Iron Leg Digital Trip #25 – Sunny Day People

The Millennium

Playlist

Sonny & Cher – It’s Gonna Rain (Atlantic)
Lesley Gore – The Bubble Broke (Mercury)
Tommy Roe – Misty Eyes (ABC)
Janis Ian – Sweet Misery (Verve)
Millennium – Prelude/To Claudia On Thursday (Columbia)
Cast of Thousands – My Jenny Wears a Mini (Tower)
Sundowners – Sunny Day People (Decca)
Merry Go Round – Time Will Show The Wiser (A&M)
Association – Come On In (WB)
Kingsmen – Little Sally Tease (Wand)
Paul Revere & the Raiders – Louise (Columbia)
JK & Company – Crystal Ball (White Whale)
Blood Sweat and Tears – Smiling Phases (Columbia)
Kaleidoscope – Pulsating Dream (Epic)
New Zealand Trading Company – Oh What a Day (Memphis)
Rugbys – You I (Amazon)

Listen/Download 82MB Mixed MP3

Download 80MB ZIP File-

Greetings all.
I hope that the beginning of a new week finds you all well.
The summer is finally here, and the irony of my seemingly endless litany of complaints about its absence is not lost on me.
What better way to get the summer off to a rousing start than a new edition of the Iron Leg Digital Trip (the 25th!), packed end to end with pop goodness. You get Sunset Strip, sunshine pop, garage pop, folk rock, psych pop, and even something a little heavy to wrap your ears around as you sit on the veranda sipping mint juleps and swatting flies.
Things get started with one of my favorite records (if you’ve been to Funky16Corners you’ll know that its soulful instrumental version by Gentleman June Gardner is a big fave too), ‘It’s Gonna Rain’ by Sonny and Cher. Thanks to the fact that most people never turn over their 45s, this song (the b-side of ‘I Got You Babe’) is not well known. It may also have something to do with the fact that in the S&C oeuvre, there is hardly another record as close to the sounds of 60s punk. ‘It’s Gonna Rain’ sounds like Sonny had the band take the recorder player from the a-side out into the alley and beaten soundly, so that they could work it out to the fullest extent. I never get tired of this one.
Lesley Gore first appeared here a few months back with her version of the song ‘Off and Running’ also recorded by the Mindbenders (and also posted here). Originating from the same LP (‘California Nights’) ‘The Bubble Broke’ is a window into the light pop take on a somewhat harder vibe. There are all the usual girl-group elements, but they’re tempered with hard hitting drums and just a taste of fuzz guitar (not to mention a great vocal by Gore) and some kind of cheap combo organ.
Tommy Roe was a solid hitmaker through the 60s but rarely did he make music as wonderful as that on the 1967 LP ‘It’s Now Winters Day’. This is due in large part to the involvement of the great Curt Boettcher and his traveling circus of musical compadres. Almost completely unknown to Joe Six-pack, Boettcher spent the 60s creating some of the finest pop music ever heard, both in his own projects (the Ballroom, Sagittarius, Millennium) and as a producer/arranger/composer for hire (working with big names like the Association and countless, more obscure artists). It was in the latter capacity that he helped Roe make his finest album. One of my favorite tracks from that album is the harmony tour de force ‘Misty Eyes’. Mixing a Bo Diddley beat, electric sitar and Boettcher’s patented waves of sunny harmony,’Misty Eyes’ manages to gather many of the hallmarks of the underground sound and wrap them up in a bundle of pure pop. Sometime in the not too distant future I’ll be putting together a mix of Boettcher’s best material, on his own, working with others, and interpreted by other artists that will feature some really interesting stuff (the Brady Bunch, anyone?).
That I continue to discover surprises in the early work of Janis Ian is illustrated by the fuzzed out track ‘Sweet Misery’, from her 1968 LP ‘The Secret Life of J. Eddy Fink’. Backed once again by the cream of New York’s session heavies, Ian really rips into ‘Sweet Misery’ and the vibe once again borrows heavily from the garagey side of things.
Speaking of Curt Boettcher, the very apex of his art was the 1968 album by the Millennium. Whereas Sagittarius was as much Gary Usher’s project as it was his own, the Millennium saw Boettcher taking the wheel (often to the consternation of his collaborators) and driving to pop heaven at top speed. Though Boettcher only wrote about half the songs, the LP it is unmistakably his work. The medley that opens the Millennium’s sole LP ‘Begin’, ‘Prelude / To Claudia on Thursday’ is the best thing on a record packed to the rafters with wonders. ‘Prelude’, composed by ex-Music Machine members Ron Edgar and Doug Rhodes features Edgar’s pounding drums (making the rare Columbia 45 of the tune sought after by the crate digger set) is just under a minute and a half of sonic wonder, followed by ‘To Claudia on Thursday’ (written by guitarists Michael Fennelly and Joey Stec) which takes the sunshine pop idea and hones it to perfection. Marked by the odd sound of the cuica, ‘To Claudia on Thursday’ proves (like much of Boettcher’s best work) that it was possible to take all of the core elements of the bubblegum sound and create something of sublime and lasting beauty. If you haven’t heard the entire ‘Begin’ LP, track down the reissue, slap on the headphones and take a trip to pop heaven.
Taking a stab at pop from a garage band standpoint is Texas’ Cast of Thousands with ‘My Jenny Wears a Mini’. Though the name Stevie Ray Vaughan has long been associated with this band, he does not appear on most of their records, reportedly only joining a reconstituted version of the group later in their career. ‘My Jenny Wears a Mini’ is a great slice of garage pop, with a beat group vibe passed through walls of cheap guitars and combo organ, not to mention the fact that they manage to sing an ode to miniskirts with what sounds like a straight face.
The Sundowners are in many ways the perfect 60s pop curiosity. They managed to make some very cool 45s, toured with the Monkees and managed to appear (in various forms) on both ‘It Takes a Thief’ and ‘The Flying Nun’ TV shows. ‘Sunny Day People’ is a bright, Beatle-esque bit of sunshine pop with a guitar breakdown in the middle of the song that could have been lifted off of any of the Fabs mid-period records.
Emitt Rhodes has been a big favorite of mine since I found a copy of his first solo LP back in the mid-80s. Starting with the Palace Guard, Rhodes moved on to the Merry Go Round, recording a couple of 45s and one amazing LP before breaking up and sending him on his way to a stellar solo career. ‘Time Will Show the Wiser’ (covered in the UK by Fairport Convention) is one of the band’s finest songs, mixing the purest Sunset Strip folk rock with just a dusting of onrushing psychedelia.
The Association is the perfect example of a band that had several big hits, yet only got the respect they deserved decades later, and even then only from hardcore fans of the sunshine pop sound. They made some amazing records (some with the assistance of – yes – Curt Boettcher) that took the sound of their biggest hits and expanded upon it. ‘Come On In’, the opening track of 1968s ‘Birthday’ album is a fave.
Returning to the garage side of things, we have the Kingsmen with their version of Don and the Goodtimes’ ‘Little Sally Tease’. Written by Jim ‘Harpo’ Valley when he was a member of D&TG’s (before he joined Paul Revere and the Raiders), the tune is a Pacific Northwest garage punk classic. Though I prefer the Standells thundering take on the tune, the Kingsmen lay into it with all of the spirit and competence of a suburban garage band and there’s no denying that this approach (even with the wholly unnecessary horn section) works in spades.
Speaking of Paul Revere and the Raiders, I’ve gone on record here saying that they were one of the truly underrated bands of the 60s. Like the Association, they had more than their share of chart success, but their critical embrace still hasn’t come to fruition. Their version of Jesse Lee Kincaid’s (of LA’s Rising Sons) ‘Louise’ (also recorded by Keith Allison over the same backing track) is a slammer. A perfect example of the Raiders ability to streamline/supercharge the garage punk sound – perhaps what any competent 60s punk band would sound like if they had Terry Melcher producing their records – ‘Louise’ is a classic.
The mysterious JK & Company are back again, with the very brief, but also very garagey ‘Crystal Ball’ from their sole White Whale LP. ‘Crystal Ball’ almost sounds like it was lifted from a party/psych-out scene in an AIP film.
“Blood Sweat and Tears?!?!?” you shout with alarm? Hold steady friend, because first of all, I dig BS&T, especially David Clayton Thomas’ Canuck soul brother thing, and the tune I bring you today sees the first big rock horn band laying into Traffic’s ‘Smiling Phases’. To be sure, their approach is significantly less flowery than the original, but – and I think this version inspired Woody Herman to record his own jazzed up take on the tune – I think it works, especially the jazzy little breakdown when the piano comes in.
I was lucky enough recently to finally get my hands on a copy of what I consider to be one of the truly great albums of the mid-60s, ‘Side Trips’ by the Kaleidoscope. As hard as it is to believe, that in the midst of the psychedelic era there were actually TWO bands named the Kaleidoscope (one in the US and one in the UK), they were – against all odds – both excellent in their own ways. This Kaleidoscope, the LA based group that featured David Lindley, made some of the most interesting music of the era, mixing folk rock and psychedelia with world music, bluegrass and jazz. ‘Pulsating Dream’ is one the purest examples of psych-pop in their catalog.
The New Zealand Trading Company appeared in the last edition of the Iron Leg Digital Trip with a number from the more psychedelic side of their sound. ‘Oh What a Day’ sees them channeling the Association, blended with a touch of UK psyche pop.
This edition of the Iron Leg Digital Trip closes out with a taste of what garage punk was like when it was transitioning into the Freak Flag sounds of Blue Cheer. The Rugbys hailed from Kentucky, and infused their pounding punk sound with overdriven (in every sense) guitar and vocals that would, like so many of their ilk, lay the ground for heavy metal.
I hope you dig the mix, and I’ll be back next week with some more groovy stuff.

