Angsty, verbose, & whimsical, family man-child devourer of audio stimuli (IOW - music collector/nerd); dilettante drummer; disillusioned lapsed artist; ardent amateur writer; film & television enthusiast; Star Wars stickler; superhero superfan; Detroit baseball nostalgist; naive nature admirer.
I was still in diapers when rock oldies radio hit Detroit in ’74, so my memories are understandably sketchy. So, in the interest of presenting as broad and accurate an account of the 1970s southeastern Michigan rock oldies/rock oldies adjacent radio scene as possible, I did a lot of research – reaching out to older family members, friends, and, of course, the vast resources the good ol’ inter web to fill the gaps. I hope I did it justice. Enjoy!
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Bill Haley & His Comets "Rock Around The Clock" on The Ed Sullivan Show
Johnny B. Goode
Great Balls of Fire
Fats Domino "Blueberry Hill" on The Ed Sullivan Show
Elvis Presley – Heartbreak Hotel (Official Audio)
Little Richard – Good Golly, Miss Molly
Buddy Holly & The Crickets "Peggy Sue" on The Ed Sullivan Show
Wake up Little Susie
I Want To Hold Your Hand (Remastered 2015)
The Byrds – Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is A Season) (Audio)
Simon & Garfunkel – Mrs. Robinson (Audio)
Smokey Robinson & The Miracles – The Tears Of A Clown (Lyric Video)
A collection of highlights from the great rock and roll revival (c. 1968-1984). In the late 1960s, psyche rock fatigue and a cascade of challenging world events fueled rampant ’50s nostalgia; spurring, among other things, renewed public interest in rock’s earliest styles and innovators.
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Back In The U.S.S.R. (2018 Mix)
Lady Madonna
Elvis Presley – Opening Production Number ('68 Comeback Special)
Cheap Thrills
Abraham, Martin And John
Jerry Lee Lewis – Another Place, Another Time
Summertime Blues (40th Anniversary Version – Live At Leeds)
Creedence Clearwater Revival – Travelin' Band (Official Music Video)
Elvis Presley – Suspicious Minds (Official Audio)
Chuck Berry Live 1972 ~ My Ding-a-Ling
I Hear You Knocking
Freedom Blues
Slade – Get Down and Get With It (Slade Alive!) [Official Audio]
History remembers 1991 as the year alternative rock “broke” pop music. Fair enough. But if my memory serves – and in trivial matters it usually does – “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was more of a final straw than battering ram. Thanks to MTV, a multitude of off-center acts broke through in the 1980s. Yes, once the first wave of music video superstars crested in the mid-’80s, pop radio devolved again into a wasteland of edgeless trifle. But cool stuff did still bubble through. In fact, by decade’s end, even some of the weirdest and wildest underground acts around had managed to forge their way into the mainstream consciousness; bringing me to the next impactful album in my queue – Red Hot Chili Peppers‘ breakthrough 1989 LP, Mother’s Milk.
Released roughly 1/4 the way through their journey (so far), Mother’s Milk may just be the most important record in Red Hot Chili Peppers’ catalog. Granted, their next LP – 1991’s Blood Sugar Sex Magik – rightfully made them superstars. It was a funk-metal masterpiece; one of my favorite records of all time; undeniably brilliant. But hear me out. Mother’s Milk is a gloriously invigorated heavymightynaughtyspazzy collection of funkaedelicjazzyrapmetalsoulpunk certainly unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It stands on its own merits as a key precursor of the ’90s alt rock explosion. Most vital, however…born from the most trying of circumstances, the album rescued a teetering RHCP from almost certain oblivion…
IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES; IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES
Like flawed protagonists from epic literary tradition, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ long ascent from cult fixtures of the ’80s SoCal skate punk club circuit to darlings of the ’90s alt rock scene to, finally, rock institution is not for the feint of heart; a tale full of hopeful beginnings, soul-breaking tragedies, and redemptive victories. Stick with me while I illustrate the hellish crucible the band survived to make Mother’s Milk.
In 1987, the Uplift Mofo Party Plan LP triumphantly united all four founding members for the first time on record. Their name was rising; more infamous than famous at this point, perhaps, due to their stage antics, but rising. Nine months later, in the summer of ’88, RHCP was gutted by the sudden death-by-heroin-overdose of guitarist Hillel Slovak and subsequent exit of bereaved drummer Jack Irons. The future looked bleak. But the grief stricken remnant Chili’s – rapper/vocalist/post-modern poet Anthony Kiedis (himself, caught in the throes of heroin addiction) and hyperkinetic master of the poppin’slappin’funkyass bass, Flea (Michael Balzary) – braved on.
With little time and many obligations to meet, numerous would-be replacements received trials by fire on the tour. Many names passed through – D.H. Peligro (Dead Kennedys) and DeWayne McKnight (Parliament), most notably. Ultimately, the spots went to 18-year old L.A. native guitar demigod John Frusciante and prodigious punisher of the skins Chad Smith – thus establishing the most highly esteemed, if inconstant, of all Red Hot Chili Peppers lineups to date.
SET IT STRAIGHT
Truthfully, before Mother’s Milk, I didn’t even know Red Hot Chili Peppers were a real band! Too untamed and difficult to categorize, their record label didn’t know how to sell them. Mainstream radio wouldn’t touch them. No one I knew listened to them. So, my only prior reference point was their brief, anarchic cameo in the 1986 Kirk Douglas/Burt Lancaster caper comedy Tough Guys. But, boy, did those ninety-plus seconds leave an impression. Half-naked, slathered in paint, adorned in DIY faux-glam costuming, and bouncing like pogos, the Chilis just seemed too cartoonishly unhinged and fun to be true! I was intrigued, of course. But, assuming RHCP to be a joke band/plot convenience, I didn’t investigate further. My bad.
NEVERMIND DURAN DURAN
Flash forward: high school senior year; 1989. Change was in the air. Wacked-out on a late-puberty deluge of testosterone, I edged closer to “normal” social functioning than ever before. Oh, I was still an angsty mess. But, thanks to budding friendships, improved grades, and a newfound competitive drive, things were…better. Further, detoxing cold from a serious comic book habit and seeking new hobbies (crutches) to indulge, I turned more intentionally to collecting music.
Of course, I’d already filled a few vinyl-clad cassette cases by this point. U2, INXS, and Rush were probably my favorites. I’d stockpiled some new wave (Cars; Duran Duran; Huey Lewis) and tapes by ’70s AOR survivors (Asia; Yes; ELP). But this is where things really started to get interesting. Thanks to the discovery of harder-edged rock bands (GNR; Living Colour), classic rock radio, and the conspicuous presence of underground lifers (Cult; R.E.M.; New Order) on mainstream radio, my collection expanded rapidly. And then…
In the fall of ’89, a provocative album sleeve caught my eye at a local cd shop; a high-contrast black and white image composite depicting four young, ragged shirtless fellows nestled into the arms of a beautifully bare Mother Nature. I’d always thought this shop was uncommonly sterile and unhip for an indie – like a Bose store, but they heralded the arrival of this curiosity with a modest display. Scanning the sleeve further, my eyes registered colorful text and graphics in the upper corners. The left-side read “Mother’s Milk“; the right – recognizable as a logo – bore chunky, all-caps, sans-serif text in a circle around a like-styled asterisk shape. “Wait… What…,” I paused… “RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS…? Really???” Requiring no further convincing, I paid for the tape, thanked the clerk, and enthusiastically went on my way.
FACEBOOK MIXTAPE240309 NATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY PLAYLIST
A collection of not-so-randomly selected tunes by female/female-fronted artists originally posted to the Wall of Tunes Facebook group page in honor of National Woman’s Day 2024.
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Blondie – Dreaming
Garbage – Queer
Carole King – I Feel the Earth Move (Official Audio)
The Bangles – In Your Room (Official Video)
Goldfrapp – Ride A White Horse
St. Vincent – Cheerleader
Big Brother & The Holding Company, Janis Joplin – Piece of My Heart (Official Audio)
Judy Collins – Both Sides Now (Official Audio)
Madonna – Ray Of Light (Official Video) [HD]
Girls Aloud – Love Machine (Official Music Video)
Sheryl Crow – A Change Would Do You Good (Official Music Video)
Fleetwood Mac – Gypsy (Official Music Video)
Do You Know the Way to San Jose
Whitney Houston – How Will I Know (Official HD Video)
Mainstream Alternative hits of MTV’s GOLDEN age 1981-91 PLAYLIST
Thanks to MTV, a multitude of off-center acts broke through in the 1980s. Yes, once the first wave of music video superstars crested in the mid-’80s, pop radio devolved again into a wasteland of edgeless trifle. But cool stuff did still bubble through.
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The Police – Don't Stand So Close To Me (Official Music Video)
Blondie – Rapture (Official Music Video)
Devo – Whip It (Official Music Video) | Warner Vault
The Human League – Don't You Want Me (Official Music Video)
The Go-Go's – We Got The Beat
Toni Basil "Hey Mickey" Music Video
Soft Cell Tainted Love (1981)
Peter Gabriel – Shock The Monkey
A Flock Of Seagulls – I Ran (So Far Away) (Video)
Joe Jackson – Steppin' Out
The Motels – Only The Lonely
Tom Tom Club – Genius Of Love (Official Music Video) [4K]
Stray Cats – Rock This Town (Official Music Video)
Canadian prog institution Rush are part of the triad of most highly exalted personal favorite rock acts (along with XTC and Red Hot Chili Peppers) that largely dominated my listening habits for the past thirty-five years. But, in tune with their reputation as an “acquired taste,” my fandom didn’t come instantly. Rather, it simmered slowly throughout the ’80s; finally coming to a frothy head in ’89 with A Show of Hands.
SET THE WHEELS IN MOTION
As I’ve said before, no one had a greater influence on my early music preferences than my older brother. Sure, we diverged somewhat when the stars of music video breached my consciousness c. ’82-’83, but our tastes still intersected more often than not.
His music was cool. He dabbled in quirky new wave stuff where melodicism balanced perceived weirdness (the Cars; Flock of Seagulls; the Fixx). Most importantly, he introduced me to some of the biggest prog/prog adjacent bands of the mid-late ’70s and early ’80s. Some of his favorites – Boston, ELO, Asia, ELP, and Yes – struck me pretty quickly. Rush, however, required more time to sink-in. I guess that Geddy Lee’s signature whale-pitch and Neil Peart’s contemplative, erudite lyrics combined with the group’s elaborate, sophisticated song structures were just too far ahead of me at the time. And the ’80s were supposed to be their most commercially accessible period (ha!).
