Category: 1975-1979

“Starry Eyes” (1979) – The Records

“Starry Eyes” (1979) – The Records * Written by John Wicks and Will Birch * Produced by Dennis Weinreich and Will Birch * 45: “Starry Eyes”/ “Paint Her Face” * Label: Virgin * Charts: Billboard Hot 100 (#56)

For the most part, “Starry Eyes,” the candy-flavored record by England’s Records, deserves its place as an all time power pop short-lister. It had the right kind of title, the right kind of instrumentation, and the right kind of structure (an opening octave-guitar refrain that returns happily as a middle eight). It also has historical credentials with its #56 Billboard chart position and verified presence as a transistor jangler during the late years of AM hit radio. Where it doesn’t check the right box is in lyrical content. It’s a record about the virtues of hard work and a dis on their manager, who hangs out in the hotel pool while they handle business in the conference rooms. “Get me out of your starry eyes and be on your way,” they sing, but so uplifting is the music that the average undemanding listener likely assumes all the words have romantic connotations. (Even in their romantic songs, after all, the Records always did come across as smarter than the rest.) The 45 version that became a hit in the US had a more jagged guitar sound than the UK LP (Shades in Bed) version, to which producer Snuff Garrett also added unnecessary pacing tweaks. (Lending value to the single is a non-album flipside with its own guitar refrain, a distinctly uillean-esque one.)

“Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” (1979) – Elmo ‘n’ Patsy

“Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” (1979) * Written by Randy Brooks * Produced by Gary Potterton * Label: Oink * Charts (first appearance): Billboard Christmas (#1) * Chart Entry: 12/17/83

In his Sleigh Rides, Jingle Bells and Silent Nights, Ronald D. Lankford, Jr., reports that songwriter Randy Brooks had found inspiration for “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” from Merle Haggard’s “Grandma’s Homemade Christmas Card” (1973). In that recording, Haggard describes his subject against the steel guitar backdrop of “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” with all cues pointing toward a maudlin death that never happens. So Brooks took that as a challenge (and stole the VII7-IV-I hook from Haggard’s “If We Make It Through December” along the way). After showing his creation to Elmo and Patsy, who recorded it on their own label in 1979, the record became America’s favorite perennial Christmas crudity. It could be that songs that never go away contain some sort of open-ended message that keeps our subconscious minds engaged. In this song, it’s most certainly the refrain “as for me and Grandpa, we believe.” The word “believe” is loaded with yuletide pixie dust as it is, but that seven-word line alludes to 1) factual reality (the belief that Grandma got run over), 2) a statement of faith (the belief that there must really be a Santa Claus, with Grandma’s possibly fortuitous death offered up as evidence), and 3) a fearful warning (the belief that Santa lives, and he may not only withhold presents from you but he might also kill you). Additional interpretations are by all means conceivable. Side B is a penance-flip that plays Christmas straight.

“Silent Night” (1978) – The Dickies

“Silent Night” (1978) * Written by Joseph Mohr and Franz Xaver Gruber (listed as Trad.) * Produced by John Hewlett * 45: “Silent Night” / “The Sound of Silence” * Label: A&M
 
The Dickies were punks from Southern California who drew slapstick (and stage prop) inspiration from England’s the Damned, whose cover art for Damned Damned Damned would have suited the Dickies just fine. Singer Leonard Graves Philips also sounded eerily interchangeable with Wire’s Colin Newman. One of their distinguishing factors, though, was a way with turning cover songs, which always started out seeming like mockery, into expressions of earnest tribute. On 1978’s “Silent Night,” with a misogyny-tinged picture sleeve that reinforces “punk-version” expectations, Philips sings his heart out and the guitar solo reaches for the stars. It becomes an un-silent yearning for silence that brings more layers of meaning out of the familiar song than countless other versions have ever managed. The silence shtick carries over to side B, a cover of “The Sound of Silence,” with an intro that makes you think of Loverboy’s forthcoming “When It’s Over,” and when the whole song really is over, silence never sounds louder.   

