You guys, I’m a bad blogger. I haven’t really posted much in a while. I know you’re all perfectly nice people, and you can probably forgive me for that. But I don’t know if you can forgive me for being a mean blogger.

You see, I’ve worked so hard to gain your respect, your readership, and most importantly, your readership. And it all ends today, with this edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold. Believe it or not, I AM sorry for this one, and hope you’ll forgive me one day.

Charlene - I’ve Never Been To Me (download)

That sound you just heard was Jeremy sending bomb threats to my ISP.

Let’s get one thing out of the way, right now. This song is very, very mellow. Very smooth, too. Is it traditional “Mellow Gold?” No, not really. Certainly not in the same way as many of our male artists (and yes, we’ve discussed the differences between male and female MG artists, too, with no real definitive answers). But I’m covering it because it’s been requested by a few people, and also because when it was last mentioned here, people seemed to get really angry about it.

I think that’s funny.

If you like “I’ve Never Been To Me,” well, one could say you’re entitled to your own opinion. For my part, I think this song is pretty terrible. It’s sappy in the worst ways imaginable, both lyrically and musically.

I really don’t know much about Charlene, and I’m not convinced that anybody really needs to know that much about Charlene. Quick backstory: Charlene signed with Motown in 1973. In 1976, she recorded “I’ve Never Been To Me” and released it on her album Charlene. However, the song didn’t take off, possibly because of its spoken interlude smack in the middle. (More on this later.) In 1977, the song was re-released without the bridge on her album Songs Of Love. It reached #97, but still, no hit.

In 1982, the famous DJ Scott Shannon was working down at WRBQ in Tampa, and somehow brought the song back to the airwaves. (Here’s where Scott Shannon works now, in case you’d like to send him a thank-you note.) Shannon generated significant interest in the tune. Motown threw Charlene back into the studio, where she re-recorded the song, with the spoken word section intact. “I’ve Never Been To Me” reached #3 in the U.S. in May of 1982, and even hit #1 in the U.K.

“I’ve Never Been To Me” is Charlene’s plea to housewives everywhere who long for the glamorous life: “don’t wish for my life of luxury, ladies, for yes, I’ve done many wonderful things, but I don’t know who I really am. Stick to your dish pan hands.” Never mind the fact that the things that Charlene mentions in her song - such as sipping champagne on a yacht and making love in the sun here on Thunder Island - sound pretty damn good. So what if I wind up never going to me? I’d much rather go to Greece, anyway. Me sucks.

This song establishes its mellow-icity from the first four words: “hey lady, you lady.” Now, we’ve already established that calling a female “lady,” or “woman” is a trait distinctive to Mellow Gold. However, here’s where the gender confuses things: there’s just something that sounds wrong when it’s used by a woman. And “hey lady, you lady” is a phrase I never really want to hear, not even by Jerry Lewis. Unless Charlene says it while wearing a Jerry Lewis costume. (I will accept you either as Nutty Professor Jerry, Charlene, or as Steroids Jerry. Your choice.)

Accompanied by gentle piano and strings, Charlene lays (heh) out her tale for us. She’s a whore who regrets all she’s done in her life, and wants to pass on her worldly advice. And I don’t mean “a whore” in a male misogynistic kind of way: I mean she’s an actual whore. I’m convinced of it. The proof:

Took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun

(Having sex with preachers? Slutty move.)

I’ve been undressed by kings and I’ve seen some things that a woman ain’t supposed to see

(I’m guessing she’s probably talking about Mel Tormé’s scrotum.)

And, of course there’s THIS line:

I spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that cost too much to be free

Okay, she could be using “whoring” as a symbol for something else, but when you add it up with the previous lines, I’m thinking she’s being pretty direct.

So yes, this song is Charlene’s cautionary tale. And yet, Charlene didn’t bother to warn people about more pressing matters, like her haircut or fashion sense.

Hey, lady! Who picked out your clothes, Stevie Wonder?

Unfortunately, Charlene’s cautionary tale to housewives everywhere fails completely. Instead, Charlene comes off as a spoiled brat who’s been given plenty of wonderful opportunities, but can’t appreciate them. All we get is this whole self-absorbed whine of “but I’ve never been to me!” Listen, I’m an emotional guy, and I’m not saying that therapy is a bad thing. But if anybody ever says to you, “you know what your issue is, Benny? You’ve never been to you,” then I think you should kick ‘em in the teeth and run the fuck out of that office.

Still, Charlene needed to let the entire world know that although she spent the better part of a decade with her legs hiiiiigh up in the air, she had never been to her. Oh, thank you, Charlene! How can we ever repay you? In a way that doesn’t involve giving you money for sex, I mean?

I haven’t even started in on the spoken word middle section.

Hey, you know what paradise is?
It’s a lie!
A fantasy we created about people and places
As we like them to be!
But you know what truth is?
It’s that little baby you’re holding!
And it’s that man you fought with this morning!
The same one you’re gonna make love to tonight!
That’s truth! That’s love!

Does anybody know if the housewife suicide rate increased in 1982?

I don’t know what possessed the Motown people to reintroduce this oddly insulting middle section into the song. But if they were so insistent on it, why’d they stop there? Speak all over the damn thing! How much more entertaining would the opening verse be if it went alittlesumthin’likethis:

Hey lady,
“uh, me?”
You, lady,
“Oh. You really are talking to me. When was the last time you showered?”
Cursing at your life
“motherfucker!”

And so on. Let’s make this song a full dialogue! Let’s tell Charlene what we think of her, while she’s busy bragging about her bullshit life! And when was the last time a whore sounded this good, anyway? I mean, if she’s really done all the stuff she says she’s done, don’t you think she’d come out a little worse for the wear, maybe sounding like Lunchlady Doris from The Simpsons?

Although I did post an unflattering picture of her above, the truth is that not only did she sound pretty, but she looked pretty, too. Observe:

1982 suspenders on loan from Mork from Ork

So here we have a lady (heh) that looks and sounds appealing, and is regaling us with tales of her “subtle whoring.” I can’t say for sure, but I imagine the male side of the music industry responded with a hearty “hey, fresh meat!” I mean, surely somebody in the biz must have listened to her song - one where she still sounds a little weak-willed - and decided this was a woman worth taking advantage of, right? Right?

“No, when I said ‘you can touch my Oscar…’”

If there’s anybody in the biz who’s gonna respond to “subtle whoring,” it’s good ol’ Stevie Wonder. He’s perhaps the mackin’est blind piano player in the universe, behind Ray Charles (but Ray’s dead, so he’s out of the race). Yes, it’s true: Stevie and Charlene made beautiful music together.

“That’s the last time we let Stevie get final approval on picture singles!”

“Used To Be” was Charlene’s only other successful attempt in the biz: it reached #46 on the charts. Charlene seemingly disappeared from public view, although “I’ve Never Been To Me” enjoyed a resurgence in 1994, when it was used in the film Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert. Recently, Priscilla was turned into a musical, and Charlene went down to Australia to promote it. Here’s a recent clip of her performing her hit. Her voice and looks still hold up relatively well, but you can’t beat the original video.

And according to this LiveJournal entry, Charlene has been guesting on some gigs in the L.A. area. That’s about all I can find. I mean, you can try going to her official website, but the site’s been temporarily disabled. Maybe her webmaster realized he’d never been to him and quit.

To close out this ridiculously snarky Mellow Gold entry, I thought I’d summarize some important facts about this song. Enjoy.

Places Charlene Has Been To

1) Georgia
2) California
3) Nice
4) The Isle Of Greece
5) Planned Parenthood
6) Charlie Sheen

Places Charlene Has Never Been To

1) Talented
2) Sheboygan
3) My Balls

See you next week for another Adventure Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Greetings to you, Mellow Gold-ians, and thank you for your patience as I manage my absolutely wiggidy-whack schedule. We’re back, and wimpier than ever! (Well, maybe not ever, but still…pretty wimpy.)

I threw you guys a clue yesterday:

The next Mellow Gold covers a track with a chorus that is meant to be a reassurance of love, but in truth, comes off more as a threat.

A few guesses were made, the most impressive being Matthew’s guess of “If You Leave Me Now.” (The least impressive? A tie between “More Than Words,” by Jessica and “I Touch Myself” by Pete.) Matthew, that’s a great Mellow Gold song, but it’s not the one I’m thinking of.