ALL THIS COOL MACHINERY PLAYING MODERN MUSIC
Anyway, Rush records started filtering into the house in the early ’80s after my brother bought his Akai stereo* system. I think he started with the Permanent Waves or Moving Picturesand then steadily worked his way backward through their catalog until he’d caught up.
Late Saturday nights, he caught glimpses of the famed power-trio on The Beat. Hosted for our local PBS affiliate by DJ “Doc” Doug Podell and simulcast over WLLZ 98.7 FM (“Detroit’s Wheels”), the rock-focused music video show unfortunetely aired later than my “official” bedtime for most of the ’80s. But I found ways to partake of all the heavy rock awesomeness. I fit in strategic bathroom visits here and last-minute cups of water there. Maybe I accidentally forgot to pick-up a stray Ewok from the living room earlier that night… Either way, I distinctly remember wondering why the cheery kid was riding a nuclear missile in Rush’s “Distant Early Warning” clip. Yeah, I was getting curious, but I still didn’t fully understand the appeal yet.
* The coolest thing I’d ever seen up to that point, btw.
IF YOU PICK UP THE BEAT
But then Les brought home the VHS and cd editions of A SHOW OF HANDS. After a month or so of repeat viewings, Rush just…clicked! Like my brother, I couldn’t get enough. It’s impossible to say how many times we watched the video together. It’s just amazing that it didn’t fall apart.
By this time, I was singing along and vocalizing to Lee’s and Alex Lifeson’s dizzyingly diverse arsenal of bass/guitar licks. The true sign I’d been hooked, however, came when I started half-assed tracking Peart’s painstakingly arranged drum parts. My list of drum heroes would fill two pages, double-sided, but, seriously… From that point forward, he was the one; my personal messiah of all things percussion. What a scene it must have been – the sight and sound of drum-nerd brothers lap-tapping in tandem to the condensed Rush catalog. It’s almost as sweet as it is dorky (…almost). But that’s us (shrug).
IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO DECIDE YOU STILL HAVE MADE A SOUND CHOICE
A Show of Hands was the third of four live Rush albums to follow a cycle of four consecutive studio efforts and officially mark the end of a distinct phase of their career; the second to be issued with a companion video. Interestingly, like their previous tandem live release – Exit…Stage Left – each version of A Show of Hands serves a different purpose. Where the LP pieces together highlights from the previous two tours to (mostly) present an overview of the band’s output during that specific period, the video documents a specific date from their ’87-’88 Hold Your Fire tour and (mostly) captures the excitement of an actual Rush concert performance.
Now, one might think that continuity of experience between the distinct editions of A Show of Hands would be middling, but I don’t find that to be the case. The track listings are comparable enough. Further, the songs featured on both editions are virtually identical. Most importantly, the uniformly warm, dynamic, and tonally rich sound mixes arguably present “definitive” recordings of all Rush compositions presented. So the band overdubbed their parts to correct imperfections in the original recordings. Who cares. So what if the video omitted “Subdivisions,” “Time Stand Still,” “Mystic Rhthyms,” and “Distant Early Warning” and the record dropped “YYZ,””The Spirit of Radio,” “Tom Sawyer,” and the grand medley “2112 Overture”/”The Temples of Syrinx”/”La VIlla Strangiato”/”In the Mood.” It is kind of odd that the record dropped “Prime Mover” given how the lyric provided the album title, but I’m quibbling. In the end, the collective songs have rarely sounded better.
CLOSER TO THE HEART
I’ve taken a lot of ribbing for being a Rush fan over the years – particularly from females and “serious” music snobs. Whatever. Rush made my world bigger. If Asia, Yes’ 90125, Emerson, Lake, & Powell, and Star Wars (props to John Williams) were my initial pathways to appreciating complex forms, A Show of Hands blew out the conduit. Thanks to Dirk, Lerxst, and Pratt (AKA Geddy, Alex, and “Professor” Peart), I can listen to classical, jazz, and other challenging forms, separate the parts, and follow what’s going on despite my lack of formal music theory training. Pretty cool.
Even now, eight years after their last tour and three years after dread cancer claimed Neil Peart, Rush still inspires me. With their wise words and music, they taught me to think and listen intentionally. Their success reminded me that, although nothing’s guaranteed, good things can come to those who work hard, keep perspective, and never give up on living their passions. Life is a marathon. Roll the bones. Peart’s playing was a prime mover behind the decision to finally buy my own drum kit (I’m just forcing-in the Rush puns, aren’t I). Just over two years ago, I started this blog to develop my writing and prompt creation of new art. Maybe I’ll never be more than a blunt instrument, but that’s not the point. Win or lose, whatever the obstacles, regardless of pace, it’s important to keep learning and growing. Keep piling on those little victories. Anything can happen.
No artist/group has had a more profound long-term influence on my musical sensibilities than the Beatles. There’s also no denying my attraction to acts that share musical DNA with and/or owe debts to the “Fab Four.” But what album had the biggest impact? That’s a tough pick. No single, specific Beatles album stands alone as my favorite-ist favorite. But, all things considered, Rubber Soul probably played a bigger role than any other LP in hooking me on British rock for life.
Rediscovering Rubber Soul
Until recent years, I’d always assumed that my childhood indoctrination to the Beatles was limited to old 45s, Detroit rock oldies radio, and the ’60s cartoon; not the proper albums. In my late-teens, I acquired Sgt. Peppers; then, in my early-20s, added Magical Mystery Tour, Revolver, and Rubber Soul. But these albums received little play because my listening queue was overcrowded with other, more (relatively) recent music. Then I got older. Over the last fifteen years or so, growing feelings of alienation toward contemporary pop and rock forms prompted me to gradually shift focus back to the music I heard as a child; intentionally filling gaps in my collection with music from the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s. Naturally, I started with the Beatles 2009 remastered stereo U.K. cd set.
All the Beatles studio albums (and the included Past Mastersnon-album single collections) re-ignited warm fuzzy feelings from childhood, but one disc stood apart; inducing a heightened, disorienting state of deja vu. I didn’t just know every word and note from every song on Rubber Soul by heart. I knew the play order, as well. That kind of imprint only comes with strict repetition. Somehow, I heard this album many, many times as a young child. It had to have been among the records my eldest siblings regularly borrowed from Nana and Pap Pap’s.
Why Rubber Soul is Special
The Beatles’ knack for writing genuine pop hooks and melodies was present from the beginning and they experienced exponential growth as songwriters, players, singers, and arrangers with each successive album. Nevertheless, their sixth LP, Rubber Soul, represented a bold step forward for the group.
First, the record ended their practice of padding track listings with obligatory, albeit enjoyable, American r&b, rock, and pop covers. Thus, all fourteen of the golden slabs featured are original compositions credited to John Lennon/Paul McCartney and George Harrison. Second, while early Beatles albums generally played like random collections of singles, the track listing on Rubber Soul sounds intentional. The record takes the listener on a genuine journey. Each song flows naturally into the next; each song provides a complimentary musical counter-point to those around it.
Starting a psychedelic journey
Also, while each of their albums were adventurous in their way, Rubber Soul clearly points toward the psychedelic revolution that soon followed. True, nothing here plays as dramatically trippy as “Tomorrow Never Knows” from its follow-up, Revolver, but the journey begins here.
Rubber Soul’s masterfully crafted, acid-tinged album cover provides the first hints that the Beatles had entered their psychedelic phase. The downright groovy, muted orange, curvilinear, hand-drawn title design in the upper-left corner contrasts strongly with the conventional blocky fonts used on all their prior U.K. releases. Also, the slanted camera attitude of the cover photo presents a less straight-forward image of the group. Accentuating the feeling that the boys had, perhaps, ascended to another level of consciousness, the subtly distorted photo is shot from below eye-level and treated with a green filter. Additionally, the image they project is less buttoned-up than in the past. Their trademark mop-tops are noticeably longer; matching suits and ties traded for unmatched, informal brown and black jackets and turtlenecks.
Musically, signs of their growing psych-leanings are evident in the deep-grooves on the riffing lead track “Drive My Car” and the driving proto-hippie anthem “The Word.” But that’s not all! Dig the formidably fuzzy guitar licks on “Think For Yourself.” Sit anywhere and ponder the gentle acoustic ballad “Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)” as it mixes free-spirited beatnik imagery with exotic east-Indian instrumentation. Was this the first appearance of a sitar on a Beatles album? I think it was!
WHat else goes on
Let’s see… What other developments are going on here…? The melancholy moods that seasoned the group’s musical stew since Beatles For Sale continue on “Nowhere Man” and “Girl.” Harrison’s chiming 12-string folk rocker “If I Needed Someone” would’ve sounded right at home on the Byrds Mr. Tambourine Man (that’s a compliment, btw). The Beatles also wonderfully continue their tradition of heartfelt, reflective love songs with “In My Life” and “Michelle.”
Lastly, Rubber Soul showcases the Beatles’ talent for disguising dark/difficult lyrical themes in catchy sing-along tunes. I find this particularly interesting because the trait is unusually common among my favorite songwriters (Andy Partridge/Colin Moulding; Elvis Costello; James Mercer). Each case is one of a relationship that’s gone awry. On “I’m Looking Through You,” Macca sings of disillusionment with a “girl” he no longer holds up on a pedestal. “You Won’t See Me” has him describing the pain of having been cut-off completely. Ringo Starr laments his “girl’s” unfaithfulness on the country number “What Goes On.” Predicting the band’s impending retirement from live performance, Lennon’s anxious vocal on “Wait” has him returning to a partner/lover after a long time away, seemingly unsure of what will greet him when he gets there.
Twisting the tone from anxious to outright menacing, the lyric for the memorable album closer “Run For Your Life” portrays Lennon as an unhinged abuser who’d rather see his “little girl” dead “than to be with another man.” That’s about as dark as it gets folks, but I dare you to not sing along. Like everything else here, it’s an absolute earworm.
Greetings all! Last time out, I presented a brief early history of rock music and name-dropped mountains of great tunes while unpacking cherished childhood memories of Detroit rock oldies radio. Good times. Today, I’ll explore how the rock and roll revival that spawned rock oldies radio came to pass and further illustrate how first generation rockers influenced media, culture, and yours truly in the 1970s. Let’s dig in…
BUT I DON’T WANT TO WEAR A PUFFY SHIRT
Rock music progressed at an epic pace between 1954 and 1970; evolving rapidly from fun, unpretentious amalgams of r&b and folk forms into the sophisticated, often trippy musical expansions of the psychedelic era. With this in mind, not everyone was on-board to “face the strange.” The dark, psych-folk of David Bowie; the dazed and confused proto-metal blues of Led Zeppelin; the unsettling sonic dissonance of The Stooges; the pretentious baroque pop of The Moody Blues; the warped, progressive psych pop of Pink Floyd… They were, without a doubt, all too much for folks who viewed such sweeping departures as disingenuous betrayals of the original rock aesthetic. Something had to give.
