Imaginary Landscape

#15 In My Life – The Beatles 1965 At 14, I probably couldn’t appreciate the full impact of The Beatles’ recording, “In My Life.” Released late in 1965 on the groundbreaking album, Rubber Soul , I probably asked for it as a Christmas or birthday present and then retreated into my room to play it over and over. It was my first year in high school, my parents had been divorced for a couple of years, and my happiest times were in my room, or playing my drums or the piano, or sitting in English class. My mother and I had reconciled after she left us, and we were developing the relationship I described yesterday in “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” Things were about as stable as they could be in a teenager’s life. According to the stories, both John Lennon and Paul McCartney were working individually on songs about their childhoods. Lennon had worked on something he ended up hating, noting people and places he used to pass on his usual bus route, and he decided to write about generalities. Event

#14 Bridge Over Troubled Waters – Simon & Garfunkel 1970 Today’s song is as much memorial to my mother as it is a blog about a favorite song. I was a fan of Simon and Garfunkel from their first recording, from “The Sound of Silence” to “Song for the Asking” (the last song on their last studio album, Bridge Over Troubled Water . After they stopped recording together, I continued to enjoy music from their solo careers. One of Art Garfunkel’s recordings is the Food Guy’s and my “song” (for a later date). But back to “Bridge.” I dated a guy in my first year at university who was perfect for the time, he had a moustache and long hair and my dad hated him. It was more of a platonic relationship than anything; frankly, I think he did it to spite a high school girlfriend with whom he’d just broken up with when we met in American Literature class. None of that made it feel any better when he broke up with me, and since I told my mom everything, I told her about my broken heart. Now, you mus

#13 Dawn (Go Away) -- The Four Seasons 1964 Let’s leave the heavy and psychedelic tunes for today and go back to 1964 when I was just 13 and could carry my record collection around in one hand. I was listening to the radio one day – I don’t remember the specifics, but the most likely scenario was at the breakfast counter, with my mother serving our breakfast and listening to the AM radio and local Mason City, Iowa, radio station KRIB. Back then, it was rare for tunes to run back to back, especially without being announced, but I usually tuned all the talking out. Then there was acapella introduction: Pretty as a midsummer’s morn They call her Dawn Well, I was hooked. Other Four Seasons hits on the radio were listenable, but I didn’t wait for them to be played or buy the records. Up till then, the Four Seasons had some success with “Sherry,” “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” and “Walk Like a Man.” Nice tunes, well-harmonized, I enjoyed hearing them on the radio, cruising up and down “Fede

#12 Sunshine of Your Love – Cream 1968 The English band Cream – drummer Ginger Baker, bassist Jack Bruce, and guitarist Eric Clapton – worked on their second album, Disraeli Gears , in 1967. There are a few conflicting stories about how it was written and recorded, and it was not that well-received by the powers that be at Atco Records, who weren’t sure about many of the tracks on the album, but were especially unsure about “Sunshine of Your Love” being a single, calling the whole album “psychedelic hogwash.” Finally, Booker T. Jones (of Booker T and the MGs ) and Otis Redding , whose Stax recordings were distributed by Atco, gave their whole-hearted approval. The song was released in the UK in 1967 (at 4:08), and a shortened version (3:03) in the U.S. in 1968. It is Cream’s only gold single in the U.S. Clapton tells the story that Jack Bruce came up with the bass line after hearing The Jimi Hendrix Experience at the Saville Theatre in London. During the track’s recording,

#11 Wichita Lineman – Glen Campbell 1968 There may be more  Beatles’ tunes later, but today I want to wander back to the country music genre. I've never been an enthusiastic fan of country music, but I don’t let genres get in the way if a song meets my criteria: a talented artist, meaningful lyrics, and an intriguing melody. Sometimes I’m willing to give a bit on one of those criteria if the other two are especially enticing. And if you throw in a well-played piano (Billy Joel, Bruce Hornsby, Elton John), then all bets are off. In 1968, I was 17 years old, and if I heard “Wichita Lineman,” I may have been intrigued by it, but my dad liked country music, so that was enough for me to ignore whatever attraction it had for me. But once I was on my own and I grew a brain, I became enchanted with Glen Campbell (“The Pride of Delight [Arkansas]”), probably having seen him on television as a guest, or as the summer replacement host for the Smothers Brothers , and finally as host of

#10 I’ll Be Back – The Beatles 1964/65 It’s easy to predict that any Boomer’s list of favorite songs would include one or more Beatles’ tunes. Yes, some people did not like the Beatles, but they’re probably aliens or communists or something, so never mind. However, most Beatles’ fans may not list “I’ll Be Back” as their top 10 Beatles tunes. You know, it’s hard to dance to. But the minute I heard it on the radio, I had to have it. The switch from minor or major through the song, the simple three acoustic notes then a chord at the beginning, apparently two different bridges but no chorus, a truncated last verse – all of it enchanted me. It was released in 1964 in the UK on the album A Hard Day’s Night but wasn’t released in the U.S. until 1965 on the Beatles ’65 album. This happened a lot back in the day – two separate releases and different albums with different songs in the U.S. So, let’s pause for a brief side note.  About six months before the release of Beatles ’65 in th

