Sometimes I expect a little too much
That 1999 tour wasn't too well advertised to be honest, and I wasn't "on the net" then. Fortunately, I was spending a weekend with my cousin Terry and his family at Fenny Bridges, Devon, and was reading a newspaper that he takes that I don't. There in the Entertainments section was the magical name - Dennis Locorriere.
There were a splattering of new songs too to enjoy. "Shine Son" being one of them. Self-penned, obviously dedicated to Jesse-James, his own son, this was the pick of the new material. A lovely, simple song which hits you in the heart - it's that sincere. It's a strong favourite with the fans and requests for it are always made at his performances.
If I see you tomorrow on some street in town
This was the record which, back in 1962, was frowned upon and condemned by the Church of England. It was, honestly. It was almost banned by the Beeb and other radio stations. It was a massive country and western hit in the States and crossed the Atlantic far from being assured of repeating it's phenomenal success here.
Now then, I've read the lyrics and I can't quite see how the religious community at the time thought the song was glorifying or encouraging extra-marital sex! There's no hint that the guy (or the girl he meets) were married. Deceit and two-timing most definitely, but that's been going on for as long as there've been human beings!
Leroy Van Dyke had a minor success earlier with a quirky little thing called "The Auctioneer" but in the first few weeks of 1962, "Walk On By" was to prove his only major chart success here in the U.K. A simple, sing-a-long country song, it was to reach a high top 10 spot while 3 massive hits - Cliff (The Young Ones), Elvis (Can't Help Falling In Love) and The Shadows (Wonderful Land) - were occupying the number 1 spot.
If I could make a wish,
A "Hammond/Hazelwood" song, "The Air That I Breathe" has always been at the very top of my list of favourites from the moment it entered the charts in February of that year. Some songs grow on you, but others - like this - immediately hit home. I was convinced it was a no.1 hit song, but it actually only reached no.2 - denied by Terry Jacks’ version of "Seasons In The Sun" and "Waterloo" by Abba among others such as Paper Lace’s " Billy Don’t Be A Hero" (but we won’t dwell on that!).
This great chart success for the Hollies once again endorses the view that Allan Clarke was one of the leading vocalists of his time, and although he has tragically had to retire from the group to look after his ailing wife, he will for ever be known as the voice of one of the most talented acts in pop history.
This is a superb, classic pop record.
Don't speak of my heart, it hurts too much, hurts to touch,
Of course, "Baker Street" will always be the song most associated with Gerry Rafferty. However, he has a list of albums accredited to him which proves that he is far from a one-hit wonder.
The greatest tribute I can pay is to say that when it’s finished I want to play it all over again - and enjoy the way that it builds to a great pinnacle of perfection only achieved by very few songs. I’ve a feeling that "Don’t Speak Of My Heart" will achieve an even higher placing when I review the list sometime in the future.
The classic pop song had no greater ambassador throughout the 1970s than Gerry Rafferty.
Ironically the greatest charge to his work was when he was battling the music business - the innate fire and passion of the Scotsman pouring forth on the cool, manipulative machinations of the record industry in London; it was a classic 'city to city' confrontation, a fact which he readily acknowledged in the title of his most successful album.
But if Gerry Rafferty was often his own worst enemy then the beneficiaries were a growing army of fans who were to push international sales of City to City above 5.5 million.
The miraculous low-budget solo album Can I Have My Money Back? (another provocative title) fulfilled the contract with Trans-Atlantic and set in progress a long, fruitful relationship with producer Hugh Murphy.
It was during the second phase of his career that Gerry Rafferty was to gain his first taste of commercial success after forming Stealers Wheel with Joe Egan, whom he'd first met on the Glasgow pop scene when he was 17. The band should also have featured fife folk luminary Rab Noakes with Gerry and Roger Brown in a British answer to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, but Noakes pulled out, to be followed by a series of personnel changes. True to form, Stuck in the Middle With You, which was a stateside #1 and a song which Paul Simon at the time remarked was his favourite pop song, was conceived as a tongue-in-cheek lampoon on a farcical management pre-signing party for record execs.
Refusing to tour the States and generally "play the industry game", he left the band and returned to Scotland as the collapse of their management company eventually brought the curtain down - some would say prematurely, some would say for the best - on Stealers Wheel's chequered four-year run.
Unfettered by management or musician problems, Gerry Rafferty was now to embark on the most consistently productive period of his career. He had left London disillusioned and licking his wounds, but back in the bosom of his family he was soon ready to demo five or six songs in Edinburgh and set off in search of the recording deal that was to lead him to United Artists.
