Any Major Dude With Half A Heart

The year 1986, forty years ago, has a reputation as one of the worst years in pop music. And if I look at the chart-toppers in the UK charts, about half are songs I’ll be delighted never to hear again. But the tastes of the masses don’t define a year. It was actually a pretty good year.

In 1986, pop music was in a transition. The teen-dream acts and their fans were maturing — Wham! split up, Duran Duran were reduced to a trio, Spandau Ballet were growing up (neither of the latter two were in contention for inclusion here).

But exciting new acts appeared on the scene, led by the Pet Shop Boys. Hip hop was also breaking through commercially, with Run-DMC, Salt-N-Pepa and the Beastie Boys releasing albums that crossed over; and in the UK, the dance revolution started with house hits charting, particularly the superb Love Can’t Turn Around by Farley “Jackmaster” Funk (British readers may recall singer Darryl Pandy’s explosive performance on Top of the Pops).

The album-buying clientele had enough quality on the shelves to be kept entertained. Here we have my favourite 20 albums of 1986. As always, these are the albums of that year I enjoy the most — not the best, not the most influential, not the most notable.

Nobody else in the world will have my exact Top 20, so it is unique. Before we look at what made my 20, let’s have a quick look at what didn’t. Paul Simon’s Graceland, all debates about boycott-busting aside, is in many ways a great album, maybe the best of the year. And with all the South African musicians on it, I should love it — but somehow I don’t. I don’t like Nick Cave much, so Kicking Against The Pricks wasn’t in contention.

I do like a bit of Bon Jovi from time to time, but not a whole album of it, so no Slippery When Wet. For some reason I don’t mind Phil Collins’ solo stuff, but can’t do with Genesis, even though In Too Deep from Invisible Touch is a lovely ballad. I liked a-ha’s debut album, but 1986’s Scoundrel Days just didn’t touch me, other than the superb Manhattan Skyline.

A few albums scratched at the door for inclusion: Cameo’s Word Up!, The Redskins’ Neither Washington Nor Moscow, Freddie McGregor’s All In The Same Boat, and Prince’s Parade. The latter suffers from not being another Prince album; I simply never listen to Parade. One of these actually got bumped at the last minute when I realised that a particular album was released in 1986, not ’87.

Of my Top 20, most albums I owned at the time, so nostalgia might have blinded me to possible deficiencies on some of them. Only four albums here I got into at a later point: Van Morrison’s No Guru, No Method, No Teacher just a couple of years later, and Steve Earle’s Guitar Town much later. I knew most of Peter Gabriel’s So at the time — my friends played it often enough — and I bought two of the singles, Don’t Give Up and In Your Eyes. But I hated Sledgehammer, so never bought the LP. Listening to So later revealed to me its excellence. I still skip Sledgehammer though.

And the David Sanborn & Bob James Double Vision album I bought in 1988, when I first heard the magnificent Maputo. They feature here with a lovely cover of Since I Fell For You, with vocals by Al Jarreau.

I’m not a huge Madonna fan, but True Blue is a masterful pop album. It includes five hit single releases — and if La Isla Bonita was the last of these, then the album did something right. I’ve picked the one ballad from the set, a truly great vocal performance by Madge. It was a hit at around the same time as another ballad with truly great vocals, George Michael’s A Different Corner. The two artists should have done a duet…

On past Albums of the Year mixes I excluded live albums. I couldn’t do that for 1986, when two of my all-time favourite live sets were released: Bruce Springsteen’s Live 1975-1986 box set and Maze’s Live In Los Angeles. The latter might have seemed superfluous, coming just five year’s after the outstanding Live In New Orleans album, but Maze Featuring Frankie Beverley are best enjoyed live.

Walk Like An Egyptian puts The Bangles at risk of being reduced to a novelty act, but that would be an injustice and an act of ignorance. Even that slightly annoying song is very well put together. So is the rest of the Different Light album. The gorgeous If She Knew What She Wants featured in A Life In Vinyl 1986 Vol. 1.

The Pet Shop Boys’ Suburbia featured on A Life In Vinyl 1986 Vol. 2. That was the great “The Full Horror” remix; here we have the album version of my favourite PSB song.

For some people, Janet Jackson’s Control is 1986’s best album. They might be right: it’s one of the few albums of the year that signposted the future. This doesn’t mean that the future turned out great — Janet Jackson pioneered the endless choreographed dance interludes in dance-pop music — but for the moment, Control was a self-assured work of joy.

Some might regard The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead as the best of 1986. I’m not among them, but I would rate it as their best, speaking as somebody who went through and survived an intense period of Smiths fanship. But the album’s genius resides not so much in Morrissey’s lyrics and vocals, but in Johnny Marr’s guitar and — often forgotten — Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce’s rhythm section.

Of course, Morrissey came up with some great lyrics, especially on the rightly much-loved There Is A Light That Never Goes Out and the beautifully morose I Know It’s Over. But then there are the stupidly-punning Vicar In A Tutu, the bile-shooting Frankly Mr Shankly, the unnecessary Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others… Morrissey wasn’t always as hilarious as he thought. Some might add the dyslexic Cemetry Gates as a crime against lyrics, but I like that one. Still, none of those are Girlfriend In A Coma, which would come a year later.

A lesser-know act here is Hipsway, who didn’t reach stardom despite my enthusiastic advocacy. The Scottish band had on solitary UK Top 20 hit, the irresistible The Honeythief (also on A Life In Vinyl 1986 Vol. 1), and four other singles tickled the Top 75. The featured track reached #55. It, and the band, deserved better. But for inadequate promotion and line-up changes, Hipsway might have become big, even without my enthusiastic promotion.

The most obscure artist here though is the excellent soul singer Tashan, and his inconspicuousness in the annals of 1980s soul is a real shame.  His Chasin’ A Dream album (which I might have bought in 1987) was released on Def Jam. While it was very much a soul affair with no rapping or scratching, the air of hip hop is discernible. Disappointingly, it was not a commercially successful album. Tashan went on to release three more albums between 1989 and 2002; none of them made him the star he deserved to be.

I don’t suppose that for many people, a playlist of music from 1986 would open with Janet Jackson’s funkiest number and close with a show tune. But I can listen to the soundtrack of Little Shop Of Horrors at any time. Of course, I love the initially panned film as well — more than the stage show because I actually like the film’s denouement. Because who doesn’t like a happy ending?

And if there was only one album I may keep from 1986? I think it would be the Springsteen live box set (if that’s not allowed, I take the Anita Baker album). So, what are your albums of 1986?

This mix won’t fit on a CD-R but I’ve made covers anyway, and the above text in PDF format. PW in comments.

1. Janet Jackson – Nasty (Control)
2. Pet Shop Boys – Suburbia (Please)
3. The Bangles – Walking Down Your Street (Different Light)
4. Hipsway – Long Black Limousine (Hipsway)
5. Madonna – Live To Tell (True Blue)
6. Anita Baker – Same Ole Love (Rapture)
7. Tashan – Ooh We Baby (Chasin’ A Dream)
8. Maze Featuring Frankie Beverly – Back In Stride (Live in L.A.)
9. Crowded House – Something So Strong (Crowded House)
10. The Housemartins – Flag Day (London 0 Hull 4)
11. The Smiths – I Know Its Over (The Queen Is Dead)
12. Depeche Mode – A Question Of Lust (Black Celebration)
13. Peter Gabriel – In Your Eyes (So)
14. Bruce Springsteen – Bobby Jean (Live 1975-1985)
15. Steve Earle – Down The Road (Guitar Town)
16. Van Morrison – Foreign Window (No Guru, No Method, No Teacher)
17. Luther Vandross – See Me (Give Me A Reason)
18. Freddie Jackson & Melba Moore – A Little Bit More (Just Like The First Time)
19. Bob James & David Sanborn feat. Al Jarreau – Since I Fell For You (Double Vision)
20. Rick Moranis & Ellen Greene – Suddenly, Seymour (Little Shop Of Horrors OST)

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Previous Albums of the Year mixes:
1971 Vol. 1
1971 Vol. 2
1972
1973
1974
1975
1982
1983
1984
1985

More Albums of the Year
More CD-R Mixes

As Neil Young turns 80 on November 12, here’s the first of two volumes of a Songbook of covers.

