229) Marvin Gaye — âI Got to Get to Californiaâ
From Gaye’s ’69 album M.P.G. that yielded two big hits comes this overlooked gem, which Jack Egan called in Rolling Stone in August of that year “my particular favorite; Marvin again strides through the song, building the intensity as his voice goes through an exquisite range of changes.” Gaye beat Led Zeppelin to the punch (“Going to California” in ’71).
The Mops were Japanâs self-proclaimed first psychedelic band! They formed in 1966 as an instrumental group (like the Ventures) and, then, according to Discogs:
In the summer of 1967 their manager visited San Francisco, and was very excited about the hippie movement. He brought a copy of a Jefferson Airplane album back with him to Japan, which he impressed the Mops with. The band became enthusiastic about the new sounds . . . .
Though, according to Outsider Japanâs version of the Mopsâs origin story:
The Mops were pressured by their manager to become a psychedelic rock band, as he had just returned from a trip to San Francisco and brought back a copy of Jefferson Airplane Takes Off . . . for the band to listen to. . . . [I]n order to sign the deal JVC Records (the Japanese wing of Victor Records) was offering, they would have to do so.
Live, [they] used psychedelic lighting effects and played blindfolded to stimulate themselves to hallucinogenic heights (obtaining LSD was next to impossible in Japan at the time). [They also] experimented in various ways to achieve their psychedelic sounds. However, by the time their first single âAsamade Matenaiâ had charted at the lower end of the Japanese top 40, other bands had caught up with their psychedlic stylings, pushing the Mops to all kinds of ruses in order to substantiate their claim as Japanâs premier psychedelicians â and in drug free Japan, this was not an easy task. Huge lighting rigs began to appear at Mops shows, and flangeing, Wah-way pedals and fuzz boxes saturated their live sounds, while the band themselves grew their hair even longer, adopted granny glasses, and played blind-folded in order to disorientate themselves and stimulate natural psychedlic effects. The Mops not only displayed an amazing adeptness at copying Psychedelia but also 60s American Garage Punk.
The Mops album of April 1968 Psychedelic Sound in Japan [from which todayâs song was taken] was full of flower power flourishes, including cosmic artwork, ethnic clothing, fuzz guitars and sitar playing. . . . . To complete the bandâs hippie vibe, at their album release party they passed out banana peels to journalists.
Richie Unterberger opines in All Music Guide that:
As a whole, the record’s an interesting if flawed relic of a time when Japanese rock was just finding its feet, with a clumsy yet endearingly passionate force.
From the stunning album by the Welsh band named after Dylanâs double LP. Bruce Eder says in All Music Guide that:
The group took part in the Middle Earth Club’s Magical Mystery Tour, which brought them an initial splash of press exposure. They were also fortunate enough to open for the Jefferson Airplane on the latter group’s British tour. . . .
BoB also played at the Isle of Wight Festival (as did Dylan), but they never managed to garner widespread popularity.
Eder notes that their â69 album Contrasts âshowed more of the early but burgeoning influence of progressive rock, while retaining their early psychedelic coloration.â It is from that album that I take BoBâs reimagining of McCartneyâs âEleanor Rigby,â one of the greatest covers of a Beatles song I have ever heard. Not everyone shares my assessment. Vernon Joynson opines that it is â[a]mong the [albumâs] few blatant missteps . . . a needless horn enhanced cover.â However, David Wells notes in the CD reissueâs liner notes that:
[T]he performance that garnered most critical attention was a bold, dramatic reshaping of Eleanor Rigby [demonstrating that] Blonde on Blonde had the requisite blend of artistic nerve and instrumental prowess to compete at the highest levels.
I have taken “The Impossible Years” from songwriter extraordinaire (“For Your Love,” “Evil Hearted You,” and “Heart Full of Soul” for the Yardbirds, “Bus Stop” and “Look Through Any Window” for the Hollies, and “No Milk Today” for Herman’s Hermits) Graham Gouldman’s ’68 album The Graham Gouldman Thing. Dave Thompson in All Music Guide notes that the album is “[l]argely compris[ed of] Gouldman’s own versions of the songs he had written for others, the album (which would be released in America only) was prefaced with a new single, “No Milk Today” . . . . It flopped.” (âhttps://www.allmusic.com/artist/graham-gouldman-mn0000152446/biography) “Impossibleâ was released as a single the prior year by Wayne Fontana.