Peace
Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for a new funk 45 mix.

PSS Check out Paperback Rider too…

IL Meets F16C #4 – Terry Reid – Stay With Me

Terry Reid (and the wrong side of the LP)

Listen -Terry Reid – Stay With Me Baby – MP3

Go to Funky16Corners to hear the version by Lorraine Ellison

Greetings all.

The end of another week approaches and although there’s s summery touch of humidity hanging in the air the sun is still as elusive as ever. I suppose I’m going to have to find a way to deal with this, but it’s still a drag.
Today sees another installment of the recurring features known as the Intersection of Funky16Corners and Iron Leg. The last time we did this, back in March of this year it was devoted to two versions (one soul, one rock) of the classic Ed Cobb tune ‘Every Little Bit Hurts’. This time out sees a similar juxtaposition with two different versions of a song from the catalog of one of the great geniuses of 60s soul, Mr. Jerry Ragavoy.
If the name is not familiar, get down into the crates and start checking the fine print on your record labels, since Ragavoy was the composer, arranger and producer of some of the finest soul records ever made, among them Erma Franklin’s ‘Piece of My Heart’, Howard Tate’s ‘Get It While You Can’ (a personal fave), Garnett Mimms’ ‘Cry Baby’, Irma Thomas’s ‘Time Is On My Side’ and today’s selection ‘Stay With Me (Baby)’ (the “baby” in parentheses since the song is billed with and without it).
The best known version of this song, by the mighty Lorraine Ellison (which you can hear over at Funky16Corners) is rightly regarded as a high point in the history of classic soul ballads. As the story goes, Ragavoy brought Ellison into the studio in early 1966 to take advantage of some orchestra time left over from a cancelled Frank Sinatra session.
Ellison’s recording, like so many of Ragavoy’s creations is a sublime mixture of gospel inflected soul with touches of R&B grit. The “build” of the song is much like that of ‘Cry Baby’, with a slow, drawn out verse building into a dynamic, nearly overpowering chorus. The lyrics are a heartbreaking plea to repair a shattered love and Ellison’s delivery, especially during the chorus where she soars into the stratosphere (vocally and emotionally) is brilliant.
It wasn’t that long ago when I was digging down south during a DJ trip and I uncovered a copy of Terry Reid’s 1969 self titled LP. Reid was a UK rock wunderkind of sorts (making his first record at 15) , highly regarded in his homeland, known amongst the heads stateside, but never really breaking through in a big way. He is best known as having reportedly turned down the chance to front both Led Zeppelin (the original) and Deep Purple (replacing Rod Evans). He recorded a number of LPs in the late 60s under the aegis of popmeister Mickie Most, the finest of which was the aforementioned ‘Terry Reid’.
Reid was possessed of a raw tenor reminiscent of – yet more subtle than – Steve Marriot. Reid often worked in a stripped down, power-trio (with embellishments) format. While in the hands of others this was applied with the delicacy of a sledgehammer, Reid exercised a fair amount of taste and restraint, actually arranging his songs where other would have buried them in a stone wall of power chords.
Reid’s style was never better than in his own version of ‘Stay With Me Baby’ which is in its own way, every bit the epic that Ellison’s better known recording.
Opening with a spare drum and bass combo, followed by a crashing wave of Hammond organ, Reid opens the verse with his voice playing against the sparest of accompaniment, hi-hat and drum stick rapping against snare rim, bass and a barely audible, almost funereal organ in the background. He sings in a delicate, near-falsetto, only introducing the rasp into his voice as he escalates the volume going into the chorus. There are those who might see what I’m about to say as sacrilegious, but I’d be willing to say that Reid’s version of ‘Stay With Me Baby’ is every bit the emotional, dare I say soulful tour de force of Lorraine Ellison’s, and in some ways, thanks to the rough backing (stripped of the orchestral embellishment) exceeds it in some ways.
As much as I love Ellison (her ‘Call Me Any Time You Need Some Loving’ and ‘Try Just a Little Bit Harder’ are big faves of mine), I find myself returning to Reid’s version much more often. That said, both versions are worth hearing, and I hope you dig them.
If I can get my act together I may roll back in here on Monday with a new edition of the Iron Leg Digital Trip Podcast.
Until then, have a most excellent weekend, and I’ll see you all then.

