1,001 songs to listen to before you die...

[Liam]

151.

‘Les copains d’abord’, George Brassens (1964)

There has been mention in the book a few times of the French ‘chanson’, something that I’ve never heard of before and don’t really know what it necessarily means. Brassens is considered one of the greatest exponents of this style, though his lyrics being such a fundamental part of his act means that it is apparently difficult to really ‘get’ him unless you understand French. This is a pleasant little ditty even without that extra layer of meaning, though I really can’t vouch for its importance on a list like this.

152.      

‘Samba malato’, Nicomedes Santa Cruz (1964)

Another song that finds me completely out of my depth. This is a pretty cool song though that saw Cruz attempting to bring to prominence the songs he had heard from his mum and grandmother. Afro-Peruvian was almost extinct up until Cruz decided to take it, reconstruct and reproduce for a new audience. The call and response, use of Peruvian drums and heavy percussion are all common features of the style and they come together to create a song that is enjoyable even without the knowledge of the context.

153.      

‘Walk On By’, Dionne Warwick (1964)

A Burt Bacharach tune that originally sat as a B side to a song that Warwick and team had expected to be the hit. Warwick’s sadness within her vocals sells the narrative of the song beautifully, whilst this was apparently the first time Bacharach had tried to use two grand pianos on record in a studio. That’s odd inasmuch as the arrangement feels very simple at points, allowing Warwick to be the star, though the piano does accompany the chorus in a fashion that makes it all the more memorable.

[Liam]

154.      

‘Don’t Gimme No Lip Child’, Dave Berry (1964)

Following on from ‘Walk On By’, this is another song that started life as a B side, though this time the original single is probably a smidge more popular – ‘The Crying Game’. Still, with a saccharine take on a ballad on one side, this more raucous rock-and-blues song stood out even more so for fans of Berry. There’s a nastiness to the lyrics and the overall demeanour of the delivery (The Sex Pistols famously covered this song, perhaps drawn to the overall atmosphere), whilst Jimmy Page was a notable session guitarist who contributed to the frenetic sound. You can see how songs like this paved the way for what would eventually become punk in the 70s.

155.      

‘E Se Domani’, Mina (1964)

A song that was originally written for Fausto Cigliano and Gene Pittney for the Sanremo Music Festival, Mina eventually recorded the best known version of the song. She had such success with it that it became the B side to two singles. The lyrics tell a story of a lover who tries to put into words what a life without her partner would be like and are well known. The build toward Mina’s higher and more passionate notes towards the end is effective, though I miss the real significance of the song as it feels very much ‘wrong time, wrong place’ for me to fully comprehend its success.

156.      

‘The Girl From Ipanema’, João Gilberto and Stan Getz (1964)

It feels a little bit churlish not to include Astrud Gilberto in the title for this one as she is the vocalist that to me has always been the thing that stands out about this song. She isn’t even a particularly ‘good’ singer, but her straight delivery of the English lyrics (translated from the original Portuguese) is part of the charm. Coupled with Getz doing wonderful music on the saxophone, there is something undoubtedly cool about this song even today, so I can only imagine the response to it over forty five years ago.

[Liam]

157.      

‘A Change is Gonna Come’, Sam Cooke (1964)

At least the second song that came to its writer in a dream, the book suggests three reasons for Cooke’s earnest song about his desire for change – talking with student demonstrators; seeing Bob Dylan and realising that he could write songs with a significant message; being turned away from a segregated Holiday Inn. Cooke’s vocals ring true from beginning to end, whilst the lyrical content is central to the significance of this song. In a time when race relations were not always at their best (perhaps an understatement), Cooke believed there was a chance for change in the near future. A song of hope that is sadly still relevant today.

158.      

‘Dancing In The Street’, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas (1964)

Released shortly in the same month as race riots in Harlem and Rochester, there was a suggestion that this was a veiled attempt to get black people out into the streets and protesting/rioting. This was always denied by Reeves in particular and it does just sound like a song that explores the excitement of a good song. Motown was arguably at its creative peak and this is one of its real legacies. This is no ‘Be My Baby’, but is a step above other all girl songs on the list such as ‘Leader of the Pack’.

159.      

