Anatomy of 55 Hit Songs E-Book

Marc Myers

• Herausgeber: Grove Press UK
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 457

Beschreibung

Songs that sell the most copies become hits, but some of those hits become something more - iconic recordings that not only inspire a generation but also alter the direction of music. In this follow-up to his classic Anatomy of a Song, writer and music historian Marc Myers tells the stories behind fifty-five more rock, pop, R&B, country and reggae hits through intimate interviews with the artists who wrote and recorded them. Part oral history, part musical analysis, Anatomy of 55 More Songs ranges from Creedence Clearwater Revival's 'Bad Moon Rising' to Dionne Warwick's 'Walk On By', The Beach Boys' 'Good Vibrations' and Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid'. Bernie Taupin recalls how he wrote the lyrics to Elton John's 'Rocket Man'; Joan Jett remembers channeling her rage against how she had been unfairly labeled and treated into 'Bad Reputation' and Ozzy Osbourne, Elvis Costello, Bob Weir, Sheryl Crow, Alice Cooper, Roberta Flack, John Mellencamp, Keith Richards, Carly Simon and many others reveal the emotions and technique behind their major works.

Leseprobe

Also by Marc Myers

Rock Concert

Anatomy of a Song

Why Jazz Happened

First published in the United States of America in 2022 by Grove Atlantic

First published in Great Britain in 2022 by Grove Press UK, an imprint of Grove Atlantic

Copyright © 2022 by Marc Myers

The moral right of Marc Myers to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book.

All photos printed throughout the text courtesy of Getty Images, with the following exceptions: Chapter 14 (Joffrey Ballet): Courtesy of New York City Center. Chapter 26 (Redbone): Shutterstock. Chapter 35 (Steely Dan): Henry Diltz. Chapter 36 (The Cars, Ric Ocasek): Scott Weiner. Chapter 38 (Earth, Wind & Fire): Courtesy of Allee Willis. Chapter 53 (Keith Richards): Lynn Goldsmith. Chapter 55 (Sheryl Crow): Interfoto via Alamy.

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

Grove Press UK

Ormond House

26–27 Boswell Street

London

WC1N 3JZ

www.atlantic-books.co.uk

Hardback ISBN 978 1 61185 658 3

Ebook ISBN 978 1 61185 872 3

Printed in Great Britain

To Alyse,Olivia, and Dylan

CONTENTS

Introduction

  1: Walk On By DIONNE WARWICK

Interviews: Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick, Artie Butler

Released: April 1964

  2: Dancing in the Street MARTHA AND THE VANDELLAS

Interviews: Ivy Jo Hunter, Paul Riser, William “Mickey” Stevenson, Martha Reeves

Released: July 1964

  3: Sunshine Superman DONOVAN

Interviews: Donovan, John Cameron, Linda Lawrence

Released: July 1966

  4: Good Vibrations THE BEACH BOYS

Interviews: Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Hal Blaine, Don Randi, Al Jardine, Tony Asher, Tommy Morgan

Released: October 1966

  5: Up, Up and Away THE 5TH DIMENSION

Interviews: Jimmy Webb, Marilyn McCoo, Billy Davis Jr.

Released: May 1967

  6: Get Together THE YOUNGBLOODS

Interviews: Jesse Colin Young, Lowell “Banana” Levinger

Released: July 1967/Reissued: June 1969

  7: The Weight THE BAND

Interview: Robbie Robertson

Released: August 1968

  8: Fire THE CRAZY WORLD OF ARTHUR BROWN

Interview: Arthur Brown

Released: September 1968

  9: Bad Moon Rising CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL

Interview: John Fogerty

Released: April 1969

10: Crystal Blue Persuasion TOMMY JAMES AND THE SHONDELLS

Interview: Tommy James

Released: June 1969

11: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough DIANA ROSS

Interviews: Valerie Simpson, Paul Riser, Mary Wilson, Eddie Willis

Released: July 1970

12: Paranoid BLACK SABBATH

Interviews: Ozzy Osbourne, Tom Allom

Released: August 1970

13: Truckin’ GRATEFUL DEAD

Interview: Bob Weir

Released: November 1970

14: I’m Eighteen ALICE COOPER

Interviews: Alice Cooper, Michael Bruce, Dennis Dunaway, Shep Gordon, Bob Ezrin

Released: November 1970

15: Bang a Gong (Get It On) T. REX

Interviews: Tony Visconti, Bill Legend

Released: July 1971

16: Roundabout YES

Interviews: Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, Rick Wakeman

Released: January 1972

17: Doctor My Eyes JACKSON BROWNE

Interview: Jackson Browne

Released: March 1972

18: Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress THE HOLLIES

Interviews: Roger Cook, Allan Clarke, Bobby Elliott

Released: April 1972

19: Rocket Man ELTON JOHN

Interview: Bernie Taupin

Released: April 1972

20: I’ll Be Around THE SPINNERS

Interviews: Thom Bell, Phil Hurtt, Earl Young

Released: July 1972

21: Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone THE TEMPTATIONS

Interviews: Barrett Strong, Paul Riser, Otis Williams

Released: September 1972

22: Killing Me Softly with His Song ROBERTA FLACK

Interviews: Charles Fox, Lori Lieberman, Roberta Flack

Released: January 1973

23: Smoke on the Water DEEP PURPLE

Interviews: Ian Paice, Ian Gillan, Roger Glover, Ritchie Blackmore

Released: May 1973

24: Hello It’s Me TODD RUNDGREN

Interview: Todd Rundgren

Released: September 1973

25: She’s Gone HALL & OATES

Interviews: John Oates, Daryl Hall

Released: November 1973/Reissued: July 1976

26: Come and Get Your Love REDBONE

Interview: Pat Vegas

Released: January 1974

27: Sundown GORDON LIGHTFOOT

Interviews: Gordon Lightfoot, Lenny Waronker, Cathy Smith

Released: March 1974

28: I’m Not in Love 10cc

Interviews: Eric Stewart, Graham Gouldman, Kevin Godley, Lol Creme, Cathy Redfern