Dr. Hook - A Little Bit More (download)

I’m-a be honest with you: before this entry, I didn’t know a damn thing about Dr. Hook. I had heard of Dr. Hook as a kid, but naturally thought it was a person, not a group, and so I always got them confused with:

and:

aaaaaand:

It turns out, though, that the real Dr. Hook looks like….well…a hillbilly family getting their picture taken at the local Sears.

Stare at this picture closely, folks. For once, I’m not going to be snarky. I don’t need to, do I? This photo speaks for itself. Oh, and they also thought this cover was a good idea:

The biography of Dr. Hook is an interesting one, I’ll admit. But my time is precious these days, and would I forgive myself in the morning if I spent too much time relaying the history of these gentlemen, who in the above photo look like they’re caught in some odd Mummenschanz-meets-refrigerator-repairmen nightmare? Allmusic has a great bio if you’re interested, but if you’re not, here are Five Not-So-Interesting Facts About Dr. Hook.

1. Two Lead Singers, Three Eyes. The vocal and guitar duties were shared by Dennis Locorriere and Ray Sawyer. Sawyer wore an eye patch due to some injuries stemming from a car accident in the late ’60s. I’m not sure who sings lead on “A Little Bit More” - I think it’s Locorriere - but since I think it’s funnier to make the pirate sing it, I’m sticking with Sawyer. Don’t correct me if I’m wrong.

2. Dr. Hook Was Shel’s Light In The Attic. Shel Silverstein wrote all the music for their first album, the self-titled Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show (they later shortened their name), which included (but was not limited to) their famous “The Cover Of The Rolling Stone” and “Sylvia’s Mother.” Although he didn’t write “A Little Bit More,” he had heard the song on an album by songwriter Bobby Gosh and suggested Dr. Hook include it on one of their albums.

3. They Had Awkward Album Titles. Sloppy Seconds and Belly Up are just two.

4. They Impressed Clive Davis. The band bombarded Davis in his office and serenaded him with an impromptu concert, which secured their record deal. When Clive Davis eventually dies and they do a retrospective of his career, expect Dr. Hook to “accidentally” go unmentioned.

5. Did I Mention The Singer Wears An Eye Patch?

If I seem a little disinterested in Dr. Hook’s biography, it’s true. All I’m interested in is their contribution to Mellow Gold. And friends, these guys wrote some mellow shit. I know at least a few of you (Mike and Dave, I’m looking in your general direction) are wondering why I’m not covering “Sharing The Night Together.” Don’t worry, it’ll be covered here in due time, I promise.

So here’s my theory on Dr. Hook: They’re not really a mellow band. I don’t believe that their mellow hits were representative of their true emotions. They didn’t curl up into the fetal position on a nightly basis, like our friends Dan Hill or Paul Davis. I fully believe that the gentlemen in Dr. Hook were brilliant opportunists: they saw the reaction these other groups were getting from the wuss rock, and thought, “well, if these guys can get pussy…” Much like the jock who enters the senior musical in high school and pushes the master thespian to the sidelines, Dr. Hook set their sites on a collision course for Mellow Boulevard.

You know “A Little Bit More” is heading for Wimpsville fast within the first few seconds of the song. There’s some limp-wristed electric guitar, which is completely invalidated anyway by those smooth, dulcet keyboard tones. (I’d bet that early mixes of this song didn’t have any electric guitar at all, and it was only added after the guitarist threatened to walk out and join Sneaker.) The rest of the song follows suit: light acoustic guitar, those keyboards, and just a little electric thrown in to shut the guy up. Oh, did I mention the strings? Shit, yes: strings all over the goddamn place. And I’m pretty sure I heard a flute. A fucking flute! Dr. Hook, you’re shameless. I see through this ploy.

But did the women see through this ploy? That’s the question. I’d like to believe that they did, because, well, Dr. Hook were a lot of things (or maybe they weren’t; as you can see, I haven’t bothered to do my research on who they were), but subtle, they weren’t. At least not lyrically. Let’s review, mmkay? We’ll start, as Dr. Hook do, with the chorus.

When your body’s had enough of me
And I’m layin’ flat out on the floor
When you think I’ve loved you all I can
I’m gonna love you just a little bit more

….and that’s all we need. See you next week on Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Just kidding. But really, isn’t this enough? Look at that first line: “When your body’s had enough of me.” That’s classic. I mean, shouldn’t the line after that be “I’m going to leave you alone?” or, at the very least, “I”m going to disconnect the phone so you don’t call the police?” But remember, friends: Dr. Hook were mellow poseurs. The chorus gives it away. I mean, it’s not really about her, is it? Sawyer’s saying, “when you’re sick and tired of all my one-eyed bullshit, too freakin’ bad! You’re getting more! I don’t care if we’re both exhausted!”

Dr. Hook were committed to the poon, you gotta give them that much.

(A little off-topic: listen to the chorus: doesn’t it sound like he’s saying “when YOU’VE think I’ve loved you all I can?” I’ve listened about 10 times and I just can’t physically listen anymore. My body’s had enough of the chorus and I’m layin’ flat out on the floor.)

These lyrics get better, believe it or not. Because now, Sawyer’s settin’ the scene. Somebody call the Mellow Gold Players! Verse one:

Come on over here, and lay by my side
I’ve got to be touching you
Let me rub your tired shoulders
the way I used to do

Ooooh! Point for Sawyer! Well done, my man! You almost lost her with the “touching you” phrase, but got it back with the massage tactic, almost as if to say, “what, you think I’m some kind of perv? I just want to give you a massage! Geeez!” I can’t help but wonder if I somehow subliminally learned this move from Dr. Hook. (It rarely works. Okay, it never works.)

Look into my eyes, and give me that smile
the one that always turns me on

Girl: My smile turns you on? Uh, okay? (gives awkward, full-toothed smile)

And let me take your hair down
cause we’re staying up to greet the sun

Girl: Wait, wait, we’re doing what? Wait a min….oh no!

See, at this point, Sawyer’s jumped on top of her. He perfectly executed a Mellow sneak attack: let’s pretend that I just want to rub your shoulders (thanks for the tip, England Dan!), and once your guard’s down, so is my zipper! You’ve just fallen straight into Dr. Hook’s Patented All-Nite Lovemaking Trap!™

During chorus #2, the poor gal’s just gasping for breath here and there. Silly girl. First of all, didn’t the swirling strings give you any indication that this guy was serious about seducing you? And secondly, didn’t your mother tell you to never go home with a guy wearing an eye patch? Luckily, she breaks away for a minute…prompting Sawyer to follow through on the second verse.

Got to say a few things that have been on my mind,
and you know where my mind has been

Girl: Yes. Thank you. You haven’t made it completely freaking obvious.

I guess I’ve learned my lessons
and now is the time to begin

(I don’t even know what the hell this means.)

So if you’re feeling alright, and you’re ready for me,
I know that I’m ready for you

Girl: Good. I was concerned. (grabs her coat, goes for the door)

We’d better get it on now,
’cause we’ve got a whole life to live through

Excuse me for a second.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

(deep breath)

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

Congratulations, Dr. Hook: NOW you’re Mellow Gold! See, before, I just didn’t feel you were really desperate. But with a line like “we’d better get it on now ’cause we’ve got a whole life to live through,” I can actually smell the desperation on your gigantic collar. (Unless that’s Old Spice.) I knew you’d get there - we just had to see how pathetic you could actually get, and I think I speak for all of us when I say you’ve really exceeded our expectations. Seriously, the only way you can get any lamer is by going with “But I’m dying of polio!”

Final chorus: I’m envisioning this poor girl crawling on the floor, desperately trying to get out. I think she actually makes it out. Thank God Ambrosia was caught in traffic!

And just like that, the song’s over. Let’s take a quick second to bask in the absurdity of this lame-ass attempt at seduction.

One final point before I sign off for today, and I thank Mike for bringing this up: there’s no shortage of bands like Dr. Hook these days - bands who don’t have the convictions of their passions and resort to cheap tactics to get women in the sack. But what if it all started with Dr. Hook? Is it possible? Maybe Dr. Hook begat Extreme, who begat Dave Matthews, who begat John Mayer who begat Jason Mraz who eventually, in some perverted way, begat Fall Out Boy. Sends chills up your spine, don’t it?