Peace

Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for Lorraine Ellison’s version of ‘Stay With Me’ .

Springfield Rifle – The Bears

The Springfield Rifle(s)

Roger Perkins

The Royal Guardsmen

Quicksilver Messenger Service

Listen -Sprinfield Rifle – The Bears – MP3

Greetings all.

Here’s an odd one.
Fans of Pacific Northwest rock of the 60s will be familiar with the Springfield Rifle.
Rising from the ashes of Jimmy Hannah and the Dynamics (who recorded some great 45s, including a tasty cover of Eddie Holland’s ‘Leaving Here’) the Springfield Rifle went to compile a failry large discography including a number of 45s for Burdette and Jerden, at least one LP for the former, and today’s selection which was released by ABC in 1966 (for some reason billing the group as the ‘Springfield Rifles’).
The tune, ‘The Bears’ is a vaguely creepy number with insane lyrics about stepping on bears (really) with a garage leaning into the early wave of psyche (lyrically anyway) vibe.
So, I set out to dig up some info on the 45 and I discover that the composers of the song (as credited on the Springfield Rifle 45) were not in fact members of the band. I hit a couple of my reliable info sources and discover that the same song was recorded by the Royal Guardsmen and the Quicksilver Messenger Service, both credited to Roger Perkins*. I dug a little more and found out that Roger Perkins was a San Fran Bay area singer and guitarist who was a presence in the early days of the folk rock scene, having gigged with a number of big names including the Jefferson Airplane’s Jorma Kaukonen, and David Freiberg of the Quicksilver Messenger Service (who credited Perkins with introducing him to the song).
Here’s the big question: Quicksilver, the group with a direct link to Roger Perkins didn’t record ‘The Bears’ until 1968, on the b-side of a 45 (it did not appear on any QMS albums). Both Springfield Rifle and the Royal Guardsmen recorded the song in 1966. 
The Springfield Rifle version is credited to Daniel Moore, Don Paulian and Jeff Thomas. Moore a songwriter/producer who wrote a number of hits (among them ‘Shambala’ for Three Dog Night) recorded ‘The Bears’ with an LA group called the Fastest Group Alive in 1966.
The fact that Moore, Paulin and Thomas are credited on the Springfield Rifle 45, and Perkins is credited on the Quicksilver and Royal Guardsmen records suggests to me that the song may have come from a traditional/folk source and was adapted separately by Perkins and Moore et al. A biography I found of Daniel Moore mentions that he spent a few years working the coffeehouse circuit as a folk singer in the early 60s, so it’s entirely possible he and Perkins heard the same source material.
Hmmmm….
Anyone know for sure?
Let me know.

Peace

Larry

 NOTE: Make sure to follow Iron Leg on Facebook by clicking on the link on the top left part of the sidebar. 

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for another funky 45.

Arthur Lee & Love – 7 and 7 Is

Arthur Lee, alone again…

Listen -Arthur Lee & Love – 7 and 7 Is – MP3

Greetings all.

Is everyone ready for the weekend?
I’m sitting here in NJ lulled into somnolence by a week of unending cloud cover, unseasonably low temperatures and finally, today, a veritable deluge. If the mailman is bringing me some records today, he’d better not let them get wet or I just might crack up.
In an attempt to get things back on course I figured I pull one of the big guns out of the arsenal, a record so powerful, so undeniable in its punk fury, that any befogged brain would be returned to working order immediately.
The record in question is an early 45 by my all time favorite 60s band, Arthur Lee and Love.
The song in question: “7 and 7 Is”.
Here’s what I said about it in an obit I wrote when Lee passed in 2006:

“The first Love record I actually owned was a Rhino ‘Best Of’ that came out in 1980. Though that record contained the song that would become my favorite – ‘Your Mind and We Belong Together’ – the tune that blew my mind wide open from the first listen was ‘7 and 7 Is’.
Though Love had (and has) been unfairly lumped in with the Nuggets crowd, due to the ‘one hit wonder’-ism of ‘My Little Red Book’, their punkiest record met, and transcended the greasy teenage swagger of 6T’s punk in a way that even today is hard to comprehend.
Packing more energy into its two minutes and nineteen seconds than some bands are able to produce in entire careers, ‘7 and 7 Is’ is as raw and savage a statement (if perhaps lyrically obtuse in a way not at all atypical for its time) as rock music has ever seen, and ending it with a sound-effects record explosion – a notion that might have damned a lesser record to an oblivion of novelty – seems today not only acceptable, but an absolutely necessary bit of punctuation.”

‘7 and 7 Is’ is what the current phrase factory would term a ‘game changer’. Once you’ve heard it, nothing before or after will sound quite the same. It puts most of what has passed for punk rock in the last four decades to shame, revealing it as gutless posing. I don’t know what was going through Arthur Lee’s mind when he wrote the song, but when he entered the studio with Love to record it, he was clearly gunning for bear. It is at once uncompromising, direct, brutal and revealing (while simultaneously completely opaque) and one of those records that sounds as if its grooves can barely contain the power within.
If you already know it, employ its many wonders as a mental palate cleanser of sorts. If you do not, brace yourself and get back to me when you recover.
I’m going outside to shake my fist at the sky.