Released: May 1975

29: Love Is the Drug ROXY MUSIC

Interviews: Andy Mackay, Bryan Ferry

Released: October 1975

30: The Boys Are Back in Town THIN LIZZY

Interviews: Scott Gorham, Chris O’Donnell, John Alcock, Will Reid Dick

Released: April 1976

31: Fly Like an Eagle STEVE MILLER BAND

Interview: Steve Miller

Released: August 1976

32: Year of the Cat AL STEWART

Interview: Al Stewart

Released: October 1976

33: Barracuda HEART

Interviews: Michael Fisher, Roger Fisher, Michael Derosier, Nancy Wilson, Ann Wilson

Released: May 1977

34: Nobody Does It Better CARLY SIMON

Interviews: Carole Bayer Sager, Carly Simon, Michael Omartian, Richard Hewson

Released: July 1977

35: Peg STEELY DAN

Interviews: Donald Fagen, Tom Scott, Jay Graydon, Michael McDonald

Released: November 1977

36: My Best Friend’s Girl THE CARS

Interviews: Ric Ocasek, Maxanne Sartori, David Robinson, Elliot Easton

Released: October 1978

37: The Gambler KENNY ROGERS

Interviews: Don Schlitz, Kenny Rogers

Released: November 1978

38: September EARTH, WIND & FIRE

Interviews: Allee Willis, Verdine White, Marilyn White

Released: November 1978

39: What a Fool Believes THE DOOBIE BROTHERS

Interviews: Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins

Released: January 1979

40: Accidents Will Happen ELVIS COSTELLO

Interview: Elvis Costello

Released: May 1979

41: The Devil Went Down to Georgia THE CHARLIE DANIELS BAND

Interview: Charlie Daniels

Released: May 1979

42: Good Times CHIC

Interview: Nile Rodgers

Released: June 1979

43: Highway to Hell AC/DC

Interviews: Angus Young, Cliff Williams, Phil Rudd

Released: July 1979

44: Cars GARY NUMAN

Interviews: Gary Numan, Chris Payne

Released: August 1979

45: On the Radio DONNA SUMMER

Interviews: Giorgio Moroder, Bruce Sudano, Stephen Bishop, Harold Faltermeyer, Keith Forsey, Gary Herbig

Released: November 1979

46: Bad Reputation JOAN JETT

Interviews: Joan Jett, Kenny Laguna

Released: May 1980

47: Rapture BLONDIE

Interviews: Debbie Harry, Chris Stein, Mike Chapman, Clem Burke, Tom Scott, Frank Infante

Released: January 1981

48: Don’t Stop Believin’ JOURNEY

Interviews: Jonathan Cain, Neal Schon

Released: October 1981

49: Steppin’ Out JOE JACKSON

Interviews: Joe Jackson, David Kershenbaum

Released: August 1982

50: Burning Down the House TALKING HEADS

Interviews: David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison

Released: July 1983

51: The Power of Love HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS

Interviews: Huey Lewis, Chris Hayes, Johnny Colla

Released: June 1985

52: Small Town JOHN MELLENCAMP

Interview: John Mellencamp

Released: November 1985

53: Take It So Hard KEITH RICHARDS

Interviews: Keith Richards, Steve Jordan

Released: October 1988

54: Being Boring PET SHOP BOYS

Interviews: Neil Tennant, Harold Faltermeyer

Released: November 1990

55: If It Makes You Happy SHERYL CROW

Interviews: Sheryl Crow, Jeff Trott

Released: September 1996

Acknowledgments

INTRODUCTION

On a blazing hot afternoon in August of 2016, I was at the California Mid-State Fair for the Wall Street Journal to interview Brian Wilson and Al Jardine for my “Anatomy of a Song” column on “Good Vibrations” that appears in this book. Backstage, hours before they went on that evening, I sat with Brian on a maroon leather sofa. The temperature outside was well over 100, but the trailer we were in was in the 70s. As we caught up, I could hear an easy listening album playing lightly on a digital player next to him. I soon recognized the music. It was The Beach Boys Song Book: Romantic Instrumentals by the Hollyridge Strings.

The orchestral, easy listening album from 1964 was recorded by Capitol to leverage the Beach Boys’ early pop success and reach the more mellow adult market. After “The Warmth of the Sun” finished, I asked Brian why he was listening to it. “To relax,” he said. “The Hollyridge Strings help me relax. You know, before the show.” Then I asked what he thought of the instrumental arrangements of his Beach Boys songs. “They’re good. Nice and easy. It takes me back.”

Brian’s preconcert audio therapy made sense. Neuroscience-based studies show that songs from decades ago have the power to relax us, stir up nostalgic feelings, and unconsciously rekindle memories we associate with those recordings. The reason we like to listen to pop songs from our past is that they are instantly familiar, we already know the words and music, and they transport us back to a time when our lives seemed less complicated. Whether life really was simpler is another matter. Most of us like to think so. What is true is that hits first heard during our adolescence or in college remind us of our younger selves and lower our stress levels. These days, I’ve found that many of us want to know how the songs that defined us were conceived, written, and recorded.

I began writing about the art of songwriting in 2011, when the Wall Street Journal arts editors and I launched the “Anatomy of a Song” column. My initial forty-five columns for the WSJ between 2011 and early 2016 appeared in the first volume of this book—Anatomy of a Song: The Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B and Pop. Over the next five years, I wrote another sixty columns. Fifty-four of them are included here plus one written exclusively for this volume: Arthur Brown’s 1968 hit “Fire,” which launched shock rock and paved the way for artists such as Alice Cooper, Kiss, Iggy Pop, and Twisted Sister.

