Welcome back, mellow miners! You know, being the wimpiest guy on Popdose is not an easy job, but I do it for you and wusses across the universe. And part of the job is exposing to you (wait, that doesn’t read right) all different kinds of songs that fall into the Mellow Gold category. Sometimes, like Mang, they’re wordless — and last time we got together, we discussed Greg Guidry’s “Goin’ Down,” a song that wasn’t really mellow in terms of its lyrical content, but in its musical style. This week, I figure we’ll go the other way and see what happens: let’s take apart a song that may not be so mellow musically, but really has it goin’ on in the lyrics department.

Andy Kim — Rock Me Gently (download)

IT’S BUILT RIGHT INTO THE GODDAMN TITLE! My work here is done, everybody! Thanks, and see you next time for another Adventure…nah, I kid. But seriously? “Rock Me Gently“? Well, hang on. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Let’s take a look at Lebanese dreamboat Andy Kim.

Damn you, Google image search!

Ahh, there we are. Andy, you handsome motherfucker. I don’t know what or who you’re looking at, but I bet they have no idea they’re about to get swallowed up by your hair.

Andy Kim was born as Androwis Jovakim in Montreal in 1952. At the age of 16, he moved to New York to pursue a music career, changed his name to mask his Lebanese background (though those eyebrows aren’t fooling anyone), and signed to Steed Records, owned by Jeff Barry. Before his 17th birthday, he had written and recorded “How’d We Ever Get This Way,” which gets props from me mainly because it’s a pop song with the word “how’d” in it. It’s such an awkward word! In fact, it’s so awkward that it remains the last song with the word “how’d” in it to make the Billboard Top 100. (Bring that up at your next cocktail party and see who still wants to talk to you.) Anyway, the song just missed the Top 20, peaking at #21, but no matter — Andy soldiered on and released a cover of the Ronettes’ “Baby, I Love You” (co-written by Barry), which hit #9 in June of ’69. That same year, Kim teamed up with Barry to write a cute lil’ pop song called “Sugar, Sugar” which, of course, has kept Kim in only the finest of shampoos and conditioners for the past 40 years.

Andy scored another solid hit with his 1970 cover of “Be My Baby,” which reached #13. Shortly after, though, the Steed label went under, as did Kim’s career. Though he had racked up some successful hits, he wasn’t exactly well-known; he told Billboard that he felt his looks belied the sound of his voice, especially since many of his songs were sped up for the pre-teen market. He claims he “went over best with their mothers who brought them to the shows.” I can totally relate. Jeff’s mother was at my last gig.

With no record label interested in signing him, Kim used some of that good, old-fashioned Canadian-Lebanese ingenuity and started his own label, Ice Records. In 1974, he wrote and recorded “Rock Me Gently.” One of the old Steed promoters heard it, and brought it to his new bosses at Capitol. The label signed him, and three months after its release, “Rock Me Gently” hit #1. Kim believed in the song so much that he included “Rock Me Gently, Pt. 2,” an instrumental version, on his eponymous album that year.

So as I mentioned, you’re not going to find Mellow Gold in the musical content of “Rock Me Gently.” It’s a nifty little pop number that even kind of rocks from time to time, which is what makes the lyrical content so amusing to me. Let’s just start with the chorus, because that’s really the mellow part.

Rock me gently
Rock me slowly
Take it easy, don’t you know
That I have never been loved like this before

Remember these words, friends. You’re going to hear them a lot.

As I hinted before, I love the idea of “rock me gently.” I want to know exactly what Kim means by this phrase. (I also want to know why he has two first names, and why he teamed up with a writer who also had two first names, but he’s not answering my phone calls.) Is he talking about rocking as in physically rocking, like rocking someone back and forth? I don’t think so. So I’m left to assume that he’s talking about rocking. Y’know, rockin’. Groovin’. Gettin’ dowwwwn. That kind of thing. But how do you rock someone gently? Or slowly? Then you’re not rocking anymore. You’re doing something else. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not rocking. But it’s Mellow Gold artists that are always pulling shit like this: Rock me, baby, but do it all nice-like! Go easy on me! Handle me with kid gloves! I am a eunuch!

So I don’t find that this chorus makes much sense. But it completely fits in with the rest of the song, which contains some of the dumbest lyrics imaginable. (I’d like to take a second and imagine the smoke coming out of Jon Cummings‘ ears, who I’m pretty sure sings this song to himself on a daily basis.) Let’s take a look at these lyrics. Much like Kim’s request for rocking, we’ll start off gently. And slowly.

Ain’t it good
Ain’t it right
That you are with me
Here tonight
The music playin’
Our bodies swayin’ in time
(In time, in time, in time)

So far, Andy Kim has proved himself an expert of rhyme. Or a moron of rhyme, I’m not sure which. No, wait, it’s moron. There’s no reason for “Ain’t it right.” You’ve already expressed this sentiment in the line before. But “right” and “tonight” is a no-brainer, so we go for it. I’m not denying Kim’s talents as a songwriter (I happen to love “Sugar, Sugar”), but I can’t imagine much thought went into this. The first time I heard this song, I was taken aback by the monkey-at-a-typewriter quality of this first section. So what’s next?

Touching you
So warm and tender

At this point, I actually said to myself, “He’s going to say ‘sweet surrender.’ I’m sure of it.”

Lord, I feel such a sweet surrender

No, please, don’t praise me. I’m not a genius. You would’ve thought the exact same thing.

Beautiful is the dream that makes you mine

Okay, I like that line for whatever reason. But now, Andy’s run out of lyrics. So what does he do? He takes the chorus lyrics but sings ‘em as a verse first. Then he makes it a chorus. And the chorus is actually good enough that you almost forget that he cut corners just before it.

But uh-oh. We can’t end the song here. We need more lyrics! Quick, Andy, whatcha got?

Oh m’darlin’
Oh m’baby

No, no, NO! So lazy! And speaking of lazy, I totally know what word you’re rhyming with baby.” It’s “crazy.” I know it.

You got the moves that drive me crazy

Uh-huh. Just as I suspected. What I like about this line, though, is that Kim makes “crazy” three syllables. “Cray-zeah-uhh.” I wish Andy and Cher would do a duet together. (No, I don’t.)

And on your face I see a trace of love
(Of love, of love, of love)

Well, obviously the girls were going to show up to repeat that line; they showed up in the same section before. Why make any part of this song, y’know, unpredictable?

Come hold me close
Don’t let me go
I need you, honey
I love you so
You were made for me by the stars above

And just like before, we’ve got four lowest-common-denominator lines followed by an actual thoughtful lyric. How do you do it, Andy? It’s like he saves the best lines for this one section, then figures he can take a break…’cause here comes the chorus-as-verse once again. It’s followed by two choruses, a reprise of “Ain’t it good/Ain’t it right/That you are with me/Here tonight” (which I’m convinced was included just to taunt people like me who take this song way too seriously), and two more choruses. Anybody looking for something deeper is going to walk away disappointed.

So let’s review. All of the lyrics in the verses are saying “I love you, you’re awesome, you do all these wonderful things to me,” followed my a chorus that says ” But I’m so frightened by your love and your awesomeness and all the wonderful things you do to me, so please! Take this very slow! Let’s just peck for a while!” It’s a Mellow Gold sentiment for sure, but it kind of comes out of nowhere; there’s nothing in the verse that suggests the guy’s a wuss. It doesn’t really fit. And initially, I thought: Well, Andy Kim’s not very clever. But then I thought otherwise; see, Andy knows that in most pop songs, the verses really don’t matter. (Which part of Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” do you know better: the verses, or the “shoulda put a ring on it” part?) That’s exactly why he’s asking us to rock him gently seven times in just under three-and-a-half minutes. Andy’s free to be as predictable and simple as he wants in the verse, ’cause the chorus is where it’s at. And that’s why total cheeseballs like Jon Cummings and myself will listen to it again. And again. And again.

So what happened to Andy Kim after “Rock Me Gently”? Well, he started touring for reals, and recorded a number of awkward promotional videos like this one, featuring him rocking gently (and awkwardly) all by his lonesome. Go on and groove with your bad self, Andy! Love your slacks! And I also love the close-ups of his face, where he doesn’t look like he really knows what the hell is going on.

And check out this one, which adds a crowd and an overeager camera effects guy:

With the exception of ’74′s “Fire, Baby I’m On Fire,” which I think works better as “Fire! Baby, I’m On Fire!!”, Kim’s follow-up singles failed to make much of a dent in the chart, and he disappeared from the music scene. He re-emerged five years later, inexplicably billed as “Baron Longfellow.”