Young’s songwriting is pretty distinctive, in sound and vision. Even as he traverses folk, rock, country and even experimental terrain, he is always unmistakably Neil Young — his unique vocal delivery that mixes vulnerability and grit, the evocative and sometimes combative lyrics, and the guitar work that can be brittle acoustic strumming or explosive electric solos.

To cover a Young song well requires of the artist to leave the behind idiosyncrasies of Young’s delivery and find their own way with the tune and lyrics.

Marsha Hunt does this well on Southern Man. Young’s original, from 1970s After The Gold Rush, confronts racism with fierce anger. Hunt’s version softens some of Young’s edge but retains, perhaps even intensifies, the moral weight.

On their 1983 live version of Like A Hurricane, Roxy Music retain the fury of the original, but add their arty gloss to it, plus a touch of soul with the remarkable backing vocals by Fonzi Thornton, Michelle Cobbs and Tawatha Agee. It’s even more epic than Young’s great version.

You’d expect Duran Duran to do something similar on their 1995 cover of The Needle And The Damage Done. Instead of trying to give Young’s delicate song more verve, they strip back the sound even more, to good effect.

One of Young’s lesser-known songs, the gorgeous Till The Morning Comes, is given beautiful treatment by Françoise Hardy in 1972. Here is a good case to be made that Young songs, at least the slow ones, are conducive to covers by women. The covers here by acts like Rita Coolidge, Elkie Brooks, Norah Jones, Everything But The Girl, Rumer, or kd lang bear this out.

As does the version of After The Gold Rush by Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris on their 1999 Trio II album. Harris and Ronstadt had covered several Neil Young songs before that.

As ever, the mix is timed to fit on a standard CD-R, includes home-whined covers, and the above text in PDF format. PW in comments.

1. Tedeschi Trucks Band – Alabama (live) (2017)
2. Marsha Hunt – Southern Man (1973)
3. Bettye LaVette – Heart Of Gold (1972)
4. Dan McCafferty – Cinammon Girl (1975)
5. Southern Comfort – Harvest (1972)
6. Elkie Brooks – Only Love Can Break Your Heart (1978)
7. Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris – After The Gold Rush (1999)
8. Roxy Music – Like A Hurricane (live) (1983)
9. Duran Duran – The Needle And The Damage Done (1995)
10. Del Amitri – Don’t Cry No Tears (1992)
11. kd lang – Helpless (2004)
12. Cowboy Junkies – Love In Mind (2022)
13. Johnny Cash – Pocahontas (rel. 2003)
14. Natalie Cole – Old Man (2006)
15. Norah Jones – Don’t Be Denied (2016)
16. Rumer – A Man Needs A Maid (2012)
17. Everything But The Girl – Birds (1993)
18. Françoise Hardy – Till The Morning Comes (1971)
19. Rita Coolidge – I Believe In You (1971)
20. The Byrds – Cowgirl In The Sand (1973)
21. Cassandra Wilson – Harvest Moon (1996)

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Previous Songbooks:
ABBA
Ashford & Simpson
Barry Gibb Vol. 1
Barry Gibb Vol. 2
Bill Withers
Billy Joel
Bob Dylan Volumes 1-5
Brian Wilson
Bruce Springsteen
Burt Bacharach & Hal David Vol. 1
Burt Bacharach & Hal David Vol. 2
Burt Bacharach’s Lesser-Known Songbook
Carole Bayer Sager
Carole King Vol. 1
Carole King Vol. 2
Chuck Berry
Cole Porter Vol. 1
Cole Porter Vol. 2
Elton John & Bernie Taupin
George Harrison
Gordon Lightfoot
Hank Williams
Holland-Dozier-Holland
John Prine
Jimmy Webb Vol. 1
Jimmy Webb Vol. 2
Jimmy Webb Vol. 3
Kris Kristofferson
Lamont Dozier
Laura Nyro
Leonard Cohen
Neil Diamond
Paul McCartney Vol. 1
Paul McCartney Vol. 2
Pete Townshend
Prince
Rod Temperton
Rolling Stones Vol. 1
Rolling Stones Vol. 2
Sly Stone
Steely Dan
Stevie Wonder Vol. 1
Tom Waits
Van Morrison

More Songbooks
More Cover Mixes

A while ago, I stumbled upon one of my mixes of full versions of TV themes. I located the Any Major TV Themes folder and saw that there was a shortlist for at least two unused volumes. Seeing as Volume 4 ran in 2018 (and the first three from 2014–15), we can speak of this collection as a reboot, with a slightly updated title. The previous volumes are all up again.

TV themes sometimes have a bad name, owing to lowest-common-denominator sitcom jingles. But the art of composing and choosing a theme — one that represents a show and hopefully worms itself into your ear so that just thinking of it makes you want to watch the programme — requires a great deal of thought and creativity. Often, TV themes are of superior quality.
Usually, themes are just around a minute long, so these full versions are more long drink than quick shot. It’s good to have a full version of Kelsey Grammer’s Tossed Salads & Scrambled Eggs closing theme from Frasier. His politics may be atrocious, but the show and that song are a delight (even the now-cancelled reboot was not awful).

A number of themes here are from British shows: the two 1980s Top of the Pops themes, by Phil Lynott and Paul Hardcastle (the guy who did Nineteen in 1985), respectively; the fun theme of 1970s cop show Minder, sung by one of its stars; the title song of the superb Unforgotten, which happily is still running after ten years; and the brilliant, eerie theme of the increasingly unwatchable Midsomer Murders.

The Divine Comedy were aptly named to perform the theme of the great sitcom Father Ted; the chamber music of the Fawlty Towers theme is instantly recognisable; and The Stranglers’ instrumental Waltz in Black was a companion to the various cooking shows by the much-missed Keith Floyd. At the TV chef’s funeral, the Stranglers tune was played as his coffin left the church.
One might think that after four volumes of Any Major Theme Music, pretty much every great show would have been covered. Clearly not so (nor does this volume exhaust that particular well). Series like The Wire, Twin Peaks or Curb Your Enthusiasm reside in TV’s halls of fame, as does Succession, which started its run only after the last mix was posted.

As always, the mix is timed to fit on a standard CD-R and includes home-streamed covers, and the above text in a PDF. PW in Comments.

1. Ira Newborn – Theme from Police Squad! (1982)
2. Kelsey Grammer – Tossed Salads & Scrambled Eggs (Frasier) (2001)
3. Luciano Michelini – Frolic (Curb Your Enthusiasm) (2006)
4. Roberta Flack – Together Through The Years (The Hogan Family) (1986)
5. Cyndi Grecco – Making Our Dreams Come True (Laverne & Shirley) (1976)
6. Mike Post – The Rockford Files (1974)
7. Phil Lynott – Yellow Pearl (Top Of The Pops) (1980)
8. Paul Hardcastle – The Wizard (Part 1) (Top Of The Pops) (1986)
9. MFSB – TSOP (Soul Train) (1974)
10. Dan Marocco – Brooklyn Nine-Nine Main Theme (2013)
11. Rodrigo Amarante – Tuyo (Narcos) (2015)
12. Julee Cruise – Falling (Twin Peaks) (1990)
13. The Stranglers – Waltz In Black (Floyd On Cooking) (1985)
14. Jim Parker – Theme of Midsomer Murders (1997)
15. The Blind Boys Of Alabama – Way Down In The Hole (The Wire, S01) (2001)
16. Caught A Ghost – Can’t Let Go (Bosch) (2013)
17. Nicholas Britell – Succession (Main Title Theme) (2020)
18. Oh Wonder – All We Do (Unforgotten, UK) (2015)
19. The Divine Comedy – Songs Of Love (Father Ted) (1995)
20. They Might Be Giants – Boss Of Me (Malcolm In The Middle) (2000)
21. Von Bondies – C’mon C’mon (Rescue Me) (2003)
22. Jim Jamison – I’ll Be Ready (Baywatch Theme) (1990)
23. Dennis Waterman – I Could Be So Good For You (Minder) (1979)
24. Dominic Hauser – Theme from Fawlty Towers (1975)

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More Mix CD-Rs

In 1975 I was still too young to buy albums, so — unlike the Albums of 1985 I posted earlier this year — this set of 20 favourite albums from that year was accumulated post-factum. The first of these I bought was Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here, still with the black wrap cover, around 1979 or 1980.