Peace

Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for some vintage Japanese funk.

The Soft Machine – A Certain Kind

The Soft Machine (Hugh Hopper at left)

Listen -The Soft Machine – A Certan Kind- MP3

Greetings all.

I hope everyone had a most excellent weekend.
The tune I bring you today has been sitting in the reserve file for a while. Unfortunately, the news last week that Hugh Hopper of the Soft Machine had passed away compelled me to dig it out and post it herein.
Oddly enough, though my affinity for the Soft Machine these days runs toward their early Canterbury psychedelia, the very first time I heard the band was another story entirely. As mentioned in this space previously, as a lad I used to haunt the only local record store, Music Den at the local “mall”. Aside from the fact that Music Den was in most ways typical of a chain record store, i.e. heavily stocked with the hits of the day on LP, cassette and 8-track, they also had a huge selection of what used to be called ‘cut outs’, those being records returned to the distributor as unsold, then sent back out into the world with a gouge in the cover to be sold at a discount price.
An enterprising soul could stroll into Music Den with a fiver in your hand and leave with three or four albums. It was on one such occasion that I purchased the album ‘Soft Machine Seven’.
Displaying sinister black and white photos of the band on the cover, ‘Seven’ was a powerhouse of early 70s prog cum fusion that warped my still largely unformed mind for some time, at one point forming a short-lived group (keyboards, bass, drums) based largely on the sound of the very record.
It was a decade later before I was turned on to the original sounds of the Soft Machine.
The tune I bring you today is from their very first album (‘Volume One’), and just happens to have been written by the late Mr. Hopper, though as far as I can tell he had yet to join the band*.
‘A Certain Kind’ is a fine bit of mid-to-late 60s, vaguely soulful Brit progressive sounds.. All you really hear for most of the song is a funereal organ and bass, along with the vocal by Robert Wyatt, joined mid-song by his jazz-inflected drumming. The overall effect is like a considerably less overwrought Procol Harum (a band I dig, but listen to ‘Whiter Shade of Pale’ and I think you’ll see what I mean).
I hope you dig the tune, and remember Hugh Hopper.

Peace

Larry

*Hopper was composing for the Soft Machine as early as 1967 but did not record as a member of the band until 1969. Hopper had been a member of early Canterbury groups the Daevid Allen Trio and Wilde Flowers

 

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for a funky 45.

The Neighborhood – You Could Be Born Again

The Neighborhood

Listen -The Neighborhood – You Could Be Born Again – MP3

Listen -Free Design – You Could Be Born Again – MP3

Greetings all.

As promised I’d like to close out the week with something Free Design-related.
Some years back, while out digging (at a record show, I think) I happened upon a 45 by a group I’d never heard of (the Neighborhood) , performing a song with a title that was vaguely familiar. It was only when I scanned the label closely that my interest was piqued.
The song in question ‘You Could Be Born Again’ was written by Chris Dedrick, one of the members of, and the main songwriter for the Free Design. I considered the Free Design to be so obscure I was shocked that anyone else had recorded their material*, so – since the record was 25 cents – I put it in the keeper stack and took it home. I never was able to track down any information about the Neighborhood.
Flash forward a few years, and I’m getting my fingers dirty digging at one of the Asbury Lanes record swaps and what do I find but an entire LP by the Neighborhood. Entitled ’Debut’, it was the first LP to be released on the then new Big Tree label (also home to a wild mix of artists including Dave and Ansil Collins, Lobo, Steeleye Span and the Sugar Bears).
Looking at the LP (the centerfold of which I photographed, above) the Neighborhood was a nine-piece, soft-rock ensemble. The LP is composed largely of cover material – Laura Nyro, Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Hair soundtrack, Simon and Garfunkel), all recorded in what was unfortunately a lackluster, poorly produced fashion, rendering what could have been a very interesting find merely a curiosity.
The Free Design cover is the most curious of all, being a non-LP b-side to the single release of ‘Big Yellow Taxi’, which was a (very) minor hit. The Neighborhood version is interesting, but ultimately can’t hold a candle to the original (which I’ve included above). The Neighborhood’s singing is pretty good, but the instrumental backing is a little on the loose side and the arrangement lacking the imagination and precision of the original.
I hope you dig it (or at least find it interesting), and I’ll be back on Monday.

Peace

Larry

 

**The Free Design had their songs covered by Fred Waring’s Young Pennsylvanians (Thanks Porky!) and as mentioned in Monday’s post, guitarist Tony Mottola.

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for a funky 45.

The Free Design – Kites are Fun

Free Design

Listen -Free Design – Kites are Fun – MP3

Greetings all.