Let me go out on a limb and dare say that this unreleased gem from a wonderful band from Brighton has quite profound lyrics. The Span started out as a soul band and morphed into psychedelia. They never âmade it.â Vernon Joynson explains:
[T]he BBC invited them to feature in a documentary focusing on the life of a pop group on the way up. What could have been their big break, however, turned out to be a tour de force of unintentional comedy. A Year in The Life: Big Deal Group . . . detailed their increasingly desperate efforts to make it in toe-curling detail. One of the most revealing films ever made about the realities of the music business. . . .
The Tapestry of Delights Revisited
Part of a promo clip for âTimeâ from A Year in The Life:
The A-side of the LA bandâs only single â one of only three singles issued by the label (Gemcor). Richie Unterberger says in All Music Guide that:
Of the many obscure “Louie Louie” ripoffs that have been recorded over the years, “Hold Me Now” is one of the best of them, with a raunchy vocal and blistering guitar break. . . . [It] had little impact, although it was used as part of a McDonald’s commercial.
In honor of song #222, I present the theme song to the beloved TV show (for those of a certain age) Room 222, which aired from â69-â74. As Nostalgia Central describes the series:
Life at Walt Whitman High School â an integrated high school in Los Angeles â as seen through the eyes of . . . a dedicated black American History instructor whose classes were held in Room 222. An optimistic idealist, [he] instilled his students with gentle lessons in tolerance and understanding. The students loved him for his easygoing manner and willingness to side with them when he knew they were being short-changed by the system.
Wow, the Sixties sure were simpler days (though no one thought so at the time!). If there was a reboot today, it would likely be titled Room1619, with the students instilled with lessons in Critical Race Theory and lined up as oppressors or oppressed.
223) The Poets — âThatâs the Way Itâs Got To Beâ
Another stunning song by Scotlandâs own Poets. While it died through underpromotion, the song had the honor of being featured in the cult classic film Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster, which was named the 7th worst movie ever made by the 2004 documentary The 50 Worst Movies Ever Made.
As IMDb describes the movie:
When an atomic war on Mars destroys the planet’s women, it’s up to Martian Princess Marcuzan and her right-hand man Dr. Nadir to travel to earth and kidnap women for new breeding stock. Landing in Puerto Rico, they shoot down a NASA space capsule manned by an android. With his electronic brain damaged, the android terrorizes the island while the Martians raid beaches and pool parties.
“Love may be like summerâs rain, quickly come and gone again. It may last eternally. That’s the way it’s got to be. That’s the way it’s got to be.”
Bring on the funk! Title song from Jimiâs favorite Gypsyâs â70 album (see also #112). It was his highest charting song, reaching #62 in September of â71.
The Birds kill it again (see #33, #99) â and I am not talkinâ Alfred Hitchcock â with this ’66 A-side. The Nuggets II comp opines that:
The Birds give the McCoys’ poppy original a lethal injection of mod aggression’s tough, confident vocals and . . . tremoloed guitar splashes against bashing power cords and an ingenious diving, burbling bass line. It’s a wonderful mix of pop art invention and hooky commerciality, but unfortunately the single bombed.