This book, like the first volume, tells two stories. Since the columns are arranged chronologically based on their release date, the newly written column introductions set the stage by shedding light on the genre of each song, the importance of the artist or band that recorded the hit and how well the song did on Billboard’s charts. Collectively, these introductions form a time line of rock’s evolution, from pop rock in 1964 to heartland rock in 1996. The second story told is about each song’s birth and development in the words of the lyricists, composers, producers, musicians, recording engineers, and others who played key roles in the writing and recording.

As with my last Anatomy of a Song book, the songs I chose for this volume date back at least twenty-five years. I have long felt that for a song to be truly iconic, it must be groundbreaking, influential, or have other qualities that enable the recording to remain exciting and meaningful today. Like many prominent halls of fame in sports and entertainment, a specified period of time must pass before induction can take place. Time allows a song’s initial perceived accomplishments to settle in and be measured against our revised thoughts, new standards, and new works. Only then can we determine how a song has held up artistically and whether it is a true classic or was just a passing fad that excited us back then but no longer has the juice it once did. Twenty-five years is a good, solid duration for an accurate assessment.

A word on my reporting, writing, and editing process for these columns. Before interviewing sources for each “Anatomy of a Song,” I did a sizable amount of research. This was necessary not only for obvious journalistic reasons but also because I always want to nudge sources beyond everything else that has been written previously about the song. Sometimes what emerges from such nudging are deeply buried emotions. In other cases, I’m able to pull loose forgotten writing and recording details. Armed with knowledge, I can plan interview strategy and know when and where to push for more information to enrich the song’s story arc.

Once I’ve written up the interviews, I edit the result into a chronological narrative. I take steps to have the story unfold as a cinematic visual. In other words, I edited these columns as if they were movie screenplays. My goal was to create a narrative that lets you see in your mind what took place and imagine the subject is in the room telling the story directly to you. I also want you to hear the cadence of sources’ voices—how they talk and how they put things. Then I tackle the fact-checking, verifying that every single piece of information is 100 percent accurate. I take this last step seriously. Music history is important and needs to be free of errors.

Over the past ten years, I have often been asked how I chose the songs to profile or why I picked one hit by an artist or band over another. It’s a process guided largely by feel and what I call the “oh wow” factor. The songs I ultimately pitched to my editors had a few criteria in common. First, I looked for hits that were iconic but not tired. In other words, songs the reader will know but haven’t been worn out, which would exhaust their appeal. Second, I looked for songs that played a significant role in influencing the direction of pop in general or the subcategory the artist or band was pioneering. And third, I favored songs with aspects that long puzzled readers. I liked to use the interviews to resolve them for readers. For example, who is singing, “Be quiet, big boys don’t cry” in 10cc’s “I’m Not in Love”? Why was “ba-dee-ya” used so prominently in the lyrics of Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September”? And was Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes” a metaphor or was it about a real-life trip to the ophthalmologist?

Once I had a green light from my editors, I then had to convince artists to be interviewed, which wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Many artists don’t like looking back at earlier recordings, no matter how successful those hits were or how sizable their royalties today. Instead, they prefer talking about what they’re doing now or next. Getting them to agree is about timing and passion. Each column in this book has its own story of how I wrestled it to the ground. That’s for another book.

For me, “Anatomy of a Song” has been more than a column. I was on a mission. These are the songs of my life just as they are the songs of yours or your parents. I’ve been driven by a love of music history and a passion for capturing as many stories behind important pop songs as possible. But not just the stories. I also wanted these stories to be told in the voices of those who imagined the songs. I wanted to convey what they were going through at the time and how they took creative ideas and turned them into records that found their way into our collections and hearts.

As for Brian Wilson, his life has been spent capturing the music he hears in his head and finding ways in the studio to make it connect with you. So Brian listening to easy listening versions of his own songs wasn’t really as strange as it seems. His motive was to achieve a desired frame of mind before his concert. And isn’t that why we all listen to these songs? This book will tell you how 55 hit songs were conceived and created and will help explain why you love them so much.

Dionne Warwick and Burt Bacharach in London in 1964.

 1:

Walk On By

DIONNE WARWICK

Released: April 1964

In the early 1960s, singles released by Motown began peaking high up on Billboard’s R&B and pop charts. The accomplishment was remarkable for the time, since most records by many Black artists tended to perform best only on the R&B chart. Motown clearly had figured out a formula for appealing to record buyers beyond its core Black market. Other record labels such as Scepter took notice. Founded by Florence Greenberg in New York in 1959, Scepter followed Motown’s lead, signing songwriters and artists with the express purpose of releasing urban-market songs that would become mass-market hits. One of Scepter’s top songwriting teams at the time was lyricist Hal David and composer Burt Bacharach.

David and Bacharach wrote “Walk On By” in 1963 for singer Dionne Warwick, whom they had just signed to their music publishing company. Interestingly, Warwick’s husky, trained voice and mature delivery appealed to both Black and white young adults. At the time, the song was unusual for its sophisticated chord changes, orchestration, and lyrics written from the perspective of a woman who had been jilted by her boyfriend. Most Top 40 pop songs then were about falling in love not coping with the emotional fallout of a breakup.

After “Walk On By” was released in 1964, the single reached No. 1 on the R&B chart and No. 6 on Billboard’s pop chart. The song also was a turning point for Bacharach, whose music would continue to be marked by his dramatic melodies, unusual time signatures, and catchy instrumental arrangements. The single was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1998.

Burt Bacharach

(composer)

In 1963, lyricist Hal David and I were focused on Dionne Warwick. We had signed her a year earlier to our publishing company to record our songs, and we were signed to Scepter Records. We were trying to write songs that would click with the urban market. Dionne had a singular voice that was perfect for us—young, earthy, edgy, and confident. The first three singles we wrote for her were “Don’t Make Me Over” in ’62 and “This Empty Place” and “Make the Music Play” in early ’63. All three charted, but they weren’t big pop hits. We needed to do better.

