into my face with scorn But it’s not that way I wasn’t born to lose you
I want you, I want you I want you so bad Honey, I want you
In 1970, John Lennon contributed a song to Abbey Road called “I Want You (She’s So Heavy).”
Everyone knows this one! It has several cool surprises. It opens with an arpeggiated guitar riff, quickly moves into the main theme, and switches into a Latin influenced reprise. About 4:30 in John practices his primal scream vocal that reveals his excruciating pain — it makes Dylan’s “heartfelt, direct plea” seem charming – then returns to the arpeggio opening. This continues for 3 minutes, getting heavier and heavier with each cycle – until it unexpectedly ends abruptly in a morass of static. Brilliant!
Elvis Costello released one of his best albums, Blood & Chocolate, in 1986 and it too contained a song titled “I Want You.”
The truth can’t hurt you it’s just like the dark It scares you witless But in time you see things clear and stark I want you Go on and hurt me then we’ll let it drop I want you I’m afraid I won’t know where to stop I want you I’m not ashamed to say I cried for you I want you I want to know the things you did that we do too I want you I want to hear he pleases you more than I do I want you I might as well be useless for all it means to you I want you
The slow, sparse arrangement emphasizes the darkness of the lyrics. Wikipedia quotes Rolling Stone aptly calling the track “an epic testament to jealousy over a former lover’s new partner.”
I wonder if any of these artists were influenced by the song(s) that preceded theirs. Perhaps there is a more direct connection than initially seems to be the case.
The Ventures were a band out of Washington state that earned their fame with a slew of surf rock instrumentals. Their biggest hit was “Walk Don’t Run” from 1960. It reached #2 on the Billboard singles chart. They entered the Top 10 again when their version of the theme song to the popular TV show Hawaii Five-O made it to #8 in 1969.
Along the way, somewhere around 1963, the band entered into a contract with the California guitar maker, Mosrite. From that time, until the contract expired, the band used the “uniquely styled, futuristic-looking Mark 1 electric guitar model” exclusively. It became their trademark.
Between 1960 and 1970 The Ventures released over 30 albums on the Dolton and Liberty labels. (I must have about 25 of them!) Most of them are listenable, but the one that I always go back to when I’m in the mood for that type of Rock is Wild Things!, from 1966.
Wild Things! is a theme album. Its mix of originals and covers almost all have the word “wild” in their titles. The best is one of the originals, “Wild Trip.”
“Wild Trip” rocks! It’s so good that the Athens, Georgia punk/garage rock group, Flat Duo Jets, covered it in 1990 on their Go Go Harlem Baby album.
I’m back! That is, I’m back with the next installment of my series on rock music in films. You would be on solid ground if you assumed the series was completed since my last post on the subject was back in August. That essay covered soundtracks written by Rock artists. This one covers soundtracks that use a compilation of songs by Rock artists as the soundtrack.
The granddaddy of them all is the soundtrack to Easy Rider (1969). It included cuts by a who’s who of counter-culture acts including Steppenwolf, Jimi Hendrix, The Byrds, and The Electric Prunes (yes, that was really the name of a band!). The movie also used “The Weight” by The Band, but ABC/Dunhill couldn’t license their recording for the record, so a cover by Smith was used as a replacement.
I’m going with Hendrix – “If 6 Was 9.”
In 1973, George Lucas released the classic film, American Graffiti. The movie starred Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard, Cindy Williams, Mackenzie Phillips, and a very young Harrison Ford. Suzanne Somers also appears as “the blond in the T-Bird.”
The ‘50s nostalgia story had a soundtrack that was consistent with the era. (It was also the inspiration for the TV sitcom “Happy Days”, also starring Howard.) The “oldies” format used recordings mostly released between 1955 and 1962 and were heavy on the doo-wop. It seems weird to me that this collection of songs was considered “oldies” when the oldest one was released only 18 years before the film’s debut. (Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was released almost 18 years ago, so I guess that’s an “oldie” now.)
One key difference of the American Graffiti soundtrack is that it was used as diegetic music – that’s music that the characters are presumed to be hearing themselves as part of the scenes.
One of my favorite songs in the movie is “Since I Don’t Have You” by The Skyliners (1959).
In his 1989 book The Heart of Rock and Soul – 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made, music critic Dave Marsh slotted “SIDHY” at #36. Guns N’ Roses brought the song into the ‘90s with an excellent cover version.
Two other important Rock soundtracks were released in 1983 — The Big Chill and Dazed and Confused.
The Big Chill takes place in the early ‘80s when a group of friends that attend the University of Michigan together reunites for the funeral of their friend. Appropriately, the soundtrack skews towards ‘60s soul and Motown. The song that I always enjoy hearing is the “deep cut” “Tell Him” by the Exciters (1963).
The soundtrack for Dazed and Confused is something entirely different. This film about high school life is set in Texas, 1976. The music leans toward the hard rock of the day, and every track is a winner. I’m going with Edgar Winter’s “Free Ride.”
Another great Rock soundtrack was compiled for the movie Almost Famous (2000) and was rewarded with a Grammy award to prove it! The Cameron Crowe film’s plot centers around a young (15-year-old) Rock journalist that goes on the road with a (fictional) band – Stillwater – to get a scoop for Rolling Stone. One of the most memorable scenes in the movie is when everyone on the tour bus spontaneously starts singing along to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer.”
Of course, there are many more great compilation soundtracks. In the 2000s, soundtracks were often used to help launch the careers of obscure bands. But that’s the subject for a later installment of Rock Music in Films.
In 2019, The Rolling Stones released a 50th Anniversary edition of their classic album Let It Bleed. It came in a variety of multi-format packages but had no alternate versions or outtakes. What the hell was the purpose of that? As great as that album is, how many copies do we need? That reeks to me of a money-grabbing rip off.
