Early ’70s Pop
What makes pop, pop?
It’s strange to me that we frequently have an idea of what does or doesn’t fit in a particular genre … but I wonder how easy it would be to define why we make the choices we make. Here are a few things I’ve been listening to recently that I consider pop or partially (in Rundgren’s case) pop.
No Dice (1970)—Badfinger
Nilsson Schmilsson (1971)—Harry Nilsson
Imagine (1971)—John Lennon
Something/Anything? (1972)—Todd Rundgren
Baby I’m-a Want You (1972)—Bread
Raspberries (1972)—The Raspberries
#1 Record (1972)—Big Star
Yellow Brick Road (1973)—Elton John
What do all these albums have in common? It’s hard to talk about these qualities without falling back on clichés like “pop production values,” or the fact that pop lyrics, generally speaking, are centered on relationships (but aren’t most song lyrics focused on relationships?).
It’s odd, to me, that I don’t consider a lot of Elton John’s early albums—Tumbleweed Connection (1970) and Honky Chateau (1972)—pop albums. There are song exceptions, though, like “Rocket Man,” which sounds like a pop song to me. The problem is, I’m not sure I’d call these albums rock either. In my mind, they fill this nebulous middle ground between pop and rock. Musically, Tumbleweed Connection rocks pretty hard, and the songs may even connect together into some kind of theme. But still, no one has ever taken Bernie Taupin’s lyrics as more than fluff.
There’s also the matter that I’d consider most of these albums good pop as opposed to the Top 40 dross that came out between 1970-1973. So there’s good pop it seems, and bad pop … and there are songs that fit in somewhere between pop and rock. Why, though, is it so different when Elton John and Rod Stewart sing “Country Comfort?” Or when Harry Nilsson and Pete Ham sing “Without You?”
Pop as Value Judgment
The pop/rock divide …
I was listening to John Lennon’s Imagine (1971) yesterday during lunch … and it occurred to me that I didn’t—despite a good set list—particularly like the album. It also occurred to me that I considered Imagine a pop album, as opposed to Plastic Ono Band (1970), which I considered a rock album. This bugged me because I’ve wondered—for some time—if the pop/rock divide isn’t somewhat artificial.
The general idea seems to be that pop is artifice and rock is authentic, that one serves little more purpose than to sound pretty and offer pretty sentiments while the other is about getting at the truth somehow. Plastic Ono Band swirls around Lennon himself, offering gritty revelations and observations against barebones arrangements; Imagine is a disparate batch of songs with light pop arrangements (piano, strings) and populist sentimentsv
I think the problem here is that Lennon made both albums within a year … making Imagine seem fake by comparison. Even throwaways on Plastic Ono Band—“Well Well Well”—seem to offer more than cliché ditties like “Crippled Inside” from Imagine.
Which leaves me with an open question or two: Does the pop/rock divide assume too much (about authenticity, for instance)? Or does the pop/rock divide—when you look at Imagine and Plastic Ono Band—really make sense (is rock really more authentic)?
Brewer, Shipley, and Welk
Two tokes over the line …
I had planned for my next entry to be a compare/contrast of Harry Nilsson and Badfinger’s versions of “Without You” … but got sidetracked listening to The Best of Brewer and Shipley. I only knew the group from “One Toke Over the Line” … so I did a little background research on the Net. I soon became distracted, however, by a clip a found on YouTube.
Come to find out that that a couple simply named Gail and Dale performed the song on the Lawrence Welk Show. I imagined that this happened sometime in the early ’70s (“One Toke” charted in 1971) … but if you know your Welk, it seems to be taking place in some time warp, circa 1947.
I always liked the song and the line “one toke over the line sweet Jesus,” even though it seemed like little more than Association-styled pop, a couple years too late (“Along Comes Mary”). After listening to the sunshiny Gail and Dale cut loose of “One Toke Over the Line,” however, Brewer and Shipley’s version seemed to be brimming with authenticity.
Welk tops off Gail and Dale’s performance by calling “One Toke” a “modern spiritual.” It seems impossible that these guys could’ve been this naïve (I mean, the song was controversial) … and it’s tempting to think they simply did the song straight to put one over on Welk’s audience. Whatever the reason, it’s a beautiful cultural collision, brought to you by Geritol and Rose Milk.
Does Power Pop Live Up to Its Rep?
Never underestimate one great song.
I went on a research trip earlier this week … and loaded up the Corolla’s CD player with lots of Power Pop and non-Power Pop. The Raspberries, Bad Finger, and Big Star … along with Harry Nilsson, Todd Rundgren, and Bread. Some of it was new to me … and some of it I’ve been listening to for a while.
I continue to love the best of Badfinger, and of the big three Power Pop groups from the early ’70s (Badfinger, Big Star, and the Raspberries), I think they’re the best. Still, only about half of No Dice and Straight Up are really solid. The overall results for the Raspberries and Big Star, seem to me, even weaker. There are great moments—“The Ballad of El Goodo” and “I’m in Love with a Girl” (Big Star) and “Go All the Way” (Raspberries)—but how much of the rest of each band’s material reaches this level?
This is the problem with Badfinger, too. They can deliver a solid rocker like “I Can’t Take It” from the beginning of No Dice and then return two songs later with a throw away like “Love Me Do” (not the Beatles’ song). In fact, Badfinger doesn’t even sound like the same band on cuts like “Flying” or “Money” from Straight Up.
While I’m still in the process of digesting Power Pop, the genre, overall, seems to be over sold. The power of individual tracks, however, should not be underestimated. How many bands ever cut a track like “The Ballad of El Goodo” or “Go All the Way” or “Day After Day?”
Pop & Punk
Guilty Pleasures v. Noisy Medicine
I’ve been listening to early ’70s pop, Elton John, Big Star, Bread, and Badfinger … and I’ve ordered several things to fill gaps including stuff by the Raspberries, Todd Rungren, and Harry Nilsson. Fun stuff. I’ve been trying to build my ’70’s collection so that I can start exploring another book idea … and wanted to focus on classic rock and punk … And although punk is a real weak point for me, I still find myself more interested in early ’70s pop right now.
I like some aspects of the punk/ post-punk albums I’ve listened to recently—the Clash’s London Calling, Pere Ubu’s The Modern Dance, and Richard Hell and the Voidoids’ Blank Generation—but I’m more likely to put on No Dice or Straight Up by Badfinger. Neither of the Badfinger albums are perfect—both have spotty tracks—but when the band gets it together on songs like “We’re for the Dark” or “I’ll Be the One,” they’re incredible.
I wonder if a certain aspect of punk—the shock of a new sound juxtaposed against the old—is lost when looking back. It’s as though you have to work at liking punk, overlooking the fact that no one can sing that well (Joe Strummer, Hell, or David Thomas), or that the best songs on a disc like Blank Generation—“Blank Generation” and “Love Comes in Spurts”—overshadow everything else or that too much of The Modern Dance runs together.
It’s reasonable to ask if there is much or any depth to, say, Bread or Elton John, and I admit that I find myself less patient with albums like Baby I’m-a Want You (1972) and Yellow Brick Road (1973) after digging deeper into better pop bands like Badfinger. Still … I’m not in any hurry to pick up another Pere Ubu album … though I’m sure I will eventually.