So, in the late ’60s, two parallel movements consequently bubbled up to bring rock back to center: roots rock and – the topic for the day – the great rock and roll revival.
(Imagined thought bubble belonging to the average early rock “purist” c. 1968: “Where’s the rebellion? Where’s the excitement? Where are the screaming girls? …Is that guy playing a flute? What the hell is a theremin??!!!”)
THE REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING WILL RETURN IN A MOMENT, BUT FIRST…
My earlier suggestion that the rock and roll revival was merely a response to high psychedelia was misleading. In truth, the invariably cyclical nature of music trends is what ultimately made it happen. Humans are wont to grow nostalgic in response to change – any change. Yes, niches of the fanbase were definitely alienated by six-plus years of mods, nehru jackets, exotic sonic affectations, and concept albums, but that wasn’t the whole story. The revival probably had as much or more to do with the sociopolitical turmoil that gripped the U. S. in the 1960s than anything else.
The civil rights movement; the Cold War and the Space Race; the Cuban Missile Crisis/Bay of Pigs Invasion; the MLK and JFK assassinations; Viet Nam… The U.S. had been involved in continuous, overlapping conflicts since the Korean War and it had taken a serious toll. The collective spirit of the people was accordingly broken by the weight of troubled times. No wonder they were pining hard for the glory days of sock hops, poodle skirts, hot rods, and greased-back pompadours.
Aaaaaaaand we’re on again in 5, 4, 3…
RETURN OF THE KINGS
Starting c. 1968, the rock and roll revival represented a reversal of fortune for first gen acts who lost their audience in Beatlemania‘s wake. Born in ’72, I was late to the revival party, but its impact was hard to miss. The evidence was everywhere. Rock oldies radio did much to bring Gen X-ers such as myself up up to speed, but it was the continued presence and obvious influence of rock’s elder states(persons) that made the biggest difference. Here are but a few prominent high-profile comeback stories…
GENRE
ARTIST
YEAR
COMEBACK SINGLE
pos*
R&B
FATS DOMINO
1968
“LADY MADONNA”
#100
COUNTRY
JERRY LEE LEWIS
1968
“ANOTHER PLACE, ANOTHER TIME”
#1 COUNTRY
FOLK ROCK
DION
1968
“ABRAHAM, MARTIN, AND JOHN”
#4
ROCK
ELVIS
1969
“SUSPICIOUS MINDS”
#1
R&B
LITTLE RICHARD
1970
“FREEDOM BLUES”
#47
rOCK
CHUCK BERRY
1970
“MY DING-A-LING”
#1
COUNTRY ROCK
RICK NELSON
1972
“GARDEN PARTY”
#6
ROCK
BILL HALEY & THE COMETS
1974
“ROCK AROUND THE CLOCK” (RE-RELEASE)
#39
SOFT ROCK
PAUL ANKA
1974
“(YOU’RE) HAVING MY BABY”
#1
SOFT ROCK
FRANKIE VALLI
1974
“MY EYES ADORED YOU”
#1
SOFT ROCK
NEIL SEDAKA
1974
“LAUGHTER IN THE RAIN”
#1
SOUL/DISCO
THE MIRACLES
1975
“LOVE MACHINE”
#1
ROCK
CLIFF RICHARD
1976
“DEVIL WOMAN”
#6
COUNTRY ROCK
ROY ORBISON
1980
“THAT LOVIN’ YOU FEELING AGAIN” (WITH EMMYLOU HARRIS)
#6 COUNTRY
ROCK
DEL SHANNON
1981
“SEA OF LOVE”
#33
ROCK
THE EVERLY BROTHERS
1984
“ON THE WINGS OF A NIGHTINGALE”
#50
chart of prominent Rock and roll revival comeback stories * PEAK U.S. CHART POSITION according to billboard
YOU NEVER CAN TELL
Chuck Berry‘s popularity didn’t crater immediately when the British Invasion displaced most of his immediate peers. Rather, it was buoyed, if temporarily, by the reverence of artists (The Beatles; Rolling Stones) who frequently covered his work. Even after the hits stopped in ’65, his name still sold tickets – a point not lost on the concert promoters who ultimately sparked the revival.
In 1969, Berry co-headlined the first ever “Rock and Roll Revival” concerts at New York’s Madison Square Garden, commencing what became a long, successful run on the burgeoning rock oldies circuit. In the end, it didn’t really matter that Chuck Berry only charted thrice after ’64 because showmanship and a back catalog of timeless tunes ensured that no one would ever forget the “Father of Rock and Roll.”
VIVA LAS ELVIS
Distracted by movie work for several of the immediately preceding years, Elvis Presley resumed his reign as “King of Rock and Roll” with a massively successful 1968 TV concert special. Lucrative tours followed (Las Vegas residency) soon after, as did renewed chart success (“Suspicious Minds”). But the comeback wouldn’t endure; Elvis died from a fatal prescription drug overdose in 1977. He was only 42.
Having no reliable recollection of the living “King,” I can’t claim to have been profoundly affected when he died. I was only 5, myself. In retrospect, any regrets I have on the subject have less to do with “what could’ve been” than how he’s remembered today – not for his talents, but for myriad unfortunate late-career fashion choices. After all Elvis contributed in his lifetime, that’s what people hold on to? Really?? Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer to remember him as he was at the onset of his celebrity: a young, vibrant, tastefully dressed and tressed rockabilly cut-off at the waist by insecure TV producers (ha).
Stay tuned… I’ll be pulling more at this thread later.
FATS IS (KINDA) BACK
Fats Domino’s 1968 comeback LP, Fats Is Back, didn’t exactly restore the “Real King” to his former glories as intended. Domino did the requisite promotional rounds to support the record, but it still “bombed” (industry code for “it sold ok, but not as much as we wanted”). Were lukewarm reviews to blame for the album’s failure? Meh, it didn’t help, but I just think record buyers had moved on. Uninspiring sales notwithstanding, the hoopla surrounding the new album raised public interest enough to net TV appearances and buttress Domino’s status as a live attraction throughout the rock and roll revival and beyond.
RE-BIRTH OF THE BOOGIE
Few founders took the debilitating loss of audience at home, post-British Invasion, harder than bandleader Bill Haley. Trapped overseas by the mid-’60s, playing to audiences a fraction the size of those he once commanded, alcoholism and money troubles were ruining him… And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Haley’s appearances at the first rock and roll revival shows at the ‘Garden in ’69 turned things around. The Comets were, once again, a prime live attraction domestically thanks to the rock oldies circuit.
Then, a few years later, c. 1973-’74, royalties generated from songs licensed for American Graffiti and Happy Days further bolstered the group’s profile by exposing them to younger audiences. Sadly, Haley’s return to glory was cut short after less than a decade; he died tragically from an inoperable brain tumor in February of 1981.
WOULD YOU TAKE ANOTHER CHANCE ON ME?
Jerry Lee Lewis was all but finished after 1958 once news of his marriage to 13-year old (!!!) cousin Myrna became common knowledge. Rock radio largely abandoned him and the primo venues stopped booking him. A few scattered singles sold modestly over the next few years, but nothing too exciting. The stigma of scandal cast a long shadow. For roughly ten years he scuffled, vainly working to find angles back into the public’s good graces until BAM! Something finally worked…
In 1968, Lewis successfully crossed-over to country with the honky tonk-styled ballad “Another Place, Another Time.” Having re-established himself, further dalliances with country audiences soon followed, of course, including more hit singles (“There Must Be More To Love Than This“), and full-lengths (1970’s Old Tyme Country Music). Without delay, American TV warmed again, leading to frequent guest turns on variety programs ranging from The Mike Douglas Show to Hee-Haw.
The highlight of this period, however, has to have been Lewis’ legendary 1973 performance at the Grand Ol’ Opry. Still carrying a grudge against the Nashville establishment that dated back to his first failed efforts to succeed as an aspiring performer, the “Killer” defiantly thumbed his nose at Opry convention; banging-out a 40-minute set that balanced mid-tempo country numbers with heavy doses of rip-snorting rock. Suffice to say, he was banned for life. Good for him!
ENTER THE QUEEN
Little Richard left secular music in 1959 to pursue Christian ministry/gospel performance only to be lured back to rock three years later by concert promoters who recognized his unwavering potency onstage. For good or bad, a lot had changed in the music markets while he was away. Piano rockers went out of vogue and Motown, Tamla, Atlantic, and Stax had emerged as the top labels in r&b. By Richard’s account, all the labels feared his style was too wild for modern (conservative) audiences and tensions arose due to perceived pressure to re-brand as a more conventional soul singer.
Always one to follow his own rebellious muse, Richard tried a new tactic – rather than tone things down, he turned them up to 11! So, starting with his 1969 Las Vegas residency, he enveloped himself in ever more outrageous, often glittery costuming and adopted an overtly “out” stage persona. The move was notable on many fronts… First, as a predictor of glam, he established both the outlandish visual vocabulary for the genre and its ties to vintage rock and roll. Secondly, Richard’s amped-up androgyny added to his sexually charged mythos, earning him the nickname “The Queen of Rock and Roll.” Most importantly, although his hit making days were pretty much over, Little Richard’s sheer entertainment value made him an enduring character in pop culture; ensuring continued demand as a guest performer/interview subject for the remainder of his days.
