A recent thread (can’t remember if it was the cheese one or the unfashionable artists one) got me thinking about Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and how they had this glorious disco second coming in the 70s (see also: Bee Gees). Poking around in their back catalogue on Spotify, I came across their 1969 concept album, The Genuine Imitation Life Gazette, a wildly ambitious and personal (and stupendously uncommercial, I should think) take on US life and politics of the time.
It wouldn’t be true to say that they’d gone psychedelic, more that their careers were on the skids, they were chafing under the restrictions of their own history, and they’d taken advantage of the new creative and artistic freedoms that the psychedelic era made possible. The music itself is more in the neighbourhood of MacArthur Park and other Jimmy Webb epics, with a bit of Van Dyke Parks thrown in – and of course the occasional sitar or wah-wah pedal. Have a listen to the title track (complete with Hey Jude quotes) and you’ll see what I mean.
This got me wondering if any other pop stalwarts from the early 60s had taken a similar route. Turns out they had. In 1968 Del Shannon gave us The Further Adventures of Charles Westover – try ‘Silver Birch’. Bobby Darin had already been through rock ‘n’ roller, Broadway crooner and folkie before he brought out Born Walden Robert Cassotto in 1968. Bobby Vee’s Gates, Grilles and Railings came out in 1969; a lot of it is probably more Association-style sunshine pop than actual psychedelia, but try The Passing of a Friend. Even Brian Hyland tried to bury the memory of that bikini with Stay and Love Me All Summer (1969) – try ‘Rainy April Morning’. Before he went country(ish) Rick Nelson had a go in 1967 with Another Side of Rick Nelson, stretching out to rather disastrous effect, as in ‘Marshmallow Skies’, co-written by him and James Burton, of all people.
A lot of people of course took the Rowan and Martin route and just donned frilly shirts, headbands and bells and carried on what they were doing before – I’m looking at you, Eric Burdon and Sammy Davis Jr…but I think (having entertained myself for an hour developing this theory when I should have been working) that there’s something there, even if it’s a load of blind alleys. What think you, people of a certain age? Anybody I’ve missed?
mikethep says
Oh, go on then.
https://youtu.be/5mrieAxUhbg
Junior Wells says
Ok the title and theme is pretty silly but the music sounds alright to me.
mikethep says
No worse than a lot of other stuff from the period, I’ll give you that.
H.P. Saucecraft says
I am familiar with these works, and indeed others. Rick Nelson made a second album in this vein; Perspective. Mainstream frat-rockers John Fred and his Playboy Band (Permanently Stated), and Paul Revere and the Raiders (Something Happening) both had stabs at hippie credibility with out-of-character albums. Harpers Bizarre had a go at pop-psych concept with “The Secret Life Of …”
Tiggerlion says
You mention The Bee Gees in the context of Disco but, in 1969, they released a ‘concept’ album, too. Called Odessa, it’s a double LP outlining the sinking of an Ocean Cruiser. The Bee Gees did a lot of travelling at a time when Planes weren’t so straightforward. It is actually rather good.
duco01 says
Oh yes, Odessa is a wonderful album – although I believe it caused a fair bit of intra-group friction.
retropath2 says
The New Christy Minstrels, albeit more as a launch pad? Members included the EODHM Barry McGuire as well as Gene Clark, Kenny Rogers and Kim Carnes. I was sure the AYGTSFHM Scott McKenzie had been too, but he was Mamas and Papas associate. As for the LGTSFHMs, the Flowerpot Men, whodathunk it, it was good old Tony Burrows, of later Edison Lighthouse fame and fortune. (Cue references for him appearing 3 times on one Top of the Pops, all in different groups.)
Black Type says
Not sure about ‘reinvention’ as such, but The Osmonds came up with a Mormon-themed prog album, The Plan, in 1973.
In a similar vein, Prince brought us his jazz-influenced Jehovah’s Witness/Ancient Egyptian opus The Rainbow Children in 2001.
Tahir W says
Then there were those who became Born Again, like Sam (the Sham), whether as a result of drugs or not, and never played music again.
Mike_H says
Or even worse, the ones who got born again and thenceforth only played turgid religious stuff.
Carl says
Defendant in the dock – Barry Eve Of Destruction McGuire.
Became born again; sang dull, dull songs.
Sniffity says
Sixty years ago this month while touring Australia, Little Richard wigged out after seeing Sputnik fly over, threw all his rings into the Hunter River and declared himself for God…didn’t quite go the way of Baz McGuire, though.
Moose the Mooche says
Definitely not. Only a few years later the Beatles encountered him in Hamburg… his shows would regularly relapse into rock’n’roll hollerfests and his “Big Bible” that he took everywhere was heavily annotated with detailed accounts of his many sexual conquests.
DogFacedBoy says
Eve of Destruction is dull enough on it’s own. Albeit hilarious.
I was always more a fan of Three Wheels On My Wagon which Stewpot used to play on Junior Choice
Moose the Mooche says
Bobby Darin had a go, didn’t he?
and what about Sinatra’s concept album Watertown?
Black Type says
Just prior to Watertown, Frank also did A Man Alone, a half spoken-word, half sung album of pieces by Rod McKuen, The guy was out there, man!
