Musical Snobbery

There's lots of music I don't like -- there's more I do like. It's not that I'm superior to Steven Tyler or Crosby, Stills or Nash. Their music simply doesn't resound brightly with me. Musical taste is impossible to define. 

Being a thirteen-year-old who liked country music taught me about snobbery. "Country music? Like Johnny Cash?" kids would snicker. Those same kids are now sixty-five years old and cherishing their newly minted thirty-dollar vinyl copy of "Live At San Quentin".(I never was a Cash fan, by the way.) I didn't dare point out that Mama Tried was a far superior track to Snoopy Versus The Red Baron. Mostly no one outside my family and my best friend even knew that I listened to country.

My theory is those who sniff at any kind of music truly don't like music; they're just haughty prigs. I had my phases, too, but my prejudices were generally aimed at artists who tried to change country into something it wasn't. For a time I hated John Denver and Kenny Rogers. In the late sixties I detested Glen Campbell. Happily, I now like both Denver and Rogers; and I cherish Glen.

My favorite (really, my only) country music site sometimes reflexively denigrates artists of the past, while enshrining obscure musicians few have even heard of.There is a certain songwriter who recently passed away who is being (implausibly) touted on the site as a candidate for the Country Music Hall of Fame. While I knew the man's name, I had to Google his songs, and I am here to report that I've never heard of any of them. And I've been enveloped in music for a good sixty years.But he's cool.

This blog is non-judgmental. Music is music, and if you like a track, cool. Joy is what music is supposed to bring to our lives. It should be apolitical; it can be nonsensical.Sometimes it just has a good beat and you find yourself dancing in your chair when you hear it.

Music can be dissected, but boy, that takes the fun out of it. Listening to SiriusXM on my weekend nights, I hear recordings I used to dismiss, but suddenly I'm hearing them with fresh ears. And I don't solely listen to country music. It depends upon my mood. My bookmarked channels range from the 50's to the 80's to Yacht Rock, with a smattering of seventies and eighties country and, of course, Willie's Roadhouse. (Why is there no nineties country channel, Sirius? Hit me up -- I can help you out.)

People can revel in their hipness. I'm just going to derive joy in whatever music hits me.

In the mid-seventies, I was caught in a chasm between country and rock, and I mostly leaned toward rock. AM radio was still the king of the car, and certain tracks were predominant. I remember my brother driving me somewhere and hearing "Heard It In A Love Song' and thinking for the longest time that the title was "Pretty Little Love Song". Not that I necessarily liked the song, but it was played incessantly. That reminded me of this one, that I summarily dismissed, but I really kinda like it now:



Enjoy your weekend. Avoid people. Snack a lot and good luck finding something decent to watch on Netflix. Better yet, crank up some tunes. I won't tell anyone.

1975 And Me And Country

1975 was a bridge year for me. I'd experienced life in the real working world and found I didn't care for it. I was playing at being married but didn't completely grasp the concept. Shoot, I was twenty. Nobody should ever -- ever -- get married at age nineteen. In the seventies, though, it was expected. To be honest, I wasn't even quite nineteen when I got married. I became pregnant in early 1976, so nineteen seventy-five was the last time I lived life in a semi-independent state. I'd gone back to working for Mom and Dad, not so much because I'd failed in the outside world, but because I was more comfortable working alone -- without the drama. Yes, I was cleaning motel rooms, but I had my portable radio that I carried with me from unit to unit, and that was all I needed. Alice had moved on. She worked for the Bank of North Dakota, and frankly, things were never the same with her once I changed my life status by getting hitched. In my defense, at least I found a husband who wasn't two decades older than me, and my marriage lasted far longer than her ill-fated coupling.

Musically, I was alone. It's funny how one gloms onto music based on what others like or buy. Nineteen seventy-five was the first time since 1964 I actually had to rely on myself to choose what music to like or not like.

Not that the music was necessarily good, but one plucks the best from the paltry offerings bestowed upon helpless listeners by the local DJ. It's a misnomer that pop culture wasn't as pivotal in the seventies as it is now. In fact, it was probably more crucial, because there was so much less access to it. One would stay up way past one's bedtime (if they had to get up at six a.m. to get to work) just to see a particular artist on The Tonight Show, because this might be our one and only chance. Record it? On what -- my reel-to-reel? We endured a lot of sickly-sweet variety shows, sat through Gallagher's "comedy" act, simply to see ABBA lip-sync one song. I suffered through Hee Haw for the musical vignettes. Choice? There was no "choice", unless one "chose" to get up off the sofa and flip the dial on the TV to CBS or ABC.

Radio was the same. We had a country station. ONE country station. You took what you got, heard the same pre-recorded local news stories every hour on the hour. Found out that it was "partly cloudy" without even venturing outside whichever room we were currently sanitizing the toilet of, with our scrub brush and a can of Comet.

It's interesting to learn which singles hit the top of the charts in '75 -- and which ones didn't. Funny, the ones I remember best are the ones that didn't. The ones that did, I don't care if I ever hear, ever again.

Like this one:

I remember that Mom and Dad were enamored with this song and I don't know why. Three-chord songs can be great -- shoot, Merle Haggard even recorded a two-chord song that was extraordinary. But a three-chord song needs a bit of oomph -- something to break up the monotony. Freddy Fender's single didn't have that, unless one counts the tink-tinkling of a tiny sad guitar.

This next song would be good if it hadn't been sung by Conway Twitty. Readers of this blog know that I just never got on board with Conway. I can't put my finger on why exactly. People are people; some like chocolate; some detest it. Again, Mom (especially) loved Conway Twitty. Ish. But that was Mom.

I never gave the song a second thought until I watched George Strait perform it in concert. Then I thought, wow, this is a good song! (It's all about the singer, folks.)

Dolly Parton was recording odd things that had queer melodies. I guess it was a phase. "Jolene" was bad enough, but "Bargain Store" was worse. I won't subject you to any of these, but since she charted at number one with the thrift shop ditty, I felt an obligation to mention it. I essentially gave up on Dolly once she parted ways with Porter.

