The Supremes - "You Keep Me Hangin' On" (In Memoriam)

Mary Wilson, co-founder and only continuous member of The Supremes from 1959-1977, died earlier this month.  Though I write about it infrequently here, I'm a big fan of Motown (who isn't, really?), and The Supremes were one of the core elements of the Motown sound (honorable mention to session musicians extraordinaire, The Funk Brothers, as well as the incomparable songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland). 

I was going to mark Wilson's passing with my favorite track from The Supremes, "Someday We'll Be Together", but I was surprised to learn that Mary Wilson does not appear on the studio recording.  Instead, I'll choose the defiant "You Keep Me Hangin' On", which checks all the boxes: Mary Wilson (and co-founder Florence Ballard) appear, as do The Funk Brothers, and it's written by Holland-Dozier-Holland. 

Of course, this song has been covered more times than I can count, but any child of the 80s will immediately recall Kim Wilde's version.  I'm also sneaking this in on the last day of Black History Month.

The Supremes - "You Keep Me Hangin' On" 

Kim Wilde - "You Keep Me Hangin' On"

Ramones - Live 1977-12-31 (concert)

 

I'm way behind on all of my posts with several stuck in draft form, including several in memoriam posts.  Instead of doing the hard work of finishing those, I'll leave you with this gem I recently uncovered.  

"It's Alive" by the Ramones is considered one of the best punk live LPs, if not one of the best live LPs,  of all time.  The basis for that LP was this show at the Rainbow Theatre in London, which was one of the classic live venues in the UK during the 70s and early 80s.  In 1977, the Ramones were at their peak, enjoying a blistering streak of three classic LPs: Ramones (1976), Leave Home (1977), and Rocket to Russia (1977).  

This 26 minute clip is not the full show that comprised "It' Alive", but instead appears to be a 14 song compilation from the 2007 DVD release "It's Alive 1974--1996".  I'm not sure if the full concert is available online.  I need to return to my incomplete drafts, but until then enjoy this slice of 1977. 

John Prine - "Sam Stone" (forgotten song)

I'm far behind in my In Memoriam posts, so I'll close out 2020 by scratching one off the list and acknowledging the passing of John Prine, who we lost to Covid-19 near the beginning of the pandemic. 
 

I'll admit that while I knew of John Prine, I was mostly ignorant of his music.  But I did know the he was a songwriter's songwriter (cf. Roky Erickson, Daniel Johnston, and Leonard Cohen), and was revered by people I revere, such as Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan. 

I'm marking his passing with one his most celebrated songs: "Sam Stone", from his 1971 debut LP.   Today I learned that this song was referenced via melody in Pink Floyd's "The Post War Dream" and lyrically in Spiritualized's "Cop Shoot Cop", which are both on extraordinary LPs: "The Final Cut" and "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space", respectively. 

 

John Prine - "Sam Stone" -- live 1997, Sessions at West 54th; live 1988, Austin City Limits; 1971 LP Version

Bonus link: Johnny Cash, "Sam Stone" -- live 1987, Austin City Limits

Eric Clapton - "It's In The Way That You Use It" (forgotten song)

 

So it turns out that Eric Clapton is collaborating with Van Morrison for another anti-lock down song.  This is apparently separate from the Van Morrison songs we learned of last month.  This is disappointing, dangerous, and completely tone deaf: how many people should be put at risk so this septuagenarian can do live shows again?

I'm not the biggest Eric Clapton fan, but owing to the time and place of my birth, I can't help but a fan to a certain degree.   He's objectively a guitar god, "Badge", "Layla", and "Wonderful Tonight" are all great song, and they have formed the soundtrack for various moments in my life.  So with sadness, I have to admit that the news about Clapton's does have a measure of personal disappointment.  

