The Grass Roots, prefab though they were in ways, were underrated insofar as the product they produced. Some of my very favorite songs of the 1966-1972 pop goldmine era came from them, from "Where Were You When I Needed You" to "Two Divided By Love." With their double-barreled vocal pair and the highly unorthodox (to my eyes) drumming of Sean Penn dead ringer Rick Coonce (seriously, he plays the drums as if he's twirling a Chinese yo-yo), they came up with a lengthy string of trash-single (and I use that term lovingly) pop gems.
Of them, "I'd Wait a Million Years" is my favorite (and a topic for another day), but the most interesting is
"Midnight Confessions," an admission of desire for an unattainable other, a feeling we've all had at one time or another. I've worn that T-shirt more than once or twice myself. My friend Mike called my attention to Meatloaf video vixen
Karla DeVito's version, but I'm afraid I have little use for it: she turns a genuinely painful situation into camp, in an unfunny way (she's crushing on a guy who beat up "Weird Al" Yankovic for his mustache and glasses? Really?). Like Toni Basil without the gleeful overlighting, Jane Wiedlin without a mission, Cyndi Lauper without a tool to pleasure herself: Just somehow missing the point.
And that's more than enough parentheticals for one day.
Happy 40th birthday, Sesame Street. You were my favorite block to hang out on through most of the '70s.
I spent much of the past two weeks in San Francisco, my former home and eventual home again someday. Said goodbye to one dear friend (R.I.P. Angela Welch) and hello to numerous others - some former co-workers and happy-hour revelers, some fellow music fanatics. Saw many of my favorite former haunts - neighborhoods, restaurants, bars, shops - and a few new ones too. Made my usual pilgrimage to Amoeba Music, the world's greatest record store, where I am incapable of spending under $50 once I get going. And attended the annual Bridge School Benefit concert, Neil Young's annual undertaking to raise funds for the Bridge School, which aids children with speech and physical impairments to learn and express themselves.
Damn if this isn't the most fucking fascist pop song ever:
Origins of the power ballad? Not really, and not just because "I Love You This Much" wasn't a hit. Jefferson (not to be confused with my beloved interstellar flying contraption), the nom de disque of former Rockin' Berries vocalist Geoff Turton, seems to have been rather influenced by Nilsson's "Without You," a more likely candidate as progenitor of the species. It's lightweight, but don't take "I Love You This Much" lightly: there's a thoughtful and poetic sweetness to Jefferson's longings, and the melody is pretty enough that you can easily overlook the lack of a refrain.
That lyric really takes on an ugly sheen now, dunnit?
So begins another fall, and this message of unresolved and unsatisfied longing feels appropriate for a summer that never truly became summer, in a year when few dreams came true: "Forever Autumn," Justin Hayward's best work outside the Moodies.
