The Righteous Brothers: "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling"

January 25, 1965 (1 week)

I've been down on Phil Spector in this space so far and with good reason. Long before he killed anyone I was skeptical of him. A little of that patented Wall of Sound was always something that could go a long way. (I still can't get the whole way through his overrated Christmas album) Plus — and, again, murder aside — he was a colossal douchebag. The man didn't give a shit about getting the best out of the artists he was working with; rather, he figured that he was the artist and the musicians and vocalists were his tools. Jesus, just writing this is making me furious.

Spector makes for an interesting comparison with George Martin who happened to be the (sort of) subject of the last entry here. While the former desired everyone cater to his whims as a sensitive "artiste", the latter gave his skills over to the acts he oversaw. As it happened, the well-spoken gentlemanly Englishman wasn't able to get all that much good out of producing Gerry and the Pacemakers proving that a producer is only as good as the people they're producing. Which brings us to Phil Spector helming the record of a lifetime with a skilled vocal duo, some of the finest studio musicians around and a first rate composition. He may have tried to make everything about himself but he was but one of many factors as to why "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" is so remarkable.

The song opens with the tall, dark Righteous Brother, Bill Medley, delivering one of pop's most unforgettable lines: "you never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips". (Bill must've had his own eyes open since how else would he have known? What if she had been thinking the exact same thing?) Even with his distinctive rumbling baritone it sounds like he's been slowed down a notch or two, a studio trick that Spector would have been familiar with. Though clearly a duo, this is effectively a solo performance which didn't please partner Bobby Hatfield too much. (The fact that he got the bulk of the singing duties for follow up "Unchained Melody" probably dulled his bitterness considerably) 

For what is basically an over-the-top lovesick lament, the lyrics on the whole are superb. Not deep or especially profound but they do convey that bleak, empty feeling when love turns sour. There's nothing in the way of self-reflection (as I said above, everything wrong with this relationship is down to her) which I think makes this a very distinctly male song of heartbreak. The hopefulness of it's conclusion — 'bring back that lovin' feeling' having replaced 'you've lost that...' — is somewhat tempered by the implication that the guy in this pairing isn't going to do a damn thing to try to salvage it. (To be fair, he probably never did the dishes either so why should he be expected to lift a finger now?)

As always, Spector packed a great deal into his arrangement but, thankfully, the bulk of it is kept to the background and, crucially, is at the service of the overall recording. It's as if for once in his life Spector managed to come to the realization that not everything is about him. You scarcely even notice the Wall of Sound, which is something I wish he had done more often. In a way his real kindred spirit in the world of sonic production was Lee "Scratch" Perry, an individual who also left his fingerprints all over the recordings he worked on. The artists were replaceable; they were the ones that mattered in their minds. But just as a stopped clock is right twice a day, a production wizard with an overinflated sense of self-importance can still occasionally put out some terrific music.

Apparently, "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" has been ruined for some. It's supposedly memorable use in eighties picture Top Gun seemed to close the lid on virtually anyone from Generation X ever being able to listen to it again. Luckily for me, I'm much more of a music guy than a film buff and I can barely remember that stupid movie. (No doubt my contemporaries will have a far warmer association with the use of "Unchained Melody" in 1990's Ghost, a film I've never even seen) Plus, it is said to have been the most played song on American radio over the course of the entire twentieth century so there's always the chance a few people have grown sick to death of it over the years. Only a great song could withstand all that; fortunately, that's exactly what this is.

Score: 9