Responding to a friend’s challenge
Where in the 70's?
Can you find 20 killer songs?
I suppose that Paul Combs could issue most any challenge, and I’d feel the need to respond, maybe to echo, but certainly to reconsider all that I love, and perhaps have forgotten about the music of my life.
The 1970s, musically speaking, was a quantum leap from the 60’s: bridges were built, surely, but in the immortal words of a reggae star who knew his scripture, there were also “many rivers to cross.” Some of us waded through quite nicely; others had to get thrown in just to see if they’d choose to survive, or try to get back somehow to that nearer shore.
Though Paul didn’t dictate this, his challenge focused more on the Rock side of things, so I want to honor that, which means I’m not going to be listing my Disco favorites (Sorry “Night Fever” and “You Make me Feel [Mighty Real]”). I feel a bit thick this morning, so when I reveal this list of 20 cool tunes, please don’t be that person who jumps on board immediately to tell me all I left out. I’m already conscious of choosing only one song per artist, and since you already know how I feel about Neil and Bowie, I’m wincing enough with the pain. But PLEASE, chime in on songs that you LOVE in the comments, or better yet, accept the challenge and let’s make Paul and the 70’s live again.
Here’s his original story:
What I’m doing is dividing my songs into themes/sub-genres, so here goes:
Anthems.
- “Baba O’Riley,” The Who from Who’s Next (1971). I might just have to end my list right here, but I won’t. Maybe the anthem of all anthems in the Rock and Roll era. F**k yeah, play it absolutely at MAX volume and screw anyone who tells you to turn down that volume (I’m reliving my bedroom in the 70’s, can you tell?). I think we all know about the “teenage wasteland,” too. And no, it hasn’t changed fundamentally, either.
- “Diamond Dogs,” Bowie from Diamond Dogs (1974). Already I got myself trapped, because I so wanted my Bowie cut to be “Heroes,” which to me ushered in something about techno changes and white man disco and trying to figure out who I was back in ’77. But “Diamond Dogs,” from my first year in college, signaled a change that I sort of understood and reveled in. Well, I didn’t know what rock and roll had to do with genocide, but I was a quicker study and thought about how and why Bowie was tripping us all up. And then I met two other Bowie freaks who wore dog collars and claimed to be Chem majors, so we smoked a lot of dope and were the only three guys who listened to this song on repeat. They pronounced his name Bow-ie like Bow Wow Wow, but no matter. Nixon had already resigned.
- “Because the Night,” The Patti Smith Group from Easter (1978). Man, Paul, I wanted to put “Thunder Road in this slot, but I’ve written of it before, and besides, I keep thinking of the songs that changed the way I saw Rock, and while TR made me play air everything, when Patti covered this Bruce tune (before I knew it was a Bruce tune), I started getting just what was coming in the punk world that Alabama tried to hide us from. Most people who hated Patti loved this song; the rest of us started building outward, starting with Horses. Oh man, I LOVE the power of this song. And Patti.
- “Smoke on the Water,” Deep Purple from Machine Head (1972). I feel a little funny now. I once knew a guy who played this on his kazoo. Not what Purple had in mind, for sure, but when you start with guitar chord/riffs like these, what should you expect? Everyone — I MEAN EVERYONE — knew this song and loved it and could sing with it. My Deep Purple friends got highly anxious, then, with their love because no one wants to be part of the General Public when it comes to Hard Rock, but there you are anyway. They name drop the Mothers and the Stones, too, so………I’m still groovin’ to it, by the way.
- “All the Girls Love Alice,” Elton John from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (1973). Hell yeah this is an anthem, because when you crank it out of your car late at night, just try to observe the speed limit and don’t worry about what those guys on the corner might be thinking about you, or it, or even Alice. I thought about “White Rabbit,” too, but it’s from that earlier decade, though I think Elton knew it and got it and wanted us to remember, too. My favorite song from this pretty solid album. How rebellious of me: I ordered it from my Dad’s Columbia Record Club account, but at least I knew why the young girls loved what they loved.
Feel the Beat?
6. “Do It Again,” Steely Dan from Can’t Buy a Thrill (1972). I remember wondering who and what this was when it decided to play itself on AM radio back in ’72. Since I already loved the more rhythmic Latin sounds of Santana and Malo, I thought at first I was hearing another in that strain. The constancy of the beat, the thrill of not being able to genre-fy this song or band at the onset got me pretty fast. Others argue that they got better over the years, and maybe so, if you’re into qualifying such things. But I can honestly say that I’ve never liked another Dan song better than this one.