That album is an obvious choice — it is the best record of the year, after all — as is Bruce Springsteen’s Born To Run, and perhaps also Earth, Wind & Fire’s Gratitude, Bob Dylan’s Blood On The Tracks, Steely Dan’s Katy Lied, or Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled album, their first with Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks.

Some inclusions are less expected (Linda Lewis, Allen Toussaint, Michael Franks), but this is a collection of favourites, not a “Best of” ranking. That means some “obvious choices” didn’t make the cut: some because I don’t really know them (Patti Smith’s Horses), or I know but don’t like them as highly as others (Queen’s A Night At The Opera, Led Zep’s Physical Graffiti, Joni Mitchell’s The Hissing Of Summer Lawns, Jefferson Starship’s Red Octopus, or the two Neil Young albums).

Others landed up in 21st spot: Bowie’s Young Americans, Curtis Mayfield’s There’s No Place Like America Today, Roberta Flack’s Feel Like Makin’ Love, Emmylou Harris’s Pieces Of The Sky, The Isley Brothers’ The Heat Is On, and Rufus Featuring Chaka Khan. Then there was ABBA’s eponymous set, with a couple of killer tracks but also too much disposable material. Earth, Wind & Fire’s That’s The Way Of The World fell victim to my one-artist-per-list rule.

Speaking of EWF, the featured track is the incredible live version of Reasons, on which Philip Bailey duels with saxophonist Don Myrick, whom Bailey namechecks at the end of the solo. Myrick was shot dead by police in 1993, the officer having “mistaken” the cigarette lighter in his hand for a weapon…

One act here will be obscure to virtually everybody reading this. Josh Sithole was a South African jazz musician who, as a boy in the 1960s, cut his teeth playing kwela on the streets of Cape Town. In the 1970s the guitarist recorded a couple of albums, including the groove-filled Joshua Sithole’s Africa. The featured track is a Crusaders cover; the US jazz-fusion band could well have made use of a player like Sithole.

In the 1980s and ’90s, Sithole was a popular act on the Cape Town club and bar circuit — his version of Rodriguez’s I Wonder had crowds dancing on tables. In 1993, he had a residency in a student bar and was performing there on New Year’s Eve when terrorists attacked the venue, killing four and injuring seven. Sithole survived unharmed. He died in 1999.

The albums of 1975 had some strange covers (check Hall & Oates anticipating the New Romantics!), and I don’t think the photo of Marlena Shaw on her album is flattering, but maybe it goes well with the best of all 1975 LP titles: Who Is This Bitch, Anyway?

And if there was only one album I may keep from 1975? I think it would be Earth, Wind & Fire’s Gratitude. So, what are your albums of 1975?

This mix won’t fit on a CD-R but I’ve made covers anyway, and the above text in PDF format. PW in comments.

1. Parliament – Chocolate City (Chocolate City)
2. Allen Toussaint – What Do You Want The Girl To Do? (Southern Nights)
3. Bill LaBounty – Lie To Me (Promised Love)
4. Daryl Hall & John Oates – Alone Too Long (Daryl Hall & John Oates)
5. Fleetwood Mac – Monday Morning (Fleetwood Mac)
6. Bruce Springsteen – Backstreets (Born To Run)
7. Steely Dan – Any World (That I’m Welcome To) (Katy Lied)
8. Bob Marley & The Wailers – Trenchtown Rock (Live! At The Lyceum)
9. Joshua Sithole – Soul Ship (Joshua Sithole’s Africa)
10. Camille Yarbrough – Take Yo’ Praise (The Iron Pot Cooker)
11. Marlena Shaw – Loving You Was Like A Party (Who Is This Bitch, Anyway?)
12. Earth, Wind & Fire – Reasons (live) (Gratitude)
13. Linda Lewis – This Time I’ll Be Sweeter (Not A Little Girl Anymore)
14. Minnie Riperton – Baby, This Love I Have (Adventures In Paradise)
15. Michael Franks – Eggplant (The Art Of Tea)
16. America – Daisy Jane (Hearts)
17. Eagles – Lyin’ Eyes (One Of These Nights)
18. Bob Dylan – Simple Twist Of Fate (Blood On The Tracks)
19. Willie Nelson – Hands On The Wheel (Red Headed Stranger)
20. Pink Floyd – Shine On You Crazy (Part One) (Wish You Were Here)

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Previous Albums of the Year mixes:
1971 Vol. 1
1971 Vol. 2
1972
1973
1974
1982
1983
1984
1985

More Albums of the Year
More CD-R Mixes

Who of us has not entertained flights of fancy that placed us on stage at a rock concert, possibly holding an air-guitar (or a tennis racket, if you were rich) or using the imaginary mic as a penis extension? The glamorous life!

But between shows there is the tedium of travel and hotels — realities our flights of fancy don’t take us to. Even the drugs, alcohol and sex with groupies probably become routine. I shall make no inquiries about air-shagging groupies…

I was intrigued to hear Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits talking about touring on the BBC radio programme Desert Island Discs. He recalled that when Dire Straits were a smallish outfit, the band and the roadies etc were like a family, travelling together. He enjoyed those times. But when the band became a big, corporate concern, he wouldn’t even get to know the roadies — to his great regret.

So on this collection of songs, singers and bands tell us about life in the music biz, especially the touring. Bob Seger, Jackson Browne and the Carpenters take a documentary approach to the alienation of touring life, while the Grateful Dead are a bit cryptic as they go on about something something playing in a band. Ace see the break-up with band-members in terms we recognise from songs in the domain of failed romance.

For the most part, our acts are trying to tell us about the downside of fame and of living the musician’s life. And, hey, not everybody can have such fun on the road as Led Zeppelin with their “amusing” degradation of groupies, occasionally involving maritime life.

But making a living as a musician certainly beats being the person who has to remove the chickens’ rectums in the KFC factories (for the manufacture of the nuggets, I assume). So even as our heroes are having a bit of a moan, this mix of songs is tremendous fun — in part because it gives us a glimpse into the lives of those whom we have sought to emulate in front of our mirrors, after a long day of removing poultry arseholes.

There are lots of great songs here, some of them old friends to many of us. The most obscure here is also one of the best: The Man In My Shoes by South African band Stingray. They were a short-lived outfit, active only from 1978 to 1981. The drummer on the featured track, Shaun Wright, lost a leg in a shark attack the following year.

Of course there’ll be a second volume — ABBA, CCR, Mott The Hoople, The Who, The Mamas and The Papas et al still want to put to you their case of musicians’ privations — and AC/DC have to offer a poignant postscript.
As always this mix is timed to fit on a standard CD-R and includes home-airguitared covers, and the above text in a PDF. PW in Comments.