Here’s what I love about this album cover: I truly believe that Kim thought the sunglasses were going to fool everyone. This album is probably why Garth Brooks decided to wear a bad wig as Chris Gaines.

“Longfellow” released albums in 1984 and 1991, and essentially left the business once again. These were clearly dark years for Andy. He pretty much stayed at home, working dutifully on his era-appropriate mullet.

In 1995, Kim was playing a festival along with the Barenaked Ladies, and struck up a friendship with BNL guitarist Ed Robertson. Robertson eventually convinced him to re-enter the business (but with none of this Baron Longfellow bullshit), and co-wrote/produced a song for him in 2004 entitled “I Forgot To Mention.” The song reached #10 on the Canadian charts, and suddenly, Kim was back. He’s been inducted into the Hit Parade Hall of Fame, which is not something I’m at all familiar with, but I’m sure it’s prestigious. Next month, he’ll release Happen Again, a new album that hopefully will not feature “Rock Me Gently 2010.” You can find out more information on his MySpace page, where you can hear “Happen Again” and “I Forgot To Mention” (which, unsurprisingly, totally sounds like an Ed Robertson song) and view clips of Kim with other Canadian heroes (Alex Lifeson on “Rock Me Gently”! Ron Sexsmith on “How’d We Ever Get This Way”!). Soon, he’ll tour Canada, where millions of people will sing along to “Rock Me Gently” and conveniently forget the inane verse lyrics and mellow sentiments in the chorus. Which I guess is okay with me. Maybe, in a way, none of us have ever been loved like this before. I have no idea what that means.

Thanks so much for reading and we’ll see you here soon for another Adventure Through the Mines of Mellow Gold!

Welcome back to another edition of the wimpiest series on Popdose, Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold! Last time we met, we covered a wonderful, wordless song — well, mostly wordless, unless you count Mang’s 1982 version or my highly superior recording with kick-ass lyrics. This week’s song might as well be wordless because, frankly, the actual lyrics don’t matter. What is important, however, is the tone of the lyrics, which — combined with the music — will go to prove that the handsome man in the miner’s hat is not only the Patron Saint of Popdose, but the Patron Saint of Mellow Gold altogether; his influence spreads over all the best Mellow Gold artists like a bad case of gonorrhea, and inspires them not only to be their Mellow Goldiest, but to pay the Mellow Gold forward. And what better day to do it than today, February 12 — which, as my buddy Matt Wardlaw pointed out in his excellent Ticket Stub series, is Michael McDonald’s birthday! Happy birthday, Michael! My birthday present to you is that I promise not to call you at midnight in celebration like I did last year. And the year before. You’ll just have to console yourself with Matt’s greeting cards.

Okay, on to the wimpy music!

Greg Guidry — Goin’ Down (download)

I know, I know: Who? Well, I’ll tell you, but first I’ll answer the question that many New Yorkers might have right now: no, Greg is not related to Ron Guidry, legendary pitcher for the New York Yankees. (And believe it or not, I knew who Ron was without even having to look it up!) He is, however, related to just about every other Guidry: his debut album featured his siblings Sandy, Cathie, Randy, Tito and Marlon.

Guidry (shown here making a call to a phone sex hotline) grew up in St. Louis, playing in various high school and college bands. At 23, he signed a songwriter deal with CBS, like many Mellow Gold artists at the time. In 1982, Guidry released his solo debut Over the Line, and in March of ’82 “Goin’ Down” reached #17. A second single, a duet with his sister Sandy entitled “Into My Love,”didn’t get any higher than #92 — most likely because it’s a song called  “Into My Love” sung WITH HIS SISTER.

While Guidry remained in the music business as a songwriter and occasional backing vocalists for bands such as the Allman Brothers, he didn’t record a follow-up to Over the Line until 2000, the horribly-named Soul’d Out — and, of course, it includes an updated version of “Goin’ Down,” recorded in a lower key and sounding like a wedding band cover. (No, I will not offer it for download. Buy it for $1.29 at iTunes if you dare.) Guidry died in a fire in 2003; according to Wikipedia, “His charred body was found in a car parked in his garage in Fairview, Tennessee. His death was ruled a suicide.” Yeesh. Did it suddenly get all uncomfortable in here?

So now you know more than you ever thought you would about Greg Guidry. Let’s talk about “Goin’ Down.” Lyrically, I’m sure you all can imagine how disappointed I was to find out that this song had nothing to do with oral sex. No, I can only speculate that Mr. Guidry is actually talking about falling in love with someone dangerous…or at least that’s what I get from the mysterious groove of the song and the first two lines:

I get the feeling that I’m in way over my head
I should be careful but I’m going deeper instead

Wait a minute, maybe this song is about oral sex!

The only problem is that the lyrics don’t support the whole “dangerous woman” theory past those two lines; Guidry just focuses on her awesomeness, resorting to to clichés like “she lights a fire in my soul” and “a fool could drown in her eyes.” Now, normally, I’d be irritated by this lack of commitment to a clear theme. But as I said before, the lyrics don’t matter. It’s all about the music. In fact, it’s so much about the music that I swear to you, I listened to this song upwards of ten times before I paid one lick of attention to the lyrics in the second verse. And it was a vicious cycle, too: I’d say “okay, I’m really gonna listen this time,” zone out with the song’s groove, and then suddenly realize I was into the guitar solo. Then I’d get all pissed at myself and repeat the cycle. Who gets this upset with themselves over Greg Guidry? This guy.

Enough with the lyrics — let’s get to the music. We start, of course, with just bass and keyboards — no guitar, as it should be in a Mellow Gold hit. (If you dare to utilize a guitar in this genre, it had better be acoustic, or buried deep in the mix. Or both.) So we’re off to a very McD start, no? The song immediately evokes the opening of Herb Alpert’s “Rise,” adding a little vibraslap and some synthesized strings, getting us all mellow in that lounge-suit lizard kind of way. Can’t you just see a guy in a suit with a huge collar — Dave Mason, maybe? — chest hair flowin’ in the breeze, big gold medallion around his neck, thrusting his pelvis around? No? Just me? Damn my smooth overactive imagination.

Remember I said that the lyrics don’t matter, but tone does? Listen to the backing vocals on “I wanna run by her side.” That’s Guidry singing, but is that totally McD infleunced or what? I challenge you to sing these backing vocals and not do a Michael McDonald impression. But wait! There’s more! Check out the chorus. Holy crap, right? Listen to that falsetto! Guidry is a thief! Not a Dupree-level thief, but a thief nonetheless.

Musically, the second verse is exactly the same as the first. I can’t speak to any lyrical similarities, since — as I mentioned — I haven’t been paying attention. I will note that I could swear he’s saying “Her secret passion’s got me chummed, I’ll never get free.” He’s actually saying “charmed,” but I’m not hearing the “r” sound, so I’m just thinking about him vomiting all over her. Now that’s the kind of move a Mellow Gold artist would pull! And it’s only after the second chorus that the guitars are allowed into the mix — we have a guitar solo that was probably described at the time as “searing hot.” As far as I know, a video was never made for “Goin’ Down,” but if there had been one, this would be the scene where he succumbs to the passion of the woman he’s been adoring for the past two minutes. And you know it happens in some seedy apartment where there’s a blinking neon sign right outside the fire escape. (Again, my smooth overactive imagination rears its wimpy head.)

And so the solo ends, we’re back into a chorus, and I simply cannot stop thinking about Michael McDonald. He really should be singing the backing vocals here. With a song this smooth, it’s a no-brainer, right? In fact, forget the backing vocals — he should be singing the lead vocal as well. What song isn’t improved by Michael McDonald, other than that stupid Grizzly Bear song? (Actually, it is indeed improved by McD. I just wanted to tell Grizzly Bear to go suck a dick.) Somehow, Guidry must have been directly influenced by the man in some way or another. (Could this be a more obvious setup?)

From Wikipedia:

“Born Gregory M. Guidry, in St. Louis, Missouri, he played piano and sang gospel as a child, and sang in a band with future Doobie Brother Michael McDonald as a teenager.”

IT HAS BEEN PROVEN. All bow down and worship Him!

