"There's a time in life for Hoagy Carmichael. There's a time in life for Claude Debussy. There's a time in life for Jerry Lee Lewis. There's a time in life for Destiny's Child. All these things have their moment." ~Elvis Costello
Have you ever appreciated the genius in a song that perfectly captures a universal human emotion or experience? Well, that will not be your response to hearing “Andrew in Drag”–not unless you commonly have experiences that are out of the realm of the ordinary. Still, I think the experience related in the song could happen. And it would be really sad, and hilarious, if it did. And so this song is both sad and funny. And a little less than completely PC. You’ve been warned.
Chicago: “Brand New Love Affair, Part I &II” (1975)
When Chicago, and the world, lost Terry Kath in 1978 due to an unintentional self-inflicted gunshot wound, they not only lost a most formidable and innovative lead guitarist (supposedly Hendrix called him the best he’d ever seen) but also the most soulful singer in the band. Without his gutbucket delivery to offset the sweeter vocals of the Robert Lamms and Peter Ceteras of the band, it quickly became a blander affair in his absence, and the downward slide (“If You Leave Me Now”, “Baby, What a Big Surprise”, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry”, “You’re the Inspiration”…) began.
The contrast between Kath and Cetera, though, made for great chemistry in the songs they shared the lead on. “Brand New Love Affair” was one such example, as was 1972’s “Dialogue”, in which Kath’s growl perfectly suits the pessimism in his lines, while Cetera’s sweet, high-register croon matches the sunny optimism of his character in the song:
If further irrefutable proof is needed of what the loss of Kath did to neuter a great band, watch the first four minutes or so of the long version of “Make Me Smile” with him (make sure you catch Kath cutting loose with his solo):
…and at least the first three-and-a half or so of the same song performed by a latter-day incarnation of the band:
It’s the oldest romantic story in the world: Boy meets girl. Girl is a lesbian. Boy pretends to be boyfriend of girl to appease girl’s dad.
The Swedish singer-songwriter displays his proficiency with not only English but with both current and retro pop forms with this witty, melancholy and groovy — in both the late-’60s and current senses of the word — tune. And we believe you, Jens: You’re only pretending to be in love with Nina. For her father’s benefit.
When the Harmonicats’ “Peg o’ My Heart” was released in 1947, the harmonica instrumental would have been just another catchy tune on the radio were it not for the surreal, atmospheric reverberation that drenched it. Producer Bill Putnam’s use of an echo chamber (specifically, a microphone and loudspeaker placed in the studio’s bathroom) was probably the first artistic use of artificial reverb in music, and it lent an eerie dimension to the song. The record hit No. 1 on the charts 65 years ago today and stayed there for most of the summer.
No mere gimmick, Putnam’s innovation begat a new twist in humans’ ongoing effort to tame the forces of echo, a quest that has shaped the architecture of ziggurats, cathedrals, and concert halls. As it happened, the otherworldly reverberations of the lavatory at Putnam’s Universal Recording studio in Chicago fit nicely into this millennium-long tradition.
“My dad was really intrigued by artificial reverb,” says his son, Bill Putnam Jr., who took over his father’s business with his brother, James Putnam. “I would say haunted, but not in a bad way.”
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. That old expression came to mind when I read the headline of a recent press release:
‘Grand Funk Railroad, Boston, Kansas at Aberdeen Proving Ground, August 11’
These three bands have sold a combined total of over 70 million records! Back in the day, each band could have filled a stadium of 50,000 on its own. Today, when I called the box office at the Aberdeen Proving Ground to ask if they’d sold out the 10,000 tickets available for the Aug. 11 show, the answer was, “Heck no. We’ll have tickets the day of the event.” Maybe it’s not exactly the same as playing the state fair or that Spinal Tap moment when they find themselves opening for a puppet show, but it sure is a huge step down. This hit me particularly hard because Grand Funk Railroad was one of my favorites as a teen, and just about the first concert I ever saw.
So try imagining this: It’s 2042. What three bands will be playing the state fair circuit?
Muse?
Jay-Z?
Modest Mouse?
Just imagine your three-band nightmare fantasy and share it with us in the comments.
