Posts Tagged ‘Donny Osmond’

Unsolicited Career Advice for … Rush

This is a memo written in 1977 to the Canadian management of Rush. If pictures from this period are any indication, Uncle Donnie had taken to sporting a green Mohawk for at least several months that year. -RS

TO: Managers of Rush
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career Advice

You, my friends, have a great property in this band Rush. I just saw them the other night at the Fitchburg Theater, and I was really surprised. Well, the first thing that surprised me was the fact that the Vibrators weren’t playing at the Fitchburg—I’d gotten my nights mixed up and missed their concert with Stinky Toys and Métal Urbain. This really sucks, because, as it turned out, most of Stinky Toys got deported back to France after the show. That, and, well, I found out the Vibrators, Stinky Toys and Métal Urbain weren’t even booked at the Fitchburg, but at Needles and Pins, a bar down the street from the Fitchburg. What can I tell you? It was a long week.

Anyway, so I stayed to see Rush and some band called Max Webster put on a hell of a loud show. And even though I realize I’m not exactly the biggest authority on this so-called “progressive” scene (I was the only one in attendance with any kind of nose piercings, but I don’t think anyone else noticed), I think there’s something really special about a band that can perform 15-minute-long songs about space travel and intergalactic politics. And by special, I mean—well, special. Not my usual cup of vinegar, but I didn’t leave early, and that’s saying something.

Now, since I am a member in good standing of this “industry,” such as it is, I feel I am uniquely qualified to offer you some advice on how to best position your property, this band Rush, for maximum effect, both in the U.S. and abroad. Certainly, you’re aware of a new form of revolutionary sound sweeping through England and certain pockets of the U.S.—call it punk rock, call it just punk, call it whatever you want to call it; it’s here to stay, my friends. If you handle Rush properly, you should be able to grab a piece of this uprising and prosper. Here are my ideas: (more…)

Death by Power Ballad: Bonnie Tyler, “Lovers Again”

Back in her late-70s, “It’s a Heartache” period, gravelly voiced Bonnie Tyler was viewed chiefly as Rod Stewart with a vagina (a designation many have claimed simply describes Stewart himself). When that dubious crown was rather quickly lifted from her head and placed just above the Bette Davis eyes of Kim Carnes, Tyler was left bereft of both an identifying hook for her career, as well as the hit songs that usually comprise such a career. This unfortunate situation lasted until she encountered three words that completely turned her life and livelihood around:

Jim. Fucking. Steinman.

Once Meat Loaf’s popularity had disappeared into a fog of dry ice, Steinman was left with a thousand overblown ideas and no one to turn them into crappy records. Oh, sure, he had made a ridiculous solo album (Bad for Good) with ideas he had been saving for Bat Out of Hell’s sequel, but he needed a unique, powerful voice worthy of his theatrical, pomporific muse, and his mangy tenor wasn’t gonna cut it.

See, Steinman has long harbored the wish to be another Andrew Lloyd Webber, when wasn’t trying to recreate Springsteen’s Born to Run, and in Bonnie Tyler, he found just the set of pipes he needed to kinda-sorta do both. He (over)produced her 1983 smash Faster than the Speed of Night, with its internationally loved/reviled hit “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” and the two began what could only have been a beautiful/loud/bombastic partnership. They continued their winning streak with “Holding Out for a Hero,” another Steinman song most of us associate with hick teenagers playing chicken with tractors. (more…)

Unsolicited Career Advice for … Rick James

In 1967, Rick James was just getting out of military prison, having served a year for going AWOL from the Navy, and was pondering a return to music with the Mynah Birds, a band that had been signed to Motown and had briefly included Neil Young on guitar. Few people know that James at this time was a tea-totaling, God-fearing, neatly groomed young man who was shy around women and had never heard of funk. Uncle Donnie intended to set him straight and help him spice up his life and career in this 32-year-old memo. – RS

TO: Rick James
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career Advice

Hi, Rick. Don Skwatzenschitz here; we met at the Motown building about a year and a half ago, while you and the Mynah Birds were recording “It’s My Time.” That should have been a hit, but we all know you had to meet your military obligation, and it’s good you ‘fessed up and faced the music, so to speak. Feels good to not having that hanging over your head, doesn’t it? By the way, how’s the food in the Brooklyn Brig?