But wait — that’s not all! Remember how I mentioned Guidry’s songwriting contract with CBS? Well, during that time, he wrote songs for England Dan & John Ford Coley, Climax Blues Band, Exile, and Robbie Dupree. Do you see? Michael McDonald not only influenced Greg Guidry’s musical style, but also inspired him to share his gift of wussitude with other Mellow Gold artists. Thank you, Mr. McDonald — and thank you, Greg Guidry, for your honorable contribution to the genre. Although you left this world too soon, we’re confident you’re relaxing up in Mellow Gold heaven, most likely writing emasculating hymns with Dan Fogelberg and Randy VanWarmer.

Thanks for goin’ down reading, and see you soon for another edition of Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold!

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• Ticket Stub: Michael McDonald in Los Angeles, December ’85 (popdose.com)

Welcome back to another edition of Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold! It’s been way too long since we’ve done our wussy spelunking through smooth instruments and gentle vocals. But today, friends, we won’t be doing much singing. Okay, maybe there will be some singing at the end of this post, but for now, we’re going to explore a different side of this genre: the Mellow Gold instrumental.

Chuck Mangione — Feels So Good (edit) (download)

You kinda knew this was coming, didn’t you? There are only a few true Mellow Gold instrumentals — and no, “Baker Street” doesn’t count, because it has lyrics (even if nobody remembers ‘em) — but “Feels So Good” is perhaps the smoothest and mellowest of them all. There are plenty of reasons why, too — but first, let’s learn a little bit about Chuck Mangione, the man who clutches his flügelhorn so intently that I believe he’s nicknamed it “Mommy.”

Chuck Mangione — known around Popdose as the Mang — was born and raised in Rochester, NY, home to luminaries such as Lou Gramm, Steve Gadd (an eventual collaborator), Wendy O. Williams and Rosalie Hale. (If you know who Rosalie Hale is, congratulations, you’ve just been outed as a Twilight fan.) Mangione began his career as part of the Jazz Brothers, a group formed with his brother, Gap Mangione, as well as his two cousins, Benetton Mangione and Express for Men Mangione. (I’m making a funny, but Gap is indeed the name of his brother, meaning I’m now obligated to call him Gap Mang, which will also be the name of my next band.)

Mangione stayed true to his Western New York roots, attending the prestigious Eastman School of Music after high school and later leading the school’s Eastman Jazz Ensemble. Throughout this early stage of his career, he released albums with the Jazz Brothers as well as with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, where he held the coveted trumpet seat. He went on to record a number of solo albums and earned Grammy nominations for many of them, winning a 1975 Best Instrumental Composition Grammy for “Bellavia,” named after his mother. Is anybody else imagining this poor family’s Christmas cards? “Happy holidays from Bellavia, Chuck and Gap — The Mangs.” (I don’t know Chuck’s dad’s name, but I’m going with Pappy, because “Pappy Mang” is also a great band name.)

In 1977, Mang released Feels So Good. Clocking in at 9:40, the title track was too long for radio, but a 3:28 edit was a complete smash, reaching #4 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #1 on the Easy Listening charts. It was also nominated for a 1979 Grammy for Record of the Year, losing out to “Just the Way You Are.” (Don’t feel bad, Mang — Gerry Rafferty lost too.)

There’s more to his career, of course, but this is where we’re stopping for now. It’s time for all of us to bow down at the Mang’s feet and praise “Feels So Good.” And why should we worship it? Because the song has emotion built right into the title. It feels so good, dammit, and when you listen to this song, you had better feel so good too, or else Chuck Mangione is going to knock your teeth out with his horn. And don’t think you can get away with feeling just a little good or sort of good. The Mang is demanding you feel so good. Demanding! You have no choice. Imagine listening to “Bluer Than Blue” and feeling…I don’t know, periwinkler than periwinkle. Or listening to “I Go Crazy” and feeling just a little anxious. Or if you merely experienced casual enjoyment of a rainy night instead of absolutely loving it. Or if moonlight just felt passable. I can do this all day, people.

And why shouldn’t you feel so good, anyway? Listen to this music. The Mang has essentially set up three separate, yet equally catchy melodies here.

Theme #1: Follow the Mellow Brick Road

Forget all the opening stuff; this is the meat-and-potatoes of the song. Listen to Mang lay that sweet shit down, with his flügelhorn gently guiding us down the Mellow Gold path. The drums are barely noticeable, and there’s an even quiter guitar in the left channel — but in the right channel, it’s a wah-wah carnival. I believe that this is Mang foreshadowing Theme 2, which I’ve titled…

Theme #2: Flügelporn, aka Slap That Ass

This theme is titled as such because when I used to listen to it in my office, this is the point where my officemate and I would make big, broad motions like we were slappin’ that ass. The Mang’s getting funky now and is demanding the same of his band; it’s as if the bassist had taking a lil’ nap in the studio and Mang suddenly stuck electrodes on his nipples to shock him awake. And there’s not just a little bass, either; we’re talking heavy, slappin’ porno bass. Awesome. This leads us into the second flügelhorn theme. (Anybody else getting tired of those pretentious little umlauts? And why isn’t “umlaut” spelled “ümlaut”? Seems like a missed opportunity there.) Anyway, the flügelhorn is echoed by the saxophone. The guitarist is still wah-wah-ing all over the goddamn place. Now, Mang runs over and puts the electrodes (possibly the same ones, possibly different) on the drummer’s nipples, and we get a nice little syncopated lead into the next theme. And if you’re wondering what the hell is up with me and this electrode/nipple theme, there’s no time to explain. On to Theme 3!

Theme 3: I Don’t Have a Clever Name For This Theme But I Love It Anyway

Love it. This may be my favorite of the three themes. The drummer punctuates each note with his high hat. The flügelhorn goes up. The bass goes down. The cow goes moo. The sax goes…eh, who cares what the sax is doing? This is a flügelhorn joint, son!

That’s pretty much the end of the song, thematically, but Mang is a generous musician, so he allows guitarist Grant Geissman to take a stab at each of the themes. In Theme 1, Geissman comes dangerously close to crossing the line over to full smooth jazz. (If you listen to the tone of the guitar, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.) Luckily, he gets a little funkier with Themes 2 and 3, ripping into a truly, truly awesome solo. Then it’s back to Mang with a repeat of the main themes, and we’re out.

You may notice that this final paragraph is referring to the edited version of “Feels So Good.” That’s because up until a few years ago, that’s all I knew. I was so naïve (frickin’ umlauts again), thinking I only had 3:28 in which to feel so good. But then I met Jeff Giles, a man who, upon hearing that I was attempting such complex emotions in under three-and-a-half minutes, opened my ears and soul by sending me the full, unedited version. Some speculate that this is the only reason I remain friends with Jeff today. I can neither confirm nor deny, but I’m taking the love that he shared with me and sharing it with you now, here on Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold. See you in ten minutes!

Chuck Mangione — Feels So Good (full, neverending version) (download)

Now, I can’t speak for you, but here are the scope of my thoughts while listening to the unedited version of “Feels So Good.”

0:00 I’m so excited to have the unedited version of “Feels So Good”!
0:02 Oh, he’s introducing the first theme very slowly and deliberately. Nice.
0:37 Hey, I like the guitar! This is pretty!
0:51 Wait a minute, he’s going to do this with the second theme, too? Is that necessary?
1:16 This is self-indulgent.
1:28 I need a nap.

And that’s just the first minute and a half. The song then goes into the version we’ve heard on the radio, but after the themes are introduced, it’s solo central. After Geissman, we get a solo from Chris Vidala on the sax, then it’s back to Geissman. Geissman passes it back to Mang! Mang throws it to Vidala! They solo at the same time! They give the finger to Charles Meeks on bass and James Bradley, Jr. on drums, who don’t get solos! And then…the song fades out. What the hell, Mang? Nine minutes and 40 seconds and you fade out? What the shit is that?

So here’s the thing: while I do agree with Popdose writer Jason Crane that “Feels So Good” totally kicks ass, I’m suddenly not so sure I need almost ten minutes of this song. The performances are phenomenal, yes, but at some point, I’m just done. Your mileage may vary, though, and if you’re a staunch advocate of a Feels So Goodathon, then I strongly suggest picking up Jason’s favorite Mangione album, An Evening Of Magic: Live At The Hollywood Bowl — where you’ll get not one, but two versions of “Feels So Good”: nine minutes at the beginning and three at the end. And thankfully, neither version becomes the car wreck featured at the one minute mark below. And here I thought only singers wussed out of high notes!

