Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Stay

November 1960

Sometimes, as they say, less is more. "Stay," by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, is a fine example of how that advice can be true – it's short, sweet, and simple, and it's endured very well over the years.



It's quite a fine little tune. I also really like the fact that it was written by Williams himself, purportedly at age 15. I could believe that – the song has got a sort of boyish charm to it, although it's in no way a juvenile subject. Who hasn't ever had a time when they wished the object of their affection would stay just a little bit longer?

The falsetto that comes in on the second verse is definitely the song's selling point – that is, what makes it so distinctive and recognizable. Falsetto was a fairly common technique among the doo-wop groups of the time, and it was never used as appropriately as it is here. I like how they don't bring it out until about a third of the way into the track. The song is set up quite nicely in the first verse, then it hits that minor chord, and then when suddenly that super-high note comes in – it's a little surprising no matter how many times you've heard the song.

As simple as the song is, it's no surprise that it's been adapted into several notable cover versions. My favorite of these is the Hollies' 1963 take, which was a top ten in the UK but never charted in the states. Rather than featuring smooth vocal harmonies, they play the song with frenetic energy, flipping it into hyperspeed and barreling through it like only the British rock and roll bands could. It's an awesome reinvention of the song.

Less exciting is the Four Seasons' 1964 version, which was a top 40 hit despite being basically a copy of the original. I suppose the song fits them because of Frankie Valli's predilection for falsetto singing, but they don't do much to make the song their own – it doesn't have the charm of the Zodiacs.

And much later, in 1977, Jackson Browne scored a top 40 hit with a live version of the song, changing the lyrics so that rather than asking a girl to stay, he's entreating his audience to stay at the show a little longer. Cute, I suppose, if you were there, but I'm surprised the single was so successful. It's yer basic 70s soft-rock rendition of the tune, with a lot of instrumental soloing and a not a lot of enthusiasm. Depending on my mood, I could go for Maurice Williams's original, but more often I think I'd take the Hollies.

B

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Georgia on My Mind

November 1960

Hey! "Mr. Blue" by the Fleetwoods made an appearance in today's New York Times Sunday puzzle, and as a theme answer, no less! I wouldn't have known it if it weren't for this project.

But anyway, Ray Charles.



Charles had been hugely successful for years in the R&B chart – from 1953 to 1959 he had 18 top ten hits on that chart, including four #1s. But it wasn't until 1959's "What'd I Say" that he broke through to the mainstream, and finally scored a top ten on the pop chart. The song, so long that it had to be split into two halves for release on a 45, is sublime. A lengthy instrumental introduction features Charles's explosively virtuosic keyboard playing over a manic rhythm section – we are then treated to one of the most controversial vocal performances ever in popular music. Many fans and critics deplored the song, particularly the ending, for being imitative of sex. Well, they were right, but they would have never guessed that the tune's mixture of gospel ideas with secular lyrical themes would be so influential – "What'd I Say" is often cited as the birth of the genre of soul music.

So how better to follow that success than with a cool, jazzy ballad about the Peach State? The song had been around since 1930, and had been variously covered by just about every jazz group around, but I don't think many people would disagree that Ray Charles's is the definitive version, due to his passionate vocal performance. I guess it makes sense that his first #1 hit would be a sweet, mellow tune rather than his usual, more energetic fare – this kind of thing is more palatable to a mass audience.

Although the cynic in me must point out that it's hard to imagine such a (relatively) challenging melody being so successful today. Or even back then! For example, compare "Georgia" to "Everybody's Somebody's Fool" or "I Want to Be Wanted" (let alone "Poker Face") – it's not immediately whistlable, it's very non-repetitive, and it takes a few listens for the song to really sink in. These are not common features of pop music, where things usually have to be blunt, obvious, and simple to make it big. But hey, sometimes popularity and quality are compatible. This is a terrific song, and I'm glad it's on our list.

A

Thursday, June 10, 2010

I Want to Be Wanted

October 1960

And so here's the second of two #1s by Brenda Lee, following "I'm Sorry." It spent a lone week at the top of the chart in October.



It's worth mentioning again that Little Miss Dynamite was only 15 years old in 1960. And here she is, pining for romantic love in a pop song – a little unsettling, no? Let's even put aside the fact that at 15, we can assume she has no idea what love really means. Any love she may have experienced at this age would be firmly of the "puppy" variety.

But who's the target audience for this song (or any of her other songs, for that matter)? I'm sure at least partly, it's 15-year-olds. But as the song was #1 in America – a substantial portion of the people buying and listening to this record must have been quite a bit older. And without dancing around the issue, there is a definite sort of simmering sexuality to this song. The line about wanting "his lips to really kiss me," and even just the general idea/title are not things you'd expect to hear from a person this age. My imagination can't help but conjure up an image of an unshaven old man, sitting at home playing the record with his wife out of the house, licking his lips and sweating. Think about how many copies this sold – statistically, this must have happened at least once. Think about it. Eeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh.

B-

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Save the Last Dance for Me

October–November 1960

Once in a while the people know what's good for 'em, and so the same America that made "Mr. Custer" #1 turned around and started buying "Save the Last Dance for Me," a now-classic sung by Ben E. King and the Drifters (many will recognize King as the singer of "Stand by Me").



The story goes that co-writer Doc Pomus was sick with polio and could not dance – the idea for the song came to him when he sat watching his wife dance at a party. And unlike most of these stories, this one seems to be pretty much true. I mean, who knows about when exactly the inspiration came to him, but the basic fact remains that he did have polio and couldn't walk without crutches. So it's kind of sweet. It's a remarkably simple, yet unique concept for a song, when you think about it. You could see it one of two ways – either he's all right with his girl having a good time, because he knows she's really and truly his; or he's a little nervous about his girl having a little too much fun and he's sort of calmly entreating her to remember him at the end of the evening. It works just fine either way.

But on the other hand, it's kind of a strange relationship they have if throughout the evening, multiple men are "holding her tight" and holding her hand "beneath the pale moonlight." I know the times and dancing conventions were different, but there's a definite line between dancing and some of the stuff mentioned in the song. I'm just sayin'.

So to me it's a little odd when a female singer does a cover version of the song from the girl's perspective. It's called "I'll Save the Last Dance for You" and it was a Top 40 hit for the singer Damita Jo a couple months later. It's like saying, "yeah baby, I'm gonna mess around a little bit with some other guys, but you know I still love you."

The song has been a Hot 100 hit for several different artists, including an apocalyptically bad version by the dependably awful Michael BublĂ©. But the song is enduringly popular because it's really a damn good song – there's no substitute for good songwriting. And I'd say the original Drifters recording is the best, most honest sounding version we've got.

A