Fast forward a year to 2020 and the group released a “Super Deluxe” boxed set of Goats Head Soup (1973). Now this one was done right. It has a remixed version of the original album on one disc. A second disc has rarities and alternative mixes including three previously unreleased tracks. One of them, “Scarlet,” is today’s SotW.
Devoted Stones fans have always heard rumor that there was an unreleased track that features Jimmy Page. Well, here it is! Of “Scarlet,” MOJO magazine said: “A mesmerizing groove, propelled by three interlocking guitar riffs, this bafflingly-shelved gem points towards the crunching ‘80s Stones of Start Me Up.”
A third disc contains a previously unreleased, complete concert — The Brussels Affair— recorded live at the Forest National Arena in October 1973. Goats Head Soup has been underappreciated. This set proves that it is worth reevaluation.
Today’s SotW was written by guest contributor, Matthew Wells. Matthew and I have been friends for over 40 years. He was among the first guest contributors to the SotW, way back in 2009.
I came up with the idea of posting about a song inspired by a science fiction novel several years ago but didn’t feel qualified to write it. I knew Matthew was my man! In addition to being a successful playwright, he has a scifi novel in his top drawer that should be published. Read on!
When you think about songs based on works of science-fiction books, there are obvious ones that come to mind, like “Rocket Man” by Pearls Before Swine, which is based on the Ray Bradbury story of the same name, and “1984” by David Bowie (he wanted to do a stage musical based on the book, but couldn’t get the rights from the Orwell estate).
And then there’s “Fifty-Third Calypso,” from Kurt Vonnegut’s 1963 novel Cat’s Cradle, otherwise known as “Nice, Nice, Very Nice:”
Oh, a sleeping drunkard
Up in Central Park,
And a lion-hunter
In the jungle dark,
And a Chinese dentist,
And a British queen—
All fit together
In the same machine.
Nice, nice, very nice;
Nice, nice, very nice;
Nice, nice, very nice—
So many different people
In the same device.
The Calypso is part of a religion, invented by a man called Bokonon and named after himself, whose believers accept that life is meaningless but still want some kind of hope to cling to, even if it’s a lie.
There are three musical versions of it that I could find. The earliest is from the self-titled first album of the prog-rock group Ambrosia, in 1975.
In their version, the group added an additional stanza and a bridge:
Oh a whirling dervish And a dancing bear Or a Ginger Rogers and a Fred Astaire Or a teenage rocker Or the girls in France Yes, we all are partners in this cosmic dance
Nice, nice, very nice Nice, nice, very nice So many people in the same device
I wanted all things to make sense So we’d be happy instead of tense
The mix of organ, horns, and drums give this version a spacy, psychedelic feel, like the musical version of a trippy religious experience. Kurt Vonnegut is credited as co-writer on the song, and from all accounts, he liked this version. In a letter he wrote to the band in 1976, he says:
“I was at my daughter’s house last night, and the radio was on. By God if the DJ didn’t play our song, and say it was number ten in New York, and say how good you guys are in general. You can imagine the pleasure that gave me. Luck has played an enormous part in my life. Those who know pop music keep telling me how lucky I am to be tied in with you. And I myself am crazy about our song, of course, but what do I know and why wouldn’t I be? This much I have always known, anyway: Music is the only art that’s really worth a damn. I envy you guys.”
The song also shows up in “Ice-Nine Ballads,” a 1997 collaboration between Vonnegut and Dave Soldier in which Soldier’s arrangements for songs based on Cat’s Cradle are accompanied by Vonnegut’s voiceovers.
In this version, Vonnegut’s voiceover has the offhand cool of William S. Burroughs, and Soldier’s arrangement sounds like a Frank Zappa B-side. (Odd fact: Soldier is the musical persona of Columbia University neuroscientist David Sulzer.)
To me, these two versions of Vonnegut’s lyric are nice, nice, very nice enough, but neither of them meet the challenge of turning the song into an actual calypso, like something that could have been sung by Harry Belafonte. Or Louis Armstrong. Why Armstrong? Because the tune in my head is pretty much the same as Cole Porter’s “High Society,” which Armstrong sings at the beginning of the 1956 movie. To me, it has the right tempo, and the right tune:
Mid-sixties Chicago was home to a healthy group of bands that were purveyors of “blue-eyed soul.” Several of them — The Buckinghams, The Ides of March, The American Breed, and Shadows of the Night – had major Top 40 hits, many with daring horn arrangements, and solid careers in the music biz. But others weren’t so lucky.
Case in point – The Mauds. The band was able to secure a contract with Dunwich Records (distributed by Mercury) and released their first single – a cover of Sam and Dave’s “Hold On (I’m Comin’) – in 1967. It was a regional hit in and around Chicago.
Today’s SotW came from a later visit to a recording studio. “Soul Drippin’” was released in 1968.
“Soul Drippin’” was enhanced by a group of horn players that included Bob Lamm, Walt Parazaider, James Pankow, and Lee Loughnane, most of whom would go on to join Chicago. But the track was only able to attain the same level of success as prior releases – a pretty big hit locally (top 10 in Chicago), but barely breaking into the top 100 (#85) nationally. It deserved better and I’m sure you will agree when you hear it!
The Mauds’ soul credentials were solid. According to an article by Guy Arnston, re-published on the Forgotten Hits website, “Curtis Mayfield was so happy with the way they did his ‘You Must Believe Me,’ complete with Impressions-styled harmonies, that he promised to write several songs just for them.”
The band continued to perform well into the 2000s until lead singer Jimy Rogers’ untimely death from cancer in 2010.