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+

Wonderland by Night

January 1961

Ah, time to kick off a brand new year! Let's see what we have here... aaaaaaaand it's off to a bad start. This clinker apparently sold more records than anything else for three weeks.

It's by Bert Kaempfert, a German musician who both wrote and performed it. I've already expressed my hatred of easy-listening music on this blog, so I won't go into a tirade here, but this kind of song definitely fits into the category. It's both mindless and soulless; it neither requires any effort on the part of the listener, nor does it have anything to offer. There's a word I particularly like that describes this music perfectly: "pap."

But hey, hey, wait a minute. How about this cover version? The always (well, usually) dependable guitarist Leo Kottke gives us a pretty nice rendering of the tune. I dare say, it's a pretty nice melody – not that you'd know it, judging by the hit version. This certainly isn't one of my favorite things by Kottke, but it goes to show how much performance can matter. Of course, you need both things – a good song, and a good performance – and only one or the other doesn't cut it, as demonstrated by our friend Herr Kaempfert.

In fact, Kaempfert himself will come up a couple more times in this blog, but only as a songwriter, not a performer. And that's for the better.

F

Special Secret Bonus Post—1960 Awards

This was the best year so far, I think. We have some great stuff by Elvis, the Everly Brothers, and Ray Charles; a trilogy of teen death sagas; a dance craze that might be the most influential in recent history; and a helping of ridiculous novelty songs. Unfortunately, the song holding the #1 spot for the longest was the theme from A Summer Place, at nine bloody weeks. Anyway, here are my personal picks of the year:

Best Song: This decision is a little tougher than the previous years. "Cathy's Clown," "The Twist," "Save the Last Dance for Me," "Stay," and "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" are all great songs, among some other good ones this year. But my personal favorite has got to be "El Paso," which portrays a doomed love with all the grand style of the western cinema.

Worst Song: There were a few clinkers this year as well, but it would be pretty hard to top "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini," which is a terrible abomination of the earth.

Most Surprising Song: Nothing too out of the ordinary this year. But if I have to pick one, I guess it'll be "Mr. Custer." It's incredibly stupid, and it's not even catchy or anything – it's hard to see why this was such a success.

All right folks. 1961 lies ahead!

Are You Lonesome Tonight?

November 1960–January 1961

It's always comforting to see Elvis on our list. His songs (or his hits, at least) are some of the most dependable of this era. He has a seemingly effortless charisma in his performances, and I can totally see how this guy would get so popular. Here's the next in a long line of Elvis hits, "Are You Lonesome Tonight?"

The song dates back to the 20s, but first became popular in 1950 when it was recorded by some guy called Blue Barron. His version charted in the top 40, but it is totally sappy and not worth your time. A couple other singers covered it during the 50s to moderate success, but it wasn't until 1960 that Elvis gave us the definitive version. For me, this is one Elvis's best performances and one of the best examples of his vocal control – his dynamics, his vibrato, his ability to make every note seem perfectly placed. But wait – it only lasts for one verse! Almost half the song is taken up by the "talking" verse that follows.

To our modern ears, the talking verse is one of the most dated aspects of 50s and 60s music. Elvis used this technique pretty often, and I'm afraid his music suffers a bit for it. He couldn't have just come up with a real second verse? Or had his writers do it? The song would be so much better. As it is, it feels incomplete, with only one "real" verse amongst all the padding. Still, while the actual singing lasts, it's terrific.

But my favorite version of the song has got to be a 1969 live performance, where Elvis goofily changes one of the lyrics, which launches him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter which lasts for the rest of the song, while the backing group plays it totally straight. It's hilarious, mostly because his laughter is so infectious. I've always been a big fan of humor in music, and I think it's important for a musician not to take himself too seriously. Here's a guy that understood that.

A