1. AC/DC – It’s A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll) (1976)
   The Band Life: On the way to the top, you get ripped-off, underpaid, beat-up and stoned
2. Grand Funk Railroad – We’re An American Band (1973)
   The Band Life: When this band comes to your town, they’ll help you party it down
3. David Bowie – Ziggy Stardust (1972)
   The Band Life: Should we crush the star’s hands?
4. Mott The Hoople – The Saturday Gigs (1974)
   The Band Life: Chelsea groupies are the best company
5. Stingray – The Man In My Shoes (1979)
   The Band Life: Living fast and high never did no good
6. Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band – Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out (live) (1984)
   The Band Life: The founding tale of the E Street Band
7. Little River Band – Home On Monday (1977)
   The Band Life: Long-distance telephone call from the Hilton in Las Vegas
8. Joe Walsh – Life’s Been Good (1978)
   The Band Life: Because modesty is overrated
9. Ace – How Long (1974)
   The Band Life: Betrayal by band mates!
10. Jackson Browne – The Load Out (1977)
    The Band Life: There’s the downtime between gigs
11. The Rolling Stones – Torn And Frayed (1972)
    The Band Life: Just as long as the guitar plays, all’s okay
12. Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band – Turn The Page (Live) (1976)
    The Band Life: Riding 16 hours to the next gig and there’s nothing to do
13. Carpenters – Road One (1972)
    The Band Life: The endless cycle of crowds and all the temporary places can get to you
14. Elton John – Holiday Inn (1971)
    The Band Life: Boredom’s a pastime that one soon acquired
15. The Byrds – So You Want To Be A Rock ‘n’ Roll Star (1967)
    The Band Life: Old folkies rail against manufactured pop bands (guess whom they are spoofing)
16. Grateful Dead – Playing In The Band (1971)
    The Band Life: Who knows what the fuck they’re on, or on about?
17. Jeff Tweedy – The Ballad Of The Opening Band (2013)
    The Band Life: You were gonna be a singer on the hit parade, but…
18. Barenaked Ladies – Hello City (1992)
    The Band Life: The boys don’t like their gig much
19. Drive-By Truckers – Road Cases (2001)
    The Band Life: Instrument cases as a metaphor for the fleeting nature of fame
20. They Might Be Giants – The End Of The Tour (1994)
    The Band Life: The tour ends, popularity ends, relationships end, life ends…

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In the UK, it is almost a received wisdom that 1975 represents the low point of pop music. That may well be true for the UK — as we saw on Any Major Hits 1975 Vol. 1, pop music in the US was in a decent state.

In British pop, 1975 was something of an interregnum. Glam had fizzled out, with only Sweet still regularly bothering the upper reaches of the charts. Instead of T. Rex or Slade, the biggest act in the UK was the Bay City Rollers — whose audience was mainly girls of barely pubescent age. Meanwhile, punk, and all it would inspire, was still a couple of years away. Disco and US soul provided some relief.

Looking at the #1 hits in Britain in 1975, I don’t see much to mark the year out as a disaster. There are the usual naff novelty hits. Whispering Grass by Windsor Davis & Don Estelle in June was pretty bad (and that was preceded by Tammy Wynette’s awful Stand By Your Man), but that was knocked off by 10cc’s superb I’m Not In Love. And for every If by Telly Savalas there was a Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel; for every Barbados by Typically Tropical, there was a Space Oddity by David Bowie. And the year ended with Bohemian Rhapsody at #1, at the time an exciting song. 1975 was no 1979, granted, but there still was plenty to like.

Talking of Bohemian Rhapsody… the next documentary talking-head idiot who’ll claim that Queen “broke all the rules” by releasing a single of over six minutes should be made to wear a dunce cap. Literally just a few months earlier, 10cc had topped the charts with the 6:08-long I’m Not In Love. And six years earlier, an obscure number titled Hey Jude by long-forgotten Liverpool combo The Beatles topped the UK charts, coming in at 7:12. Also: Bohemian Rhapsody did not invent the music video, nor revolutionise it. The Beatles produced a bunch of videos for many of their singles, and they weren’t the first nor the only act to do so. The Bohemian Rhapsody video certainly was influential, but that’s different gravy.

Aaanyway, this mix isn’t necessarily a collection of the year’s best singles — even if it includes the best of the year, ABBA’s SOS — but aims to recall the acceptable vibes of the year. Perhaps that vibe is more European than British.

The Leonard Cohen song was a big hit in Europe but didn’t dent the UK charts (Lenny never did in his prime). The lyrics are classic Cohen: “I asked my father, I said: ‘Father change my name. The one I’m using now, it’s covered up with fear and filth and cowardice and shame’. He said: ‘I locked you in this body, I meant it as a kind of trial. You can use it for a weapon, or to make some woman smile’.”

Likewise, Albert Hammond’s catchy anti-pollution song Down By The River didn’t make the UK charts, but was big in Europe. The song starts out as a camping romance poisoned by the polluted river; Hammond ends the song in ways that might have given me nightmares had I understood English then: “The banks will soon be black and dead, and where the otter raised his head will be a clean white skull instead, down by the river.” The b-side was the original version of the future Willie Nelson & Julio Iglesias hit To All The Girls I Loved Before.

Italian hits like Tornero might have set Europe alight, but wouldn’t cross the channel. I Santo California is still a going concern, and three of the five original members are still with the band.

Hamilton Bohannon’s Disco Stomp was a Top 10 hit in the UK. In West Germany, it became the theme of the monthly Disco music show. Presented by a young comic actor named Ilja Richter, Disco showcased a strange mix of schlager stars and international headline acts, all interspersed with Richter’s cabaret-type sketches that were rarely better than absolutely embarrassing. Still, if you see a 1970s music clip on YouTube, and there are lots of orange TVs on the set, then that’s a clip from Disco.

Disco, the genre, was becoming big in 1975, with a UK act getting in on it. 5000 Volts, whose I’m On Fire lit up the charts, was basically Martin Jay (whom we would later encounter in Tight Fit and Enigma) and Tina Charles, who would soon score a huge solo hit with I Love To Love. When I’m On Fire became a hit, Charles was replaced on the lip-synching Top of the Pops by blonde actress Luan Peters, who also appeared on most single sleeves (she is otherwise best known as the hot Australian over whom Basil Fawlty fawns in Fawlty Towers’ “The Psychiatrist” episode). The subterfuge caused a scandal at the time, with the German label replacing the single sleeves for I’m On Fire to depict Tina Charles with Martin Jay and some other guy.

Even if you have no memory of Jim Gilstrap’s oddly-titled doo-wopping Swing Your Daddy, you’ll have heard his voice before. He was one of the two backing singers whom Stevie Wonder roped in to sing the opening verse of You Are The Sunshine Of My Life. Gilstrap was also one of the voices on the theme for the TV show Good Times.

I mentioned Sweet as a glam act that was still having hits in 1975. Fox On The Run was their fifth #2, out of ten Top 10 hits — and only one of the ten topped the charts.

Fox On The Run had appeared on the 1974 album Desolation Boulevard; the 1975 single was an improved re-recording, produced by the band. The song is about groupies: “I don’t wanna know your name, ’cause you don’t look the same, the way you did before. OK, you think you got a pretty face, but the rest of you is out of place; you looked all right before.” Charming.

In 1975, Braford band Smokie broke through, on the RAK label and produced by Chinn/Chapman. They had a #3 hit in the summer with If You Think You Know How To Love Me, and reached #8 with the superior Don’t Play Your Rock ‘n Roll To Me in the autumn.

On the covers of these singles, their name was rendered as Smokey. As I recall it, the Motown legend Mr Robinson apparently believed that the name Smokey was his trademark alone, possibly concerned that the public might become confused between his high-tenor and Chris Norman”s pebble-gargling voice. Or that people might not properly process the picture of four white Yorkshiremen on a sleeve, and buy the record in the belief that they were getting a Quiet Storm. Faced with the threat of litigation, our four friends changed their name to Smokie.

One of the more unexpected names on this playlist is Al Matthews, whose marvellous hit Fool reached only #16 on the UK charts in early autumn. Matthews’ career as a soul singer didn’t get any more successful, but the former US Marine went on to make his name as an actor, remembered especially for his role as gunnery sergeant Apone in the 1986 film Aliens.