219) Chris Lucey — âGirl from Vernon Mountainâ
A wonderful, haunting song and, if true, an incredible backstory. Richie Unterberger says in All Music Guide that Chris Lucey was âsomething of a mystery man of mid-’60s folk-rock.â In fact, Lucey was Bobby Jameson, a Sunset Strip folksinger who had turned to rock and roll after the British Invasion. Unterberger calls Lucey’s (as opposed to Jameson’s) only album (’65) — from which today’s song was taken — âan above-average obscurity in the folk-psych-rock tributary.â (https://www.allmusic.com/artist/chris-lucey-mn0000108203) While that may have been something of a left-handed compliment, Dean McFarlane, also in AMG, calls the album a âfantastic obscurityâ and âa sought after psychedelic pop gem from obscure Californian songwriter . . . often compared to Love’s Forever Changes, in that it is an intricate exploration of sophisticated arrangements and bleak and twisted lyricism.â (https://www.allmusic.com/album/songs-of-protest-and-anti-protest-mw0000234704)
Now the proffered backstory. Chris Ducey recorded an album for Surrey Records, which then realized that it couldn’t release because of contractual obligations he had with another label. This put Surrey in a dilemma, because the album was going to spearhead a new budget record label in Europe, and the deal would fall apart if the album wasn’t released (in part, for some reason, because the album cover featured a photo of the Stones’s Brian Jones). The album sleeves had already been printed, and in addition to the Jones photo, they listed the LP’s songs. So Surrey threw a Hail Mary. It came up with the “great” idea of finding another singer-songwriter who would record all-new songs for the album — but songs with the same names as the Ducey songs so that they could use the album sleeves. The artist would have to go by the name Chris Lucey (as the printer could change the D in the name on the cover to an L). Getting desperate to find someone willing to sign up, they found Jameson, who was at the time homeless and penniless. He produced a great set of songs, and when he refused to sign away all rights to the songs and the album, Surrey released it anyway. For his efforts, he was paid a grand total of $200.
No, Klaatu fans, âLord Sitarâ was not George Harrison, rather, session guitar wiz Bill Jim Sullivan (who happened to own a sitar). He and his label were trying to cash in on the sitar craze in â68. Bruce Eder in All Music Guide says that:
âOn one level, it isn’t any better than one would expect from a studio pick-up band doing raga-style covers [but] it does have its odd moments of beauty, such as . . . the sitar subbing for the lead vocal line on Pete Townshendâs âI Can See For Milesâ is worth hearing once, at least.â
The Whispers were actually Warren Schatz, who also went by the Petrified Forest at one point. Schatz went on to become a big disco producer for artists such as Vicki Sue Robinson and Evelyn King. âKnowinââ was his â66 garage classic. Talk about turning the beat around!
Who knew that renowned English actress Susan Hampshire was a wonderful singer? Here is her A-side from July of â65. Per IMDb:
â[H]er role in the 1967 BBC mini-series, The Forsyte Saga . . . made her famous and won her the first of her three Emmy Awards. . . . The First Churchills (1969) . . . was the first series offered on “Masterpiece Theater” and brought her her second Emmy. In 1973, she won her third . . . in Vanity Fair . . . a mini-series that had been released in the UK in 1967.â
216) The La De Das — âHowâs the Air Up Thereâ
The Kiwisâ â66 single was written by songwriters Steve Duboff and Artie Kornfeld and first released in â65 by the Changinâ Times. Kornfeld was the âFather of Woodstockâ and writer of scores of charting singles.
The Rubble comp calls this October of ’67 single by the lads from Yorkshire âstaggering, with monstrous bone-crunching lead guitar and deaths-head voices that swirl out of the mixâ and half of “one of the best two-sided singles of the 60s.” Vernon Joynson similarly notes its âvoices of doom.â (The Tapestry of Delights Revisited) Yup, yup and yup.
214) The Brain Train, âMeâ
The Brain Train morphed into Clear Light, and this, the A-side of their only single (October of â67) is an âastounding psych classic from Californiaâ (per the 30 Seconds Before the Calico Wall comp) with “pulsating psychedelic punk alternat[ing] with monk-like chanting and furious lysergic guitar playing [– t]his one is guaranteed to fry your synapses!” (per Cosmic Mind at Play (https://cosmicmindatplay.wordpress.com/2013/08/10/classic-singles-52-the-brain-train-black-roses-me-1967/)).