UNDER THE INFLUENCE
As is customary with successive generations, regardless of context, contemporary artists across all genres paid homage to their predecessors during the rock and roll revival…
SONG
VERSION COVERED
YEAR
COVER ARTIST
YEAR
“Summertime Blues”
EDDIE COCHRAN
1958
THE WHO
1970
“I Hear You Knocking”
SMILEY LEWIS
1955
Dave Edmunds
1970
“Hot Rod Lincoln”
CHARLIE RYAN & The livingston brothers
1955
COMMANDER CODY & his lost planet airmen
1971
“Hello Mary Lou”
RICKY NELSON
1961
CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL
1972
“Rockin’ Robin”
BOBBY DAY
1958
MICHAEL JACKSON
1972
“Rockin’ pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu”
Huey “Piano” Smith & His Clowns
1957
Johnny Rivers
1972
“Let the Good Times Roll/ Feel So Fine”
SHIRLEY & LEE
1956
SLADE
1972
“Roll Over Beethoven”
CHUCK BERRY
1956
ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA
1973
“You’re Sixteen”
JOHNNY BURNETTE
1960
RINGO STARR
1973
“PLEASE MR. POSTMAN”
THE MARVELETTES
1961
THE CARPENTERS
1974
“The Loco-motion”
LITTLE EVA
1962
GRAND FUNK RAILROAD
1974
“Love Hurts”
THE EVERLY BROTHERS
1960
NAZARETH
1974
“You’re No Good”
Dee Dee Warwick
1963
Linda Ronstadt
1974
“Stand By Me”
Ben E. King
1961
John Lennon
1975
“Let It Rock”
CHUCK BERRY
1959
BOB SEGER
1976
“Denis”
Randy & The Rainbows
1963
Blondie
1977
“stay”
Maurice williams & the zodiacs
1960
jackson browne
1977
“Da Doo Ron Ron”
THE CRYSTALS
1963
SHAUN CASSIDY
1977
“Do You Wanna Dance”
Bobby Freeman
1958
Ramones
1977
“Who Do You Love”
BO DIDDLEY
1956
GEORGE THOROGOOD & THE DESTROYERS
1978
“Shout”
THE ISLEY BROTHERS
1959
OTIS DAY & THE NIGHTS
1978
“Money (That’s What I Want)”
BARRETT STRONG
1959
THE FLYING LIZARDS
1979
“AIN’T THAT A SHAME”
FATS DOMINO
1955
CHEAP TRICK
1979
“I FOUGHT THE LAW”
THE CRICKETS
1955
THE CLASH
1980
chart of vintage rock songs covered by contemporary artists during the rock and roll revival
Although best known for edgeless, saccharine confections, The Carpenters often revealed a fondness for ’60s folk and rock by way of recordings of Tim Hardin, Beatles, and Neil Young compositions. Likewise, they demonstrated a nostalgic bent for classic brill building pop through the songs of Bacharach/David, and Nichols/Williams. On their 1973 album Now & Then, the Carpenter siblings reconciled these influences on the side-long song suite “Yesterday Once More.” Seamlessly arranged so as to emulate the “boss radio” experience, the sentimental track centered around a medley of early ’60s American pop-rock songs, covering surf (“Fun Fun Fun“), country (“The End of the World“), r&b (“Our Day Will Come“), girl groups (“One Fine Day“), and more.
JOHN LENNON
Ironically, John Lennon proved, perhaps, to have a greater penchant for nostalgia than fellow Beatle alum Paul McCartney. Caught more than a few times while needling his former writing partner for indulging in “granny” songs, Lennon devoted the entirety of 1975’s Rock ‘n’ Roll to vintage American rock and soul covers. The album’s birth was messy and it was a modest success by Beatles standards, but its punchy interpretation of Ben E. King‘s “Stand By Me” was a highlight. Five years later, Lennon’s ’50s rock inspired comeback hit “(Just Like) Starting Over” – released a mere 6 weeks before his December 1980 assassination – returned him to #1. A bittersweet victory, to be certain.
The New York punk ensemble Ramones‘ visual aesthetic – long mod bowl cuts, black leather jackets, t-shirts, hard-worn blue jeans, and tennis shoes – perfectly approximated their sound. Specializing in pure, loud, unschooled vintage rock played faster, they efficiently (if not always expertly) plowed through set lists while reflecting the influence of instrumental guitar rock, garage, surf, r&b, girl groups, and teen idol balladeers. Further, the Ramones habitually covered their antecedents; sprinkling shambling renditions of classics like Bobby Freeman‘s “Do You Wanna Dance,” The Rivieras‘ “California Sun,” and The Ronettes‘ “Baby I Love You” throughout their discography. Further still, the legendarily infamous “Wall of Sound” mastermind Phil Spector even produced their 1980 LP End of the Century.
IMITATION IS THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY
As I’ve already indicated, covers weren’t the only means through which contemporary artists channelled their influences during the rock and roll revival. For many, tributes were offered in the form of fresh tunes written in the styles of their musical forbears.
genre
ARTIST
Song
YEAR
rock
The Beatles
“Back in the u.s.s.r.”
1968
art rock
the mothers of invention
“Cheap thrills”
1968
Rock
Creedence clearwater revival
“Travelin’ band”
1970
Glam Rock
slade
“Get Down And get with it”
1971
Glam Rock
T. Rex
“bang a gong (get it on)”
1971
Glam Rock
David Bowie
“Suffragette City”
1972
Rock
The Move
“California Man”
1972
Glam rock
Gary Glitter
“I’m the leader of the pack (I Am)”
1973
Glam Rock
Elton John
“Saturday Night’s ALright For Fighting”
1973
Rock
Wizzard
“Eddy’s Rock”
1974
pop rock
Billy Joel
“Say goodbye to hollywood”
1976
punk
Ramones
“I Wanna be your boyfriend”
1976
New wave
Elvis Costello
“No Dancing”
1977
rock
Electric Light orchestra
“Rockaria”
1977
new wave
The Cars
“my best friend’s girl”
1978
new wave
The B-52s
“Rock Lobster”
1979
post-punk
The Cramps
“Garbageman”
1979
rock
John Lennon
“(Just LIke) Starting Over”
1980
rock
Queen
“Crazy Little Thing Called Love”
1980
new wave
Stray Cats
“Stray Cat Strut”
1982
chart of Contemporary artists who demonstrated the influence of early rock styles during the rock and roll revival
SAY GOODBYE TO PSYCHEDELIA
The Beatles signaled their estrangement from psychedelia in 1968; aligning themselves with the rock and roll revival on “Back in the U.S.S.R.” – a straight rocker that mashed Chuck Berry‘s signature boogie together with the Beach Boys‘ doo wop inspired surf gems. Later in that same year, Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention issued their satirical full-length nod to 1950s rock tropes, Cruising with Ruben & the Jets.
Progressing into the following decades, piano man Billy Joel’s love of early rock styles – evident in ’70s hits like “Say Goodbye to Hollywood” and “Only the Good Die Young” – culminated on the 1983 song cycle An Innocent Man. Tangentially, while transitioning into the ’80s, the ever versatile arena rockers Queen introduced rockabilly into their already diverse mix; toning down Brian May’s signature guitar harmonizers for the tracks “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “Man On the Prowl.”
THE OGS (ORIGINAL GLITTERATI)
Linked together by a campy, cheeky, hyper-exaggerated theatricality, no artists, however, wore the influence of vintage rock during the rock and roll revival more transparently than 1970s British glamacts…
Marc Bolan’s T. Rex recorded four psychedelic folk albums as Tyrannosaurus Rex before he rebranded himself as a full-on rock god in 1970. Trading hippie beads for glammy boas and acoustic guitars for electric, the act soon specialized in chugging, Bo Diddley-esque boogies; most often reinforced in memory by the classic rock radio staple “Bang a Gong [Get It On].”
After suffering numerous false-starts, disgraced glam godfather Gary Glitter finally achieved success in the early ’70s via winking, imbecilic anthems that combined chunky old time riffs and rhythms with lurid, hyper-stylized faux-greaser imagery.
Basically ignored in the U.S. until Quiet Riot’s metal cover of “Cum On Feel the Noise” hit big in 1983, Slade‘s amplified and anthemic power pop sheered classic r&b down to it’s bare bones with ear-splitting sonic bombast.
In contrast, Stray Cats mostly bypassed the high kitsch and camp of their aforementioned peers and resolutely devoted themselves to playing straight-up, old-fashioned rockabilly; while the Cars beguiled rock radio with their deft fusion of guitar-driven rock and roll and synth-laden new wave.
At the start of his recording career, having adopted an image that copped significantly from Buddy Holly and a stage name he audaciously usurped from the the “King,” everything about iconic singer-songwriter Elvis Costello shouted “retro-cool.” Correspondingly, his stunning debut My Aim Is True plays like something out of its time. Lacking, for the most part, the coked-up pacing of his first record with the Attractions, Costello’s songs – charmingly produced by Stiff label mate Nick Lowe – uniformly present like pastiches to vintage rock, r&b, and soul. A classic.
DO YA (WANT MY ROCK AND ROLL)
Few performers more frequently mined the founders for inspiration during the rock and roll revival than Brits Roy Wood and Jeff Lynne; who, with drummer Bev Bevan, recorded briefly as both the final configuration of British psychedelic power-pop band The Moveand the inaugural iteration of symphonic pop-rock act Electric Light Orchestra…
1966-72 OVERTURE
Although virtually unknown in the U.S., The Move was a fairly successful singles act in the U.K. from 1966-’72. Founded as a quintet, the band was already pared down to a trio in 1970 when leader Roy Wood’s drive to push toward heavy prog cost them lead vocalist Carl Wayne. In short order, singer-guitarist-songwriter Jeff Lynne (Idle Race) stepped-in to fill the void .
With Lynne on-board, the act had too many ideas to shoehorn into The Move. Hence Electric Light Orchestra was conceived as a side-vehicle for their more ambitious orchestral-rock compositions. Issued on the heels of the first ELO LP, The Move’s last British. single – 1972’s “California Man” – was an unabashed, swinging tribute to ’50s rock and roll; complete with a full brass section, boogie riffs, lively keys, and dueling vocal leads by Lynne and Wood.
LOOKING ON
Shortly after The Move’s dissolution, Roy Wood tired of sharing power in Electric Light Orchestra; exiting mid-way through the sessions for ELO II to form the unpredictable art rock collective Wizzard. Completely free to follow his muse, his recordings from then on were works of pure whimsy that careened wildly between hard rock, orchestral prog, glam, jazz rock, and old time rock and roll (sometimes within the confines of a single song). Following Wood’s obsessions through to their logical next step, Wizzard’s second full-length, 1974’sIntroducing Eddie & The Falcons, was a full-fledged love letter to early rock. Split between glammy interpretations of vintage rock and eerily faithful recordings in the style of Wood’s heroes, the unfairly unsung Eddie stands, in my opinion, as the one of the most committed, if not the greatest, tribute albums of all time.
ROCK ‘N’ ROLL IS KING
Although not as intrusive, Jeff Lynne’s shared yen for vintage rock also came to the fore after Wood’s exit from ELO; becoming almost as key to his songwriting formula as lush productions, sticky hooks, and melodic orchestrations. With “Roll Over Beethoven,” he seeded a tradition of placing at least one ’50s flavored song per record. The track – an ironic mash-up Chuck Berry’s classic and Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony – joyfully collided classical and rock forms in a manner akin to the Move’s “Cherry Blossom Clinic Revisited.” Later exemplars of this ELO custom include “Telephone Line,” “Rockaria,” “Hold On Tight,” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll Is King.”
HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN
As I’ve previously noted,* music licensing did much to boost the profile of early rockers in 1970s America. Yes, movies and TV presented distorted portraits of the “good ol’ days,” but they also introduced new generations to Bill Haley, Fats Domino, Elvis, Buddy Holly, etc., and helped popularize rock oldies radio.
Released thirteen months after I screamed my way out of the womb, American Graffiti’s impact was obviously null. Happy Days (1974 – ’84), on the other hand, was one of the premier pop culture phenomena of my youth. Set in the mid-1950s, episodes initially opened with “Rock Around the Clock” (replaced by the familiar self-titled theme after season one). Otherwise, most of the score was comprised of standard-order sitcom lead-in/lead-out bits, with licensed tunes like “Bye Bye Love,” “I’m Walkin’,” and “All Shook Up” primarily reserved for scenes at Arnold’s Drive-In.
Unfortunately, licensing proved cost prohibitive and, as a result, vanilla in-house re-recordings of popular songs increasingly filled the void. Frequently “performed” onscreen by Arnold’s house band, mildly entertaining musical numbers posed the show’s main protagonists as prospective teen idols; who, resembling the Archies cartoon characters they were patterned after, obviously had no idea how to play the instruments at hand. Now and then, guests like glam rocker Suzi Quatro even dropped-in to play a song or two for the gang. Was the show a trifling imitation of life? Of course! But it still passed along some great old tunes.
* TFY Pts. II & V
Get A Job (As ’70s TV Variety Show Hosts)
Championed by none other than Jimi Hendrix (who they preceded at the 1969 Woodstock festival), no contemporary act capitalized on the Roll and Roll Revival like Sha Na Na. Building a strong reputation as live performers while touring behind some of the biggest names in rock, the group ascended to headline status by the mid-’70s; regularly appearing on TV and in movies, and, at their apex, even snagging their very own nationally syndicated variety program (1977-1981).
Corny, fun, and entertaining for adults and kids, both, I mainly remember watching Sha Na Na on late Saturday afternoons on ABC Detroit 7, typically tucked in sometime after American Bandstand and Wide World of Sports. While smoothing out the edges of their stage show, the program’s opener (The Silhouettes’ “Get a Job”), choreographed musical numbers, and comedy sketches presented band members as lovable street toughs; some adorned in standard greaser attire; others in garish gold lamé jump suits. Each one of the guys had a talent. look, and charm of their own, but the focal point was the group’s cartoonishly animated baritone/emcee, John “Bowser” Bauman.
Sketches varied in duration, with longer bits frequently segueing into performances with guest rock luminaries (Chuck Berry; Lesley Gore; the Ronettes), and, on one rare occasion, the soundstage even hosted the Ramones! Sure, the punk rockers were a little outside the show’s norm, but how cool is that?
Biopics
1978 was a big year for the rock revival… Sha Na Na was going strong. Grease was a box office smash. Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley topped the Nielsens. Given the impact these shows had, I suppose it’s unsurprising that people forgot that ’78 also birthed the rock biopic.
Sure, movies had been making heroes of rock stars (Love Me Tender; A Hard Days Night) for years, but dramatized films about the rock stars themselves were a brand new thing. It was exciting! Remember… ’70s humans weren’t calloused by unrelenting waves of media like people are today. Therefore, features about rock’s earliest, most revered figures qualified as major cultural events. Well, that’s what the advertisements told us to believe, anyway.
Now, before I go any further, let me clarify my feelings on the matter of biopics. Like works of historical fiction, biopics notoriously fudge details in order to present a more watchable (sensationalized) story arc. In best case scenarios, these changes are benign. At their worst, they result in speculative trash that poisons the well of human knowledge. Granted, we’re talking about entertainers here… I know it’s not as important as tracking who-killed-President-“x”-in-location-“z” – but it all counts. Call me crazy, but I just want to know the verifiable facts because, if I have to be an insufferable know-it-all, I’d rather not be this guy…
THE KING AND BUDDY
In a manner not unlike much of the original media of the day, the first round of rock biopics were a terribly uneven lot; undermined by any combination of stagey acting, weak production values, and/or failure to license their subject’s original recordings. That said, 1978’s Buddy Holly Story and 1979’s Elvis are actually still fairly well regarded today.
Full disclosure – I have not seen these films. I’ve always liked both singers and the actors chosen to portray them, but, frankly, just don’t want to be disappointed. First of all, the idea of Busey (Point Break) as Buddy Holly doesn’t compel me. By most accounts, he did a fine job but, but he looked more like INXS’s Kirk Pengilly than Holly. Secondly, a much fun as Kurt Russell (Big Trouble In Little China) is to watch, I’ve little interest in seeing yet another rehash of the last, worst period of the “King’s” storied career. The ridiculously huge helmet hair; flying buttress sideburns; hideous, overstuffed sequined jump suits; wrestling champion-sized belt buckles; the capes; the collars… The poor man was done-up like a bleeding circus clown. Yeah, lots people looked ridiculous in the ’70s, but It’s still a damned tragedy.
No Ringo, no care
And then we have the utterly forgettable made-for-TV biopics Dead Man’s Curve (1978) and Birth of the Beatles (1979). They passed from public consciousness as quickly as they came, so, of course, these were the pair I managed to watch. What can I say? I was, like, what…6?
Contrived by Dick Clark Productions, TheBirth of the Beatles also left few impressions, favorable or otherwise. Focused on the act’s pre-fab four* period – when Pete Best (the film’s tech advisor) and Stuart Sutcliffe played drums and bass – the film failed miserably to live up to the hype. It featured no recognizable names. Counterfeit recordings were used in place of Beatles classics. Already a big Beatles fan, I was, no doubt, turned off by the conspicuous lack of Ringo. Research did turn up one interesting bit of trivia, though… Birth of the Beatles was helmed by Return of the Jedidirector Richard Marquand!
Inspired by the legendary ’50s DJ Alan “Moon Dog” Freed, world-renowned American disc jockey Robert Weston Smith – AKA Wolfman Jack – began to build his profile during the 1960s while broadcasting early era rock and soul from “border blaster” radio stations in northern Mexico. Armed with a distinctive gravelly voice, ebullient personality, colorful catchphrases, and the power to reach far and wide throughout the continental U.S., he became a star. But the Wolfman was just getting started…
In ’72, Wolfman Jack relocated to Los Angeles and, by leveraging the Hollywood machine at his disposal, soon became one of the most recognizable figures in American pop culture… Once in L.A., he started shipping old show tapes to stations all over the U.S. and, in the process, became the first nationally syndicated rock oldies radio program. He was a fixture in radio, TV, and print advertising. He acted in films and television productions; appeared on variety shows and game shows; regularly emceed NBC’sMidnight Special; did voice-over work for cartoons; had a music career. Popular acts like the Guess Who and Todd Rundgren sang tributes in his honor. The Wolfman really was everywhere.
At his zenith, Wolfman Jack’s syndicated radio program aired on over 2,000-plus stations in more than 50 countries. The rock revival might not have fully blossomed without him and, for that, we owe him thanks.
I took some old records off Mom & Dad’s shelf Talked ’bout ’70s disco, sci-fi and my nerdy little self Superheroes, cartoons, and my older bro Now let’s get into rock ‘n’ roll oldies radio*
In TFY Pt. II I spoke of how 1950s nostalgia influenced 1970s culture and how rising creatives at the time channelled romanticized memories of youth into their adult endeavors. Today, I’ll set aside the broader social implications of the revival phenomenon in order to focus on how early experiences with rock oldies radio affected my musical sensibilities going forward.
*Sincerest apologies to Bob Seger (please don’t sue).
Time, RELATIVity, and ROCK OLDIES
I’d understand if anyone coming of age today mistakenly concluded that Bob Seger was being self-referential when he sang about “Old Time Rock and Roll.” The song is almost 43 years old! That’s just craziness! What’s more, Seger’s classic arrived a mere 24 years after the commonly recognized year-zero for rock and roll (1954). That’s hardly “old,” right? Too young to have witnessed rock’s birth, but old enough to remember the rock and roll revival, I can’t deny that these numbers are weighing on me…
In 2021, several of the albums responsible for exploding alternative rock into the pop mainstream turned 30!! How is that even possible? When those records came out I was 19, working two jobs, and fumbling through my first year of college. More surreal still, my favorite “contemporary” artists -the Shins – released their debut 21 years ago!!! What…? Is that right? Sure, I didn’t discover them right away, but it still feels like the album just came out. Does this mean that the song “New Slang” is…classic rock? Am I that old now??? Yes. Yes I am (sigh).
As the decades pile up and lead us ever further away from rock’s beginnings, notions of what qualifies as “classics” and/or “oldies” becomes ever more relative.
Will You Remember Jerry Lee?
Do you “remember when rock was young?” Do you like to swallow bitter pills Well! Try on this mad truth for size… The classic tunes that were initially leveraged to draw the “silent generation” and baby boomers to ’70s rock oldies radio are now in the range of 70 years-old!
It’s crazy, I know, but that’s not all! In time, as those generations thinned, slumping ratings forced programmers to find a new “mature” demographic to exploit: mine. Consequently, as oldies playlists lean ever more on ’70s and ’80s music to hook Gen-Xers, the true rock classics are getting squeezed out. ’60s acts still get some play, but songs that pre-date the British Invasion are rarely heard. At this rate, by the time Gen-Z ages up, all early rockers not named Elvis or the Beatles will have been phased out of public consciousness altogether.
Things change. It happens. But how can it be that “Detroit Rock City” has zero standard radio outlets reserved for rock’s foundational artists? Where are Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and Little Richard? Why do we have to rely on streaming and (gasp!) the purchase of physical media to hear Roy Orbison, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, and the Everly Brothers? It’s absolutely absurd! It’s a travesty! This will not do! Curse the callously calculating winds of commerce! The kids need to know their musical heritage (whether they want to or not).
“Will you remember Jerry Lee, John Lennon, T. Rex and OI Moulty? It’s the end, the end of the 70’s. It’s the end, the end of the century”
Overpowered BY funk (and rockabilly and britpop and…)
Sooooo… Rock and roll and me. Ugggghhhhh, where do I even start? Outlining my indoctrination would be so much easier if I could posit rock as a single, distinct genre rather than a wild convergence of early 20th century (mostly) American music traditions. Here goes nothing.
