Posts Tagged ‘Gordon Lightfoot’

  
Friday, November 20th, 2009

CHART ATTACK!: 11/20/76

by Jason Hare

null
So before we get started with today’s chart, I need to call your attention to those purty lil’ Amazon graphics below. They were created by the awesome Brian Ibbott, the man behind my favorite podcast (after the Popdose podcast, of course), Coverville. I figured Brian had taken them from the Amazon website, and since I couldn’t find them over at Amazon, I just took ‘em straight from Brian. I didn’t mean to be a thief, but turns out I am. So all credit for that nifty graphic that nobody clicks on goes to Brian — thanks, Brian! And if you’re not listening to Coverville, you’re missing out on one of the best, most compelling podcasts on the web. Check it out!

Okay, so now that I’ve stopped Brian’s team of blood-thirsty lawyers in their tracks (kidding!), we can take a look at this week’s chart. And I don’t mean to cast a cloud over this Top 10, but I’m not thrilled with most of these songs. Although three of them did hit #1 (one of them is actually the #1 hit of 1977), five of them didn’t make the Top 100 of either 1976 or 1977 at all. And as you’ll see, the songs that actually did hit #1 aren’t that great either. Things were better earlier in 1976 and later in 1977, but this specific week is, in my opinion, a low point. Do you agree? Let me know — and let’s attack November 20, 1976!

10. Do You Feel Like We Do — Peter Frampton null
9. Beth — Kiss null
8. Just to Be Close to You — Commodores null
7. Rock’n Me — Steve Miller null
6. The Rubberband Man — Spinners null
5. Disco Duck (Part 1) — Rick Dees null
4. Muskrat Love — Captain & Tennille null
3. Love So Right — Bee Gees null
2. The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald — Gordon Lightfoot null
1. Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright) — Rod Stewart null

10. Do You Feel Like We Do — Peter Frampton

nullOne day, if I’m lucky enough to have kids as geeky as I am (seems kind of inevitable), I’ll sit them down and tell them about the improbability of this song’s success. Sure, I’ll have to explain terms like “double album,” “record label” and “radio,” but I think it’ll be worth it. I’ll explain to them how Peter Frampton managed to remain on a major record label, A&M, despite the fact that his first three albums (as well as his first eight singles) didn’t even crack the Hot 100 (”what’s the Hot 100, daddy?”) and his fourth album peaked at #32. And that despite these failures, A&M decided that his next release should be a live album — and when he turned in the live album, the head of the record label (Jerry Moss) complained that it was too short (!) and should be a double album (!!). And so Frampton — who had recorded most of the album at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco, went to record more tracks live at SUNY Plattsburgh, better known as the least sexy of all the NY State-owned colleges. (I know. My dad went there.) “Do You Feel Like We Do” was one of the tracks recorded on the college campus. Unedited, it clocks in at 14:15. And children, guess what? “Radio stations,” as they were known back then, actually played the full, unedited version of the song! “Disc jockeys,” who were the people who actually had some control over what songs were played on the radio, used the song as an excuse to go to the bathroom or do other things that I’ll tell you about when you’re older. A&M understood that some stations might not want to play a 14-minute song, though, so they reasonably edited the song…to 7:19. 7:19 was considered reasonable, children!

At this point, my kids will probably be asleep from boredom, and that’ll be a shame, because I haven’t even explained to them why the unedited version of this song became so successful. Two words: TALKBOX SOLO. And here’s what I want to know, people: why do I have to wait SEVEN MINUTES AND 25 SECONDS for the talkbox solo? There should have been one in the beginning, in the middle, and then another one at the end. No, wait: the end one should be a false ending, and then there’d be another one after that one. There. That’s your perfect song. And I know the audience would have agreed, because you can hear how loud they cheer when he starts using the damn thing. You can’t deny the power of the talkbox. The talkbox is so powerful that the audience forgets the fact that anybody using one looks like a total douche.

null

“durrrrrrrrrrr!”

Frampton does a talkbox solo for four full minutes, making “Do You Feel Like We Do” not only our CHART ATTACK! Song of the Week, but perhaps The Greatest Song of All Time, Excluding “What a Fool Believes.”

