Sunday, June 29, 2008

The Grass Roots -- "Midnight Confessions"

Rock and roll is filled with "manufactured" groups -- acts that were put together solely for the purpose of looking good and singing hits written by professional songwriters and producers. The most famous case, of course, is The Monkees.

The Grass Roots (and note that "grass" and "roots" are two separate words for these guys) started off as one thing and then, like a writer taking out his pencil eraser, wiped it out and created something completely different.

I was listening to The Grass Roots' Greatest Hits today in my car and was struck how their first great hit, "Let's Live For Today," sounds almost nothing like what followed afterwards. Heck, that song was even in the famous Nuggets garage rock compilation.

The Grass Roots were ABC subsidiary Dunhill's baby, under the wing of the Steve Barri/P.F. Sloan team. It was when they released "Midnight Confessions," a completely re-arranged version of a song written by Lou Josie for a group he managed called The Evergreen Blues, that the group exploded into a string of best-selling singles.

"Midnight Confessions" was truly the template for the big songs that came afterwards: slick pop/soul tracks, infused with traces of bubblegum, performed and arranged by the top L.A. studio cats. In a way, The Grass Roots were like an even smoother version of Three Dog Night, white boys with great voices, covering other people's songs with a little soul inside. The personnel of The Grass Roots may have changed every couple of years, but the one constant was lead singer Rob Grill.

That pop/soul LA sound really blossomed in the early 70's, notably with Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds ("Don't Pull Your Love," "Fallin' In Love") and the Four Tops' post-Motown run at Dunhill ("Keeper of the Castle," "Ain't No Woman (Like The One I Got").

For a simple pop single, the arrangement for "Midnight Confessions" is quite intricate, changing keys and chords patterns throughout the song. With that unmistakable opening bass line and cracking Jimmy Haskell horn arrangement (same guy who did Steely Dan's "My Old School" and you can definitely tell), "Midnight Confessions" just sort of grabbed you with its infectious tambourine beat and prominent organ arpeggios and chords. Grill has an air of desperation with his pop single predicament -- the girl he loves is engaged? Married?

The sound of your footsteps
Telling me that you're near
Your soft gentle motion, baby
Brings out the need in me that no-one can hear, except

In my midnight confessions
When I tell all the world that I love you
In my midnight confessions
When I say all the things that I want to
I love you!

But a little gold ring you wear on your hand makes me understand
There's another before me, you'll never be mine
I'm wasting my time.

Staggering through the daytime
Your image on my mind
Passing so close beside you baby
Sometimes the feelings are so hard to hide, except...

In my midnight confessions
When I tell all the world that I love you
In my midnight confessions
When I say all the things that I want to
I love you!


In around 2000, I was out in LA handling the publicity for Maxim magazine's first party there ("Circus Maximus") and the contracted producer had a gorgeous staff member helping us get ready for the big event. She was in her early 20's and was tantalizing us all with promises that she was going to visit New York City. She said her last name was Grill and her father "toured and sang." Well, leave it to the music trivia nut to take a few seconds and pull it out of the hat to ask her, "Rob Grill? The Grass Roots?" And yes, this was his daughter.

Below is a classic late 60's video of the band lip-synching their way through the marvelous "Midnight Confessions." I'm loving Rob Grill's pink frilly shirt under his brown tassled jacket... very hip.


Friday, June 27, 2008

Two more great song openings from the 60's and 70's

I recently heard two more song introductions that absolutely qualify for my list of Best Song Openings of the 60's and 70's. And just to remind you of the criteria, I'm not looking at openings that mimic the song's riff or chord pattern... I'm looking at intro's that stand unto themselves, intro's that have almost nothing to do with the rest of the song, they were written to be, well, original cool curtain raisers by themselves.

So the list now rises to nineteen songs.


Steely Dan -- "Josie": Here's a perfect example of what I mean, if you haven't clicked back to the original posting. It hit me when I recently took the family to see Steely Dan perform at the Beacon Theater. "Josie" opens with a weird Asian-sounding set of cutting electric guitar minor-key root chords with wind chimes swirling around in the background, a high hat lightly keeping a quarter note beat to build the tension. It segues into four typical Steely Dan minor seventh chords, cymbals crashing on each chord, hanging on the last one while an electric piano twirls some notes... then wham, into the funky beat and guitar riff of the song. The intro and the rest of the song are not related, but somehow they just click. Everything about the Steely Dan world is off-kilter, so piecing these two parts together seamlessly is par for the Fagen/Becker course.


