Chuck's Place: 1955-1974
Spent most of the first afternoon of the New Year wandering through my dad's records (which he unloaded on me over Xmas). I arranged them all chronologically (because, even though I'm not a drunk, I am compulsive) and prepared the first of what I'm sure will be several compilation CDs chronicling my early musical education.
The first 23 track CD I completed will give you a good idea of the kind of music I was exposed to as a child--everything from jazz to girl groups to Nashville country to R&B and pop (lots of pop). This is the music that played in the background in the years before my brother was born, the music that I fell asleep to as my parents listened in the evenings, the music that was as ephemeral as the sounds created by wind chimes on the porch and the twittering parakeet my mom used to keep.
As I played through these records, most of which I hadn't heard for at least a decade, and some I hadn't heard for more than 20 years, I was surprised to find how well I remembered either the melodies or the lyrics to the songs. In some cases, I could sing the entire song after hearing either the opening line or the instrumental intro.
I was also rather pleased to note how well this music sounded on vinyl. The youngest of these records is still more than 30 years old, but my father, if nothing else, took care of his music collection. At worst, the records were dusty, but none were scratched or marred beyond playability. And they sound great--it's true what they say about analog vs. digital. The cleanest records were more dynamic than any CD I've played on my stereo.
Here, then, is the track list for the first of these CDs. The collection extends up into the early 80's (when cassettes became my dad's format of choice), and with my penchant for burning multiple tracks from a single album onto a CD, I could be doing this for quite a while longer. Anyway, here are the tracks:
1. Louis Armstrong & His All-Stars, "Muskrat Ramble" (from a 1955 concert recording)
2. The Angels, "My Boyfriend's Back"
3. The Righteous Brothers, "Just Once in My Life"
4. Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs, "Li'l Red Riding Hood" (one of my childhood favorites)
5. Bobbie Gentry, "Mississippi Delta"
6. Booker T. & the MG's, "Time Is Tight"
7. Louis Armstrong & His All-Stars, "West End Blues"
8. The Angels, "Thank You and Goodnight"
9. The Righteous Brothers, "See That Girl"
10. Carpenters, "We've Only Just Begun"
11. Bobbie Gentry, "I Saw an Angel Die"
12. Booker T. & the MG's, "Run Tank Run"
13. Tony Orlando & Dawn, "Candida" (another childhood favorite)
14. Three Dog Night, "One Man Band"
15. The Who, "Young Man Blues" (live)
16. Carpenters, "(They Long to Be) Close to You"
17. Olivia Newton-John, "Let Me Be There"
18. Charlie Rich, "Behind Closed Doors"
19. Tony Orlando & Dawn, "What Are You Doing Sunday"
20. Three Dog Night, "Can't Get Enough of It"
21. Captain & Tennille,"Love Will Keep Us Together"
22. Carpenters, "Maybe It's You"
23. Olivia Newton-John, "Banks of the Ohio"
That last track by ONJ was quite a surprise--it's a peppy little sing-along, but also a rather morbid little murder ballad. The singer basically asks her lover to walk with her along the banks of the Ohio River, then stabs him in the heart so that he will stay "forever" hers in the waters of the river. I've never heard ONJ sing anything quite so delightfully bloodthirsty before (well, I guess I had heard it before, but as a child I never picked up on the storyline of the song) and in such a charming manner (literally--the song's final chorus features a back-up group singing "la la la"). We'd have to wait till Grease to hear her become as ballsy again.
Another surprise came while I listened to Captain & Tennille--I started crying. It certainly had nothing to do with the content of the song, other than my associations with it. The C&T album features a lyric sheet, and I distinctly remember combing through these records to find the ones with lyrics that I could follow along with and, later, sing. I would do this, most frequently, when I was by myself or when I was pretty sure I wouldn't get caught rifling through my dad's records. I spent hours listening to crap like Captain & Tennille, just because they printed their lyrics on the record sleeve.
