Song of the Week – Brown Eyed Handsome Man, Chuck Berry; Brown Eyed Girl, Van Morrison; Good Times Bad Times, Led Zeppelin; Brown Eyed Women, Grateful Dead

The use of the term “brown-eyed” as a coded or sanitized lyrical euphemism for a person of color has served as a clever way for R&B and rock artists to signal racial identity, celebrate Black beauty, or sidestep segregation-era radio censorship for decades.

One of the earliest and most famous examples is Chuck Berry’s “Brown Eyed Handsome Man,” released 70 years ago in 1956.

Written during the last gasp of the Jim Crow era, Berry employed the title phrase as a winking, multi-layered code for a brown-skinned Black man.  By framing his subject in terms of attractiveness, charisma, and resilience, Berry created an anthem of pride that celebrated Black identity while remaining accessible to mainstream audiences who might miss the song’s deeper social commentary.  The result was both subversive and commercially viable.

A decade later, Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” carried similar implications.  The song was originally written and recorded under the title “Brown Skinned Girl,” a phrase that more directly suggested an interracial relationship.

Concerned that such an explicit reference might provoke controversy or limit radio airplay in the late 1960s, the title and key lyric were changed to the more generalized “Brown Eyed Girl.”  While Morrison later suggested that the change may have resulted from a recording mix-up, music historians have long viewed it as a practical concession to the racial sensitivities of the era.

Led Zeppelin offered another intriguing variation in “Good Times Bad Times.”

Good Times, Bad Times, you know I had my share / When my woman left home for a brown eyed man, well, I still don’t seem to care.

Rock historians and musicologists have frequently debated the song’s reference to a “brown-eyed man,” with many interpreting it as a nod to Chuck Berry’s vernacular.  Given Led Zeppelin’s deep immersion in — and frequent borrowing from — African American blues and early R&B traditions, some critics view the phrase as an intentional coded reference to a Black man.  Within the blues tradition, losing a romantic partner to an outsider or a person of another race was a recurring lyrical theme.

The Grateful Dead’s “Brown-Eyed Women,” however, occupies murkier territory.  Unlike the Berry, Morrison, and Zeppelin songs, there is little evidence that the title was intended as a racial reference.

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine / The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean

Instead, the song unfolds as a Depression-era narrative populated by bootleg whiskey, family hardship, and fading memories.  The phrase “brown-eyed women” functions primarily as part of the song’s rich tapestry of Americana rather than as an obvious racial signifier.  Lyricist Robert Hunter was famous for writing evocative, open-ended lyrics and generally resisted providing definitive explanations for their meaning.  Neither Hunter nor Jerry Garcia ever suggested that the title carried a racial dimension.

As a result, “Brown-Eyed Women” remains an interesting outlier.  While listeners are free to interpret the song through a racial lens, there is no persuasive evidence that such an interpretation reflects Hunter’s intent.  Yet its title inevitably invites comparison with a long tradition of songs in which “brown-eyed” served as a subtle marker of race, identity, and cultural expression.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Rock Music in ’50s Films

Ignored           Obscured            Restored

For a very long time, I’ve been ruminating on the idea to write a series of posts that address the subject of Rock music in films.  It has taken me a long time to deal with the subject because it is better suited to long-form journalism, or even a book, than a 500-word blog post essay.  So, I’ve decided to attack it with a series of articles, perhaps by decade.  This is the first in the series, covering the ‘50s.  This has become timelier since the passing of Little Richard last week.

Any discussion of Rock music in film must start with Blackboard Jungle (1955).  The movie’s plot centers around a high school teacher that tries to educate at an inner-city, all boy’s school, many of whose students are juvenile delinquents.  The only rock ‘n roll recording used in the movie was Bill Haley and the Comets’ “Rock Around the Clock.”  But it was used to great effect over the opening credits and into the first scene.

It is often credited for starting the rebellious teenage revolution of the ‘50s and kickstarted the popularity of rock ‘n roll itself.

The Girl Can’t Help It (1956) was a comedy starring the sexy Jayne Mansfield.  But it also provided a showcase for some of the best early rock ‘n rollers, such as Fats Domino, Little Richard, Eddie Cochran, the Platters, and Gene Vincent.

Here’s the title song, by Little Richard.