"I knew I'd written a good bunch of songs so I called Hugh Murphy and we recorded at Chipping Norton. I remember thinking I'd be pleased if City to City sold 50,000 copies" he recalls. It sold five and a half million, delivered arguably the best pop song of the year in Baker Street and certainly the most memorable sax intro of all time, although Raphael Ravenscroft's line had actually been written and performed by Rafferty on the original demo of the song."
The shadow of melancholy now seemed to rise like a weight from Gerry Rafferty's shoulders. Baker Street was an instant smash and he went on tour with the core of top session team that had made City to City - men like Tommy Eyres, Gary Taylor, Hiugh Burns, Jerry Donahue, and Henry Spinetti.
The album was slow to move but by the time they reached Belgium they learnt that it had finally gone top ten in America. Still Gerry refused to tour the States but conceded to make a single appearance on the David Frost Show - which catapulted City to City straight to the top spot. The album's success was duly reinforced by sales of the next single Right Down the Line, which was another Transatlantic hit.
Inevitably this album was to be the turning point. Financially secure on the one hand and the "production line" pressure to turn out hits on the other, Gerry Rafferty was feeling creatively spent by the time he sat down to produce Snakes and Ladders. Having lost the desire to manufacture chart hits he went to George Martin's studio in Montserrat and delivered one of his best socio-political polemics in The Garden of England (on the CD version of this compilation), as well as Look at the Moon (on the vinyl version) and a beautifully remixed Bring It All Home.
But if The Garden of England best summed up Gerry Rafferty's Snakes and Ladders mood, a song called The Right Moment fulfilled that position on the subsequent Sleepwalking album - a song considered by the artist to be among the best he'd ever written.
Finding himself at the crossroads and looking to replace the treadmill with a new dimension in his life he built a recording studio at his Kent farm and by the time Sleepwalking was released by EMI in 1983, following their take-over of UA, he and his family were off on the road - living for a year in Italy, then driving across America. "I enjoyed travelling outside the confines of the music business. But eventually my puritanical streak emerged once again so I settled down, set up a home studio and started to write and record.
You Emil, my trusted friend,
There isn’t a football crowd anywhere that hasn’t sung this song - well, a customised version of the lyrics anyway! But that most definitely isn’t the reason this lovely old Brel/McKuen song has achieved such a lofty position in my list.
The failure seemed to galvanise me into ensuring the song would not fade into obscurity, and I always featured it in any list of favourites of mine over the years. I loved the unusual lyrics as well as the catchy, easily remembered melody. It was absolutely no surprise to me when a few years later an American artist, Terry Jacks, recorded the song and had a massive hit with it. You can’t keep a good song down! The only sadness for me is that I felt (and still do) that the Fortunes’ version was the superior one and they didn’t have the hit.
We met as soul mates on Parris Island
Billy Joel is a fantastic singer and an even better contemporary composer/song-writer. The 20th century has produced very few better.
Joel manages, with the very personal nature of the words, to transport the listener to that very sad, war-torn country of Vietnam. It manages, where many other "war" songs fail, to convey the desperation, sadness and futility of conflict, together with the personal, fearful experiences of the individual soldier.
I have chosen a live version, performed by Billy on his USSR Tour back in the 80’s - before the fall of communism. That somehow adds to the whole atmosphere of the performance. I am deeply impressed by this song.
Parting in your hair, it's hardly ever there
What is it about this song? A medium-sized hit when it was released in 1971, it has always held a great fascination for me. In a music world often dominated at that time by love songs in the "Moon/June" mode (nothing wrong with those style of songs), this gentle, pretty little song came along. It was so different both in its musical construction and its lyric content from other hit songs of that era.
White Plains are greatly undervalued - they were influential in many ways back in the late 60’s and early 70’s and this was by far their best song. A brilliant reminder of a time when pop music was evolving rapidly from the simple four-man guitar/drums format so beloved by the 60's generation.
In the beginning there was The Flower Pot Men - on some discs, and publicity circulars billed them as Flowerpot; the time was 1967 and youth culture the world over was celebrating 'The Summer Of Love'. But what, do I hear you ask, has that to do with White Plains? Well if you're sitting comfortably, then I'll begin...
Remember when the music
From his debut with "W.O.L.D." as a morning DJ, through "Cat’s In The Cradle" - a lovely father/son prophesy to "Circle" (a song he penned which took the New Seekers to no.4 in the charts in the early 70‘s) Harry has enthralled millions of his fans with slice-of-life vignettes, mixing comedy with tragedy, bitterness with pretty tunes.
Unfortunately, Harry Chapin - a man who had such a caring nature and who was world famous for his many charity and benefit appearances - would not live to see the fulfilment of his life’s guiding theme, as he was tragically killed in a car crash on July 16th 1981.