‘I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself’, Dusty Springfield (1964)

Whilst many black artists were bridging cultural divides and bringing ‘black’ music to the masses, there were fewer examples of white artists recording in genres stereotypically considered for black audiences. All these generalities are a little bit of a tortured way to say that Springfield was a rare example of a successful white singer doing what was effectively a take on soul music, with a touch of the ballad and pop genre never too far away. I’ve loved covers of this song without ever hearing this version – itself a cover – and was blown away by Springfield’s dynamic vocals. Soft and sultry to loud and passionate, this Burt Bacharach-penned song (the first of many pairings between the two) was perfect for her voice.

[Liam]

160.      

‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling’, The Righteous Brothers (1964)

Influenced by: Baby I Need Your Loving • The Four Tops (1964)   

Influence on: The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore • The Walker Brothers (1965)   

Covered by: Isaac Hayes (1970) • Tom Jones (1970) • Erasure (2003)

This has been (and will continue to be) a learning experience for me, and one of the things I learnt with this batch is that this is a Phil Spector song (not that I’d thought much about it, truth be told). In some ways, it should be obvious – the singing, the instrumental and the backing vocals build to create a wall of sound that feels really cutting edge. This was forty-five seconds longer than the length of the usual radio song, so the label lied to stations in order to make sure it got airplay. Not that I believe they would have been overly concerned; this is another slice of pop that perhaps unarguably goes down as a truly great song. From the production to the execution, nary a step is taken in the wrong direction.

161.      

‘You Really Got Me Going’, The Kinks (1964)

Influenced by: Louie Louie • The Kingsmen (1963)   

Influence on: I Can’t Explain • The Who (1965)   

Covered by: Robert Palmer (1978) • Van Halen (1978) • The 13th Floor Elevators (1978) • Sly and The Family Stone (1983) • Iggy Pop (1995) • Small Faces (1996) • The Patron Saints (2005)

Up until this point, we’ve seen a lot of what I effectively feel is ‘rock and roll’. With ‘Louie Louie’ and songs like this, it feels like the transition to songs that are more out and out ‘rock’ has begun. Under pressure to have a hit after tanking with their first two singles, the Kinks hit it out of the park with this song. Between the distorted guitar, incessant percussion and increasingly loud and aggressive vocals, a blueprint had formed. Unlike some rock songs from in and around the next decade, I feel this still stands up to this day and doesn’t feel particularly dated, even though it does have moments that feel of its time.

162.      

‘The House of the Rising Sun’, The Animals (1964)

Influenced by: Honey Hush • Big Joe Turner (1953)  

Influence on: Delta Lady • Joe Cocker (1969)   

Covered by: The Supremes (1964) • Frijid Pink (1969) • Tim Hardin (1969) • Santa Esmeralda (1977) • Tracy Chapman (1990) • Sinéad O’Connor (1994) • The Walkabouts (1996) • Muse (2002)

Recorded in fifteen minutes, this was a rare example of a UK band (…I was not aware of this) sending a traditional American song back over the ocean. Eric Burdon’s vocals here are king for me, as his wailing and growling makes this a more striking song than it otherwise might have been. That’s not to say the instrumentals are bad, just that it takes what could have been a good song and makes it a great song. My only real gripe is that they unleashed a song that was destined to be played at every school talent show ad nauseum, so fuck them for that.

Probably the best trio of songs in my opinion, though that probably speaks more to my own growing awareness of the songs by this point on the list.

[Curt McGirt]

Quote

 

This has to be the coolest music video I've never seen.

Edited March 14, 2020 by Curt McGirt

[ohtani's jacket]

1964

1964 was the start of the British Invasion and we get a taste of that with the Kinks and the Animals.

The Leader of the Pack strikes me as a song that's smarter than I thought. I'm pretty sure the Shangri-Las were working a gimmick and that the entire thing is tongue-in-cheek. Regardless of how clever it is, it's incredibly melodramatic and not something I'm likely to listen to again and again unless I somehow get really into the teen-tragedy genre. It reminds me of that scene from Hi Fidelity where they chose their top 5 songs about death.

I liked the Brassens tune and the Santa Cruz tune but can't really say much about them. The Mina song was also nice. The Girl From Ipanema is fine, but that's a song I've heard waaay too much in coffee shops. 

That Dave Berry song was a rocking little joint. That was a surprise.

I'm gonna be honest -- A Change is Gonna Come is a beautiful song but it's not my go-to when I want some Sam Cooke. This might be a little blasphemous but the string arrangement bothers me at times and the way he draws out every line ("I goooooo to the moooooovie.")