“The Sails of Charon” (1977) – Scorpions

“The Sails of Charon” (1977) – Scorpions * Written by Uli Jon Roth * Produced by Dieter Dierks * LP: Taken by Force * Label: RCA Victor

With “The Sails of Charon,” the Scorpions give the ancient Greek myth about the ferryman who carries deceased souls to the land of the dead a New Thought twist. Are they addressing Charon or someone doomed to ride with him? It doesn’t matter, because the song’s overriding messages are “Throw out your evil desire, the dark king’s kingdom is made out of mire” and “Keep on for the kingdom of light, there is no darkness, there is no night.” A possible translation: you have the power to break out of cyclical patterns and to move toward enlightenment. Even you, Charon. As for the track itself, it ranks as high on the metal scorecard as it possibly could, with adrenaline, fantasy, and shred factors all maxed out. Although there’s reason to suspect guitarist Uli John Roth had been listening to Duke Ellington’s “Caravan,” his fretwork and chord choices otherwise strengthen the song’s enlightenment theme by reaching toward the musical language of the East. (The original cover art for the Scorpions’ Taken By Force album, shown above, was replaced with an alternate cover in most markets. Also, the version of the track below is edited, without the minute’s worth of wind noise at the intro.)

“Elevator” (1979) – The Rollers

“Elevator” (1979) – The Rollers * Written by Eric Faulkner, Duncan Faure, and Stewart Wood * Produced by Peter Ker * LP: Elevator * Label: Arista

The Bay City Rollers reconstruction project started with the Elevator album. It was their first post-Krofft Superstar Hour event and included a number of loud hints that they were interested in ditching the preteen audience. They put a barbituate on the cover. (A downer going up.) They put a moustache on guitarist Eric Faulkner and abolished the words “bay” and “city.” They banished former frontman Les McKeown and included the words “erection” and “shit” on their lyric sheet. But in spite of such try-hard invitations for ongoing ridicule was the secret reality that they had released their finest album, a power-pop pleasure piece. Producer Peter Ker had been in the midst of working with the Motors, and new Roller frontman Duncan Faure, from South Africa, was showing a clear penchant for—and investment in—songcraft that carried on throughout their next two (and final) albums, each of them highly listenable yet awkwardly marketed affairs.

“Kenny at the Corner” (1976) – Hurriganes

“Kenny at the Corner” (1976) – Hurriganes * Written by Remu Aaltonen and Cisse Häkkinen * Produced by Hurriganes * LP: Hot Wheels * Label: Love
 
Hurriganes were the rockabilly figureheads of Finland, that permanently ’50s-crazed nation, but they’re also linguistically fascinating in that they shone the spotlight on — and celebrated — their shaky grasp of English. During the tankeros ’70s, such a quirk had marketing magic. Their band name spelling replaced what Finns heard as a weak K sound in the English word “hurricanes” with a G, and drummer/vocalist Remu Aaltonen barked confidently on every song, using any word combo, regardless of sequitur status, that raced through his mind. The song “Kenny on the Corner” from their 1976 Hot Wheels album is a worthy example, among many.

“I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” (1978) – The Rubinoos

“I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” (1978) * Written by Tommy Dunbar and James Gangwer * 45: “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” / “Gorilla” * LP: Back to the Drawing Board * Label: Beserkley

The power poppers of the seventies wore their inspirations like musical lapel pins, proudly adopting key hooks from the sixties British Invasion for their own purposes. But tribute, like parody, raises copyright questions. (In his Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, Eric Idle recounts playing the Rutles tracks to his pal and cheerleader George Harrison, who made it clear that composer Neil Innes had, alas, entered the copyright danger zone.) When the San Francisco Bay area’s Rubinoos sang “Hey! You! I wanna be your boyfriend,” they managed to pay their respects to both the Rolling Stones, by nabbing the key hook from their “Get Off My Cloud,” and the early Beatles, by using it in service of lovelorn tunesmithery. (Incidental advice to the Rubinoos: try addressing the girl by her name.) So when Avril Lavigne sang “Hey! You! I wanna be your girlfriend” in 2007 and had a radio-drenching #1 hit, songwriters Tommy Dunbar and James Ganwer had no choice but to make legal inquiries, seeing that anyone who knew their tune from 1978 assumed the existence of some sort of arrangement. No, none were made and none would be made. The defendants’ response: didn’t you steal your hook from the Stones?