"Remember When The Music" was an album released in the year preceding his death. It marked a subtle change in his style which may have pointed the way he was intending his career to go, or it could have been an attempt to be more commercial, as the album certainly contained songs which could be described as specifically written to sell to the masses rather than just fans of his stories. In the past Harry had never compromised his talents for commercial reasons!
I can't touch the clouds for you,
It makes me very emotional every time I hear this superb song. Dennis wrings, quite brilliantly, every bit of emotion from these outstanding Shel Silverstein lyrics. There is a remarkable moment in the last verse of the song when Dennis cries, "Sorry I can't be the one who stays with you". Those few words seem to totally encapsulate what dozens of other "lost love" type songs have tried to describe over the years. Incredible.
Thanks Dennis for giving me so much pleasure over the years by singing such great songs as "I Can't Touch The Sun".
Allons, viens encore, cherie,
Sometimes I push too hard
Trying to see what you will be, I lose sight of who you are
You're still a young man with the world in your hands
To mould any way you choose
Your dream and mine are one of a kind
We both want the best for you.
I just wanna see you shine, son
As bright as you can
You're an exceptional boy, you'll be a helluva man
Whatever you decide to do, just give it your best
And that'll be fine
I just wanna see you shine, son
Wanna see my son shine.
I've watched you crawl, stumble and fall
I've watched you live and learn
To give and to take and how a heart breaks
And how our lives twist and turn
You don't have to be the reflection of me
You don't have to fill my shoes
But if you need a hand you know your old man
Will always be here for you.
I just wanna see you shine, son
As bright as you can
You're an exceptional boy, you'll be a helluva man
Whatever you decide to do, just give it your best
And that'll be fine
I just wanna see you shine, son
Wanna see my son shine.
Yes, I just wanna see you shine, son
Wanna see my son shine.
After the 1985 farewell tour with Dr Hook, Dennis deserted us British fans! No critisism, Dennis - you deserved your break after giving us 13+ years of regular visits, so off he went to do other things, and all we fans had were our memories and our albums.
Then in 1999, Dennis decided to cross the pond again and re-awaken our interest in the bearded one by undertaking an extensive tour.
The man was back with us, and he was appearing in Weston-super-Mare (just down the road) the following week. Immediate phone calls to the venue reserved a seat and just a few days later I was renewing an old acquaintance. Dennis performed all the old favourites, and his voice was not just as good as, but better than, ever.
Since that happy newspaper discovery in an easy chair in Terry's living room in '99, I've had the great pleasure of seeing Dennis in concert several times and regularly keep in touch with his website to find out when he's next in the country. Go on - make the effort and join us fans when he's on tour later this year. Dennis is a rare talent and gives a sensational stage performance (2 and threequarter hours on the last visit to the Brook in Southampton). You won't regret it.
Top of Page
Pardon me, if I don't say hello
I belong to another, it wouldn't look so good
To know someone I'm not supposed to know
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
In a dimly lit corner, in a place outside of town
Tonight we'll try to say goodbye again
But I know it's not over, I'll call tomorrow night
I can't let you go, so why pretend?
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
I love you, but we're strangers when we meet
There seemed more press coverage in the UK about his name and whether he was some long lost relative of a famous painter (or Mary Poppins actor, perhaps!).
I really don't have any special story or reason why it is one of my top 10 favourites other than it brings back very happy memories of a very happy time of my life, when life seemed to consist of record buying and forming lasting friendships.
Top of Page
I think I'd pass.
Can't think of anything I need -
No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound,
nothing to eat, no books to read.
Making love with you
has left me peaceful, warm, and tired.
What more could I ask?
There's nothing left to be desired.
Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak.
So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep.
Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you.
All I need is the air that I breathe, yes, to love you.
All I need is the air that I breathe.
Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak.
So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep.
Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you.
All I need is the air that I breathe, yes, to love you.
All I need is the air that I breathe.
1974 saw the release of what must surely be the crowning achievement in the history of one of England’s very best groups.
As so often in my list of favourites, the main quality of the song is the excellent tune plus descriptive, meaningful lyrics. This has a lovely melody and the lyrics certainly are meaningful!
Top of Page
I'm writing the book each and every day.
Take a look at my face, I still need, I still bleed,
I've been running on empty since you went away.
The spirit world looks down on us, sad that we're apart,
So please don't speak of my heart.
Whenever we talk she says hang on, just hang on,
Meanwhile I'm drowning in the pouring rain.
And each time we meet there's a sad farewell, sad farewell
She tells me someday I'm gonna love again.
