Runaway

April–May 1961

A clever little song, this. I heard this a million times on the oldies stations growing up, but I always just knew it as the song where he goes "wah-wah-wah-wah." Spending four weeks at the top, it was a fairly big smash hit.

The most recognizable hook of the song is obviously the falsetto bit in the chorus – this couldn't have been a hit without it. However, as often happens to those who record such hits, Shannon was forever doomed to be that guy who does the falsetto thing. After "Runaway"'s, er, runaway success, he was undeniably goaded into attempting similar hits by his producers. You can't quite call him a one-hit wonder, because he actually had two more top-ten hits in the next few years: "Hats Off to Larry," which is a lame rewrite of "Runaway;" as well as the surprisingly good "Keep Searchin' (We'll Follow the Sun)."

And like so many other of the artists on our list, he has long since faded into obscurity, due to his inability to create more than basically one interesting thing. Oddly, he broke into the Top 40 one last time in 1981 with a terrible cover of "Sea of Love," and after that the world forgot about him. He died less than ten years later at age 55. So it goes.

A-

Blue Moon

April 1961

Doo-wop group The Marcels weren't quite a one-hit wonder (they had another top-ten with "Heartaches") but they are remembered best for the insanely catchy "Blue Moon."

This song is fun because it's a re-imagining of a much sappier, older song. This wasn't uncommon in the day (cf. "Georgia on My Mind," "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes") but this is one of the coolest and most original examples, I think. Really, the only thing it has in common is the melody – The Marcels' version is much faster, it's danceable, and instead of schmaltzy strings it's got one of the most famous doo-wop vocal arrangements ever.

One of the interesting things about this song is that the backing vocals are the most recognizable part of the song – not the lead singer. The "bom buh-buh bom" refrain is what makes the song what it is. I honestly can't think of another song where this is true. Sure, it's a common feature of doo-wop to have a strong baritone to provide the bass notes, but here it's so distinctive that it's elevated to the main stage.

It's funny that with all the fame that bass hook has achieved, the same bass singer is (in my opinion) an incredible distraction during the middle eight section. The endless "doo-doo"s are pretty stupid sounding, and borderline comical. I suspect that most people hear this song without really noticing it, but for me it's unavoidable. When the main section comes back around, I'm relieved.

Well, I'd certainly like to hear this song more than once in a... okay, fine, I'll spare you.

B+

Surrender

March 1961

Another goodie from Elvis, at the top of the chart for two weeks in spring.

Geez, for a song that's less than two minutes long, it's ridiculously epic sounding. It's got a crack production that results in a terribly exciting, but very short burst of pop music. I've thought of a few factors that give it this "epic"-ness.

The first is the minor key. Plenty of Elvis's blues-rock numbers are in the usual minor blues keys, but this one is in a totally different style, and that keeps it pretty dark, compared to most of the guy's stuff. The next thing is the lush orchestration: the piano, horn section, chorus, and effects-heavy, Hawaiian-esque guitar all merge to create a sort of aural storm.

And of course, the thing I'm referring to most when I label this as "epic" is those huge, pseudo-operatic crescendos - one in the middle and then again at the very end. Elvis had a larger-than-life status in his day's culture, and I think that's the reason he could get away with this sort of thing. The enormous, sweeping sound of this record fit perfectly with (and probably enhanced) his demigod persona at the time.

Also, the intro sounds like James Bond.

B+

Pony Time

February–March 1961

One sure way to know that a dance craze hasn't stood the test of time – I can't find a single video on the web of someone doing the "pony." However, I'm sure that 50 years ago it wasn't too hard to find someone doing the dance, as Chubby Checker's song was #1 for three weeks.



You may have noticed that this song is exactly the same as "The Twist." Except he took out the word "twist" and replaced it with "pony." I can't say I'm thrilled about this one, especially since I have no idea what the dance even looks like. I found a description of the steps here, but I'm not about to parse through that tome and figure out what it means.

