Sonny and Cher: "Baby Don't Go"

October 11, 1965 (2 weeks)

Andy Stewart. The Beatles. Sonny Bono. One of them is not like the others.

Yes, the Fab Four are the odd ones out here. They are the only act listed who people might have guessed would have replaced themselves at number one on Canada's charts. If someone asked you who the other two might have been in the cumulative eight years of CHUM and RPM listings, I'm sure most would guess Elvis Presley. He did have back-to-back chart toppers in the US during Billboard's pre-Hot 100 era so it wouldn't have been totally unexpected for him to have pulled off something similar up north. As for the other? The Everly Brothers? The Supremes? I don't know, Elvis and The Beatles are the only people who had any business achieving such a feat.

Nevertheless, in the early part of October of 1965, Sonny Bono replaced himself at the top of the RPM Top 40 - and he did so in the unique position of being a solo artist on one and in a group on the other. Sonny and Cher would blur the lines between their work together and what they did on their own (with solo and group releases appearing on albums together) and "Baby Don't Go" is sort of an example of this. While I have no doubt that his nibs appears on it, there's little trace of his voice. Perhaps it's "I Got You Babe" being their best-known and most popular song but it sort of feels like a Sonny and Cher number ought to involve the pair singing in tandem.

Still, considering what a modest singing voice Bono had, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Unfortunately, Cher does it no favours with a very average performance on her part. Sure, she was just eighteen at the time and it wasn't like she ever had the greatest voice — though oddly enough she's always had a powerful voice — but it she's not doing her part to carry a song then there's not much to be hopeful for.

Which leads us back to Sonny for the one saving grace - and that's only up to a point. "Baby Don't Go" has a rather nifty tune. Not startling or especially original but that piano shuffle really holds it together. With its steady pace and almost reggae-like rhythm guitar, it sounds like a ramshackle take on contemporary Motown. The harmonica doesn't add a whole lot (though it doesn't detract from it either) but the brief electric guitar parts give it an exotic, Mediterranean aura. Again, it's not exactly mind-blowing or anything but the music and composition hold up while the singing falls flat.

Along with pulling off a rare back-to-back number ones parlour trick, Sonny Bono also has the distinction of being tied with both The Beatles and Herman's Hermits for having the most chart toppers in Canada in 1965. He won't be coming up again in this space though he probably will be mentioned when his ex Cher gets dealt with on her own. (Spoiler altert: she'll be coming up several times though not to an obscene extent) I haven't spoken all that highly of him but I think I've been fair in according him grudging respect. Never much suited for the spotlight — though this never stopped him from pursuing it — Sonny did well behind the scenes. He was a capable songwriter and a much stronger producer than most give him credit for. Plus, he had the winning personality of someone who'd lucked their way through life and was grateful for it. His music isn't my kind of thing but props nonetheless.

Score: 4

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C'Mon, Be a CHUM!

In a year in which Canadians opted against brilliant and groundbreaking singles by the likes of The Byrds, The Four Tops, The Rolling Stones and The Temptations, even The Beatles weren't immune from being dismissed. This week's CHUM hit parade was topped by the Fabs with the unlikely double of "Yesterday" and "Act Naturally". I say unlikely because there's no way The Beatles would've sanctioned their cover of the Buck Owens hit had they wanted Paul McCartney's famous love song to be released as a single. My money would've been on them putting a John Lennon number like "It's Only Love" on the flip to appease his ego. (Either that or he would've composed something fresh to compete with "Yesterday") Unreleased in the UK until 1976 (it peaked at number eight), there was enough interest in it in North America for it to be put out on its own in the autumn of '65. While it topped the Hot 100 for the better part of a month, it could do no better than number four up in Canada, which was tantamount to a flop. Like a lot of the more overplayed and overhyped Beatles' tracks, it can be easy to dismiss but it's hard to argue with. I don't think it really needed to be a single but I will certainly acknowledge that the Fabs' discography would be weaker without it. And it would've been a better number one than bloody "Baby Don't Go".