That’ll do it for this week. Expect us to revisit The Hook sometime in the future. Thanks for reading, and as always, see you next time for another Adventure Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Between performances of my show and rehearsals for the next Evil Prince Ludwig gig at the Bitter End, I have had precious little time for writing.  My hope is to get Mellow Gold up tomorrow.  Cross your wussy fingers.

A hint for you, though: the next Mellow Gold covers a track with a chorus that is meant to be a reassurance of love, but in truth, comes off more as a threat.  Guesses?

So I’m guessing that you saw my shameless self-promotion earlier this week for my new show, Postcards From A Dead Dog, which had a great opening last night. Well, believe it or not, I’ve found a way to connect my new show to this edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Henry Gross - Shannon (download)

“Shannon” is a Mellow Gold classic recommended to me by woofpop and Dave P, who both separately agreed that it’s one of the wimpiest songs they’ve ever heard. It also has the distinction of being one of the biggest Beach Boys ripoffs ever recorded, but we’ll get to that in a bit. First, let’s fill you in on a bit of Henry Shannon history.

Henry Gross: stealing outfits from Dave Mason since 1970.

Born on April Fool’s Day in 1951, Henry Gross began performing at an early age, influenced by his mother, who had performed with the Metropolitan Opera Chorus. By the time he was 13, Gross was featured at Catskill Mountain resorts during the summers, and even performed at the 1964 World’s Fair. Upon enrolling at Brooklyn College in 1969, Gross co-founded a band you may recall: Sha Na Na. Sha Na Na became famous after their performance at Woodstock, and Gross had the distinction of being the youngest performer at the festival. However, Gross left the band by 1970 (presumably infuriated by the flamboyant, homosexual advances of Bowser) and ventured off to start a solo career.

Gross released two albums, Henry Gross and Plug Me Into Something (I love that title!). The wiki states that these albums “had several large regional hits.” I don’t know what that means. Does that mean that his song “Skin King” (I don’t love that title!) was big in McClusky, North Dakota? Did Benny Mardones have some competition in Syracuse when Gross released “Come On Say It?” I don’t have the answers to these questions. All I know is that Gross’s career-defining moment was the one involving “Shannon.”

Henry Gross and (his) Shannon:
They not only shared love, but a haircut as well.

Now, we’ve already stated that “Shannon” is, essentially, a Beach Boys song that just happens to be missing the Beach Boys. But I’m not just talking about the music. See, while promoting his first album, Gross had toured with the Beach Boys, and became close with Carl Wilson. One day, while visiting with Wilson, Gross mentioned he had an Irish Setter at home named Shannon, to which Wilson replied that he, too, had an Irish Setter named Shannon!…except she had been hit by a car and died!

awkward silence

One day, Gross was sitting on his bed with HIS Shannon, and while listening to a record entitled The Ultimate Seashore, was inspired to write a song dedicated to Wilson and the loss of his precious Irish Setter. Which, of course, prompted Gross’s Shannon to say, “I’m right here! I CAN HEAR YOU! What the fuck??” Oh, Shannon, if only you could understand: the love for a canine simply cannot match the love for a Beach Boy. (Unless it’s Mike Love. He sucks.)

Gross desperately wanted Wilson to record backing vocals for “Shannon,” but it never happened. (I can’t help but wonder if Wilson was thinking, “Uh, maybe you should have written this for, y’know, your dog?” but I’m sure he was honored nonetheless.) So instead, Gross did the next best thing, and found as many Beach Boys-esque vocalists as he could to record the song. (Prompting Sha Na Na to say, “I’m right here! I CAN HEAR YOU! What the fuck??”) “Shannon” resonated with the record-buying public, and spent a full month in the Top 10, peaking at #6 in June of ‘76.

When I first heard “Shannon,” I was blown away. Not because of the lyrical content, but because I just couldn’t believe that the Wilsons didn’t sue the polyester slacks off of Gross for copyright infringement. The song is great, and Gross has a gentle, beautiful voice - but listen to those backing vocals. This is a Beach Boys song through and through, from the Carl falsetto to the California-twinged vocal. (Henry Gross was from Brooklyn, by the way.) You may also notice that there’s no bridge. I don’t think it mattered to Gross - he got those harmonies locked down and realized (correctly) that the song needed nothing more than a few chords and those blatant Beach Boys influences.

Lyrically, the song’s quite interesting, mainly because it’s not necessarily apparent that the song is about the death of a dog.

Another day’s at end
Mama says she’s tired again
No one can even begin to tell her
I hardly know what to say
But maybe it’s better that way
If Papa were here I’m sure he’d tell her

Okay, so at this point, I have no idea what’s going on. In fact, if anything, Gross has confused the matter more by introducing a dead father into the plot. We soon find out that this has absolutely nothing to do with the song. I’m sitting here trying to figure out why he’d even mention it: “Hmmm…dead dog = sensitive, but dead dog + dead dad = Mellow Gold!” I honestly don’t know.

Shannon is gone, I heard
She’s drifting out to sea
She always loved to swim away
Maybe she’ll find an island with a shaded tree
Just like the one in our backyard

You know, I’m still not convinced that this is a dog. Couldn’t it also be about a stoned hippie? “Yeah, man, y’know, she, like, really dug….trees.”

But it wasn’t just that the lyrics were ambiguous. Have you listened to Gross’s vocal? What I hear in the vocal is, interestingly enough, similar to Gary Larson’s famous Far Side cartoon, “What Dogs Hear“:

Shannon is wah wah wah
She’s wah wah wah to sea
Wah wah wah wah wah swim away

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to introduce the man who invented the word WAIL (and may have inspired the word BLEAT). I mean, you can tell that this is the kind of man who weeps when his Corn Flakes get soggy. If that weren’t enough, we have further proof that Henry Gross was the ultimate wuss: he’s wailing, bleating and weeping over someone else’s dog. He never even met Carl Wilson’s dog! (If I were Gross’s Shannon, I probably would have thrown myself under the milk truck.)

Either way, writing a song about a dead dog is not only a wimpy, Mellow Gold move, but a smart one, as well: I’m sure that this song has become an integral part of many a doggie funeral, and I’d also be willing to bet there a number of Shannons out there who are forced to explain that yes, they were named after a Beach Boy’s dog. We can only hope that Henry Gross’s canine eulogy continues to earn him a few bucks now and then.

There’s another person who will never forget “Shannon,” by the way: Casey Kasem. Many of our readers will remember the famous “Casey Kasem Goes Fucking Bezerk” clip that has been in circulation for the past two decades, but you may not know that Kasem’s diatribe was about Gross’s tune.

For those who aren’t familiar, the basic story goes like this: in 1985, Kasem was recording an episode of American Top 40. “Dare Me” by the Pointer Sisters had just played, and Kasem’s producers set up one of the famous “Long Distance Dedications” for him to record immediately afterwards. Kasem had to dedicate “Shannon” to a man who had recently lost his dog Snuggles, and…well, why don’t you just listen to the clip, which is definitely not safe for work:

[audio:http://www.wwmmd.net/tunes/inline/kasem.mp3]

I’ve listened to that clip hundreds of times in the past 10 years, and it just keeps getting better and better.

Anyway, as with many of our Mellow Gold artists, Henry Gross never matched the success he had with “Shannon.” His follow-up single, “Springtime Mama,” sold “just short of gold,” according to the wiki, but again, that could mean just about anything. Thankfully, Gross seems to have a sense of humor about his success, and wrote a one-man show entitled One Hit Wanderer.

He’s also filmed a documentary about the show, and both are being shopped around. Check out Henry’s website for more information (as well as the more detailed story of “Shannon,” which involves a dude living upstairs blasting Latin music). Hey, maybe it’s just me, but I would totally check out this show if it came to town.

So when I first found out that I would be performing in Postcards From A Dead Dog - a play that also features the death of an Irish Setter - I figured: what better track to open the play? So I e-mailed the track to Troy, our director, and Jackie, playing my mother. Later that day, we received an e-mail from Jackie:

Troy, Sonny-

Could there be a more perfect song? It’s wonderful. Who the fuck is Henry Gross?
Love,
Mommy

Well, Jackie, now you know who the fuck Henry Gross is. And for any of you that come to see Postcards: as the lights go down and the play begins, you’ll hear the now all-too-familiar gentle guitar strums of “Shannon.” Granted, the song fades out before there’s any real indication of what it is, but the important part is that you’ll know why it’s there. Feel free to shout out your own Casey Kasem-esque diatribe as I walk out on stage!