But additionally, I suppose that record, which came out in 1974, also signifies for me the last of a more-or-less innocent period in my life. Shortly thereafter, my family descended into a long, dark tunnel from which it has never really managed to crawl back out of. The later records in the collection reflect this period--Alice Cooper going to hell, lots of rowdy country drinking songs, and the mournful melancholia of the Eagles, which my dad would turn up loudly to cover the sounds of his violent attacks on his family from the upstairs neighbors.
So I suppose there is some kind of twisted irony to the sequence of the last 3 tracks on this compilation--"Love Will Keep Us Together" followed by the doubt of "Maybe It's You," and concluding with a very pleasant song about the murder of a lover.
Only one afternoon into this collection, and I've already managed to unearth the roots of both my lifelong obsession with schmaltzy pop music and the grim realization that, no matter what else I do with my life, I will never be able to completely escape the associations this music brings, nor the all-too vivid memories it invokes of a family about to be swallowed by a darkness blacker than any vinyl.
It began only a year after the last song on my compilation was released, a song of murder I know by heart, even without having heard it in over 20 years.
The first 23 track CD I completed will give you a good idea of the kind of music I was exposed to as a child--everything from jazz to girl groups to Nashville country to R&B and pop (lots of pop). This is the music that played in the background in the years before my brother was born, the music that I fell asleep to as my parents listened in the evenings, the music that was as ephemeral as the sounds created by wind chimes on the porch and the twittering parakeet my mom used to keep.
As I played through these records, most of which I hadn't heard for at least a decade, and some I hadn't heard for more than 20 years, I was surprised to find how well I remembered either the melodies or the lyrics to the songs. In some cases, I could sing the entire song after hearing either the opening line or the instrumental intro.
I was also rather pleased to note how well this music sounded on vinyl. The youngest of these records is still more than 30 years old, but my father, if nothing else, took care of his music collection. At worst, the records were dusty, but none were scratched or marred beyond playability. And they sound great--it's true what they say about analog vs. digital. The cleanest records were more dynamic than any CD I've played on my stereo.
Here, then, is the track list for the first of these CDs. The collection extends up into the early 80's (when cassettes became my dad's format of choice), and with my penchant for burning multiple tracks from a single album onto a CD, I could be doing this for quite a while longer. Anyway, here are the tracks:
1. Louis Armstrong & His All-Stars, "Muskrat Ramble" (from a 1955 concert recording)
2. The Angels, "My Boyfriend's Back"
3. The Righteous Brothers, "Just Once in My Life"
4. Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs, "Li'l Red Riding Hood" (one of my childhood favorites)
5. Bobbie Gentry, "Mississippi Delta"
6. Booker T. & the MG's, "Time Is Tight"
7. Louis Armstrong & His All-Stars, "West End Blues"
8. The Angels, "Thank You and Goodnight"
9. The Righteous Brothers, "See That Girl"
10. Carpenters, "We've Only Just Begun"
11. Bobbie Gentry, "I Saw an Angel Die"
12. Booker T. & the MG's, "Run Tank Run"
13. Tony Orlando & Dawn, "Candida" (another childhood favorite)
14. Three Dog Night, "One Man Band"
15. The Who, "Young Man Blues" (live)
16. Carpenters, "(They Long to Be) Close to You"
17. Olivia Newton-John, "Let Me Be There"
18. Charlie Rich, "Behind Closed Doors"
19. Tony Orlando & Dawn, "What Are You Doing Sunday"
20. Three Dog Night, "Can't Get Enough of It"
21. Captain & Tennille,"Love Will Keep Us Together"
22. Carpenters, "Maybe It's You"
23. Olivia Newton-John, "Banks of the Ohio"
That last track by ONJ was quite a surprise--it's a peppy little sing-along, but also a rather morbid little murder ballad. The singer basically asks her lover to walk with her along the banks of the Ohio River, then stabs him in the heart so that he will stay "forever" hers in the waters of the river. I've never heard ONJ sing anything quite so delightfully bloodthirsty before (well, I guess I had heard it before, but as a child I never picked up on the storyline of the song) and in such a charming manner (literally--the song's final chorus features a back-up group singing "la la la"). We'd have to wait till Grease to hear her become as ballsy again.