Sonny: "Laugh at Me"

October 4, 1965 (1 week)

With the possible exception of the British royal family, Sonny Bono is probably the first person I was aware of who was famous for being famous. He'd make guest spots on sitcoms and appear in seemingly random awards ceremonies and telethons but I could never quite figure out why this individual was supposed to mean anything to me. My parents would tell me that he was once in a duo with his ex-wife Cher, who I did know of, and that they had a TV variety show but everything notable about him had been in the past.

To his credit, Sonny seemed aware of this. He was always self-deprecating, much like professional baseball player-turned-sit com star/all-around cheerful fella Bob Uecker. (In an episode of the Golden Girls, Bono appears alongside actor Lyle Waggoner as a pair of suitors competing for the affection of Dorothy; in one back-and-forth, he says, "Oh, insults from Lyle Waggoner, huh? How many gold records do you have?" to which his rival responds, "None, I was never married") He didn't seem particularly talented in any regard but everyone seemed to go along with him anyway. He wasn't much to look at but he had a cheeky personality. If Ringo Starr was the ultimate lovable loser in showbusiness, Sonny was just a notch below.

I have a soft spot for people who make the most of their fame and seem to appreciate every second of it. There may not be a better example of this that Sonny Bono. There's just one small problem and that's his one solo hit being an absolute giant pile of suck.

Well, let me walk that back ever so slightly, since you'll no doubt see the score below which isn't the absolute lowest of the low — even if it isn't too far off. Sonny does his best to sell it and I imagine he knew that what he was selling wasn't worth a damn. Doing his best Bob Dylan impersonation, he oversells the vitriol rather than hamming it up. Since he was already driving into the skid by inviting everyone's derision in "Laugh at Me", he should have gone the whole way by playing up the joke while he was at it. In an outtake from their Party! project, The Beach Boys took a wack at it. To his credit, singer Mike Love — an individual with far less charm than Sonny — plays up the humour, giving an over-long intro (taking Sonny's "I want to say it for Cher" bit and stretching it out to cover Al, Carl, Denny, Brian, Bruce and Glenn) and doing a deliberately lame Dylan. Silly but that's the way it should be.

If Mike Love of all people could make it into a lighthearted joke then Sonny Bono could've done the same. And, hey, for all I know that is indeed what he was going for but somehow I doubt it. As I've already said, the man had a sense of humour and was not above taking the piss out of himself. (On a Sonny and Cher live album, he introduces "Laugh at Me" with the line "I'll do a medley of my hit") But this just sounds like the sneering straights had gotten to him and his hippie clothes. Either that or he fancied his chances for solo stardom and didn't want to ruin it with a comedy number, even though I prefer his chances had he released recordings of song parodies and skits. I probably wouldn't have found it funny myself I think that potential audience would have been out there.

People may have been laughing at Sonny Bono but there's not much chance they found this effort all that amusing. Not only does he manage to do a poor impression of Dylan, he somehow even succeeded in making "Laugh at Me" far more excruciating than anything the former Robert Zimmerman ever put to tape. If a pop song by Sonny Bono of all people isn't engaging and isn't funny then what we are doing here?

Yet, it caught on enough to give him a number one hit in Canada while also making the Top 10 in the US and UK. His newfound fame alongside Cher would've no doubt helped and "Laugh at Me" does smartly latch onto the contemporary folk boom. The man knew when to jump on a bandwagon and he was clever enough to know how to flood the market. While "Laugh at Me" was climbing the Canadian charts, it was joined by a reissue of an earlier Sonny and Cher single from 1964 that didn't initially do much. After just one week of his solo excursion at number one, she would be right there with him on top. For good or bad, the beat went on and on and on...