This is the Sam Cooke I like:

If you like that, check out the album. One of the greatest soul records of all-time. 

Heatwave > Dancing in the Street.

Man, could Dusty Springfield sing. I complained about the strings on A Change is Gonna Come but the orchestration on that Dusty track is so heavy and she just sweeps it aside and kills it. That woman was a force. I like Dionne Warwick's work with Bacharach too, but personally I think Dusty has one of the best voices we've heard so far.

You've Lost That Loving Feeling is the kind of song you drunkenly sing at karaoke but it really is a masterpiece in production and so radical for its time. I love when Hatfield cuts loose at the end. 

I am a big Kinks fan but I prefer their later stuff. I also prefer War to The Animals but that's not a knock on the tunes included here.

The last two songs they chose are staggeringly great. I had never heard of John Jacob Niles, but Jesus, that falsetto. That was a voice from heaven. 

And Amsterdam... I recommend folks listen to Scott Walker or Bowie cover it in English then watch Brel perform it...phenomenal. 

What else?

My Girl, The Temptations
Baby, I Need Your Loving, The Four Tops
Where Did Our Love Go, The Supremes
Mississippi Goddamn, Nina Simone
Please Baby Don't Go, Them
I Get Around, The Beach Boys
She's Not There, The Zombies
Rosalyn, The Pretty Things
You Never Can Tell, Chuck Berry (that song from Pulp Fiction)

Deep soul

After Laughter, Wendy Rene

Go Now, Bessie Banks

Peruvian teenage garage rock!

 

[Liam]

163.      

‘Go ‘Way From My Window’, John Jacob Niles (1964)

This is something very different. Having got the main two lines from a song sung by a ‘Negro ditch-differ’, Niles left it for just over twenty years before he transposed it to a higher key. This only covers the period thirty five years before this song was recorded as Niles was an old man of 72 in 1964. It’s the transition from traditional folk-style vocals to falsetto and back again that gives this its eerie charm. The song itself is simplistic in nature, but Niles was out there in terms of the sonics of his delivery in a way that makes him an eye opener even now.

164.      

‘Amsterdam’, Jacques Brel (1964)

Perhaps somewhat of an oddity as a song on the list that was never formerly recorded outside of this live version at L’Olympia. This is all about Brel’s build, the insistent power of his voice telling his story of the sailors that live a life of depravity, yet Brel’s crescendo eventually – and briefly - touches on his feelings over either an unfaithful love, or the whores who give away their love for money. Either way, it is powerful stuff.. This is an arresting live performance even now; irrelevant of your knowledge of the narrative or the lyrics, Brel is brilliant from opening note to nerve jangling finish.

165.      

‘La Paloma’, Caterina Valente (1964)

A song that is as much about the history of it more so than the performance by Valente. The book claims that this could be the most recorded song in history with a six CD collection of versions of it barely scratching the surface of the 2,000 recordings that are known to exist. The orchestral backing and Valente’s sultry vocals make this an easy listen. The rhythm relies on the Cuban habanera, whilst the earliest known recording of ‘La paloma’ as an instrumental goes as far back as 1883. A piece of musical history if nothing else.

[Liam]

166.      

‘Sinnerman’, Nina Simone (1965)

By far the longest song on the list thus far at about double the length of the leader up until this point, this was a traditional gospel standard that was given new life by Simone. A staple of her live show, this was the first time that it had been committed to an album (Pastel Blues). Simone had been getting further involved in the civil rights movement and this song gave the album a positive, emphatic finish. I’ve never really heard the song past the opening minute or two, so it was a novel experience to get the full ten minutes. Whilst I’m not going to knock the studio version, I can only imagine that this was a stunningly effective means through which to finish a live set, leaving the fans invigorated and revitalised.

167.      

‘The Irish Rover’, The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem (1965)

A song that went on to be famously (I guess – it is at least the version I am aware of) covered by the Pogues and the Dubliners, ‘The Irish Rover’ had disputed roots but has been claimed to be 19th century Irish sea shanty. The lyrics tell a story of a boat travelling to New York with a load of bricks, only to end up wrecked on the high seas. Every version of this gets the toes tapping and begs to be sung along to, whilst the humour in the lyrics adds another layer to the whole shebang. I’m higher on this than some might be, but just love it.

168.      