Speaking of singers, here’s something I bet you didn’t know: “Feels So Good” actually has lyrics! It’s true. They’re really easy to remember, and I guarantee that once you hear them, they’ll be a part of your song experience forever. Here, sing along with me.

Feels So Good — Awesome Lyrics Version

What do you think? Totally kick-ass, right? You’re welcome.

In all seriousness, there are actually lyrics to “Feels So Good.” Mang sang them himself on his 1982 album 70 Miles Young, a tribute to his father who is actually called Papa on this website! I was so close! (Oh, and the album can be yours for a mere $200!) The lyrics aren’t that great, and I sure as hell hope they’re not directed at his father (I think I heard a line about “let’s make love along the way”), but I actually find this version quite pretty. Enjoy this version, taken from a vinyl rip — sorry about the pops n’ crackles. And for those of you who have heard just about enough “Feels So Good” today, you can skip to 2:00, where the vocals begin.

Chuck Mangione — Feels So Good (Vocal) (download)

So what’s the Mang up to today? Well, after the success of “Feels So Good,” he toured and released a number of albums (including this one), and was even honored with A Salute to Chuck Mangione, a television special hosted by Dick Clark. In 1989, he retired from the music business, only to return in 1994, supposedly after Dizzy Gillespie’s death. Mang continues to record and tour today, and he’s managed to stay relevant thanks to his role as “Chuck Mangione” on King of the Hill, playing “Feels So Good” at every turn (though sadly not in this clip).

And that brings us to the end of another Adventure Through the Mines of Mellow Gold! Thanks for reading and we’ll see you back here soon!

I don’t need to get into details as I did on my previous blog several years ago.  You can read that post if you’d like.  But again, “What A Fool Believes” is the greatest song ever written.

I have always wondered, in fact, why there haven’t been more blog posts dedicated to this magnificent song, in all its glory.  Seems like it’s just me and Stereogum.  Either way, here are seven different versions of “What A Fool Believes,” in the order that I dig ‘em.  This post is dedicated to my wife, who now hates this song more than anything else in the entire world.

The Doobie Brothers – What A Fool Believes

From Minute By Minute Amazon iTunes

Can’t beat the original.

I saw an interview with Michael McDonald recently where he mentioned he’d been fooling around with the riff for ages, without a song to attach it to.  Ted Templeman, who was producing the Doobies at the time, kept encouraging McDonald to use it somewhere, often exclaiiming “that’s a hit!”  Now, I don’t know much about Ted Templeman.  But I do believe that Ted Templeman is a frickin’ genius.

Kenny Loggins – What A Fool Believes (Live)

From Alive Amazon iTunes

I don’t know if you can necessarily call this a cover, considering that Kenny Loggins co-wrote the song.  But after the original, this is my favorite version: it retains some of the original’s flavor, but gives it a completely different spin by adding horns, a few chord changes, and some nice ad-libs.  BTW, I saw Kenny Loggins in concert recently, and while he did play all of his greatest hits, he did not play this one.  I hate you, Kenny.

NOTE: There is also a Loggins/Mcdonald duet version of this song from Kenny Loggins’ Outside: From the Redwoods album.  I did not include it here and I do not recommend listening to it, as it has been stripped of its balls.

Self – What A Fool Believes

From Gizmodgery (available on expensive import at Amazon)

Scott at Stereogum coined this his favorite cover song of all time.  I don’t think it’s my favorite, but it’s up there.  This song, like all the others on Gizmodgery, is performed entirely on toy instruments.

Aretha Franklin – What A Fool Believes

From Aretha Franklin Greatest Hits Amazon

As always, Aretha takes a song and makes it her own.  It’s not my favorite version, but what was I going to do – NOT put Aretha on here?  Plus, it has that double-clap thing.  Clap clap!

The M People – What A Fool Believes

From Best of M People Amazon

I’m lukewarm on this version.  But it’s a dance version, so dance up if you’re into that sort of thing.  Dancing.

Matt Bianco – What A Fool Believes

From Samba In Your Casa (currently unavailable)

Great opening.  The rest of the song is fairly typical, but those horns are a welcome addition.

The Doobie Brothers – What A Fool Believes (live)

From Rockin’ Down The Highway: The Wildlife Concert Amazon

This is a fairly tame version of the song – the kind that most bands do when they reunite for a nostalgia tour – but you gotta give Mike McD props for hitting most of those notes almost 20 years later.  Didn’t even change the key like some people we know.

There you have it: seven different versions of one of the biggest (and best) earworms of all time.  Enjoy.

(Believe it or not, I have at least three more versions of this song: the Kenny/Michael duet mentioned elsewhere in this post (as stated, no balls), a live bootleg version from ’91 by George Michael (brings nothing to the table), and a version from Australian Idol 2 (ditto).  I am still looking for versions by Peter Cox (former lead singer of Go West), and Shane Richie.  If you find the Claressa Monteiro version, you can keep it.  I heard a 30 second sample on one of the European iTunes stores and that was enough.)

Or, alternately:

Awful news, everybody! Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold is back!

The point is: like it or not, we’re back and planning on bringing you more of the lamest, pansy-assiest music from that magical period in the ’70s and ’80s when everybody seemed to misplace their nutsacks.  My hope is to do this once a month (after doing weekly MG postings in ’07, I found I could no longer sustain an erection), and now that I’ve written it on the Internet, it must be true, right?

Anyway, so away we go!  Let’s see.  I have a nice big Mellow Gold playlist here on iTunes.  I’ll just close my eye and point my mouse at a track, and…

Aw, shit.  Nigel Olsson? What the hell is he doing on here?  Isn’t he just the guy who plays drums in Elton John’s band with the headphones and white gloves and looks like the spawn of David Cassidy and the Cryptkeeper?

Okay, I looked back, and it seems like we can blame a reader named John Anselmo for today’s post, as he suggested Olsson’s one song that cracked the Top 20.  Let me see if I can find his address and we can torch his house.  Kidding, kidding.  Actually, I will defend John’s suggestion, because the song in question fits quite well into the Mellow Gold genre (did we decide if Mellow Gold was a genre?).  It fits so well, actually, that I often hear it, think “this is perfect for Mellow Gold,” promptly forget about it, and then repeat the process.  Wussy, yet utterly forgettable?  I don’t think it could be any more appropriate for this series.

Before we start, though, how about a bit of background on Mr. Olsson?  No?  Too bad. I promise to make it short, though.  Olsson is best known for his drum work with Elton John, having made his first appearance on “Lady, What’s Tomorrow” from Elton’s debut Empty Sky in 1969.  He hasn’t been Elton’s consistent drummer, though; Elton used different drummers from 1975 to 1980 and again throughout the mid-’80s and ’90s.  Since 2000, though, Olsson has been a consistent member of the band both on stage and in the studio, playing drums as well as handling occasional backing vocals.

Still, there were quite a few periods there where Nigel’s services weren’t required by Elton.  (I leave it to you to determine what kind of “services” Elton “requires.”)  So what did he do during those periods?  Well, he played with a few other bands, for starters, including the Spencer Davis Group, Uriah Heep and Hookfoot.  I don’t know who or what Hookfoot is, but it sounds painful.  He also played drums for a few Mellow Gold artists, including as Neil Sedaka (havin’ my babeh!), Leo Sayer and Barbie Benton, who may not be an actual MG artist but gets a mention here because I could have sworn she was a pornstar.  (I just looked it up — she was Hefner’s girlfriend in the ’70s.  I was close.)  And, as I’m sure a certain Popdose staff member might chime in, he was part of the backing band for Michael Dinner’s (who?) album Tom Thumb the Dreamer, which included Bill Champlin and, yes, David Foster.  (David Foster has replaced Michael McDonald as the patron saint of Popdose. I hate you, Terje.)

Olsson also recorded a number of solo albums.  His 1971 debut solo effort was titled Nigel Olsson’s Drum Orchestra and Chorus, which is a slightly fancier way of titling the album Don’t Buy Me.  I guess we should give the man credit, though; it’s not like you could buy the album and be like, “Drum orchestra and chorus?  What the shit?”  I actually have no idea what a “drum orchestra and chorus” sounds like, but I’ve thought about it and I’m okay with it remaining a complete mystery.

His 1975 follow-up album, Nigel Olsson, fared about as well as the one with the drum orchestra and chorus: no success at all.  At this point, Olsson should have realized that maybe he’d be better off removing his name from the albums, because clearly it wasn’t helping his cause.  So in 1978, he released — wait for it — Nigel Olsson.  I’m not kidding.  Two consecutive unsuccessful albums with the same name.