That’s all for this week! Thanks for indulging me (more so this week than usual), and see you next week for another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Hello again, my mellow friends! It’s time again to take another one of our intrepid Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold! Today’s song is another gem from one of the classic, MG West Coast bands, and like last week’s journey to Thunder Island, this one is also all about the lovemakin’.

Ambrosia - You’re The Only Woman (download)

We covered the history of Ambrosia back in Mellow Gold 14, so if you need a refresher, see a therapist go and check out that entry. For those unwilling to waste any more time than is absolutely neceesary on shitty music, here’s a very basic recap: Ambrosia was a prog-rock band that, after having a hit with “How Much I Feel,” changed directions and wussified themselves for their album One Eighty.

Many fans were surprised and unhappy with the band’s change in direction. Unhappy, I can understand. Surprised? Did the album cover not give it away? If ever an album cover said, “Hey, Ambrosia fans, we’re wussin’ out,” it’s this one. And I don’t really understand the point of the hug, do you? Was Joe Puerta being consoled about his hairdo? Or was he being held down after trying to leave the photo session in a thwarted attempt to join Air Supply?

Anyway, the first single from the album, “Biggest Part Of Me,” reached #3 in June of 1980, selling zillions of copies to guys looking to score after a day out on Thunder Island. However, if those guys thought that this first One Eighty single was the key to getting laid…they had no idea of the gift Ambrosia was about to bestow upon them.

I don’t know if you’re familiar with the lyrics to “You’re The Only Woman.” If you are, ignore them. Yes, David Pack is singing some gentle, romantic lyrics that actually make some sense if you analyze them, but to be honest, who cares? The lyrics only serve to give Pack something to sing other than gibberish as he sings all sensitive-like and exercises his falsetto muscle - something I will now refer to as a wusscle. The components of this song, from the vocal to every instrument contained therein, are all about sex.

Think I’m on crack? That’s fine. I’ll go one step further and say that the first two-and-a-half minutes of this song are complete filler. Everything in this song is leading up to the instrumental.

Cue it up to about 2:30. I’ll wait. While you’re downloading, I’ll share with you my new goal in life. One day, friends, I will start a new acting troupe: The Mellow Gold Players. The Mellow Gold Players will act out scenes from various Mellow Gold hits. (And yes, Blue Man Group will cameo for Michael Johnson’s MG classic.) However, today is not that day - so for now, you’ll just have to rely on me painting the following picture for you. Ahem:

YOU’RE THE ONLY WOMAN
A late evening seduction in four minutes, twenty seconds
Conceived and directed by Jason Hare

Background: David Pack is in the middle of wooing. He’s mid-woo, if you will. He’s taken a lovely (yet horribly misguided) woman out for dinner, he’s slipped some Spanish Fly in her Chardonnay, and she’s agreed to accompany the Packmeister back to his apartment (with, of course, the caveat that he will never again refer to himself as “the Packmeister”). However, she’s starting to sober up, has realized that Pack is not what we would call “the most attractive man in the world,” and is looking for the exit. She wants to leave, but she can’t. And here comes the conflict. Why can’t she leave? Because the rest of Ambrosia is there too - including the session musicians - and they’re blocking the door.

So with Pack’s vocal throughout the first couple of verses, he’s trying to convince her, right? “There’s no need for what we’re going through,” blah blah blah. And she’s not convinced. But then, right when the backing vocal starts, the other guys pop up from behind the couch to sing along. She’s a bit bewildered, maybe a little spooked, and so she doesn’t leave. She’s wary, but she’s listening. He’s flexing the wusscle. However, by chorus #2, it’s a little weird - why are these guys in David’s apartment? Where do they sleep? Is that a nest on Joe Puerta’s head? - and she gets up to go.

(Okay, time to start the song up at 2:30!)

“Oh, don’t speak. Shhhhhhh.”

David signals to one of the session musicians. He’s giving him the pre-arranged sign that means only one thing: “Yamaha, STAT!” She reluctantly starts making out with him, strangely lulled by the way the keyboardist is almost spanking the keys as he riffs, as if to say “oooh, you’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you, Yamaha?” Of course, she’s a little distracted by the keyboardist’s huge gold belt buckle that keeps glaring in her eye, and also the fact that there’s a fucking band playing in the apartment. She pulls away.

Pack looks worried. He knows it’s not working.

Time to bring out the big guns.

It’s sax time.

She sits back down on the couch. She leans in for a kiss. (Director’s note: In my mind, the following make-out scene looks just like that awkward scene in Rod Stewart’s “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy,” where we’re forced to watch two people make out for way too long. That’s one of my favorite videos, btw, but that’s for another post.)

The other members smile to each other: “All RIGHT, guys! We got her! Pack’s gonna pack! score!” Pack knows he’s got a good thing going - in fact, he’s so confident that he breaks away a few times, unable to stop the wusscle. Miraculously, it’s okay - she lets him wail, and goes back to making out with him.

A tear falls from the sax player’s eye. Spanky McSpankerson is still going to town on the poor Yamaha. Pack gives the signal to the guys: all clear. Move to the bridge. She’s not going anywhere.

The song segues back to the chorus. The band members are still popping up from behind the couch to join in on the choruses. In fact, a few of ‘em are looking a little queasy from all the up-and-down. But no matter - by the end of the song, she’s lying in the bed, wrapped in Pack’s lavender, patchouli-scented satin sheets. She looks satisfied. But that’s not satisfaction, my friends. No, that’s relief. Relief that the members of Ambrosia are finally done seducing.

- FIN -

I really need to stop writing these posts so late at night.

But is it just me? Am I the only one that thinks that “You’re The Only Woman” just completely implies slow - laborious, even! - lovemaking? I mean, you have to actually wonder whether the band’s goal was to write the soundtrack to the very first Cinemax softcore skin flick.

“You’re The Only Woman” didn’t quite match the success of Ambrosia’s previous single, but it did reach #13 later in the summer of 1980. It deserved success; it’s a smooth classic. And I’m just going to copy and paste the following sentence from my last post about Ambrosia: Pack pulled a Mardones and re-recorded it for his 2005 album The Secret Of Movin’ On, and the result is smooth jazz dreck. Again, we’ll give credit to Pack for still possessing his impressive vocal range and keeping the song in his original key, but still, did this song really deserve this fate? Couldn’t we have all been happy making out to the original? Maybe it’s just me.

And I’m spent. Directing is hard work. If you’re a little sexed out, no worries - the plan next week is to give you a completely sexless Mellow Gold gem, but with iplenty of wusscle. See you next time for another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Welcome back to another Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold! It’s frickin’ freezing outside here in NY, and I’m tired of it. I was going to save today’s track for a warmer month, but I need a little summer right now. And so do you. I’ve decided.

Jay Ferguson - Thunder Island (download)

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my wussies!

“Thunder Island” has been recommended a few times here, and I can tell from other comments on the web that this is one of those well-loved summer tracks from the late ’70s. And with good reason! “Thunder Island” is a Mellow Gold gem in the same vein as songs like “Chevy Van” - ones where the protagonist doesn’t wind up sitting at home, quietly crying himself to sleep while clutching a teddy bear and a pint of Chubby Hubby, but instead actually gets the girl - and totally nails her!

First, of course, a little about Mr. Ferguson.

I’m whacking the shit out of the next person who mocks my shirt!

Jay Ferguson was a grew up in California and found his musical calling at a young age, learning the piano, banjo and drums and utilizing these skills in a number of bands - mostly garage bands, although he did form a bluegrass group at an early age with his brother Tom. His first successful band was formed after an afternoon love-in at Griffith Park.

awkward silence

Named Spirit, the group had a psychedelic sound (did the love-in give it away?) but also included elements of jazz and hard rock. The band had modest success, and a couple of Top 40 hits, but Ferguson left in the early ’70s to form Jo Jo Gunne with Spirit bassist Mark Andes. Jo Jo Gunne had a couple of hits as well, but Andes left to join a little wussy band named Firefall, and after a few more member changes, Ferguson embarked on a solo career. His first solo album was entitled All Alone In The End Zone.

awkward silence

The album wasn’t much of a success, but his follow-up Thunder Island - was a biggie. Produced by Bill Symsczk Szzymzyck Sczczczcz Szymczyk (as was the first), the title track reached #9 and brought both Ferguson and the album strong success. Ferguson did have other minor hits (most notably a song entitled “Shakedown Cruise”), but he never matched the success of “Thunder Island.”