Rick, you are a singular talent, but it has to be nurtured. I know you’re thinking about going back to Motown, but I ask you to reconsider. There are new musical worlds being discovered in places like San Francisco, Berkeley, and right around the corner from where I’m writing—Haverhill, Massachusetts (we have a swingin’ acid rock collective nearby called Captain Dusty Verkota and His Electric Hookah All-Stars. You should come by and check them out, next time you’re around). Soul music is great—you know me; I’m all about the soul of things. But there are other avenues of expression to consider. And, for God’s sake, don’t act so scared around the ladies! You’re a good-looking guy! (more…)

You Again?: Michael Bolton, “One World, One Love”

Some albums defy the usual judgments of good or bad—they’re just wrong. I’m thinking of Liz Phair’s major label records (with the exception of the chorus of “Extraordinary”); or Sonny Bono’s post-divorce nervous breakdown Inner Views; M.C. Hammer’s gangsta record; Kiss’ The Elder; Aretha Franklin’s La Diva; or the most recent Chris Cornell solo misstep. They’re each so conceptually incongruent with the strengths of the artist, there’s no way in hell the actual performance could be anything but an oxygen-sucking, dust-kicking disaster.

The cloud o’ doom has descended upon one Michael Bolton, who really should be doing the Vegas thing right about now, but who apparently has the need to prove his relevance in whatever passes for the pop marketplace these days. Thus, the lady-slayin’, soul-crapping loverman has brought in the arguable talents of Ne-Yo, Lady Gaga, and others to introduce his creamy Boltony goodness to the kiddies in their Black Eyed Peas t-shirts, TiVo-ing Glee so they can line up to see the new Fame movie. Predictably, he stumbles, like a Jonas uncle who tippled a little too much Jesus juice at the family prayer picnic.

Again, I say, Bolton shouldn’t be doing this. He hasn’t had so much as a single gold record in 11 years, and had seemed to be quite content releasing cover albums that only about 100,000 or so people around the world really cared to hear. Fine—he’s a niche artist now, an indie, if you want to stretch the term a bit. He’s 56 and has enough hits behind him to put on a killer Celine Dion-like thing four or five nights a week at Harrah’s or Caesars Palace, and no one would begrudge him. He could put in ten or 12 years, make a nice living, develop a little blackjack habit, then retire. Right? Right?

Wrong. Aw hell (more…)

Death by Power Ballad: Bon Jovi, “Silent Night”

Had Bon Jovi been killed in a horrific, fiery airplane crash in 1985, we would remember them much differently than we do today. Had they experienced a painful, flesh-melting demise prior to recording 1986’s monster Slippery When Wet album, we would recognize the band’s name strictly as a hair metal afterthought, a tragic rock and roll footnote. They would have been seen as the perennial opening band, having done the warm-up honors for the Scorpions, KISS, Ratt, and others before their plane exploded in midair and crashed, leaving a trail of flaming debris scattered somewhere in the hinterlands, far from civilization.

Granted, the power ballad arts would have been denied a number of genre classics, had the band’s still-smoking corpses been strewn across a wide swath of land, in and around the crash site. We, of course, would know not of “Always,” “Bed of Roses,” “Never Say Goodbye,” “This Ain’t a Love Song,” or “I’ll Be There for You,” just as surely as the deceased Richie Sambora would never know the touch of Heather Locklear, or taste the sweet nectar of her kisses, sweat, and other exquisite excretions one cannot experience from one’s future beloved when one’s tongue is reduced to ash by gallons of exploding jet fuel before one even meets said beloved. (more…)

Unsolicited Career Advice for … Courtney Love

Uncle Donnie has a soft spot for lost causes, and there are none more lost than Ms. Love. This recent missive outlines his concerns, and his plans to help her rise again. -RS

TO: Courtney Love
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career Advice

You know, dear Courtney, we all feel a little lost sometimes. I remember the two and a half years between Jackson Browne’s Running on Empty and Hold Out records—you were just a kid, but trust me, they were long, lean years with no new JB poetry to get us all through. Jimmy Carter was in the White House, and you could just see the effect Browne’s absence had on him. Everything seemed to go straight to hell, without passing “Go,” without collecting $200 in worthless cash.