A year later, Olsson finally decided to change his formula.  1979′s release was called — wanna guess? — Nigel.  I’m slamming my head on the desk here.

Even Elton looked at this cover and said, “That’s gay.”

But I guess persistence pays off: Nigel actually yielded a hit or two.  This may be due to the fact that it features production by none other than the late, mellow Paul Davis.  Or maybe radio agreed to play a couple of tracks as long as Olsson stopped using his name in the album titles.  Either way, “Dancin’ Shoes,” the track we’re discussing today (took me long enough, right?), reached #18 on the Billboard Top 40 in late January of 1979.

Let’s listen, shall we?

Nigel Olsson — Dancin’ Shoes (download)

Oooh, listen to that soft opening!  So soft!  So smooth! So Fogelbergy! (New adjective.)  But then, just like that, we’re whisked into a gentle rhythm that is making me think less about “Dancin’ Shoes” and more about Walter Egan’s “Magnet and Steel” or, even worse, the Eagles’ cover of Tom Waits’ “Ol’ 55.”  As is typical with most Mellow Gold songs, the guitar is given short shrift over drums and bass (especially drums — I wonder why?), light strings and, of course, those sweet backing vocals.  This song could be completely a capella and would still be a MG classic with those backing vocals.

But what is Nigel talking about, anyway?

Too many long conversations
And no one is hearing a word

Which, by the way, is what happens when you release four albums with your name in the title, but whatever.

Just trying to escape the frustrations
Till a song in the night can be heard

Okay, I think I’m getting it.  So basically, when life is getting tedious and annoying, the best way to escape is to hear a song and … huh, the chorus is here already.  That was quick.

Put on your dancin’ shoes
Throw out those one night blues
Here’s one to love and to chance
For a spin on that wheel of romance

Here’s one what?  One night? One song? One woman? One man?  I guess we’re talking about the song, and this is the song in question.  But here’s where I start to have a problem.  Imagine you were looking at these lyrics all alone, without any accompanying music.  You’d think, okay, this song is clearly about cheering oneself up through the joy of dancing.  You’re not just forgetting the blues, you’re throwing ‘em out, right?  It’s party time!  Oooh yeah! Put on your dancin’ shoes!  Take a spin on that wheel of romance!  (Sorry, I meant to warn you: shitty lyric alert.  Too late!)

Now, when I listen to the music … well, I don’t know about you, but this song does not make me want to put on my dancin’ shoes.  This song makes me want to do the exact opposite of putting on my dancin’ shoes. This song makes me want to find my dancin’ shoes and throw them at my 8-track player.  This song makes me want to curl up into the fetal position in the corner of my house and cry myself to sleep.  Holy crap, this is Mellow Gold!

But what the hell.  Let’s continue.

Too slow to unriddle all your problems

Did Nigel just call the guy retarded?

Too lonely for someone to care

Now this line, I’m totally feeling.  This song sounds like the kind of song someone really lonely sings over and over again, to the point where you’re like, “You know what? Be lonely. I’m going out to get laid.”

Long, lonely silence keeps haunting
Till the song in the night finds you there

That last line is just not redeeming enough for me to feel the happiness I want to feel when talking about putting on my dancin’ shoes.  I don’t think a line exists that could make me feel better after the lyrical death rattle of “long, lonely silence keeps haunting.”

But I digress. We get another chorus, the guitarist gets to do a bit of noodling, then we have a bridge of sorts that offers a shot at redemption.

A face like an angel, she’s waiting
She smiles and looks over at you
You yearn for this situation
Now finally your dreams have come true

Again, if you were to just read these lyrics and not actually listen to the song, you might think that this scenario is somewhat realistic: after two choruses of “put on your dancin’ shoes,” you would imagine that the shoes are on, they’ve been danced in, and now a lady is suddenly interested in this situation you’ve, uh, yearned for.  (Man, is that line awkward.)  However, in listening to the overall rhythm and feel of this song, the only condition I’m feeling is “pathetic.”  But I’m not supposed to feel anything else, really, am I?  Success is not a Mellow Gold theme.  Loneliness, desperation and maybe a slight twinge of begging thrown in for good measure: now those are Mellow Gold themes.

Nigel’s not really to blame, though.  He didn’t write the song.  The song was written by Carl Storie, who recorded the song with Faith Band in 1978.  I don’t know much about Faith Band.  I do know two things: one, they released a record entitled Excuse Me…I Just Cut An Album, which I think is awesome, and two, they released their version of “Dancin’ Shoes” on the exact same date as Olsson — December 16, 1978 — but their version only peaked at #54. You can hear the original version here as introduced by Music Mike. I take no responsibility for the still images displayed throughout the song.

Music Mike, uncomfortable on screen as he may be, is correct: both versions are pretty good, and actually, they’re not much different from one another. Olsson’s version is slightly more polished.  However, I’m giving the upper hand to Faith Band.  You know why?  Because Olsson’s version has a completely unnecessary truck driver’s gear change.  I think I know why he put it there, too: he wanted an opportunity to gift us with a completely useless drum fill, and the only way to justify it was with a key change at the end. And the minute I heard that fill, I just knew the key change was coming, which somehow makes it worse.  Like, I knew it was coming and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  And it happens with barely 45 seconds left, of which 15 seconds are occupied by a fade-out; again, I’m convinced it was all for the drum fill.  I can’t imagine such a stroke of ego by someone who included his name in five out of six album releases.

Olsson did have one more hit reach the Top 40, and it was from the same album: “Little Bit of Soap” made it to #34.  I’m sure there are readers who remember “Little Bit of Soap.”  We thank you to keep it to yourselves.  I’ve had quite enough of Nigel and his so-called dancin’ shoes, thank you very much.

Ugh, this is what I brought this series back for?  Hopefully we’ll find a better song in the weeks to come.  Keep your fingers crossed, and until then, stay neutered!

Happy ninth day of Mellowmas! Today, we’re sad to say that we’re skewering a truly brilliant artist: none other than Fats Domino. We really didn’t want to, but…well, you’ll see.

Jason: Jeff, I know you’re wondering why I picked this track.

Jeff: Well, yeah.

Jason: I mean, Fats Domino?

Jeff: Fats Domino is a legend.

Jason: He is.

Jeff: Thirty-seven Top 40 singles!

Jason: A brilliant piano player. A fine, fine musician.

Jeff: The man too tough for Katrina to beat!

Jason: A real rootsy musician.

Jeff: A humanitarian, even.

Jason: Go ahead. Start the track.

Fats Domino — Frosty the Snowman (download)

From Christmas is a Special Day (formerly Christmas Gumbo)  Amazon iTunes

Jeff: Hmm. There seems to be some kind of mistake.

Jason: Hey, we have Fats Domino in the studio! I know what we’ll do! We’ll have him sing to a DRUM MACHINE!

Jeff: And take away his piano!

Jason: SERIOUSLY! I mean, the horns are real, so we have that. But that’s about it.

Jeff: Are we sure this is Fats Domino?

Jason: It is! His vocal is okay. He sounds a bit like Shirley Q. Liquor, but the vocal’s not bad. I’m just appalled that they gave him this idiotic track.

Jeff: Ha ha ha! Shirley Q. Liquor!

Jason: I mean, it’s Fats Domino! Show some fucking respect, you know?

Jeff: Damn straight!

Jason: I mean, the bass part is right off a Casio.

Jeff: This is bullshit.

Jason: I agree.

Jeff: I blame Daryl Dragon.

Jason: Fats deserves better, doesn’t he? I just found a blog post where people just gush over this track. How can you gush over this track?

Jeff: This is one of the lamest versions of this song I have ever heard, and it’s a pretty lame song to begin with.

Jeff: I think I found the post you’re talking about. “The Fat Man Plays It Smooth for Frosty.”

Jason: That’s the one.

Jeff: “A nice, gently funky groove”?

Jason: And the version they have there is a bit different. It’s in a different key with a different intro, but the track is exactly the same. Which means either that guy’s version is slow or ours is fast. But the backing track remains the same.

Jeff: I haven’t found any other information.

Jason: I never thought this day would come — a day when a respected, genius artist like Fats Domino would wind up being part of Mellowmas. I’m getting angrier and angrier by the minute. Who produced this? What did Fats ever do to these guys? Can we light their house on fire?

Jeff:Perhaps it’s best if we listen to anything else by Fats Domino.

Jason: Even if it’s not Christmas.