Hal and I began writing “Walk On By” in mid-’63 in our office at New York’s Brill Building. I sat at our terrible upright piano, and Hal sat at a small desk with a pad and pen. Hal had just three lyric lines. They would become the song’s opener: “If you see me walking down the street/And I start to cry, each time we meet/Walk on by.”

I came up with a melody line and we evolved from there. Hal wrote the verses that day, and I added the music. “Walk On By” had an unusual structure, musically. Unlike most pop songs, I used quite a few minor chords in the verses. Hal’s lyrics also were different for us and for most songs back then. Instead of a woman singing about falling in love, she endures the pain of being rejected and tells the guy who dumped her to keep moving when she runs into him on the street. It’s about a woman’s vulnerability, pride, and self-worth.

But Hal and I never thought about the psychology of the lyrics at the time. We were just trying to write songs that would click with the urban market. Hal was going against the lovestruck trend in music then, and his verses for this song focused on the heartbreak: “Make believe/That you don’t see the tears/Just let me grieve/In private, ’cause each time I see you/I break down and cry.”

The chorus—repeating “walk on by”—creates a break before the verses continue, imploring the guy to keep going and not worry about her if she seems down: “I just can’t get over losing you/And so if I seem, broken and blue/Walk on by, walk on by/Foolish pride, that’s all that I have left/So let me hide/The tears and the sadness you gave me/When you said goodbye.”

The lyric came from Hal’s superiority as a wordsmith. I just wanted notes that sounded fresh against them. I wasn’t trying to get the arrangement to match the lyrics’ meaning. Once I had the basics written out, I made a tape of me playing piano and singing Hal’s lyrics. I took it home to my apartment on 63rd Street near Third Avenue to work on. Next, Dionne came to the Brill Building to hear what I had come up with.

Dionne Warwick

(singer)

I liked the song as Burt played and sang it for me. I was in my early twenties, so we all had fights with boyfriends and told them to get lost. I knew right away I was singing a special lyric. I’m sure Hal had overheard a woman say “walk on by” to someone someplace. He told me many of his phrases came from the environment.

Bacharach

I envisioned the orchestration as I wrote out the chords and melody. Two very important elements distanced the song from being normal and were indelible. When Dionne sings “walk on by” in the verse, I wanted her to be answered not by background singers but by two flügelhorns echoing those words. The flügelhorn is fleshy and sensual. Two trumpets would have been too hard and piercing. By having the two flügelhorns play in unison, the notes would be slightly uneven around the edges and sound human.

To ensure they delivered soulfully, I wrote words on the flügelhorn parts, like “Just look in my eyes, dear.” This let the flügelhorn players visualize and feel the drama I wanted in their notes. I also wanted two pianos. I had one piano play in the verses but two in the chorus. There, I had them both play accented eighth notes that formed a chord. It added a feeling of impatience. At Bell Sound Studios, we recorded two songs that day—“Walk On By” and “Anyone Who Had a Heart.” “Walk On By” came first.

Artie Butler

(pianist)

When I arrived, Burt had two concert grands with the keyboards positioned at a right angle. Paul Griffin, a terrific studio pianist and a friend, was the second pianist. Burt played us what he wanted. The music was unique and complicated—harmonically and rhythmically. It was intelligent and beautiful, with sophisticated twists and turns in the melody. Burt wanted our souls in there.

Bacharach

In the intro and the verses, the sharp “shicks” you hear were created on the electric guitar by Bill Suyker. It gave the song a rhythmic, Brazilian baião feel that was subliminal and suspenseful. Russ Savakus was on bass, Gary Chester on drums. Before we started recording, I got them around the piano and sang each part so they knew how I wanted them to sound. Then Dionne went into the glass vocal booth and we recorded between nine and eleven takes.

Warwick

It was more like fifteen. Burt marches to his own drummer. He kept pushing for one more take, just one more that was a little better. Singing background was my sister Dee Dee, my cousin Myrna Utley, and Sylvia Shemwell. They were background singers known as the Sweet Inspirations. On top of that gospel sound, Burt wanted an airy choir. So he brought in Linda November, Valerie Simpson, Maeretha Stewart, and Elyse Brittan.

Bacharach

I wanted the deeper church voices in the core and the lighter, angelic sound to broaden the harmony on top, almost like vocal strings. I had the two groups sing an octave apart. For the strings in the second half, I used nine violins, two violas, and two cellos. But after the first or second take, I knew I had to rework the strings at the end. The part was too busy. Instead, I had them play a single note. My goal was to make all of the different elements in “Walk On By” seamless. I didn’t want the listener to notice. I wanted the shifts to sound and feel totally natural.

Warwick

Scepter released “Anyone Who Had a Heart” first, in January ’64. It went to No. 8. Then they released “Walk On By” in April—on the B-side. Can you imagine? My vocal on Burt and Hal’s “Any Old Time of Day” was the A-side. Both were great, but “Walk On By” had the drama. Fortunately, Murray the K, the influential New York DJ, liked “Walk On By” better. He kept playing it until Scepter called to protest. So he had his listeners vote by phone. “Walk On By” won, and most DJs around the country followed his lead. It went to No. 6.

Bacharach

“Walk On By” was a turning point in my musical voyage. Looking back, the success of its sound freed me to develop irregular time signatures and instrumentation on all my songs moving forward. For the first time, I had given myself permission to use two flügelhorns and two pianos. That led me to use five pianos on “What’s New Pussycat?” in 1965 with Tom Jones and a pair of flügelhorns with Dionne on “I Say a Little Prayer” in ’67.