Just like now, even at age twenty I gravitated toward "country" songs. You know, there's country and then there's "country". There's a difference. True lovers of country music know.

I loved Gary Stewart the first time I heard him (and saw him). I was always drawn to artists who were a bit different; intriguing. Those who I wondered, "what's up with this guy?" Gary Stewart didn't have a classic country voice. It was a bit high for the rugged country stalwarts of the time. A tenor, I guess. Of course, I love Faron Young, who was also a tenor, so perhaps my ear is attuned that way. I also appreciated that he played piano. Gary had a sad life, and it's kind of a punch in the gut to know how it all ended. I saw Gary Stewart in concert once, from my perch in the nosebleed seats of the Civic Center. I'm really glad I did.

I don't know why he's not playing piano here, the way I remember him, but here is "She's Acting Single":

I'm not going to wait until the end of this post to feature the song that defines nineteen seventy-five for me. Writers (good writers) would say, save the best for last, but the song has been on my mind. There was this new guy, someone whose name I'd never before heard, that apparently my local DJ really liked, because he played this single a lot. No, it wasn't classic country. Yes, it was good -- captivating. I remember wheeling my maid's cart to the next room down the row and hearing the intro to this song squawk out of my radio; then hurrying into the room with my portable and flipping up the volume:

To me, Gene Watson is like Mark Chesnutt -- sorely underestimated. Except to those of us who know, really know country. If you want your guts ripped out, listen to "Farewell Party". I can't believe that "Love In The Hot Afternoon" only reached number three on the charts. I could have sworn, and that long-ago DJ could attest, that it was a number one -- with a four-decade bullet.

In 1975 I detested John Denver. John Denver was everything that country music wasn't. And to top it off, the stupid CMA rewarded him with the coveted Entertainer of the Year statuette. For what? Yelling, "Far out!"? I mean, come on. I don't know what exactly John Denver was -- my husband's friend could perhaps illuminate, because he loves the guy. My friend Alice also told me, in our sole telephone conversation in '75, about how she was "into" John Denver, and my brain registered, "okay?"

My hatred has since softened, as all hatred naturally does as the years tick by. Guys (and gals) I once detested, I've learned, actually have something to offer. One needs to knock that chip off their shoulder and truly listen. And I will admit (now) that this song had something:

Okay, hello? I just realized that Roger Miller is playing fiddle here, and Glen Campbell is strumming the banjo. What was this? Some kind of country super band?

Another artist I think I saw once live really dominated the early nineteen seventies. I'd first heard Ronnie Milsap in 1974, with his Cap'n Crunch song, and he subsequently had hit after hit after hit. 

This is one of his best:

The first time I remember hearing BJ Thomas was around 1968, with "Eyes Of A New York Woman". His was a voice I tucked inside my pocket and pulled out when I wanted to hear a good, country-pop, but mostly (come on) country singer. 

This song was a number one in 1975, and you know it's catchy. Give it up! I even bought a Chipmunks album for my toddler son sometime around 1980 that featured this song. And divining music critic that he was at age two, he gave it two chubby thumbs up:

So, you can have your Outlaws and In-Laws and Jessie's. Oh, and don't forget your Tompall's. 

That's not what 1975 was for me. And since I was there, I have a say in the matter.

Oh, that picture at the top? Yea, I found this girl by accident. Maybe a snippet of a song played on my local station, and maybe I thought, hmmm, she sounds good! This gal was an album act. One could not experience Emmylou Harris without listening to a full album. "Elite Hotel" was the first of many Emmylou albums I would buy. 

The thing about Emmylou is, she didn't forget. She brought back the old, reveled in the new, but cherished what came before. I like that. Everything isn't new. Sometimes it's old and the old is a treasure. Maybe you just forgot to listen the first time.

They Did Have Music In 1975

(Irony)

I was confused in many ways in 1975. I'd forgotten that until I took a glance at the top hits of the year, and then it all came back.

I was twenty years old, newly married; torn between my new home and my old, dysfunctional life. Funny thing about dysfunction -- you think you yearn to get away from it, but it pulls you back because that's your "normal". The thing regular people don't understand about kids of alcoholics is, you glom onto the familiar, as awful as it is, for dear life; because that's what you know. It's safe -- in a psychotic way.

I kept coming back. I'd tried the real world and didn't like it much. I'd had a regular job for a year; a job that pulled me deep into new dysfunction. I didn't know if it followed me like a heavy cloud or if the whole world was crazy. (In hindsight, I realize that, yes, the whole world is crazy; but I was young and naive.) Nevertheless, I fled -- back to the waiting arms of my parents who didn't exactly welcome me home, but who needed an able-bodied motel maid who could pick up the task with no training.

I wasn't ready to live my own life. I was scared of the world. I no longer had a best friend who'd slay the dragons for me. My marriage was one of convenience; a couple of kids who thought they could do no better. I had no connection to my husband. We struggled to tolerate one another. Mom and Dad were nuts, but they were at least nuts that I knew intimately.

Musically, life revolved around songs that other people liked. It wasn't that I didn't have definite tastes of my own, but I sublimated those, because I was a scared coward and afraid of being scorned if I expressed an opinion.

Mom and Dad had a long walnut console stereo in the corner of the living room. Dad was enthralled, for a while, with a guy who made a record imitating Richard Nixon -- David Frye, I think his name was. Dad thought Frye was hilarious. I found it tedious after the hundredth listen. 

The stereo also had a slot where one could shove eight-track tapes in. Eight-tracks were one of those failed musical experiments. Eight-tracks came on the scene just prior to cassette tapes. They were portable, if one had an automobile that accommodated them. The big drawback of eight-tracks was that the tape stopped smack-dab in the middle of a song and one had to flip the tape over and re-shove it into the slot to hear the rest of the song. That sort of ruined the whole musical experience. Dad had Ray Stevens and a couple of other artists I no longer remember. In total, he owned three eight-track tapes, so I heard Ray Stevens over and over and over.