I will mark this occasion with a song that I like, even if not one of his greatest.  "It's in the Way That You Use It" was first featured on the soundtrack of "The Color of Money", a film that I really enjoyed when it came out.  It was later released on his LP "August", but it will always be a soundtrack song for me.  I'm not here to convince you that it's one of his classics, and it definitely has cheesy 80s production.  In preparing this post I learned that it was co-written by Robbie Robertson, which is pretty cool.  But I'm not going to deny that I like this song, even if the latest news does diminish my enjoyment just a bit.

"I've seen dark skies, never like this"

Eric Clapton - "It's in the Way That You Use It"

The Outfield - "Your Love" (forgotten song)

"Josie's on a vacation far away

Come around and talk it over

So many things that I want to say

You know I like my girls a little bit older"

Every child of the 80s will immediately recognize the opening lyrics of The Outfield's 1986 hit, "Your Love".  Lead singer and bassist Tony Lewis died this week, and this caused a discussion on the on-going text chat with my friends.  No one claimed this was their favorite song, but all praised it being a "genius pop song" and the lyrical content applicable to the moral dilemmas of teenagers / young adults (in other words, being "down with O.P.P.").  It was a radio and MTV staple back in the 80s, and an inescapable part of our HS soundtrack.

In our discussion, an interesting question arose: is the side chick younger or older than Josie?  younger or older than the male?  I, along with all the guys on the chat, had always assumed that the side chick was youngest of this love triangle.  That's a safe cultural (and gendered) assumption.  But re-reading it today I was less certain: "I like my girls a little bit older" -- wait, is she the oldest one?  Is she Stacy's mom?  All of the sudden I wasn't sure.  

I asked Danette and she said she always assumed the side chick was the oldest of the three.  Hillary said she assumed the side chick was older than Josie, but still younger than the male.  

 

I only have a few data points, but maybe there's something to the idea of a gendered interpretation of this silly but fun song.

The Outfield - "Your Love" (official video, with extended intro), (radio & LP version)

Van Halen - "Diver Down" (LP Review)

Eddie Van Halen died just over a week ago.  Without exaggeration, he's one of the greatest rock guitarists to ever live, if not the best.  I realize there were others before him, and it's hard to compare different generations, and anyone starting out in the 70s would have the benefit of Clapton, Hendrix, Iommi, Blackmore, and other seminal guitarists.  Having acknowledged all of that, my opinion is that Eddie was indeed the best rock guitarist to have ever lived.  

Of course, I have to admit my own bias: Van Halen was probably the first band that for which I made a conscious decision to call myself a "fan".  By that I mean not just liking some songs that you heard on the radio or saw on MTV, but recognizing and identifying with the unique sound and image of the band and their entire canon.  At that time I could not have told you why Eddie Van Halen was special; the best I could do is say that he made the guitar "laugh" and it sounded like no other guitarist I had heard.

So why would I mark Eddie's passing with "Diver Down", probably the least regarded LP of the "classic era"?  If my memory serves me correctly, this is the first LP of theirs that I bought, probably at the K-Mart in Denbigh (see also: "Flirtin' With Disaster").  In 1982, the price of an LP represented quite an investment for a middle schooler, and I remember playing this LP to death: in part because I was a budding fan, and in part because my personal collection consisted of only a few LPs.  I loved it at the time, but later in life came to recognize its shortcomings.  The others?

• Van Halen - this was the first and probably their best, sounding nothing like what other bands were putting out ca. 1978
• Van Halen II - is a solid sophomore effort, but probably the one that I played the least at the time, in part because I never warmed to the opening song, their cover of "You're No Good"
• Women and Children First - while I can't say this is better than their debut LP, I can say this is my favorite of theirs now; if I were going to play a VH right now, this is the one I would reach for
• Fair Warning - undoubtedly their darkest and heaviest LP, with no party songs, TIC blues covers, or general screwing around; this would probably be the second one that I reached for now
• 1984 - while their most commercially successful LP, it is without a doubt my least favorite LP of this era; while there are some decent songs on 1984, the unnecessary keyboards and a Michael McDonald co-writing credit are just too much for me to swallow 

I'm not going to try to convince you that Diver Down is a great LP, but I can better contextualize it.  Apparently the original plan was to release "(Oh) Pretty Woman" as a non-LP single, but based on its success their label wanted an LP.  The result was a short (31minutes), 12 song LP that featured five covers,  three instrumentals, and one song adapted from their 1977 demos.   Clearly this was a stop-gap LP, released mainly to satisfy Warner Brothers.  