Jeff: Absolutely. I’d rather hear Richie Cunningham singing “Blueberry Hill” at this point.

Oh my God, look at this.

Jason: Wow. It gets stellar reviews! Released in ’93?

Jeff: One commenter describes it as “chocolate frosting on an already yummy musical cake,” or something like that. Fats has awful, awful fans.

Jason: Am I crazy here? Be honest. Because everybody seems to love this, and I don’t get it. I mean, where’s the PIANO?

Jeff: I’ve had it on a loop since we started talking about it, and I’m probably not the best person to judge anyone’s sanity at this point. I’m terribly disillusioned.

Jason: Yeah, I know.

Jeff: Fats cut an entire Christmas album, and this was on it. He must have wanted to do it.

Jason: I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this to you. Or anybody else.
I love Fats.

Jeff: Well, look at the bright side — everyone else will probably love it.

Jason: Okay. So if our readers love it, are you going to jump to their side or are you standing strong with me on the “what the shit is this?” side?

Jeff: It just started in my headphones again. I’m definitely standing strong. This sucks.

Jason: Thank you. Hippity hop hop.

Jeff: I hope you had massive gambling debts, Fats. Or were behind on your child support payments or something. ANYTHING.

Jason: I’m afraid the reason was like, “I love Christmas, and I think the technology in some of these new 48-note Casios is just stunning.”

Jeff: Sigh

Jason: Or “I love Christmas, and I thought, who needs real drums? Or bass? Or piano?” I’m just sad now.

Jeff: It’s starting again.

Jason: I’m going back to watching a video of “Ain’t That a Shame.”

Jeff: I’m going to claw my headphones off and go lie down for awhile. Thanks for passing this along, you fucker.

Jason: Hippity hop hop, buddy.

It’s amazing sometimes to see how music brings the world together.

I was food shopping with my wife last week and “867-5309/Jenny” by Tommy Tutone was playing in the store. Even though I’m not a big fan of most of the larger hits of the ’80s, it was the only song that caught my ear the entire time I was there. After the song ended, I found myself whistling it through the next few aisles. About five minutes later, this goth-looking dude with a ton of tattoos passed me and was singing the chorus. Not long after that I passed a couple that had to be in their 70s, and the old man was repeating the famous phone number to his wife. So, at least five minutes after “867-5309″ was over, there was me, a goth kid, and an old man all still being entertained by it. Somewhere the guys from Tommy Tutone are smiling.

NEW SOUNDS FOR THE COLLECTION:
Riot, Restless Breed
Accept, Metal Heart
Europe, Wings of Tomorrow
Johnny Gill, Johnny Gill
Axe, Offering

This week we look at the final nine artists whose names begin with the letter C as we give you 15 more Bottom Feeders from the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the ’80s.

Crowded House
“World Where You Live” — 1987, #65 (download)
“Better Be Home Soon” — 1988, #42 (download)

Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over” is my second-favorite song of the decade. Unfortunately, that didn’t translate into a love for Crowded House. I know there are a lot of people who think both their self-titled debut and their second record, Temple of Low Men, are great albums, but to me they’re both pretty boring.

The Crusaders
“I’m So Glad I’m Standing Here Today” — 1981, #97 (download)

Here’s a sweet little funky jazz ballad, with Joe Cocker singing lead. This was off their 14th album, Standing Tall; it was their final charting song.

Billy Crystal
“You Look Marvelous” — 1985, #58 (download)

You gotta love this track, which sprung from the popular catchphrase Crystal used on Saturday Night Live when he played Fernando Lamas. The two greatest lines of the song have to be “I love you young people today with your rock ‘n’ roll, like that Eddie Van Heflin” — the background singers chime in with “Van Halen!” — and “Dancing to me is like standing still, only faster.” The only surprising thing about the song is the full-blown dance beat. It certainly works well, though, and yields the first comedy track in the Bottom Feeders series that’s actually funny.

Cugini
“Let Me Sleep Alone” — 1980, #88 (download)

As far as I can tell, this disco track is the A-side to the only single Don Cugini ever released. The seven-inch was released on then-indie label Scotti Brothers, who didn’t list anything else with his moniker. Of all the songs we’ve visited in this series so far, “Let Me Sleep Alone” was the hardest to come by for my collection. An eBay search today will yield no results.

The Cult
“Fire Woman” — 1989, #46 (download)
“Edie (Ciao Baby)” — 1989, #93 (download)

The first of multiple shockers in this week’s post, it’s unbelievable that “Fire Woman” only reached #46, as it’s one of the best rock songs of the entire decade. It’s #66 on my Top 80 Songs of the ‘80s list. “Edie” ain’t chump change, either. Both the Cult’s album Sonic Temple — which these two appeared on — and their previous record, Electric, are great albums to crank as you burn down the highway.

The Cure
“In Between Days” — 1986, #99 (download)
“Why Can’t I Be You?” — 1987, #54 (download)
“Hot Hot Hot!!!” — 1988, #65 (download)
“Fascination Street” — 1989, #46 (download)
“Lullaby” — 1989, #74 (download)

Although they released great singles like “The Lovecats,” “Let’s Go to Bed,” and “A Forest” prior to these songs, “In Between Days” was the first Cure song to hit the Hot 100, but barely. Both “Why Can’t I Be You?” and “Hot Hot Hot!!!” were much better suited for college radio than the big time, but both “Fascination Street” and “Lullaby” are the other shockers of this post — knowing how huge the Disintegration album was, I’m blown away that both songs weren’t bigger hits. They’re #69 and #17 respectively on my Top 80 Songs of the ‘80s list.

Curiosity Killed the Cat
“Misfit” — 1987, #42 (download)

This is actually a pretty decent song, but the only hit for Britain’s Curiosity Killed the Cat. The terrible video for “Misfit” was directed by Andy Warhol. Doesn’t Julian look a little bit like John Cusack?

Curtie & the Boombox
“Black Kisses (Never Make You Blue)” — 1985, #81 (download)

This is a pretty craptacular song, and it doesn’t help that the band went with such a dumb name. The only reason this was even a minor hit is because it fit right in with everything else on the radio in 1985.

Cutting Crew
“(Between A) Rock and a Hard Place” — 1989, #77 (download)

Most people seem to think that Cutting Crew were one-hit wonders thanks to the #1 smash “(I Just) Died in Your Arms” being on every ‘80s compilation disc in existence. But they followed it up with “I’ve Been in Love Before,” a #9 hit, and another Top 40 song called “One for the Mockingbird.” “(Between A) Rock and a Hard Place” doesn’t get anywhere close to the quality of those songs, but at least now that I’ve listened to it again I can get the Rolling Stones’ shitty “Rock and a Hard Place” out of my head.

QUICK HITS:
Best song — The Cure, “Lullaby”
Worst song — Cutting Crew, “(Between a) Rock and a Hard Place”

Next week we move to the fourth letter of the alphabet, baby! That’s hot hot hot!!!

Eric Clapton – “I’ve Got a Rock and Roll Heart”

Dave: Did Clapton have to record this to pay back the writers for lending him money for blow? This record is such a piece of dogshit that a couple of Phil Collins-produced records and selling out to Michelob were considered a “return to form.” And that lyric “I get off on screaming guitars” would be horrible even if the guitar lick actually, you know, screamed. Maybe the problem was that he was too busy removing his dick from the tailpipe of a ’57 Chevy to realize his tone sucked.

Scott: What do you have against a man and his masturbatory habits, David? When Clapton recorded this song, he’d kicked drugs for the first time; he needed something to get his rocks off. Still, this song isn’t that bad. It’s an natural extension of the drug fueled reggae influenced shuffles he churned out in the 70′s, except this time he was sober. Maybe “I get off” was a bad selection of words, but when you look at the charts from 1983 (Men at Work, Human League, Culture Club) who the hell expected this song to be a hit? Certainly not Clapton. The look of his face on the cover of “Money and Cigarettes” tells it all: “I don’t give a shit. I’m Eric Clapton.” I’m sure some dumb ass exec enthusiastically told him that this song was a bona fide hit. To which Clapton most likely replied, “Fuck it, ya poofter, release whatever god damn song you want. I’m ERIC FUCKING CLAPTON! Now bring me a Trans Am, I’m through with that saggy old Chevy.” Seriously, the song’s obviously a throwaway that became a fluke hit. How else do you explain him selling his soul to the devil and teaming up with Phil Collins?