(more...)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Chart Attack!, Featured, Featured - Frontpage, Music | Comments

Wednesday, May 27th, 2009

Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ’80s, Part 53

by Dave Steed

feeders52

We move into year two of Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ‘80s, with one of the best weeks we’ve had in a while, in my opinion. How about we continue with the letter L, looking at songs that peaked at #41 or lower on the Billboard Hot 100 chart during the ’80s.

Johnny Lee
“Bet Your Heart on Me” — 1981, #54 (download)

Naturally, after I say this is one of the best weeks we’ve had in a while, we start off with this lump of coal. I’m not quite sure I understand how most country music crossed over into the Hot 100 in the early ’80s. Lee had a pretty massive hit in 1980 with “Lookin’ for Love” (#5), so maybe I can see “Bet Your Heart” charting if it was the follow-up, but it wasn’t. There were four other singles between those two that only hit the country chart. So how does this generic country song become the one that mainstream radio pushes? I guess it’s just about knowing the right people or having the right amount of cash.

Larry Lee
“Don’t Talk” — 1982, #81 (download)

There are weeks where I dig this light rock sound from the early ’80s and weeks I don’t. This must be one of those where I do, because I’m groovin’ along to this simple tune, the only solo hit Larry Lee had after leaving the Ozark Mountain Daredevils early in ‘82.

Paul Lekakis
“Boom Boom (Let’s Go Back to My Room)” — 1987, #43 (download)

I’m so happy this missed the top 40 by three spots. “Boom Boom (Let’s Go Back to My Room)” is the type of song Bottom Feeders is all about, so I would have been crushed to not have it here. This is one of two songs in the letter L that I love way more than I should. And I’m going to bet that all of you loved this at one point or another too (this is the place to admit it). If you were between the ages of 15 and 22 in 1987 when this came out you absolutely loved this, because it was probably played at every high-school dance or fraternity party for a year. I can’t imagine how many horny boys and horny girls were awkwardly dry humping each other trying to get some “Boom Boom.” (I was going to add a Paul Lekakis picture to this, but my google search kept turning up pictures of him naked by himself or naked with other men, so I decided to move on).

(more…)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Bottom Feeders, Music | Comments

Friday, February 27th, 2009

CHART ATTACK!: 2/27/71

by Jason Hare

Howdy, everybody! I tend to stick to the ’80s when writing CHART ATTACK!, as they’re the years I remember best. But this week, I decided to pull up something from the early ’70s and see what I could find. I came across a pretty solid chart with some great rock, pop, country and R&B … and Gordon Lightfoot. Enjoy as we take a look back the charts exactly 38 years ago today: February 27, 1971!

10. Me and Bobby McGee — Janis Joplin Amazon iTunes
9. Mr. Bojangles — Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Amazon iTunes
8. Amos Moses — Jerry Reed Amazon iTunes
7. Sweet Mary — Wadsworth Mansion Amazon iTunes
6. I Hear You Knocking — Dave Edmunds Amazon Amazon mp3
5. If You Could Read My Mind — Gordon Lightfoot Amazon iTunes
4. Rose Garden — Lynn Anderson Amazon iTunes
3. Knock Three Times — Dawn Amazon iTunes
2. Mama’s Pearl — The Jackson 5 Amazon iTunes
1. One Bad Apple — The Osmonds Amazon iTunes

10. Me and Bobby McGee — Janis Joplin

The first of four covers on this week’s Top 10, “Me and Bobby McGee” was written by Kris Kristofferson and Fred Foster, and found success by two other artists before Joplin: Roger Miller, whose version reached #12 on the country charts, and Gordon Lightfoot (also on this week’s Attack), who hit #1 on the Canadian country charts. At least five other artists recorded their own versions before Joplin, including Kenny Rogers & The First Edition and Bill Haley & His Comets, but clearly hers is the version most remember best. It was recorded only shortly before her death, and when it topped the charts, it became only the second posthumous #1 on the Hot 100 — the first being Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay.”

So who is Bobby McGee, anyway? According to Kristofferson, the title came from Foster, who knew a secretary named Bobby McKee. Kristofferson just misheard him.