Still, there are some really good songs on this LP.  "Where Have All The Good Times Gone?" is a great cover (I've written elsewhere that all bands should cover songs by The Kinks), "Hang 'Em High" has a great riff, "(Oh) Pretty Woman" is a perfect song for David Lee Roth, and "Little Guitars" is a fun song.  

So this isn't the best LP from their classic era, but in my book it's still 10X better than 1984.  Diver Down means less to me in 2020, but it was very important to me in 1982, and so for nostalgia reasons I'm marking Eddie's passing with "Diver Down".  

Standout songs: "Where Have All The Good Times Gone?", "Hang 'Em High", "Intruder / (Oh) Pretty Woman", "Little Guitars (intro) / Little Guitars", "Happy Trails"

Skip' em songs: "Dancing in the Street" (not because it's a bad cover, but I detest all versions of this song)

Final score: 7/10

Random liner notes fact: Jan Van Halen, father of Eddie and Alex and an accomplished musician in his own right, plays clarinet on "Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)".  In the liner notes he's listed just as "Jan Van Halen", and knowing nothing about Dutch names in 1982 I just assumed "Jan" was Eddie and Alex's sister.  It was later in life that I learned the truth.

Van Morrison - "And It Stoned Me" (forgotten song)

Can we separate the art from the artist?  Sometimes?  Maybe?  Or perhaps just focus on the earlier part of their canon?  

Almost a month ago I saw that Van Morrison, who is nearly universally revered, had released three songs protesting the UK's Covid lock down.  Apparently they feature charming lyrics like scientists are "making up crooked facts" and "No more lockdown / No more government overreach". 

Why am I so disappointed to learn this?  Well, in addition to taking a dangerous and selfish position regarding his inability to tour, the lyrics seem a little too on the nose and not up to his standards.  I appreciate Van Morrison for his stories of fantasy, mysticism, spirituality, and nostalgia.  My all-time favorite of his is "And It Stoned Me", the opening track from his sublime 1970 LP "Moondance". 

Channeling the same coming-of-age nostalgia of "Stand By Me", "The Wonder Years", and "Dandelion Wine", it recalls the adventures of a single day where everything magically aligns.  Quoting from the Wikipedia page, which in turn quotes from Van Morrison's 1993 biography:

I suppose I was about 12 years old. We used to go to a place called Ballystockart to fish. We stopped in the village on the way up to this place and I went to this little stone house, and there was an old man there with dark weather-beaten skin, and we asked him if he had any water. He gave us some water which he said he'd got from the stream. We drank some and everything seemed to stop for me. Time stood still. For five minutes everything was really quiet and I was in this 'other dimension'. That's what the song is about.

Aside from being a great song, what's the personal connection for me?  It makes me recall a weekend during the summer of 1991.  I was 22, not 12, but like Van Morrison's imagery of the rain, the fishing hole, and "great big gallon jar", water was a recurring theme for that weekend.  The mists of time may have caused me to conflate the events of multiple trips, but all of these things happened and I'm pretty sure they all happened in one weekend.

