Tag: 1970s

Gentle Giant | Proclamation (fan version)

“The Power and the Glory (1974) is, like Three Friends before it, a concept album featuring intricately woven arrangements … ” (Progrography.com). “You’ll also find quite a few ‘classic’ Gentle Giant songs … (including ‘Proclamation’) … Alternating between soft and harsh sounds, it’s an album of dreams and nightmares.

At this stage, there’s no denying that the band’s music had become, if not formulaic, at least idiosyncratic. There are the dizzying arrangements, classical excursions, heady subject matter and heavy rock all intertwined into four- and six-minute musical puzzles that are unique to Gentle Giant. I’d recommend you start with Octopus and Three Friends first, as they arrived earlier and achieved the same (or higher) highs … As the years have shown, albums about corrupt, power-hungry politicians are never out of fashion for long.”

The tune is built in D dorian until 2:07, when a huge unprepared shift to a Ab major chord drops like an anvil. But it’s not until 2:16 that we settle properly into the new key of F dorian. A few more harmonic shifts follow, but are often dwarfed by unexpected changes in meter, sudden instrumental/textural changes, imposing walls of tightly clustered vocal parts (3:25, for example), etc. As the extensive end credits of the video show, it took scores of fans of the storied UK-based prog rock band to create a cover version (2020) of this densely complex track!

From the video’s description: “This video marks the first time in 40 years that all members of Gentle Giant appear on screen and play together in a ‘virtual reunion’. Some notable contributors also make an appearance such as Jakko Jakszyk of King Crimson, Billy Sherwood of Yes, E.L.O. bassist Lee Pomeroy, Dan Reed of the Dan Reed Network, Richard Hilton of Chic, and Mikey Heppner of Priestess.”

Theme from “WKRP in Cincinnati”

“Today, TV shows feature all sorts of contemporary Rock and Pop songs. It has become a way to break new music,” (CityBeat). “But WKRP in Cincinnati (1978 – 1982) was one of the first shows to have the songs on its soundtrack (usually snippets of what the station’s DJs were playing) drawn primarily from current FM Rock hits … And it was always fun to spot some weird new band on the many posters decorating the fake radio station. 

The quirky little sitcom that many outsiders still bring up any time ‘Cincinnati’ is mentioned … was on for three years before MTV debuted, but in many ways it reflected that cable channel’s spirit in its infancy, integrating Rock music with an entertaining visual component and whacky personalities (DJs/VJs) and helping to bring some relatively cutting edge sounds into America’s living rooms.

The show’s theme song, given the catchy title ‘WKRP In Cincinnati Main Theme,’ was a breezy Soft Rock ditty that earned a singer named Steve Carlisle one-hit wonder status (if you even consider peaking at No. 65 on Billboard a ‘hit’).” The FM single was quite a bit longer, with several key changes back and forth between D major and Eb major — until E major and F major make their appearances at 2:02 and 2:27, respectively. The shorter version that aired as the actual show intro featured only one upward shift in key (0:38). Both are posted below. Many thanks to regular contributor Rob P. for this submission!

The TV show’s intro/theme:

The single:

Frank Zappa | Dancin’ Fool

“The disco era that brought us Saturday Night Fever, spoons on chains, and satin everything spawned an unintentional subgenre: ‘disco sucks’ music,” (MixOnline). “Rockers laughed and cheered for Steve Dahl’s parody of Rod Stewart’s ‘Da Ya Think I’m Sexy’ (‘Do You Think I’m Disco?’ 1979), and for that brilliant iconoclast Frank Zappa’s first bonafide hit, the #45 song ‘Dancin’ Fool.’

‘Fool’ debuted in the artist’s live set in 1975 and was first captured as a concert recording, but the song didn’t appear on record until he reworked it in The Village Recorder with the help of his then-engineer, Joe Chiccarelli (1979). ‘The live basic tracks were recorded by Pete Henderson, who produced Breakfast in America for Supertramp—I think with the Record Plant Remote truck,’ Chiccarelli recalls. ‘Frank felt at the time that his band played great live, so he loved the feel of the drum tracks, but 80 to 90 percent of the work, including the mix, was done at The Village, mostly in Studio A.'”