We get it! You like showing off your chest! Now button up! And shave your moustache!
Look at his left hand next to the bushes: kinda looks like Wolverine, no?

Musically, this song is tons o’ fun: strong piano and drums, with a bass run at the end of each phrase that I’m pretty sure was timed to match up with pelvic thrusts on the beach. The backing vocals are joyful - the kind you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs in a convertible (if you’re still in 1978, of course). And if the slide guitar sounds familiar, you can thank Joe Walsh, who guested on a number of Ferguson songs, including “Thunder Island.” Don’t go looking for any examples of musical mastery here; it’s not like we’re dealing with tricky bridges or endless chord changes like in “Never Gonna Let You Go.” Nope, this song is as simple as they come - but what more do you need, really?

And these lyrics - well, to start: I’m sure you’ll agree with me that nothing says humpin’ in the summer like Du Du De-Dit, Du De-Dit, Du De-Dit, Du Du Du Dit Du, right? Right. As we already know, there’s nothing more Mellow Gold than calling your female companion your “woman” or “lady.” I don’t know what the hell Ferguson means by “Sha-la-la-la-la-la, m’lady,” but it doesn’t matter. He’s stickin’ it to her and she’s not complaining. In fact, through the lyrics, Ferguson tells a fun story about this wonderful romp with his lady - “a summer’s day laughin and a-hidin’, chasin’ love out on Thunder Island.” I don’t think I need to tell you what he was a-hidin’. Huh? Huh?!?

But, of course, the wonderful days didn’t last. No, the sad truth is that one day - I’m choking up as I recount this story - it rained. Yup. They were “caught by the rain and blinded by the lightnin’.” And then she got struck by lightning and burned to a little crisp. No, I’m kidding. They rode out the storm. And then…yes. You guessed it. They went back to humpin’ around.

If any of these edge-of-your-seat plot points seem unfamiliar to you, I’m guessing it’s because you tuned out after the Du De-Dits and Sha-la-las. And that’s perfectly okay. Let’s face it, a song like this gets its point across within the first ten seconds. Here’s an appropriate comparison: remember “Make Me Lose Control” by Eric Carmen? Pretty much the same song. You remember the chorus - “turn the radio up for that sweet sound” etc - but you’d be hard-pressed to remember any of the lyrics in the verses. Again - totally fine. You’re enjoying both for the way they made you feel during the summer that you heard them. (Nevermind that “Thunder Island” hit the Top 10 in April.)

So where IS this magical Thunder Island, anyway? Maybe it’s this Thunder Island, located in beautiful Fulton, NY:

Let’s all hope this is not the paradise of which Jay Ferguson was speaking. (And it it just me, or is Tubby talking on his cell phone while presumably being sucked down a drain of some sort?)

Perhaps he was referring to a place of discovery and knowledge, pathways of knowing who you really are and how to create a world for All Our Relations and future generations to live and thrive in:

No, that’s not it. I know! He was referring to a place where you can buy some cheap bitches! Or maybe the state you’re in when you have some really fine coffee! Actually, if it were anywhere, it’d probably be here, right? After all, the song is quoted right there on their homepage. But Jay Ferguson isn’t Canadian (although there is a Canadian musician named Jay Ferguson, but that’s another story). The truth is, according to Ferguson, that “Thunder Island is an invention, with the idea that everyone is invited to fill in their own Thunder Island - real or imagined. My personal Thunder Island experience involved meeting the girl I later married….I was in a very erotic state of mind when I wrote that.”

awkward silence

Wanna see a great video? Here’s Ferguson performing “Thunder Island” in Japan, 1979. I’m not going to spoil it, but suffice to say that at around 4:00, he breaks out the big guns.

So what’s Jay Ferguson up to lately? Well, after releasing his final album in 1982, Ferguson opted to focus on composing music for television and films. He worked on the scores for movies such as License To Drive, Johnny Be Good, Tremors 2: Aftershocks, and even contributed the song “Pictures Of You” to the soundtrack for The Terminator. (Hey, Jefito…Lost Soundtrack Classic? Call me.) Chances are that you haven’t heard most of these. However, you might be familiar with the theme song to the US version of “The Office” - that’s all Jay Ferguson, baby!

So if you find that the winter weather’s getting you down, and you need just a bit of summer lovin’ to get you through…this is your track. Enjoy! And see you next week for another episode of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Howdy, everybody, and welcome to another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold! Hope you didn’t put that cowboy hat away, pardner; we’re going back to the country side of Mellow Gold for today’s track!

Terri Gibbs - Sonmebody’s Knockin’ (download)

I’d love to tear this one apart, musically, but I really can’t. There’s simply not much to say about the song from a musical standpoint. “Somebody’s Knockin’” seems like a pretty straightforward country-twinged tune, except for when you throw in the harmonica, at which point it kinda sounds like Supertramp’s “Take The Long Way Home.” It’s pleasant enough; the song shuffles along at a nice pace, with a nice blend between acoustic guitars and piano. There’s not really a lot of synth - maybe just a few keyboard flourishes here and there - which, of course, is disappointing from the Mellow Gold perspective and doesn’t make much of an impact otherwise. Overall, this song is a musical snooze-fest. There’s just really nothing interesting going on. Even the lead vocal is just…there.

Well, except for one line: “Lord it’s the devil, would you look at him.” Excerpted below:

[audio:http://www.wwmmd.net/tunes/inline/him.mp3]

Did you hear the way he said “him?” Go back and listen again. That’s not “him.” That’s “heee-um,” and qualifies for the most wimpy delivery of the word “him” since Roger Daltrey whined it in “Substitute” back in 1966. Let’s compare, shall we?

[audio:http://www.wwmmd.net/tunes/inline/himhim.mp3]

Terri, I wasn’t so sure about how mellow this song was, but you suddenly qualified with just one word. Congratulations, you wuss.

So okay, maybe we don’t have much to go on from a musical perspective. But lyrically, we’ve got some good stuff here. “Somebody’s Knocking” is a song about the temptations of the devil. I’ll be honest, I’m surprised such a song could even make it onto the charts.

Somebody’s knockin’,
Should I let him in
Lord, it’s the Devil, would you look at him
I’ve heard about him, but I never dreamed
He’d have blue eyes and blue jeans

Now, maybe it’s just because I’m not a religious sort, but songs about the devil and temptation and whatnot really irritate me (Charlie Daniels not included). But I’m actually not irritated here. I was during the first three lines, but then we got to this “blue eyes and blue jeans” business, and now I’m more confused than anything else. Why is this guy talking about the devil having blue eyes and blue jeans? Is he…(gasp) GAY? Is that what’s going on here?

Well, somebody’s talkin’,
He’s whisperin’ to me
Your place or my place,
Well, which will it be
I’m gettin’ weaker and he’s comin’ on strong
But I don’t wanna go wrong

I refuse to believe that 1980s radio - 1980s country radio - would have allowed such a song to make it to the top of the charts. There was no mention of the dark side of homosexuality on the charts in those days. Hell, there’s no mention of it now, either (”I Kissed A Girl” doesn’t count and you know it, so I don’t want to hear it.).

So here’s my theory: Terri Gibbs is thinking about shooting some smack. He hasn’t done it yet, but he’s thinking about it. All the paraphernalia is right there in front of him. And suddenly, the devil shows up. Terri knows he has a choice to make: “your place” - heaven - or “my place” - hell. The devil and the drugs are powerful, Terri. You’re gettin’ weaker and he’s comin’ on strong. But you don’t wanna go wrong. Hold on, Terri! HOLD ON!

He must have tapped my telephone line
He must have known I was spendin’ my time alone
He says we’ll have one heavenly night
My fever’s burnin’, so he oughta be right at home

Yeah, it’s gotta be drugs. Because otherwise, I take that “one heavenly night” line and I’m right back at the lowest common denominator on this website (butt sex). So, yes. I’ve decided: this song is about Terri turning away from the evils of heroin. Of course, the only line that doesn’t compute with this is the “blue eyes and blue jeans” part. I’m lost on that one. Was there some kind of denim backlash in 1980? Were only BAD people wearing blue jeans? And what the hell’s wrong with blue eyes? This song makes no fucking sense. Who the hell recommended this?

