Back when the times were a'changin'
I hope that you spent last night in a productive way, slashing chores off your to-do list, spending time with people you haven't seen in a while, applying time to something creative that will change the world, or at least just get you laid.
I did none of those things. In a fit of extreme geekdom, i spent the entire night combiling a playlist of Pitchfork's Greatest Songs of the '60's, searching through my own collection and buying some to fill in the spots. I was helped massively by this guy, who's kindly providing me with the songs that aren't available for download or, frankly, I just don't feel like buying.
Over the course of the last few years, the '60's have become my favorite era. This is partly because it was a great singles era, and partly because it was a time of incredible change, not in the least when an immature but promising music grew up into an amazingly varied and mature group of sounds without losing its youthful exuberence.
But the main reason I've come to love it so much is because it's that one decade of rock that holds mystery to me. I was young in the '70's, but a lot of the pop music from the era still holds memories for me. Everything since then has been covered by my geek era (in progress). But the '60's all happened before I was born, and while I was exposed to tons of it through my Mom, I could never really grasp the concept of it as a once-new sound. Once I could turn my view of it from "oldies" into just songs, I started realizing how gritty it was, and how clear, bright and vibrant the production was. I know that they were using the technology available, but it's incredible to me that producers and artists have spent so much time trying to make music clearer, and only rarely in the last 36 years have they been able to surpass the crispness of the ride cymbals, snares and acoustic guitars of '60's music.
So the chance to add more great '60's music to my collection was one I couldn't pass up, and in spite of Pitchfork's snobiness, they do these sorts of things well. When they mention a song I've never even heard of—let alone heard—my curiosity got the better of me.
So far, I haven't been disappointed, except maybe for the inclusion of "Venus In Furs", a song that sounds really great for the first minute or so, before it turns into the one time that the Velvet Underground seemed intent only on trying to sound freaky and weird. "Sinnerman" should have been higher, and "She's Not There" should have been MUCH higher, but that's the fun of these sorts of lists.
In all the songs that I had never heard (or had forgotten I'd heard, like the Walker Brothers "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore"), there was one song that blew me away so much that I—no lie—have listened to it 50 times since I first heard it at around 9:00 last night. I've kept it on repeat, waiting for that moment when I get tired of it, and it never comes. It gets to the end and I immediately want to hear it again, and when that walking bass line and the unbelievably hot vocals come in, I'm hooked all over again.
France Gall, "Laisse Tomber les Filles"I lost a good amount of sleep to this song, which is why my writing is so bleary and incapable of efficiency this morning. But it was worth it.
2 comments:
If you liked that Walker Brothers song, you absolutely need to get your hands on "It's Raining Today: The Scott Walker Story (1967-70)." I can guarantee you will love just about every song on there, especially Plastic Palace People, It's Raining Today and Montague Terrace.
thanks for the plug!
the France Gall song is one of my favourites as well.
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