Perhaps just as much as his one-of-a-kind compositions, blistering guitar work, and precision bandleading, Zappa is best known as having been an astute social commentator — and his editorial on the burgeoning disco scene of the late 70s was certainly no exception. The tune’s intro and verses are built in A major, but the choruses are in C# major (starting with the short pre-chorus, heard for the first time at 0:25; the chorus begins in earnest at 0:29). At 0:54, we return to the original key for the lead-in to the next verse via a boisterous unprepared modulation. The pattern continues from there. Zappa played a hilarious prank with this track: while the tune was moderately danceable overall, the “IMayBeTotallyWrongButI’mA” interjection (1:54 and 2:56) adds a full beat to each line of the chorus where it appears, providing more awkwardness than most dance floors ever asked for.

The Village People | In Hollywood (Everybody Is a Star)

“… The Village People surprised everybody with this popular four-song (debut) album. Phil Hurtt, a good friend of Thom Bell and the writer of “I’ll Be Around,” arranged and co-authored three songs,” (AllMusic). “Produced by Henri Belolo and Jacques Morali, Village People exploits and promotes gay liberation in a little over 20 minutes of music. The vocals slap you in the face, the beats nonstop … the four energetic tracks — ‘San Francisco (You’ve Got Me),’ ‘In Hollywood (Everybody Is a Star),’ ‘Fire Island,’ and ‘Village People’ — practically clone each other, with the lyrics the only distinguishing difference.”

Hurtt was a professional lyricist who had written the words for the Spinners hit “I’ll Be Around.” To broaden the song’s appeal, Hurtt made the song more universal in scope, drawing on his own experiences in Hollywood,” (Songfacts). “Hurtt never tried to make it as a West Coast actor, but he had been there on business and had a good handle on the game that was played there.

Now it’s time to get a new car / You know the kind that has a phone and a bar …

Slip outside and call and have yourself paged / Get on the phone and scream as though in a rage

Before cell phones, this was a classic ploy in Hollywood: have yourself paged, then pretend to boss around the imaginary person on the other end of the line.”

After a start in A minor, there’s a shift up a half step to Bb minor at 0:45. At 1:29, the chorus shifts to a jaunty Bb major until 1:51, where the key reverts to the original A minor. The pattern continues from there.

Tanya Tucker | What’s Your Mama’s Name

“Tanya Tucker has been one of the queens of country for nearly fifty years, but it was her arrival that made quite an impression,” (TheRecoup.com) “When she appeared, she was just in her early teens, although upon first listening you would not think so, as she was an old soul singing powerful songs with an equally powerful singing voice that sounded three times her age.

Her first two albums, 1972’s Delta Dawn and 1973’s What’s Your Mama’s Name are very much of a piece; considering the wont of the Country music industry at the time, it’s quite likely both albums were recorded at the same group of sessions, much more likely considering the albums appeared within mere months of each other. “Delta Dawn” was her debut single, the dark and foreboding song about heartbreak that certainly did not sound like a 13-year-old child. It’s a fantastic number, and a hell of a way to launch a career.

On 1973’s What’s Your Mama’s Name, “the title track follows in the dark nature of her first hit, and is a tale of a mysterious stranger trying to find his daughter that he has never seen before.  Aside from the Southern Gothic quality of the song, is also an edgy tune for the era, dealing starkly with the issue of illegitimacy. Unsurprisingly, it was controversial coming from a 14-year-old, but the controversy helped to sell the record and cemented Tucker as a musician not afraid to go into the dark places others wouldn’t dare go.”

As the heart-wrenching tale unfolds, both 1:11 and 1:41 bring half-step key changes.