But we all snap out of it. In the summer of 1980, I turned on the radio and heard those wonderful words—”Down on the boulevard, they take it hard / They look at life with such disregard.” I wept. Openly. Mitzi and I were in the old Impala, cruising down Highway 1 at night, looking for a place to pull off and have a little shtup, you know? And then I heard the song and all thoughts of shtupping vanished, disappointing Mitzi horribly. But the voice was back, and his new words had … well, they had very little meaning, but I clung to them anyway. Didn’t help Jimmy Carter, though.

But you, Courtney, have taken feeling lost to a whole new level. We all had such hopes for you, too—the brave widow, newly single mom, protecting her husband’s legacy while establishing one of her own. That was before the anus wax meltdown in 2003, and the feud with Dave and Krist, and the Pam Anderson roast, or any of the other numerous breakdowns. The latest breakdown, though—the whole Kurt/Guitar Hero/Bon Jovi thing—is the last straw. We were merely worried about your safety before, dear—now we’re concerned about your sanity. You simply must turn it around—and I have just the plan: (more…)

CD Review: Built to Spill, “There Is No Enemy”

Built to Spill, There is No Enemy (2009, Warner Bros.)
Purchase this album (Amazon)

If Doug Martsch sang like Dave Grohl, Rivers Cuomo, or even Thom Yorke, Built to Spill would be huge, arena-packin’ gunslingers and rich bastards, to boot. In a parallel universe, Martsch might have killed Chris Martin in some combination one-on-one basketball game-cum-minor celebrity death match, ridding us of Coldplay and winning the hand of Gwyneth Paltrow, only to discard her upon hearing her Oprah-fied tips on beauty and spiritual wellness. Built to Spill might’ve then invaded some minor republic like Kalmykia, slaying its meager armed forces with nothing but the brute volume of their amplification and building a towering monument to the band’s undisputed leader, made entirely of reconstituted Fender and Gibson products and melted-down copies of Coldplay’s X&Y. The new nation’s national anthem would have been Neil Young’s “Love and Only Love”—a ten-minute distorted guitar manifesto, the kind King Doug loves and would insist upon being added to state radio playlists.

The Idaho-born Martsch, in other words, is a fucking god, but his reedy, nasally singing voice—a hallmark of every Built to Spill album—is the very thing that keeps his band from being the kind of international proggy juggernaut those cutie-pies in Muse currently are. Things are not bound to change with There Is No Enemy, good as it is, as Martsch’s elastic whine once again blends into the overall sound of the band, becoming, in effect, another instrumental layer you either grasp or you don’t. Even without many immediately discernible lyrics, though, the album’s songs still satisfy, displaying the full and mighty power of Built to Spill in all its parallel universe-shakin’ glory. (more…)

Unsolicited Career Advice for … Donny Osmond

So Lev comes over to my place last week—first time he’s been around in a while. We have a few beers and watch Tiger Woods implode, split a calzone from Napoli’s, chat a bit. He gets up to leave and, almost as an afterthought, tells me he has more Uncle Donnie memos in his car. Of course, I get pissed—I would have much rather spent the afternoon reading through Uncle Donnie’s memos than watching golf. Lev probably knew that, but his TV was broken and he really wanted to watch Tiger. Whatever.

This is a recent missive Uncle Donnie sent to one particular toothy Mormon Vegas singer. Methinks there might have been ulterior motives in play, though. -RS

TO: Donny Osmond
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career Advice

From one Don to another, Donny, we need to get you out there, in a real way. Twenty years since your last hit is too long. Now, I understand you might not think the public is ready for you to reemerge, but you’re wrong, Donny-Boy. Really wrong.

Right now, this very minute, I could get on the facsimile machine and book you a US tour that would take you from Utah to the Florida panhandle, up to Maine, over to California, and back to Utah again. Seventy, eighty shows. And we could do it all in around six weeks, because we’d be playing in under-utilized performance spaces: abandoned Circuit City storefronts. Not inside the stores, mind you; outside them, on the sidewalk. Guerrilla style, like those Rage Against the Machine guys. Set up, play a half hour—”Puppy Love,” “Sacred Emotion,” “Go Away Little Girl,” “One Bad Apple,” “Love Me for a Reason,” maybe a cover of something current, then “Soldier of Love,” done—then pack up and move on to the next place. We could do three or four a day, depending on the routing. Think about it. People hanging around outside abandoned Circuit City storefronts are hungry for your music, and they don’t even know it. (more…)

Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ’80s, Part 65

feeders52

This past Monday my ability to come up with future IGMs (Inappropriate Ghetto Moments) was squelched by the po-po. No longer will I be able to drive through the ghetto on the way home with my iPod on Shuffle and watch the horror as crack whores hear Bette Midler’s “The Rose” blasting out my ride. See, yours truly was listening to “Mouth For War” by Pantera really loud and a fine officer in my borough pulled me over for violating the noise ordinance that was passed just a few months earlier. So rather than take the $1000 fine and the 30 days in jail, I’m going to have to turn my music down, which means I’ll pretty much just be turning it off now since music does nothing for me unless it’s loud. As a buddy pointed out, I’m so metal that my town can’t handle it. So horns high for this one, I suppose.

Now, rather than split the letter O up into two small posts, I’ve gone huge and given you the entire letter in one shot. Enjoy close to 30 tracks from the 15th letter of the alphabet as we look at more Bottom Feeders from the Billboard Hot 100 chart during the 1980s.

Oak
“Set the Night on Fire” — 1980, #71 (download)

Oak Sometimes Oak, sometimes Oak & Rick Pinette, sometimes Rick Pinette & Oak and even sometimes Oak & the Rick Pinette Band, this multinamed crew will always have a place in my musical heart. Their #36 hit earlier in 1980, “King of the Hill,” was easily the hardest of the all the top 40 songs to find and the first time I really had to dig to find a track. I searched high and low for that self-titled debut album for years with no luck, until I found not only a copy, but an autographed one at that (surely adding about 63 cents in value to it.) Their second hit, “Set the Night on Fire,” was from the album of the same name, which I still don’t own. I settled for the 45 which was also quite a pain in the ass to acquire. This was back in the day where I was excited to listen to the rarer stuff and almost forced myself to enjoy it based on the amount of work I put in. It was only later on that I realized most of these tough-to-find tracks are rare for good reason. But Oak and now-and-then Rick Pinette, you have avoided my wrath.

Oak Ridge Boys
“So Fine” — 1982, #76 (download)
“American Made” — 1983, #72 (download)

OakRidgeBoysGod, I hate the Oak Ridge Boys. “So Fine” is such a poor song. I know it was a cover of a tune by the Fiestas and I’ve never heard that version, but it can’t be any better ‘cause it’s just poorly written to begin with. Obviously, the Oak Ridge Boys didn’t think so and my taste in music is suspect anyway. But that opening two seconds of keyboards sounds exactly like an ‘80s sitcom theme song (someone tell me which one though!) Maybe the biggest problem I have with the Oak Ridge Boys is very evident on “American Made” which is that bass vocalist Richard Sterban just sounds so out of place with the other vocalists on a lot of tracks. The other problem that I have is that every time I run to the record store I have to weed through 10,000 copies of Oak Ridge Boys records and I swear that every time I find ones I’ve never seen before. They put out 16 damn albums in the decade. No one needs 16 albums in 10 years.

(more…)

CHART ATTACK!: 5/20/78

Jeff sucks!
Howdy folks! Welcome back to another edition of CHART ATTACK! I can’t go any further without letting you know that today is the birthday of our grand poobah, Jeff Giles! Happy birthday, buddy! If you’d like to get Jeff a little something, I have it on good authority that he likes bags of poo; e-mail me privately. In the meantime, though, sit back and enjoy as we attack a pretty strong Top 10, filled with all sorts of delicious Gibbness and a couple of nice duets. It’s all part of May 20, 1978!

10. Night Fever — Bee Gees Amazon iTunes
9. Imaginary Lover — Atlanta Rhythm Section Amazon iTunes
8. Count on Me — Jefferson Starship Amazon iTunes
7. Feels So Good — Chuck Mangione Amazon iTunes
6. Shadow Dancing — Andy Gibb Amazon
5. If I Can’t Have You — Yvonne Elliman Amazon iTunes
4. You’re the One That I Want — John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John Amazon iTunes
3. Too Much, Too Little, Too Late — Johnny Mathis & Deniece Williams Amazon iTunes
2. The Closer I Get to You — Roberta Flack with Donny Hathaway Amazon iTunes
1. With a Little Luck — Wings Amazon iTunes

10. Night Fever — Bee Gees

It’s kind of difficult to cover any chart from 1977 or 1978 without running into a Gibb. Here a Gibb, there a Gibb, everywhere a whiny unintelligible falsetto Gibb Gibb. But it’s hard for me to complain about it, because the majority of their songs from this period are awesome — the three Gibb-related (Gibbish?) tracks on this chart being no exception.