After the success of “Walk On By,” I never had to worry about a record company second-guessing me. I was no longer at their mercy. I was free to explore a new approach without thinking twice about it.

Martha and the Vandellas, from left, Martha Reeves, Betty Kelly, and Rosalind Ashford at New York’s Apollo Theater in 1964.

 2:

Dancing in the Street

MARTHA AND THE VANDELLAS

Released: July 1964

When singer Martha Reeves was hired at Motown’s Hitsville office in Detroit in 1962 as a receptionist, she quickly became invaluable. That summer, Reeves and her vocal group, the Del-Phis, caught a break when Marvin Gaye needed backup singers on “Stubborn Kind of Fellow.” The vocal group became the Vandellas and recorded their first hit, “Come and Get These Memories,” in late 1962. “Heat Wave” would be their next big hit in 1963 when it reached No. 4 on Billboard’s pop chart.

In July 1964, Martha and the Vandellas released “Dancing in the Street.” The single was unlike anything Motown had ever produced. It was funkier—with grinding horns, a throbbing bass line, and explosive drum shots on the second and fourth beats. It had enormous energy, and the song’s raucous message, about people coming together and dancing in the street, resonated with Black and white audiences. Written by Ivy Jo Hunter, William “Mickey” Stevenson, and Marvin Gaye, “Dancing in the Street” became a civil rights anthem of unity several years later.

“Dancing in the Street” reached No. 2 on the Billboard pop chart and became the group’s biggest seller. Many cover versions followed by artists ranging from the Mamas & the Papas and the Grateful Dead to a duet by David Bowie and Mick Jagger. The song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999.

Ivy Jo Hunter

(cowriter)

In early 1964, I had just joined Motown as a songwriter. I knew how to create chords and rhythms on the piano but I wasn’t accomplished enough yet to play them together with melodies. One day I was upstairs at Motown’s Hitsville studio in Detroit in a little room with an upright piano. I was there trying to write a song—not anything specific for any particular artist. Just a song.

I often started songs by playing a bass line on the keyboard. As I played this one, I stuck to a single note, rocking my pinky and thumb back and forth an octave apart. I came up with this pulsating figure, starting with the higher note. Then I came up with a melody and chords, using the bass line’s notes at the bottom of each chord. But I couldn’t play all of it together, so I went to find Paul Riser to see if he could help.

Paul Riser

(arranger)

When Ivy came by, we talked through what he wanted and what I thought would help. Then I wrote it out. My job was to enhance and expand his ideas to help him achieve his dream for the song. When we were set, I sat down in the arranging department and created a skeleton chord sheet for the Funk Brothers—Motown’s house rhythm section. If you gave them the basics of what you wanted, they would invent something extraordinary.

When I had Ivy’s ideas down on paper, we brought the rhythm section into the studio: Earl Van Dyke on keyboards, guitarist Robert White, bassist James Jamerson, and drummer Freddie Waits. Ivy and I talked them through each of the parts. The drums and bass were most important, since they always set the feel for a Motown song.

Hunter

The goal was to come away with a rhythm track on tape that I could listen to while coming up with lyrics. The Funk Brothers ran through the music as Paul had written it and then did their thing and locked it in the pocket. Wow, they always came up with something great. When we were done, I took the tape over to [producer] Mickey Stevenson’s house on Sturtevant Street. He had a rehearsal room there in his attic. I sat on the floor with my yellow pad and wrote melancholy lyrics, which is how I envisioned the music. Fortunately, Marvin [Gaye] was at Mickey’s house.

William “Mickey” Stevenson

(cowriter-producer)

Marvin and I always worked on songs together at my place. Marvin and I needed a song that day for singer Kim Weston. Kim and I were living together then before marrying in 1967. The song Ivy was working on seemed perfect for her, but Marvin had a different idea about the song’s feel.

Hunter

As I wrote the lyrics, I’d sing them to the rhythm track. The music was different from what Motown had produced up until that point. Most Motown songs were based on the Charleston. This song was more like a freight train with a heavy backbeat. Marvin heard me singing to the music and came over. He thought my melancholy lyrics were off. Mickey agreed. Marvin said the rhythm track sounded more upbeat, like people “dancing in the street,” which he also thought should be the song’s title. As soon as Marvin said that, I knew he was right. You don’t argue with the truth unless you’re an idiot.

About a half hour later, I finished the new lyrics. I opened with “Callin’ out around the world/Are you ready for a brand new beat?/Summer’s here and the time is right/For dancing in the street.” Marvin added three cities to a verse—“Philadelphia P-A, Baltimore and D.C., now,” since he knew the Motown Revue tour stops.

Stevenson

I first met Martha Reeves in 1962 at Detroit’s 20 Grand club. Martha was singing there as Martha LaVaille. After her last song, I walked up to her and handed her my business card. She had talent and belonged at Hitsville. A week or so later, Martha came by Hitsville to audition, but we only held auditions on Thursdays. Meanwhile my phone was ringing off the hook, and I had to go to a meeting with Motown founder Berry Gordy. When I returned hours later, Martha had taken over the office—answering my phone, taking neat messages, handling musicians’ questions, and so on. I asked if she would stay and she did.

Over the next two years, she recorded six singles as Martha and the Vandellas with Rosalind Ashford and Annette Beard. These included hits like “Come and Get These Memories” and “Heat Wave.” When Annette left the Vandellas in early ’64, Betty Kelly replaced her. One night in the spring of ’64, Ivy, Marvin, and I were working late at the studio on Ivy’s song, “Dancing in the Street.” We had a rhythm track and lyrics, but we needed a vocal demo so I could play it for Kim. Marvin took a shot, but it wasn’t quite right. By then, Martha had wandered down to Motown’s basement studio.

