Tag: 1960s

Ashes | Is There Anything I Can Do

The Ashes were a southern California pop group that formed in the mid-1960s. The group had two principal songwriters, guitarist John Merrill and bassist Alan Brackett (album liner notes). The star of the group was singer Barbara Robison, who had a clear and powerful voice, featured on “Is There Anything I Can Do?” The group’s drummer, Spencer Dryden, would later join the Jefferson Airplane.

The Ashes released only two singles before breaking up. But the core of the group, Merrill, Bracket, and Robison, would go on to form The Peanut Butter Conspiracy (which is either the worst or the best band name ever); they recorded two albums for Columbia and a final album for the independent Challenge label.

Barbara Robison continued her singing career after PBC broke up. Sadly, she didn’t recover from a collapse she suffered during a performance in 1988.

“Is There Anything I Can Do” (1966) was written by singer Jackie DeShannon and Nick DeCaro. The version in this video is from an unreleased demo acetate. The final released version features additional instrumentation by those studio stalwarts, The Wrecking Crew.

The tune is in a noticeably up-tuned E major. At 1:35, there’s a half-step shift up to F that sounds like the start of a sustained modulation, but actually serves as a very prominent sub-V (a relatively rare feature in pop). The song soon drops back to the starting key. The same jarring rise/fall pattern is repeated later.

Carole King and James Taylor | Up on the Roof

“By the 1960s, decades after Tin Pan Alley had moved from its original location on Manhattan’s West 28th Street and become a catchphrase for the popular music industry as a whole, writers such as the stellar team of Carole King and Gerry Goffin were mining the same escapist concepts, but updating them with a hint of postwar anxiety… (American Songwriter). ‘Up on the Roof,’ a hit for the Drifters in 1962, remains one of the most enduring songs of the latter-day Tin Pan Alley period (when writers labored at the Brill Building and other sites along Broadway), if only for its lushness of melody and lyrical sophistication. ‘At night the stars put on a show for free’ … In a manner similar to that of the first Tin Pan Alley writers, Goffin and King honor the tradition of quick recognition through tunefulness: hit songs, during the Brill Building era, needed to be heard just once to be remembered.

But ‘Up on the Roof’ also evinces a quiet sense of sadness, an urban dissatisfaction that moves beyond anything conceived by the rose-spectacled Tin Pan Alley writers of the early 20th century. Inspired, perhaps, by the realism of works such as Rebel Without a Cause and West Side Story, King and Goffin view modern Gotham as a place of chaos and potential strife: ‘people are just too much for me to face…I get away from the hustling crowd.’ For these city dwellers, escape is not just a goal but a necessity. The difference—from the perspective of songwriting technique—is that listeners are allowed to visualize the beauty of the flight ‘to the top of the stairs’ along with the reasons for making it … Hard, unsparing reality could be saved for Bob Dylan and the new generation of singer/songwriters who arrived in his wake.”

James Taylor’s 1979 album Flag featured his cover of the tune, which performed well as a top 40 single. Reflecting on his first years of work with King starting in 1970, Taylor remembered: ” … Carole and I found we spoke the same language” (The Guardian). “Not just that we were both musicians, but as if we shared a common ear, a parallel musical/emotional path. And we brought this out in one another, I believe.” It’s all the more powerful to hear Taylor and King collaborate on this live duo version of the tune (2010). The duet finds them shifting between her best key and his — while adding a surprising new dimension with the connective tissue. King begins in C major, followed by a shift to the F major (the same key as Taylor’s studio cover) at 1:15, then back to King’s C major at 2:22, then finally settling into F major at 2:45 for the balance of the tune.

for Shayna

For reference, here’s the 1962 original:

The Fantastic Four | As Long As I Live

“One of the more underappreciated vocal groups of their era, the Fantastic Four … was powered by impassioned lead singer ‘Sweet James’ Epps,” (ClassicMotown.com). “They came to Motown as established R&B hitmakers in 1968. Although their career somewhat stalled for two years at Hitsville, they released strong singles, recorded an unreleased album, and a passel of additional tracks still prized by Motown collectors and Northern Soul aficionados.