Singing backing vocals on Fool is Maxine Nightingale, who had a hit in late 1975 with the wonderful Right Back Where We Started From. In fact, she owes her discovery as a recording artist to those backing vocals on Fool.

Links for all past mixes in the series are up.  If you dig the feel of 1975, take a look at the collection of posters from West-Germany’s Bravo magazine in 1975 (other years are available, too)

As with other Any Major Hit mixes, the sequencing is roughly chronological. The mix is timed to fit on as standard CD-R and includes home-bumped covers and the above text in a PDF. PW in comments.

1. Pilot – January
2. Kenny – The Bump
3. Frankie Valli – My Eyes Adored You
4. Leonard Cohen – Lover Lover Lover
5. Jim Gilstrap – Swing Your Daddy
6. Fox – Only You Can
7. Sweet – Fox On The Run
8. KC & The Sunshine Band – Get Down Tonight
9. Minnie Riperton – Lovin’ You
10. 10cc – I’m Not In Love
11. The Glitter Band – The Tears I Cried
12. Bay City Rollers – Give A Little Love
13. Hamilton Bohannon – Disco Stomp
14. The Stylistics – I Can’t Give You Anything (But My Love)
15. Albert Hammond – Down By The River
16. Al Matthews – Fool
17. 5000 Volts – I’m On Fire
18. ABBA – S.O.S
19. I Santo California – Tornero
20. Smokey – Don’t Play Your Rock ‘n Roll To Me
21. Jigsaw – Sky High
22. Hello – New York Groove
23. Maxine Nightingale – Right Back Where We Started From

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Any Major Hits from 1944
Any Major Hits from 1947
Any Major Hits from 1961
Any Major Hits from 1970
Any Major Hits from 1971
Any Major Hits from 1972 Vol. 1
Any Major Hits from 1972 Vol. 2
Any Major Hits from 1973 Vol. 1
Any Major Hits from 1973 Vol. 2
Any Major Hits from 1974 Vol. 1
Any Major Hits from 1974 Vol. 2
Any Major Hits from 1975 Vol. 1

A Year in Hits
More CD-R Mixes

Here is a mix suggested by a Canadian friend. And what a great idea it was! So this goes out to the aficionado of worn-out motorbikes.

Sunshine Pop is one of those genres that are defined not so much by what they are than by their vibe. There’s no precise checklist of musical characteristics, and yet you know it when you hear it — a jangling intro, layered vocal harmonies, bright orchestration, and sometimes breaks into classical music (such as the tracks by Eternity’s Children, Peppermint Rainbow). It’s warm music with a gentle smile, even when the lyrics tell stories of falling apart or deliver social commentary.

Emerging in 1966, hitting its peak in 1967-68 and fizzling out by 1969, Sunshine Pop borrowed from the folk boom and from The Beach Boys. Indeed, Pet Sounds in 1966 and earlier Beach Boys hits like California Girls or When I Grow Up provided a template: the often intricate melodies, lush arrangements, cheerful flourishes and soaring harmonies. Bands like The Association took the cue, scoring hits with Along Comes Mary, Cherish, Never My Love, and Windy. Paul Revere & The Raiders, hardly the prototype Sunshine Pop band, created what could be Sunshine Pop’s national anthem with the catchy-as-hell Cinderella Sunshine, inexplicably only a b-side track to 1968’s rather inferior It’s Happening.

There was also a hint of psychedelia, or at least a sanitised version of it. You wouldn’t confuse Sunshine Pop psychedelia with the heavy stuff issued by Iron Butterfly or the 13th Floor Elevators, but psychedelic touches might reveal themselves in the use of harpsichords or reverb-drenched vocals.

Some people might dismiss the Sunshine Pop subgenre as commercial or lightweight, but that would ignore the extraordinary studio craft put into the sound and the complexity of many of its lyrics. The sunshine sometimes threw shadows.

A lot of Sunshine Pop was producer-driven. The Millennium, The Parade or The Yellow Balloon were studio projects built around top-tier LA session musicians — usually the Wrecking Crew — and guided by producers like Curt Boettcher, Gary Usher and Jerry Fuller. Boettcher, who was still in his twenties in the 1960s, in particular deserves mention as one who could turn a simple song into a cathedral of sound — a bit like Brian Wilson or Phil Spector. It’s not by chance that the nix ends with a Boettcher track from 1969. Boettcher died young, at 43, in 1987.

The Mamas and the Papas often get lumped into Sunshine Pop too, and they do feature here. They belonged properly in the folk-pop scene and had a more bohemian style. And yet, their sound is drenched in that same golden haze. And some acts of the Sunshine Pop genre, such as the Looking Glass, certainly copied the Mamas & Papas sound. Similarly, bands like The Turtles and The Left Banke flirted with the genre on tracks that paired orchestral sweetness with a lightly baroque structure. Both also find a place in this collection.

Even The Monkees, though initially a manufactured TV band, may be classed as being part of Sunshine Pop. Their Pleasant Valley Sunday offered a sun-drenched sound to score biting (and slightly naive) lyrics that condemn the consumer society. Many of the boomers who cheered The Monkees’ criticism of Status Symbol Land and its attendant alienation of the young in 1967 grew up and became exactly that which Micky Dolenz and pals confronted.

By the end of the ’60s, the sun began to set. The Summer of Love had turned sour, with the Vietnam War, Nixon’s election, Kent University murders, Altamont and so on. Even Brian Wilson, the godfather of Sunshine Pop, was withdrawing into his own shadows. The optimism of the 1960s was giving way to the realpolitik of the 1970s.

But Sunshine Pop didn’t really go away as the 1970s dawned. It lived on in its cousin, Bubblegum Pop. There was some overlap between the two sub-genres; you may find Tommy Roe, for example, on compilations of both. Some Bubblegum pop bands were also studio creations (such as The Archies), and some Bubblegum hits also featured the backing of the Wrecking Crew (such as the Partridge Family). But the audience had changed. The kids bought Bubblegum Pop, but Sunshine Pop’s audience had moved on — maybe to put down a deposit on that house in Status Symbol Land.

As always, the mix is timed to fit on a standard CD-R and includes home-sunburned covers and the above text in PDF format. PW in comments.

1. The Rascals – A Beautiful Morning (1968)
2. The 5th Dimension – Working On A Groovy Thing (1969)
3. The Mamas & The Papas – Look Through My Window (1967)
4. The Monkees – Pleasant Valley Sunday (1967)
5. Chad & Jeremy – Distant Shores (1966)
6. Paul Revere & The Raiders – Cinderella Sunshine (1968)
7. The Buckinghams – Mercy, Mercy, Mercy (1967)
8. The Looking Glass – Silver And Sunshine (1966)
9. The Grass Roots – Let’s Live For Today (1967)
10. The Parade – Sunshine Girl (1967)
11. The Association – Never My Love (1967)
12. Eternity’s Children – Sunshine Among Us (1968)
13. The Left Banke – She May Call You Up Tonight (1967)
14. The Munx – Our Dream (1968)
15. The Merry-Go-Round – Live (1968)
16. The Vogues – Just What I’ve Been Looking For (1968)
17. Gary Lewis & The Playboys – My Heart’s Symphony (1966)
18. The Sunshine Company – Back On The Street Again (1967)
19. The Cyrkle – Red Rubber Ball (1966)
20. Yellow Balloon – Yellow Balloon (1967)
21. Roger Nichols & The Small Circle Of Friends – Love So Fine (1968)
22. Gary Puckett & The Union Gap – Over You (1968)
23. Peppermint Rainbow – Will You Be Staying After Sunday (1968)
24. The Cowsills – The Rain, The Park And Other Things (1968)
25. American Breed – Don’t Forget About Me (1967)
26. The Turtles – She’d Rather Be With Me (1967)
27. Strawberry Alarm Clock – Incense and Peppermints (1967)
28. Sagittarius – In My Room (1969)
29. Spanky And Our Gang – Sunday Will Never Be The Same (1967)
30. The Summer Winds – Another Time (1969)

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Live Aid: 13 July 1985. Forty years ago on Sunday!