Another surprise came while I listened to Captain & Tennille--I started crying. It certainly had nothing to do with the content of the song, other than my associations with it. The C&T album features a lyric sheet, and I distinctly remember combing through these records to find the ones with lyrics that I could follow along with and, later, sing. I would do this, most frequently, when I was by myself or when I was pretty sure I wouldn't get caught rifling through my dad's records. I spent hours listening to crap like Captain & Tennille, just because they printed their lyrics on the record sleeve.
But additionally, I suppose that record, which came out in 1974, also signifies for me the last of a more-or-less innocent period in my life. Shortly thereafter, my family descended into a long, dark tunnel from which it has never really managed to crawl back out of. The later records in the collection reflect this period--Alice Cooper going to hell, lots of rowdy country drinking songs, and the mournful melancholia of the Eagles, which my dad would turn up loudly to cover the sounds of his violent attacks on his family from the upstairs neighbors.
So I suppose there is some kind of twisted irony to the sequence of the last 3 tracks on this compilation--"Love Will Keep Us Together" followed by the doubt of "Maybe It's You," and concluding with a very pleasant song about the murder of a lover.
Only one afternoon into this collection, and I've already managed to unearth the roots of both my lifelong obsession with schmaltzy pop music and the grim realization that, no matter what else I do with my life, I will never be able to completely escape the associations this music brings, nor the all-too vivid memories it invokes of a family about to be swallowed by a darkness blacker than any vinyl.
It began only a year after the last song on my compilation was released, a song of murder I know by heart, even without having heard it in over 20 years.
posted by Chazzbot at 10:06 PM
3 Comments:
Great post, Chaz.
I must say that anytime I go home, I walk upstairs, and spend a day in the storage room where all my own father's vinyl is now deep-stored. But I hadn't until reading this post considered what my childhood compilation album would include, but I have an idea. Although not as poppish, the list is telling, I think:
1.) Fleetwood Mac: Rhiannon
2.) Eric Claption: Cocaine
3.) Steve Miller: Fly Like an Eagle
4.) The Eagles: Take it Easy
5.) The Doobie Brothers: China Grove
6.) Steppenwolf: Magic Carpet Ride
7.) Led Zeppelin: Ramble On
8.) Boston: More Than a Feeling
9.) Jethro-Tull: Aqua-Lung
10.)The Who: Baba OReilly
11.) The Beatles: (Any song, really, but mostly "Here Comes the Sun").
12.) Jimi Hendrix's version of All Along the Watchtower.
13.) Alice Cooper: "School's Out."
14.) Buffalo Springfield: "For What it's Worth."
15.) Joe Walsh: Funk 49
16.) Steely Dan: Reeling in the Years
17.) John Lennon: Imagine
18.) Commadores: Brick House
19.) CCR: Who'll Stop the Rain?
20.) Jimi Hendrix: Crosstown Traffic
21.) The Doors: Hello, I Love You
22.) The Eagles: Peaceful Easy Feeling
23.) Eric Clapton: Lay Down Sally
12.)
Dude, I could make this compilation from all the CDs I've picked up over the years to replace my dad's records!
What I'd really like to be able to compile, though, are my dad's old reel-to-reel mixes. Those things played for 4 hours at a time, and every time my dad would add some new songs to a reel, he would play the whole thing over from the beginning. I must have heard the songs on those tapes more often than classic rock radio plays "Start Me Up" in a given week. If he hasn't thrown it out yet, somewhere there's a binder full of the typed playlists for those reel-to-reel tapes. I need to get that binder and recreate those mixes, man.
Reel to reel? Ah, shit man. That's like buried treasure! That is fantastic. I seem to recall my uncle's reel to reel system he bootlegged from 'Nam. But I was a little kid then, and the smoke in the living room was stenchy green. And I felt happy on the carpet eating cookies. So who knows? Could have been an 8-Track, or movie projector, or god knows what.
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