In an effort to imitate a normal life, Mom purchased LP's that she played on the console. In my opinion then, Mom didn't actually like music -- she was a pretender. Today I have decided to give Mom a break. Who actually doesn't like music? Everybody likes music in some form. She did, though, seem a slave to the charts; as if she had no musical opinions of her own and had to rely on the words of the local DJ to tell her what was good. In reality, she was in love with Ray Price, who she considered a "hunk". I, on the other hand, didn't judge music by how the artist looked. Shoot, I thought Eddie Rabbitt was a country god, and he was ugly as sin.

My mom and dad played singles like this on their ugly coffin-like stereo console:

Mom was always buying records by artists like Billy "Crash" Craddock and Conway Twitty and Mac Davis. Usually they weren't even number one songs. I have somehow come into possession of all Mom's singles and I recognize only a paltry few. I think maybe she was simply a '45 collector.

Dad loved this next song. One of his idiosyncrasies was that he loved Latin music; all the better if the lyrics were in Spanish. Dad knew no Spanish, but I guess it just sounded nice to him.  

Thanks to one of Dad's three eight-track tapes, I love this next track still today:

After my work day was done, or after one of our interminable family gatherings, I went home and played the singles I liked -- on my own crappy (JC Penney) stereo -- which was, of course, better because it had detachable speakers and it didn't look like someone had just been sprinkled with holy water inside it.

Best song, bar none, of 1975:

Weirdly, Tanya Tucker has very few live performance videos on YouTube. Who does she think she is -- Prince? Nevertheless, in '75, Tanya was still a hot artist. I like this one (with guest vocals by Glen):

There was this new girl who appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She was doing old songs (old songs -- even ones I didn't know). I bought her first album because I liked her sound; I knew nothing about her. Here is a sample (with guest appearance on mandolin by a very young Vince Gill):

Merle was still going strong. Unfortunately there are no live videos of this song, just like all of Merle's seventies hits. I don't know where he went, but he wasn't appearing on TV anymore. 

I won't feature songs by Ronnie Milsap and Gary Stewart, because I've recently featured them in other posts, but suffice it to say, the three big artists for me in 1975 were Gene, Ronnie, and Gary.

And, of course, Glen Campbell had the number one hit of the year, but if you want more of Glen, please see Still On The Line. 

Now, the elephant in the room:

Like many (most) country fans in 1975, I resented interlopers swooping in and collecting country awards. They were trying to change country. I didn't want country changed. I liked it just fine, thank you. It started in 1974 with a girl who had three names -- and she wasn't even American! Sure, "If You Love Me, Let Me Know" was catchy. She didn't, however, have a tear in her voice; and where was the twang? Yea, she would later go on to star in one of the guiltiest of movie pleasures of all time, but I didn't know that! I wasn't telepathic! And she won the 1974 CMA female vocalist of the year award! Over Loretta Lynn and Tanya!

Then it got only worse. In 1975, previous Entertainer of the Year Charlie Rich fetched a lighter out of his pocket and set fire to the card that announced the new award winner. (I just gotta say, that was one of the very best entertainment spectacles of all time. Kudos, Charlie!) 

I had an intense, fiery hatred for the new guy. I didn't know what he was supposed to be -- was he country or folk or some weird hybrid? He seemed to me like a pretender -- somebody who was trolling for award trophies. The very last time I talked to Alice on the phone, she informed me that she was really "into" this new guy, and I thought scornfully, well, she's gone over to the other side. How ironic. The person who'd originally tugged me into the bright light that was country had now become a turncoat. Thanks, and, oh -- enjoy your Roberta Flack records.

I can't say that I ever became a huge John Denver fan, but I grew to appreciate him. "Take Me Home, Country Roads" is a sublime song (although not written by John). This, however, made JD soar to the heights of country music stardom:

This post could have ended with John Denver, but oh no....

Much like eight-track tapes, 1975 was the year of completely unnecessary inventions. Remember those old K-Tel commercials for things nobody knew they wanted, and actually didn't want? The pocket fisherman was probably my favorite. Because one never knows when they'll be strolling down a sunny path on their break from the business meeting and thinks, damn! If only I had a fishing rod, I could reel in some of those tasty trout! 

And don't forget Mr. Microphone!

Well, CB radios were just as useless! From what I can gather, long-haul truckers used CB radios to tell other truckers where the "smokies" were hiding out. Not really germane for someone like me, who traversed The Strip about seven miles from home to work. And not exactly relevant for anyone. Regardless, CB's became the latest fad. They were like Rubik's cubes -- completely pointless and needlessly aggravating. The mid-seventies were a time of bumpkins who would fall for anything. Seriously. We loved lime green and orange. And afghans, preferably in orange and lime green hues. And shiny, slippery polyester. Honestly, the seventies, in my mind, are a low-hanging, foreboding cloud. They're best forgotten, as if they'd never happened.

Without further comment, here is "Convoy":

Can I be blamed for being confused in '75? It was a confusing, confounding time. I wasn't quite an adult, although I pretended to be -- yearned to be. Music was a bridge, albeit tottering, from my old life to my new. 

And it was about to get worse....

The CMA'S at Fifty

I have lots of thoughts about fifty years of the Country Music Association awards, and I'm the one to share them, because I watched the very first telecast in 1968.

I didn't watch this year, but I'll catch up on the videos. I'm prepared to be disappointed, but who knows? Maybe I won't be. But I think I will.

Fifty is a momentous milestone. Fifty years of country music!

I remember 1970, when Merle Haggard collected every award except female vocalist of the year. I remember a tipsy Charlie Rich pulling a lighter out of his pocket and setting fire to the card that read, "John Denver". I remember Alan Jackson stopping in mid-song and breaking into a rendition of "He Stopped Loving Her Today" in protest of George Jones not being invited to perform on the awards telecast. I remember when Alabama was a foregone conclusion to be named Vocal Group of the Year and the other four bands just filled out Alabama's dance card. I remember Rodney Crowell winning Album of the Year in 1988 for "Diamonds and Dirt", and thinking, I guess the CMA members do have taste after all.

But that's all for another day.

I will say this, however:  Randy Travis.

Stay tuned....