Anyway, let’s give you some history on Terri Gibbs, shall we? According to AMG, Gibbs was born in Miami in 1954 and raised from age one in Augusta, GA; blind from birth, she turned to music at an early age, and…

Wait a minute.

What?

I need to read that again.

she turned to music at an early age

Wait a second. TERRI’S A GIRL?

You have got to be kidding me. This can’t be true. Have you listened to “Somebody’s Knockin’” yet? That doesn’t sound like a girl to me! That sounds like a guy! Hang on while I go in search of pictures.

No, I’m still not buying it. That’s a DUDE.

Okay, getting closer. But still, that could be a really effeminate-looking guy. No. I need solid proof of this.

Huh. Well, you can’t make the message any clearer than that album title (located right below her name). I guess that’ll have to do it.

Okay, I’ll come clean: when writing all of the above, I obviously already knew this startling fact. But this shock is not an act. Last Friday, late afternoon, Mike called me:

Mike: So what’s on board for Mellow Gold next week?
Jason: I don’t know. I’m thinking about this song called “Somebody’s Knockin’,” it’s this creepy song about being tempted by the devil.
Mike: Never heard of it.
Jason: Listen to the way he says the word “him.”
(plays clip over the phone)
Mike: (laughing hysterically) That’s worse than…
Jason: ….Roger Daltrey! I know!
(Mike and Jason spend a minute singing “me for him” over and over again and laughing ’cause they’re clearly still in high school)
Mike: Who’s it by?
Jason: Terri Gibbs?
Mike: Never heard of him.
Jason: Me either. Let me see what he’s about.
(pause)
Jason: NO!
Mike: What?
Jason: Dude? That’s a girl.
Mike: IT IS NOT!
Jason: I swear.
Mike: No.
Jason: Yes! Hang on, let me find a picture.
(pause)
Jason: Holy shit.
Mike: What?
Jason: She has an album called I’m A Lady.
(sends Mike the picture, more hysterical laughter on both ends)
Mike: The spelling of “Terri” should have tipped you off.
Jason: That does NOT sound like a girl! AND she’s blind! I guess that explains the hair.

So I want you to know, it’s not like I knew all along. I’d be curious to know if any of you knew Terri was a girl before getting to this part of the entry, especially if you listened to the song first.

See, NOW the song makes sense. The devil is a dude! With blue eyes and blue jeans! And he may or may not want sex of some sort. Maybe all he wants is to give Terri a haircut, I don’t know.

But anyway, about Terri Gibbs: yes, she was blind since birth, and learned to play the piano at the tender age of 3. Her hero was Chet Atkins, who heard her demo tape and suggested she head to Nashville. Unfortunately, success wasn’t forthcoming, and Gibbs wound up pursuing a number of different avenues - college, other bands - before returning to her hometown of Augusta, GA and shopping around another demo tape. The demo made its way to Ed Penney, a producer and songwriter who had penned songs for Jerry Lee Lewis, Anne Murray and Barbara Mandrell. Penney signed her to MCA, and teamed up with Jerry Gillespie to create “Somebody’s Knockin’.” Gillespie was a popular producer, having worked with greats such as B.B. King, Dusty Springfield, Kenny Rogers, The Judds, and….Dan Seals!

“Somebody’s Knockin’” was from Gibbs’ 1981 debut album, and performed admirably: not only did it reach #8 on the Country charts, but crossed over to the Pop charts at #13. It also reached the A/C top five. And apparently nobody else had a problem with knowing she was a woman. It was, apparently, just me. And Mike.

Gibbs never matched the success of “Somebody’s Knockin’,” but that’s not to say she was a one-hit wonder - far from it, actually. She had a number of Top 20 hits on the country charts, toured successfully with George Jones, and won the Academy of Country Music’s “Best New Female Vocalist” award, as well as the Country Music Association’s “Inaugural Horizon” award, which gives recognition to those with really big glasses.

And for all you hard-core gangstas who read Mellow Gold - you probably know “Somebody’s Knockin’” already! Don’t you remember DMX’s song “The Convo” from It’s Dark And Hell Is Hot?

[audio:http://www.wwmmd.net/tunes/inline/dmxknocking.mp3]

You have no idea how long it took me to uncover that one.

Well, now that “Somebody’s Knockin’” has completely forced me to re-evaluate my own skills of critical judgment, I think it’s time to sign off. Thanks for reading and we’ll see you next week for Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Why, hello there, Mellow Miners! My, you’re looking fine today! I’m in a romantic mood. Maybe it’s because it’s Valentine’s Day, or maybe it’s because I’m giddy over making it to Mellow Gold post #20, but I’m in the mood for love. Barry White-type love: looooooove. Awwwww, yeahhhhh.

Oh, wait! I know why I’m in this mood! It’s because of our Mellow song, recommended by David, Scraps, and some guy named “Ugly A” from the comments of our very first Mellow Gold post. So let’s get right to it. Actually, no, let’s not: first, I’ll need you to prepare. Please, readers, get out your shag carpet, your lava lamp, your doorway beads, your incense, and your favorite bong. You know the one: it’s shaped like Michael McDonald’s head and plays “Minute By Minute” every time you take a hit. We’ll need all these things to appropriately tackle this smooth gem.

Starbuck - Moonlight Feels Right (download)

I repeat: Awwwww, yeahhhhh.

What makes “Moonlight Feels Right” a smooth, sexy, Mellow gem? I think a more appropriate question is: what doesn’t? But first, of course, I give you a brief history of the studs of Starbuck.

There you are, folks: Burt Reynolds and the Wolfman. Please note that I don’t believe either of them are wearing shirts underneath their jackets.

Actually, that’s Bruce Blackman, vocalist, keyboardist and producer, on the left, and Bo Wagner, marimba genius, on the right. And they’re here to get into your pants.

Wagner and Blackman were members of a number of different groups and musical projects before forming Starbuck. Wagner, if you can believe it, was once a musical director for Liberace. (I’m just going to let that one settle in.) The group went through enough personnel changes that my head is spinning. Let’s just leave it at this: a NYC record company, Private Stock Records, signed the group in 1975 and released “Moonlight Feels Right,” which went virtually unplayed until a DJ in Alabama picked up on it in 1976. (It seems we hear these DJ hero stories frequently around here, don’t we?) “Moonlight” was a smash, eventually peaking at #3 during the last week of July 1976.

Starbuck made a few other appearances in the Top 100, but personally, I don’t consider any of them hits. Maybe “Everybody Be Dancin’,” which hit #38, but it’s clear that it’s this one song for which Starbuck will always be remembered. And that’s clearly okay with Blackman, as he named the official Starbuck website MoonlightFeelsRight.com, which is where I attained most of this information. I like that the site doesn’t officially say it’s owned by Blackman, but come on. Only he could have written some of these detailed explanations in the footnotes of the discography.

My favorite part of the site, though, is the bio, which goes through the soap opera of member changes, and finishes with the “where are they now?” section (bold emphasis mine):

Today Blackman serves as CEO of his own music publishing and production companies. He is producing an album project on his daughter Sarah along with writing and producing for several other artists. He is affiliated with Sony/ATV and is busy working on several movie soundtrack projects. Wagner’s whereabouts are unknown. The other members of Starbuck continue to perform at various venues in the Atlanta area.

Here’s my theory: Wagner has since eaten the former members of Starbuck and currently is living in the Ozarks, living off the land and talking with bears.

But now, it’s time to analyze the song itself, which was responsible for 20% of all venereal diseases contracted in 1976. Lay back and relax as Starbuck takes you on a Mellow journey…to the skies!

First, the music. You guys remember Alan O’Day’s “allll riiiight” from “Undercover Angel?” Yeah. The entire song is sung in that voice. And the very first thing we hear in the entire song? A “wah” sound from the guitar. Then, lots of synths. I guarantee you that the guys in Starbuck already had their slacks down around their ankles by this point.

The rest of the verses feature light synth and marimba (more on the marimba in a second), leading up to the chorus: synthmania! And guess what? The “wah” is back! I don’t know (as in “I don’t care”) who played guitar on this one, but can you imagine being at the session? “No, Tony, all we need is like three notes, total. No, just three. And your Wah-wah pedal. You did bring your Wah-wah pedal, right? No? Jesus. You know it’s 1976, right? You’re fired.”

