SHG: The Lovin' Spoonful: "Daydream"

The Lovin’ Spoonful: “Daydream”
Entered the chart on: 3/12/66
Peaked on: 4/9/66
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “(You’re My) Soul & Inspiration” by the Righteous Brothers

The Lovin’ Spoonful get my vote as one of the more underrated 60s “classic rock” acts. Their rootsy sound was sort of the lost, missing link between the Young Rascals and Creedence Clearwater Revival. And I rather prefer them to either of the aforementioned (though I like the Rascals fine, and rather regret that I won’t be reviewing any of their tunes). Unfortunately, in these “90% of acts from the past are reduced to one-hit wonder status” days of oldies radio programming, “Summer in the City” is the only tune of theirs that seems to get any airplay these days.

Not that it’s a bad song, but they have a lot more to recommend than just that. I imagine it gets a lot of love because it’s their “edgiest” song. In general, they were a bit laid-back and good-natured, which I guess doesn’t play as well in a world gone hard and cynical. I, for one, have a soft spot for this element of their sound, fondly remembering my mom’s copy of “Nashville Cats*.”

So...clearly these guys need a second appraisal. Let’s examine the first (of two) of the songs that brought them here to Second Hand Goods:



Wow, talk about stripped-down! All you hear at first accompanying John Sebastian’s voice is a banjo-sounding guitar. Eventually we get a full band of sorts, with some light, very legato guitar injections, saloon piano and bass. And is it my imagination, or are there no drums on this track? All I’m hearing are spoons! So that’s where Split Enz got it from!

Despite the country-fied sound, lyrically this comes across as very suburban. A song about the simple domestic pleasures of a day off from work, with his best lady. “Bundle of joy” suggests that she’s just given birth, too...or maybe that’s his pet name for her. In any case, in spite of the late winter release date, this conjures up images of lazy summer afternoons, sipping a cold drink while swinging in a hammock with one of your feet dangling over the side.

Really not much more to say about this. A modest pleasure, but one I sure wouldn’t want to be without.

Rating: 5

*on the Kama Sutra label, fact fans. I admired the label design, and because my age was still in single digits, the “suggestive” nature of the label’s name flew right over my innocent head. Incidentally, one of the first records I ever owned, which I’ll be reviewing some time in the future, was also released on Kama Sutra. I’ll let you ponder what that might be.

SHG: Gary Lewis & the Playboys: "Save Your Heart for Me"

Gary Lewis & the Playboys: “Save Your Heart for Me”
Entered the chart on: 7/17/65
Peaked on: 8/21/65
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “I Got You Babe” by Sonny & Cher

One of those wags over at RateYourMusic said of this song:

Gary Lewis & the Playboys' string of hits were some of the dullest and weakest the 60's produced. There's a reason you don't hear them on Oldies radio. Take this one for example. Somehow this lame little ditty got all the way up to #2. Anyone remember it?

(sound of crickets chirping)

I didn't think so.

Harsh? Perhaps. But he has a point. I certainly am conjuring up no memories of this tune. I’m sure it must have been the likes of Dick Bartley or Casey Kasem that are responsible yet again for me hearing it at all. Because it does have a check-mark next to it in the Whitburn book. But I’m not linking the title with any melody.

That’s the thing about Gary Lewis & the Playboys. They charted twelve hits in the top 40, but how many of them do you actually remember? Personally, I remember “This Diamond Ring,” “Count Me In” and “Everybody Loves a Clown.” Beyond that, I’m drawing a blank. You can blame payola, or Lewis’ famous father giving his career a boost if you wish, but the truth of the matter is, no matter the reason for their popularity back in the day, their output just hasn’t really stood the test of time.

Lewis himself credits this song’s brevity (one minute and fifty six seconds) to its great success (“DJs loved it,” he claimed). Oh and...sigh, it’s a cover. Brian Hyland—yes, the “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini” guy—got to this first. So I need to listen to both versions for context.



All right, listening to two versions of this song is one too many. Possibly two too many. Especially considering the Lewis version pretty much clones the arrangement of Hyland’s, even throwing in the whistling intro. Anyway, we’ve heard what Lewis sounds like paired up with a good song with his first two hits, and the two don’t completely cancel each other out. Here we get to hear him paired up with a substandard song, and the results are absolutely dreary.

Seriously, I’m trying to think of a reason this charted so high and I’m drawing a blank. I could actually hear why this groups first two hits were such smashes; they were good songs and the production made them really sparkle. This one just lies there like a dead fish. The best I can say about this is a) it’s well-produced and b) it’s mercifully short.