Far Out! It's The Seventies!

That's right. The seventies. Who knew?

The popularity of American Hustle and Anchorman II has revived that lost decade. And by lost, I mean lost. I don't even remember the person I was in the nineteen seventies - it sure isn't anyone I recognize - but it's an indisputable fact I was there.

Let's face it - the music in the nineteen seventies was oftentimes cheesy. And yet, as I sat in the movie theater, watching that Oscar-nominated film (obviously not Anchorman - I mean the other film), I began to think, hmm - maybe it wasn't so awful after all.

Anyone who wasn't around back then would peg this as the ultimate representation of the 1970's:

And who could blame them? I love ABBA. Aside from John Denver, who best to take on the mantle of the nineteen seventies with such panache?

Thing is, the seventies encompassed ten whole years, and one can't sum up a whole decade with just the Bee Gees and four Norwegian pop singers. There were the Eagles and Olivia Newton-John and the Carpenters and Barry Manilow and Elton John and Wings and Fleetwood Mac and Helen Reddy (wow - haven't thought about her in decades). And don't forget Tony Orlando and Dawn. The whole thing was schizophrenic.

My taste in seventies music runs more toward England Dan and John Ford Coley than Boogie Oogie Oogie, but there's no denying that the seventies could get you out on the dance floor (that is, if you were a woman. Men don't dance, and when they try, they just look ridiculous).

So, bear with me as I indulge my country leanings first....

...with the Eagles:

...England Dan and John Ford Coley:

...Fleetwood Mac:

...John Denver:

...BJ Thomas:

...the Carpenters (ahhh):

...Olivia Newton-John:

...Ray Stevens (yes, Ray Stevens):

...and one just can't forget Blue Swede (or can they?):

...Andy Gibb (rest in peace):

But, you know, the decade rolled along and things got louder and even weirder than Blue Swede. But didn't everybody have fun?

The Village People (okay everybody - on your feet!):

Oh, I would never forget the Brothers Gibb:

Rod Stewart:

Okay, I don't care - this was from the seventies - and it happens to be one of my all-time faves, so give it up for John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John:

Did anyone actually do the Hustle? Well, I never learned the steps, apparently. Nevertheless, here is Van McCoy:

Which leads me back to the iconic images and sounds of the seventies. From ABBA to this, and I'm betting this is what everyone is going to remember:

In hindsight, I guess the seventies are kind of fun to look back on, in a nostalgic, cringe-worthy way - from Watergate to WIN buttons, from typewriters to Cabbage Patch dolls.

From eighteen per cent interest rates to my mom paying for the two of us to see Saturday Night Fever, during which I sank lower and lower in my seat, embarrassed to be watching an R-rated movie up there on the big screen (with sex scenes!) accompanied by my mom!

My sons were born in the seventies, and I'm sorry they don't have a "cool" decade to claim as their own, but hey - I was born in the fifties, so I had Pat Boone and Perry Como. And those guys are really hard to dance to.

I should say thanks to American Hustle for reminding me of those times. I guess it's a whole cottage industry now - movies about the nineteen seventies. It started with Argo, and I guess it'll run its course.

And then they'll start making movies featuring eighties songs from the likes of A-HA and Lionel Richie.

And then everyone can laugh and laugh.

More Bad Years In Country Music

I was browsing our local record store with my husband today.  Local record store....that's a term that will cease to exist soon.  Like "pay phone".

I don't really buy music anymore, so I was just keeping my husband company, while he sifted through the shelves of used CD's.  (He insisted I buy something, so we could get the "buy four" special deal, whatever that was.  So, I bought the soundtrack from "Footloose" - $4.50!)

Calling this place a "record store" is to use the term loosely.  They do (still) have CD's and albums (for the pretentious music lover), but the store is mostly filled with tchotchkes of all manner; novelty key chains, little metal tins of "things", I guess; mood rings, t-shirts, posters.  The CD aisles keep getting pushed aside for the real money-making items.

As I was apathetically flipping through the selection of CD's, I saw one titled, "Top Country Hits of 1971", and I thought, were there some?  But thinking about it later, I realized that 1971 wasn't the worst seventies year for country music.  A lot of them were the worst.  You can't really pick just one.

But for fun, tonight I decided to pick on 1974.

What I remember about 1974 is driving around to various mobile home sales lots, to pick out just the right mobile home.  No, we didn't call them trailers, although they weren't exactly "mobile", either.  People like to use the pejorative, "trailer trash", to describe someone who's crude, disreputable, tawdry.  Oh, I could find many more adjectives.  But I don't remember being "trash"; I just remember being "poor".  The interest rate in 1974 was 17%.  Who could afford to buy a real house?  Not me.   And actually, as I was browsing, I found a lot of mobile homes that I thought were cute.  I liked them.  Sure, I didn't realize the issue of little-to-no insulation, which became a problem during the North Dakota winters, but overall, they mimicked a "real house" ~ they had real appliances and everything!  I didn't have to use a wood cook stove or a washboard to do my laundry, believe it or not.  People can be such snobs.

Anyway, I was driving around, looking, then coming back and looking again, and of course, the AM radio was keeping me company in my 1970 blue Chevy Impala.  So, I heard a lot of country music.  But, of course, one did not need to drive around to hear music.  Music was a big thing back then.  We only had about 15 TV channels provided by our cable "service", and you know, most of those were public access or other stuff that you just whipped right past, in order to get to the NBC channel to watch Phil Donahue.  So, we listened to music a lot, even at home.

When I browse the country music charts for 1974, I find a lot of either losers or completely forgotten tunes.  A lot of the songs were either boring or "icky", but we put up with them; tolerated them, because really what options did we have?

In featuring the hits of 1974 tonight, I'm going to randomly mix the good with the bad, and I'm not going to comment (too much), because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  Something that I just hate, hate!  is probably someone else's all-time favorite song.  But if you're unfamiliar with the year, you can certainly make up your own mind.  And, or course, the usual caveat is, I will feature what I can find.  There's not a lot of what you'd call "historical" music available on YouTube, because, you know, technology was so bad back then.  We barely had electricity most of the time.

