You know what I miss? Novelty songs. Not just the typical “Weird Al” parodies, but wholly original works that slipped into the mainstream and became pop hits. Even crap like “The Streak” or “Disco Duck” was amusing on some level. We just don’t have those kind of hits anymore (although “Dick In A Box” has come the closest in recent years). Steve Martin scored big with “King Tut,” but it was his first chart hit in 1977 that’s become Lost in the ’70s.

“Grandmother’s Song” was the single off Steve’s debut album, Let’s Get Small, a record that blew my grade school mind. Small was my introduction to Martin (since I was too young to stay up to watch “Saturday Night Live,” not that I’d be allowed to anyway), and more important, my first exposure to absurdist humor as a legitimate art form. While all children dabble in meaningless jokes, Martin was the first adult I heard making nonsense and making other adults laugh instead of irritated. It was one of those clouds-parting-sunlight-beaming-down moments. (more…)

It’s 1974 and a major milestone occurs in six-year old John Hughes’s life — he gets his weekly allowance, one dollar, for the first time.

That first dollar was precious. It could have been spent on four(!) comic books or some candy or a cheap toy. Instead, young John held on to that dollar until the next time his mother went to Clarkin’s Department Store in Elyria, Ohio. Because that’s where little Johnny knew they sold 45 RPM records for 99¢ each. That weekend, John’s mother drove him to Clarkin’s, where John found that record he wanted so badly, the one he heard on the radio over and over, the one that he finally had enough money to buy.

Only to discover the concept of “sales tax.” The sales clerk rang up the 45 up and said, “That’s $1.04, please.”

I remember that moment as if it just happened. I stood, frozen, not sure what to do since my mother was in the clothing department — she might as well of been miles away. My eyes must have welled up with tears, because the cashier almost immediately realized I didn’t have anything other than that dollar and said, “Oh, that’s okay, honey. Don’t worry about the other five cents,” and handed me a bag with my precious new purchase tucked inside — “Save the Last Dance for Me,” by the DeFranco Family featuring Tony DeFranco. (more…)

Canadian Nick Gilder had a penchant for writing sugary-sweet pop/rock songs about underage hookers/street trash/what have you for a couple of years in the mid-‘70s with Canada’s glam answer to The Sweet, Sweeney Todd. But after scoring a #1 hit and a Juno Award up north in 1975 with the single “Roxy Roller,” Gilder struck out on his own for solo stardom, giving a young 16-year old Bryan Adams his shot as Sweeney Todd’s new lead singer (wonder whatever happened to that Adams kid?).

Gilder’s first solo album came and went with nary a blip, but in 1978, the lead single off his second album, City Nights, changed everything. “Hot Child in the City” hit the top of the charts in the U.S. and Canada — and made the Top Ten in quite a few other territories — making Gilder the one of the hottest new superstars in rock.

Then came follow-up time.

”Here Comes the Night” seemed a natural for City Nights‘ second single. It was written by Gilder and his guitarist James McCulloch, just like “Hot Child in the City.” It was instantly catchy, just like “Hot Child in the City.” It was about hot jailbait, just like “Hot Child in the City.” But it was a flop, not like “Hot Child in the City.”

To this day, I’m confounded by “…Night’s” failure to become a hit. As a admittedly pop-forward-thinking 10-year old, I bought the 45 and wore it out, even more than “Hot Child.” I even held up my little portable cassette player to my stand-alone phonograph and recorded it over and over, so I’d have the song on a nice loop and wouldn’t have to wait for the tone arm to go back and forth before I could hear it again.

This explains much about me.

“Here Comes the Night” peaked at #44 on the Billboard Pop Singles Chart in 1978.

City Nights was recently re-released on CD alongside the next Nick Gilder album Frequency as a two-fer — you can grab them both for a decent price on Amazon