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Ryder & the Wheels' second album, featuring the classic "Devil with a Blue Dress On/Good Golly, Miss Molly" workout, continues the pattern of their debut; strong renditions of R&B classics, chopped and channeled and revved up to maximum torque. With the use of the original two-track master, the sound of it fairly sparkles. AMG.
Tommy James & the Shondells' second album, It's Only Love, put forth a bubblegum image that haunted the artist through most of the '60s and '70s. The title track sounds like David Cassidy's Partridge Family and is actually the first of many hits Ritchie Cordell would write for the group, though it isn't as classic as his "Mony Mony" or "I Think We're Alone Now" would become. "Juanita (Nothin's Gonna Stop Our Love)" is or could be the McCoys backing up Tony Orlando and Dawn -- this Henry Glover production feels a bit more contrived and is an abrupt change from the sound and the collegiate look of the debut disc, Hanky Panky. On that long-player, the Shondells resembled the Kingsmen on campus, and as a public relations move that earlier style worked much better. Still, this is a great learning period for an important and innovative artist and should be viewed as such, despite its musical limitations. "Big Time Operator" is typical low-budget '60s teenybop, while the cover of Lee Dorsey's "Ya Ya" is authentic enough to indicate a sense of direction taking shape. Side two fares much better; "We'll Have a World" and "Don't Let My Love Pass You By" may have influenced popular songs of the day, the latter displaying a touch of the American Breed's 1968 hit "Bend Me Shape Me" and a whole lot of 1967's "Come on Down to My Boat Baby" by Every Mother's Son, to the point where it is too close to call. The cover of B.J. Thomas' 1966 ballad "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry," which was itself a cover of a 1949 Hank Willams composition, is quaint, but definitely not the Tommy James who would sing with authority and soon dominate the charts. He's still getting his feet wet with It's Only Love and it gives his fans the opportunity to watch him grow as they look back and see the transition from "Hanky Panky" to "Crimson and Clover." This is what came in between, and though not as substantial as the highly consistent other albums by the Shondells, it has its place. AMG.
In the spring of 1966, If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears represented a genuinely new sound, as fresh to listeners as the songs on Meet the Beatles had seemed two years earlier. Released just as "California Dreaming" was ascending the charts by leaps and bounds, it was the product of months of rehearsal in the Virgin Islands and John Phillips' discovery of what one could do to build a polished recorded sound in the studio -- it embraced folk-rock, pop/rock, pop, and soul, and also reflected the kind of care that acts like the Beatles were putting into their records at the time. "Monday, Monday" and "California Dreamin'" are familiar enough to anyone who's ever listened to the radio, and "Go Where You Wanna Go" isn't far behind, in this version or the very similar rendition by the Fifth Dimension. But the rest is mighty compelling even to casual listeners, including the ethereal "Got a Feelin'," the rocking "Straight Shooter" and "Somebody Groovy," the jaunty, torch song-style version of "I Call Your Name," and the prettiest versions of "Do You Wanna Dance" and "Spanish Harlem" that anyone ever recorded.
One of the most underrated rockers of the 1960s, Johnny Rivers was a guy who served up the big beat strong and simple -- on most of his best records, he set up at the Whisky A Go-Go in L.A. with a crack rhythm section and rolled tape as he let rip on a set of classic R&B tunes and pop hits, with his sturdy but passionate voice and no-nonsense guitar work doing the talking. And I Know You Wanna Dance was Rivers' fourth live album, and if it sometimes sounds like the work of a bar band, in this context that's a compliment -- Rivers was a guy who played to rock the party, and if he's playing what the audience wants to hear on this disc, he also did it very well indeed, and his covers of "Uptight (Everything's Alright)," "Every Day I Have to Cry," "Respect," and "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" are potent blue-eyed soul with lots of feeling and no unnecessary fuss. Rivers could also dig deeper into the blues bag when he felt like it, and while "The Snake" and "Foolkiller" are uptempo rockers, their tough roots shine through bright and clear. Rivers' sharp, efficient lead guitar is on point throughout the album, and his bandmembers -- including Mickey Jones on drums and Larry Knechtel on keys -- are tight and tasty without getting in the way. Johnny Rivers may not have been the hippest guy on the charts, but he played real-deal rock & roll the way it was meant to sound, and And I Know You Wanna Dance is a lot more fun to listen to than a lot of other albums with much higher hipster cred. AMG.
Although the Byrds' Fifth Dimension was wildly uneven, its high points were as innovative as any rock music being recorded in 1966. Immaculate folk-rock was still present in their superb arrangements of the traditional songs "Wild Mountain Thyme" and "John Riley." For the originals, they devised some of the first and best psychedelic rock, often drawing from the influence of Indian raga in the guitar arrangements. "Eight Miles High," with its astral lyrics, pumping bassline, and fractured guitar solo, was a Top 20 hit, and one of the greatest singles of the '60s. The minor hit title track and the country-rock-tinged "Mr. Spaceman" are among their best songs; "I See You" has great 12-string psychedelic guitar solos; and "I Come and Stand at Every Door" is an unusual and moving update of a traditional rock tune, with new lyrics pleading for peace in the nuclear age. At the same time, the R&B instrumental "Captain Soul" was a throwaway, "Hey Joe" not nearly as good as the versions by the Leaves or Jimi Hendrix, and "What's Happening?!?!" the earliest example of David Crosby's disagreeably vapid hippie ethos. These weak spots keep Fifth Dimension from attaining truly classic status. [The CD reissue has six notable bonus tracks, including the single version of the early psychedelic cut "Why" (the B-side to "Eight Miles High"), a significantly different alternate take of "Eight Miles High," "I Know My Rider" (with some fine Roger McGuinn 12-string workouts), and a much jazzier, faster instrumental version of "John Riley."] AMG.