TOM T. HALL (dueting with Dolly Parton here - which he didn't actually do on the record; fyi.)



Speaking of DOLLY PARTON:



Let me just say that I know a lot of people love this song.  I do not.  I think it's one of Dolly's lesser efforts, but if you listen to a bunch of Janie-come-latelys in the music biz, you would think this is one of the best songs EVER.  While it's always a temptation to write a song completely in minor chords, it rarely turns out well.  Because it's just too depressing.  And I don't like the sing-songy, "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jo-LEEEN"; it just grates on my nerves.  I said I wasn't going to comment "much".  Sorry.

I always loved JOHNNY RODRIGUEZ.   Here is his version of a song written by Lefty Frizzell.  You may be more familiar with the Merle Haggard version.



The song that probably most defines 1974 for me, was recorded by CAL SMITH.  This was a number one song, and possibly the number one song of the year.  Lord knows, it was played often enough to become the number one song.



I'll just be honest here, and admit that I HATE recitation songs.  Hate them.  They're always maudlin and sickly sweet.  Are they supposed to make you cry?  Of course they are!  But I don't really find them "sad", per se.  Well, yes, they're "sad", but not in a good way.

And I liked Melba Montgomery.  By the way, before Tammy came along, ol' George recorded a lot of duets with Melba.  And I like the name "Melba".  You don't hear that name anymore.  Unless you're having some toast.

So, MELBA MONTGOMERY (not the original performance, obviously):



In 1974, RONNIE MILSAP was a new performer on the scene.  Sometimes somebody comes along who has staying power.  Here's the proof (and have you ever heard Cap'n Crunch referenced in a song before?  Silly question.)



You know, Whitney Houston didn't originate this next song.  While everybody else was oohing and ahhing over this "new" hit song by Whitney, country fans were like, well, that's a different take on an oldie!

Here's DOLLY again:

 

While not an original MICKEY GILLEY song, it was still a good one.  Again, this is not a 1974 performance, obviously.  My dad always liked this song, and that's good enough for me.  Unfortunately, this performance is a "medley", so you don't actually get the full benefit of what the song was like in its entirety, but doesn't he sound more and more like his cuz all the time (and I don't mean Jimmy Swaggart)?  Mickey had a good run in the Urban Cowboy days, but more power to him, I say.  At least he wasn't Johnny Lee.



BOBBY BARE has never gotten his due.  We're really quick to move on to the next big thing, and we forget people.  Bobby Bare belongs in the Country Music Hall of Fame, but I'm not holding my breath anymore.  I fought that fight, and nobody listened to me, but I keep listening to Bobby anyway.  This is a novelty song, really, but it was a big hit in 1974, and I did have the single.  Of course, I bought a lot of singles back then....at Woolworth's.



I don't know what to say about DONNA FARGO, really.  Let me say that she is, I understand, a really nice person.  I'm sure it's my personal problem that I just can't forgive her for The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA.  I wrote about that song in a post a long time ago, and, let's face it, the lyrics of that song were some of the stupidest, most asinine lyrics ever written ever.

But Donna had other hits, too.  Here's one (but she really should have lost the coveralls):



BILLY "CRASH" CRADDOCK was the precursor to Billy Ray Cyrus, I guess.  That faux-sexiness, that wasn't really sexy at all, unbeknownst to the Billy Rays.  He did try hard, though, and he had dazzlingly white teeth.  Here is "Rub It In":



I know people are going to flog me, but I think this next song is FAR BETTER than He Stopped Loving Her Today.  I know it's heretical to say this, but the truth is the truth.  It's a better song.  Better written; more soulful.  Says the EXACT SAME THING, essentially, as that other song.  Norro Wilson wrote this.  He wrote a great one, and this is a great performance, by GEORGE JONES:



WAYLON JENNINGS was represented (well) in 1974.  Here is Ramblin' Man:



Did I say before that I hated the song, Jolene?  I was maybe too harsh.  If my choices were to listen to Jolene, or to listen to this next song all day long, I'd go with Jolene.  You know that sensation of fingernails on a chalkboard?  Well, here's DOLLY again (and why does she keep wearing that purple jumpsuit every time?  Doesn't she have any other outfits?):



I used to be so biased against JOHN DENVER, back then, in the seventies.  I don't even remember why.  There was something; something going on, but I forget what it was.  Because, actually, in hindsight, this next song is more country than most of the so-called "country" songs that I have featured in this post.  I don't get it.  But I'm not going to lose sleep trying to remember, because I was obviously wrong.  And this song proves how wrong I was.



Another song I blithely dismissed, back then, in 1974, was this next song, recorded by BILLY SWAN.  Because, every time I hear it now, which isn't too often, but occasionally it gets played on oldies radio, lo these 38 years later (seriously?), I like it, and I completely enjoy hearing it.  I'm beginning to think I was just stupid 38 years ago.  Or I had bad taste, or no taste.  But I still hate Love Is Like a Butterfly.  That hasn't changed.

Here is "I Can Help":



So, I scrolled through the list of number one songs from 1974, and then I moved on to what Wikipedia labels "other singles released", and I realized that some of the best songs apparently never hit that number one spot.  Well, there's no accounting for taste, as evidenced by the fact that I hated John Denver, inexplicably.

Here's one of those "other songs".....CONNIE SMITH:



In case you forgot, and you probably did, MEL TILLIS had a slew of hit records in 1974.  Here's one of them:



Speaking of novelties (which I think I did at some point, earlier), here's one.  Do you remember JIM STAFFORD?   Maybe you had to be there.  Jim Stafford was kind of an odd duck, but an entertaining one!  I remember working at my first ever real job, at the State Capitol, and they'd play this song on KFYR (AM) a whole lot.  My Girl Bill:



Can't believe that one is considered one of the "others", because I sure heard it a lot in 1974.

I'll leave you with this, because I'm tired, and there were a lot of songs that charted in 1974; too many for one post, and maybe 1974 wasn't as awful as my selective memory told me that it was.  I will say that, surprisingly,  the "others" were some of the best ones.  I don't get that.  But hindsight is 20/20.