The music wasn’t invariably good, the artists tended to be at least a bit self-serving, we had seats right at the back of Wembley Stadium, and the legacy of the event is questioned by many. And still, for me, attending Live Aid in London is an unforgettable event, not only as a historic concert but also because for one day there was such a concentration of goodwill among people.

The ticket price in London was £25, in Philadelphia $35. In terms of purchasing power, the value of the tickets today (July 2025), would be £96.80 and $105 respectively. But with a Taylor Swift ticket going for $250 — plus fees — today, the price of Live Aid tickets would likely be set to be much more expensive now. In 1985, going to a concert (or sports event) was not yet a luxury item in your budget. Two weeks before Live Aid, I saw Bruce Springsteen at Wembley Stadium. The ticket cost £14.50, now worth £56. That was for a concert by Springsteen at his absolute prime. In 2025, the cheapest ticket to see a 40-years-older Bruce costs you £87.50 (plus the cost of the hoops you may need to jump through for the privilege of supporting The Boss).

Of course, I bought the Live Aid T-shirt and the Live Aid programme (in duplicate, as gifts for my brother, at the HMV store at Piccadilly Circus the week before the concert). The programme cost £5.00, which today has a purchasing power of £19.20 — quite pricey even then.    

People arrive at Wembley Stadium for Live Aid on 15 July 1985 (my photo).

At bargain-priced Live Aid, there were some long stretches of tedium (Bryan Ferry!), as some acts performed songs which nobody needed to hear. And the creations by mad hairstylists immortalised that decade of my youth as one bereft of elegance. Just look at Bono and his hideous mullet! But the dull stretches were enlivened by some high point.

And everybody is right, Queen were indeed, well, majestic. Fred made crazy love to the whole of Wembley stadium. For all the transparent fact-fiddling bullshit in the mostly terrible Queen biopic, the recreation of the Live Aid segment was spot-on (though, of course, the narrative that they had not played on stage together for years was one of those transparent fact-fiddling bullshit inventions). That performance provided my abiding memory of Live Aid: the crowds doing that arms-aloft-clap-clap-arms-aloft-clap-clap thing from the video of Radio Gaga – what a sight that was from where I was sitting, overlooking the masses on the pitch (the photo below shows my view of the crowd) – followed by Mercury leading the 72,000 people in vocal exercises (they had opportunity to practise their vocal cords during Elvis Costello’s fine performance of All You Need Is Love). I was not particularly a Queen fan before Live Aid, nor was I one after. But on that day, I was a Queen fan.

My view at Wembley Stadium. Not great, but imagine the sight during the Radio Gaga handclapping thing! (own photo)

Queen played six songs in their allocated time. Acts like U2, Dire Straits and The Who played just two, with all of them doodling on forever with one of these. Dire Straits’ Sultans Of Swing seemed never-ending, even testing the patience of this fan of the song. The Who went into extra-time with Won’t Get Fooled Again. It is a great song, so no complaints from me, but they could have played three songs in that time.

U2 also played my favourite in their repertoire, Bad. Suddenly, Bono jumped off the stage, grabbed that girl from the crowd, and danced with her. In a documentary made 20 years later, Bono suggested it was a spontaneous act. It may well be that he hadn’t planned to do this at Wembley, but he had pulled that stunt — probably copied from Springsteen’s Dancing In The Dark video, the one with Courtney Cox as the dancee — during every single U2 concert at the time, during the same song. I know, because I had seen three of these gigs in three different countries over successive weeks that summer, preceding Live Aid. So my reaction was one not of surprise but of familiarity; I thought it was planned and marvelled at the audacity of it. I can see why The Edge, Clayton and Mullen might have been annoyed at Bono’s stunt, but they cannot have been surprised by it. The narrative that they just went on improvising, not knowing what was happening or what to do while Bono disappeared from their view, is overstating things.

If Queen had not stolen the show, then Elton John’s set might have taken the honours as the best act in the London leg. Elton did the right thing: play the hits. And then he introduced George Michael, who came out as a bearded man for the first time. He was magnificent as he sang Elton’s Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me. When George got around to recording the song with Elton John almost a decade later, it had lost something of the magic of that July night.

In Philadelphia, Hall & Oates stole the show. In a fairly soul-deprived line-up, the blue-eyed soulmen hooked up with bona fide soul legends, and sang soul music. Temptations alumni Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin had appeared as guest stars on stage with Hall & Oates just a couple of months earlier — it is captured on the fine Live At The Apollo album, recorded in May 1985 and released in September that year — so the act was well-rehearsed.

Otherwise there were the Four Tops and Billy Ocean. Neither they, nor Run-DMC had prominent slots. Patti LaBelle did, but her acute histrionics were entirely distressing, even for a soul fan. Ashford & Simpson appeared with Teddy Pendergrass, the latter appearing on stage for the first time since his accident which had left him paraplegic

Tina Turner was there, but only as a duet partner with Mick Jagger. In any case, her thing by then was rock, rather than soul. Some people regard their duet as a highlight of Live Aid. They certainly had stage presence, chemistry and energy — how could it be otherwise? — but why on earth did they perform the atrocious State Of Shock, Jagger’s 1984 duet with Michael Jackson? And their rendition of It’s Only Rock & Roll is more shouty than nuanced. Visually, that performance was great (even if one had to suffer Jagger awkwardly tearing off his shirt to reveal the kind of pasty chest you might associate with that of a plucked duck). Aurally, however, it was underwhelming, in view of what both singers might have done.

Phil Collins performed in both London and in Philadelphia, thanks to being flown over on a specially laid-on Concorde flight. In the ego-driven 1980s, everybody thought it was a cute stunt. Few questioned whether the thousands of pounds spent on it, courtesy of British Airways, might not have been better awarded to famine relief. Nobody raised ecological concerns about that unnecessary venture either.

I missed Led Zeppelin’s set, sitting on a tube train on my way home. Backed by the freshly-imported Phil Collins, Page and pals regarded their performance as their worst ever — and blamed poor Phil for it. They have not given permission for the footage to be used since. So it doesn’t appear on the official four-disc DVD set. Also missing from it is Duran Duran’s performance of A View To A Kill, thanks to Simon Le Bon famous note-malfunction (see it here).

Carlos Santana also has forbidden release of his Live Aid performance. I have no memory of it (possibly still going home), and that is a shame, because Santana’s appearance was a bit historic. Carlos appeared at both Woodstock and Live Aid, as did Crosby, Stills & Nash and Neil Young.

The Who, of course, beat that: they played at Live Aid, Woodstock and Monterey. So did Stephen Still and Neil Young, at Monterey as part of Buffalo Springfield.

Anyway, back in Philly, the embarrassing moments kept coming. Bob Dylan and the two craggies from the Stones (who looked 60-plus then, but were only in their early forties) contrived to perform an amusing cacophony of Blowing In The Wind, an aural disaster reportedly because they could not hear each other due to some technical problem or other.

Doubtless many acts on the bill were sincere about feeding the world and reminding the starving Ethiopians that they were doing their best to ensure that there will be snow in Africa next Christmastime, regardless of the inopportune consequences of such radical climate change. But among those who took part were also opportunists, wanting in on the cash-in. Some revived their flagging careers on the back of Live Aid. In fact, reportedly all but one act who appeared at Live Aid recorded increased sales after the event, the exception being poor Adam Ant. Live Aid was about corporate profiteering as well as about social engagement. Did much of the artists’ profits from increased post-Live Aid sales go to famine relief? Didn’t think so.