In the beginning there was only total nothingness… Then, in the late 1940s and ’50s,* pop, blues, jazz, boogie woogie, folk, country, black gospel, etc. all variously merged into one another and split again into the earliest rock forms – r&b, doo wop, rockabilly, girl groups, skiffle, etc., etc. In turn, as ’50s acts infiltrated the pop landscape, mutually influenced each other, and evolved, rock’s next waves brought astounding flurries of development – enter ’60s soul, the British Invasion, surf, folk rock, funk, psychedelic, prog, etc., etc., etc., etc
Was I preternaturally possessed or did I come by my affinity for pop media due to constant reenforcement? A little of both would be my guess. Either way, because 1970s media streams kept all twentieth century entertainment streams alive, I was exposed to all of these forms as a young boy. With innocent ears both awed and overpowered, I sat passively in place and soaked it all in.
* Ok, so I skipped ahead a little…
Reconstructing ’70s ROck OLDIES Radio
Prior to the rise of album-oriented rock radio in the late-1960s, stereo sound was something of a novelty. In fact, with the exception of classical works, most albums were only pressed for mono (single-speaker output). Many common consumer radios weren’t even equipped to receive an FM signal. Therefore, before 1960, the AM dial was the go-to place to hear the biggest hits of “today and yesterday.”
I was still in diapers when rock oldies radio hit Detroit in 1974, so my memories are understandably sketchy. To that point, I offer many thanks to older family members, friends, and my favorite rabbit hole of information – the internet. My attempts to reconstruct the ’70s southeastern Michigan radio scene would have been impossible without them.
Honey (Radio) That’s What I Want
“All Oldies” Honey Radio WHND AM 560 was established in 1974, was simulcast on FM 94.7 until ’76, and went off the air in ’94. Beyond these facts and a general consensus that playlists initially culled from the early rock and roll era, c. 1955-’63, that’s about as concrete as my info gets. I’ll have to fill the gaps with my spotty memory and creative use of the all-powerful interweb…
First, regarding Honey Radio’s scope of programming, my memories aren’t matching-up with the online consensus. Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” (1954*) is probably the earliest song I remember hearing on WHND, so the front end of the estimate fits well enough. The back end of that figure, however, is another story…
Ok, maybe Honey Radio didn’t originally play anything cut after 1963, but song selections unquestionably pushed into the mid-late ’60s by the time my brother and I started listening in the mid-late ’70s; “Turn Turn Turn” (’65), “Incense and Peppermints” (’67), “Mrs. Robinson” (’68), “Sugar Sugar” (’69), and “Tears of a Clown” (’70) are all tracks we clearly recall hearing. Corroborating our recollections, I found multiple AM 560 audio captures on YouTube from 1979 that feature tracks that post-date the British Invasion, including at least one song from as late as ’71.
*One of innumerable tunes considered to be the first ‘true’ rock song.
Let’s make a rock oldies mixtape
My brother used to hang out in our room for hours on-end listening to Honey Radio. In those times of solitude, when not meticulously piecing together plastic model kits, he was making mix tapes; captured from an AM-only, hand-held transistor radio to an old-school portable cassette recorder.* 9-years his junior, I was usually off wreaking havoc elsewhere in the house during these periods, but often popped-in for fun garage-flavored novelties (“Surfin’ Bird“; “Wild Thing“), bubblegum confections (“Sugar Shack“), early rockers (“I’m Walkin‘”; “Summertime Blues“), and anything that featured electric organ (“Runaway“; “House of the Rising Sun“; “Light My Fire“; “She’s Not There“). I loved the Beatles, Beach Boys, and Monkees, but hold this thought… I’ll be delving deeply into ’60s rock in a later post.
* A hobby I also adopted as a teen with the acquisition of my first radio/tape deck. (Melodramatic tones) See brother…Youuu made me this wayyyyy (smile).
Do You Remember Rock ‘N’ Roll Oldies Radio? 1954-1962 playlist
Of course, no matter how diverse WHND’s selections were, they couldn’t play everything. A line had to be drawn somewhere. So, venturing a guess, it makes sense that they excluded songs that were too “uncommercial” for the normals. Following through, this is likely why late-’60s artists who would have been deemed too heavy (Led Zeppelin), arty (Velvet Underground), atonal (The Stooges) and/or weird (The Mothers of Invention) were all left to the purview of early AOR FM radio and word-of-mouth. Is this true? All I can confirm is that I personally didn’t hear any of this stuff until high school or later.
Do You Remember Rock ‘N’ Roll Oldies Radio? 1963-1969 playlist
The Big 8
By all accounts, CKLW AM 800 out of Windsor, Canada was one of the premier popular music stations in North American during the late 20th century.
In the late ’60s, AM 800 – already a well-established top-40 station – tried a different approach. Taking the nickname “The Big 8,” CKLW adapted a “Boss Radio“-styled programming scheme whereby an army of tastemaking DJs relentlessly ranted over-top of songs in order to squeeze a maximum number of heavily rotated records and commercial jingles into each hour. I’ve always found the guileless, endless prattling of disc jockeys to be a terrible distraction, but what do I know? The audience loved it (shiver).
Anyway, “The Big 8” nicely compensated for the intrusions by playing a wide variety of hits from the present and not so distant past. Most notably, with consideration for the sizable African-American audiences* within their massive broadcast range, efforts were made to showcase popular r&b/soul/funk/disco. A lot of Detroit stations played Motown, of course, but CKLW helped to bring “black” musics into my sphere. Mom was a fan dating back to her youth in Pennsylvania, you see. So, thanks, in no small part, to her car-radio preferences, I was exposed to “Little” Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, the Supremes, Mary Wells, the Temptations, the Four Tops, and many, many more.
* Windsor is located directly across the Detroit river from Hitsville U.S.A.
Canadian Radio roll Teleology
In the early 1970’s, the Big 8 was reputedly impacted by new Canadian broadcast regulations that mandated 30-50% representation of homegrown talent on national outlets.
Theoretically, this action should have meant serious exposure for important northern talents like Joni Mitchell, the Band, and Leonard Cohen. However, if the lengthy caps available on YouTube are a fair representation of CKLW’s programming, I can’t validate the theory. Volumes of contemporary fare and healthy doses of ’60s rock, r&b, and pop (“Nobody But Me“; “Cool Jerk; “Everyday People“; “Happy Together“) presented as advertised, but Canuck artists were few and far between. Sure, I knew of Anne Murray and Gordon Lightfoot* because they were successful crossover artists in the U.S. But, I wouldn’t grow in familiarity with most others until my late teens and beyond.
* Sounds like a buddy comedy cop movie, eh?
the great voice of the Great Lakes
Recycling a childhood reminiscence shared previously in TFY Pt. I, mornings in my parent’s house were once “defined by the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, industrial size boxes of Cheerios,” and the amiable, comforting tones of “The Voice of Detroit,” J.P. McCarthy on “The Great Voice of the Great Lakes” AM 760 WJR. As such, no conversation about how I came to love music – any music – can be complete without mentioning WJR.
Relating to the subject matter at hand, AM 760 wasn’t a music station per se… Rather, anchored by a deep stable of mild-mannered yet colorful on-air personalities,* it was more a rich stew of news, weather, traffic, sports, public interest segments, regional commentary, conversational interviews with local and national public figures, reflection, listener call-ins, humor, and, yes, music.
Ok, ok. WJR absolutely wasn’t a “hip” station. But their lengthy slate of variety shows did, indeed, occasionally edge into ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s light rock and rock-adjacent MOR territory.
Tell me MOR, Tell me MOR
WJR’s ventures into modern music tended toward the MOR–Brill Building–adult contemporary end of the pop-rock-soul spectrum. However ambivalent my little self was regarding songs heard while bouncing around within earshot of the kitchen radio, warm, if fuzzy, impressions emerge while stripping back forty-plus years of repression…
Maybe I’m being too casually all-inclusive with my definition of “rock oldies” here. Rock forms were so integral to the language of pop music during my childhood it’s all the same to me. Ultimately, the point is, however I fault on precise details, tons of ’50s and ’60s tunes reached my young, impressionable ears via AM radio in the 1970s.
Black and White
In retrospect, what I appreciate best about rock oldies radio in the ’70s is how well all the music fit together despite the radical evolution of rock forms between ’54-’70. Sure, because 1950s nostalgia primarily targeted white audiences (another guess), racial imbalance was inevitable. It was a far cry, however, from the cascade of pasty-complected hard (Boston; Journey; Styx) and soft (Fleetwood Mac; Carpenters; Barry Manilow) corporate acts that dominated AOR and adult contemporary rock radio by the late ’70s. Black acts were represented and their influence was impossible to miss.
Virtually all British Invasion bands reflected the ascendency of rock’s African-American founding fathers and mothers. Some acts (Beatles; Herman’s Hermits; Dave Clark Five) interpreted r&b styles while also exhibiting trace influences of native skiffle music and mainstream pop songwriting tradition. Others (Yardbirds; the Who; Rolling Stones) demonstrated an affinity for heavy blues via hard-hitting, deep grooving “maximum r&b.”
Integrating the oldies
The best example of how “white” and “black” musics intermingled in the ’50s and ’60s may be the preponderance of racially integrated acts that emerged during this period. Anyone not hiding under a rock for the last fifty years surely knows the The Jimi Hendrix Experience. Feel-good soul-meisters Sly and the Family Stone and The Foundations have been permanent residents on oldies radio for years. Blue-eyed soul group Three Dog Night had many hits in the late ’60s and early ’70s. But what about Stax’s grooving de-facto house band Booker T. & the MG’s and Pittsburgh doo wop ensemble The Del Vikings? Do you remember psychedelic garage-folk quintet Love and the innovative jazz-rock fusion group Blood, Sweat & Tears? …The Chambers Brothers? …Paul Butterfield Blues Band?
Still crazy integrated after all these years
Distinguished from all other acts by large, polyethnic lineups, San Francisco rock collective Santana (“Evil Ways”) still embodies the integration concept as thoroughly as I imagine is possible. Founded in the mid-’60s by guitar virtuoso Carlos Santana, the group drew harsh early reviews for their “pretentious” fusions of psychedelic rock, latin forms, blues, and freeform jazz, but nevertheless won over the album rock crowd; quickly eclipsing all shades thrown by the paid cynics with their appearance at Woodstock. Today, all these years later, their widely revered 1969 debut stands as a testament to the great things we can accomplish when the boundaries that compartmentalize music and society are ignored.
Aaaaaaaand I’m back. Picking up with more childhood reminiscences of media and life in the 1970s, today’s edition of The Formative Years concerns the so-called frivolous stuff that mattered most to me in my earliest years: toys, superheroes, and cartoons.