Here is GEORGE & TAMMY:























  

Someone Should Invent...

...a software program that analyzes one's musical collection, and tells them which era contained the best music.

I'm guessing, for most people, it's not the seventies.

I uploaded all my music onto Google Music, once, on a whim, because I thought it would be cool to be able to listen to my music anytime, anywhere.

Well, I never used it until yesterday, at work. I was tired of all the talk radio blah, blah, blah, so I thought, in order to get through that last day of the week, I'd queue up my Google Music and listen to that for a change.

I set it for "shuffle".

The very first song that queued up was "Play That Funky Music", from the seventies, as you know.

But the funny thing is, I never once, in the course of approximately six hours, heard another song from the seventies.

The seventies was not the epitome of good music.

Oh sure, you can quibble about it; point out the big hits from that decade. Anyone can do that with any decade; just pick out the best songs.

But, let's be honest. It was a lost decade of music, overall. Not just in rock, but in country as well.

I don't know...what I remember about country music during that time period is Charley Pride rehashing songs that were semi-hits in the rock genre. Dave & Sugar ~ remember them? Eddie Rabbitt ~ okay, I like Eddie Rabbitt.

Yes, you had your "After The Fire Is Gone", by Conway and Loretta. And you had your "Behind Closed Doors".

But you also had a whole lot of John Denver. And while I appreciate John Denver more today, that stuff was pure poison when it was happening.

And rock?

Well, sure, we had the Eagles.

And we had "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" and "Let's Get It On".

But let's be real.

THAT'S not what we remember from the seventies.

THIS is what we remember:



Along with any number of songs by Billy Joel, this goes down in history as most likely my LEAST favorite song of all time.

Sure, feel free to listen to all seven and whatever number of minutes of this song. I got the gist basically from the first verse and chorus. Talk about self-indulgent. You know, the Beatles rarely did songs that were even THREE minutes long. And look where that got them.

And, while we're on the subject of annoying songs, how about this one? Don't even tell me that you LIKE this. How could that be? It's repetitive and boring. And mundane. Additionally, it is non-sensical. Although I suppose that never stopped anyone before. I won't listen to it, but here it is, for the 1% of persons alive who have never heard this song before:



You probably won't believe this, but this song was HUGE in the seventies. Yes, really:



But thinking about it, it kind of fits with this song:



Still lovin' those seventies?

How about this?



Remember the Starland Vocal Band? Of course not! But lead singer, Alan Colmes, had a huge, and I mean HUGE, hit with this song:



And speaking of John Denver, apparently he was easy to please. Just give him some sunshine on his "shoulders". Not on his hands. Not on his face. No, on his shoulders:



And who can forget Kenny Nolan? Apparently me, because who the heck? Yet, this was a big hit in that seventies pantheon. And who doesn't love harp music?



And don't even tell me that when you hear this song:



You don't think of Eddie Murphy. Because I do. And I never hesitate to sing along:

Unce, tice
Fee tines a may-dee

Sure, reunited and it feels so good. To them, maybe:



I sincerely love how Terry Jacks performs this song with so much emotion. As if it really means something (which it doesn't):



And, of course, there are times when a woman has to say what's on her mind, but I'm thinking this is NOT the time:



I really love Glen Campbell, but that doesn't blind me to his missteps. And here's one, albeit another big hit:



So, don't go all nostalgic on me, pining for those lost days of the seventies. The seventies were crap.

I'll grant you, there were some good songs (none of them featured here, obviously). But those good songs were few and far between.

As much as you may want to re-write history, well, here it is.

I may be magnanimous and feature the GOOD songs of the seventies at some point, but really, the good songs aren't what we remember. We remember the crap.

I'm thinking that's why my Google Music selections have so few offerings from that decade. Google (and I) would prefer to just pretend it never happened.

The CMA Awards - 1975

1975 was a weird year for the CMA's. Actually, it was just a weird year, period. Everybody watched their hard-earned savings go down the drain; the US was in a recession; gas prices were high. The President (Ford) thought the way to get the country back on track was to have everyone slap on a "WIN" button (Whip Inflation Now). Flash forward to 2008. Oh wait, I thought we were talking about 2008.

And, of course, we had a presidential campaign going on. Just like now.

And just like now, the music of 1975 sort of sucked.

In 1975, country music was stuck in a rut. The CMA vote-counters, I'm sure, were just as flummoxed as everyone else. Everybody was getting tired of handing out the same old trophies to the same old people, but there just weren't too many bright spots on the horizon. Things needed to change, to light a spark under the record-buying public, but instead, Nashville was offering up the same girl singers in their same Little House on the Prairie dresses, with their same three-chord songs about the no-good man that done them wrong.

If there were new acts being signed, they sure didn't seem to get promoted. A few newcomers hit the charts now and then, but it happened in spite of Nashville, not because of it.

The powers-that-be in the country music business probably had that tired attitude that said this stuff is good, and we're not changing it. You know, sort of like some old tired music blogger who's always talking about how the country music of the nineties was so much better.

But, in spite of themselves, the promoters and movers 'n shakers in Nashville knew that something needed to be done. So, this is what they came up with:

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

John Denver



Okay, this isn't what would spring to MY mind immediately, if I was looking for a fresh voice for country music. And this isn't even country music. It's folk. And even today, 33 years later, this still sort of sucks.

I now remember why I used to hate John Denver.

And this, coupled with Olivia Newton-John's win the year prior, was what got the old timers in country music all riled up, and led them to create their own organization. (I think that lasted about one or two years). And they gave all their awards to Grandpa Jones, even female vocalist of the year, and he was sort of p.o.'d about that.

So, like the industry folks of 1975, you can see I'm torn. I hated John Denver and all the sappy crap that he stood for, but I also didn't think that Grandpa deserved awards, either (nothing against Grandpa).

If I, and everyone else, was looking for something a bit more exciting to get behind in 1975, this was pretty good:

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Waylon Jennings



(And you notice in this video, they kept a'showin' his hands, but not his face on TV; at least not right away.)