Recording for (the) Ric-Tic label, the quartet consistently connected with fans through a string of singles with devotional lyrics – some echoing themes of classical literature – perfectly suited for “Sweet” James’s near-breathless and deeply soulful delivery, which bears some resemblance to that of David Ruffin. They placed six songs on the R&B charts (three of which also hit the pop charts) between early 1967 and mid-1968 … (including) ‘As Long As I Live (I Live For You)’ (which became) a regular presence on soul music-formatted radio stations.” The band’s songs “were regularly played on Detroit/Windsor’s 50,000 watt powerhouse station, CKLW (The Big 8). They continued to record for Motown, releasing several singles under its Soul subsidiary label, until 1970, when they went into semi-retirement,” (SoulfulDetroit).

After pivoting between G# minor and the relative major key of B major, 2:15 brings a late modulation up to C# major before the fade out of this short single.

Burt Bacharach | The Look of Love (feat. Diana Krall)

We usually wrap up our week with an up-tempo rock or dance tune, but this week we’ll continue to look back at the singular career of legendary songwriter Burt Bacharach, whose work has been a frequent feature on MotD. Bacharach’s work not only featured a broad harmonic vocabulary — including plenty of modulations. It generally stepped lightly through complex harmonic and meter transitions which only fully came to light after several listening sessions, rarely “telegraphing” themselves in advance. Bacharach generally avoided cliché half-step or whole-step key changes; rather, he favored transitions between closely-related keys, which don’t hit the listener like a brick upside the head, but a bit more like the sun gradually peeking through the clouds. He hid all the seams and made the final result sound effortless.

Bacharach studied composition with composer Darius Milhaud, one of the members of the informal but influential guild of progressive French composers, “Les Six.” Key changes and meter changes were not special effects for Bacharach, but rather organic tools for expression. Composer/pianist Ethan Iverson reports that Milhaud “told Bacharach that he shouldn’t worry about dodecaphony and keep composing those nice melodies.”

Iverson continues: “In his 60s songs, Bacharach undoes conventional pop from deep underneath the surface. ‘Hooks’ are almost always a bit asymmetrical, but Burt’s are truly lopsided. In the background of his radio-friendly hits, there is an echo of bebop logic, an echo of Schoenbergian logic.” Lyricist Hal David, Iverson suggests, “searched a surreal and overcast meadow for unexpected rhyme and reason.” Iverson continues by saying that jazz musician Dave Frishberg, when learning to write memorable themes, studied “the ‘4 Bs’: The Beach Boys, the Beatles, Brazilian, and Bacharach. (‘Brazilian’ means Jobim, Gilberto, Mendes, etc.)”

“The Look of Love,” originally released by Dusty Springfield in 1967, was covered by jazz vocalist/pianist Diana Krall for a 2012 performance at the White House as part of the In Performance at the White House | Burt Bacharach + Hal David: The Library of Congress Gershwin Prize for Popular Song PBS broadcast in May 2012. While Bacharach was present for the performance, Krall’s emotional mention of David hints at the ill health of the lyricist, who lived only a few more months. Krall’s version of the #22 US pop hit, which features plenty of “Burt-isms” in her piano work, is in Bb major overall, but shifts to Bb minor from 3:59 – 4:10. The modulation is situated in the heart of an outro that seems lit only by hushed twilight (3:59 onward), during which Krall communes with her bassist as the two negotiate the subtle ritardando that brings the tune in for a landing. The final Bb major tonic chord rings out at 4:10, complicated by the quintessentially Bachrachian #11 tension Krall repeats several times.

You’ll Think of Someone (from “Promises, Promises”)

“You’ll Think of Someone” is sung by the two main characters in Act 1 of the 1968 Broadway musical Promises, Promises, based on the classic 1960 film The Apartment. Featuring a score by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, the show is notable for introducing the pop idiom to Broadway, and was among the first shows to use amplified instruments in the pit.

Performed here by Kristin Chenowith and Sean Hayes, who starred in a 2010 Broadway revival, the song moves fluidly between time signatures and alternates between E major and Db major throughout. Bacharach, a 6-time Grammy winner known for his unconventional chord progressions, died yesterday at age 94. In 2012, Bacharach and David were awarded the Library of Congress Gershwin prize for Popular Song, the first time the award had been presented to a duo.

Bobby Vee | Be True to Yourself

“Be True to Yourself” is an early Burt Bacharach / Hal David composition that was a minor hit for singer Bobby Vee in 1963. Bacharach played on and conducted the orchestra for the recording. The trademark Bacharach touches are there: horn introduction, syncopated melody line, and harmonic complexity. Does the emphasis on beats 2, 3, and 4 at 0:35 foreshadow “Do You Know the Way to San Jose”?