Paradoxically, Live Aid was also a bit of a racially problematic event. No African artists other than Sade — hardly an artist whom one would file under World Music — appeared in either London or Philadelphia; an oddity when the event was supposed to raise awareness about Africa. As noted above, black artists were thin on the bill, especially in London (the same was true of the Band Aid single).

The almost complete absence of black acts in London was shameful, but in Philadelphia it was not entirely for lack of trying. Stevie Wonder declined to participate — he just called to say “No, thank you” — because he did not want to be a token black act, and others followed his example. It probably didn’t help that US promoter Bill Graham was a, let’s say, complicated character.

For all the big names on both stages, none of the biggest solo stars of 1984/85 played a set at Live Aid (and let’s recall that in July 1985, Madonna’s star was still rising). Michael Jackson was missing (despite having co-written We Are The World), as was Prince, as was Bruce Springsteen (who later regretted his decision, and at least he had left his stage up at Wembley for Live Aid’s free use). And Lionel Richie turned up only for the triumphally messy finale.

I don’t quite buy into the idea that Live Aid was in itself malign, though a valid case can be made that it reflected White Saviour Syndrome. Pragmatically, it raised money which saved lives, and built clinics and water purification schemes, even if a lot of the money sent to Africa did not even reach the poor (as tends to be the case with foreign aid). But the idea to raise money to save lives is commendable. It did raise awareness on a range of issues concerning famine, albeit imperfectly, and it promoted some sense of social responsibility. In the callous, self-centred 1980s, Live Aid made charity cool. But it also proposed a notion that charity is not selfless, that for your charity you must get something in return, at the very least the option to congratulate yourself. Consumerist charity, one might call it.

And still, Live Aid, at least initially, did not see itself as a solution but as a contribution to facing a problem. Read that way, its contribution was admirable.

Oh, and Bob Geldof never said: “Give me your fuckin’ money.”

And so, here is a compilation of selected Live Aid highlights and notable moments (I excluded Paul McCartney’s Let It Be, which was later overdubbed to cover technical problems, and The Beach Boys’ brutal assault on their own Wouldn’t It Be Nice). The mix is timed to fit on three standard CD-Rs, and includes this text in an illustrated PDF. PW in comments. Some comments refer to an earlier version of this article.

And if you liked this, please consider donating money to famine/food-crisis relief in Gaza, South Sudan, Sudan, Mali, Yemen or Haiti.

DISC 1:
1. Live Aid – Intro
2. Status Quo – Rockin’ All Over The World
3. The Style Council – Walls Come Tumbling Down
4. Boomtown Rats – I Don’t Like Mondays
5. Ultavox – Vienna
6. Spandau Ballet – Only When You Leave
7. Spandau Ballet – True
8. Elvis Costello – All You Need Is Love
9. Sade – Your Love Is King
10. Phil Collins – Against The Odds
11. Alison Moyet & Paul Young – That’s The Way Love Is
12. Bryan Adams – Summer Of ’69
13. Paul Young – Everytime You Go Away
14. U2 – Sunday Bloody Sunday
15. U2 – Bad
16. Beach Boys – Good Vibrations

DISC 2:
1. Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
2. Queen – Radio Gaga
3. Queen – We Are The Champions
4. Queen – We Will Rock You
5. Simple Minds – Don’t You (Forget About Me)
6. David Bowie – Heroes
7. David Bowie – Modern Love
8. Pretenders – Chain Gang
9. The Who – Won’t Get Fooled Again
10. Elton John – Bennie And The Jets
11. Elton John – Rocket Man
12. George Michael & Elton John – Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me
13. Ashford & Simpson with Teddy Pendergrass – Reach Out And Touch
14. Madonna – Holiday
15. Freddie Mercury & Brian May – Is This The World We Created
16. Live Aid Wembley Finale – Do They Know It’s Christmas?

DISC 3:
1. Stills & Nash – Teach Your Children Well
2. The Cars – Heartbeat City
3. Neil Young – Nothing Is Perfect (In God’s Perfect Plan)
4. Eric Clapton – White Room
5. Eric Clapton – Layla
6. Phil Collins – In The Air Tonight
7. Duran Duran – Save A Prayer
8. Hall & Oates – Maneater
9. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks – Get Ready
10. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks & David Ruffin – Ain’t Too Proud To Beg
11. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks & David Ruffin – My Girl
12. Mick Jagger – Miss You
13. Bob Dylan, Keith Richards & Ron Wood – Blowing In The Wind
14. Live Aid Philadelphia Finale – We Are The World

Wembley – Disc 1: All except tracks 12 & 16. Disc 2: tracks 1-4,6-7, 9-12, 15-16
Philadelphia – Disc 1: tracks 12, 16. Disc 2: tracks 5,8, 13-14. Disc 3: all tracks

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EDIT: Reposted to mark Brian Wilson’s death on June 11, 2025.

Yesterday, on June 20, 2022, Brian Wilson turned 80, just two days after his fellow songwriting genius Paul McCartney, who was the subject of a Songbook last week, turned 80 himself. How were the stars aligned (if you subscribe to that kind of thing) that June 1942 to create two such man within two days of one another?

Wilson and McCartney (and his fellow Beatles) ran a pop music innovations race in the mid-1960s, a serious but friendly competition that spurred each other to greater heights. If a winner must be declared, then it is McCartney, who kept going with some great work while Wilson collapsed under the weight of his own ambitions, and fragile mental health. Crucially, where McCartney had the support, even if often troubled, of his fellow Beatles, who shared in the processes of artistic growth, Wilson had to contend with those, in the band and commercial departments, who still wanted fun fun fun songs about hot cars ‘n’ tanned gals.

The Beach Boys and their striped shirts. Brian Wilson is front right.

When Wilson heard The Beatles’ Rubber Soul album in 1965, he immediately wrote God Only Knows (with Tony Asher), the first track for what would become the Pet Sounds albums. That album, in turn, motivated The Beatles to up their game — from the already astonishing Revolver album — to create Sgt Pepper’s.

Four months before that album was released in June 1967, The Beatles had released Lennon’s Strawberry Fields Forever. Reportedly, when Wilson heard that song, he broke down and cried, saying: “They got there first!” That was quite a concession from the man who by then had already produced the stroke of eternal genius that is Good Vibrations.

Wilson’s attempt to top Sgt Pepper’s — and let’s cut a sad story short — ended in artistic and personal decline following the stressful production of the aborted Smile project, and the disastrous reception of what turned out to be the compromise album, Smiley Smile. Wilson completed that project in 2005 with the release of his Smile album.

In the studio during that productive mid-‘60s period, Wilson didn’t even have the Beach Boys with him. His “band” comprised various members of the Wrecking Crew, the collective of highly professional session musicians. One of them, guitarist Glenn Campbell, actually became a member of The Beach Boys in their touring formation. Carl and Dennis, Jardine and Love would come in to lay down vocal tracks — and, of course, their harmonies were integral to the Beach Boys sound. Mike Love would co-write some songs, though in many cases, the extent of his contributions is a matter of diverging memories.

Actors like De Niro and Pacino have their ways of getting into character; Wilson was a method musician, once even filling his home studio with sand to recreate a beach (as if a feature of beaches is grand pianos just standing there). By then he had already experimented with LSD — a year before that drug reached The Beatles — and other drugs. The riff for California Girls came to him after his acid trip.

The progress in Wilson’s songwriting was as spectacular as that of The Beatles. Between the plagiarised Surfin’ USA in 1963 (for which Chuck Berry rightly got a co-writing credit) and the intricate but appealing Wouldn’t It Be Nice were only three years.