‘Needle of Death’, Bert Jansch (1965)

I didn’t really know what to expect when you add the interesting title and the fact that I’ve got no idea who Jansch is having never heard of him, let alone his music. What I got was a beautifully poignant song about the death of David Polly, a guitarist who had died due to a heroin and cocaine overdose. This was a Jansch-penned song amongst an album of old standards and is as touching in its delivery as it is lyrically. Simple, folky guitar supports Jansch’s plaintive vocals, with this being perhaps one of the earlier examples to explore the effect of drugs on those in the music industry.

[Curt McGirt]

Thanx Ohtani! This is awesome. 

Also happy that "Amsterdam" got on the list, obviously

[ohtani's jacket]

I'm pretty sure the book made a mistake with Irish Rover. It says it was a B side to a single named "The Rising of the Moon," but that was another track called Wild Rover. Irish Rover was the B side to an earlier 1963 release, Brennan on the Moor. Not important, but you know...

[Liam]

169.      

‘Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag’, James Brown (1965)

Some songs are just the aural equivalent of swag; this is one of them. This is considered the first song of what would be considered ‘funk’, with a harder sound that focused on the downbeat. Horns, guitars and Brown’s iconic vocal stylings (grunts and all). Whilst it still sounds cool today, I can imagine it sounding incredibly vital around the time it was released. A song that just makes you want to move.

170.      

‘La boheme’, Charles Aznavour (1965)

They do love a French song on this list – not that that is necessarily a bad thing as they have more often than not delivered. Aznavour had done what he could do make it in showbusiness, even taking a job as Edith Piaf’s chauffeur. This is another song about looking back on a past love, with strings and piano to match the melancholy tone. Aznavour is a good singer, yet it is the slightly rough edge that he has which works (something that the book points out) to the benefit of the song. It makes him one of us, easier to empathise with and someone we want to drink with to his lost love. Understated beauty from start to finish.

171.      

‘California Dreamin’’, The Mamas and the Papas (1965)

Influenced by: Mr. Tambourine Man • The Byrds (1965)   

Influence on: Sunday Will Never Be the Same • Spanky and Our Gang (1967)   

Covered by: The Seekers (1966) • Bobby Womack (1968) • The Four Tops (1969) • M.I.A. (1985) • The Beach Boys (1986)

Is there a better example of a song that everyone has – at least once – tried to sing along to? Written by John and Michelle Phillips, the latter’s longing for California the spark for the narrative, it mixes folk and pop in an irresistible tune. The harmonising is beautiful from all of the members of the group, whilst the simple musical accompaniment adds a toe-tapping/head nodding melody to the whole thing. Until it was pointed out, I hadn’t really noticed the slight unease throughout the song – a layer that subconsciously added an interesting wrinkle to an otherwise quite straightforward song, perhaps.

[Liam]

172.      

‘Ticket To Ride’, The Beatles (1965)

Influenced by: When You Walk in the Room • The Searchers (1964)  

Influence on: Tomorrow Never Knows • The Beatles (1966)   

Covered by: The 5th Dimension (1967) • The Carpenters (1969) • The Punkles (1998)

The first of perhaps a number of Beatles songs and one that I'm personally a fan of. Whilst it isn’t the best song in their catalogue, it is definitely a step above some of their saccharine pop tunes that don’t age as well as some of the songs they released. The stop/start nature of the drums as well as the melancholy nature of the lyrics made this sound like a sonic departure from what the Beatles had become known for, thus making it almost most interesting just by proxy as much as anything else. What always underpins a Beatles song is the earworm element – it is rare to hear a Beatles song (in my opinion) and not feel like singing along at least a little bit. Ticket to Ride definitely has this element nailed down.

173.      

‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’, The Rolling Stones (1965)

Influenced by: Dancing in the Street • Martha & The Vandellas (1964)   

Influence on: Sunshine of Your Love • Cream (1967)   

Covered by: Sandie Shaw (1968) • The Troggs (1975) • Devo (1977) • Tom Jones (1996) • Cat Power (2000) • Britney Spears (2000)

Never having really considered it before, it feels strange to have this song in such close proximity to the Beatles’ output. For some reason, this just feels more 70s to me, which perhaps is why it stood out amongst the other songs released this year as it felt ahead of the curve. This was another song that came to a singer/songwriter in their sleep as Keith Richards woke up, played the riff and sang the title into a recorder, before falling asleep once more. Divine intervention indeed. The fuzzy, grimey feeling of the guitar from that intro onwards still rocks today, whilst Jagger had the right lip-curling sneer to his vocals to make the band sound that little bit aggressive and dangerous. I’ve never been a huge Rolling Stones fan, but this is undoubtedly a belter of a tune.