Take “Night Fever.” I can’t listen to “Night Fever” while I’m walking, because if I do, I start strutting down the street. I even wind up thinking I look like Tony Manero, which I don’t. I look like Tony Manero’s dwarf-albino hybrid cousin. Although all of the instrumentation is pretty much perfect (I’m betting they busted at least one wah-wah pedal in the studio), I think it’s the drums that get me struttin’ — simple, yet perfect. The drum track is similar to the one in “Stayin’ Alive,” which makes sense: drummer Dennis Byron was unavailable during the “Stayin’ Alive” sessions, so engineer Karl Richardson took a snippet of drums from “Night Fever” and looped them together to create the iconic song.

Here’s another fun little trivia fact: the Gibb influence reached #1 on the Billboard chart in one way or another from December 24, 1977 to May 13, 1978, with one exception — Player took over the charts for three weeks in February with “Baby Come Back.” Which is also awesome.

The video for “Night Fever” remained unreleased until 2004, oddly enough. Not sure why, but I have a feeling it had to do with Barry not wanting to be seen without his beard.

Here’s a version of “Night Fever” by a group called Blackfoot Brothers, taken from a bluegrass tribute album called Saturday Night Hay Fever. (sigh) I first heard it on Coverville, which features an entire Saturday Night Fever tribute show, well worth the listen.

Blackfoot Brothers — Night Fever (download)

9. Imaginary Lover — Atlanta Rhythm Section

I had so much to say about “Night Fever,” didn’t I? And now I have very little to say about “Imaginary Lover.” It’s been suggested as a track for Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold, but I’m just so incredibly bored by it. I’m even bored by the extensive, extensive, extensive history of Atlanta Rhythm Section on Wikipedia. I can’t get through it, and you can’t make me. I will, however, be happy to lead you to this page, where you can read the lyrics to “Imaginary Lover” and hear a MIDI version of the song. Remember when there were so many webpages that included MIDI versions of songs, because mp3s hadn’t yet made their way to the Internet? I’m so happy that this page is still up. I love you, Angelfire.com.

Now, don’t get me wrong — these lyrics totally fall into Mellow Gold category. The guy’s rhapsodizing about how wonderful it is to have an imaginary lover, because they “never turn you down,” “never disagree,” and “they’re always there when you need satisfaction guaranteed.” I have just taken a Sharpie and written “Imaginary Lover” on my left hand. (Note: this joke was kind of obvious, so just to switch things up, I made the joke about my left hand instead of my right.)

Here’s the video for “Imaginary Lover.” It’s kind of awesome for a few reasons.

First, it opens with a shot of a bunch of tushies (:15 for you people with imaginary lovers out there). Then the lead singer is wearing a shirt with the number “69″ on it, and don’t you dare tell me that was unintentional. Check out the long hair/facial hair/sunglasses on these guys. Perfect. Then there are all these shots of half-naked pinup girls, as if we couldn’t figure out that the dude was talking about masturbating. Jesus Christ. And after that, well…okay, I stopped the video at 2:40. I just can’t get through this goddamn song! BORING.

(Although now that I look back, I guess I could have written a Mellow Gold piece on this song. Oh well.)

8. Count on Me — Jefferson Starship

Okay, but seriously: now I really don’t have anything to say. I don’t know how this happened, but I kind of missed the whole Jefferson Starship thing. I know Jefferson Airplane. You can sure as hell bet I know Starship. But Jefferson Starship? It just kind of flew past my radar. I was reminded of them recently when our good buddy Matt at Addicted to Vinyl set up a Cage Match between them and Joe Walsh. (Did I mention that Matt totally digs “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now”?) He posted their song “Jane,” which is actually a pretty awesome song, but it represents the group after Mickey Thomas joined and the band went in a heavier rock direction. “Count on Me” is really kind of wussy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s somewhat pretty, but the choruses are kind of awash in muddy vocals. I never would have guessed that it made the Top 10.

Wanna hear a truly awful version of this song? Check out this live performance from 2007. Marty Balin sounds terrible. And check out Paul Kantner at 2:03 – the look on his face says it all. “What am I doing here? Why can’t I kill Marty? I can’t wait until this new boat is paid off.”