Score: 2

Roy Orbison: "Ride Away"

September 27, 1965 (1 week)

As an individual with a vast catalog of popular songs, it should be no surprise that Roy Orbison managed to top Canada's singles charts on three occasions — if not a few more. I would've expected "Only the Lonely" or "Crying" to have made to number one but those two classics of the early rock 'n' roll era came up short. Nope, after "Running Scared" and "Oh, Pretty Woman", the Big O's final time on the summit north of the border was with "Ride Away".

Wait, what? "Ride Away"? As someone who has thought very highly of Orbison for a number of years — albeit without ever having been heavily into the man at any point — I can honestly say I had never heard of it until I began planning this review. I daresay I'm not alone in this regard. Click on the link to this single on the Wikipedia page List of number-one singles of 1965 (Canada) and you'll be sent to the page for parent album There Is Only One Roy Orbison.

Audiences in other parts of the world reacted to just another Orbison single in a much more measured manner: its chart positions in Australia, the US and the UK were fifteen, twenty-five and thirty-four respectively. Yet, Canadians went against the grain to take "Ride Away" all the way to the top. Had this occurred in the midst of an imperial period of half-a-dozen or so other number ones, then having a good if surprisingly forgettable single like this hit the summit would have made more sense. In this instance, however, it just seems random.

I'm of two minds when it comes to this one. On the one hand, it's great, if a little understated. I found it a little underwhelming at first and I felt the adrift country and western sound to be something of an anachronism by the standards of 1965. The Canadian charts of the late fifties and early sixties had been awash in these tunes — including CHUM chart number ones "The Battle of New Orleans" by Johnny Horton, "Running Bear" by Johnny Preston and "Please Help Me, I'm Falling" by Hank Locklin — but they had become one of the victims of the British Invasion by this time. (Contributing to this was the fact that RPM magazine had introduced the country music singles charts in 1964 which meant that C&W artists were going to have a much more difficult time trying to crack the mainstream pop charts) After a few listens, "Ride Away" begins to reveal itself as a tender lament from the road. It won't be anyone's favourite of his but how could anyone object to it either?

My issue with it is that it's too understated (yes, I know that I just said that it's 'a little understated', I just didn't want to overstate its understatedness); it scarcely sounds like a single at all. Orbison was a figure who demanded to be listened to but he wasn't the sort to go out of his way to get audiences to pay attention: the onus was on one person and it wasn't about to be him. "Ride Away" lacks hooks and fails to stand out, just a typically top notch Orbison number in a world already awash in them. From the evidence of his current work, he didn't seem especially concerned about The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones or the many notable groups on the Motown label: some or all of them may have been influenced by him but they didn't seem to be making a similar. Thrilling or not, he was doing what Roy Orbison did best: lovingly made downhome pop from the perspective of a country balladeer.

Orbison's commercial peak had ended but he was still releasing high quality music. Things would begin to unravel for him when his wife Claudette was killed when her motorbike was struck by a pickup truck. Two years later, he would experience more tragedy when his two eldest sons died in a fire. Yet, he soldiered on until his own passing at the end of 1988. It was only in the aftermath of his death that many began to realize just how much he meant to them — and, indeed, to the music world in general. I wish I could be writing about him more in this space but this will have to do.

Score: 7

The Fortunes: "You've Got Your Troubles"

September 20, 1965 (1 week)

Dissatisfied with life on the road, Brian Wilson decided to make a couple changes in his life in 1965 and '66. The first was to quit being a member of The Beach Boys' touring ensemble. He'd remain an entrenched member of the group on their studio recordings but his days on the road were over — at least for now. The other big change he made was to shake things up on the collaboration front. While he wasn't done completely with cousin Mike Love in that regard (for good or bad), his normal songwriting partner had touring commitments so Wilson sought a new lyricist to better express some of the troubled star's deepest thoughts and feelings.

Enter Tony Asher. Born in England at the start of the Second World War, he moved with his mother to her native California when he was just an infant. He had a pretty normal upbringing and was smart and lucky enough to get to attend university at a time when not many people had that privilege. He earned a degree and then went into advertising, a growth industry during an era in which television was becoming increasingly prominent. Then, in his mid-twenties, he met Brian Wilson and suddenly found himself in the inner circle of The Beach Boys as the lyricist of their most celebrated album release, Pet Sounds.