9. Mr. Bojangles — Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

The problem with me not being around in 1971 is that I can’t always be like, “I remember when this song was a hit.” All I can do is occasionally add some personal thoughts, like “Bojangles” is the thing we’d say to each other in college as we tried to hit each other in the nuts. And that really has nothing to do with the song. Except I suppose if we had a teacher showing us how to do it, he’d be Mr. Bojangles. (By the way, this is what happens when you’re Managing Editor at Popdose. Nobody else reads your stuff before you publish it. Otherwise this last paragraph would be long gone.)

But what I can tell you is that contrary to popular belief, “Mr. Bojangles” isn’t about Bill “Bojangles” Robinson. Rather, it’s about an old homeless man that singer and songwriter Jerry Jeff Walker met while in jail in New Orleans. The man told Walker about the various trials and tribulations in his life, and when someone called him “Bojangles,” and hit him in the nuts asked him to do a dance for the other inmates in the cell, he obliged. Walker claims that Mr. Bojangles is “a composite. He’s a little bit of several people I met for only moments of a passing life. He’s all those I met once and will never see again and will never forget.”

None of this explains, of course, how the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band managed to reach #9 — their only top ten hit — with the song, higher than any other performer who’s covered it.

(more…)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Chart Attack!, Music | Comments

Thursday, September 18th, 2008

Spooky Songs: Gordon Lightfoot, “If You Could Read My Mind”

by Matthew Bolin

I don’t think any other song scared me more as a child than “If You Could Read My Mind,” the moody ballad that became Gordon Lightfoot’s first self-sung hit in the United States (peaking at #5 in 1971). And I heard this song a lot: my father was a big folkie, and when I was a kid, this was still a regular staple on many FM radio stations. So, my indoctrination to this song was swift and total during these formative, psyche-building years. With that in mind, imagine hearing the lyrics to the first verse as a kid, especially at night:

If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie, about a ghost from a wishin’ well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong, with chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free, as long as I’m a ghost that you can’t see.

Holy. Crap.

Now, being the analytical young chap that I was (and still am), think about what my mind was trying to process here: The guy singing this song…is a ghost….chained up…..in the bottom of a well….and the well is in the middle of a dark (and likely abandoned) castle or fortress.

Add to that the sparse arrangement and production — the lightly finger-picked guitar, the rhythmic heartbeat of the bass, and the swirling strings, which move increasingly higher as each of the verses progress, ending almost as a ghostly whine that doubles with the stark dissolution of the lyrics — lyrics sung by a man whose voice had enough of a natural trill that if you were young, and thought about it enough, you could convince yourself was coming from the living dead. (more…)

Tags: , ,
Posted in Music | Comments

Friday, February 15th, 2008

Chartburn: 2/15/08

by Jeff Giles

Chartburn Logo


Mainstream Rock: Eric Clapton, “Pretending” (1989)

Will: I’ve always felt like this song was the point where Clapton finally began to escape from the “we need a pop song as the first single” era and entered the “do whatever you want, you’re too old for MTV anyway” era. It’s much more like the classic Clapton sound of the ’70s, and I always enjoy hearing it.

Py Korry: Although I heard Clapton’s music on the radio when I was but a lad, I really didn’t start to actively listen to him until the mid-’80s, when I had some cash to buy albums. Unfortunately, I started with an album that wasn’t all that great — Money and Cigarettes — and wondered what all the hubbub was about.

Clapton’s output in the ’80s was, to me, really unremarkable. And I’m basing that on what was played on the radio and not some buried gem on this or that album. “Pretending” is a good example of Slowhand going through the motions, and if it wasn’t for the horn punches in the song it wouldn’t have had enough ear candy to be a single. But let me bracket all that for a moment and say this: I’d listen to “Pretending” over and over for days if it meant I would never have to listen to “Change the World” or “My Father’s Eyes” again.

Zack: Tell me truthfully: if you didn’t know this was Clapton, wouldn’t you associate the first 20 seconds of “Pretending” with the start of an “action sequence” in a late-night Cinemax movie? (more…)

Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in Chartburn, Music | Comments