I love Oasis to death, but Noel has been known to “borrow.” See, e.g.,
I don’t buy some of the examples in this video “expose,” but you have to be an idiot to hear “How Sweet to Be an Idiot” and not say “wait a second . . . .” The late great Neil Innes wasn’t an idiot, and successfully sued for royalties and co-songwriting credit on âWhatever.â
Now, let’s look at two songs from today’s edition of “now for the songs.” First, Thomas and Richard Frostâs âIf I Can’t Be Your Loverâ and, second, Dick Domaneâs âBad Dream.â
209) Thomas and Richard Frost â âIf I Can’t Be Your Loverâ
Bryan Thomas says that by 1970:
Thomas and Richard Frost had already recorded a handful of classic pop singles for Imperial and Liberty, including “She’s Got Love,” which charted at number 83 on Billboard’s Top 100 singles chart. Each subsequent single was a step further toward what was sure to be their artistic tour de force [but] plans to release [the Visualize] album were inexplicably aborted in the 11th hour by Imperial’s decision-makers, even though the master recordings were already in the can . . . . Imperial was in disarray, and the Frosts were, unfortunately, victimized by what was going on behind the scenes.
Thomas goes on to say that Visualize “turns out to be not just a lost classic from the late ’60s, but a sublime and stunning ‘soft pop’ wonder. ” Yup. The album wasn’t rediscovered and released until 2002.
Richard Frost said that they had to put “If You Won’t Be My Lover,” written by their producer Ted Glasser and singer Vic Dana, on the album as a favor (liner notes to Visualize). Well, it may have been a bigger favor to Noel Gallagher. Knowing Noel, any similarity to “All Around the World” — especially the “la la la la la la” outro — is intentional – except Visualize wasnât released until â02, five years after the release of Be Here Now. Case closed. Or is it?
Here is “All Around the World”:
210) Dick Domane â âBad Dreamâ
I don’t know much about Dick, but he seems to have come from Rhode Island and been in a band called the Blue Jays. “Bad Dream” is from his eponymous ’70 album. It is a stunning song, and sort of sounds like every Oasis song ever recorded. Which Oasis song(s) does it most remind you of? I can find no evidence that Noel had ever listened to this album, but, well, you be the judge.
211) Thomas and Richard Frost â âSheâs Got Loveâ
This super-classic song does not sound like Oasis, but it actually got released in the decade it was recorded – and reached #83 in November of â69.
Richard Frost said that the song was actually the demo, “sweetened” with strings and horns. He went on to say that it “was written about a model we saw in a girlie magazine” who they then happened to see hitchhiking in LA and offered a ride (Visualize liner notes).
Bouncy â67 single by the protege of Paul âLove Is Blueâ Mauriat.
In the song, a young lady is considering getting into a car driven by a not-handsome man because it is cold outside. Suddenly, a taxi arrives and saves her. The “morale: when you’re not very handsome, you have to have a car.” In any event, Uber should scoop up this song for a commercial.
207) The Honeybus— “Black Mourning Band”
Another lovely song by the Honeybus, from the band’s sort of post-breakup ’70 album, which was “not so much released, as escaped: Decca gave it no promotion . . . and hardly surprisingly, it didn’t do any business” (liner notes to the comp Honeybus at Their Best).
208) The Dave Clark 5 â âWhenâ
The DC5âs ballads were criminally underrated, including this â65 album track, which proclaimed âall you need is loveâ two years before the Beatles!
From Chileâs Sgt. Pepperâs. The Rising Storm says that:
[The song] ha[s] what may be strident left-wing political lyrics [but] the vocals are pretty unintelligible, so itâs hard to say whether this is in fact a scathing indictment of United States media control in Chile or just another teenybopper love song.
Vashti is now of course famous for being obscure, for âIâd Like to Walk Around in Your Mindâ and for the Just Another Diamond Day album. But this â66 A-side is equally stunning. And the lyrics were really written by a man Vashti met on a train. Alisdair Clayre was âterribly uncoolâ as she remembers and would leave her poems inside milk bottles (liner notes to Dream Babes Vol. 5).
205) The Scandal — âGirl, Youâre Goinâ Out a My Mindâ
â67 A-side. When compilers as fastidious as the Fading Yellow crew can only say âno info available,â you know this is obscure garage rock!
200) Justine — âShe Brings the Morning with Herâ
Melody Maker called this ’70 A-side âbalm to the ears.â Yup.