7. “Superstition,” Stevie Wonder from Talking Book (1973). Boogie on. I could listen just to the beat of the drums and keyboards without any lyrics for the 4:25 of this song. But okay, give me the vocals anyway, because I’m not tempting fate or refusing to take my cautions seriously. My senior year of high school. You understand? You believe?
8. “World Turning,” Fleetwood Mac from Fleetwood Mac (1975). Building a better world, song by song, beat by beat. I can’t say that this song grabbed me originally, but on repeated listens, it’s the one that keeps standing out. And when I saw them live, it proved it all night for sure.
9. “Mother’s Daughter,” Santana from Abraxas (1970). A driving song if ever there was one, and I mean that in at least two senses, so pick the one you like best: “I got no time for foolin’ with you baby/your stupid game is about to end.” Remember: I was only 14 and so what did or didn’t I know about stupid games? Anyway, that guitar!!!!!!!!! And the ending strains/echoes. Holy shit.
10. “Slippin’ Into Darkness,” War from All Day Music (1971). Walking through the corridors of my high school wasteland back in ’71, my freshman/sophomore year, I’d hear the guys I didn’t hang with singing this tune, and I wondered what they knew that I didn’t — like what the darkness meant to them while I was at home and comfortable and trying to figure out what algebra was (never did). War challenged us. Yep.
The Weirdness of Rock.
11. “Ballad of Dwight Fry,” Alice Cooper from Love It To Death (1971). I can’t explain. Just listen and tell me why I shouldn’t have loved Alice back then, or now. “See my lonely life unfold. I see it every day.”
12. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” Pink Floyd from Wish You Were Here (1975). Well, who knows what they were talking about. Did it ever really matter? Did I wear this album out in my dorm room sophomore year of college? Oh yes.
Ballads that Aren’t about Dwight Fry.
13. “Let It Grow,” Eric Clapton from 461 Ocean Boulevard (1974). I know he’s a crazy diamond now, but he wasn’t always so bad. I hate it all — the politics of our lives. I don’t know why his love didn’t grow, but back then, it tried.
14. “You’re So Vain,” Carly Simon from No Secrets (1974). A creeper for sure, this song got me from the beginning whispers and never let go. We all wondered who she meant: Beatty, Jagger, George Hamilton (hope not). But did it really matter in the end?
15. “Out On the Weekend,” Neil Young from Harvest (1972). For all the lonely boys, trying to make it pay. I thought I loved Neil before this song/record. Shows what thinking will get you.
16. “I’m Not in Love,” 10cc from The Original Soundtrack (1975). In another galaxy, way back in time, I wrote about this song and a friend I had named James. He was/wasn’t in love with another friend of ours, Karen, who was/wasn’t in love with a gay friend of ours named Tony. I used to play this song often, and when I did, I thought about all of them, and that one image of James, crying in his doorway as he listened and realized what he was.
17. “Jessica,” The Allman Brothers Band from Brothers and Sisters (1973). The only instrumental on my list, recorded by the brothers without the essential brother, but Ricard Betts showed his stuff quite nicely. I came late to the Allman’s party, but at least I got there.
And Just For Fun…
18. “It Don’t Come Easy,” Ringo Starr on a single we all had to have back in 1971. With George on guitar, and let’s put to rest right here any notion that Ringo hadn’t paid his dues by singing the blues.
19. “Who’ll Stop the Rain,” Creedence Clearwater Revival from Cosmo’s Factory (1970). My favorite Creedence song, though “Green River” chomps in a close second, but made even better when I heard Bruce cover it in Cincinnati, the last stop on that tour. How could you NOT like this song, I always wondered, even though I knew a few who didn’t. Well, it wasn’t “Smoke on the Water,” for sure.
20. “Thunder Road,” Bruce, from…do I have to spell it out? Couldn’t resist, Paul because I didn’t want to see you crying.
The rain’s coming down, so let me end and see what you all think.
Thanks to Pierce McIntyre for the Plethora of Pop, and all you who read and listen and share the wondering: If Ever You’re Listening, Paul Mansfield, David Acaster, Christopher Robin, Chris Zappa, Steven Hale, Reuben Salsa, Jessica Lee McMillan, Taylor Moran, Karla Clifton, Nicole Brown, Zsófia Vera, Danielle Loewen, Penelope Mayfield, Rui Alves, Jim Mowat, Alexander Briseño, Kevin Alexander, Alex Markham, Keith R. Higgons Sarah Paris, Kathryn Dillon, Jessie Waddell, and Simon Dillon.
And…