I want to start things off by saying a hearty “Thank you!” to everyone that donated during the Funky16Corners/Iron Leg 2009 Pledge Drive. Once again the nut – as they say- has been covered, and things (at least as far as interwebs storage/bandwidth is concerned) will remain up and running for another year.
The tune I bring you today has been sitting in my “to be blogged” folder for a while, waiting for just the right time to be posted. A few weeks ago a reader wrote asking if I would ever post said song, and since it was burning a hole in my hard drive, I took the request as a sign, said yes, and here we are.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, there was once a time where my taste for the twee side of pop was, for lack of a better term, undeveloped. If you had played a Free Design (or Curt Boettcher) track for my long-haired, Led Zeppelin listening to self, I would have choked on the sugar and perhaps beaten you soundly (though in that same period I was often stoned and sluggish, so you probably would have gotten beyond my grasp without much effort).
When I look back on it, this seems odd because the band that got my head into music in the first place was the hookiest of all, that being the Beatles. My sensibilities have always been hooks and harmony attuned, but like any youngster (which believe it or not I once was) I had a head full of roadblocks that only time and tide would erode. Now that I am at an age my 18 year old self would likely consider my dotage (I’m 46), many of those walls have been torn down, some by myself, some by the urging of others and some all by themselves.
If memory serves I first found my way to the Free Design via the mid-90s Japanese fascination with them and their sweet sounding ilk, via the pricey reissues put out by Cornelius, and the homage by groups like Pizzicato Five. At some point I got my hands on the compilation by Varese Sarabande, and my mind was, in short order, good and truly blown.
It’s only in the last few years that I finally acquired some OG Free Design vinyl (there are still a couple of albums I’m looking for) and I was pleasantly surprised that much of the material that I hadn’t heard yet was up to the standards of the ‘greastest hits’.
Like many of the groups I would group with the Free Design, like Sagittarius, the Millennium, early Paul Williams (all faves, and barely scratching the surface of the genre), I would hesitate to push them on anyone that wasn’t already somewhat attuned to the sound. The digestion of this kind of music requires a certain amount of context and preparation for proper appreciation. Where the Curt Boettcher sound is based in a conventional pop/rock setting, the Free Design drew from Now Sound and sophisticated harmony singing like the Hi-Los and the Swingle Singers before touching on rock tangentially, sounding like a high school swing choir led by a pop visionary. Though their arrangements were often dense with ideas, and the backing tight and energetic, at first listen some of their recordings sound like so much candy floss.
There were times when I was first exposed to the group where the music seemed to radiate earnestness that at times struck me as a put on. However, repeat listening, especially to the right songs, reveals that the group really had a lot going on.
Formed in the mid-60s by the Dedrick siblings (Chris, Bruce, Sandy, Ellen and Stefanie) the members of the Free Design came from a musical family. Their seven albums (most of which were released on Enoch Light’s Project 3 imprint) were a mixture of brilliant original material and interesting covers (Bacharach/David, Turtles), all delivered with the group’s intricate harmonies and backing from the same group of crack session players that recorded for Enoch Light’s other projects.
The tune I bring you today is the title track from their first LP, 1967’s ‘Kites are Fun’. An ode to the pure, childlike pleasure of kite flying – something that would have been assumed to have lysergic roots in other hands – ‘Kites are Fun’ features cascading, madrigal-like harmonies and a relatively spare backing (bass, tambourine, acoustic guitar and recorder), and lyrics that defy any attempt at interpretation on anything but face value. No one was going to hear ‘Kites are Fun’ and jump to conclusions that what the Free Design were blending their heavenly voices about was a euphemism for anything stronger that a little exercise in a windy field*.
That vibe is one of the things I dig so much about the Free Design. Like the narrator in ‘Bubbles’ (featured in Iron Leg Digital Trip #18), the person singing about kites is undeniably a kid. This may be hard for someone from 2009 to understand, but Free Design were operating in an irony-free zone. This is not music delivered with a wink and a knowing smile. To paraphrase a then popular phrase, with Free Design, what you hear is what you get.
If you get a chance to scan their entire catalog, it is clear that they were capable of delivering more adult themes – they did a wonderful version of one of my fave Bacharach songs ‘Windows of the World’ – and despite the childlike subject matter, the music of Free Design was nothing if not sophisticated. If I ever get my hands on the rest of their records, I may have to do an all Free Design edition of the Iron Leg Digital Trip.
I hope you dig the tune, and I’ll be back later in the week with something Free Design-related.

Peace

Larry

 

*Keeping things kid, on an episode of the very groovy ‘Yo Gabba Gabba’ I was surprised to hear a cover (with a short, animated video) of ‘Kites are Fun’ as performed by the Parallelograms. Back in the 60s the song was covered by another Project 3 artist, guitarist Tony Mottola.

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for a new guest mix.

Funky16Corners/Iron Leg 2009 Pledge Drive b/w ILDT#5 Reprise

Greetings all.
I was originally going to post something new (old) today, but I changed my mind and decided to tie into the Funky16Corners 2009 Pledge Drive by re-posting what is by any measure my favorite mix from the Iron Leg Digital Trip Podcast Archive, ILDT#5 – The Party.
I didn’t link the two last year, but since both blogs originate in the same sick mind (that would be mine), and have all of their files, mixes etc stored in the same space, I figured that the cause was the same.
If you are so inclined, and can afford to in these dire times, take a second and send along a contribution (any amount) for the Funky16Corners 2009 Pledge Drive. This will help to pay for the server space wherein both blogs, as well as the Funky16Corners web zine reside on the interwebs.
So, as they say on PBS, pardon the interruption, give what you can – by clicking on the link below –  and we will return you to your regularly scheduled programming next Monday.
Thanks
Larry

Click Here To Donate via Paypal

Listen/Download 46MB Mixed MP3 – MP3

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Playlist

1 Henry Mancini (The Party OST) – The Party (vocal) (RCA)
2 Keith Mansfield – Boogaloo (CBS)
3 Enoch Light – Over Under Sideways Down (Project 3)
4 Moe Koffman – Dr Swahili (Jubilee)
5 Mr Jamo – Shake What You Brought With You Pt1 (SSS Intl)
6 Dick Hyman – The Liquidators (Command)
7 Walter Wanderley – Kee Ka Roo (Verve)
8 Sweet Charity OST – The Pompeii Club (Rich Man’s Frug) (Decca)
9 John Philip Soul & his Stone Marching Band – That Memphis Thing (Pepper)
10 Andre Brasseur – The Duck (Palette)
11 Tony Newman – Soul Thing (Parrot)
12 Jimmy Caravan – Look Into the Flower (Vault)
13 Vic Mizzy (Don’t Make Waves OST) – Vox Box (MGM)
14 New London Rhythm & Blues Band – Soul Stream (Vocalion)
15 Dave Grusin (Candy OST) – Ascension to Virginity (ABC)
16 Henry Mancini (the Party OST) – The Party (instr) (RCA)