The way that she walked out on me still tears me apart,
So please don't speak of my heart.
Every day's an endless maze of dreams that fade and die,
No one believed we were saying goodbye.
And every night I think of you I'm still left wondering why,
I can't believe that we're saying goodbye.
And when I wake up in the morning and wonder where I'm going to,
It all came without a warning, what's a man supposed to do?
Don't let your heart break down, don't let your heart break down.
Don't speak of my heart, it hurts too much, hurts to touch,
I'm writing the book each and every day.
Take a look at my face, I still need, I still bleed,
I've been running on empty since you went away.
The spirit world looks down on us, sad that we're apart,
Don't wanna talk about it, don't make me think about it,
So please don't speak of my heart.
"Don’t Speak Of My Heart" is a fabulous composition. It has just about everything that a song should have. Great tune, descriptive lyrics and an orchestral accompaniment to die for! When you think it has reached perfection, it gets even better. Its 6 minutes, crafted perfectly by Gerry and his brother Jim, which produces something nigh on perfect.
Gerry Rafferty arrived in London in 1969 having replaced Tam Harvey alongside Billy Connolly in The Humblebums. For a while their different musical backgrounds provided a fertile counterpoint and yielded two collectors albums but when, in Gerry's words "Billy's jokes were getting longer and longer, the songs shorter and shorter", it was time to go their separate ways.
"The party was held in a fashionable restaurant in London. We all sat at a huge long table, like one of those scenes from the Last Supper. A few days later Joe Egan and I wrote this humorous little ditty about everyone getting out of it, never thinking it would go to number one in America", Rafferty recalls, "But in some ways it was our downfall because it put a lot of pressure on us."
Both he and Murphy knew they had an outstanding track but felt it too esoteric to foist on a record company and indeed United artist pre-empted its release with the album's title track before a groundswell from among the ranks at UA demanded its inevitable single status.
Gerry now decided to leave home base in Scotland once again and return to the south-east of England. Through 1979 he was writing and recording Night Owl in a period of frenzied output. His creative juices turning out songs like the title track and the unforgettable Get It Right Next Time, which both chalked up bigger successes the other side of the Atlantic where his FM/AOR formula was perfectly suited to American audio ears. With very little promotional back up, Night Owl reached a sales aggregate of 2.5 million units.
Working once again with co-producer Hugh Murphy, the resulting North and South album showed the song writer to be back to his hungriest and most creative. The autobiographical title again dwelling on the dichotomy between the years living in and around London and his genuine need to stay in touch with his Celtic roots.
Top of Page
We've known each other since we were nine or ten.
Together we climbed hills and trees,
Learned of love and ABC's,
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.
You Emil, it's hard to die,
When all the bird's are singing in the sky.
Now that the spring is in the air,
Pretty girls are everywhere,
Think of me and I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
You Papa, please pray for me,
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong,
Too much wine and too much song,
I wonder how I got along.
You Papa, it's hard to die,
When all the bird's are singing in the sky.
Now that the spring is in the air,
Little children everywhere,
Think of me and I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
You Françoise, my trusted wife,
Without you I'd have had a lonely life.
You cheated lots of times but then,
I forgave you in the end,
Though your lover was my friend.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun,
But the hills we used to climb were just seasons out of time.
Back in the latter part of the 60’s, the very talented British group - The Fortunes - were releasing some great pop records and I was a big fan. They released great singles time after time and when "Seasons In The Sun" made it into the shops I was convinced there was a big hit on the cards. Unfortunately, the great British record-buying public disagreed whole-heartedly with me, and this was to be one of the group’s chart failures.
The song is written and sung from the point of view of a guy who murdered his best friend who was having an affair with his wife. While waiting for his execution, he was reflecting on Emil, the friend he killed, his father, Françoise, the wife, and Michelle, his daughter. Different, yes? I guarantee that football supporters have no idea that the song they sing was originally entitled "Le Moribond" (translated as "The Dying Man") when penned by Monsieur Brel.
Top of Page
We left as inmates from an asylum
And we were sharp, as sharp as knives
And we were so gung ho to lay down our lives
We came in spastic like tameless horses
We left in plastic, as numbered corpses
And we learned fast to travel light
Our arms were heavy, but our bellies were tight
We had no home front, we had no soft soap
They sent us Playboy, they gave us Bob Hope
We dug in deep and shot on sight
And prayed to Jesus Christ with all our might
We had no cameras to shoot the landscape
We passed the hash pipe and played our Doors tapes
And it was dark, so dark at night
And we held on to each other like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together
Remember Charlie, remember Baker
They left their childhood on every acre
And who was wrong? And who was right?