7. Feels So Good — Chuck Mangione

I have a lot I want to say about “Feels So Good,” but I’m going to be a dick and hold off, because I want to save it for a Mellow Gold entry. In return, I promise I’ll get it done within the next month, and if I don’t, you can send me all the hate mail you like.

6. Shadow Dancing — Andy Gibb

One day, when I really get back into the swing of writing, I will create a new webpage entitled Oh, How I Hate You, Andy Gibb. I’ve talked about this so many times (I even covered “Shadow Dancing” in a July post), so apologies if you’ve read it before, but if you’re new to this series, here’s my beef: I generally dislike him because I can’t differentiate anything successful he did from a Bee Gees song, which makes sense because most of them were produced and/or written by Barry, and I get angry every time I think about how he took the gifts that Barry gave him and essentially chucked ‘em out the window.

Which makes today’s entry a problem for me. Because I love “Shadow Dancing,” and — I’m sure you’re not surprised here — I love it without a trace of irony. I think it’s a fantastic song. And Andy actually had a hand in writing it as well. It’s the first song to feature a true collaboration between the four Gibb brothers. As I mentioned before, when the song reached #1, Andy became the first solo artist to have his first three singles hit the top spot — the other two being “I Just Want to Be Your Everything” (which I like) and “(Love Is) Thicker Than Water” (which can go straight to hell).

I watched a lot of clips of “Shadow Dancing” to prepare for this post, and didn’t want to repeat the clip I posted in July. I’m still conflicted on which ones you should watch, but I like this one, taken from a “Celebrity Fun Cruise” in 1983. In 1983, Andy Gibb could have damn well been stoned to death for performing a disco song like “Shadow Dancing.” Check out the :25 mark. This guy’s trying to sell this song, and though the crowd initially applauds, at this point, not a single person is into it. They’re just dead. You gotta feel for Andy. I think I understand the drug thing now.

5. If I Can’t Have You — Yvonne Elliman

…and so we continue our week of GIBB DOMINATION! When the Bee Gees began writing the songs for their next album — the album that would become the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack — they began with four dance songs, “If I Can’t Have You” being the first. The group originally intended to give “How Deep is Your Love” to Elliman, who had reached #16 in ‘74 (#14 in ‘76, thanks JB for the correction!) with her cover of the group’s song “Love Me.” Robert Stigwood (SNF svengali) insisted that the Bee Gees record the ballad themselves (good choice, although I bet Elliman would’ve sung the hell out of it too), so the group gave her “If I Can’t Have You” instead. When it topped the charts, it became the fourth #1 from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, the fourth consecutive #1 written by Barry Gibb, and the sixth consecutive #1 for RSO Records. That’s four records shattered, three if you know how to do math correctly. BAM! What did I tell you? Gibb domination, baby! The Bee Gees’ version of this song was initially released as the B-side to “Stayin’ Alive,” and was eventually included on one of their hits compliations. Here ’tis:

Bee Gees — If I Can’t Have You (download)

Although clearly her biggest hit, Elliman was a successful artist in her own right before “If I Can’t Have You.” She was the original Mary Magdalene on the Jesus Christ Superstar record, and went on to perform the role in the film as well as on Broadway. Her version of “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” reached #28 on the charts in 1971. Additionally, she covered “Hello Stranger” by Barbara Lewis, which reached #15 and topped the AC charts, and performed as backing vocalist for Eric Clapton on “I Shot the Sheriff” and “Lay Down Sally.” I think she slept with him too.

I love this clip from Top of the Pops. Try not to smile when she does. She’s beautiful and it’s infectious.

4. You’re the One That I Want — John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John

I’ve been wondering what I could possibly say about this song. I can’t really rip on it, because I saw Grease when I was a kid and loved the whole thing, and thought this song was absolutely perfect for the movie. (I despise the fact that they inserted it into the musical when it was revived in 2007.) And John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John had great chemistry (evidenced in this live clip from a few years ago). So really no complaints about this song. And I just noticed that the lead instrument on this song is the bass; that’s one of the most active bass lines I’ve ever heard, actually. Man, there has to be something I can share with you guys about this song that you haven’t heard before.

Oh man! I found it! You’re not going to be able to sleep tonight after watching this! Ha ha ha!