Greetings all.
The podcast I bring you today – Iron Leg Digital Trip #5 – is something that has been a kind of running project of mine for a long, long time.
I have been fairly obsessed with the sounds of the 1960’s since – believe it or not – the actual 1960’s, a decade that departed a few months after my seventh birthday. While there’s certainly an element of what might be termed retroactive nostalgia (longing for things I vaguely remember but was far too young and context-free to appreciate in any real way) at work through my many years of pop culture absorption and regurgitation (via zines/blogs), I like to think that those of us who make note of this period of pop culture – and there are many far more obsessive and devoted to minutiae than I – are engaging in an interesting experiment of postmodernism.
Back in the day, when I was deeply involved in the garage/mod revival scene, there were very few among us who had experienced the music we all loved firsthand. In 1986 I was 24, and even then at the high end of the age scale for that crowd. Sure there were a few folks who had been old enough to have bought their Chocolate Watchband 45s off the shelf, but not many.
Though there were those that went beyond mere collecting to track down and interview the people that made the music, the vast majority of us were consumers of a lifestyle that we connected to via old records and bootleg video, less recreating than recasting the mid-60’s, patching together a quilt of sorts made from mod clothing, hairstyles, music and films. What we were doing – though we would have been loathe to admit it at the time (and some even today) – was play-acting at 1966-ism through an American International Pictures prism in what amounted to a Vietnam-free vacuum in the middle of the blissfully idiotic Reagan years.
I mention all of this because the roots of this podcast reach back to those years, when my own fascination with the era began to get a grasp on certain small micro-zeitgeists within the larger picture, i.e. biker films, spy movies, garage punk and psychedelia.
The heart beating at the center of ‘The Party’ is in fact a film called – not surprisingly – ‘The Party’.
If you haven’t seen it, go out and find it, because while it may not be a particularly good film (using generally accepted criteria of quality cinema), it is an amazing artifact, offering up within its frames something akin to the magnetic center of a long gone, but amazing vibe.
My good buddy Voger and I have – over the 20+ years we’ve known each other – had a recurring discussion about a certain kind of Hollywood product, in which a warped conception of the “hip” world was created by middle-aged, cigar chomping suits and thrown up on the screen for popular consumption. The end result of this was the worlds of youth culture, the international jet set and rock music intersecting where cultural icons (starting with beatniks and ending with hippies) continued to appear years after their real world counterparts had moved on. The product generated was utterly without authenticity, but in a strange way incredibly compelling. What was created was a kind of cultural shorthand that 20 years hence would set our synapses firing wildly.
The kinds of movies I’m talking about range from things that were clearly aimed at kids – i.e. ‘Riot On the Sunset Strip’ – slightly more sophisticated (yet no closer to the mark) fare like ‘The Sweet Ride’, and completely insane creations like ‘How To Commit Marriage’ (Bob Hope in a Nehru jacket and sideburns) and the ne plus ultra of these relics, ‘Skidoo’.
All of these films (and hundreds more) had one connecting thread, that being an attempt to capture the “Swinging 60’s” from various levels of exploitation and with widely varying levels of success.
Where this all came together – at least for me – was my generation, obsessed with the 60’s devouring these bits and pieces of artifice like so many handfuls of candy, i.e. pop culture as so many empty calories, guaranteed to provide a momentary boost but essentially without nourishment.
‘The Party’ sees Peter Sellers engaging in a bit of South Asian minstrelsy that would be all but unforgivable today, but which in 1968 was just another dash of international seasoning in Blake Edwards cinematic stew. There’s no doubt in my mind that Sellers character ‘Hurundi V Bakshi’ was a proxy for the cultural fascination with the Indian subcontinent, sitars, gurus and the spiritual tourism of the Beatles. Bakshi is accidentally invited to a Hollywood party, thrown by a producer whose latest film he (Bakshi) is responsible for wrecking.
The film is little more than an extended string of fish out of water gags and broad physical comedy which is in the end only slightly amusing.
However (and this is a big however kids), the soundtrack, composed by the genius Henry Mancini features a title song that seems built from all of the elements I’ve been talking about. Mancini’s tune ‘The Party’ is a Hollywood establishment version of rock music, wrapped tightly in an electric sitar riff. What you end up getting with ‘The Party’ is the distillation of a mid-decade discotheque vibe where studio “straights” were gathering – magpie like – shiny bits of pop music ephemera and reassembling them into a strange approximation of the real thing, where walls of brass butt up against sitars, cheesy combo organs and pounding drums to create the pulsing soundtrack to an imaginary discotheque where aging swells in crushed velvet dinner jackets and frilled shirts are doing the frug with heavily made up dolly birds (or almost any episode of Playboy After Dark featuring a rock band).
The motif of the discotheque scene, in movies and television became a visual shorthand for all things “swinging ‘60s”, even long after the international jet set dance floor had been surpassed in the public consciousness by images of muddy fields filled with bare-chested longhairs (though, once again Hollywood continued to use these scenes long past when they had peaked in the real world).
Iron Leg Digital Trip #5: The Party was a work in progress years before Iron Leg the blog ever got started. Beginning with Mancini’s ‘The Party’ as a hub of sorts, I kept my eyes out and my ears peeled for records that could radiate from it providing complementary sounds. Certainly, not all of the records in this mix fit the definition above, at least in the sense of their individual creation. While some of the selections herein come from that mainstream Hollywood machine, there are also contributions from the “Easy” side of things, as well as jazz, funk, soul, library music and rock.
I should mention that when I was getting ready to put the mix together the specter of ‘Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In’ loomed large. ‘Laugh-In’ was really the ultimate distillation of the leitmotifs above (again in a largely artificial, Hollywood-ized way). On ‘Laugh-In’ two nightclub comedians presented a wide range of ‘hip” archetypes (in the regular cast, and the guests) week after week in what amounted to a psychedelic (looking) vaudeville.
‘Laugh-In’ mixed traditional comedy with topical and vaguely outrageous (for the time) material presented in a fast moving, colorful format, that while fairly far removed from actual hip culture, presented a passable simulacrum thereof for the millions of straights watching at home. Though I remember enjoying the few episodes I was able to watch at the time (it was on from when I was 6 to when I was 11) looking back on the show today it seems not only horribly dated, but also the kind of thing no self-respecting member of the counterculture would ever have given a moment of their attention. When I think of ‘Laugh-In’s relation to the counterculture, the image that comes to mind is of something like the Bob Hope of ‘How To Commit Marriage’, i.e. the establishment taking some time out to slum amongst the unwashed hordes, if not actually exploiting hip culture, coming awfully close.
So crucial is ‘Laugh-In’ to the vibe I’m trying to nail down, that I decided to use excerpts from the show (all taken in fact from a single four-minute track on a 1969 ‘Laugh In’ LP) as the “connective tissue” in the mix. In it you get to hear cast members who went on to become the establishment (like Goldie Hawn) and others who are remembered solely as relics of a bygone era (Arte Johnson anyone?).
Either way, if you’ve seen the show, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, it has been re-released on DVD and is definitely worth a viewing.
The mix itself begins and ends with two versions of the theme from ‘The Party’ (vocal and instrumental). The musicians on the track are a who’s who of West Coast session musicians/jazzbos, with the vocals credited to the “Party Poopers’. Some years ago the Wondermints recorded an outstanding cover of ‘The Party’ for a Mancini tribute LP.
Next up is Keith Mansfield’s rare US 45 of his track ‘Boogaloo’ (also included on his 1968 LP “All You Need is Keith Mansfield’). I picked up this 45 years ago (at what turned out to be a bargain price) sight unheard (as it were) and was blown away when I finally put it on the turntable. Of all the tracks in this mix, ‘Boogaloo’ is probably the one where you can close your eyes and really “feel” what it is I’m talking about. Vaguely funky, featuring an interesting array of percussion and (what I believe to be) the Hammond stylings of none other than the legendary Alan Hawkshaw (the man behind the Mohawks). Mansfield manages – like Mancini – to mix a rock rhythm section with a highly polished backing of horns and woodwinds.
Enoch Light’s version of the Yardbirds’ ‘Over Under Sideways Down’ is really a perfect example (maybe more so than any other track in the mix) of the sounds of youth culture being put through the Cuisinart by a pack of straights. This is not to say that Light was incapable of capturing a sort of funhouse mirror vision of the hip world, but that hearing the fuzzed out psych of the Yardbirds reshaped thusly is a fairly jarring experience. This in addition to the fact that Light was (via his Command and Project 3 labels) a sonic pioneer of sorts, experimenting with recording formats (like going directly to 35MM film) and unusual material.
Moe Koffman is an interesting guy. Hardly a “straight” Koffman got his start as a popularizer of jazz sounds (‘The Swinging Shepherd’s Blues’) and made some very groovy albums in the 60’s and 70’s. ‘Dr. Swahili’ was on his 1966 LP “Moe Koffman Goes Electric’, and features both electrified flute (Koffman’s main instrument) and electric sitar.
Mr. Jamo was another incarnation of the Bahamian singer Jamo Thomas who made some ace soul records for Chicago’s Thomas label in the 60’s (‘I Spy For the FBI’ among others). What happened to him between ‘I Spy’ in 1966, and ‘Shake What You Bought With You’ in 1970 is a mystery, but by the sound of the latter record, it may have involved a drop or two of Mr. Owsley’s finest. In my many years of collecting and listening to music, few 45s have hit me the way this did the first time I heard it. ‘Shake What You Brought With You’ is a bizarre (and amazing) mix of styles that comes very close to being a humorous and somewhat more lighthearted cousin of the soundtracks of Manfred Huber and Siegfried Schwab. There are bits of funk, soul and psychedelia bouncing around in the mix, all woven together with Jamo’s insane vocals. I mean,