Especially letter “b” above. Thank the Stars for small mercies.

Rating: 1

SHG: Chubby Checker: "Limbo Rock"

Chubby Checker: “Limbo Rock”
Entered the chart on: 9/29/62
Peaked on: 12/22/62
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Telstar” by the Tornadoes

*sigh*

I was going to try a stalling tactic for this review, but there’s no way around it. Let’s just jump in with both feet and get it over with.

Mind you, Chubby Checker, despite his derivative name (and the fact that he’s of average girth), is not a man without talent. He had a strong voice and an uncanny talent for mimicry; listen to his now-forgotten debut hit, “The Class.” Cameo-Parkway used that talent for...um...ripping off Hank Ballard (the original singer of “The Twist,” whose rendition Mr. Checker’s twice #1 version blatantly carbon-copies). Checker blames Cameo-Parkway for ruining his career, making him a laughingstock. I’ll side with the man here, as I’ve heard some of his post C-P singles where it’s revealed, in his heart of hearts, he really wanted to be...Jimi Hendrix? And damn if he didn’t almost pull it off!

In other words, they took a man with scads of potential, and squandered his talents on faddish dance-craze records. I feel no regret for what I’m about to do.



I’ll be perfectly honest: this doesn’t even feel like a “real” song. This is what I call “functional” music. It’s like the Hokey Pokey, or the Chicken Dance. Something a wedding DJ puts on to get kids and grandparents alike out on the dance floor. Chubby tries to enliven this with the laughter, the spoken word breaks (“How low can you go?” Oh, the irony!), but I’m having none of it. The handclaps almost got me into it. Almost. But not quite.

The faux-calypso style, apparently inspired by half an hour of listening to a Harry Belafonte record, feels phoned in. It’s just so repetitive! And the unison sax/whistle repeat of that melody one more time certainly isn’t helping.

I can’t imagine anyone listening to this one on purpose. Obnoxious.

Rating: 1

SHG: Gene Pitney: "Only Love Can Break a Heart"

Gene Pitney: “Only Love Can Break a Heart”
Entered the chart on: 9/29/62
Peaked on: 11/3/62
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “He’s a Rebel” by the Crystals

This is why I was excited for 1962: a hat-trick of absolutely spectacular male soloists all with consecutive songs peaking at #2 in the autumn. Here we have Gene Pitney, and if Roy Orbison had any kind of competition for most potent male balladeer of the early 60s, it had to have been from Gene. Clearly it was a mutual admiration society, since Roy sang at least one song Gene wrote: “Today’s Teardrops.” In fact, before he made it as a soloist, Gene made his bread and butter as a songwriter, having written hits for a couple of other Second Hand Goods’ alumni: “Hello Mary Lou” for Ricky Nelson and “Rubber Ball” for Bobby Vee. Oh, and “He’s a Rebel” for the Crystals! Is this the first instance on SHG where the top 2 are by different artists, yet written by the same person?

Not only was he a versatile vocalist and superior songwriter, but he was multi-talented as an instrumentalist as well, playing and singing everything on his debut hit “(I Wanna) Love My Life Away.” But it’s his expressive tenor voice that he’s best remembered for. He could sometimes border on campy melodrama (see his rendition of the title song from Town Without Pity, one of his most enduring hits) but he was always a captivating listen. He was Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s preferred male interpreter of their material. This song is one of theirs. This has a lot of potential to live up to.



Man, this song doesn’t mess around! A swath of strings and we’re right into the refrain. I imagine Bacharach wanted to hammer in the most memorable and catchy bit of this because, like a lot of his tunes, it’s really oddly constructed. The verses are of differing lengths with melodies and rhythms that jump all over the place. It’s precisely that weirdness that makes Bacharach’s songs memorable. Part of Pitney’s appeal to him is that he—like their preferred female soloist, Dionne Warwick—is able to navigate the unexpected twists and turns of his songs and make it sound natural.

Whoever’s playing the guitar on this deserves an award for making it sound very smooth. None of the changes seem jarring or out-of-place. There’s also a nice whistling hook near the start that’s repeated at the end. Pitney doesn’t go for melodrama here, if anything, he’s under-selling the lyric. But God, that voice is to die for.

Not your usual romantic ballad, by any stretch of the imagination. You could write a term paper on this.

Rating: 5

SHG: Jimmy Jones: "Handy Man"

Jimmy Jones: “Handy Man”
Entered the chart on: 1/18/1960
Peaked on: 2/29/1960
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Theme From A Summer Place” by Percy Faith

And so, we make a clean break from the 50s. The first song to peak at #2 also entered the chart that year (It was not, however, the first #2 hit to enter the chart in 1960. For that, wait for the next entry).