Martha Reeves

(lead singer)

The first time I heard “Dancing in the Street,” I was in the doorway of Studio A watching Marvin sing it. I admired him, since the Vandellas and I had sung background on Marvin’s first three hits. When he spotted me, he suggested that Mickey and Ivy give me a shot. I asked the guys if I could sing it the way I felt it in my heart. They said, “Sure, go ahead.” I went into the studio and put on the headphones. I sang the song with push, as if singing it to our entire neighborhood from my family’s porch in Detroit. At the end, through the control-room glass, I could see Ivy, Mickey, and Marvin congratulating each other.

But Lawrence Horn, the engineer, had forgotten to turn on the recording machine. The guys asked me to sing it again. On the second take—the one you hear on the record—there was fire in my voice. I wasn’t happy about having to do it twice, since my first take was perfect. While I sang, I thought about Riopelle Street, where I grew up on Detroit’s East Side. We had street-dance parties there all the time. I loved the East Side. When I came up with the Vandellas’ name, I combined Van—for Van Dyke Street, the East Side’s main boulevard—and the first name of singer Della Reese, whose voice I admired.

Stevenson

When Martha finished singing the second take, Ivy said, “Did you hear that?” Marvin said he did. So did I. It was the sound of a hit. But I was in big trouble. The song was supposed to be for Kim, and Martha had just aced it. I headed home at around 3:30 a.m. with an acetate of Martha’s demo. At the house, I woke up Kim. I told her I had a demo I wanted her to hear. Half-asleep, Kim listened and said she wasn’t crazy about it. I told her not to worry, that I’d find her another song. The next day I told Paul I wanted a dense wall-of-sound arrangement behind Martha’s vocal, like what Phil Spector was doing in L.A. with groups like the Ronettes.

Riser

The conviction in Martha’s voice told me what was needed—a tight horn arrangement. I liked the music of classical composer Richard Wagner, especially his famous opening for “Ride of the Valkyries.” I had that feel in mind for the six horns on the introduction, like a clarion call. I also overdubbed two more guitarists—Eddie “Chank” Willis, who hit a hard “chank” sound on the second and fourth beats, and Joe Messina, who played jazzy fills to enhance what we had.

Stevenson

When Paul was finished, I overdubbed some percussion, including the claves [two short wooden sticks] on the offbeats and a tambourine hit hard by Jack Ashford with a drumstick on the second and fourth beats to add snap. Paul arranged the background vocals that were overdubbed by Ivy and the Vandellas. To make the tambourine sound even bigger, I fed the track through our echo chamber, which was a hole in the bathroom wall. By rerecording the tambourine track bouncing off that tile wall, we got a bigger dance beat.

Reeves

In August 1966, two years after the song came out, the Vandellas and I were on Dick Clark’s new TV show, Where the Action Is. Dick had moved to Los Angeles by then, and parts of the show were taped outdoors. For the taping, Roz, Betty, and I went to the Roostertail supper club in Detroit. We had performed there many times before. Dick Clark’s producer wanted us to climb a ladder to the flat roof. A phonograph inside played “Dancing in the Street” through outdoor speakers, allowing us to lip-sync and dance. The clip is on YouTube. The Detroit River is in the background and a lawn party is going on below.

Roz and Betty were a bit scared up there, and I gave it all I had to keep from getting blown off that roof by the wind. Crazy, but that’s just how it was.

Donovan and Linda Lawrence at their wedding in Windsor, England, in 1970.

 3:

Sunshine Superman

DONOVAN

Released: July 1966

The first psychedelic hit to top Billboard’s pop chart was “Sunshine Superman,” by Scottish singer-songwriter Donovan Leitch. Written as a valentine to Linda Lawrence, his love interest at the time, the song was recorded in December 1965. That year, a growing number of U.S. and U.K. pop musicians had begun to experiment with LSD, which was legal then.

Many of these artists believed that the psychotropic drug freed them from inhibitions and allowed them to take greater creative risks. Pop-rock songs that reflected the hallucinogenic feel of an acid trip soon followed in 1966. Among them were the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine,” “Good Day Sunshine,” and “I’m Only Sleeping”; the Beach Boys’ “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times” and “Good Vibrations”; and the Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black” and “Lady Jane.”

After “Sunshine Superman” was released in the United States, it reached No. 1 on the Billboard pop chart in September 1966. If the LSD influence in “Sunshine Superman” wasn’t clear enough, the single’s reverse side, “The Trip,” surely was. “Sunshine Superman” also is notable for the overdubbed guitar solo by Jimmy Page, who was a London studio musician at the time before moving on to found Led Zeppelin in 1968.

Donovan

(singer, guitarist, and composer)

I first met Linda Lawrence in March 1965 in the green room of Ready Steady Go!, the British pop TV show. Linda was a friend of one of the cohosts. She had an art-school vibe and, after a brief conversation, I asked her to dance to a soul record playing. As we jazz danced, I fell in love. In the weeks that followed, Linda and I spent time together. She told me she had recently separated from Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones. She said while they never married, they had a one-year-old son named Julian.

After their split, Linda lived quietly at home, building her modeling portfolio. In the spring of ’65, she moved to Los Angeles to find work. Brian wasn’t providing financial support, and Linda wanted to start fresh. She left Julian with her mother until she was settled. That summer, my song “Catch the Wind” became a hit in the U.S., and I wound up in L.A. to promote it. I visited Linda, and we spent many weeks together. I asked her to marry me, but she said she needed time and wanted to remain in California.

I was miserable but undeterred. Back in London, in the early fall of ’65, I lived above the flat of my manager, Ashley Kozak. Missing Linda, I began to write “Sunshine Superman.” In the flat’s main room, I sat cross-legged on a tatami mat and played the cherry-red Gibson J-45 I had bought in L.A. As I wrote the words and music, it became an optimistic heartbreak song. Like many of my songs, it expressed hopeful melancholy.