David Soul | Don’t Give Up On Us

“The newish Quentin Tarantino movie Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood is full of fascinating little period details, and one of my favorites is the idea that everyone in 1969 watched the same TV shows,” (Stereogum). “The washed-up movie stars, the psychotically violent hippies, the ailing cowboys — they all go home at night and tune in to the same cheesy procedurals. They don’t have options. Cable doesn’t exist yet. Neither, obviously, does the internet. There are three networks. If you’re looking for some kind of routine and vaguely comforting diversion, the shows on those three networks are all you really have … That was still the case in 1977. The ABC buddy-cop show Starsky & Hutch wasn’t even an especially big hit in its time. It did decent ratings, stayed on the air for four seasons, and stuck around in syndication for a while. Starsky & Hutch wasn’t a landmark TV show. It didn’t change the game. But it was on. So pretty much everyone in America at least had some vague idea who those two Bay City, California detectives were.

If you were, let’s say, an actor who’d never managed to get your music career off the ground but who was on TV every week, that exposure could change everything. You could record a forgettable ballad, and that forgettable ballad, combined with your own familiar face, could propel a record to #1. Starsky & Hutch was in its second season when David Soul, the chiseled and squinty actor who played Detective Kenneth “Hutch” Hutchinson, released ‘Don’t Give Up On Us.’ That year, Starsky & Hutch was airing against The Mary Tyler Moore Show and regularly getting wrecked in the ratings. But that didn’t matter. David Soul was just famous enough … (UK songwriter) Tony Macaulay produced the song for Soul, slathering it in dramatic strings and woodwinds. (It) has a hook strong enough to linger. It’s got a full, luxuriant arrangement … But ‘Don’t Give Up On Us’ remains a sleepy nothing of a ballad. It fills space, and it does nothing else.”

After a start in A major, the piano-driven track shifts up to Bb major at 2:43. The vocals seem a bit dicey through the transition in terms of pitch, but close enough for a 1970s pop ballad(?) — apparently! Many thanks to regular contributor Rob P. for submitting this track.

Al Stewart | Year of the Cat

“By the time Al Stewart finally achieved his commercial breakthrough with 1976’s ‘Year of the Cat,’ it was the culmination of a decade-long odyssey to bring the song to completion,” (Guitar Player). “Its bones date back to 1966, when Stewart penned a set of lyrics titled ‘Foot of the Stage.’ ‘It was about British comedian Tony Hancock,’ the Scottish folk-rocker recalls. ‘But the American record company had never heard of Tony Hancock and asked me to rewrite it.’ Stewart responded with a new set of lyrics about Princess Anne called ‘Horse of the Year.’ Not surprisingly, he says, ‘they requested another rewrite,’ … Luck would finally prevail on the third try. ‘I had a girlfriend who had a book on Vietnamese astrology, and it was opened on a chapter called Year of the Cat,’ Stewart reveals.

… A hallmark of the song is Stewart’s use of a major-seventh chord throughout the main progression, which imbues ‘Year of the Cat’ with a rich, wistful nostalgia. ‘Major sevenths are great and kind of cool,’ he exclaims. ‘I’ve probably never met a major seventh I didn’t like,’ … Released as a single in the U.S. in October 1976, ‘Year of the Cat’ climbed to #8 on the Billboard Hot 100, earning Stewart his first U.S. charting single … (and) remains a staple in the guitarist’s live set. He believes the song’s film noir undertones and varied instrumentation are pivotal to why the song continues to enthrall audiences. ‘The song’s longevity affirms that one should write about what one is interested in, without regards to fashion or favor of the crowd. Which is exactly what I did.’”

Built in E minor overall, the bridge (2:47 – 3:07) flips the emphasis over to the relative major key of G before the original minor key returns for an extended series of solos. The tune’s leisurely pace, lush textures, and storytelling focus somehow added up to hit status for the track, which at 6:4o clocked in at nearly twice the length of many singles.