‘BAYGODAH! BAYGODAH!’.

What’s that supposed to mean? Is it a strange, inspired one off, or is ‘Shake What You Brought With You’ the mysterious Rosetta Stone that links together Jamaican toasting, the sounds of Disco Tex and rap? In the end it matters not a whit. It’s just brilliant.
Dick Hyman has been featured in this space before, and if ‘The Liquidators’ is any indication; he will be in the future as well. Recorded for the Command label (Hyman would record several LPs as leader and sideman for Command) and appearing on the excellent ‘Man from O.R.G.A.N.’ LP, ‘Liquidators’ was written by Lalo Schifrin (no slouch he). It’s typical of Hyman’s Command recordings in that his jazzy style rises above the high gloss (it helps that any of his sidemen were veteran jazzmen as well).
Brazilian organist Walter Wanderley is best known for his 1966 hit ‘Summer Samba’, a key part of the 1960’s lounge/easy canon. Wanderley recorded for a wide variety of labels in Brazil and the US, but he is remembered mainly for his work for Verve. I was first turned on to ‘Kee Ka Roo’ by my old buddy Haim (a man responsible for countless such acts) who eventually passed on to me my copy of the album of the same name. The tune (which incidentally features playing by Bucky Pizzarelli and Bobby Rosengarden, two compadres of Dick Hyman’s) is a great combination of upbeat, jetset lounge and Brazilian flavor, sounding like it came from some Amazon spy caper.
My initial interest in the movie ‘Sweet Charity’ was in its status as a remake of Fellini’s ‘Nights of Cabiria’. As it turned out, the movie was a great time capsule of the late 60’s, very colorful and with some cool incidental music on the soundtrack (not to mention a very groovy turn by none other than Sammy Davis Jr.). The coolest bit is ‘The Pompeii Club (Rich Man’s Frug)’ which clocks in at just under two minutes of fuzz guitar and horns.
Despite some research, I’ve never been able to nail down exactly who ‘John Phillip Soul and his Stone Marching Band’ were. They most definitely hailed from Memphis (aside from the title of the tune ‘That Memphis Thing’ Pepper was a Memphis based label) but aside from that anything I offer you is no more than an educated guess. That said, my educated guess is that this is probably a grouping of studio players, perhaps the American Studios crew. Aside from the goofy (and likely pseudonymous) band name, there’s also the big, BIG production, which doesn’t sound at all like the work of an anonymous, one-off crew. I wish I had more details, as the tune opens with a sweet drum break, and the organist is a killer.
Belgian organist Andre Brasseur had a long career in Europe, but only glanced the US charts with ‘The Kid’ in 1966. ‘The Duck’ – a record you won’t soon forget – dates from 1968. His discography is an interesting mix of exciting, Mod-ish Hammond grooves and somewhat weaker novelties, but as you’ll hear with ‘The Duck’, when Brasseur was on, he was ON. Each and every time I spin this tune in a club, without fail someone comes up and has to know what this song is. Unfortunately it’s a pretty scarce record to turn up, especially on 45.
We return to the sounds of Keith Mansfield (indirectly) with drummer Tony Newman’s cover of ‘Soul Thing’. The original version of ‘Soul Thing’ appeared (as a piano feature with a very sweet drum break) on the ‘All You Need Is Keith Mansfield’ LP. Newman’s cover features Alan Hawkshaw on the Hammond, and give the tune a much more muscular, dare I say funky vibe. This is the version I remember hearing as a kid, used behind a PSA on local New York TV, and (as it was used in Tarantino’s ‘Kill Bill’) as incidental music during coming attractions in the movies, betraying its roots as a bit of ‘library’ music.
Jimmy Caravan (who’s made a couple of appearances in Hammond mixes over at Funky16Corners) recorded two very cool albums in the late 60’s for the Vault and Tower labels. The Vault LP, ‘Hey Jude’ has a lot more to offer for funk fans. The Tower LP ‘Look Into the Flower’ is composed largely of then current pop and rock covers. One of the few originals, the title cut has a very cool au-go-go flavor with some excellent playing by Caravan. Oddly enough, one of the few other things Caravan ever did was play keyboards on Captain Beefheart’s 1974 ‘Bluejeans and Moonbeams’ album.
If the name Vic Mizzy isn’t ringing any bells, his music ought to. During the 1960’s Mizzy was one of the busiest composers of soundtrack music, with a very distinctive style. Mizzy is responsible for the music to ‘The Addams Family’, ‘Green Acres’ as well as a string of Don Knotts films (‘The Ghost and Mr. Chicken’, ‘The Reluctant Astronaut’ etc.) . Mizzy had a great, lighthearted sound with a humorous edge, often accented with elements like harpsichord and chromatic harmonica. ‘Vox Box’ is from the soundtrack to the 1967 film ‘Don’t Make Waves’ remembered mainly for its inclusion of an otherwise unreleased Byrds song.
The New London Rhythm & Blues Band is another one of those great mysteries I’d like to get to the bottom of. I picked up the album years ago (pre-portable) because there were some interesting cover songs. Imagine my surprise when I get the record home and it turns out to have some slamming Hammond sounds. My assumption has always been that this album has its roots in the UK library scene, but I can’t say for sure. What I do know is that the record (with a few minor variations, like the group name) was repackaged and released in a number of countries. Either way, ‘Soul Stream’ is amazing.
The film of Terry Southern’s ‘Candy’ is mainly remembered as a star-heavy relic of a bygone age, but if it has anything going for it, it would have to be the track ‘Ascension to Virginity’. Composed by Dave Grusin, the tune opens with (and repeats) a heavy breakbeat, the tune only gets better with ringing guitars, hand claps and odd (but engaging) female vocals. I have no idea who’s playing on this, but both the drums and guitar are outstanding. ‘Ascension to Virginity’ clocks in at around the five minute mark, but you’d never know it.
Things come to a close with the instrumental reprise of ‘The Party’, opening –not surprisingly – with a short sitar interlude before returning to the original theme.
That said, I hope you dig this little experiment of mine. Give it a listen (or two) and maybe throw it on the next time you throw a wingding of your own.