The second line, “Could’ve tripped out easy a-but I’ve, a-changed my ways,” has nothing to do with an acid trip. It means I could have allowed my thoughts to slip into depression, but I didn’t. I had, of course, tried LSD by then in London. Acid was legal and it was easily available. When I wrote “Sunshine Superman,” I probably had smoked a bit of herb. To take the edge off my long days promoting records, Gyp Mills, my closest friend and flatmate, and I often began the day with a joint.

“Sunshine” was indeed slang for LSD, but the reference was actually about the sun coming through my flat’s window. “Superman” had nothing to do with the superhero or physical power. It’s a reference to the book Thus Spoke Zarathustra, by Friedrich Nietzsche, who wrote about the evolution of consciousness to reach a higher superman state. “Everybody’s hustlin’ just to have a little scene” was about the attention that fame attracts and people who want to be part of that.

“Superman or Green Lantern ain’t got a-nothin’ on me” refers to my childhood obsession with comic books in Glasgow, Scotland. I had become fascinated by the Green Lantern and loved the emerald stone in his ring—a symbol of the Inner Light in all of us. “When you’ve made your mind up forever to be mine” was simply a prediction that, in time, Linda and I would once again be together.

In late 1965, my U.K. manager introduced me to Allen Klein, who advised the Rolling Stones and would later manage the Beatles. Klein introduced me to Mickie Most, a hugely talented English record producer who wanted to work on my upcoming third album. Mickie first asked me to sing a selection of my new songs. Right away, he chose “Sunshine Superman.” It would be the first song we’d record at Abbey Road Studios in December ’65.

Mickie asked me what sort of instrumentation I imagined. I said, “harpsichord, Latin drums, acoustic bass …” Mickie cut me off and said we needed an arranger. He hired John Cameron. My guitar playing always included bass lines, melody lines, and rhythm-guitar grooves. John listened to what I was doing and expanded the parts for the band.

John Cameron

(arranger and keyboardist)

At Abbey Road, I had the song begin with Tony Carr’s conga, Spike Heatley on acoustic bass, and John Paul Jones on electric bass. That set a jazzy, suspenseful mood. Then my harpsichord and Eric Ford’s meowing guitar line came next, giving the song both a heritage and contemporary feel. When Don’s voice and acoustic guitar join in, the song clearly is folk. It’s a fascinating instrumental texture and style progression. Jimmy Page was brought in later to add the rock guitar solo. From the start, Don wanted a light, trippy backdrop—something quite different then. But the psychedelic sound we created was an accident, really. I had never taken LSD, so I had no idea how an acid trip would translate into music. We were just shooting for a mystical feel.

Donovan

With Jimmy’s guitar and John on electric bass, I had half of the future Led Zeppelin on the session. The album version of the song ran 4:42 but was cut down to 3:14 for the single. At the end of the longer version, you can just barely hear me say, “Hello John, hello Paul.” I had met the Beatles by then. When the album was completed in May 1966, a legal battle began. I had become the first artist signed to Clive Davis’s Epic Records in the States. Pye Records, my label in the U.K., sued, which meant that the “Sunshine Superman” single and album were held up. Legal matters were eventually resolved.

Originally, when we recorded “Sunshine Superman,” it had a subtitle—“For John and Paul.” But we dropped it. When the album was temporarily delayed in ’66, Mickie begged me not to play “Sunshine Superman” for Paul [McCartney]. Mickie knew we had an innovative album, and he was afraid Paul would like it and be inspired. I played the album for Paul anyway. “Sunshine Superman” was a pioneering work that for the first time presented a fusion of Celtic, jazz, folk, rock, and Indian music as well as poetry. Paul liked it.

As the court case dragged on in early ’66, Gyp and I decided to take a break. We went to Paros, a secluded island in Greece. One day in September, a call came for me at the village’s only taverna. It was Ashley, my U.K. manager. “Get to Athens as soon as you can,” he said. “There are two first-class plane tickets to London waiting for you. ‘Sunshine Superman’ is No. 1 in the States and in the Top 5 all over the world.” From London, I flew to New York to promote the album and then on to L.A., where I first heard it on KRLA in a rented Ford Mustang. Linda, of course, was on my mind. I knew she would realize the song was about us. Five other songs on the album also were written for her.

By 1970, I had recorded six more albums and had toured to support them. I was exhausted, so I decided to retreat to the woods of Hertfordshire, England, where I had a little cottage that I rented out when I was away on tour. One day, not long after I returned, I was sleeping upstairs when I heard a car pull up. As I came down the stairs, the front door opened and Lorey, a friend of mine, breezed in. With her was Linda, who had assumed I was away and was considering renting the place. Linda and I were both in awe.

I gave Linda a hug. Then I grabbed my guitar and we walked into the woods to a field, where we sat down. I sang her a song I was writing. A cow came along and licked her on the face and walked off. We laughed. Soon after, Linda and I moved in together with Julian, and we married on October 2, 1970. Linda and I have been together ever since.

Linda Lawrence

(Donovan’s wife)

The first time I met Don on Ready Steady Go!, I felt something deep. But I had a young son then and I was only seventeen and a half. I needed time after Brian [Jones] and I split up. Don courted me all that summer in London and asked me to marry him when he was in L.A. I wasn’t ready. Don was heartbroken, but I did love him. When I first arrived in L.A., I had cashed in my return ticket and rented an apartment on the Sunset Strip. Then my London modeling portfolio was stolen and so were the lovely lace and velvet clothes Don had bought me. I couldn’t land modeling work easily, so I supported myself by making clothes and cutting hair.

One day in 1966, I was home with my best friend, Cathy, when “Sunshine Superman” came on the radio. At the end, Cathy just looked at me. “Oh my God,” she said. “He still loves you.”