Dave: Come on, Scott. Once Clapton cleaned up and got legit with George Harrison’s wife, everything cool was sucked right out of him. Since then he hasn’t so much recorded as much as called up his triple-scale session buddies like Duck Dunn and Albert Lee for a royalty-filled snoozefest on the record company’s dime. Roger Hawkins hasn’t sounded this bad since Aretha ate his floor tom down in Muscle Shoals back in ’68. My guess is that Carla Bruni heard this song a few years ago, then went running to Nicholas Sarkozy to ease the trauma. By the way, I don’t doubt that Clapton has a rock and roll heart. What bothers me is that he has a Mellow Gold scrotum.

Lou Reed – “Rock and Roll Heart”

Scott: Excuse, I had to shut off my Honda scooter and turn down “Walk on the Wild Side” blasting through my stereo. Speaking of sellouts, our next song is by Lou Reed, a man who has shoved his dick into just about everything that breathes, and possibly even picked up Clapton’s sloppy seconds on the ’57 Chevy. We all know that Lou is a poet first and a rocker second. Alas, poetry doesn’t sell records, so we wind up with mediocre songs like this one that Lou hoped would entice people to lay down their hard earned cash and rock out. Screaming guitar aside, nothing Lou does in this song is original. And the lyrics are plain lame. Then again, maybe the eternal New York hipster was just trying to be “ironic.” Let’s all be glad that Lou quickly regained his senses after “Rock and Roll Heart” and went back to writing obtuse, esoteric paeans about junkies, prostitutes and affairs of the heart. At least, until he started hawking cheap Vespa rip-offs and tried to make us believe he’d actually be seen riding one around New York City.

Dave: So tortured was I by that Clapton song that I took a cocktail of Percoset and Valium, from which I have only now awoke with my soul scrubbed. Yeah, I’ll grant that Lou Reed’s “Rock & Roll Heart” hardly rises to the levels of his earlier rock n’ roll-named works, but at least it RAWKS! And it’s only got three chords, which is the very definition of rock n’ roll. Also, Lou knows that, if you’re going to write a song about rock n’ roll, ripping off the organ part from “Like A Rolling Stone” is the way to go. But Scott, I can’t understand how you can write for an pop culture website celebrated for its irreverence and choose Clapton over Lou Reed. If Lester Bangs were alive he’d spit in your face. Then he’d apologize and ask you to split a bottle of Robitussin.

Scott: I’ve just returned from getting my ass kicked in the back alley by Lou Reed, Bowie and Iggy Pop. When they were through, Rob Wasserman’s bass could be heard playing somewhere in the distance and I saw the ghosts of Andy Warhol, Basquiat and Edie Sedgwick rolling around in my blood. Lester Bangs was there, too, extolling the virtues of Grand Funk (until he threw up). Look, David, I agree that the majority of Clapton’s lyrics are trite, especially “I’ve Got A Rock and Roll Heart” (“Layla,” though, will stand the test of time), but at least he’s accessible. And when Lou tries to be accessible, he mostly comes up with formulaic songs like “Rock and Roll Heart.” I like accessible, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing for a website that champions the likes of Toto, Hall & Oates and The Hooters, as well as The Watson Twins and They Might Be Giants. My feeling is that Lou should stick to the poetry-in-music art form that he’s mastered, and that Clapton should stick to the blues (cause this whole Adult Contemporary bullshit he’s been doing for the past ten years makes me want to shoot myself).

Now, David, what I really want to know is whether you like Eric Clapton’s “I Can’t Stand It” or Lou Reed’s “I Can’t Stand It” better.

No, wait, don’t cut me off. Dude, this could really be good. Dude? Dude?

Damn.

Last episode, Dramarama scored a solid victory over Pearl Jam, taking home an filibuster-proof 60% of the votes. In other news, Mojo Flucke has removed one of his white gloves and cast it on the ground at Jeff Giles feet, and thus demanded satisfaction. Jeff, in turn, took up the glove and slapped Mojo across the face with it, and thus the challenge was accepted. As to the affront, it remains unknown, and it is suspected that neither of these gentlemen shall willingly air the cause of his grievance. Their seconds have agreed that the weapons to be used shall be Rockets. Join us in two weeks as they settle their dispute and face off at dawn on the Song-Off field of honor.

“Napoleon once said, when asked to explain the lack of great statesmen in the world, that to get power you need to display absolute pettiness. To exercise power, you need to show true greatness. Such pettiness and such greatness are rarely found in one person. I look upon the events of the past weeks, and I’ve never come so to grips with that quotation … Your leadership has raised the stakes of hate to a level where we can no longer separate the demagogue from the truly inspired.”
–President Jackson Evans (Jeff Bridges) in The Contender (2000)

Rod Lurie’s political films remind me of a college professor whose classes I simultaneously loved and hated: you had to sort through a lot of annoying bullshit to get to the brilliant insight at the end. (I figure I’m going to pay for that sentence in the comments section. Have at it!) Nevertheless, I happened to catch the last 15 minutes of The Contender on the tube Sunday morning, right after John Kerry nearly bitch-slapped the utterly deserving Joe Lieberman on Meet the Press, and that quarter-hour (like Lieberman’s performance) fairly reeked of the colossal stench John McCain’s campaign has been emitting for the past couple weeks.

In particular, the last line from Bridges’s speech begs to be viewed in the context of this presidential race. The Republican Party’s entire modus operandi, in the absence of any ideas that resonate with the American people, is now to render the electorate incapable of “separat[ing] the demagogue from the truly inspired.”

McCain once promised that things were going to be different this time. In April he said, point blank, “This will be a respectful campaign. Americans want a respectful campaign … they’re tired of the attacks. They’re tired of impugning people’s character and integrity. They want a respectful campaign — and I am of the firm belief that they can get it and they will get it if the American people demand it, and reject the negative stuff that goes on.”

McCain has never been a man whose phraseology demanded parsing, the way the Clintons’ does — or the way every utterance of the Bush White House demands to have the lies and fiction sifted from the mere stonewalling. But the last piece of that McCain quote may hold the key to the cowardice he has exhibited in recent weeks.

“If the American people demand it, and reject the negative stuff that goes on.” That’s a big “if,” and McCain now seems to be using it as an excuse for his current behavior.

Unfortunately, while “the people” always say they dislike negative campaigning, they far too often fall for it. McCain knows this from experience — from his own demolition at the hands of Karl Rove’s gutter politics in South Carolina in 2000, and from the way Bush’s jackals tore apart Max Cleland’s patriotism in 2002 and Kerry’s military record in 2004.

McCain, particularly as a Navy man, ought to know better after all that. He claimed to know better, promised he knew better. But then, he long claimed to be all about honor and duty and country and bravery and all that stuff.

Well, that’s all gone now. Forget about the Hanoi Hilton, forget about campaign finance reform, forget about all that “maverick” hoo-hah. There’s no honor, no bravery in “he’d rather lose a war to win an election” or “he’s played the race card from the bottom of the deck” or the Britney/Paris ad or the “Moses” ad. For McCain, there’s only cowardice — the cowardice of acting on the belief that he can’t win on the issues, or on a comparison of the candidates’ real characters, but only by creating a bogeyman.

Of course, McCain probably never imagined in April that things would turn out this way. But then, how many of us imagined that by the end of July Obama’s judgment on Iraq would have been validated by the Iraqi government, or that his judgment on Afghanistan and Pakistan and Iran would have been validated by the Bushies themselves? We all knew McCain didn’t have a prayer on the economy, but it must have come as something of a shock when Obama was revealed as an oracle on foreign policy as well.

Obama’s arrival back home last weekend, hailed as a genius on at least three continents and with unbeatable press coverage in the States, sparked McCain’s descent into full-on desperation. At the beginning of the week McCain tried to convince us that a candidate whose message of renewed American leadership resonated with foreign audiences must be viewed suspiciously here at home — because heaven forbid the world come to respect and admire the USA again! By the end of the week, Obama’s enormous substantive achievements on his trip had been boiled down to the dismissive phrase “he’s the biggest celebrity in the world” — bigger than Brit! Bigger than Paris!

How pathetic. So far McCain and the Republicans have made this campaign all about Obama: Is he ready? Is he right? (Is he a Muslim? Is he a Black Panther? Is he a himbo? Is he — as the Wall Street Journal has asked — too thin, and therefore not enough like us fatty Americans?) But McCain soon is going to find out that this election’s really a referendum on him and his party — their abject failures, their lack of ideas or vision, their corruption — and, yes, their (and his) cowardice.