Half a mile from the county fair

And the rain came pourin' down

Me and Billy standin' there

With a silver half a crown

Hands are full of a fishin' rod

And the tackle on our backs

We just stood there gettin' wet

With our backs against the fence

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Hope it don't rain all day

I had graduated and was about to start working at CSC as a contractor for NASA (my time as a civil servant did not begin until that Fall). Drew, Terry, and Fred were all a grade behind me and staying at UVa and JMU for the summer in between their junior and senior years.  I drove from Newport News to Charlottesville in my 1968 Mercury Cougar and picked up Drew, and the two of us drove to Harrisonburg to visit Terry and Fred for the weekend.  While driving the scenic, mountainous route (US 29-US 33) between Charlottesville and Harrisonburg, the Cougar's radiator hose burst and steam was pouring from under the hood.  On back roads and in the days before cell phones, this could have been a disaster, stranding us miles from help.  Instead, right as the steam was pouring out, an exit appeared and Drew and I were able to coast through the exit and straight to a service station, where we were patched up and soon back on our way.  

I had originally planned to stay at Terry's place, but we stopped by Fred's first and his place was so nice that I never made it to Terry's (Fred was one of the few people who at 21 had a place that looked like it belonged to a married 40 year old).  Later that night, thanks to Fred, was the first and only time that I've been thrown out of a bar.  

Then the rain let up and the sun came up

And we were gettin' dry

Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by

So we jumped right in and the driver grinned

And he dropped us up the road

Yeah, we looked at the swim and we jumped right in

Not to mention fishing poles

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Let it run all over me

The next day a bunch of us drove out to Switzer Lake and the day began with us jumping into the lake via a rope swing hanging from a tree on the side of a ridge.  Later we were in canoes and paddled around the lake, including seeing the structures you see at 3:06 in this video.  After canoeing, we hiked around the lake some and eventually came across a large boulder, maybe 5' in diameter, partially embedded at the top of a ridge.  Fueled by our collective testosterone, we decided that the boulder needed to be dislodged, freed from centuries of imprisonment on the side of the hill.  It was quite an undertaking given its size and its deep embedding.  We immediately attacked it with our hands and sticks, slowly digging it out.  Since I was the only one of our crew that had taken engineering classes, I introduced them to the idea of levers and fulcrums and then we started making real progress.  After much effort, we had the sweet release of watching the tumbling boulder of death race down the hillside.  The sun was setting, and sore, hungry and thirsty, we began the trek back to the parking lot, satisfied with our pointless triumph over nature.  It had been a perfect day, and there was no way it could be improved upon.

On the way back home we sang a song

But our throats were getting dry

Then we saw the man from across the road

With the sunshine in his eyes

Well he lived all alone in his own little home

With a great big gallon jar

There were bottles too, one for me and you

And he said Hey! There you are

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Get it myself from the mountain stream

But it did get better: as we approached that picnic area next to the parking lot, Fred saw that members of his fraternity were there and having a cookout.  Greetings were exchanged and we simply strolled into an ongoing party, complete with music, food, and beer.  An already perfect day improved, via a level of serendipity that could exist only in a pre-cellphone era.  

So why does this song resonate with me?  On the surface, Van Morrison's images of the pastoral pleasures of a 12 year old would not seem to speak to me at 22 years old. Sure, there's the recurring motif of water (rain, fishing hole, drinking vs. radiators, Switzer Lake, and, well, drinking).  But reflecting on this further, I think there's more.  First, thanks to Daryl Schoolar's recommendation from a year or so earlier, "Moondance" was still a new LP to me in 1991.  Second, the summer of 91 was a turbulent one for me, including my transition from being a college student to having a career.  This was the weekend before I started full-time with CSC, and while Terry, Drew, and Fred still had a year (or more) of college, I knew I was in transition.  This was not the end of my adventures with Terry, Drew, and Fred -- indeed, the hijinks continue to this day -- but it will never be the summer of 91 again. 

So I will do my best to separate the artist (ca. 2020) from the art (ca. 1970 & 1991) and not let Van Morrison's current commercial crassness erase the magic of "Moondance", its bucolic opening song, and those transcendental moments in 1991.

And it stoned me to my soul

Stoned me just like Jelly Roll

And it stoned me

And it stoned me to my soul

Stoned me just like goin' home

And it stoned me

Van Morrison - "And It Stoned Me"