Can you picture the scene backstage, when Waylon ran into John Denver?

"Hey there, little snot-nosed creep. How ya doin'?"

"Um, fine, Mr. Jennings. Thanks for letting me be here."

"Wadn't my idea, son. If it was up to me, I'd rather just shoot ya."

"Thanks, Mr. Jennings! I've gotta go now. I think I need to clean my wire-rims."

"Get the hell outta here, boy!"

So, there you have it. The yin and the yang, shall we say, of 1975. The schizophrenia that permeated the confines of the Ryman Auditorium.

I wish I could say that there were a bunch more surprises that year, but there weren't.

The FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR award went to Dolly Parton for this little song, that, if anyone remembers correctly, didn't do much on the charts. Who knew that Dolly would eventually end up earning one BAZILLION dollars in royalties for it? Lucky!



The SINGLE OF THE YEAR was awarded to Freddy Fender for this song, which is sweet, and has the added bonus of being the first CMA award given to a Hispanic performer (although Johnny Rodriguez surely deserved something for "Pass Me By").



The ALBUM OF THE YEAR went to Ronnie Milsap for "A Legend In My Time". I've already posted the video of this song before, so I thought I'd go with something different this time around.

Just as a postscript, however, I did have this album, and it was good. Country, for the longest time, didn't really know what to do with albums. They'd basically slap on a hit or two, and fill up the rest with cover songs. Ronnie didn't do that. He found some songs that nobody had yet recorded, which was refreshing. And it was a fun album.

This song was recorded long after 1975, but I just like it:



The VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR was the Statler Brothers.......again. Sorry, but I'm just running out of videos of these guys. So, I thought (in the hopes that they don't keep winning, simply for the fact that I'm reaching the end of my video-search capabilities) that I would post a video of their alter-egos, Lester Moran & the Cadillac Cowboys. Enjoy.



CONWAY and LORETTA won for VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR yet again. I've run out of videos, so if you want to see them in concert, please check my previous posts. Not to be cavalier, but the available videos on YouTube are quite limited.

For a refreshing change of pace, JOHNNY GIMBLE won the INSTRUMENTALIST OF THE YEAR award. Johnny goes waaaaay back to the Bob Wills days, and I think he's the best fiddler to ever grace the world of country music.

Here's a video that also features Suzy Bogguss and Chet Atkins.



INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR

Roy Clark & Buck Trent

Well, I remember Buck Trent when he was one of Porter's Wagonmasters. He gave Porter that distinctive sound. But, as time moved on, so did Buck, and he evenutally teamed up with Roy Clark, and I guess they did some recordings. Not that YouTube could attest to that, because I couldn't find any videos of the two of them in performance together.

This was the best I could find, and I don't know what the setting of this was, but I think it was a gathering of the old folks at home.....the nursing home.



It's sort of disturbing, in a way, to see how all these folks have aged, but hey, they seem to be having a good time, so good for them! Anyway, Roy is in the audience, and Buck (I barely recognize him) is front and center as the ladies of the Opry sing this old chestnut. I didn't know that was Norma Jean, but Jeannie Seely still looks remarkably good! And there's Bill "I'm still winning songwriting awards" Anderson in the audience, along with Little Jimmy Dickens, Johnny Bush, Jim Ed Brown, and a bunch of other people who are apparently a shell of their former selves, because I have no idea who they are, but they must have been somebody at one time.

SONG OF THE YEAR

"Back Home Again" - John Denver

Obviously, this is a (much) later performance of this song, but I actually don't hate it! It's a pretty good one!

So, John definitely had it in him to do good songs. It's just that that "Sunshine" song was such a loser. But this one I like.



COUNTRY MUSIC HALL OF FAME

Minnie Pearl

I think she was a nice lady. And boy, what a legacy. She was probably the first female in country music who made you stand up and take notice. She wasn't going to fade into the woodwork, like a pair of red velvet drapes. She was out there! Yelling, "HOWWWW-DEEEEE!" And I bet if you saw her, you didn't forget her. She was out there, traveling in a wood-paneled station wagon with Hank Williams and Faron Young, with the bass fiddle strapped to the top. She had ultimate confidence.

And her induction was well deserved.

The videos available of Minnie aren't many. But here's one from a George Burns special, that'll give you the essence of Minnie Pearl.



So, there you go. 1975. Where the past met the.......future? Where a legend like Waylon stood on the same stage with a legend like John Denver........two completely incompatible artists. But they came together in a truly strange year for country music.

What's On Your MP3 Player?

I've been listening to tunes tonight. I always have my mp3 player on "shuffle", because I like to be surprised.

I thought it would be fun to just choose the first 10 songs (okay, I went with 12) that came up on my player, and list them here.

I think the music that is on one's mp3 player can reveal a lot about someone's musical tastes (especially is they use the "shuffle" option). So, here's what came up on mine:

CROSBY, STILLS & NASH - TEACH YOUR CHILDREN


MEL CARTER - HOLD ME, THRILL ME, KISS ME


JOHN DENVER - TAKE ME HOME, COUNTRY ROADS


ROSANNE CASH - MY BABY THINKS HE'S A TRAIN


JASON CASTRO (FILLING IN FOR JOHN SEBASTIAN) - DAYDREAM


SHEENA EASTON - 9 TO 5 (MORNING TRAIN)


JOURNEY - OPEN ARMS


THE DOORS - ROADHOUSE BLUES


RAY STEVENS - MISTY


JERRY LEE LEWIS - YOU WIN AGAIN


THE BEACH BOYS - SAIL ON, SAILOR


KEVIN FOWLER - THE LORD LOVES THE DRINKIN' MAN

As The Decades Turn - The Seventies

We (I) like to denigrate the '70's. Who doesn't? That's truly not fair, though. There was some really good music in the '70's. And some really bad music. I think the problem, for me, is that there was so much bad music, that I tend to only focus on that.

As I surfed the net to find the top songs of the seventies (since I had totally blocked them all from my mind), I found a whole cornucopia of widely divergent songs.