Brian Wilson, left, and Al Jardine with the Beach Boys, rear, in 1966.

 4:

Good Vibrations

THE BEACH BOYS

Released: October 1966

Using the recording studio as a lab to weave musical fragments and instrumental textures into a fully realized pop song began with the Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations.” Predating the Beatles’ recording of their Sgt. Pepper album by a year, the song was produced by Brian Wilson over the course of seven months in 1966 at an estimated cost of more than $400,000 in today’s dollars—a record at the time for a single.

Despite the towering expense, the euphoric psychedelic-pop love song with densely layered instrumentals and flower power vocal harmonies pioneered new standards for recording and experimentation. At first considered for inclusion on the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds and then expected on the ill-fated but never-completed Beach Boys’ Smile album, the song cowritten by Brian Wilson and Mike Love was initially released as a single in October 1966.

Internal bickering among the Beach Boys and legal clashes between the band and Capitol had caused Smile’s delivery deadline to be extended into 1967. Then Wilson and Van Dyke Parks, Wilson’s collaborator on many of Smile’s songs, had a falling out. “Good Vibrations” would wind up on the Beach Boys’ Smiley Smile album in September 1967. The song quickly became a summer anthem and was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1994. It remains a transformative work that changed how pop music was recorded, elevating the value of emotive mood pieces and experimental studio techniques.

Brian Wilson

(Beach Boys singer, producer, and composer)

When I was fourteen, a neighbor’s dog barked at my mom. I couldn’t figure out why. My mom said, “Brian, sometimes dogs pick up vibrations from people. If they feel threatened, they bark.” About nine years later, in 1965, I was at home at my piano in L.A. after smoking a joint. I wrote a chord pattern for a song based on what my mom had said about vibrations.

Mike Love

(Beach Boys singer and lyricist)

At the end of 1964, Brian no longer wanted to tour with the Beach Boys. The stress of the planes, airports, and screaming fans at concerts was too much for him. So when the band went on tour in ’65, Brian stayed in L.A. and wrote, arranged, and produced songs for us. We added our vocals when we returned from the road.

Wilson

When rehearsals began for “Good Vibrations” at Western Recorders [in February 1966], I used many of the same great studio musicians I had been recording with for several years. Most had worked with [producer] Phil Spector. I watched Phil work at Gold Star Studios in the early ’60s and was blown away. Phil was a master. He combined guitars and pianos to create brand-new sounds. That’s what I wanted to do on “Good Vibrations”—but much bigger and better.

Hal Blaine

(studio drummer)

We did more than twenty instrumental sessions for “Good Vibrations.” At some, we’d record just four bars. Other sessions went on all day. The musicians got Brian’s genius. He’d come in with musical parts written out, and we’d play them as written. Then he’d sit with us to explain the feel he wanted and listen to suggestions. He knew exactly where that song was going.

Don Randi

(studio keyboardist)

There were no vocals when I recorded on “Good Vibrations.” Occasionally, I’d hear Brian in the control room singing falsetto over the monitor speaker as we played. I guess he was test-driving what we were doing. At one point, Brian wanted me to hold down a bass pedal on the Hammond organ for a long, drawn-out tone. There were screens in front of me to isolate the organ’s sound, so Brian and I couldn’t see each other. I just heard him over the studio’s monitor speaker. He asked me to do this over and over again. Finally, I leaned over and grabbed a pillow. I set it on the pedal, rested my head, and conked out for about a minute. I woke up when Brian came on the speaker and said, “Don, that was great, thanks.”

Wilson

Combining a cello and Electro-Theremin on the song’s chorus was my brother Carl’s idea. When I put the two instruments together in the studio early on, we wound up with this cool vibrating sound, like a humming sonic wave [he illustrates the wave with his hand].

Al Jardine

(Beach Boys singer and guitarist)

At the time, we were recording a lot of material for Pet Sounds. But Brian wanted to hold “Good Vibrations” for Smile, our next scheduled album. We begged Brian to put “Good Vibrations” on Pet Sounds, due for release in May. But Brian felt the song was too far-out for the album. Capitol was reluctant to release Pet Sounds without a hit single, so they inserted “Sloop John B,” our cover of the Kingston Trio’s “Wreck of the John B.” This gave Brian the entire summer of ’66 to work on “Good Vibrations.”

Wilson

Eventually, I needed lyrics for the song. I was writing with Tony Asher then, who I had met months earlier.

Tony Asher

(initial lyricist)

I first met Brian in the fall of ’65, at Western Recorders, when I was working for the Carson/Roberts ad agency. I already knew who he was. Brian was funny. When I told him I wrote jingles, he said, “I’d love to do some jingles, man.” He asked if I also wrote song lyrics. I said for him I’d give it a try. Soon after, he called and asked me to come over to his house. When I arrived, we talked for an hour. Then he got a demo of the music he had been working on for the Beach Boys’ next album, Pet Sounds. We started tinkering with a song.

Wilson

That afternoon, we had “God Only Knows” written in a half hour. Tony was amazing. Over the coming months, Tony wrote the lyrics to most of the songs on Pet Sounds.

Asher

At some point, Brian asked me to write lyrics for a song called “Good Vibes.” He had a tape of the music, and I took it home. I felt that “vibes” was a cheap word and trivialized the song. I suggested “vibrations.” My lyrics to the first verse and chorus were: “She’s already working on my brain/I only looked in her eyes/But I picked up something I just can’t explain/I pick up good, good, good, good vibrations, yeah.” But it wasn’t quite gelling, and we set it aside.

Wilson

Tony’s original lyrics were good. The reason I asked Mike [Love] for lyrics had nothing to do with Tony’s. I just wanted to see what Mike had. In the end, I liked Mike’s better. They were more poetic for a song about good vibrations, you know? And “excitations” was very off the wall [he laughs].

Love