Showing posts with label Sesame Street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sesame Street. Show all posts

Saturday, December 28, 2013

“Now & Then,” by Carpenters


Now And Then was released in May of 1973 and is considered by many fans to be the duo's last album with the “classic” Carpenters sound. I’m inclined to agree. It featured two of their biggest hits, “Sing,” (#3, 1973) and the Carpenter-penned song about the early-1970’s “oldies” resurgence, “Yesterday Once More,” (#2, 1973), which became their biggest selling single, worldwide. While a bestseller at the time (and beyond the mysterious, trifold album artwork – is it a photograph? is it a painting? why aren’t they smiling – they were always smiling…? why is Karen’s face obscured? And their actual house loomed in the background, showing the upstairs bedroom window where Karen would collapse less than 10 years later, never to be resuscitated…), of their early albums, Now And Then tends to be their most overlooked and underappreciated these days, as it was, among other things, quirky, eclectic, eerie, joyful, eccentric, melancholy, silly, mysterious, and a TON of fun. In fact, I consider the album one of the most artsy in their canon (except, perhaps, their obscure and seldom-discussed debut, Offering, later repacked as, Ticket To Ride). The concept for Now And Then celebrated the “oldies,” as well as newer songs, having side one of the album consist of “contemporary” songs and side two focus on songs made popular about 10 years earlier.

The “contemporary” side was mostly that, I guess, except it featured a children’s song from television and a classic tune written over 20 years earlier, Hank Williams’ 1952 #1 Country smash, “Jambalaya (On The Bayou).” Hmm. I smell a concept fail. The duo wisely selected for side one Leon Russell’s, “This Masquerade,” which was an outstanding album track and remains a perennial fan favorite that probably should have been the lead-off single, or at least the follow-up to “Sing,” if, for nothing else, credibility purposes. And by the way, I love “Sing.” It’s simple. It’s sweet. “Sing. Sing a song. Make it simple to last your whole life long…” What’s not to love about that? But I’m guessing my fondness has more to do with my being 2 or 3 when it was ubiquitous on the radio that spring and it is a children’s song, after all, and Vh1 used it (affectionately, I think) on a promo a few years ago and it was from Sesame Street, and sigh…oh, what the hell? I just love it. The pretty piano instrumental, “Heather,” adds emotional depth to the proceedings on the first side, but (while absolutely beautiful) for the duo to record a song titled, “I Can’t Make Music,” at that point in their careers…it was just asking for potshots from rock journalists.

The “oldies” side consisted of a medley of the following early 1960’s tunes in this order: “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “The End Of The World,” “Da Do Run-Run,” “Dean Man’s Curve,” Johnny Angel,” “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes,” “Our Day Will Come,” and “One Fine Day.” Interspersed among the pop hits was Carpenters band member, Tony Peluso, playing the role of over-the-top radio DJ, complete with playful, shticky banter and even a “guess the golden oldies” radio contest. Peluso would reprise this role four years later as the DJ communicating with Martians (yes, you read that correctly) at the beginning of the duo’s 1977 top 40 hit, “Calling Occupants (Of Interplanetary Craft).” While certainly serving the concept of side two, in my view, the DJ banter pulls attention away from some remarkable vocals from sister Karen, most notably on “The End Of The World” and “Our Day Will Come,” which, in expanded versions, might have made exceptional singles.

In fact, the oldies/medley side contained some of Karen’s best vocal performances (an opinion the Reader’s Digest Collection vindicated some 25 years later, including the medley in remixed form and without the DJ shtick), with my only suggestion to the oldies side being that the siblings might have done well to include hits from back further, like “The Wayward Wind,” “It’s All In The Game,” “Que Sera, Sera,” “Chances Are,” and “You Send Me,” all which seem to have influenced the duo much more than “Da Do Run-Run” or “Dead Man’s Curve.” Who is with me on this?

Lambasted by critics upon its release, Now And Then was, perhaps understandably, but also unfairly judged as the artistic statement the duo wanted to make at that time. In reality, the album was hurriedly recorded amidst a breakneck schedule of touring and television appearances. Richard Carpenter wrote, “…as the limited time we had to record the album approached, it was clear to me that we had only enough material to complete one side of an LP, and even that was by completing a track we had recorded in 1972, ‘Jambalaya.’ Fortunately, we had an ace up our collective sleeve, resulting in a damn good album which became a worldwide bestseller: Karen and I introduced an oldies medley into our concert show starting in the summer of 1972, and it met with such an enthusiastic response, I decided to feature a version of it on side two of what would become Now And Then.

This album was followed by more breakneck touring for the duo in 1973 and 1974, which gave them precious little time to record the highly-anticipated follow-up, Horizon (1975). In the year that followed and to keep the duo on the radio, their record label mined two more gems from their classic, 1972 album, A Song For You, “Top Of The World” (#1, 1973) and “I Won’t Last A Day Without You,” (#11, 1974) as well as a Christmas-themed single, a jazzy reworking of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town,” late in 1974, but the true follow-up single wasn’t released until December of 1974, the duo’s final #1, a cover of the Marvelettes’ “Please Mr. Postman,” and another retread of the oldies theme, a motif they would continue to pillage (“A Kind Of Hush,” #12/1976, and “Goofus,” #56/1976) through their final album with Karen, Made In America (“BE-echwood 4-5789, #74/1982).