The use of an advertising copywriter to play a crucial role in the pop song composition process was not hidden from the public at the time. If anything, it was celebrated and this has only grown as more and more critics and fans grew to appreciate such a monumental album. (In the 2004 book Kill Your Idols, music writer Jeff Nordstedt describes this arrangement as "bizarre", considering it to be something which "offends every notion of truth that I hold dear about rock 'n' roll" which seems like an overstatement if you ask me) Among its many innovations, Pet Sounds married pop and advertising. But was this really such a novelty? Didn't the music industry and advertising share a great deal more in common back in those days then people may have assumed?

The English duo of Roger Cook and Roger Greenway had both been accomplished singers who would soon form a duo of their own known as Jonathon and David (Roger and Roger plainly wasn't good enough). They'll be coming up in this space before long but their real forte was in songwriting. While many rock-era compositional duos stuck to a formula, they had a facility with all sorts of genres. (I used to always think that "Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart", a single they gave to Gene Pitney, was actually a Bachrach-David number) There were only two things that seemed to matter: their songs were catchy and you'd easily remember them. (To be fair, Cook and Greenway didn't become associated with advertising jingles until "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" became an entrenched part of the Coca-Cola brand and that admittedly very big advert was almost a one off for them)

What's amazing about "You've Got Your Troubles" is that it could come straight out of a silly TV commercial. (Picture it: a dual-income couple coming home from work only for both of them getting their nice clothes dirty — him from spilling spaghetti sauce all over his favourite shirt (the klutzy old fart!), her from an ink stain on her best blouse; they both dash to the washing machine only to discover that their twin laundry emergencies are hampered by a reluctance to wash two separate colours in the same load; but, hark!, here comes Douse to save the day! — Don't discriminate, mix your clothes with Douse!; "you've got your troubles, I've got mine"...I really did miss my calling as a high-powered advertising exec) While Wilson and Asher pulled off the impressive feat of having the songs on Pet Sounds become an advertisement for longing and teen heartbreak, I can't quite escape the feeling that I'm being so something else when it comes to "You've Got Your Troubles".

Nice as it is, maybe that's why I can't quite take it seriously. Cook and Greenway composed a very sturdy number with "You've Got Your Troubles" and The Fortunes (oh yes, the band that actually recorded it, I really should have got round to bringing them up for a bit, shouldn't I?) do what they're supposed to do. It's a pretty good song, one that I have had no trouble forgetting — so well done to all concerned. I admire the craft and find the song itself to be a perfectly hummable earworm but there's little need to go any further. Like most TV jingles, good or bad, this is the kind of thing that can be dispensed with little trouble.

Score: 6

Barry McGuire: "Eve of Destruction"

September 13, 1965 (1 week)

For this entry, I'd like to look at two versions of "Eve of Destruction" as well as its fairly notable response song. I started off with the intention of writing them as though they were meant to be reviews in some cheesy teenage pop and rock magazine from the mid-sixties but I found myself adding in an awful lot of myself. As such, read them as if I had been a music journalist back then but who had the same perspective I have now. Not ideal, I know, but those damn Spokesmen below make my blood boil. Reply songs are pointless for the most part but they take on a sinister tone when they're written from viewpoint of people defending the establishment with little more than the desire to shit of those who oppose them.

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The Turtles: "Eve of Destruction"

The Turtles give us something of a campfire singalong with their latest single release. It's not as immediately appealing as their summer hit "It Ain't Me Babe". Rather, they take its hard-hitting chorus and apply it to the entire song. That's certainly one way to approach it but it doesn't play to the group's strengths which are more about those lovely harmonies of theirs. Lead singer Howard Kaylan sounds all gooey and innocent at the start, as if trying to impart just how scared young men going off to Southeast Asia to fight in a war they're either against or, at best, ambivalent about must feel. Then he starts to pick up the intensity with his fellow Turtles and it's all ugliness and warfare. I kind of like this one even if I'm starting to think that it's a composition that no one can quite nail down in that sweet spot.