The Mama's and The Papa's -- "California Dreaming": I had this entire song in reserve for a deserved post by itself, but as far as great intro's, this one was not only outstanding, but done on an acoustic guitar, well ahead of the similar sounding Simon & Garfunkel's "The Boxer." Pretty much panned to the left speaker, a solo acoustic guitarist picks out a canticle-like E suspended pattern, joined by another guitar in a higher counter melody until a hard E major chord strum. Pause. And then out of the right speaker, "All the leaves are brown...."

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Isley Brothers -- "That Lady" (1973)

The Isley Brothers have such a long history in both rock and soul music, even before the genres were distinctly separated, but are often overlooked because of their scattered history of their music fitting in with the times.

It's perfectly understandable that a band that once had Jimi Hendrix as a member would evolve into a powerhouse of rock, soul and funk, much like The Chambers Brothers did the job in the late 60's ("Time Has Come Today"). "That Lady" took the rock and soul, drove it through some distorted amps, and blew it out all over the charts in a real tour de force.

The question I always had about "That Lady" is that wailing lead instrument that plays virtually throughout the entire song -- is it a highly distorted guitar or synthesizer? There's so much overblown tube action -- practically a sizzle -- that it is difficult to determine what the hell is playing. After rummaging through several online videos, it's definitely Ernie Isley's Stratocaster guitar.

Plugged through a phaser pedal, the opening Cm and Fm chords constitute one of the great unsung rock riffs. Then with Ronnie Isley doing his immortal "Purrr purrr!" yelp, that wicked guitar lead line sears right into the rhythm. That's when Marvin Isley's bass comes in, a wonderful stop and start anchor to it, and you can find numerous YouTube videos of amateurs showing off their chops to it.

"That Lady" rocks about as hard as a soul song can do. Furious rhythm riffs, while Ernie's guitar lines go all over the place in a psychedelic washout. It's only during the break when Ernie stops for about, oh, 10 seconds, that you hear an organ underneath the whole thing!

Who's that lady? (Who's that lady?)
Beautiful lady. (Who's that lady?)
Lovely lady. (Who's that lady?)
Real fine lady. (Who's that lady?)

Hear me calling out to you,
Cause that's all that I can do.
Your eyes tell me to pursue.
But you say, "Look, yeah, but don't touch."

Who's that lady? (Who's that lady?)
Sexy lady. (Who's that lady?)
Beautiful lady. (Who's that lady?)
Real fine lady. (Who's that lady?)

I would dance upon a string.
Any gift she'd want, I'd bring.
I would give her anything,
If she would just do what I say.

Who's that lady? (Who's that lady?)
Beautiful lady. (Who's that lady?)
Lovely lady. (Who's that lady?)
Real real fine lady. (Who's that lady?)

I would love to take her home,
But her heart is made of stone.
Gotta keep on keeping on.
If I don't, she'll do me wrong.


While digging up the art for this post, I discovered that the Isleys originally recorded this song in 1964 and then brought it back out in its well-known highly-charged arrangement nearly 10 years later when three more family members joined the band. Now I gotta dig up the original and find out what it sounded like.

One of the reasons why "That Lady" was such a smash is that it crossed all musical genres on the radio -- rock, soul and Top 40 stations were all spinning it simultaneously. The full album version is six minutes long, so the 45 was an edited down three minute version, cutting off a lot of the long guitar solo, and released as "That Lady (Part 1)."

Below are some very cool videos, starting with the Isleys themselves performing the song at twice the speed live on "Soul Train" in the early 70's. Then there a nice video featuring the full album version. And finally, the Isley Brothers duetting with Ashanti on VH1's "Diva" TV special. All I can say about these videos is wow, look at those Marshall amp stacks, the outfits these guys wear, and Ernie's crazy behind the back stuff.