The follow-up album, Horizon, was an intentional departure, demonstrating that the duo was interested in expanding beyond the trend-setting, early 1970s sound that brung ‘em to the dance. Horizon was musically complicated and thematically sophisticated. It was an album for grown-ups, whereas Now And Then seemed to have been recorded with the kiddos in mind. Maybe as a result, it seems to be the last album the siblings recorded where they seemed to be having any fun, which makes it a bittersweet listen today. In fact, while successive albums had moments of levity, the later albums found the duo trying too hard: to have hits, to be hip, to sound “different,” to be taken seriously. But on this album, in this moment in time, the siblings seemed to be in high spirits, and their art reflected this boundless joy - blissfully ignorant of the tragedy that lie ahead. And if for no other reason, Now And Then is noteworthy for that.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

10 Songs About The Power Of Music, Part 1

Every now and again, we like to mix things up at “You Must Hear This Album.” This time, we’re spotlighting 10 notable songs about songs, in two installments: melodic odes to music itself, the very thing that inspires us, excites us, comforts us, and informs us. Music accompanies us through all of our rites of passage: when we get married, when we graduate, when we drive to work, and when we celebrate. It’s the soundtrack of life, and as such, this writer believes music to be essential to life and deserving of a little praise. These featured songs and artists, while not representative, definitive, or even "cool," (to wit, some great songs that didn’t make the cut: “Where It’s At,” by Beck, “Sultans of Swing,” by Dire Straits, “I Dig Rock-andRoll Music, by Peter, Paul, and Mary, and “Still Rock-and-Roll To Me,” by Billy Joel, etc.), are certainly worthy of searching out. Accordingly, the songs are not listed in any particular order, but taken together, represent a harmonious sampling of our collective dependence upon musical expression, one of our greatest treasures.

We’ll begin the first installment with “We Will Rock You,” by Queen. This 1977 double-sided #2 smash hit (“Rock You” was the “b-side” to “We Are The Champions”) was inspired by the band’s desire to involve their fans more in their rock shows, being moved on one occasion by an audience singing “You’ll Never Walk Alone” to the band for an encore. An understandably powerful moment for the lads. Not only is “Rock You” the band’s singular promise to their fans, but the song has transcended the music world, morphing into the standard rallying cry at athletic matches of every variety. And who can resist the catchy, “stomp, stomp, CLAP! stomp, stomp, CLAP!” hook that permeates the record. Instantly recognizable. Instantly classic. Powerful. Punchy. Perfect. Just like the band.

I Love Rock and Roll,” by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts. Joan Jett and The Blackhearts performed the definitive 1982 version of this song, written by Alan Merrill and Jake Hooker, from the British band, “Arrows.” Jett’s iteration spent seven weeks at number one that summer and featured one of the cheesiest/coolest music videos in the early days of the medium (was I the only pre-teen who worried that Jett might be a biter?). Just watching the video made me suspect my parents weren't telling me everything (turns out, they weren't). The song was ubiquitous on the radio that spring, and for me, turned into summer’s invocation; it was so visceral and rebellious and kick-ass; the perfect jolt in the arm this 11 year-old needed as I prepared to matriculate into a new school the next town over. It was my go-to song that summer and into the fall, until this little album titled, Thriller, came out that November...

“Drift Away,” by Judson Spence. While it’s deservedly best-known incarnation was released in 1973 by the late Dobie Gray (#5), who sadly left us in 2011, “Drift Away” has received numerous treatments over the decades, covered by such heavy-hitters as Willie Nelson, Tina Turner, and the Rolling Stones, to name a few, but my all-time favorite version comes from a relatively unknown artist who debuted in the late 1980’s and whose lifespan on the pop charts was short-lived. Judson Spence’s reading of the 1970’s classic demonstrates a gifted interpreter of rock classics; I wish he would have done an entire album of these. And fortunately, Spence’s version is actually available today on iTunes. It’s featured on the soundtrack to the late-1980’s television program, “The Wonder Years.” The album is an inoffensive tribute to music from the late 1960’s / early 1970’s, featuring originals from the likes of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young as well as covers by Julian Lennon and Debbie Gibson, who closes the set with an amiable tune about what it feels like to grow up in the suburbs. Fitting for the program. Fitting for the soundtrack.

Sing,” by Carpenters. Richard Carpenter reportedly regrets recording this Grammy-winning hit song (#3 in 1973), seeing it as trifle, compared to their other recordings (as well as a waste of time, given the precious few years of recording they ended up having during Karen’s lifetime), but nonetheless, this Sesame Street classic stands as a tender tribute to the inspirational power of music, and while targeted at children, it’s message transcends age and time: everybody has a theme song and shouldn’t be afraid to sing it out loud (what’s yours?). What’s mine, you ask? Naturally, it’s “Warm It Up,” the 1992 #13 hit by Kris Kross.

Music,” by Madonna. You may not remember this, but in the late-1990’s, many folks had written off the Queen of Pop. Apparently, with the late-90’s rise of grunge and the short-lived girl singer-songwriters (I’m looking at you, Jewel, Fiona, Joan, and Alanis) the “Material Girl” had apparently outstayed her welcome. With the love-it-or-hate-it Erotica album, in 1992, and the all-over-the-place Bedtime Stories, in 1994 (and the Evita debacle in 1996), the Madonna hit-machine seemed to have blown a gasket. But late in the dingy decade, Stella got her groove back, releasing the dazzling one-two punch of the Ray Of Light album, in 1998, and Music, in 2000. The title song on the latter album is a sassy, dance floor lolly about the transcendence of music. Favorite line referencing our need for music: “It's like ridin' on the wind and it never goes away, touches everything I'm in, got to have it everyday.” Well said, your “Madjesty.”