Barry McGuire: "Eve of Destruction"

You might not remember but Barry McGuire was once a member of The New Christy Minstrels, who had a hit a couple years back with "Green, Green". While everyone else sang like angels, he sounded like he had a mouthful of bumble bees which must've been why they gave him lead vocal duties. It was perhaps for the best that he wound up leaving them last year. I wonder if he heard The Turtles' version and said, "It's okay, I got this one".  The man is desperate. He exudes sincerity. Too much sincerity, if you ask me. Something tells me he can sing an awful lot better than he lets on. But don't get me wrong: this is about arresting as pop songs come. It's scarcely a pop song at all. I guess it's more like one of those folk music protest songs that Bob Dylan used to write until he got into The Beatles last year. Protest songs have their place but it's still just music at the end of the day. While I can empathize with McGuire's plight, he doesn't make for the easiest or most compelling listen. Maybe I'm no supposed to enjoy it, per se, but that begs the question: why the hell am I listening to the bloody thing in the first place?

The Spokesmen: "The Dawn of Correction"

You'll be doubled-over in laughter when you hear "The Dawn of Correction" for the first time. Not, mind you, because it's a genuinely funny reply record but because this silly and feeble group who call themselves The Spokesmen are convinced they're being clever. Had they been joshing among themselves in a bar or cafe or rumpus room then I might appreciate the sentiment but they didn't have to write and record the bloody thing. Apparently, young high school grads getting sent to die in 'Nam needn't sweat over not having the right to vote. Thanks for clearing that one up, guys. "Be thankful that our country allows demonstrations": oh joy, conservatives once again reminding us that others gave up their lives so we can be free. Does this mean we shouldn't be protesting or were the wars of the past just as useless as the one currently going on and they needn't have bothered going? "I don't understand the cause of your aggravation": well, that makes you qualified to be performing a counter-protest anthem, doesn't it? Way to read the room and go for a little understanding there, ya big bunch of right-wing fuck sticks. (On the bright side, at least it makes me a little more well-disposed towards McGuire's "Eve of Destruction", so if that's what they were going for, well done lads!)

Score: 5

Eddie Rambeau: "My Name Is Mud"

September 7, 1965 (1 week)

On the week of August 31, 1965, the Top 3 on the RPM singles charts was as follows:

1. The Beatles: "Help!"

2. The Beach Boys: "California Girls"

3. Bob Dylan: "Like a Rolling Stone"

Pretty unbeatable, huh? Yet, a week later they were all off the Canadian hit parade, victims of the bizarre rule of the time that stated that a drop down meant that you were done for good. (Because moving down one spot and then going back up has never occurred in the history of the pop charts) Still, there were some other solid contenders. Going from number six to number three was "It's the Same Old Song" by The Four Tops, one of many bangers from what is perhaps the finest singles band of all time. Up from eleven to five was "Tracks of My Tears" by The Miracles, another phenomenal recording. Making a ten point leap to number eight is "We Gotta Get Out of This Place" by The Animals. Down near the bottom is a new entry for The Lovin' Spoonful with "Do You Believe in Magic?". Instead, the chart topper for the first week of September, 1965 was "My Name Is Mud" by Eddie Rambeau, who...checks notes...isn't currently in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Having already reached the top of the Canadian charts that spring in the unique situation of having to share the number one spot with English group Unit 4 + 2, Rambeau was quickly becoming better known north of the border than in his native United States. His version of "Concrete and Clay" had to jockey with Unit 4 + 2's original on the Hot 100 which did neither of them any favours Stateside. In Canada, however, the two sailed all the way up to the top of the charts together which seemed to give them both a boost. While Unit 4 + 2's follow-up single "(You've) Never Been in Love Like This Before" only just dented the bottom end of the American charts, it managed to go all the way to number six in Canada; for his part, Rambeau's "My Name Is Mud" could do no better than a lowly number one hundred and twelve on Billboard, a far cry from topping the RPM charts.