Peace
Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for a brand new, slamming soul mix for the Pledge Drive!

John Barry – A Man Alone (Jazz Version)

John Barry

Listen -John Barry – A Man Alone (Jazz Version) – MP3

Greetings all.

I hope all is well with you this fine Friday (or Thursday late depending what position you hold on the globe).
The tune I bring you today is something groovy with a dash of international intrigue.
A variation on the theme from the ‘Ipcress File’ (a different arrangement of the same number appears on the other side of the 45) ‘A Man Alone (Jazz Version)’ is one of my favorite John Barry selections. Barry, who has been featured here before (in his pre-soundtrack era) composed and performed the soundtracks to countless films and television shows from the early 60s on.
‘The Ipcress File’ was the very first ‘Harry Palmer’ film for the mighty Michael Caine and was adapted from the novel of the same name by Len Deighton. The 1965 espionage thriller is a primed example of a swinging 60s take on the ongoing cold war, and Caine is – as always – the very epitome of dry, limey cool.
‘A Man Alone (Jazz Version)’ swings along aggressively with a beatnik edged hi-hat and bongo pulse, before the main theme is stated by the unofficial spy theme instrument of record, the cymbalum (or some variation on the cymbalum/santoor dulcimer-esque hammered thingy), which carried in its tinny strings the very essence of mysterious international intrigue, with the fezzes, lugers, dark Eurasian back alleys and trench coats.
Barry does change things up a little (the “jazz version” one would assume) with a decidedly English-sounding horn chart, featuring a just-this-side-of-incongruous alto sax (maybe doubling a muted trumpet?) solo.
Sit back, close your eyes and visualize Caine speeding down a dark, rain-slicked street chasing (or being chased by) nemeses from behind the Iron Curtain.
Groovy indeed.
I haven’t seen the movie in a few years, and I can’t remember if this piece actually appears in the film. If you know (this means you Bill…), drop me a line.
In other news, this coming Monday will mark the third annual Funky16Corners Pledge Drive, in which yours truly comes to you in search of donations to keep the blogs (and the server space where all of the sound files and both podcast archives reside) up and running for another year. I’ll make sure I go into further depth on Monday, along with Paypal links.
Have a great weekend and I’ll see you soon.

Peace

Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for some wailing Chicago funk.

NJ/Delaware Garage Explosion aka Forward Into the Past

Listen – The Enfields -In the Eyes of the World – MP3

Greetings all.

I hope everyone had a most excellent weekend.
I know I did, heading down to the World Famous Asbury Lanes to see my brother (CJ Grogan) play on the same bill as my old friends Mod Fun. It was a reunion of sorts, with several 80s garage/mod musicians (members of Mod Fun, Phantom Five, Lord John, Tiny Lights) and scenesters getting together – many for the first time in two decades – including all surviving members of my own band the Phantom Five.

The Phantom Five: Larry Grogan, CJ Grogan, John Rahmer, Bill Luther, Vince Grogan

Yours truly got up on stage with my old bandmates (with Chris Collins of Mod Fun on drums) for a reprise of our old fave ‘She’s Not’, which was a gas. I think I’m years past wanting to play in a band on a regular basis. This is a fantastic indicator of how time does indeed fly, since I can remember a time when that was all I wanted to do (a period that lasted almost fifteen years). Ex-Phantom Five rhythm guitarist Bill Luther was kind enough to film the performance, and post it on YouTube.

The old(er) school tune I bring you today is one of the mellower sides by the legendary Delaware garage band the Enfields.
Back in the day the always groovy Get Hip label released a compilation of all of the Enfields’ 45s, as well as a number of tunes by band leader Ted Munda’s later band the Friends of the Family. Unlike many such releases – wherein the obscurity/rarity often outweighs the musical quality – the Enfields comp was a revelation, exposing to many for the first time a really talented group that never broke out of their regional scene. If you haven’t heard it, and can still find a copy I recommend it highly, especially for tunes like ‘Face to Face’ and ‘Time Card’.
Today’s selection is the tune ‘In the Eyes of the World’, which has the vibe of a classic garage folk ballad. I dig the ringing guitars, and the haunting melody.
I hope you do to, and I’ll back later in the week with something groovy

Peace

Larry

PS Head over to Funky16Corners for some sweet soul by Curtis Mayfield.