THE DETAILS OF MY LIFE ARE QUITE INCONSEQUENTIAL…
Born into the same vanilla-white porch community that fostered my parents, my early childhood was old-fashioned – even by 1970s standards. Big Sunday dinners with family were a regular occurrence. I rarely met anyone whose overall complexion deviated much from my own. Nor did I attend any manner of pre-school before kindegarten, structured or otherwise. So, for three years, with all my older siblings in school by fall of ’74, I luxuriated as the only “need machine” at home to be tended-to.
Ahhhhh, the salad days were all about balance. On one hand was quality time with Mom – wearing out favored books (Green Eggs and Ham), taking walks through town, berry picking (family dogs in tow), trips to the park, and mid-day naps. But I also had abundant, glorious “me” time. In the cozy, semi-confined toy cubby at the top the basement steps I was a scientist! Twiddling knobs on a massive control panel (letter blocks on a shelf) while observing my monitor (Lite Brite), I invented secret formulas (spent perfume sample flasks) and solved great problems (nope-definitely don’t drink that) . Additionally, profuse periods were allocated to activities that allowed for play and passive audio-visual data overload via TV. As a result, the worst of my damage was usually confined to the living room.
Being a junior member of a large family, my playthings were an innumerable mix of personal toys and hand-me-downs. I remember copious quantities of Fisher Price swag, Legos, and little green army men. The 12” G.I. Joes, Tonka trucks, and Matchbox cars were were cool. Book and record sets were fun. And, of course, we had a massive coffee tin cache of crayons that had seen better days.
THE WORLD’S GREATEST SUPERHEROES
Of all the actual toys in the house arsenal, however, my favorites at that time had to have been my brother’s Mego “World’s Greatest Superheroes” dolls.
Compared to the detailed, ‘roided out rendering of modern action figures, Megos were very basic, youngster-friendly representations. I didn’t care that Captain America and company didn’t look exactly like they did in comics or on TV… Fully posable, vibrantly colored, and clad in removable cloth costumes with vinyl/plastic accessories, they inspired epic adventure! I swapped costumes and examined every detail of each figure down to the manufacturer stamp. At Christmas time, I fantasized about new additions while browsing through holiday catalogs. Always game to make me laugh, my brother simulated fights by vocalized punching sounds and violently shaking the dolls back and forth – not great for their elastic binding, but very entertaining. Between the two of us, Mom grew very adept at repair (wink).
AND THEN… TRAGEDY!
Sadly, the Megos were stolen from my classroom cubby in 2nd grade. I guess I had it coming – Mom and Dad often warned me about taking personal items to school. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, unfortunately. I held out hopes of restoring the collection for a while, but it was not to be. The Mego toy company collapsed in the early ’80s. I found a stray Hulk figure in a toy store clearance rack some time later, but that was it.
A NEW HOPE
Fast forward 30 years to a chance discovery at a local toy fair. Cutting right to the point, a friend invited me to a local show, so I rode along. Upon our arrival, I realized that the host venue was the site of the comic shows my brother and I frequented in the ’80s. Very cool. Things were looking up!
Then, as we entered the main show space from the lobby, something immediately caught my eye… Standing out amongst an otherwise common collection of trinkets, I found a really clean, loose vintage Mego Spider-Man – in a coffee mug! Craziness! Already in a nostalgic mood, this was too much! I toured the room for another hour or so, consulted eBay, paid the vendor for the doll, and split.
Ok, ok. Wait. I stopped or a minute afterward to pick up some nice, if past their prime, vintage vinyls to feed the Wall of Tunes. The point is that my Mego fever was back!
Shortly afterward, while trolling shops with the family on “free comic book day,” I discovered Figures Toy Company‘s (mostly) faithful and affordable licensed repros of DC heroes from the “World’s Greatest” line. Oh, my! They aren’t perfectly perfect replicas, but, man, are they close. For months, I perused the Figures website; pining and contemplating the wisdom (idiocy) of collecting action figures after age 40. Finally, I caved and laid out for Batman, Robin, Shazam, and a long-coveted Superman! A replacement “Cap” would be nice as well, repro or vintage, but it’s just too much money. The whims of my nerdy inner man-child are mitigated by my native practicality (cheapness).
During the 1970s, superhero cartoons were a dime a dozen and I watched them all. Hanna-Barbera’s Super Friends was a Saturday Morning institution, but didn’t make me a lifetime devotee to DC comics. No, apart from Batman, my loyalties have belonged to Stan Lee’s classic creations; cemented by the Marvel Super Heroes and Spider-Man cartoons from the 1960s.
I was very little when these cartoons aired, but, rotating Marvel luminaries (Captain America, Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, and Sub-Mariner) on a daily basis, the Heroes segments were a bulk indoctrination. Were these cartoons a rock-bottom low for the “limited” movement – hampered by disjointed storytelling and astonishingly crude “animation?” Oh, yeah. But what did it matter? The vivid artwork – copped directly from pages illustrated by comic greats Jack “King” Kirby, Bill Everett, Gene Colon, etc. – was cool and exciting! The jaunty jingles for each hero were distinct and irresistible! It was literally impossible not to sing along.
Spider-Man was a more traditional, if still crudely drawn, cartoon that variably adhered to the spirit of the parent Lee-Ditko–Romita era books; mixing faithful impressions of key characters and arch-nemeses with baffling bastardizations of others. Between the spasticatchyjazzy music and shameless, repetitive recycling of action sequences, the show helped make Spidey an all-time favorite. Even now, the act of watching the MCU “wall crawler” sling from skyscraper to skyscraper as I’d seen the character do decades earlier provokes nostalgic (but manly) tears of joy and unconscious, sympathetic action movements (“thwip, thwip”). Excelsior!
With only one TV at home, opportunities to watch Marvel heroes when they hit prime-time in the late ‘70s depended on 3 conditions: no options elsewhere on the dia; Mom’s feelings toward the actors; and the probability of Dad – a vocal adversary of fantasy/fiction – falling asleep before show time. Thanks, no doubt, to the presence of nice guy veteran actor Bill Bixby, The Incredible Hulk slipped through with regularity.
Not yet a comic collector, I knew “Ol’ Greenskin” from cartoons, toys, coloring books, halloween costumes, etc. Being a self-conscious, socially awkward little bully magnet, watching live-action Hulk smash the small screen was huge. Huge! …Relating to the idea of instantly becoming “the strongest one of all” when screwed with was a no-brainer (“…You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry”).
DOC (DAVID) BANNER – BELTED BY GAMMA RAYS
Many retcons were enacted to bring Hulk to TV. In most cases, it’s customary to compress stories when adapting literary works for screen. Here, however, the changes had more to do with money, technology, and pointless spite than anything else…
Exhibit A: Hulk’s mythic strength was downgraded to feats that star Lou Ferrigno could’ve believably managed without performance enhancing gamma radiation. I get it. They had to tone-down the most fantastical elements of the character. Even if money was no object, a comic-accurate Hulk wasn’t possible with the technology available at the time.
Exhibit B: The origin story was changed to attribute Hulk’s transformations to a lab mishap in lieu of a bomb test. Last I checked, the cold war was still on in 1977, but ok. Simulated gamma explosions and staged desert military battles would’ve proved too pricey as well.
Exhibit C: Comic lore was eschewed in favor of plots in the Fugitive/Kung-Fu vein… “Wanted for a crime he didn’t commit,” David Banner drifted from town to town and became embroiled in the personal lives of people suffering the torments of disposable villains. Obviously, the show went off formula when the hero (cue Bixby’s glass-eyed “Oh face”) transfigured into a paint-slathered, shaggy-wigged champion body builder; flexed, growled, and tossed some common goons around. In comics, Hulk squared-off against similarly overpowered super-villains, but, again, that would’ve been impossible to replicate in the late ’70s.
Exhibit D: The name of Hulk’s alter-ego was changed from “Bruce” to “David.” What..? Why??? It’s such a petty detail, but it bothers me because it’s so damned stupid. Did CBS execs think the name sounded too Australian for U.S. audiences? Ugggh. Whatever.
BAM! BAP! BOFF! KRUNCH! KAPOW!!!
As much as Marvel heroes captivated me, nothing matched the sheer mania stirred by the ’60s live-action Batman TV show.
Tuning-in most every day at that “same bat time” to that “same bat channel,” I sang along and acted out the animated main theme sequence. I bounced- off walls, couches, and floors! I scoured the hallway wardrobe for any items that could pass for Batman’s boots, cape, and cowl to wear while fighting off imaginary hordes of henchman (“POW!”). Everything about the show was awesome… The swirling horn motifs and swinging surf guitar riffs! The cartoonish overacting and goofy dialogue (“You…filthy criminals”)! The saturated colors, dramatic camera attitudes, and silly plot conveniences! …Julie Newmar in a painted-on cat suit (smile). I was all in.
Mom sewed this awesome stuffed Batman doll that, to this day, stands watch from a high place of honor at home.
The “Dynamic Duo” were my most prized Mego dolls. I had a toy Batmobile. At one point, I started scrawling Batman…everywhere. Sometimes I chose acceptable surfaces like scrap paper. Other times, I drew on…well, unacceptable ones (keepsake boxes – “OUCH!”; hallways – “OOOF!”). My bad.
SATURDAY MORNING’S ALRIGHT FOR FIGHTING (OVER THE TV)
Like any other kid, I loved cartoons and developed strategies for ensuring maximal viewing very early on… As a toddler, for example, I pushed my crib away from the wall to my folks’ bed, climbed down, and went downstairs for the start of Saturday morning cartoons.
You might ask “…Why not sleep-in and stream ‘whatever’ when you got up?” It was the savage ‘70s. “On Demand” didn’t exist. Prior to the 1980s/VHS revolution, shows had to be watched according to a set schedule or be missed. If that wasn’t barbaric enough, because we had no remote, my siblings and I had to physically go to the large wooden console TV and manually turn chunky dials to change channels. Between my rudimentary reading skills and shifting programming schemes, tracking choice ‘toons was challenging but I managed (CLICK CLICK CLICK).
THE NEW DARK AGE
We only had about eight functional channels back then but most ran cartoons at some point during the day. I preferred repackaged golden age “shorts,” but often settled for the haphazardly produced product of the day – which happened to rest squarely at the apex of animation’s “dark age.”
Why “dark age?” Because whatever nostalgic memories Gen-X hold for the heyday of Saturday morning cartoons, the shows were almost uniformly dreadful. After the old Hollywood System fell in the late ’40s-‘50s, the surviving studios slashed budgets and weakened/dumped their in-house animation divisions. The animated theatrical short faded in balance with the rising demand for original Television content. Innovation, whimsy, and excellence were out; fast, cheap, and comparatively stale “limited animations” were in.