It didn't matter in the thick of the fight
We held the day in the palm of our hands
They ruled the night and the night
Seemed to last as long as six weeks On Parris Island
we held the coastline they held the highlands
And they were sharp as sharp as knives
They heard the hum of our motors
They counted the rotors
And waited for us to arrive
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together
Those of us who actually were born before the Vietnam War, and were old enough to understand and take in it’s significance at the time, must surely appreciate the power and poignancy of the lyrics of this tremendous song.
Top of Page
Wash your face
Shabby in your dress, always look a mess
Don't you care?
Mummy's there to see you always look your best
Change your dirty vest
When you grow to be a king
Never do a thing
Four and twenty blackbirds sing along
Royal gifts they all will bring
When you are a king
Everywhere you go, people bowing low
Carriages to take you anywhere
Feet won't ever touch a thing
When you are a king
Tore your shirt again, fighting in the rain
With whats-his-name
Shoe-black on your face, you're really a disgrace
Mummy smiles and all the while
Because she loves you
She will worry so
And if you're good you know
That when you grow to be a king
Never do a thing
Four and twenty blackbirds sing along
Royal gifts they all will bring
When you are a king
Everywhere you go, people bowing low
Carriages to take you anywhere
Feet won't ever touch a thing
When you are a king
When you are a king
Never do a thing
Four and twenty blackbirds sing along
Royal gifts they all will bring
When you are a king.
Everywhere you go, people bowing low
Carriages to take you anywhere
Feet won't ever touch a thing
When you are a king
I think this is a love song, but one sung by a father to his young son. There’s a timelessness about "When You Are A King" - the sheer pride and the joy the simple lyrics portray must be instantly recognisable to everyone who love their own kids.
As the sun shone during mid-'67, teenagers everywhere began the next phase of 'rebelling against the establishment'; for both males and females the sartorial elegance of smart, stylish clothes made way for kaftans and beads; much longer hair became fashionable and the use of hallucinatory-inducing drugs was rather more commonplace than previously, any number of media persons suddenly admitting to experimenting with illicit substances.
Music, as ever, reflected the latest fad, and after four years of British 'beat group' domination, America hit back, with acts who personified this week's trend. They preached that California was currently the place to be, with particular emphasis towards San Francisco; everything revolved around peace, love and the giving of flowers, and with a song written and produced by John Phillips of The Mamas & The Papas - who'd already paved the way with glorious, gentle enchanters like 'California Dreamin'', 'Monday, Monday' and 'Dedicated To The One I Love'. Virginia-born Scott McKenzie forever encapsulated the moment with his worldwide seven-million seller, 'San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Flowers In Your Hair)'. The 'hippies' had arrived. Britain was no less affected than any other nation by this 'psychedelic' onslaught, and two successful native singer/songwriters, John Carter and Ken Lewis, saw no reason not to organise a little tribute of their own. These two gentlemen had been working since the early Sixties with, variously, a group billed as Carter-Lewis & The Southerners and then The Ivy League, this latter a superb vocal harmony trio who'd scored heavily with 'Funny How Love Can Be' and 'Tossing And Turning' in 1965.
Multi talented, they now crafted an opus guaranteed to leave nobody in any doubt as to its intended audience: 'Let's Go To San Francisco', it beckoned. Performed by session musicians, the result was leased to British Decca's newly-inaugurated and fashionable Deram imprint and rush-released at home on 4th August. An instantaneous smash, it raced to No. 4 in the UK and made waves around Europe within weeks, leaving its protagonists with one of life's more pleasant problems: how to supply an act to perform live what they had manufactured in the recording studio. The solution was at hand. John and Ken loaned the Flower Pot Men name to vocalist Tony Burrows, a 1967 vintage member of the Ivy League by happy coincidence, and he recruited Decca singer Billie Davis's then-band and a few other friends to plug the record around clubs and dance-halls the length and breadth of the country. On stage were Jon Lord (Keyboards), Nick Simper (Bass) - later to form heavy rockers Deep Purple; Ged Peck (Guitar), Carlo Little (Drums) and a quartet of larynx-exercisers comprising Burrows, Neil Landon, Pete Nelson and Robin (Scrim) Shaw, Lord having taken over from an ailing Billy Davidson in January 1968.