This record reached a respectable #34 on the Billboard charts; Bobby Vee had bigger hits in the 1960s, notably “Devil or Angel” (#6 in 1960), “Take Good Care of My Baby” (#1 in 1961), and “The Night Has a Thousand Eyes” (#3 in 1962).

There’s a half-step modulation up at 1:06 during the instrumental bridge.

Sam Cooke | Blowing In the Wind

Written by Bob Dylan in 1962, “Blowing In The Wind” was ranked at #14 in Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Songs of All Time published in 2004. The song evolved into a protest song during the Civil Rights movement. Sam Cooke’s biographer, Peter Guralnick, claims that Cooke loved the song but wished it had been written by a person of color, and quickly incorporated it into his repertoire. This rare footage of a live performance shows how deeply he connected with the song’s message. Modulation at 0:46.

Eydie Gormé | Blame It On the Bossa Nova

Eydie Gormé and her husband Steve Lawrence were fixtures on radio and television during the 1960s. Known mostly for their “easy-listening” renditions of songs, occasionally they reached out of their comfort zone, with varying results. Both Steve and Eydie released material individually, and also as a duo.

The tune here, “Blame It On The Bossa Nova”, which became her last Top 40 solo hit, was written by Brill Building denizens Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann (Songfacts). The song was well out of Eydie’s comfort zone. She disliked it so much, she tried to hamstring the recording with some intentionally fluffed notes (in particular, listen to the passage from 1:26 to 1:34), hoping the execs would decide against releasing the record. Despite her best (worst?) efforts, the record was a smash, reaching no. 7 on the Billboard charts. The public may have found the vocal flaws part of the charm of this “novelty number”.

The song begins in C#, and modulates to D at 1:18, following a slightly-out-of-tune instrumental passage.

The American Breed | Bend Me, Shape Me

“Bend Me, Shape Me,” was originally recorded in 1966 by The Outsiders, who were known for their hit “Time Won’t Let Me.” The tune was written by songwriters Scott English and Larry Weiss, who later wrote “Rhinestone Cowboy,” made famous by Glen Campbell. In 1968, a band called Amen Corner took the tune to #3 in the UK (Songfacts). But in 1967, The American Breed took the definitive version of the song to #5 on the US pop charts and #24 in the UK.

The American Breed’s big break was quite unusual: “On January 20, 1967, a freak snow storm that dumped twenty inches on Chicago changed the fate of Gary & The Knight Lites,” (the band’s initial name) … “when Kenny Myers, former Senior Vice President of Mercury Records, found himself stranded and met with producer Bill Traut in his studio at Universal Recording. After Traut played Meyers some of the band’s tapes, Meyers was impressed enough to sign them to his new record label … and suggested they change their name. ‘They told us Gary and the Knight Lites sounded a little dated, so we put a bunch of names in a hat and pulled out American Breed.’ The band’s first single was ‘I Don’t Think You Know Me,’ written by Carole King and Gerry Goffin.” (Billboard).

Two of the four members of American Breed that played on “Bend Me,
Shape Me” — bassist Chuck Colbert and drummer Lee Graziano — formed a new group, which included newer AB members not on that hit, keyboardist
Kevin Murphy and singer Paulette Williams. That new group became “Ask
Rufus”. Eventually, AB guitarist Al Ciner joined. Three of the original four AB members were in Rufus, though only guitarist Al Ciner stayed through that group’s fame with vocalist Chaka Khan.

Key changes are the main ingredients here. The tune starts in C minor; the pre-chorus (0:27) shifts to A minor; finally, the chorus (0:41) is in A mixolydian. After a percussion break, the cycle repeats.

Tommy James | I Think We’re Alone Now

Tommy James, along with his band, The Shondells, scored a Billboard #4 in 1967 with the just-over-2-minutes bubblegum rocker “I Think We’re Alone Now”. The song, written by Ritchie Cordell (who also co-wrote another Shondells hit, “Mony Mony”), stuck to one key throughout.

Over 50 years later, in 2019, James reprised the song on his album Alive, featuring only acoustic guitar and background vocals, and a much slower tempo. Missing in this version are the percussive “heartbeats” from the original, perhaps because at this tempo, they would be suggestive of brachycardia. James’ voice, perhaps sweetened by a touch of autotune, is really the highlight here.

The song starts in A; in addition to some subtle re-harmonization here and there, it features an elegant modulation to C at 2:18.