Johnkatsmc5 says:
An odd British psych folk band comprised at their peak of three female vocalists and a couple male guitar players . . . American West Coast acid pop combined with rather staid English contemporary folk, and blended with plenty of obvious psych influences. The result was an engaging blend of sounds . . . . The star of the band was American vocalist Laurie Styvers . . . . Justine were short-lived and quickly forgotten, but the band did manage to put out one really charming and intoxicating record, especially if youâre one of those kind of people who love the late sixties/early seventies West Coast pop sound (which of course had more than a little psych sprinkled in it).
If you had Friday on your mind, sorry. This raucous â66 single by the non-Aussies from Australia came first, and as the Nuggets II comp said, to âbrilliant, spine-tingling effect.â
202) Tom Parrott — âHole in the Groundâ
Tom Parrott was a frequent contributor to Broadside Magazine in the 1960s (a key publication of the folk revival, founded in the year I was born and published on a mimeograph machine). “Hole in the Ground” is from his â68 album. In my opinion, it was the best Vietnam War song of the era, neither self-righteous nor bombastic, simply heartbreaking, whatever side you were on or would have been on.
197) West Coast Experimental Pop Art Band — âHelp, Iâm a Rockâ
Mark Deming says that:
â[WCEPAB was o]ne of the more offbeat acts to emerge during the psychedelic era . . . eclectic and ambitious enough to live up to their slightly clumsy moniker, capable of jumping from graceful folk-rock to wailing guitar freakouts to atonal, multilayered, avant-garde compositions at a moment’s notice . . . .â
Another lovely song by Focal Point â the band did no other kind.
199) Please — âSeeing Starsâ
Please starred Peter Dunton (ex-Neon Pearl, the Flies and Gun and later in T2). The Aquarian Drunkard says that:
âAlmost everything about the life and career of Peter Dunton is a little bit hazy. Part of that is due to his âchronic lack of successâ . . . . [He] dabbl[ed] in mildly notable late-â60s psych groups . . . . By far his best work from this time came with the group Please, who languished, failing to release any recordings until Acme started doing so in the late â90s. . . . Seeing Stars[, the compilation album, was] a surprise stunner of organ-driven, hyper-melodic psych-pop. . . . [It] in particular makes it clear just how much of a shame it is that Dunton wasnât able to reach more listeners in his time . . . .â
â68 single by the American band, formed while living in Paris the prior year. The song is an English cover version of Dalidaâs dramatic âDans la Ville Endormieâ and was their biggest success. It was released in the U.S. under the band name Arch of Triumph.
Here is Dalidaâs version:
195) Omega — âGyöngyhajĂș LĂĄnyâ
Yuri German calls Omega âthe most successful Hungarian rock band in history.â (https://www.allmusic.com/artist/omega-mn0001073347/biography) Oh, I thought that honor belonged to György Ligeti. In any event, GyöngyhajĂș lĂĄny” (âThe Girl With Pearls in Her Hairâ) became their first international hit in â69 and was especially popular in Eastern Europe. It was later adapted by the Scorpions and sampled by Kanye West (the latter leading to a legal settlement).
In the â90âs, the Scorpions transformed it into “White Doveâ:
196) Ola and the Janglers — âThatâs Why I Cryâ
This was a â67 B-side in the UK by the Stockholm band. Guitarist Claes af Geijerstam was later in Nova, which won the Swedish part of the Eurovision song contest in 1973, beating out ABBA!
The Philosopher of Soul pours some soul into Herbie Hancock’s composition on this track from his ’67 album. Alex Henderson says that “[a]dding lyrics [to] Herbie Hancockâs ‘Watermelon Man,’ Taylor removes the song’s jazz elements and turns it into pure Southern R&B.â (https://www.allmusic.com/album/wanted-one-soul-singer-mw0000674917)
192) The Paupers — âThink I Careâ
’67 single by the Canadian band, once hyped by Albert Grossman as the next Beatles, was at least a decade ahead of its time. It would have been a big hit for the ’77-79 Talking Heads.
Single version:
Album version:
193) The Eyes — âWhen the Night Fallsâ
’65 single, the first by the West London band. Richie Unterberger says that the Eyes’s âclutch of singles . . . stand up to the Whoâs work from the same era in their blend of extremely innovative guitar feedback/ distortion and anthemic mod songwriting.â (https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-eyes-mn0000060128/biography)