So, for fun, I thought I'd mix in a few cringe-worthy songs with the good stuff. You be the judge.


ORLEANS - STILL THE ONE


This obviously isn't a vintage video (you think?) This was from a PBS show, which I happened to watch, at least up until the point where Crystal Gayle came on and slurred the words to "Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue". Then I had to turn it off. Anyhoo, this song starts us off on an upbeat note. Even though the lead singer can no longer hit most of the high notes, this is still a very decent performance. Then they all hobbled off to their waiting ambulances. ha ha ~ no, that's most likely untrue. As I was browsing YouTube, I was reminded that ABC Network used this song as a promo way back when, you know to advertise their classic shows, such as Starsky & Hutch. Before we say goodbye to Orleans for now, let's remind ourselves that they really look nothing like they did back when this song was a hit:














(Wonder which one is the bald guy....)


DON MCLEAN - AMERICAN PIE


Okay, don't even get me started on this one. Here it is, in all its 8 minutes and 30 seconds of glory. You know, Don started to write a novel. Then he thought, wait! I'll make it a song instead! Some people tell me they like this song. I think I might have liked it if, say, there were 2 verses and a chorus. That's about all I can take. Not EIGHT FRICKIN' MINUTES AND 30 SECONDS! Good god! Edit, Don. Edit. Anyway, if you watch this video and like it, cool. I just don't have the time, so I'll take your word for it.









GRAND FUNK RAILROAD - THE LOCOMOTION


I bet Little Eva is turning over in her.......bed........(cuz she's probably still alive, I guess). This is a wee bit different from her version. I liked this one when it came out. Still like it. It's about as close to heavy metal as I choose to come. Well, this and Deep Purple, of course. And might I say, nothing says THE SEVENTIES more than a lime green leisure suit!


JOHN DENVER - TAKE ME HOME, COUNTRY ROADS


See, you thought I was doing good song, bad song. Right? Ha! This is a GOOD song! I confess, I never liked John Denver when he was at the height of his success. In hindsight, I was wrong, for the most part. This is a great song, well performed, well arranged. It's sort of a classic (now). If this song were released today, it would fall under the heading of "Americana". And it wouldn't get any airplay, because, you know, that's just the way things are nowadays. But luckily, radio stations weren't so inanely stubborn back then. Oh, I'm not saying John didn't get his share of flack. He got a lot of flack. From the country folks. And I was one of the "flackers". "How does he deserve a CMA award?" "He's not country!" Well, today, he would be considered too country to be deserving of any type of award. My, my, my. Haven't the chickens come home to roost? Or some other saying that probably makes more sense in this context.


THE BEE GEES - STAYIN' ALIVE


Hey, I've got no quibbles with this song. Yes, it's disco. And we can basically "thank" the Bee Gees for disco, but this song is aiiight. It's got a good beat; you can thrust your arm up in the air to it. I am struck, however, by Barry's matching white teeth and tight white pants. I'm surprised he could even walk in those pants. No wonder they were walking reallllly slowwwwly at the end of this video.


THE VILLAGE PEOPLE - YMCA


Again, catchy tune. I wonder how the motorcycle cop got to do the lead on this. I guess the cowboy in the little tiny hat and the Indian were busy fighting border wars. And the construction worker was busy arguing with the leather-clad hell's angel. And the army dude was probably the understudy, in case the motorcycle cop couldn't fulfill his lead singing duties and/or direct traffic. I don't know. I'm just a viewer. I'm not privy to the in-fighting amongst the People.


HARRY NILSSON - WITHOUT YOU


Grainy video, but well worth watching. I didn't know much about Harry Nilsson, other than this song, and "Everybody's Talkin'". He sure had some pipes! When he gets to the last chorus, and the "Can't LIVE" part, wow! Nothin' wrong with this song! Oh, and by the by, a certain pop star who wears absurdly short, tight dresses, and looks AWFUL in them, re-recorded this song in the nineties. It doesn't hold a candle to the original. Nice try, though.


ABBA - WATERLOO


Well, people make fun of ABBA, but I don't really know why. I liked them. They were pop at its best. And aside from the Saab, what other Swedish import can you think of? None. I will say, however, that Agnetha (apparently) ~ one of the "A's" in ABBA, could have made a better fashion choice than the too-tight pants (sorry, but that midriff bulge was evident) and the Elton John silver boots. But, ah, the Swedes. They march to the beat of their own Swedish drummer. And here he is:









JIM CROCE - OPERATOR


Funny how fate works. Not funny, literally, but odd. Jim Croce was taken before his time, as they say. But I guess God said it was his time. But this was a uniquely talented individual. I would have liked to have him hang around awhile longer, to hear more of his songs. In 2008, he would be recording albums that somebody like me would buy. Just to breathe in his beautifully written songs. But I guess there's been a few (or more than a few) that we wish were still around. We have to console ourselves with what they've left behind.


THE CARPENTERS - CLOSE TO YOU


Gee, is it me? I'm starting to get all sentimental here. Here's Karen singing a brilliant Bacharach/David song from 1970. I'm starting to wish that these folks (like Karen Carpenter and Jim Croce) were still around, because their music was so lovely, and there's not much lovely music out there anymore. At the point in the song when they get to the "ahhhhh's", you kind of just melt. I guess my original assessment of seventies music was kind of off the mark. Because I'm finding some beautiful, timeless stuff. Glad to be wrong.



Okay, I really hate to do this, but here it is:

DEBBY BOONE - YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE


You knew this one was coming. "Finally a chance to say, hey, I love you." "Hey, love you, babe." And not to be overly critical, but why did Debby always wear her bathrobe when she performed this song? Is it because she, along with the rest of us, was verrrry sleepy?










GREASE - Need I say more?

Well, I've seen this movie approximately 3,548,019 times. And counting. I LOVE this movie.

So, bear with me, as I relive this classic moment:







And finally, to close out this installment of the seventies, I am choosing this one. From a band that just keeps going and going. And frankly, hasn't lost anything in more than 30 years:

THE EAGLES - ONE OF THESE NIGHTS