Further singles followed with 'A Walk In The Sky' (November 1967) - a No. 6 triumph in Holland - and 'Man Without A Woman' (April 1968), but the bubble had seemingly burst and band personnel changes were frequent. By March 1969, when a final Flower Pots single appeared, the appealing 'In A Moment Of Madness', Londoner Pete Nelson - real name Peter Lipscomb - and Robin Shaw were the outfit's main men, adopting piano and bass duties respectively, while both were more than capable of picking on six-string guitars. Also pertinent among the ranks in that he, too, would be a founding father of the new band to come, South African Ricky Wolff. A keen swimmer, the brown-haired and eyed writer was adept on any guitar, plus keyboards, flute and saxophone. When 'Madness' was largely ignored by the masses, and with the label Flower Pot Men having passed its sell-by date, late in 1969 the boys decided it was time for a fresh start. The highly-respected songwriting/production team of Rogers, Greenaway and Cook, had already taken over such duties for that last single, and although, on 26th October, the numbers 'You've Got Your Troubles' and 'Today I Killed A Man I Didn't Know' were taped with the intention of issuing them under the Flower Pot Men stickering, no such event occurred.
By now a five-piece with the earlier recruitment of Harrow, Middlesex-born lead guitarist Robin Box and nearby Kenton lad Roger Hills (drums), both of whom had previously worked together backing Peter & Gordon and ex-Manfred Mann leading light, Paul Jones, a pooling of thought resources decided that they would henceforth go out as White Plains, and the two other titles cut that 26th October, Cook and Greenaway's ultra-commercial 'My Baby Loves Lovin'' and Wolff's 'Show Me Your Hand' were pencilled-in to facilitate a Plains debut. It was agreed to postpone release of said Deram single DM 280 until immediately after Christmas, to avoid its possibly getting swamped by the usual seasonal fare, a judgement which proved sound. Following January 9th unveiling, heavy radio play ensured chart arrival four weeks later and a Top Ten placing to boot, while two months on U.S. Deram witnessed identical equivalent 45-85058 begin a lively 15-week crusade on the Hot 100 which peaked at a decidedly lucky No. 13. The happy, danceable 'My Baby Loves Lovin'' claimed converts seemingly everywhere, as country by country White Plains made their presence felt in no uncertain terms, even though in Australia a rival version of 'Lovin'' by The Joe Jeffrey Group matched them place for place on the way up to No. 13 throughout a goodly 18 weeks run.
Our subjects embarked on a hectic personal appearance tour, taking in numerous TV and radio spots beside on-stage demands. September 1970 had their first album gracing dealer issue sheets (SML 1067), and while the directly-appellated twelve-banded White Plains sold well in England, across the Atlantic its ten-track equivalent, 'My Baby Loves Lovin'' (DES 18045), scampered into Billboard's Top 200 album survey and lodged 4 weeks, besting at 166. Our cousins omitted 'To Love You' and 'Young Birds Fly' from the United Kingdom package, but it is the latter we've adopted as a basis for this collection (tracks 1-12 inclusive), albeit with Uncle Sam's overall title now instated which gives prominence to the seven-inch blockbuster which was its focal point. To this is suffixed the A-side of every British and American single pressed during their Deram tenancy. Not quite enjoying absolute chronological issue status, priority has been given to producing a pleasing running order, while the opening White Plains segment is still laid out in the manner of its vinyl ancestor. With five Top 30 notations in this green and pleasant land between 1970 and 1973, White Plains were one of Deram's most enduring acts of the period, and only one change in their line-up occurred during that time, organist Ron Reynolds taking over from Ricky Wolff. A second U.K.-only long-player, 'When You Are A King' (SML 1092), reached the shops in October 1971, and a third was mooted, but although a track listing was prepared, neither title nor catalogue number was allocated and the project was sadly aborted when they left Deram for pastures new in 1974.
In 1971 various members from White Plains under the direction of their producer Roger Cook, formed the group CRUCIBLE. Many songs penned by Ricky Wolff and Robin Shaw were recorded, four of which were released on the EXTREMES soundtrack. There were 3 other artists featured on this soundtrack including, Supertramp, ARC and Mark McCann. Two decades later, with a good proportion of that same personnel intact, White Plains are still packing 'em in on the 60s and 70s revival tours, while their beautifully produced discs of the past are seldom far from any music radio programme controller's thoughts. From the upbeat bounce of 'Lovin'' to the delicate 'When You Are A King' via the sing-along 'Julie Do Ya Love Me', all are here and more, but imagine, without San Francisco, the love movement and those Flower Pots, we just might have never had the opportunity to appreciate one of the finest, genuine quality pop bands of the Seventies. A commercially successful studio group which featured vocalist Tony Burrows whose other session groups included The Ivy League, The Flowerpot Men, The Kestrels, Edison Lighthouse and Brotherhood Of Man. Robin Shaw and Pete Nelson were also in The Flowerpot Men, whilst songwriter Roger Greenaway had previously been the 'David' of David and Jonathan. He co-wrote their debut hit, 'My Baby Loves Lovin'' with Roger Cook ('Jonathan') and was also in The Flowerpot Men. After their second hit, another Greenaway/Cook composition, 'I've Got You On My Mind', Greenaway and Burrows both left to join The Pipkins and Nelson and Shaw brought in other session singers for further studio and live work. This revamped line-up enjoyed a couple more UK hits - 'When You Are A King' and 'Step Into A Dream' - but disbanded in 1974, by which time interest in them had waned.