Moose the Mooche says
What fascinates me about Watertown is that it’s not an attempt to “get with it” or to appeal to a younger audience… it’s an established artist taking a proper risk (as was proved when it bombed)
Eyesteel says
It’s a truly great album – I defy anyone to listen to it through without being an emotional mess by the end.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Yep. It’s a real tear-jerker. The Japanese edition added a buzz-kill extra track, which nobody needs. Thanks, Hirohito!
fatima Xberg says
Frank had also done an instrumental album (“Tone Poems Of Colour”), which for the “best singer of our times” truly would’ve been a challenge. (His only contribution I think was that he conducted the orchestra…)
Great album cover, though.
Moose the Mooche says
My dad’s got that – it’s great! And not just the cover.
Eyesteel says
Watertown and Genuine Imitation… both of course largely the work of Bob Gaudio.
H.P. Saucecraft says
*nods*
Good point well made.
Black Celebration says
This might count – there was a period when Pete Townsend went all shoulder paddy and baggy trousered in an early eighties noo romantic style. Audiences proved to be not quite ready for this work.
Moose the Mooche says
What on earth is that man doing with his hands? And why am I watching Andy McCluskey being impersonated by Eccles from the Telegoons?
NigelT says
I actually have a copy of that 4 Seasons record – it isn’t actually all that good, and I speak as a fan! The 70s period was much more like it…Who Loves You, Silver Star…and their work for Mowest was terrific.
I think you’re being a bit unfair on Eric Burdon – he embraced hippiedom and made some great records, but all the groups had to change or die. It’s difficult to appreciate how quickly things moved in the 60s and there was absolutely no such thing as nostalgia…everything had to be new and different, and if you didn’t seem to be ‘progressive’ then you were dead in the water.
Moose the Mooche says
“Even the cops grooved with us…. down in Monterey!”
Great tune, and cheesier than a sackful of Monterey Jack.
Junior Wells says
And then Eric Burdon joined a band moving into black power and despite making a couple of great albums he got the boot as having a whitey in the band was bad for their cred according to some of the band at the time.
Moose the Mooche says
War! with wor Eric
Kaisfatdad says
Eric’s time on the Warpath gave us this magnificent track. Funky and phantasmagorical.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3i0DMbCKnAg
Interesting theory, Mike. And some fine spadework.
Graham Nash, with a little help from his friends, very successfully re-invented himself: from cheery Manchester pop star to uber-cool, Laurel Canyon stadium rocker.
I’m sure there were more than a few jazzers who jumped on the bandwagon that this new freedom offered, the most famous being Carla Bley’s sprawling epic Escalator over the Hill.
Mike_H says
Hmm.
War didn’t want a whitey in the band?
How about Danish-born white-skinned harmonica virtuoso Lee Oskar, who they didn’t seem to mind being in the band until 1985 at least. Possibly later.
Perhaps they just didn’t want Eric in the band any more?
Tahir W says
The way I heard it they didn’t want to play blues like Eric wanted to. Apparently the drummer threw down his sticks during a gig and said “I ain’t gonna play that nigger shit no more” and that ended it. War went on to become much bigger without Eric.
But he’s still one of the greats.
Mike_H says
I don’t blame them at all for dumping Eric at that time. While they produced some good stuff together, some other stuff they recorded with him is just cringingly awful.
The way he hobnailed all over “Paint It Black” and “Nights In White Satin” on “Black Man’s Burdon” are prime examples of why he had to go.
H.P. Saucecraft says
Subtlety was never his forte. Or even his threete.
mikethep says
Might have been a fair bit of twote going on.
mikethep says
Touché. It was a bit of a random swipe, I admit. What I was really getting at was the straighter than straight, whiter than white pop stars of the early 60s who suddenly pushed against the boundaries that had been imposed on them. But Fabian, Frankie Avalon and Bobby Rydell never issued concept albums afaik. Las Vegas was the other way out of course.
Moose the Mooche says
Well, we’ve had a good old jabber about the Monkees’ HEAD over on HP’s Bring and Buy Sale thread…
H.P. Saucecraft says
We can have it here, too. We’ve got our big boy pants on and we can say what we like. I’d like to point out that the sound on the movie – the foley work, the editing – is incredibly detailed (by Jack Nicholson). Listen to what’s going on in that bridge-opening scene – the sounds are as important as the visuals. Oh yeah – the first shot is of red tape. You know – rules, bureaucracy. Micky breaks through the red tape. Just a little detail, but it’s all part of the “being trapped in a box” theme.
Billybob Dylan says
FYI – that bridge is the Gerald Desmond bridge, about 2 miles from where I am now, and that scene was filmed during the actual opening ceremony.
I knew you were dying to know that.
Sewer Robot says
It’s kinda funny to think that some of the biggest Sixties-o-philes du jour – Teenage Fanclub or The Charlatans, say – can sustain 30 year careers ploughing more or less the same groove when they would have been compelled to “change or die” back in the olden times..
(Reply to Nigel T’s Eric Burdon point)
(And now, along comes some smarty pants to point out that, for TFC to slavishly follow every new fashion would be a bit “bandwagonesque”)
mikethep says
I actually meant to say that in the OP, but forgot. It’s interesting that the acts referenced in the OP were still able to pull off these experiments while still remaining creatures of the machine to a very large extent. These days, with access to the technology and the means of distribution, acts can do pretty much what they want.
Colin H says
The Tremeloes caused a bit of an own-goal by denouncing in the music papers their past pop hits and fanbase as a joke on the eve of releasing the progressive-lite ‘Call Me No.1’ in 1968 (or was it 1969?).
Also, the Pretty Things embraced the hippie/underground sound very whole-heartedly. It’s a shame their current act consists of black suits and only R&B (their pre-Defecting Grey era).
H.P. Saucecraft says
Shame about the Trems. You get the impression of some very capable musicians who couldn’t resist recording shit.
mikethep says
They needed to ditch Romford butcher Brian Poole, the big beat Syd Little. But they were a good example of a band who wore flowers in their hair while turning out the same old shite.
Moose the Mooche says
The big beat Syd Little? No, the Large beat Syd Little. That’s why they’re estranged.
NigelT says
Although now reunited! Brian Poole, Chip Hawkes and Dave Munden are now touring as Brian Poole and The Tremeloes…needs must and all that….
H.P. Saucecraft says
“We interrupt this wonderful … act … could the owner of the orange Sierra, that’s the orange Sierra … move it off the steps? The orange Sierra … what’s that? It’s Mandy’s? Anyone seen Mandy? She’s where? Oh. Get her to shift her car when she gets out, would you? Ta, love! Now, back to Barry Pond and … I think they’re taking requests … not that one mate hahaha! Band of Gold? Barry? Take it away! And not just the fuckin’ orange Sierra hahaha!”
Mike_H says
There’s a green Chevy…
Pessoa says
Our Cilla dabbled a bit
H.P. Saucecraft says
This is just so throat-slashingly awful I’ve come out in hives.
Moose the Mooche says
Oh, ah luv yer urrrrrrr!
Kaisfatdad says
That was a very pertinent comment by NigelT:
“It’s difficult to appreciate how quickly things moved in the 60s and there was absolutely no such thing as nostalgia…everything had to be new and different, and if you didn’t seem to be ‘progressive’ then you were dead in the water.”
And if you wanted to show you were progressive, what better way, (as has been seen on this thread), than to record a concept album? In 2017, the very thought of a concept album usually makes me cringe. Not so back in the day. It showed that pop and rock music was more than just a three minute single: it had staying power and intellectual respectability.
Stumbled across this very readable article about some of the odder concept albums.
https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/most-bizarre-concept-albums/
NigelT says
The Moody Blues were a prime example, but really only the name remained after John Lodge and Justin Hayward joined. By sheer luck, Decca wanted a demonstration album for the new Deramic Sound (i.e stereo) and roped in the Moodies to make it. Give them credit, they turned it into Days Of Future Passed and never looked back.
By coincidence, I may be interviewing Chris Farlowe soon – they are reissuing his 1970 concept album From Here To Mama Rosa, along with a BBC compilation….should be interesting!
H.P. Saucecraft says
Chubby Checker! Him! He made a flower-power swingin’ Haight Ashbury album … can’t for the life of me remember what it’s called. Really really really. He did, an’ all. Also Muddy Waters (Electric Mud) and Howlin’ Wolf (?) got themselves freaked out for an album each.
Moose the Mooche says
Chuck Berry made some crackin’, er, post-psychedelic reckids.
Tahir W says
Before or after ding-a-ling?
Moose the Mooche says
That’s not post-psychedelic. It’s post-good.
mikethep says
That’ll be Chequered, then.
Stoned in the Bathroom.
Love Tunnel.
I think the Chubster wins, don’t you?
Moose the Mooche says
Love tunnel? Let’s twist again, luv!
mikethep says
Now ya turn to the left when I say gee
You turn to the right when I say haw
Now gee, ya ya baby
Now haw
Oh baby, oh baby, pretty baby
Do it baby, oh baby, oh baby
(Boogety, boogety, boogety, boogety shoo)
jazzjet says
Zoot Money moved on from his Big Roll Band to form the distinctly more psychedelic Dantallion’s Chariot. Their best known single was ‘Madman Running Through The Fields’, from 1967, with Andy Summers on guitar.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6fyEMSdNU0
Moose the Mooche says
The second mention this week. What the hell is this site?…..the freakin’…. Dantalian’s Chariot Fan Club??
…oh it is!
mikethep says
No, it’s the site for people who preferred it when they were Zoot Money’s Big Roll band (also with Andy Summers).
H.P. Saucecraft says
Dantaliern’s Chariot were awesome. Almost as awesome as Tintern Abbey, who were awesomer.
Mike_H says
“Were You There? Live 66” is a cracking album compiled from old live tapes in 1999, demonstrating just what Zoot Money’s Big Roll Band were up to in that year.
A proper rocking R’n’B revue show.
DogFacedBoy says
Love those two Bobby Darin albums – he’s a funky monkey
Wayfarer says
Fleetwood Mac did a pretty good job of reinventing themselves…