While Unit 4 + 2 chose to go in a different direction with "Never Been in Love Like This Before", Rambeau evidently decided just to do more of the same with his follow-up. Though I may admire the brave creative move on the part of the former, the latter comes out slightly ahead because "My Name Is Mud" is a better. A brazen copycat of "Concrete and Clay" it may have been but it's a rather well made copycat, one that tops his recording of that song. It isn't nearly as good as Unit 4 + 2's version but for Rambeau to have pulled off an improvement on his rather drab hit single is nothing to scoff at.

Where his "Concrete and Clay" seemed stiff and lacking character, "My Name Is Mud" has some spring in its step and Rambeau seems happy to be part of it. Perhaps it was given more care because it was an original creation of Rambeau along with Bob Crewe and Bud Rehak, like they took what they did with the cover version a few months' earlier and just refined it into something light and charming. A minor bit of fun that certainly deserved to finished much closer to its Canadian peak than its sad end result down in the States.

Score: 6

The Beatles: "Help!"

August 31, 1965 (1 week)

John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band is a deeply fascinating and influential album, though I wouldn't quite say flawless. It is basically John Lennon inventing the confessional album, something which would impact everything from folk music to grunge. With highlights such as the harrowing "Mother", the bitter "Working Class Hero" and the beautifully poetic "Love", it is one of the strongest solo releases from a Beatle. On the other hand, Lennon's pain doesn't always make for easy listening.

The Plastic Ono Band album shocked critics and fans back in 1970 and it still has the power to provoke feelings fifty-five years later but it didn't come out of nowhere. By means of promotion (of a sort at any rate), Lennon sat down with Rolling Stone magazine's founder and editor Jann Wenner and torched his now former band's legacy. It is an extraordinary interview, one that is only slightly tempered by the numerous half-truths and outright fabrications the troubled singer shared, many of which he would later recant. Of more relevance to this review is what Lennon had to say about the songs he wrote and performed with the Fab Four that still meant a great deal to him. "I always liked "Walrus", "Strawberry Fields", "Help", "In My Life", those are some favorites," he told Wenner.

Presumably the other three songs were self-evidently brilliant because Wenner followed-up by asking simply, "Why "Help"?" Being in an especially post-breakup, primal scream therapy no-nonsense kind of mood, Lennon responded that he liked it because it was "real" before pointing out that it made him "feel secure to know that I was that aware of myself then". When he sang "Help!" he meant it. A favorite it may have been but Lennon just had to be prickly because of course he had to be. "I don't like the recording that much," he complained, "we did it too fast trying to be commercial".

Lennon's issues with one of his favourite compositions has clouded people's perception of "Help!" ever since. He had intended it to be slower but then he supposedly gave in to commercial pressure to make it more in line with The Beatles' patented beat music. It's a good story but a couple things need to be considered. First, Lennon by this point had been a regular dope smoker and was beginning to dabble in LSD. "Help!"'s slower pace early on could be down to being stoned. In addition, "Please Please Me" had also been intended to be more relaxed so this may just be the way Lennon operated, whether on chemical substances or not.

No one back in 1965 felt that "Help!" was held back by having heartfelt lyrics which clash with its jaunty melody but that is how many have heard it since the Rolling Stone interview. Even those who come away with a largely positive view of the song feel it is necessary to bring it up. But as Ian MacDonald notes in Revolution in the Head, it "retains its authenticity through the emotions inits author's voice". Though wealthy and with his creativity hitting a peak, he was unfulfilled in his personal life and it's likely that the touring was really beginning to take its toll on him. Sped up or not, you get that from listening to every wail and plea coming from Lennon's increasingly raspy voice.