#9 The Nullarbor Song – Kasey Chambers 2000 If I lost some of you with “Kashmir” yesterday, I might lose others today for a completely different reason. I’m going to write about a song you’ve probably never heard that’s about a place you may never have heard of. But first, a bit of geography. In Australia, the Nullarbor (from the Latin “null” = “no” and “arbor” = “tree”) is about 77,000 square miles of mostly treeless, semi-arid country in southern Australia, the largest single exposure of limestone bedrock in the world. It extends from the state of South Australia to the state of Western Australia. It was originally called “Oondiri” (“the waterless”) by the indigenous people who lived there. At the western end, you can find the 2.5-million-acre Rawlinna Station, the largest sheep station in the world, and it extends to the east roughly to the South Australia town of Ceduna. I lived near the western end in a settlement called Eucla (if you don’t already know). The place used to

#8 Kashmir -- Led Zeppelin 1975/Page & Plant 1994 When Led Zeppelin released their arguably most acclaimed album, Physical Graffiti , in 1975 (remastered in 1990), I was somewhere in the transition from Navy journalist to civilian. My music purchases had virtually stopped during my time in the Navy – no turntable, no spending money, too busy – but I was a Led Zeppelin fan just from radio play. I made an exception with Physical Graffiti , first heard at a friend’s. If you ask Boomer rock and roll fans for favorite groups or their favorite songs, many mention Led Zeppelin, and the song that comes to mind is “Stairway to Heaven.” Some might even cite “Whole Lotta Love.” But the song that tops the list for most diehard fans is “Kashmir.” It was met with critical acclaim, but it had its detractors. Rolling Stone declared it “monotonous.” But they didn’t like “Stairway” when it was first released. The band had never been to Kashmir, but Plant based his lyrics on a visit he’d made

#6 Magic Bus ( Live at Leeds version) 1970 The Who I’ve just been to the doctor for some kind of eczema or creeping crud, so I’m enjoying a cool one and am in the mood for something loud and upbeat. One of the first song that comes to mind is one of my favorite 1970s songs. Before digital and other augmentations, live, you have a mad guitarist, a mad drummer, a mad bassist (the first bass player to play his instrument like a lead guitar?), and a vocalist with a harmonica, and you have rock perfection. Pete Townsend wrote “Magic Bus” in 1965, but it wasn’t recorded until 1968. The single never broke 25 on Billboard, but with the unique Latin claves opening and the driving Bo Diddley beat, it became a concert favorite. Bassist John Entwhistle said it was his least favorite song because he essentially plays one note throughout, and guitarist Pete Townsend said it was his favorite song. It can be heard at the beginning of the films Jerry McGuire and at the end of Goodfellas .

#4 For What It’s Worth – Buffalo Springfield 1966 Given what’s been going since January 20, 2017, I thought I’d post this song today. Many people think it is an antiwar (Vietnam) song, or a song written in protest of the National Guard shootings at Kent State (although that took place four years later in 1970), but according to the songwriter, Stephen Stills, it was written because of a 10 p.m. curfew and general harassment of young people going to clubs and hanging out on Sunset Strip in West Hollywood. (See The Sunset Strip Curfew Riots or “hippie riots.”) Buffalo Springfield (Stephen Stills, Richie Furay, and Neil Young most prominently) performed in clubs there and had become the house band at Whiskey A Go Go at the time. Several protests resulted in clashes with the police, most notably on November 12, 1966, resulting in 1,000 protesters arrested, including Jack Nicholson and Peter Fonda. The third verse is -- What a field-day for the heat A thousand people in the street S

When my mom died from complications of dementia, all her friends were long gone, and it  was just me, my best friend of 60 years, and my husband at the cemetery to tell her goodbye. It was freezing cold, so I played a few songs, and my friend took some photos. When "Moonlight Serenade" came on my little MP3 amplifier, I cried (again). My husband took me in his arms, and we danced because my mother loved to dance. #3 Moonlight Serenade Glenn Miller 1935/1939 One of my earliest memories is from the late 1950s and this huge (it seemed to a pre- elementary school child) entertainment center that my parents had. The cabinet was upholstered in a kind of tan padded leather (or vinyl) with decorative (and purposed) upholstery tacks. On top was a big, brown Bakelite radio and the controls to switch to the turntable inside the cabinet where dozens of 75 rpm records were carefully stored in book-like albums. Among them, and perhaps some of the most numerous were recordings by t