This was Checker's second and final #1 single, although he would continue to crank out Top 40 hits for the next few years. Browsing through the titles, almost all of them appear to be either attempts at starting a dance craze – "Dance the Mess Around," "The Fly," "Limbo Rock" – or extensions of the twist – "Let's Twist Again," "Slow Twistin'," "Twist It Up."

Talk about a one-trick... pony!

Oof. Sorry about that one. But really, this is the mark of someone who didn't have a lot of talent, but managed to strike it big with one lucky recording. Where someone truly talented would have continued to create new and original things, Checker merely rode out the success of "The Twist" as far as he could, until he was absolutely sure the public didn't care about him anymore. His last hit, "Let's Do the Freddie," barely scraped the Top 4o in 1965 – and I don't have to hear it to know that it's a semi-failed attempt at yet another dance craze. I'll happily acknowledge that "The Twist" is a great song, but, like so many great things, it inspired countless weak imitations.

B-

Calcutta

February 1961

Lawrence Welk was some guy with a TV show that I'll never care about. His instrumental "Calcutta" was #1 for two weeks in 1961. I cannot imagine a public that would put this song at the top of the pop chart. If you own this record, YOU are responsible.

One of the problems with the format of this blog is that I am forcing myself to write an entry on each and every song that fits the category. Which means I have to come up with something meaningful to say about "Calcutta." But really, there is nothing to say. It's an existential problem for me. I'm gonna go watch TV.

F

Will You Love Me Tomorrow

January–February 1961

How to Ruin a Great Song

An Unscientific Study

Our next song, I hope most people would agree, is a pretty rad song. It's the first of several smash hits by the girl group The Shirelles, and the first #1 by any group of that genre; it remains one of the best. Written by Carole King, it features a great, memorable melody; and lead singer Shirley Owens lends it a cool, confident air, helped in no small part by its distinctive string arrangement. This track will serve as the basis for our analysis:

This song, in particular, is notable for having an insane number of cover versions by all kinds of famous musicians. I have not the patience to listen to all of them, but of the one's I've found, they are uniformly boring (with the unsurprising exception of King's own version from her Tapestry album). There are versions of the song by the likes of Dusty Springfield, Cher, Dionne Warwick, Elton John, Joe Walsh, Neil Diamond, The Bee Gees, and countless others; there's even a hilarious version by a very young Ronnie James Dio. However, this being a blog focused on the most popular of songs, I will examine the 3 covers which made it to the top 40.

1968 - The Four Seasons

This rendition's major offenses are twofold. The first is its annoyingly busy arrangement, featuring violins, surf guitar, organ, a frantic bass guitar, and what sounds like a harpsichord. And it's almost as if the song's producers realized this, because they mixed the vocals way above the instruments, creating the effect of the Four Seasons' voices floating above a horrible, swirling chaos.

The second offense is that the harmony of the song is changed, in a forced attempt to make the version differ from the original. The result is that the song remains totally recognizable, but without the lean, economical punch of the Shirelles' version. For example, the reason that one string hook in the original (you know the one) works so well is because 1) it's the only featured instrument in that particular bar, and 2) it's simple and elegant, blending gracefully with the minimal, carefully selected chord pattern. And this is to say nothing of the song's main vocal melody.

1975 - Morningside Drive

This version is curiously unavailable online, so I have not heard it. However, it is purportedly a disco arrangement of the song. Have we really any reason to believe it doesn't completely suck?

1978 - Dave Mason

Mason, of Traffic fame, recorded this bland-as-beans cover, apparently while simultaneously doing his taxes. He simply does not care in the least about the song; it has a distinct "goin' through the motions" feel. The song suffers from an overly slick, late-70s pop production, and lackadaisical, non-shit-giving performances by everyone involved. Accordingly, this track has been largely banished to a far corner of history.

Conclusion

So what have we learned? The moral of the story is, don't cover a classic, time-honored song. There are very few examples of this ever succeeding in history. Unless you truly think you have some amazing new insight into it, just leave it alone. Your version will inevitably be damned by comparison to the far superior original. We will not still love it tomorrow.

A+