So here we have the Brian Wilson Songbook. Nancy Sinatra’s version of California Girls from a 2003 album, features the backing vocals of Brian Wilson and ex-Beach Boy Jeffrey Foskett. Nancy’s version opens this set, so suitably the first voice we hear is Brian Wilson’s. And Wilson closes this collection with a cover of his own song from 2005’s Smile album, Surf’s Up. The Nancy Sinatra track was co-produced by the legendary Billy Strange, who arranged These Boots Are Made For Walking, as well as Duane Eddy and The Ventures, who in turn had influenced the Beach Boys.

Wilson originally offered Don’t Worry Baby to The Ronettes, and was profoundly inspired by their hit Be My Baby. They didn’t record it because Phil Spector declined it. Instead The Beach Boys recorded in 1964. Wilson once said he thought it was their finest moment. It later was a hit for BJ Thomas. Thirty-odd years after Spector vetoed Don’t Worry Baby, Ronnie Spector finally recorded it, co-produced by Joey Ramone, a fan of both The Ronettes and The Beach Boys. The Ramones themselves feature later in the mix with Surfin’ Safari.

Spector might have rejected Wilson’s composition, but fellow Capitol signing Sharon Marie recorded Wilson and Mike Love’s Thinkin’ ’Bout You Baby, which Wilson also produced and arranged, with another Wilson/Love composition, The Story Of My Life, on the flip-side. It was not a success, nor was the previous year’s Wilson job Run-Around Lover. The Beach Boys rejigged Thinkin’ ’Bout You Baby and recorded it as Darlin’ in 1967.

If we have ever wondered what ABBA might have sounded like if they had been The Beach Boys, Anni-Frid Lyngstad’s Swedish cover of Wouldn’t It Be Nice gives us a hint. She recorded it for her 1975 Swedish language LP Frida Ensam, which was produced by Benny Anderson, another genius of arrangement, with Björn Ulvaeus on guitar. The album also included the original version of ABBA’s Fernando (featured on Any Major Originals: 1970s).

There are some Beach Boys songs that are impossible to cover well, unless you change the whole structure of it. Good Vibrations is a good example of that. The original is one of pop music’s towering achievements; covering it straight is to punch upwards, even if you do it competent, as Todd Rundgren did in 1976. So I’ve opted for the 1975 cover by The Troggs, which deconstructs the original’s entire arrangement, and does to it what William Shatner had done a few years earlier with other hits, though The Troggs do it with greater discipline and restraint than old Cap’n Kirk. I doubt I’ll ever love what The Troggs did with it, but it’s good fun fun fun.

The same applies to I Get Around; the psychedelic version by the Andrew Oldham Orchestra — whose version of the Rolling Stone’s The Last Time (featured on the Copy Borrow Steal mix) gave the Verve’s Bitter-Sweet Symphony its hook — is joyfully mad.

As ever, the mix is timed to fit on a standard CD-R, includes home-good-vibrationed covers, and the above text in PDF format. PW in comments.

1. Nancy Sinatra – California Girls (2003)
2. The Carpenters – Fun, Fun, Fun (1973)
3. Anni-Frid Lyngstad – Skulle de’ va’ skönt (Wouldn’t It Be Nice, 1975)
4. Johnny Rivers – Help Me Rhonda (1975)
5. Ronnie Spector – Don’t Worry Baby (1999)
6. Bruce Springsteen – When I Grow Up To Be A Man (live, 1985)
7. Dave Alvin – Surfer Girl (2006)
8. Rumer – The Warmth Of The Sun (2015)
9. Linda Ronstadt – In My Room (1996)
10. Andrew Oldham Orchestra – I Get Around (1965)
11. The Troggs – Good Vibrations (1975)
12. Bobby Vee – Here Today (1966)
13. P.P. Arnold – God Only Knows (1968)
14. Carmen McRae – Don’t Talk (1967)
15. Sharon Marie – Thinkin’ ‘Bout You Baby (1964)
16. Jan & Dean – Surf City (1963)
17. The Surfaris – Be True To Your School (1964)
18. Nick DeCaro – Caroline, No (1969)
19. Nazareth – Wild Honey (1976)
20. David Garland – I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times (1993)
21. Kirsty MacColl – You Still Believe In Me (1981)
22. Wall Of Voodoo – Do It Again (1987)
23. The Rubinoos – Heroes And Villains (2002)
24. The Smithereens – Girl Don’t Tell Me (1995)
25. Ramones – Surfin’ Safari (1993)
26. Frank Black – Hang On To Your Ego (1993)
27. Brian Wilson – Surf’s Up (2005)

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Previous Songbooks:
ABBA
Ashford & Simpson
Barry Gibb Vol. 1
Barry Gibb Vol. 2
Bill Withers
Billy Joel
Bob Dylan Volumes 1-5
Brian Wilson
Bruce Springsteen
Burt Bacharach & Hal David Vol. 1
Burt Bacharach & Hal David Vol. 2
Burt Bacharach’s Lesser-Known Songbook
Carole Bayer Sager
Carole King Vol. 1
Carole King Vol. 2
Chuck Berry
Cole Porter Vol. 1
Cole Porter Vol. 2
Elton John & Bernie Taupin
George Harrison
Gordon Lightfoot
Hank Williams
Holland-Dozier-Holland
John Prine
Jimmy Webb Vol. 1
Jimmy Webb Vol. 2
Jimmy Webb Vol. 3
Kris Kristofferson
Lamont Dozier
Laura Nyro
Leonard Cohen
Neil Diamond
Paul McCartney Vol. 1
Paul McCartney Vol. 2
Pete Townshend
Prince
Rod Temperton
Rolling Stones Vol. 1
Rolling Stones Vol. 2
Sly Stone
Steely Dan
Stevie Wonder Vol. 1
Tom Waits

More Songbooks
More Cover Mixes

For Easter, here’s a mix of random songs featuring the word “heaven” in the title. It’s a fairly eclectic bunch of tracks, so standard Any Major fare — and thus great fun, I hope.

In song, ”heaven” can mean all kinds of things: from Christian salvation to sweaty sex. And metaphor, Oh, don’t forget metaphor! All of those feature here, including a mini-sermon, US preacher-style (with the accent!), by the wonderful Paul Heaton of The Housemartins on their cover of Stevie Wonder’s Heaven Help Us All.

The showstopper here might be Dolly Parton giving Led Zep’s Stairway To Heaven the bluegrass treatment. It is marvellous.

The addendum Vol. 1 tips you off that I have more of the same on the subject of Heaven. Let me know whether you would like that.

With that, I wish you a great and, if you are so inclined, holy Easter weekend.

As always, CD-R length and home-saved covers. PW in comments.

1. The Skyliners – Pennies From Heaven (1959)
2. Dexys Midnight Runners – Jackie Wilson Said (I’m In Heaven) (1982)
3. The Cure – Just Like Heaven (1987)
4. The Presidents – The Sweetest Thing This Side Of Heaven (1971)
5. The Elgins – Heaven Must Have Sent You (1966)
6. John Prine – He Was in Heaven Before He Died (1975)
7. Wilco – Airline To Heaven (2005)
8. Steve Earle & Allison Moorer – Heaven Or Hell (2011)
9. Talking Heads – Heaven (1979)
10. James Taylor – Anywhere Like Heaven (1970)
11. Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway – Only Heaven Can Wait (For Love) (1979)
12. Maxine Nightingale – If I Ever Lose This Heaven (1973)
13. Pacific Express – Heaven (I’ve Found In You) (1976)
14. Pieces – Heaven Must Have Made You (1979)
15. The Stylistics – You’ll Never Get To Heaven (If You Break My Heart) (1972)
16. Peggy Lipton – Wear Your Love Like Heaven (1968)
17. Sister Rosetta Tharpe – Beams Of Heaven (1956)
18. Carl Smith – Air Mail To Heaven (1963)
19. Dolly Parton – Stairway To Heaven (2002)
20. Meat Loaf – Heaven Can Wait (1977)
21. The Housemartins – Heaven Help Us All (1986)

GET IT!

MORE CD-R MIXES