Jimmy Jones, who might just have the most generic name in pop music history, is one of those rare beasts: the two-hit wonder. This song and its #3 follow-up “Good Timin’” (You know, “TOCK-a TOCK-a TOCK-a TOCK-a!”?) comprise the entirety of his pop chart legacy. And he shares something in common with the Impalas, as he was likewise on the Cub label. Let’s check out Cub’s other #2 hit artist:



Well, there’s a falsetto that could peel paint off the walls! And how did I never notice the background whistling before? Very unusual, certainly not something you hear often. Actually, back on the subject of his voice, he’s actually really in control of that falsetto. It’s not shrill, the register change doesn’t seem jarring, it’s all really smooth. I’m actually impressed! And there’s a nice guitar solo in the middle eight to boot.

After years of being subjected to James Taylor’s bland, lobotomized version it’s a bit of a revelation just how superior the original is. There’s quite a lot of spark and excitement to this. I really like it!

Rating: 4

SHG: Johnnie Ray: "Just Walking in the Rain"

Johnnie Ray: “Just Walking in the Rain”
Entered the chart on: 9/8/1956
Peaked on: 10/13/1956
Weeks at #2: 1 week
Songs at #1: “Don’t Be Cruel” b/w “Hound Dog” by Elvis Presley

This is an interesting top 2, artist-wise, for reasons I’ll explain later.

Poor old Johnnie Ray. A big, beloved singing star in the 50s, nowadays reduced to a passing mention in a one-hit wonder by a bunch of English boys play-acting at being Irish folkies until they got bored and moved onto their next image change. Johnnie deserves better, as he’s arguably the most fascinating male solo singer of the 1950s.

Johnnie was undeniably an oddity in 50s pop music with his rich, impassioned vocal delivery. His odd, androgynous voice confused listeners at first; many when they first heard him on the radio pictured a large, black woman, not a slender, white man. Some have claimed him to be a big influence on rock & roll, though to these ears the real inheritors of his pioneering style were the dramatic male balladeers of the 60s, singers like Roy Orbison and Gene Pitney.

It’s helpful to listen to both sides of his breakthrough single. The A-side, “Cry,” is quintessential Johnnie, and boils down his appeal nicely in three minutes. Interesting perhaps more historically than musically is the self-penned B-side, “The Little White Cloud That Cried.” This might be one of the most confessional songs of its era, its lyrics overflowing with subtext.

You see, Johnnie was gay. As in “couldn’t hide it if he tried” gay.

Columbia tried to keep him in the closet, but Johnnie’s effeminate mannerisms couldn’t be covered up. Frank Sinatra carried on a very public (and obviously more than a bit homophobic) hate campaign against Johnnie. But he had many friends as well as enemies, Frankie Laine and SHG alumnus Doris Day were Johnnie boosters, and fellow SHG alumni the Four Lads backed Johnnie on his early singles. He helped give (the also underrated and sadly forgotten) Timi Yuro* her first break. Elvis Presley counted Johnnie as an early influence, as did later stars such as David Bowie. And that’s not even counting the legions of (mostly female) fans he commanded at the time.

Got all that? Good. Because I really dislike this song.



Ugh! Where to begin? Johnnie is just the wrong singer for a song like this. The lyrics are the usual heartbreak theme that Johnnie has done a good job of milking for years. But Ray Conniff does an awful job of trying to turn this into a Pat Boone song, with drippy backing vocals, an annoying whistling hook and inappropriate ukulele accompaniment. It’s like he was trying to sabotage the song, or at least try to make him more acceptable for the squeaky-clean, increasingly conservative tastes of grown-up audiences as the 50s progressed. Johnnie tries, but he can’t save what’s essentially a pretty poor song.

I’d say “go ahead and listen to ‘Cry’ instead,” which would be good sooth, but pretty much any of Johnnie’s songs would be preferable. The follow-up hit, “You Don’t Owe Me a Thing,” is infinitely better as is its B-side, the gorgeous “Look Homeward, Angel.” This isn’t the first time a singer I like has released a song I hate (I’ve mentioned Kay Starr’s “Rock and Roll Waltz” in passing; don’t get me started, it’ll turn into a rant) and it won’t be the last (ask my opinion on Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” some time).

Rating: 2

*their duet on a rendition of Frankie Laine’s “I Believe” must be heard to be believed; both singers are in fine form.