Originally written by Brian Wilson and Mike Love and appearing on the Beach Boys’ 1963 Surfin’ U.S.A. album, “Farmer’s Daughter” was resurrected by Fleetwood Mac as a concert encore and is an exquisite showcase for their harmonies.
Lindsay Buckingham even duplicates Carl Wilson’s chugging guitar sound. A live version, recorded at Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in front of crew and a few friends during the Tusk tour, was actually released as a single but did not chart.
This version, from the reissued Tusk album’s bonus disc, is a little cleaner-sounding, although the live recording is pretty flawless itself.
The Bills: “Nowhere To Be (And All Day to Get There)” (2005)
The Bills’ 2005 album Let Em Run is one of the most stylistically schizoid albums I’ve ever had the confusion of listening to. It touches equally deftly on folk, jazz, bluegrass, zydeco, ragtime…and sea chantey. The record begins with the type of overture you’d associate with an opera, in which several of the melodies to follow are represented, each in a distinct style. Genres change with dizzying frequency throughout the rest of the album, sometimes mid-song.
The Canadian band who shortened their name from the Hill Billy Band to simply the Bills hasn’t been heard from since this, their third album. But clearly they were a unit whose competence over a diversity of styles was quite impressive. And this particular track is still the only song I know to use the word “insouciance”, for what that’s worth.
Donald Fagen: “Viva Viva Rock ‘n’ Roll” (Live) (2007)
With the talent Donald Fagen takes out on the road for accompaniment, one might be forgiven for wishing they’d, I dunno…tear it up a little more often. But since they’re mainly playing Steely Dan songs, I won’t complain about that. Still I love this little live encore nugget, unheard by many Dan fans.
Southern Culture on the Skids: “Liquored Up and Lacquered Down” (2000)
“This one’s dedicated to big hair…and high balls”, says guitarist and vocalist Rick Miller as he introduces this song on SCOTS’s live album. Although their sound is typically more along the lines of a country/surf guitar/rockabilly blend, “Liquored Up and Lacquered Down” isn’t a bad calling card for their winking, deliberately white-trashy, double-entendre laden, good-time party sound. They’ve carved out a sound and a look of their own: Miller is a walking tribute to bad taste in clothing; bassist Mary Huff, who sports the big hair herself, just might be dressed like a waitress from a roadside greasy spoon if you see them live. And you should. Hank definitely did NOT do it this way.
Rob Dickinson stepped out five years after the demise of his band Catherine Wheel with his first solo album, Fresh Wine For The Horses. The sweeping, passionate plea “Oceans” was a highlight.
Rob is Iron Maiden singer Bruce Dickinson’s cousin.
This song is in several ways atypical of what the Raspberries were all about. Eric Carmen was the band’s primary songwriter, for one thing, and “Should I Wait” was written by bassist David Smalley. So it’s like using one George Harrison song to represent the Beatles. Moreover, the Raspberries usual sound was a Wall of Sugar, if you will: snarling and bombastic like Faces or the Who, but sweet and hyper-melodic like the Beatles and Beach Boys. Something like this:
Sounds like this were the very reason the term “power pop” came into being, and the Raspberries were as definitive of the genre as anybody.
I’ll digress to mention that Carmen’s 1972 classic “Go All the Way” is a brilliant synthesis of some great pop singles from the previous decade. Notice the staccato guitar stabs in the verses, straight out of the Beach Boys’ “Don’t Worry Baby”. Then the chorus comes in with cascading harmonies reminiscent of the Left Banke’s “Walk Away Renee”. And for good measure, a call-and-answer “Come on!” bridge that calls to mind the Beatles’ “Please Please Me”. And yet “Go All the Way”, far from sounding like a mere knockoff, is a great pop song in its own right.
Up-front guitar pyrotechnics and thunderous drums colliding with sweet melodic pop were the band’s staple, and I recommend any of the Greatest Hits collections on the market for a generous selection of that proto-power pop sound. But the almost-country rock “Should I Wait” won’t be on those compilations since it wasn’t a single (which is probably because it wasn’t written by Carmen, but that’s another story–one that ends with the band’s acrimonious breakup).
Anyway it’s probably the best of the great-but-short-lived band’s non-singles and it deserves a listen.
Every Moment Has A Song 