After verse two, we’re treated to an extended instrumental interlude: 24 bars’ worth, with 16 going to Wolfman’s marimba. Yes! Now this is what we needed: a marimba solo! Actually, I’ll be completely honest with you: this marimba solo kicks some major ass. I’m giving props to Blackman for allowing Wagner to go to town. I don’t know if there was a video for “Moonlight Feels Right,” but if there had been, it would have featured Wagner doing a tap-dance on a huge marimba. It would have been really bad green-screen, too. After “Moonlight Feels Right,” I imagine marimba players were either really excited to finally lose their virginity, or thought, “damn, now I have to get a haircut.”

The solo that follows the marimba is all synth, but is also impressive. In fact, I dare say it’s Stevie Wonder-esque. It kind of reminds me of the instrumental section at the end of “Summer Soft.” Then, we’re back into the verses, surrounded by - you guessed it - swirling synth and marimba. I’ll give this song credit for not trying to overextend itself: Blackman knows his way around those synthesizers, and if his only intention was to write a song slick n’ smooth enough to get him and Wolfie McWolfenstein some poontang…mission accomplished.

Let’s talk lyrics. And these lyrics, while intending to convey seduction, really only convey one thing: stohhhhned.

The wind blew some luck in my direction
I caught it in my hands today
I finally made a tricky French connection
you winked and gave me your o.k.
I’ll take you on a trip beside the ocean
and drop the top at Chesapeake Bay
ain’t nothing like the sky to dose a potion
the moon’ll send you on your way

Dude. Give me your keys. “Ain’t nothing like the sky to dose a potion?” What does that even mean? You don’t know, do you, Bruce? And the truth of the matter is: it’s okay. Because you definitely got laid as a result. Point: Blackman.

The lyrics get better. No, worse. No, better. Oh shit, I can’t decide.

We’ll lay back and observe the constellations
and watch the moon smiling bright
I’ll play the radio on southern stations
’cause southern belles are hell at night

Forgive me - I don’t expect you to understand this, but for some reason, those last two lines remind of this brilliant couplet from “Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta:”

But real gangsta-ass niggas don’t flex nuts
Cuz real gangsta-ass niggas know they got em

Sorry, I had to get that off my chest. Don’t spend any time trying to figure out how I tied Starbuck to the Geto Boys. Instead, spend your time explaining to me that whole “southern stations” bit. I’m beginning to wonder if this song was actually written during sex.

you say you came to Baltimore from Ole Miss
a class of ‘74 gold ring (note: that’s pronounced “seven-four.” Smooth.)
the eastern moon looks ready for a wet kiss
to make the tide rise again

Okay. Point one: what’s with all the geography in this song? Chesapeake Bay? Baltimore? Ole Miss? Who cares? Was it just to get a rhyme with “kiss?” And speaking of the above-mentioned kiss, point two: ewwwww. Seriously? Ewww. “The eastern moon looks ready for a wet kiss?” Was it ‘ludes, Bruce? I’m thinking ‘ludes. You’re sick, dude, if you want to tongue-kiss the freakin’ moon.

That’s pretty much it for the lyrics, friends, other than the line “You guys, I am so high right now,” which was wisely edited out. But there’s one thing I’ve not mentioned as of yet. It’s at the end of every verse: “hahahaha.” It’s a creepy Bruce Blackman cackle. And it’s the only thing in the song that makes me wonder: maybe this guy wasn’t as cool as we think. Maybe he’s not singing this song to a girl. Maybe he’s sitting on a beach by himself, singing it to his faithful German Shepherd as they share a pint of Rocky Road. Actually, I have a scenario that’s much more likely: he did get the girl, and all was cool until Sunday morning, when his mom knocked on his door announcing that his laundry was ready to be put away.

While listening to “Moonlight Feels Right,” a picture of the singer came into my head. Except it wasn’t Blackman. I could see it vividly, but couldn’t place my finger on who it was. Then, finally, I figured it out.

Matthew McConaughey.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a healthy blend of studly and sketchy. I can just completely picture him singing this song and totally getting boatloads of nookie (boatloads!) afterwards. I guess we should all be so lucky.

Note: after finishing this entry, I found a blog post on “Moonlight Feels Right” that clearly was written by my long-lost cousin or something. It’s hysterical, and I encourage you to read it. I’m mentioning this because if you ever came across it on your own, you’d swear I plagiarized this whole Mellow Gold Adventure. I promise you, I didn’t - and sadly, his post makes me feel like I’m the least original person on the planet: he even bolded the same part of the Starbuck biography in his writing. And here I thought I was going to go without a hetero Mellow valentine this year!

Well, my mellow friends, I hope that today’s song has put you in the mood for lovin’. Or in the mood for putting away your laundry. Either way, happy Valentine’s Day and we’ll see you next week for another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

Hello everybody, and welcome back to yet another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold! Thanks for waiting patiently an extra day, although after today’s choice, who knows? Maybe you’ll wish I had skipped the week altogether! Brace yourself, my wimpy friends.

John Lennon - Woman (download)

Did it suddenly get cold in here?

I know what you’re thinking: Could it be? Could a Beatle really be capable of Mellow Gold? More specifically, could John Lennon - the man responsible for gut-wrenching songs like “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” “Instant Karma!” and “Cold Turkey” and write something so smooth, so sensitive, so wimpy?

You bet your Mellow-lovin’ ass he could.

John Lennon was originally a member of a band called The Beatles, and…just kidding. I don’t need to waste any space here giving you a biography on John Lennon. You’re probably familiar with some of the details relevant to “Woman,” but just in case, here’s what you need to know: while on vacation in Bermuda, Lennon had an epiphany that led to his opening statement: women are “the other half of the sky.” In an interview with Rolling Stone just three days before his death, Lennon claimed the song was reminiscent of the Beatles track “Girl,” but “a grown-up version.”

“Woman” was included on the Lennon/Yoko Ono album Double Fantasy, Lennon’s first album since 1975’s Rock and Roll. The album was the work of a man content with his life, his family, and his love - apparent in songs like “(Just Like) Starting Over,” “Watching The Wheels,” “Beautiful Boy,” and, of course, the song currently under discussion.

Before we go on to discuss “Woman,” I’m going to ask you to do something for me: I want you to try and be objective about this song. Even my last paragraph most likely brings up memories of where you were when you heard Lennon was shot. (For my part, I believe I was still in diapers…and I was 12 at the time! Thank you! Don’t forget to tip your waitress!) I know it’s hard to hear this song - and perhaps anything off of Double Fantasy - and not think about what could have been if he hadn’t been taken away from us. I think about this all the time. But let’s focus, people. We’re here to talk about The Mellow.

Now, we’ve never defined actual criteria for Mellow Gold, although it’s been discussed in the comments. I think it’s better that we leave it vague, don’t you? Because we know Mellow Gold when we hear it, somehow, even if a song doesn’t necessarily fit any pre-established criteria, and I think that counts for something.

That being said, uh…John Lennon’s “Woman” does seem to meet some of the criteria we’ve used on occasion to figure out if a song fits into Mellow Gold. Let’s look:

Completely effusive lyrics fawning over female………..check
Lots of “oooohs” or other nonsense words to illustrate said lyrics………..check
Self-effacing in presence of female………..check
Calling female by a name like “lady” or “woman”………..check
Gentle female backing vocals………..check
Key change………..check

Who’s writing silly love songs now?

Lyrically, there’s no denying the wuss factor. The whole song is literally one long, overdramatic worshipfest at the knees of his beloved. I know it’s hard to imagine, but what if this was Paul Davis, or Dan Hill? We know the woman wouldn’t have stuck around. (Hard to think the same when it’s John and Yoko, right? I know objectivity is hard. Stay with me.) I mean, it’s hard to take some of these lines seriously when you’re just reading them:

Woman I know you understand
The little child inside of the man
Please remember my life is in your hands

Now that’s some Mellow, heavy-handed, overdramatic stuff right there.

Actually, there’s one great Lennon line in here. It’s the opening line: “Woman, I can hardly express my mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness.” “Mixed emotions?” Like what? Like, “ehh, yeah, I was thoughtless when I yelled at her, but in all fairness, she was being a complete bitch that day she didn’t tell me Ringo called asking for money…”

How about the chorus? The “doo doo doo, etc” refrain has been used in many Mellow Gold tunes (”Thunder Island,” anybody?), but I’m not sure if it’s been used to such an extent that it winds up defining most of the choruses. I thought the chorus was supposed to drive the point of the verses home to the listener. “Ooooooh, well well, doo doo doo doo doo” isn’t really making me think, “wow, he’s serious about this shit!”