Until then, the only course for Obama is full speed ahead. By putting up roadblocks to your hospital visit in Germany, George Bush’s Pentagon sought to create exactly the situation they did, and you fell for it. Screw Bush’s Pentagon, and the rest of the executive bureaucracy — it’s now a wholly owned subsidiary of the McCain campaign.

By comparing you to Britney and Paris, the McCain campaign sought to plant the idea that your popularity and inspiration are a liability, not a positive. (They also reprised the black man-white woman juxtaposition that served Tennessee’s Bob Corker so well in his Senate victory against Harold Ford in 2006.) Screw them! Go to Denver this month, stand before 75,000 adoring devotees and give the speech of your life.

By citing one of your standard stump-speech lines and suddenly claiming that you’re “playing the race card,” McCain and his campaign were trying less to attack you than to inoculate themselves from responsibility for the hideous, cowardly attacks they’re plotting. (“He played the race card first; we’re just responding,” you can just imagine them saying.) Screw them! Your job is to make independents comfortable with the idea of you in the White House, and your race is part of your “riskiness.” Keep right on making light-hearted reference to that discomfort — and keep your powder dry for the Republican attack machine that we all know is just getting started.

As for McCain: You want to be president? Give us a few good reasons why. Defend your domestic policies, and explain how they’re going to solve the economic mess we’re in. Come up with a real plan for solving our oil crisis — not gimmicks like a gas-tax holiday or increased drilling — or else admit that there is no short-term solution. Explain why you remain wedded to an indefinite presence in Iraq when the Iraqis themselves clearly want us out. Convince us that we should trust a Republican executive branch for four more years when even you suggest that the last eight have been such a god-awful shambles.

This is not going to be a pretty autumn for the Republican Party. You are most likely going to lose this election, and even if you manage to win you almost certainly will face increased Democratic majorities in Congress. If you squeak your way to victory only because you stick to the low road and create a caricature of, yes, our first African-American nominee that you know full well has no basis in reality, then you and your policies will run into a buzzsaw of historic proportions.

In short, the only way for you to emerge from this campaign with your beloved “honor” intact is to pull your campaign out of the sewer and return to your high-minded promises of the spring. Win or lose this election on the issues, not on character assassination, and force your party to do the same.

Stop being a coward, Senator McCain, and start being a man.

We’ll talk about Paul Davis: The Man, The Myth, The Gentle in a minute. First, let’s get into the music.

Paul Davis – I Go Crazy (download)

What problem might I have with “I Go Crazy,” you may be wondering. It’s a valid question. After all, it’s pretty enough. Gentle vocal (and some unexpected ventures into the bass range). Light, unobtrusive strings. A 5-note riff on the keyboard after the chorus, stolen from Dennis DeYoung’s “Babe,” (update: reader Jhensy has pointed out that “Babe” came out after this single, so if anything, DeYoung is the dirty thief) that is guaranteed to become an earworm (or, near the end of the song, a buzzing fly). I don’t quite get the bluesy keyboard riffing at the end, but I’ll forgive it.

My problem is this.

Think of the songs you know that mention “going crazy” somehow in the title. I came up with “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince, “I Go Crazy” by Queen (a b-side, but I’m a big Queen fan) and of course, who could forget the classic “Goin’ Crazy!” by David Lee Roth? (all of us, apparently.)

But here’s my point. All of these songs that mention going crazy have a sound reminiscent of someone perhaps, oh, I don’t know…going crazy. Not Paul Davis, however.

Here. Just for the hell of it, here’s a crude mashup of the four tracks. Excuse the sonic quality; I’m trying to prove a point. Tell me if one of these things is not like the others.

“Crazy” Mash-Up

At no point in “I Go Crazy” does Paul Davis actually sound like he’s really going crazy. Going Introspective? Maybe. Going Doubtful and Inquisitive? Sure. But we all know what this song should have been called. It should have been called “I Go Mellow.”

If Paul Davis is indeed going crazy when he looks in her eyes, then my friends, it’s the wussiest kind of crazy there could ever be. And that’s why it’s in the mines of Mellow Gold.

So listen back to those vocals. If you don’t already know what Paul Davis looks like, get an image in your head.

Whatcha got? Accountant? Small lil’ guy, neat, black hair? Maybe a suit? That’s what I’ve got. In fact, if you do a Google image search for Paul Davis, many images seem like they could be him.

This is Paul “I Go Crazy” Davis.

Motherfucker looks like Gregg Allman! This guy should be … I don’t know. Ripping a mean guitar solo? Smoking dope? Having his way with women? And instead, he’s approaching them gently, and giving them the message that he’d like to love them just a little bit, and if they’re not happy with it, then TOO DAMN BAD, WOMAN then it’s okay, they can leave, they don’t have to stay. He doesn’t want to offend anyone. (Looks down at the ground, shyly, shuffles his feet)

Which brings us to song #2.

Paul Davis – Cool Night (download)

I ask you this: do they get any smoother? Any more mellow? I seriously don’t think it’s possible.

Like “I Go Crazy,” this song is actually quite pretty. Gentle, unobtrusive backing vocals. This one actually has a drum beat to it, which means that it’s considered a Paul Davis “rock” song, I suppose. There are two main differences between “I Go Crazy” and “Cool Night,” however: the first difference is that “Cool Night” sounds exactly like you’d expect it to sound. Unlike track 1, we’re not expecting Paul Davis to go batshit insane on a song called “Cool Night.”

The other difference happens at 2:33. Paul Davis actually does go a little crazy. He lets his Gregg Allman-esque hair down and does something truly ballsy: KEY CHANGE!

I love the key change. When I sing this song to myself, I never have the patience to get to the chorus after the guitar solo. I always do the key change right away. That’s how much I love the key change.

My buddy Mike sums up the emotion behind many of the Mellow Gold hits:

“I love you so much that I will never bother you again” or “come on baby, just allow me to be in your beatific presence and I will not even think of putting any kind of sexual move on you. I promise.”

That’s “Cool Night” in a nutshell. “If it don’t feel right, you can go.” I almost can’t believe he’s making the statement. A guy who looks like that? Come ON! I keep wondering if it’s a Jedi mind trick of some sort. Does the woman stay? Does she leave him to go find the guy from Firefall? (Whoa!) It’s a mystery, friends. A cool, mellow mystery.

I was going to end this post after two songs, but what the hell. Paul Davis had one more Mellow Gold hit in the ’80s.

Paul Davis – ’65 Love Affair (download)

Or as I like to call it, “The Boy From New York City.” I mean, come on. Right from the first few notes, I heard the similarities – and this was before the “doo-wop didddy-wop-diddy-wop doo” bit. Hmmm…the keyboard part in “I Go Crazy,” and now this…is Paul Davis pulling a Robbie Dupree?

If “Cool Night” was considered Paul Davis’ “rock sound,” “’65 Love Affair” features him firmly ensconsed in the “speed metal” phase of his career. Could we have done something about those drums? How about that awful 2-beat hit that’s supposed to sound like clapping or…something?

I’m not saying that Davis didn’t do a semi-respectable job of resurrecting the golden-oldie soul sound. However, the lyrics leave a little tons to be desired: “Well I asked you like a dum-dum/You were bad with your pom-poms/You said, ‘ooh wah go team ooh wah go!’ Ooh-ee baby I want you to know/” And he does mention in the chorus:”’65 love affair, we wasn’t getting nowhere.” I wonder if it’s because he told the girl she could leave if it didn’t feel right?

“I Go Crazy,” “Cool Night,” “’65 Love Affair.” I’m using all of these songs to make a point. That point is this: Paul Davis is a sissy.

I kid, I kid. I give Paul Davis credit, actually: the pop sensibilities of both “’65 Love Affair” and “Cool Night” were a departure from his previous country sound, and Davis was so disgusted with the commercialization of his music that he essentially quit the business altogether. Can you blame him? Look at those “’65 Love Affair” lyrics again. Also, here’s a crazy fact: Paul Davis was shot in 1986…and survived! (No word on whether he was shot by the woman who left because it didn’t feel right.)

Although Paul is no longer with us, we know that up to his death, he lived in Mississippi and liked to fish.

You have to wonder, though: did Paul Davis kill the fish? Did he catch it and tell it that it could go back in the water with the other fishes if it wasn’t happy? When the boat stalled, did he mutter “I Go Crazy?”

Hope you enjoyed this expedition into the Mines of Mellow Gold!