Yet, many feel the need to point out this very trivial incongruity between the lyrics and music. Both Tom Breihan and Tom Ewing feel the need to point it out even though they both eventually acknowledge that in the end it's a point in its favour. A jolly tune with a depressed message? Uh, yeah, that's called pop music. No one I'm aware of feels the need to make a similar observation about ABBA's masterclass single "Knowing Me Knowing You" which operates along much the same dynamic. I have said before that groups whose mandate seems to be to bring joy to the masses, often cloak their melancholy in one way or another. But really, the most effective way of going about doing so is through a glorious pop tune. The Beatles, ABBA, Blondie, Madness, Pet Shop Boys, Duran Duran, Wham!, 

It's hard to imagine "Help!" being many people's favourite Beatles' song. (It isn't even the strongest number on the album of the same name: both "Ticket to Ride" and "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" are superior Lennnon contributions while Paul McCartney's "I've Just Seen a Face" and "Yesterday" are at least equal to it) Yet, it is one of the Fab Four's bedrock songs, like "She Loves You", "A Day in the Life" and "Hey Jude". The group wasn't the same from this point forward and pop/rock music was left similarly altered. In a recent Mojo article, John Harris described it as the birth of angst-rock which Lennon would return to on future composition "Yer Blues". From there, it wasn't long before he had gone full inner turmoil with John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band.

John Lennon never did re-record "Help!" nor did he ever get round to redoing other Fabs classics such as "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and "Strawberry Fields Forever". It's impossible to say if he ever would have gone back to them. While it's easy to imagine he and McCartney playing an MTV Unplugged show with a radically altered "Help!" (not unlike the way his old pal Eric Clapton managed to rework his old rock classic "Layla"), I don't know if it would have gone over that well in the longterm though. People like what they're used to. Whatever the critics and Lennon - his own worst critic - had to say, "Help!" is great just the way it always has been: as terrific, bouncy pop with a dark heart. No one made this type of music quite like John Lennon.

Score: 9

Sonny and Cher: "I Got You Babe"

August 23, 1965 (1 week)

One's association with Cher really seems to depend on their generation and/or interests. Baby Boomers probably still think of "I Got You Babe" whenever her name is mentioned or perhaps "Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves", a future entry on this blog, comes to mind for some. For those who are more inclined to TV than music, The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour is probably what springs to mind. Movie buffs will likely think of Mask and Moonstruck. "If I Could Turn Back Time" and "Just Like Jesse James" are the songs Generation Xer's probably most readily identify with her. Millenials have "Believe", which may actually be the most enduring of all of her many projects. Finally, there's those who love star gossip, a topic she has long been connected to.

But my chief association with Cher is that we "share" - see what I did there? - the same birthday, May 20th. There are a handful of others I prefer (economist John Stuart Mill, hockey player Stan Mikita, singers Israel "Bruddah Iz" Kamakawiwo'ole and Nick Heyward) but she's the first one I think of because it feels like I've always known we were born on the same day (albeit thirty-one years apart). Plus, she's by far the most famous.

If it feels like Cher has always been famous then I don't blame you. It's hard to imagine a time when she wasn't a thing. Even during one of her many personal and/or professional valleys — her disasterous second marriage to Gregg Allman and the even worse album they made together, her post-Oscar win cinematic decline, pretty much everything since "Believe" — she still always seemed relevant. As opposed to the similarly mononymed Madonna, Cher has never been seen to be in control of every step her career has taken. When she falters, it's as though it was an inevitability; when she returns, people seem astonished that she has once again made another unlikely comeback.

Admiration for Cher is one thing but when it's a whole other matter when it comes to appreciating her music — and this is something that has always been present. If anything, it was even more of a task back in the sixties since she was saddled with Sonny, an individual of even more modest talents who lacked his partner's charisma. But Sonny Bono made up for it with a lengthy and varied career of his own based at least in part on shear dumb luck. He had abilities of his own in songwriting and producing but the fact that he pulled off the transition to having the spotlight placed on him for a good chunk of his life is a testament to the notion that anyone can indeed make it.