“Cook of the House” (1976) – Wings

“Cook of the House” – Wings (1976) * Written by Linda McCartney and Paul McCartney * Produced by Paul McCartney *45: “Silly Love Songs” / “Cook of the House” * LP: Wings at the Speed of Sound * Label: Capitol

“Cook of the House,” featuring Linda McCartney’s best known vocal, appeared on the B-side for “Silly Love Songs,” the track that served as a cheerful anthem for the summer of ’76 and whose overuse as an analogy for rock’s death (or just Paul’s) became more tiresome than its saturated airplay. “Cook of the House” crackles with rock ‘n’ roll flipside-ology, only to be thrown out at your own ignorant accord. It brings to mind Rosie and the Originals’ 1960 “Give Me Love” (the B-side of “Angel Baby”), which John Lennon adored and was likely a Beatle inner-circle favorite. The sound of cooking grease comes off as scratchy vinyl; Linda sings instead of Paul, just as one of the Originals, on “Give Me Love,” sang lead instead of Rosie; a tenor sax honks aimlessly; the drums sound like sofa cushions. What does Paul sing at the beginning? Why are there voices of affirmation after he sings what he does? What is Linda saying in the verses? Not clear at all. How many consumers spun the 45 and relished the muffled, thumpy sound they heard? Untold numbers. Read some of the words most any critic has written about “Cook of the House,” though, and you’ll see why she recorded a song (on her posthumous Wide Prairie compilation) about “stupid dicks.” (Extracted/adapted from a longer post on Wide Prairie at Boneyard Media.) 

“Proud to Be Your Slave” (1975) – Diamond Head

“Proud to Be Your Slave” (1975) – Diamond Head * Written by Donald Fagen and Walter Becker * Produced by Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter * Arranged by Jimmie Haskell * 45: “All for the Love of Music” / “Proud to Be Your Slave”
 
The soft-rock Diamond Head from Southern California (not to be confused with the UK metal band) took their name from the famous volcanic ridge mark in the Hawaiian island of Oahu, and although their version of the Dennis Lambert-Brian Potter tune “If That’s the Way You Want It” only reached #106 in Billboard (their only chart appearance), Hawaiian radio spun it like crazy. Info about this band is elusive, but a 1975 B-side of theirs called “Proud to Be Your Slave,” has the distinction of being a curio from the song catalog of Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen and Walter Becker. Although Diamond Head are shoo-ins for the recently-conceived “yacht rock” category, as are Steely Dan—thanks to their studio slickness and camaraderie with the genre’s regulars—this record, with its lyrical and musical sardonicisms, calls attention to the otherwise odd fit.

“La Seceriș” (1978) – Mircea Baniciu

“La Seceriș” (1978) – Mircea Baniciu * Written by Petre Ghelmez and Mircea Baniciu * LP: Folk * Label: Electrecord

Among the pastoral beauties on this 1978 Romanian compilation is one by Mircea Baniciu, called “La Seceriș” (the harvest). The song captures him freshly abandoned by his former bandmates, who one day played with him as national favorites Phoenix, and the next day smuggled themselves out of their increasingly austere homeland. You listen and get the feeling that all Baniciu could do with this new development was to contemplate the fruits of the earth. Romanian music fans, though, would buoy him up and celebrate him to the present day. The lyricist Petre Ghelmez was a prolific Romanian poet and children’s author.