Traffic | Many a Mile to Freedom

“Somewhere in Steve Winwood’s career, between the blue-eyed teen soul of ‘I’m a Man’ and ‘Gimme Some Lovin’’ to the made-for-the-80s albums of Arc of a Diver and Back in the High Life came a little bit of exploration,” (Music Street Journal). “He recorded with percussionist Stomu Yomash’ta and Mike Shrieve as Go, and Traffic’s version of “John Barleycorn” was a landmark in the then-popular folk-rock era. But as Traffic had its on-again off-again moments, the band was able to put out some great music, perhaps none better than this album. Besides the usual trio of Winwood, Jim Capaldi, and Chris Wood, bassist Ric Grech (another ex-Blind Faith member), uber-musician Jim Gordon, and percussionist “Rebop” Kwaku Baah … filled out the sound considerably. Fortunately the songs and arrangements knew when to open up and when to pull back. The result is a classic of the early ‘70s that still sounds fresh.”

On “Many a Mile to Freedom” (1971), “Winwood’s electric piano holds down the fort while Wood again offers some delicate lines on his flute. The guitar counters with some nice, simple arpeggiated lines on the between-chorus-and-verse space. There’s an extended ending here where the band locks into a good, relaxed groove.”

Various flavors of the C scale (shifting between major and minor) predominate the track, starting with the first verse (beginning at 0:21). Starting at 4:20, Bb major holds sway with a I and bVII chords alternating. At 5:12, we’ve returned to the tonality of the first section of the tune.

Ohio Players | Fire

“The first few #1 hits of 1975 were so overwhelmingly bland and narcotized and nostalgia-driven that it’s amazing, in retrospect, that something as loud and rude and noisy as the Ohio Players’ ‘Fire’ was able to break through,” (Stereogum). “‘Fire’ is literally noisy; it opens with the roar-whine of a fire engine’s siren, something that has probably caused at least a few thousand radio-listening commuters to instinctively jerk their cars over to the sides of the road over the decades. There’s nothing remotely mellow about ‘Fire.’ There’s barely any melody, even. Instead, it’s a horny and unrelenting vamp, a funk attack of towering proportions.

… ‘Fire’ hit #1 at the dawn of the disco age, and yet it’s not a disco song at all. You could definitely dance to it, and it probably got club play, but it’s a whole different sort of groove. It’s a grimy, sweaty beast of a song. And in the context of the otherwise-antiseptic early-1975 pop charts, I can only just imagine how exciting it must’ve sounded.”

At the 1:50 mark, the iconic half-step key change hits — not least because because of the tune’s one-chord harmonic vocabulary within each of the two keys!

Grateful Dead | Let Me Sing Your Blues Away

“The self-produced Wake of the Flood … originally came out in October 1973,” (Americana Highways). “… when you compare Wake of the Flood with the group’s most recent previous studio efforts, 1970’s Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty, those earlier LPs found the group forsaking extended psychedelic jams and improvisation in favor of succinct, country-flavored rock statements that relied heavily on vocals and acoustic instruments.

You’d never describe Wake of the Flood that way, which is not to say that it takes off in a wholly new direction. Yes, there are horns and there’s also more jazz influence as well as funk and ragtime, but the album is less of a reinvention than a vinyl presentation of the sort of music the Dead had been performing in concert for years. It also retains some elements of earlier studio albums.”

“Let Me Sing Your Blues Away,” the second track on Wake of the Flood, features an consistent level of intensity throughout, which seems to be one of the band’s trademarks. There are no buildups, no quiet bridges, no intense shout choruses … rather, an eternal “now” for which the band was well known. But a more unusual quality of the track is its frequency of unconventional, generally unprepared key changes. After a start in Bb major, there’s a cavalcade of unceremonious keys of the moment starting at 0:50 leading into a section in A major at 1:15, B major at 1:30, C# major at 1:45, and some frequently shifting key of the moment connective tissue leading to a return to Bb major at 1:56. Finally, here’s a shift to G major at 2:21 and a chromatic lead-in back to Bb major at 2:47.