174.      

‘Tracks of my Tears’, The Miracles (1965)

As mentioned in the book, it is perhaps the eloquence of Smokey Robinson’s lyrics that stand out when you dig a little deeper – anyone that can just casually drop the word ‘substitute’ a song is impressive. Robinson’s vocal delivery sells the narrative of the lyrics, whilst horns and drums add a slightly more bombastic tone (apparently more akin to output from Stax than Motown, The Miracles’ actual label). It only reached 16 in the US charts, but enjoyed a resurgence due to covers and its use in some big eighties movies such as Platoon, and I for one am pleased that that was the case.

[Liam]

175.       

‘Mr. Tambourine Man’, The Byrds (1965)

I’ve grown to like Bob Dylan a lot more over the years as I’ve become more accustomed to his work, yet I’ve often been of the opinion that he is a better writer than he is a performer. I’ve often felt that the tunes he writes are performed better by other people. However, I do like Dylan’s ‘Mr. Tambourine Man’, so this isn’t necessarily the case for this song. That’s not to say that the Byrds version isn’t good – indeed, Dylan himself loved that The Byrds did to his song, turning it into a slightly more upbeat song tonally that he thought you could dance to. For me, I have nothing much more to say about it; it is an enjoyable piece of folky rock that is understated, yet catchy.

176.      

‘Like A Rolling Stone’, Bob Dylan

Influenced by: Lost Highway • Hank Williams (1949)   

Influence on: Hey Jude • The Beatles (1968)   

Covered by: The Turtles (1965) • Cher (1966) • The Jimi Hendrix Experience (1970) • Spirit (1975) • Mick Ronson (1994) • The Rolling Stones (1995) • Nancy Sinatra (1999) • Green Day (2009)

Claimed by many to be Dylan’s best song, it is definitely a spiralling epic of a tune when you compare it to what existed around it at this time. It feels like it goes on forever, yet in a positive fashion. Dylan’s sneery and acerbic vocals/lyrics are good, but it is the music that works most for me here. In particular, the electronic organ that offers what is effectively the riff, alongside the harmonica, make this the song it becomes. In terms of its wider importance, it charted highly, breaking the expectations for what could and could not be a single.

177.      

‘People Get Ready’, The Impressions (1965)

This is another perfect example of a song that was pleasant enough, yet its importance becomes more apparent when the lyrics are explored in more detail or the background story known a bit better. Using the gospel idea of a train journey, The Impressions sang beautifully about black unity and a hope for a better future. The song did little outside of the ordinary to catch my attention, but time, place and person when it was released would have made it something special.

[Liam]

178.      

‘Who Do You Love’, The Preachers (1965)

And things get ever noisier. The Preachers didn’t last very long and the lead singer was eventually fired for his over the top vocal style, yet this Bo Diddley cover became a garage rock staple. There is just non-stop noise from the opening all the way through to the shouting that closes out the song. It feels almost punky in nature, though still with enough of a focus on hooks. Very out there for its time and a definite eye (ear?) opener for what was out there alongside your acts like the Beatles and the Stones.

179.      

‘The Carnival is Over’, The Seekers (1965)

A rare example (so far) of an Australian band turning up on the list. The focus on the book’s entry is that strength of the lead vocals, the harmonising and the strings. I say this primarily because the song did little for me in the grand scheme of things. Yes, Judith Durham has a good voice and the harmony of it all is pleasant enough, but as for its position on a list such as this? I’m not so sure.

180.      

‘Psycho’, The Sonics (1965)

Tacoma, Washington was the home to five teenagers who called themselves ‘The Sonics’, and it was this distance from some of the glitzier music hubs that meant their rock and roll sound lacked some of the polish that their contemporaries did. Not that that is something to complain about as the rawness and vitality make it a really good song still today. Hooky, yet with a grungy tone throughout, it is just over two minutes of what rock and roll perhaps should have sounded more when the tone set out to match the ideals.

[Curt McGirt]

On 3/21/2020 at 12:26 PM, Liam said:

In particular, the electronic organ that offers what is effectively the riff, alongside the harmonica, make this the song it becomes.