Musically, as I said before, it’s hard to believe that this Lennon is the same Lennon who screamed through the end of “Cold Turkey.” But it’s true. This song couldn’t get any gentler. It’s damn near ethereal at points. It treads so lightly that I’m actually surprised the song works up the guts to change keys.

Now, I understand that it probably seems like I’m really picking on “Woman.” Well, kind of. But the truth is that I love “Woman,” despite it almost being ruined for me a few years ago (more on that in a minute). I can’t say that I’m completely unbiased by John, Yoko, the comeback and the romantic fairy tale cut short, etc, but being that I heard it when I was young - long before I knew anything about John Lennon - I know that I love it despite all these things. And it’s really all about the chorus for me: the multiple Lennons, combined with the backing vocals - even if he’s just singing stupid words, it works - and becomes even more poignant with the last chorus, when he finds the words to say what he’s been feeling.

Here’s how much I enjoy this song: as you may know if you read his blog, Mike spends just about any warm evening playing to crowds in Washington Square Park. He’s invited me down many times, but I’m always reluctant; it just doesn’t feel like my scene for some reason. One summer evening, I decided to give it a try. Mike and I played by ourselves for a while, and then one of the known “leaders” of the park jams showed up to, well, lead. Except his version of “leading” was “I’ll choose the songs and sing them and try to get laid by looking and sounding really sensitive, despite the fact that I kind of sound like a weasel on helium. And when it’s not my turn to choose a song or sing one, I’ll sulk.”

Needless to say, I thought this guy was a complete, egomaniacal douchebag. (And I’ll also say that it is taking every ounce of my being not to link to his MySpace page right now.) And then - you guessed it - he sang whined “Woman.” And gave me dirty looks when I tried to sing backing vocals. (You should have seen his face when I sang lead on “Daniel.”) That’s right: I tried to sing backup for this tool singing “Woman” which, with his whine, sounded more like “Ramen.” At Mike’s behest, I recorded my impression of him singing the word. This is exactly what he sounded like. Seriously.

[audio:http://www.wwmmd.net/tunes/inline/ramen.mp3]

Ugh, I felt dirty. (Don’t you?) I left soon afterwards and was like, “fuck this guy, fuck ‘Woman,’ fuck John Lennon…” I didn’t listen to that song for about six months. But I did come back to it. And I never thought I’d be able to do it, but I was actually able to get his image out of my head when I listened to it, and remember what I loved about the song in the first place. Witness the power of “Woman.” (How much do I owe you guys for therapy?)

So John Lennon, you go with your Mellow self. And for the rest of you, hope you enjoyed (or at least will eventually forgive me for my blasphemy), and we’ll see you again next week for another edition of Adventures Through The Mines Of Mellow Gold!

There’s a scene in one of my favorite TV shows, Arrested Development - specifically, the episode entitled “Good Grief” - that manages to be both hysterical and sad at the same time (which, of course, is exactly the point). And I just happen to have a clip available (the Internet is so wonderful).

I mention this clip because it’s what I think of when I hear today’s Mellow Gold song. In fact, remove Guaraldi’s “Christmastime Is Here” from the scene altogether; replace it with this gem.

Michael Johnson - Bluer Than Blue (download)

This Mellow Gold classic comes to us courtesy of Robert, our frequent, prolific commentator (check out his blog, Mulberry Panda 96, for more great writing). Robert knows his Mellow, and found this song on Volume 21 of the Have A Nice Day: Super Hits Of The ’70s compilation. Let’s not ask him if he has 1-20.

Michael Johnson has had quite the career, even before the success of “Bluer Than Blue.” He picked up the guitar after contracting a severe case of pneumonia at the age of 13. Confined to a hospital bed set up in his family living room, Johnson taught himself how to play the instrument, and as soon as he was well, began playing gigs around his homebase of Denver. As a college sophomore, Johnson entered and won a nationwide talent contest; the prizes were a reel-to-reel recorder (which was broken) a two-week engagement at a well-established Chicago coffeehouse (for which he wasn’t paid), and a contract for one record under Epic Records (”Hills,” from a song written at age fifteen, for which he earned a total of eleven cents for 23 copies sold). What a deal, huh? However, the experience was invaluable - the coffeehouse hired him (for pay, this time) for about 20 weeks, and Johnson became passionate enough about his guitar to move to Spain for a year, learning classical guitar from Graciano Tarrago.

Johnson missed singing, however, and soon moved back to the States. There, he joined the Chad Mitchell Trio, along with David Boise and some guy named John Denver. (Beats me.) The group toured as “Denver, Boise and Johnson” (since, y’know, no original members of the trio were still involved), but soon disbanded. (You can see a rare clip of the trio performing here.) Johnson continued to perform (including a part in the Off-Broadway revue Jacques Brel Is Alive And Well And Living In Paris), and in 1973 was signed to Atco, under Atlantic Records, as a folk artist. His first album, There Is A Breeze, was produced by Phil Ramone and Peter “I, Too, Am Torn Between Two Lovers” Yarrow, and featured Johnson’s friend Leo Kottke.

Johnson recorded two other albums with limited success, and began to look in different directions. He even contemplated joining a trio - in fact, here’s a rare picture of him rehearsing with none other than Mary MacGregor! (And Mark Henley! And Mark Henley’s dog! Mellow Gold is so exciting!)

I know what you’re thinking: they’re the two lovers!

Anyway, in search of his new, hopefully more mainstream direction, Johnson went to Nashville and recorded a two-song demo to shop to the labels. One song was “Almost Like Being In Love” from the musical Brigadoon, and the other was “Bluer Than Blue,” written by Randy Goodrum (who has penned, among other songs, “Oh Sherrie” and Chicago’s “If She Would Have Been Faithful”). Chosen from a number of demos by Johnson and his producers, Johnson was initially skeptical about the mainstream appeal of a song lamenting the end of a long-time relationship. However, he was dead wrong: EMI America (then a new label) picked Johnson up immediately, and released the single without any changes to the original demo. “Bluer Than Blue” shot up to #1 on the AC chart, and reached #12 on the pop charts in the Spring of 1978.

Does any song live up to its title more than this one? “Mas Triste Que La Tristeza” “Bluer Than Blue” sure packs one hell of an emotional wallop on a number of levels. Musically, the instrumentation couldn’t be any more depressing - the plaintive piano, the gentle guitar, the soft drums, and those oh-so-woeful strings. It sounds like every single musician had his or her head hanging as low as possible while recording. In fact, it’s a wonder that one of the musicians didn’t try and stick his bow straight through his heart after this session. Did they have Zoloft in ‘78? How did these guys leave “Bluer Than Blue” and not attempt suicide?

Somehow, though, the music is the kind of depressing that doesn’t necessarily make you feel worse. Instead, it consoles you when you’re actually feeling this way. And let’s talk about the vocal: Johnson may not have had any formal acting experience before joining the cast of Jacques Brel, but clearly he learned something: the sadness that he imbues in his lead vocal is damn near heartbreaking.

Lyrically, this song is a little different from other Mellow Gold hits we’ve covered - but you’d never know it if you went straight for the chorus. It’s true that it doesn’t get any mellower than “Bluer than blue/Sadder than sad/You’re the only light this empty room has ever had.” A chorus such as this only makes you feel bad in that “why don’t you go call Dan Hill or something and leave me alone” kinda way. But Goodrum gives the song a little twist in each of the verses: each one is our protagonist trying his darndest to be optimistic in the middle of a heartbreaking moment.

After you go
I can catch up on my reading
After you go
I’ll have a lot more time for sleeping
And when you’re gone
It looks like things are gonna be a lot easier
Life will be a breeze, you know
I really should be glad

And let’s not forget this important point: she hasn’t actually left yet! This, of course, leads us to the question of what’s sadder: when she’s actually gone, or when she’s still there, and you know it’s over…yet, it’s not over? It’s a matter of opinion, but I’m going with the latter. And all of this - the false optimism and the underlying heartbreak - is there in Johnson’s vocal.

Y’know, if I were to make a video for this song, it’d have Johnson lying on the couch in an empty apartment, that book that he’s been dying to read in his hands, sadly staring at the ceiling…ooh, and then the choruses would have a split-screen: one side with him in the apartment, and the other with him singing directly to camera! Oh wait….that was the video: