Friday, May 8, 2015

1965 in Music (January 15)



The Kinks: "Tired of Waiting for You" (Ray Davies) / "Come On Now" (R. Davies) [Both on UK album Kinda Kinks and US album Kinks-Size.] (January 15, 1965)

A great year for British rock got off to a wonderful start on this date, first of all, with the release of the third classic Kinks single in a row (following 1964’s "You Really Got Me" and "All Day and All of the Night). Although "Tired of Waiting for You" was more reflective and melodically sensitive than the two previous hard-rockers, guitarist Dave Davies laid down another repeating power riff that sparked magic, creating the group’s most accomplished and complex song yet. The record shot to the No. 1 spot in Britain and the No. 6 spot on the U.S. Billboard chart - the highest the group would get in America until 1983! It remains one of the Kinks’ most beloved early singles and completed their "power pop trifecta."


Ray Davies is a man to watch in 1965. Beginning here, and throughout the year, he will experiment with the unusual position he's found himself in and will endeavor to explore to uncover a hidden treasure that will eventually result in something very much resembling genius. What will finally emerge will be unlike any other voice or vision in rock history.

The B-side, "Come on Now", another Davies original, is a more simplistic (and conventional) upbeat number driven by brother Dave’s repeated guitar lick, similar in style to the Beatles’ "I Feel Fine," but not nearly as imaginative. Still, it's fun.


 
 
 

 

 


The Rolling Stones: The Rolling Stones No. 2 (UK: January 15, 1965)


The Stones had triumphed in the UK in 1964. Their first album, two subsequent singles, and an EP had all shot straight to the top of the charts, and the group appeared to be challenging the Beatles themselves for the title of the biggest band in Britain. Like its predecessor, The Rolling Stones No. 2 featured the sullen faces of five potentially threatening lads and no title or graphics other than the Decca logo. The message was plain: these guys were tough and serious, and they weren’t fooling around.

The music inside bespoke no less: these rough ‘n’ dirty blues-based Londoners were on a mission, and they were getting stronger and meaner. There was no question that they were probably determined to take over the world, not just the charts. The inherent danger and blatant sexuality of the Rolling Stones were quite shocking for the time and place (this was Britain, after all), but the group was growing even stronger and tighter in their playing, especially after their first (difficult) tour of America and their pilgrimage to Chess Records in Chicago. In traditional British fashion, their last two hits, "It’s All Over Now" and the pure blues of "Little Red Rooster" were nowhere to be found here. Instead, ravenous English fans were treated to twelve new numbers, the majority of which contained some of the cockiest and dirtiest sounds ever produced on the island.

Although there were only three original compositions here, nobody could accuse the Stones of being unoriginal. Despite all their influences, they simply sounded like nobody else, and this, their second LP would rocket straight to the No. 1 chart position immediately after its release, displacing The Beatles for Sale. And as if to demonstrate the group’s (and their fans’) persistence, it would drop to the lower spot twice before returning triumphantly to the top each time.

As for America, where the Stones were still building a following and gaining momentum, this particular album would not be seen or heard. (Strangely enough, when the group’s albums were released on compact disc in the 1980s, and both the UK and US versions were issued in the new format, this and the first album were not. The Rolling Stones No. 2 is still unavailable on CD, though it’s on Spotify and it can be purchased on download.) Yanks had already heard a few of these songs on 12 X 5 (a US-only album), and most of the rest would arrive the following months on an album entitled The Rolling Stones, Now! If you get a chance, however, you should take the opportunity to listen to the original LP the way the band intended it. It is a mother!

Track listing:



SIDE ONE
 
1. "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love" (Solomon Burke/Bert Berns/Jerry Wexler) [Long version - short version on The Rolling Stones, Now! (US).] - The Stones were not only playing the older black American forms of blues, r&b, and Chuck Berry rock ‘n’ roll, but were heavily into contemporary soul singers. The record opens with a remake of Solomon Burke’s 1964 single, which was designed as a show opener. It’s audacious in every sense of the word, as Jagger takes no hesitation to mimic Burke’s crowd-greeting patter word-for-word, but in his own haughty/naughty stage voice. The Stones sound raw and fuzzy when set against the crisp professionalism of American soul musicians. To what degree these differences are intentional at this point, and how much is simply a failure to copy well we shall probably never know. One thing is for certain - the Stones sound assured. As a matter of fact, they’re assured enough to go on for five full minutes mostly with four repeating chords and Jagger playing with the invisible audience. (This is the only place I know that you can find this version - a shorter, inferior one starts off The Rolling Stones, Now!.)






2. "Down Home Girl" (Jerry Lieber/Arthur Butler) [On The Rolling Stones, Now!.] - Now this was just plain dirty! Jerry Lieber (of the famous Lieber and Stoller songwriting team) helped fashion this comic blues number for New Orleans singer Alvin Robinson the year before. It wasn’t a hit, but someone in the Stones heard it, and the group effortlessly inhabited it, filling all its raunchy feel and innuendo with their own sleazy hybrid. Jagger sounds downright salacious here, and Brian Jones’ slide guitar makes everything sound much nastier than the original horn section he’s copying. Just what was one to make of this kind of confection, anyway? To accuse the Stones of imitating American black musicians seems to miss the point in light of their own original sound. And perhaps more importantly, Jagger’s complete intuitive grasp of the exaggerated humor of songs like this actually move them to another level where interpretation becomes much more complex. But just listen to the mean snap of Keith Richard’s guitar and the heavy, predatory bass of Bill Wyman. There’s no question that for four glorious minutes, that this is the coolest, nastiest band . . . well, in Britain, at least. And for many an alienated youth, that was miracle enough.  







3. "You Can’t Catch Me" (Chuck Berry) [On The Rolling, Now!.] - The Stones had already established themselves as the greatest Chuck Berry cover band in the world, and they reach a kind of apotheosis here, taking Chuck’s cool, strutting 1956 car boast and transforming it into a ponderous sex machine that still rocks. Just a slightly slower tempo lets band open up all kinds of hidden meanings and hidden grooves in what’s already a classic song. These guys are rapidly imposing their will and vision on everything they touch.






 4. "Time Is On My Side" (Norman Meade) [Guitar-intro version. Earlier organ-intro version 1964 US single appears on 12 X 5 (USA).] - Yes, the Stones had already had a Top 10 U.S. hit in ‘64 with their copy of soul singer Irma Thomas’ record, but this re-recorded version is the one that’s definitive. Not only does it have that distinctive, bluesy guitar intro, but the whole group gets deeper into the groove. When Jagger steps out front in the talking section, he’s really got something to strut to. Here’s another reason you need this album. (This version does appear on Big Hits (High Tide and Green Grass) (1966) and Hot Rocks 1964-1971 (1971), however.)




 5. "What a Shame" (Mick Jagger/Keith Richards) [B-side of 1964 US single "Heart of Stone." On The Rolling Stones, Now!] - Americans who had bought "Heart of Stone" would have heard this original Jagger/Richards blues number, but it was new to England, and it fits in well here. It’s not so much that it’s an accomplished composition as it is a vehicle for the band to demonstrate just how damned funky they can sound. Richards provides a skronky guitar figure throughout, Charlie Watts’ cool sense of time is impeccable, and Brian Jones delivers some stinging slide. Wyman’s bass line slithers and Mick blows a mean harp. Cool as shit.




6. "Grown Up Wrong" (Jagger/Richards) [On 12 X 5 (US: 1964).] - Here’s another original that sounds like it was written in the 2 minutes and 5 seconds it takes to play it. And that’s not an insult. If it wasn’t for Brian Jones’ insistent slide guitar and Mick’s harp solo at the end, I’d probably call this "proto-punk." And it may be anyway. It also begins a series of songs that directly address and criticize the group’s female contemporaries. There aren’t many particulars that are worthy of mention here ("you’ve grown up all wrong," "you’ve grown up too fast," "you come on too strong," etc.), but this theme will become so prominent that it deserves notice, I think. It’s loud, insistent, with relentlessly pounding drums and bass, and it’s got a snotty attitude that makes it a good song to end the first side with. (It sounds more impressive here than it did on 12 X 5 for some reason. Context, I suppose.)





SIDE TWO

 
7. "Down the Road Apiece" (Dan Raye) [On The Rolling Stones, Now!.] - Side two opens with what sounds like another Chuck Berry song, and actually Berry did record this 1940 "boogie-woogie" number as a rock ‘n’ roller, which is probably what the Stones used to base their version. While Berry’s version struts, the Stones’ goes for broke. They take it at a faster tempo, with Richards laying down dirty Berry-style licks while Jagger thrills with phrases about "chicken cooked in bacon grease." The group’s commitment to this material is absolute, and their wild, fired-up delivery reinforces their growing reputation as the hardest-rocking band in Britain. The group’s utter love for the gritty, raw feel of the Black American Experience is as powerful as their amazing ability to pull off their own authentic version of it. (Ian Stewart goes wild on the piano, too.)




8. "Under the Boardwalk" (Arthur Resnick/Kenny Young) [On 12 X 5.] - I’ve always found the Stones’ version of this Drifters classic as unconvincing and a little silly as it appears on 12 X 5, but here, where it’s supposed to be, it actually seems to work. It’s a happy, tuneful, carefree idyll the next day after the night’s raw intensity of "Down the Road Apiece, and it demonstrates the band’s growing range. I believe that’s Brian Jones with the pretty acoustic 12-string solo.





9. "I Can’t Be Satisfied" (McKinley Morganfield) - This track alone makes it a criminal affair that this album is not available on CD in this configuration. I don’t know anywhere else you can get this beautiful interpretation of this great Muddy Waters song, and it certainly never appeared on any of the Stones’ ‘60s albums in America. And that’s a damn shame, not only because it’s a great testimony to the group’s mastery (and love) of real Chicago blues, but because it’s just so beautiful and fun. Now, of course, if you play it back-to-back with Muddy’s original, it sounds like a boy’s version of a man’s song. But there’s nothing wrong with that! Mick’s powers of vocal interpretation are growing, as he uses Muddy’s model to create his own sense of sass. And more importantly, the band gets the feel right. Brian Jones’ slide playing is not only accomplished - it’s pure, liberating joy.





10. "Pain in My Heart" (Allen Toussaint) [On The Rolling Stones, Now!] - The Stones return to Soulsville here, and it sounds great. And once again, no, Jagger cannot match the existential intensity of a master like Otis Redding, but he is creating his own persona that’s not only unique but uniquely compelling. And does the band play hard! This is a "heavy" soul that doesn’t drag. In short, it’s the Rolling Stones converting Black American music into their own ferocious form of rock ‘n’ roll. And to hear just how good they are it by this point in their career is nothing short of amazing. Bill Wyman’s bass sound is enormous.



11. "Off the Hook" (Jagger/Richard) [B-side of 1964 UK single "Little Red Rooster."On The Rolling Stones, Now!.] - Here’s one more original, and it works. That doesn’t mean it’s great, but it fits right in, and that’s saying something. Basically, it’s a silly little song with a heavy repeating riff and some Brian Jones stinging slide-work. Jagger gets to strut a little, though with his revenge story of an unanswered phone call. "Under My Thumb" it’s not, but it is fun.



12. "Susie Q" (Dale Hawkins/Stan Lewis/Eleanor Broadwater) [On 12 X 5.] - The album ends with Dale Hawkins’ swamp-boogie classic which the Stones turn into more of a garage-band rave up, with Charlie Watts pounding the drums to make the neighbors call the cops and Keith Richards going absolutely ape-crazy on his distorted Telecaster (I presume). In its own way, "Susie Q" is the band’s way of promising that they’re not going to behave, and that’s enough to make any repressed, rebellious kid stick his fist in the air and celebrate.




Once again, The Rolling Stones No. 2 is a truly great rock ‘n’ roll album, not just for its period, but period. And it’s a shame that it’s not available on CD, because it represents a critical point where the world’s greatest rock band was just beginning to hit its stride. So listen to it whole, if you get the chance. It’s a great start for ‘65 for the Rolling Stones - they may not have realized it yet, but they had one hell of year waiting for them.

 
 
 





The Who: "I Can’t Explain" (Pete Townshend) / "Bald Headed Woman" (Shel Talmy) (UK: January 15, 1965) [Both available on the Deluxe Edition of My Generation(2002)]


 
Wait, who’s the greatest rock group of all time? While the Stones were coming of age, another London band was exploding onto the scene. "I Can’t Explain" was the first single to be released by a band called the Who. (A group called The High Numbers had released "Zoot Suit"/"I’m the Face" in 1964 to no response and changed their name back again.) Pete Townshend. Roger Daltry. John Entwistle. Keith Moon. The loudest, most aggressive, insane, shattering, devastating sound ever heard on the planet. For millions of fans, this remains the definitive rock band.

And of course all the cliches about the group remain - probably because they are all so true. They waged war onstage. They didn’t complement each other like the Beatles did - they cancelled each other out. They were violent. They were anarchistic. They smashed their instruments. They were punks before there were punks. And they were British, right down to their Union Jack shirts.

Pete Townshend was the resident genius, the sensitive, contradictory composer who could make you cry or who’d throw a guitar at you as soon as look at you. Roger Daltry, the pretty-boy lead singer was actually a tough guy, a working class street kid with an attitude. Even if he was the "front man", his band-mates would always show him up. John Entwistle, tall, standing stock still and looking bored, quietly played the greatest bass lines ever heard in rock music history. And the madman - Keith Moon, the center of the storm, creating a cyclone of sound around his drum kit, a manic lunatic that couldn’t keep still, so he’d beat everything in sight. Still today, nobody knows how he played like that - it was impossible. And when these guys hit the stage, it was a four-way battle for control that somehow coalesced into the most ferocious, psychotic, cathartic - and yet somehow heartbreakingly beautiful - sound anybody had ever heard.

"I Can’t Explain" is the perfect first-Who song, a confession of youthful confusion, an admission that there’s no way to say what’s in your heart and on your mind, but a willingness to go ahead and try to do it - as loud as you can - anyway. It was great in January of ‘65, and it was just as great and rang just as true ten years later when I saw them open their concert at the Tarrant County Convention Center with it. Even with Tommy, Who’s Next, and Quadrophenia under their belts, the Who’s ‘60s singles were the heart and soul of the band. This is the first one. Essential doesn’t even begin to say it. I don't care how you get them, but you need them all!

 

 
 
  
 
 

The B-side? "I don't want no bald-headed woman. It make me mean, make me mean!" Then an atomic explosion. They weren't much for subtlety back then.
 
 
 
 
 

More of 1965 coming soon!

- petey

 



 



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