It's funny because Al Kooper was not originally supposed to be sitting in on the organ in that session, and in fact was not an organ player. He apparently didn't even know the song which is why his playing is behind the beat -- he was listening to see what was coming next so he could imitate it! 

The song was also originally either 10 or 20 pages of "vomit" (Dylan's word) in verse that he had to cut down to size. 

[ohtani's jacket]

1965

1965 and finally we see some Beatles, Rolling Stones and Dylan. I feel like this is the most mainstream the list has been so far. 

I'm glad they finally included some Nina Simone as she is one of my all-time favorite artists. Nice to see some James Brown as well, though I prefer the harder funk he recorded with the JB's to his early stuff. Otis gets a nod here as well with that slow burner. 

California Dreamin' has those beautiful vocal harmonies. It's one of those songs that can be uplifting and joyous or depressing as f**k depending on your mood. Kind of like the way it's used in Chungking Express.

At first I thought Ticket to Ride was a strange choice as the first Beatles song on the list. Then I listened to it and remembered that it's a great tune. The Stones' rune is iconic and has one of the best riffs in rock history. Subterranean Homesick Blues seemed like an odd choice for a Dylan track, but it does have an awesome video and it's a rocking, bluesy tune:

Like a Rolling Stone is an amazing track. To think the world's most renowned folk singer would pen such a sneering and vengeful rock song, and play it on the electric guitar. It didn't turn the music world upside down, but it should have. 

La Paloma is a song that I don't understand but it must speak to people to have been recorded so many times. La boheme felt like a nice little jaunt through the streets of Paris. I'm not exactly sure what it's about. I think it's a wistful love song or something. Ignorance. 

The Irish Rover was great. The Pogues & Dubliners version is also great. I love how the description of the boat grows more ridiculous with each verse. 

I don't remember hearing Needle of Death before. That was pretty raw for the time. Interesting choice to represent folk music as well. 

We're starting to get into the era where every song sounds like the soundtrack to the Vietnam War, but I love The Tracks of My Tears. Smokey Robinson had such a beautiful voice. The Supremes needed to be on the list in some form or another. I always loved that little piano intro to Stop! In the Name of Love. The production on that song is amazing. Some of Motown's finest. I don't know how they left The Four Tops off the list, though. Criminally underrated Motown act. 

I'm gonna come out and say it, that Seekers song  is the worst song to make the list so far. What was that all about? Did they include it just because it was Australian? I can tell you, Australia has produced finer songs than that over the years.

I would rather listen to Dylan sing Tambourine Man. I'm not a big fan of early Curtis Mayfield either, so the Impressions song didn't win me over. 

Who Do You Love? and Psycho seem to be the garage rock picks for this year. Both are great songs. There was a garage rock explosion in '65, which I'll get to in a sec.

The final three songs they chose -- Sounds of Silence, My Generation and Unchained Melody -- aren't likely to be in heavy rotation on my playlists, but I can recognize their greatness and placement on the list. I went through a phase when I was a teenager where I was a huge Who fan, and Unchained Melody is an amazing vocal performance by Bobby Hatfield. But for my generation (ha), that song was shoved down our throats by the Swayze movie. 

1965 was a bad year for a lot of the music I like. In fact, there is only one blues song of any real note and that is Howin' Wolf's Killing Floor.

I find that a bit sad since garage rock exploded around this time, which obviously wouldn't exist without the blues. Still, the explosion of bands around this time was amazing. You can go down a foxhole with all of the records. Here are some memorable ones for me:

I Fought the Law, Bobby Fuller Four
You're Pushing Too Hard & Can't Seem to Make You Mine, The Seeds
I Ain't No Miracle Worker, The Brogues
What a Way to Die, The Pleasure Seekers
Demolicion, Los Saicos
Just Like Me, Paul Revere & The Raiders

Liar, Liar, The Castaways

Some other stuff:

Ride Your Pony, Lee Dorsey

Do I Love You, Frank Wilson
Blues Run the Game, Frank C. Jackson
Heart Full of Soul, The Yardbirds

[Curt McGirt]

Yeah, "Pushin Too Hard" and "Heart Full of Soul" REALLY deserve to be on the list. I used to play "Pushin" every time I had a burger at a local bar I used to go to, along with "Flash Light" by Parliament and something else I can't recall so I always got my money's worth from the three picks (since "Flash Light" is like eight minutes long haha)

 

EDIT: Ah, I remember what the third song was. It was also on the Nuggets CD on the jukebox along with the Seeds song.