Having released two previous albums and a soundtrack, along with a stream of singles, over the previous 12 and a half months, the Lovin' Spoonful assembled their third regular studio LP, Hums of the Lovin' Spoonful, for release around Thanksgiving 1966. It contained the group's chart-topping single from the previous June, "Summer in the City," along with September's Top Ten hit "Rain on the Roof" (curiously titled "You and Me and Rain on the Roof" on the LP). Released simultaneously with the album and included on it were the two songs from the next single, "Nashville Cats," which became the band's seventh consecutive Top Ten entry, and "Full Measure," a B-side featuring drummer Joe Butler on lead vocals that scraped into the singles chart. Those were the money songs, although Bobby Darin discovered the leadoff track, "Lovin' You," and quickly covered it for a Top 40 hit, and the moody "Coconut Grove," a tribute to Fred Neil, would become a permanent part of Spoonful leader John Sebastian's repertoire in his solo career. An emphasis on the parts of the album is a way of describing it as more a loose collection of disparate tracks than a unified effort, despite Sebastian's hand in all the compositions and his lead vocals on most of them. This was by necessity, but also by design, since Sebastian and co. went into the studio trying to sound completely different each time. They often succeeded: Except for the vocal similarity, the rock band playing "Summer in the City" and the caustic, autobiographical "4 Eyes" doesn't sound much like the country unit picking its way through "Lovin' You" and "Nashville Cats." Sebastian may have been an obvious New Yorker (those "yellow Sun records" were from Memphis, not Nashville), but that didn't keep him from expressing his musical passions effectively. The 2003 Sundazed LP reissue added four demos, instrumental tracks, and alternate versions of songs from the album. AMG.
Less of a hodgepodge than his debut In The Midnight Hour album, Pickett's second album established -- if there had been any doubt -- his stature as a major '60s soul man. The 12 tracks include his monster hits "634-5789," "Ninety-Nine And A Half (Won't Do)," "In The Midnight Hour," and "Land Of 1000 Dances" (the last of which was his first Top Ten pop hit). Collectors will be more interested in the non-hit cuts, which are of nearly an equal level. These include covers of the R&B standards "Something You Got," "Mercy Mercy," and "Barefootin'"; several original tunes written in collaboration with Memphis soul greats Steve Cropper, Eddie Floyd, and David Porter; and Bobby Womack's "She's So Good To Me." It all adds up to one of the most consistent 1960s soul albums. The CD reissue of this 1966 record features detailed liner notes and session documentation. AMG.
Usually thought of as a middle-of-the-road popular singer, Françoise Hardy -- at the beginning of her career, at least -- covered more stylistic ground and owed more debts to pop/rock than she's given credit for. Immensely popular in her native France, the chanteuse first displayed her breathy, measured vocals in the early and mid-'60s. Her (mostly self-penned) recordings from that era draw from French pop traditions, lightweight '50s teen idol rock, girl groups, and sultry jazz and blues -- sometimes in the same song. The material is perhaps too unreservedly sentimental for some (in the French tradition), but the songs are invariably catchy and the production, arrangements, and near-operatic backup harmonies excellent, at times almost Spector-esque. Fans of Marianne Faithfull's mid-'60s work can find something of a French equivalent here, though Hardy's material was stronger and her delivery more confident.
Brian Auger was raised in London, where he took up the keyboards as a child and began to hear jazz by way of the American Armed Forces Network and an older brother's record collection. By his teens, he was playing piano in clubs, and by 1962 he had formed the Brian Auger Trio with bass player Rick Laird and drummer Phil Knorra. In 1964, he won first place in the categories of "New Star" and "Jazz Piano" in a reader's poll in the Melody Maker music paper, but the same year he abandoned jazz for a more R&B-oriented approach and expanded his group to include John McLaughlin (guitar) and Glen Hughes (baritone saxophone) as the Brian Auger Trinity. This group split up at the end of 1964, and Auger moved over to Hammond B-3 organ, teaming with bass player Rick Brown and drummer Mickey Waller. After a few singles, he recorded his first LP on a session organized to spotlight blues singer Sonny Boy Williamson that featured his group, saxophonists Joe Harriott and Alan Skidmore, and guitarist Jimmy Page; it was Don't Send Me No Flowers, released in 1968.
The British version of the Stones' first album has a nearly identical cover to its American equivalent, issued six weeks later, but a slightly different song lineup. Among these 12 songs, absent is "Not Fade Away," which was a hit single in England (where singles and LPs were usually kept separate), and in its place is the Stones' cover of Bo Diddley's "Mona (I Need You Baby)" (credited here as "I Need You Baby"), which had to wait until Rolling Stones Now!, a year later, for its U.S. release. It's not a big switch, a Bo Diddley-style cover of a Buddy Holly song bumping an actual Bo Diddley cover on the U.S. version. Otherwise, the main difference lies in the version of "Tell Me" included here, which sounds about two generations hotter than any edition of the song ever released in the U.S. -- it's the long version, with the break that was cut from the single, but the British LP and the original late-'80s Decca U.K. compact disc (820 047-2) both contain a version without any fade, running the better part of a minute longer than the U.S. release of the song, until the band literally stops playing. AMG.