INDISCRIMINATING TASTES
Reconsidering shows from the ’50’s & ’60s, it seems that some studios at least tried to leaven the diminished animation standards with hip (Bullwinkle) and thoughtful (Charlie Brownspecials) social commentary. The Flintstones was an analogue for modern class warfare and technology. Scooby Doowas loaded with veiled psychedelic tropes… Think about it – 3 “straight” kids meandering the country in a VW van with an unkempt, munchies obsessed hippie and a talking dog)? If TV’s had “Smell-O-Vision,” you’d have to open your windows to vent the stank whenever the van doors popped open.
By the time I arrived on the scene, the medium had unfortunately devolved into a guileless wasteland of homogeneous efforts. I watched, of course – they were cartoons, after all. The lens through which we evaluate our world changes a lot in the time between 4 and 49 (ideally). Back then, using Fat Albert as an example, ear worm theme songs, passingly colorful characters, and clunky catch phrases (“Hey Hey HEYYYYYYY”) were hook enough. With Laugh-A-Lympics, Hanna-Barbera turned out their deep drawer of properties past (Yogi Bear; Snagglepuss) and present (Grape Ape) to lure kids with an “all-star” lineup. Still, my tastes weren’t indiscriminate. I recognized that the pallid “ALL NEW” takes on classic characters (Tom & Jerry; Popeye) were basically unwatchable in comparison to the originals and steered away.
Strangely, the Walt Disney Company abstained from producing Saturday morning cartoons.
Struggling financially like so many holdovers from the earlier era, the “House of Mouse” had turned almost exclusively to producing feature-length films (Pete’s Dragon; the Rescuers) by the ’70s. Stray reruns of the classic Mickey Mouse Club aired sometimes, but Disney mainly leaned on licensed merchandise (books; records, etc.) and theatrical re-releases (Fantasia) as means of maintaining legacy properties. Their only active TV presence, as far as I can recall, was NBC Sunday night’s Wonderful World of Disney; but still, it focused on live-action event films (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea). Animated classics like Snow White, Dumbo, or Pinocchio only rotated-in on special occasions. I seldom recall seeing their classic cartoon shorts. Could the industry have changed for the better if Mickey, Minnie, Donald, and Goofy had figured prominently in the Saturday morning equation? I can’t help but think so.
I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THAT LEFT TURN AT ALBEQUERQUE!
Given a choice between contemporary cartoons and the classics, I opted for the zany and wildly surreal series from Hollywood’s golden age… Fleischer-Famous-Paramount’s Popeye and Casper the Friendly Ghost. Lantz-Universal’s Woody Woodpecker and Chilly Willy. MGM’s Tom & Jerry and Droopy. Disney cartoons were awesome when I could find them. Of course, my all-time favorites were/are Schlesinger-WB’s Merrie Melodies/Looney Tunes.
What made those works so special? For one, unlike dark age creators, who saved money and aggravation by dumbing things down and pandering to overreaching parent groups, the old guard – Bob Clampett, Fred Quimby, Tex Avery, Robert McKimson, Friz Freleng, Chuck Jones, etc. – had relative free-reign to innovate and self-entertain. They sparked imaginations with raucous, rule-free universes, canonizing countless absurd sight gags (impossibly long limos; body shaped holes in walls) in the process. Of course, creators weren’t totally free from censorship; the Hays Code effectively neutered the Fleischer’s Betty Boop in the 1930s. But, so long as things didn’t get too sexy and the violence remained bloodless, they were generally permitted to bully, bludgeon, bisect, blow up, blow apart, maul, mash, mutilate, squeeze, smash, and scare characters skinless to their heart’s content.
PURE IMAGINATION
Most importantly, the classics were also deceptively sophisticated and respected the intelligence of their audience. Where artless “dark age” products narrowly targeted simple minds with lame dialogue, labored narratives, and primitive images, golden age masterworks aimed higher so as to entertain a much broader base. Knowing that animation is a visual medium, makers of classic theatrical shorts cleverly conveyed story through a combination of dynamic musical arrangements, beautifully rendered art, relatable characterizations, lightning quick sight gag barrages, and winking, “meta” references (“Ok, break it up, son. Joke’s over, hear?”). Golden age cartoons didn’t talk down or waste precious time with needless exposition. They challenged patrons to use the power of observation to connect the dots for themselves.
What’s more, golden age shorts were great because of their pure escapism. Sure, like most popular media forms from that era, many shorts made during wartime, served to promote American propaganda (“Any Bonds Today?”). Disney traded extensively in, well, “Disneyfied” morality tales (Cinderella; Bambi). But, generally speaking, the purpose of those golden age cartoons was pure entertainment. Plots were a pretense that only existed to set up endless gags. Scenarios were just vehicles for exploring the many inventive and delightfully brutal ways Bugs Bunny, Tweety, and Roadrunner could find to foil Elmer Fudd, Sylvester, and Wile E Coyote in the course of seven minutes; to demonstrate how much abuse Popeye could take before squeezing open a can of spinach; and provide Droopy with ample opportunities to break the “4th wall” with droll exclamations (“…I’m happy”).
Ok. I understand the argument that these cartoons may be too profoundly violent to not be desensitizing, particularly for young viewers. It’s also probably for the best that all non-Anglo European stereotypes depicted in the old cartoons have been tucked away from newer generations who can’t likely reconcile the context of their creation. On these points, I leave the following meditations on the importance of any level of nurturing guardianship or guidance…
Employing a parenting style that resided somewhere in the vast middle-ground between the smothering, overbearing modern helicopter parent and the indiscipline of feral dogs, my Mom and Dad managed to impart to me a sense of right, wrong, and empathy. They didn’t hover, yet they knew their kids’ viewing habits enough to make certain we understood life and death 101… You know, fundamental truths of life, like “fall from a cliff and you will die” “shoot someone in the face and they will die,” and “anyone who swallows dynamite will surely die.” I won’t lie – I loved the ultra-violent cartoons. It was absolutely cathartic as hell to watch cartoon avatars for life’s jerks get the tables turned on them with hilariously extreme prejudice time and time again, but the line between real life and fiction never looked thin or blurred. Anyway… Something to think about.
THE CURIOUS CASE OF BUGS BUNNY
Even as a young child, variances in certain characterizations were hard to miss. Using Bugs Bunny as an example, I’d always assumed that his evolution was linear and easily traced, but it wasn’t. His appearance differed a lot from cartoon to cartoon early on, but he was also kind of schitzo: a mean-spirited bully in some shorts; an endearing trickster in others. It was hard to track because there was no consistency moving between black and white and color shorts. Well… Apparently, four different creative groups were churning out monochrome and Technicolor Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons at Warner Brothers at the same time! The groups operated independently with different budget mandates and under the distinct visions of their respective editors. That’s just insane! No wonder the characters were so changeable.
THE MAN OF A THOUSAND VOICES
From the outside-in, a nickname like “Man of a Thousand Voices” may seem like hyperbole, but Mel Blanc – inarguably the most important, prolific, and influential voice talent of all time – earned it. Best remembered for his work with Warner Brothers, Blanc provided the definitive voices for Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck , Porky Pig , Sylvester, Tweety, Yosemite Sam, Foghorn Leghorn, and countless others for the near entirety of a six decade career.
A broad overview of his extensive character/vocal effects work reveals a talent that bridged radio to television (The Jack Benny Program); rival production companies (WB; Lantz; MGM; Disney; Hanna Barbera); and bawdy black and white instructional films for the U.S. military (Private Snafu) to vapid ‘70s Saturday morning kid schlock (Captain Caveman). In 1944, he changed norms for voice actors and screen credits – improving the visibility of his peers and all who came after. He was the original voice of Woody Woodpecker (“Guess who?”) and Barney Rubble (“Uhh huh huh huh”). He was in Duck Dodgers (“I claim this planet in the name of Mars! Isn’t that lovely?”) and Buck Rogers (“Biddy biddy biddy biddy”).
ALL I KNOW OF HIGH CULTURE COMES FROM BUGS BUNNY CARTOONS
…And now a few closing words about WB’s MVC (most valuable composer), Carl Stalling.
In the early 1920s, young composer/orchestra leader Carl Stalling was recruited by a fledgeling Walt Disney to produce music for animated shorts he was developing. Brief but fruitful, the partnership on the “Silly Symphonies” series heralded two revolutionary and natively complimentary advancements. First, Stalling’s “Mickey Mousing” process served to align onscreen action with the music score. Second, the metronomic “click track” (also known then as a “tick system” or “tick track”) improved pacing – aiding musicians in the task of maintaining perfect tempo.
Echoing sentiments shared by film critic Leonard Maltin in a video I watched yesterday on YouTube*, I’ve long viewed Carl Stalling’s scores as stealth mini-clinics in music theory. They imprinted centuries of knowledge onto unknowing viewers via osmosis. He was so integral to the cartoons he worked on, it’s hard to tell from the outside whether the stories informed the scores or vice versa. With the full might of a massive in-house orchestra at his command, Stalling deftly leveraged Warner Brothers’ expansive music catalog; seamlessly weaving passages from existing compositions into epic original scores. He was a master of meter and adept arranger, brilliantly bonding quotes from classical works, jazz, opera, show tunes, etc. to his own material. His approach set the standard for music in animated shorts for decades.
* And you folks probably thought I didn’t know how to properly document sources (smile).
WIDER LINES OF INFLUENCE
Tangentially, I can see how Stalling’s facility for fusion might have influenced the ascent of later music forms, directly or otherwise. ’80s Pop producers repurposed (corrupted) the click track to keep “undisciplined” (feel) players robotically on the beat (kill their soul). Surely, the symphonic/progressive rock acts from the ’70s (Yes; King Crimson) would’ve been exposed to golden age carftoons in their youth… Did Stalling and the composers at MGM somehow inform the work of early industrial bands (Cabaret Voltaire; Ministry) through their inventive use of “stinger” sound effects?” Mmmmmmmmmm…could be.
…Have different angles to consider or comparable stories to tell? Please… Start a conversation in the comments section!
Greetings! My name is Forrest. Welcome to the WALL OF TUNES blog.
In college, friends jokingly likened me to John Cusak’s character from High Fidelity because, well, I’m angsty and I like to talk about music – a LOT.
THE WALL OF TUNES blog dives deep into my personal experiences with media – expanding upon the mix of informational content and highly subjective analyses I post on Facebook, but with more detail, better quality control, and less bad language (smile).
…Have different angles to consider or comparable stories to tell? Please… Start a conversation in the comments section!
FYI: “Easter Eggs” are nested everywhere in highlighted text.