 

Edited March 26, 2020 by Curt McGirt

[ohtani's jacket]

Never heard that Count Five song before. Nice!

[OSJ]

1 hour ago, ohtani's jacket said:

Never heard that Count Five song before. Nice!

Seek out the cover by the Cramps, it will change your life!

[Curt McGirt]

 

[ohtani's jacket]

Sweet. I listened to the EP it comes from. Saw the Cramps live once when I was just a kid. 

[Liam]

181.      

‘I’ve Been Loving You For Too Long (To Stop Now)’, Otis Redding (1965)

After Sam Cooke has been shot to death by a motel keeper, Redding took a step away from the bawling style that he had used for most of the early 60s and added a little bit of Cooke’s elegance in a play for the mainstream. It is the earnestness of the vocals here from Redding that mostly stand out, building up, slowing down, reaching a peak of release. Sadly (and not something I was aware of), Redding died in 1967, thus not really having particularly long to enjoy his burst into the public conscious.

182.      

‘Stop! In The Name Of Love’, The Supremes (1965)

The Supremes had already had three number one by this point, but this was to go on and be the one they are most associated with. It isn’t anything much more than some of the other girl group stuff that has been on the list up until this point, but there was a polish about The Supremes that made it hard not to see why they were heralded in such a manner. Take the version I’ve used – every shimmy and hand gesture beautifully complements a song that is undeniably catchy, whilst the aesthetic appeal of the trio was unarguable. The book talks about them entering the realms of groups who were able to bridge the black/white divide and the package they offered highlights why.

183.      

‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’, Bob Dylan (1965)

Influenced by: Too Much Monkey Business • Chuck Berry (1956)   

Influence on: We Didn’t Start the Fire • Billy Joel (1989)  

Covered by: Harry Nilsson (1974) • Red Hot Chili Peppers (1987) • Mountain (2007)

One of the most ripped off videos ever (I saw ‘it’ first in INXS ‘Mediate’ off of my Dad’s ‘Kick’ VHS), Dylan gleefully messed around with the concept of ‘Too Much Monkey Business’ by Chuck Berry , threw in some lyrics from other acts he enjoyed and created this beautiful mess. It is a song I genuinely enjoy, though the importance of ‘Bringing It All Back Home’, the album it comes from, is something I can’t really process due to the distance of time. The suggestion made is that it was seismic, somewhat like the Sex Pistols in the following decade. Whether that is true or not, it does leave me with one thought: maybe I really should go back and check out more Dylan.

[Liam]

184.      

‘The Sounds of Silence’, Simon and Garfunkel (1965)

Influenced by: Masters of War • Bob Dylan (1963)   

Influence on: Catch the Wind • Donovan (1965)   

Covered by: The Bachelors (1966) • Bud Shank (1966) • The Ventures (1970) • Edward Woodward (1970) • James Last (1974) • Nevermore (2000) • Shaw-Blades (2007)

Written in the aftermath of John F. Kennedy’s assassination, the song had an interesting gestation period. Originally released with just a guitar as backing in 1964, the duo broke up due to general lack of interest in their work, or so it seemed. Tom Wilson, a producer, then overdubbed electric guitar, bass and drums without the duo’s permission, yet it turned it into the song that we all enjoy (or at least I do). There is something unsettling about the whole song, from lyrics to harmonies, and it has been used to great effect in a multitude of different films and television shows. A personal favourite from the list so far.

185.      

‘My Generation’, The Who (1965)

‘I hope I die before I get old’ is a lyric that pretty much encapsulated the disaffection of the youth at this time, whilst also acting a microcosm for the devil may care attitude espoused by many a rock star. Though the drums, guitars and bass all add up to create a wonderful cacophony of noise, at the core this is a pop song (as mentioned in the book) and it is the hookiness of the vocals that sends this song into orbit. The co-manager told Roger Daltrey to stutter on the line ‘Why don’t you all f-fade away?’, a hint at a potentially stronger phrase that might have been uttered in this chaotic three minutes. Simple things make a big impact.

186.      