3. Too Much, Too Little, Too Late — Johnny Mathis & Deniece Williams

So this is pretty much the way it went down: Johnny Mathis had experienced huge success in the music business. His greatest hits compilation, brilliantly titled Johnny’s Greatest Hits, was  supposedly the first greatest hits compilation to be released, like, ever, and stayed on the Billboard charts for 490 weeks (a record he held until Dark Side of the Moon), but he hadn’t had a Top 10 single since 1963. So Mathis decided he’d try to go the R&B route, and to do so, he enlisted Deniece Williams (who is loved by many but hated by my spell-checker) to record a duet with him. Williams had only had one prior hit, but Mathis’ producer knew of her excellent session work as a backing vocalist, as well as her work in Stevie Wonder’s Wonderland band. After the song hit #1, the duo raced to the studio to record an entire album of duets — which didn’t really do that well. The duo did re-team in the ’80s, however, to cover “Love Won’t Let Me Wait” and to record “Without Us,” aka the theme song from Family Ties.

As for the song itself, it’s well-done and nice enough, and Williams has impressive chops, hitting some ridiculous notes that we’d hear again later on “Let’s Hear It For the Boy,” but when placed next to the duet we’re about to cover at #2, it’s a bit less impressive. Sorry, guys.

2. The Closer I Get to You — Roberta Flack with Donny Hathaway (download)

I mean, really. How can you beat the pure, soulful, beautiful voices of these two? We covered Flack’s brilliant “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” a couple of weeks ago, and just like that song, I could listen to this one over and over again for hours. I’m sort of appalled this song didn’t make it to #1, actually.

Hathaway and Flack had a special relationship: they were classmates at Howard University and labelmates as well. They recorded an album of duets in 1972, which most notably featured the song “Where Is the Love,” a #5 hit. Hathaway’s problem with depression separated the duo for the majority of the ’70s, and they didn’t record together again until this single. After this song’s success, the duo headed into the studio for a second album, but never completed it, due to Hathaway’s suicide in January 1979. Flack finished the album on her own, and included the two songs that she had completed with Hathaway.

If you don’t have this song, download it — it’s wonderful. And although he’s not Hathaway, Peabo Bryson does a great job on this version from the Atlantic Records 40th Anniversary celebration in 1988. Also, his name is Peabo, so you really can’t go wrong.

1. With a Little Luck — Wings

Given all the awesome Gibb-ness on this chart, I have to admit I’m somewhat shocked that “With a Little Luck” made it to #1. I don’t think it’s a bad song, I just don’t consider it to be the best of the Wings material, and it has some pretty stiff competition on this Top 10. Still, the song topped the charts for two weeks, and ended RSO Records’ streak of #1 hits, which they had held since Christmas. (”Baby Come Back” was on RSO Records as well.) It probably also caused John Lennon to wonder, yet again, how Macca was so successful with this cheesy stuff — especially since those backing vocals at the end sound kind of Beatle-y. (I know it’s impossible, but I swear I hear Lennon on there.)

“With a Little Luck” was recorded in a 24-track studio that was installed on a yacht in the Virgin Islands, where McCartney had taken the band to record their next album. The band spent a month there, but completed the album back at Abbey Road in London. By the time of the release of London Town, guitarist Jimmy McCulloch and drummer Joe English had left the band. Which leads me to wonder: isn’t it a totally douchebag move to quit your job right after your boss gives you a full month of work on a yacht in the Virgin Islands?

If you have the Wingspan greatest hits album, you’ll notice that the version of “With a Little Luck” is the “DJ Edit.” Be thankful. The full version, clocking at 6 minutes, is almost twice as long as the edit, and really doesn’t bring anything to the table, other than an extended instrumental break featuring lots of synthesizer. It’s relatively unnecessary since the majority of the song is dominated by the synth anyway. Still, I think the song is pretty enough and it does include the phrase “inclement weather,” and I’m generally impressed if someone can fit the word “inclement” into their song without it sounding awkward. Nice job, Paul!

The video’s not that exciting, but hey, I’ve been including YouTube links all over the place, so I might as well throw in one more.

And that brings us to the end of another edition of CHART ATTACK! I had a lot of fun listening to this Top 10 (except for stupid “Imaginary Lover” and maybe “Count on Me”) and hope you enjoyed reading. Don’t forget to wish Jeff a happy birthday, and we’ll see you in a couple of weeks!