White Plains' musical format was pure and simple early seventies style harmony pop with orchestral backing, and they did it very well indeed. The "Two Rogers", Cook and Greenaway, went on to greater successes - including Blue Mink among others. However, I am pleased and proud to be able to keep White Plains' memory alive by naming them more than once in my "All-Time Top 50".
Top of Page
Came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire
And as we sang the words, it would set our minds on fire,
For we believed in things, and so we'd sing.
Remember when the music
Brought us all together to stand inside the rain
And as we'd join our hands, we'd meet in the refrain,
For we had dreams to live, we had hopes to give.
Remember when the music
Was the best of what we dreamed of for our children's time
And as we sang we worked, for time was just a line,
It was a gift we saved, a gift the future gave.
Remember when the music
Was a rock that we could cling to so we'd not despair,
And as we sang we knew we'd hear an echo fill the air
We'd be smiling then, we would smile again.
Oh all the times I've listened, and all the times I've heard
All the melodies I'm missing, and all the magic words,
And all those potent voices, and the choices we had then,
How I'd love to find we had that kind of choice again.
Remember when the music
Was a glow on the horizon of every newborn day
And as we sang, the sun came up to chase the dark away,
And life was good, for we knew we could.
Remember when the music
Brought the night across the valley as the day went down
And as we'd hum the melody, we'd be safe inside the sound,
And so we'd sleep, we had dreams to keep.
And I feel that something's coming, and it's not just in the wind.
It's more than just tomorrow, it's more than where we've been,
It offers me a promise, it's telling me "Begin",
I know we're needing something worth believing in.
Remember when the music
Came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire
And as we sang the words, it would set our minds on fire,
For we believed in things, and so we'd sing.
The late, great Harry Chapin has been described as an acquired taste. Well, if that is the case, then I have most definitely acquired a taste for this storyteller extraordinaire. His many self-penned songs are more than just songs - they are novelettes, short stories which obviously are somewhat autobiographical. No-one could possibly make up the situations he sung about so descriptively and eloquently.
Born in Greenwich Village, New York in 1942, a son of a big-band drummer, he was a member of the Chapin Brothers together with younger siblings Tom and Steve, but really concentrated on his greatest talent - song-writing. A solo star from 1971, Harry went on to amass a catalogue of highly memorable compositions which delighted a growing army of fans.
This beautifully descriptive title song is typical Harry Chapin. It recalls an earlier, more gentle time without being over sentimental or too nostalgic. What a great talent was snuffed out in that car wreck back in 1981, but at least we have his unforgettable recordings to play and enjoy in the years to come. We can continue to remember when the music came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire strummed by one Harry Chapin.
Top of Page
I never reached the sun for you.
I've never done the things
that you need done for you.
I've stretched as high as I can reach
I guess I'm not the one for you.
'Cause I can't touch the clouds
or reach the sun for you.
No, I can't touch the clouds
or reach the sun.
I can't look inside your mind
and see the things you're hopin' for.
I can't help you chase
the dreams you're gropin' for.
You say your arms are open wide,
But Lord knows who they're open for.
I can't know your mind
or chase your dreams with you.
I can't chase your dreams
or know your mind.
I hope you find somebody who
can do the things I didn't do.
Find the road I didn't find
and build a better world for you.
I hope you find somebody bold
enough to reach and take ahold
And guide your ever-changin' mind
and free your ever-risin' soul.
But I can't...I can't.
I can't turn back time for you
and make you sweet sixteen again.
I can't turn your barren fields
to green again.
And I can't sit around and talk
about what might have been again.
I can't turn back time
and make you young again.
I can't turn back time
and make you young.
So say goodbye and don't look back -
I've had some happy days with you.
Sorry I can't be the one
who stays with you.
And if they ask about me,
you can say I was the one with you.
Who never touched the clouds
or reached the sun with you.
I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun.
For those of you who have been patient enough to work your way through from no. 50 to here will have realised from the previous 5 entries from Dennis and/or Dr Hook that this man is my favourite pop artist. To elaborate a little more, then if you haven't already done so, why not visit the "Dennis Locorriere" page on this website. Click here, to do so right now!