‘Unchained Melody’, The Righteous Brothers (1965)

One of my ex-stepmum’s favourite films was ‘Ghost’, thus this song was imprinted on my memory from a very young age. What is staggering is the number of times and the number of different people who released this song before this version, with 1955 seeing six different interpretations alone (if my maths is correct). This is naturally the most popular version of the tune with Bobby Hatfield’s voice in particular given a chance to shine (he of the higher notes compared to Bill Medley who sung the lower stuff, though Medley also produced the song even though a credit was given to Phil Spector – a convoluted set up indeed). Apparently Spector was angry that the A side of this, a song called ‘Hung On You’, didn’t get more airtime, but it probably isn’t hard to hear why that was the case as the soaring vocals work their dizzying way to the end of this song.

[Liam]

187.      

‘Et moi et moi et moi’, Jacques Dutronc (1966)

Apparently an example of a song from the French Yé-yé scene, it was a playful mix of the guitar sounds of bands like the Kinks with Gallic sarcasm. This is definitely the French song that has sounded the ‘coolest’ as much as that actually matters, with Dutronc’s playful vocal delivery effective even without knowledge of the lyrics. The bounciness of the whole tune also makes it something that transcends the need to know the words – it is hard not to nod along or tap your feet to the jangly guitar.

188.      

‘Stay With Me’, Lorraine Ellison (1966)

This is one powerful tune and Ellison’s voice is ridiculously good for it. Filling a gap in a recording schedule due to an illness to Frank Sinatra of all people, Ellison delivered. She was originally a gospel singer, yet the lyrics of this song (and songs in the lead up to this) had seen her move away from the chaste lyrical content of that style of music. Without that, we wouldn’t have this. Ellison pours her heart out for a lover who is walking out of the door. Few songs can match this in terms of pure delivery; Ellison is truly believable as the desperate lady who longs for one more chance to make things work.

189.      

‘Al-Atlal’ Oum Kalthoum (1966)

This was definitely a song.

…

…ok, so this is where the music in here does go somewhat beyond my own knowledge, interest, engagement. Impressive and skilful, it just isn’t the type of music I particularly care for. Though that didn’t stop me from enjoying over music from the list thus far, it was a barrier to my enjoyment for this song. It was difficult enough just to find a version of the song, so you’ll have to make do with the live one from 1967.

[Liam]

190.      

‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’, The Thirteenth Floor Elevators (1966)

A cracking song that I’ve never heard of before. The Thirteenth Floor Elevators (so named as the 13th letter in the alphabet is ‘m’ and makes the link to marijuana) were a psychedelic rock band who used to hand out LSD to fans at gigs. The first thing that struck was the odd ‘womp’ sound that occasionally appeared; I believe that now to be the sound of the jug player. This is another song that feels like it does a lot over a short period of time as it moves from the paceier opening to a surf rock breakdown section that eases things somewhat. Really fun tune and doesn’t outstay its welcome.

191.      

‘Substitute’, The Who (1966)

Influenced by: 19th Nervous Breakdown • The Rolling Stones (1966)   

Influence on: Pretty Vacant • Sex Pistols (1977)   

Covered by: Sex Pistols (1979) • The Glitter Band (1986) • Ramones (1993) • Blur (1994) • Richard Thompson (2006) • Crosbi (2007)

This song took me a moment to remember, though I do feel it is one that I’ve perhaps only heard a few times in my life. Loving the way that Smokey Robinson used the word in ‘Tracks of My Tears’, Pete Townshend named a whole song ‘Substitute’ and it is a fine slice of rock. The prominence of the acoustic guitar and the loudness of the bass in parts adds to a hook-laden set of lyrics, though ‘I look all white but my dad was black’ was cut from the US version for being deemed too controversial. By no means a world beating song, it is an enjoyable addition to the Who’s repertoire at this time and a song that went on to be a live staple.

192.      

‘Eight Miles High’, The Byrds (1966)

Influenced by: India • John Coltrane (1963)  

Influence on: Raga rock   

Covered by: Golden Earring (1969) • Roxy Music (1980) Hüsker Dü (1984) • Ride (1990) • Robyn Hitchcock and The Egyptians (1996) • Dave Cloud (1999) • Chris Hillman (2005) • The Postmarks (2008)

 A song that aimed to cover the experiences on an underwhelming tour of the UK (as well as the obvious drug references), the song was banned in the US. The Byrds were a favourite band of the Beatles and the blissed out pop-rock does sound – at points – like the Fab Four put through an American blender. The plucky guitar solos are great, whilst the airy vocal delivery just adds to the drug-fuelled vibe. A very worthwhile listen.