5 Songs January 26, 2024

So many songs to hear but I vouch for these five oldies

Graham Parker & the Rumour – Don’t Hold Back, 1980 from The Up Escalator. In 1979, Graham Parker was riding the highest high of his still ongoing 48-year career. Squeezing Out Sparks, frequently cited (by many critics, not just me) as the best album of that year, had led to thrilling concerts – I caught GP & the R opening for Cheap Trick that summer, one of my all-time favorite nights of live music. Also that year, Jimmy Iovine had followed up his breakthrough production of Patti Smith’s Easter with an even greater success, Tom Petty’s Damn the Torpedos. So somebody out there figured putting these two rising stars – Parker & Iovine – together would have to work magic. Instead, it derailed any chance Parker had of being a major star. I still don’t understand why, because The Up Escalator only sounds at all disappointing next to one of the greatest rock’n’roll albums I know, which happened to be the previous record. “Don’t Hold Back” is as chock full of hooks as the average Graham Parker song. First there’s that indelible riff doubled by guitarist Brinsley Schwarz and session piano player Nicky Hopkins (subbing for the suddenly departed Rumour keyboardist Bob Andrews). Then, once you get past the catchy enough verse, there’s the chorus with it’s frequently repeated title line, and then a strong bridge leading to a potent outro which repeats the title several more times. The song is about some mysterious overseas phone call which nearly causes a heart attack from the danger it implies. GP snarls the tautly crammed lyrics with all the spitfire attack he had made his trademark. The band – also featuring Martin Belmont on guitar, and the rhythm section that created the groove of “Watching the Detectives” by Elvis Costello, bassist Andrew Bodnar and future Mekons drummer Steve Goulding – was as potent as ever. I’ll admit somehow Iovine’s production didn’t quite capture the in-your-face power the Rumour had shown on Sparks but it still sounds good enough for rock’n’roll.

John Anderson – “I’m Just An Old Chunk of Coal (But I’m Gonna Be a Diamond Someday)” 1981 from John Anderson 2. In 1980, America became aware of two guys with the same name. One was a Senator from Illinois who ran a third party Presidential campaign; the other was one of the best country singers of his time. This song, a simple paean to the dream of improving one’s inner self, is a perfect example of what made Anderson so much fun to hear. First, there’s the gently swinging honky tonk loving backing band, with fiddles and dobro and piano taking turns commenting on the melody. Second, there’s Anderson’s smooth vocals, a purring croon full of conviction. Third, there’s that simple catchy tune itself, with a title hook that shouldn’t work because it’s so long, but which does because it’s so clunky. I betcha songwriter Billy Joe Shaver, like myself, learned that coal could eventually turn into diamonds from Superman’s ability to compress chunks of coal into perfect jewlery. At any rate, Shaver recorded it first that year, but Anderson took the song to number 4 on the Billboard country chart.

Jerry Butler – “Just a Little Bit” 1963 single available on More of the Best of Jerry Butler. Jerry Butler had been an original member of the Impressions, but by 1963 was three years into his solo career which provided an impressive number of pop and especially r&b hits. His take on the Rosco Gordon classic “Just a Little Bit” doesn’t seem to have been a chart climber, but it’s pretty cool nonetheless. The arrangement here removes all of the rumba party feel of Gordon’s original, and sounds more like a late night, intimate but powerful tête-á-tête. “I don’t want much, I just want a little bit,” he croons with his authoritative commanding voice. I especially love the way he stretches out the word “leave” in the line “Please say you’ll never leave” towards the end. There’s a cool early-60s style sax solo that serves as a bridge and also implies a brief interruption in the make-out session of the song. Not to worry, though, Butler is asking for an “eenie-weenie bit, a teenie-weenie bit of your love” again by the end, and the little laugh he gives there makes me think he knows he’s gonna get it.

Suzzy Roche & Lucy Wainwright Roche – “Ruins” 2020 from I Can Still Hear You. “I asked my mama yesterday / I asked my daddy too / Why’s a human heart so mean to do / The things that we do?” That’s a very good question, and one that resonates deeply in this simple, elegant, and painful song about a boy who stomps on a flower bed on his way to school, and the woman who had planted them. Suzzy Roche was one third of the Roches, one of my all-time favorite singing groups. She was married to Loudon Wainwright III back in the late 70s and early 80s, long enough to have a daughter Lucy who puts her dad’s name in the middle and her mom’s at the end. (Lucy is thus half-sister to both Rufus and Martha Wainwright.) Mother and daughter make a compelling harmony duo that may not be quite as expansive as the trio of mother and her sisters were, but which will more than do. This song was written by Suzzy, and it has a lovely melody that the voices caress beautifully. It’s a devastating lyric, and it’s chorus, “I don’t want to ruin anything” could be the mantra of the human condition, especially in light of the fact that we just can’t seem to help ourselves.

The Drifters – “Hypnotized” 1957 single available on Rockin’ and Driftin’. Usually I know more about the songs I choose for this project, but sometimes I draw something of a blank, even while trying to research on the internet. This song was a b-side of a single during the middle years of the Drifters career, a time when they had fewer hits and less superstar singers. Not that there’s anything wrong with Bobby Hendricks, who handles the lead vocals here, but he’s less well remembered than Clyde McPhatter or Ben E. King, to draw two names from the ever-shifting line-up of Drifters. This record, though obscure, is a fun up-tempo doo wop classic, with Hendricks telling us of the hypnotic effect of his paramour while the remaining Drifters “Bop doo bop” their way behind him. The drums shuffle along at top speed, the guitar plays hot licks all the way up the neck, and eventually there’s a classic little sax solo, most likely by King Curtis though it could be one of his acolytes. It’s all over in two minutes and two seconds, but you’ll be as likely to start it over again as I was.