This song is, as Dennis's performance from 1972 is, timeless. Listening to it gives no indication as to in which decade of the 20th century that it was first recorded. I have numerous favourites among the 150 plus songs Dennis Locorriere has recorded both with Dr Hook and as a solo artist, but this one song always seems to surface on the top. When he performs this live, it's a great joy for me - and to his many loyal fans too, I'm certain.
Top of Page
J'attendais un an après an,
Sous la lampe dans la vieille avenue.
10.05 a.m.
She had things to buy,
I close my eyes,
Yet I don't know why.
I gave her money, said she knew someone,
And she said she won't be long.
Lamplight, keep on burning,
While this heart of mine is yearning,
Lamplight, keep on burning,
Till this love of yours is mine.
I sat alone with my thoughts and laughed,
Then saw your face in an old photograph.
I didn't think that I could live without you,
But what am I to do?
Lamplight, keep on burning,
While this heart of mine is yearning,
Lamplight, keep on burning,
Till this love of yours is mine
Come home again dear,
I have waited year after year,
Under the lamp in the old avenue.
If God is a man that's laughing,
Why should He make us cry?
In 1969 I purchased a very different LP. It was unique - in its’ concept, in its’ packaging and in its’ content. I had been buying Bee Gees records ever since my good friend David Eele had suggested I listen to "Massachusetts" back in September 1967. I loved the "Pitney-esque" high vocals, the strong tunes and variation of sounds emanating from the Brothers Gibb. The LP concerned was "Odessa", and it really was a one-off.
A "double" album with a tactile, velvet-red cloth cover - it was unlike anything else released on the British music-buying public before. It was slightly mysterious......obviously a concept album of some description, the content was influenced to some degree by the Beatles and Beach Boys albums with strange lyrics, unusual sounds, beautiful ballads and pseudo-classical orchestral pieces.
Personally, I prefer Robin Gibb’s lighter, wistful voice to the more robust vocals of brother Barry, but it was a fascinating experience listening to "Odessa" in its entirety. I put the LP on the turntable and was transfixed as well as somewhat puzzled by the strange, disjointed lyrics. However, when song no. 9 burst from the loudspeakers of my record player I was stopped dead in my tracks! I found it difficult to express what I felt about the song. All I knew was that it was very special indeed. Today - 40+ long years later - it is my favourite record of all-time. Robin’s diction is not the best, and I’ll be honest with you, I couldn’t understand some of the lyrics, but that wasn’t important at the time because it was the melody, the sound, the beautiful harmonies - and Robin’s voice - that made it so special.
The story of "Lamplight" plays a key part in the history of the group itself. This song was the cause/reason Robin actually left the Bee Gees in 1969 for several years. "First Of May" - another fabulous track from "Odessa" was chosen as the follow-up to the group’s no.1 hit "I’ve Gotta Get A Message To You". However, Robin’s wish was for "Lamplight" to be the single. To his utter dismay, Barry prevailed and "First Of May" was released and reached no. 6 in the charts. Incredibly, "Lamplight" was chosen as the "B" side rather than held back for future release. This was too much for strained egos, so Robin left and started a solo career. It was very strange that the group’s record label, Polydor, took on Robin and two solo hits, "Saved By The Bell" (July ‘69) and "August, October (Feb. ‘70) followed for the estranged brother.
Meanwhile, Barry and the remaining "Bee Gees" also had more chart success during this period with "Tomorrow Tomorrow" (June ‘69) and Don’t Forget To Remember" (Aug.‘69), but it wasn’t until 1975 and "Jive Talking" that the reconciled brothers had major success again.
So, dear Reader, that is the story behind "Lamplight" - a song which still brings goose-bumps up on me when I listen to Robin’s lovely rendition. It’s a song I never grow tired of listening to and if you’ve got the chance, sit down, take a listen and enjoy the charm and quality of this late-60’s masterpiece. "Odessa" has finally been re-released on CD with the original cloth cover, together with other rarities from the time the album was being made - including two alternative versions of this very song.
"Lamplight" - it’s a fine reminder of great times, musically. Now, have I got the lyrics right? I have scoured the "net" for a definitive one, and listened intently to the three versions available on the re-issued "Odessa", but I am not at all sure that they have been transcribed correctly on many, if not most, of the lyric websites. Words are changed on each version, and as for the opening French, well I almost give up! Following this, is it "Then I may end" or is it "10-05a.m."? As for the final line, well I've heard it so many times that I begin to imagine things are being sung! Oh, Robin, help us out here please! If you can get hold of a copy, listen closely and tell me - what do you think?
| Top of Page |
| 50 to 41 | 40 to 31 | 30 to 21 | 20 to 11 |
| Top of Page |