A week after The Girl Can’t Help It was released, another youth-oriented film ended the year with a bang!  Rock! Rock! Rock! (1956) came out just before the holidays.  Wikipedia describes the flick “as an early jukebox musical featuring performances by established rock and roll singers of the era, including Chuck Berry, LaVern Baker, Teddy Randazzo, the Moonglows, the Flamingos, and The Teenagers with Frankie Lymon as lead singer.”  The movie didn’t have much of a plot, but it did feature 21 performances of songs by those artists, and others (The Johnny Burnette Trio, Connie Francis).

Chuck Berry killed it with “You Can’t Catch Me.”

How can we address rock ‘n roll in ‘50s films without mentioning The King’s best flick – Jailhouse Rock (1957).  This movie, starring Elvis Presley, is a vehicle for his songs but also has a strong storyline (unlike most of his ‘60s films that have very weak screenplays).  The title song is a classic!  But the movie also includes the great Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller penned “(You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care.”

This song is so good that it has been covered by countless artists, not the least of which include The Beatles, Buddy Holly, Joni Mitchell, Queen, Bryan Ferry, and Hüsker Dü.

Other films from the ‘50s with notable rock ‘n roll soundtracks include Shake Rattle and Rock, Jamboree, The Big Beat, Hot Rod Gang, and Go, Johnny, Go!  Check ‘em out.

Stay tuned for the next installment of Rock Music in Films.

Enjoy… until next week.

Chuck Berry has died

One of my favorite, lesser known, Chuck Berry songs.

RIP, Chuck.

Song of the Week – Too Much Monkey Business, Chuck Berry, Subterranean Homesick Blues, Bob Dylan, Pump it Up, Elvis Costello, Wild Wild West, The Escape Club

IGNORED OBSCURED RESTORED

Over the years I’ve written several posts in what I refer to as the “Evolution Series.” It consists of two sub categories. The first highlights the development of a single song over time by different artists [say, Train Kept A-Rollin’ by Tiny Bradshaw (1951), Johnny Burnette and the Rock and Roll Trio (1956), The Yardbirds (1965), Aerosmith (1974)]. The other traces a certain song style – i.e. a rhythm or lick – as artists borrow from the past to make it their own (the Bo Diddley beat to Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away” to “Magic Bus” by The Who to Springsteen’s “She’s the One” to U2’s “Desire”).

Today’s SotW is another collection in the second category. It starts with Chuck Berry’s “Too Much Monkey Business” (1956).

Berry’s 5th single introduced an unusual rhythm for the vocal delivery of the lyrics. He spits out words to simply describe the frustrations of everyday life, like losing your money in a pay phone (that is, if you know what a pay phone is).

Pay phone, somethin’ wrong, dime gone, will mail
I ought to sue the operator for tellin’ me a tale

Bob Dylan picked up on Berry’s lyrical delivery and raised the bar on “Subterranean Homesick Blues” (1965).

In 2004, Dylan told the L.A. Times’ Robert Hilburn of “SHB,” “It’s from Chuck Berry, a bit of “Too Much Monkey Business” and some of the scat songs of the 40s.”

It became even more iconic with the D. A. Pennebaker directed scene, from the documentary Don’t Look Back. of Dylan flipping through a series of cue cards with key words from the song, including one of Dylan’s most quoted lines:

“You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows”

Next in line is “Pump It Up” (1978) from Elvis Costello’s second album, This Year’s Model.

“Pump It Up” has some of Costello’s best lyrics from his early days as the angry young man.

She’s been a bad girl
She’s like a chemical
Though you try to stop it
She’s like a narcotic
You wanna torture her
You wanna talk to her
All the things you bought for her
Putting up your temperature

Lastly is “Wild, Wild West” (1988) from the one hit wonder, The Escape Club.

In 1988 I was the DJ at a Christmas party at the famous Cask & Flagon near Fenway Park in Boston. The friends that hosted the party were mostly into the “alternative” rock of the day (Style Council, English Beat, etc.) which was right up my alley. I still remember seguing from “Pump It Up” into “Wild, Wild West” and how nicely it worked – the true test being that no one left the packed dancefloor.

I can think of a couple of other songs that might be close relatives to this series – maybe U2’s “Get On Your Boots” or R.E.M.’s “The End of the World as You Know It.” Can you come up with any others?

Enjoy… until next week.