But as I say, it's relatively easy to have a soft spot for the pair but enjoying the records they cut together is another matter entirely. While I have a great deal of respect for my fellow national chart bloggers, Tom Breihan and Tom Ewing are being overly generous to "I Got You Babe" with their scores of 8 and 7 respectively. The former describes the arrangement as "lush and gorgeous" which I guess is true even if it's undermined somewhat by the pedestrian singing. (Cher is the by far the more accomplished vocalist and she's only okay; Sonny was always a notoriously rubbish singer but to his credit he does show off a decent Bob Dylan impersonation at around the one minute, forty-five second mark) In typical fashion, the latter makes the worthwhile point that the married couple of Sonny and Cher sound like "they're in a radio play or running an awards show" which does go to show why their variety TV program did so well. These points are all true but mediocrity still reigns. The oboe is indeed nice but what's really the point of the rest of it? (My pal Aidan Curran who blogs the Irish number ones never had to review it but he has described it as "charming" and "certainly the best record ever made by someone called Bono" so I really am in the minority on this one)

Yet, I have to admit that it sort of still holds up after all these years in spite of my indifference. With their fun-sized/statuesque dynamic, Sonny and Cher were bound to become fodder for parody but it's something that's never been especially funny. (It was the image of the two them that provided the real laughs) Similarly, "I Got You Babe" has been parodied itself on multiple occasions over the years, much to my un-amusement. It also hasn't been covered well either. A 1985 version by British reggae group UB40 along with Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders managed to top the the UK charts but it is poor, even for a band with many wretched covers in their back catalog. (That said, it was even more of an embarrassing botch for Hynde who isn't quite as cavalier about ruining old pop songs) Best stick with the original even if it's cheesy, too much of a jumble of good and bad ideas and utterly unconvincing — but otherwise okay.

Score: 5

Gary Lewis and the Playboys: "Save Your Heart for Me"

August 16, 1965 (1 week)

Let's have some fun and look at some numbers! (My dad was a math teacher so I come by a love for stats naturally) From 1957 through to 1964, there have been an average of just over twenty-one number one hits per year. (This figure goes up to just over twenty-two if '57 is disregarded for only accounting for just over half the year) There were just nineteen chart toppers in both '59 and '63 while on the other end of the scale '64 has the highest total to date with twenty-six. For the most part, these seem like good totals: this means that on average a number one hit spent two or three weeks on top.

But let's look again at '64 because it's a key year in the history of the Canadian charts. During the first twenty-five weeks of the year there were just seven number ones (and that includes The Kingsmen's "Louie Louie", a holdover from the end of the previous year). It was at that point that the changeover was made from the Toronto-based CHUM charts to the more national RPM listings. For the remainder of the year there were nineteen number ones in just twenty-seven weeks. Welcome to the era of the one-week wonders.

Thus, 1965. We are now only at the midway point of August but a record has already been shattered. Billy Joe Royal's "Down in the Boondocks" was the twenty-seventh number one of the year but it only took another week for it to be smashed again by Gary Lewis and the Playboys with "Save Your Heart for Me" — and so forth for the remainder of the year. Hard as it may be to believe, there are even more number ones waiting for us in 1966.

If it seems to you like just about any old shit could get to number one in Canada under these conditions — unless, of course, you happen to have been signed to the Motown label — then you would be proven correct with "Save Your Heart for Me". While the first major Lewis-Playboys hit "This Diamond Ring" was no great shakes itself, it was catchy and memorable enough that it doesn't seem out of place as a number one hit on both the Billboard Hot 100 and the now second fiddle CHUM chart. It was even notable enough to be played on those old K-Tel Sounds of the Sixties compilations ("just listen!", "here's more!", etc., etc.)

"Save Your Heart for Me" doesn't even have the modest upside of a "This Diamond Ring" even though I suspect there's a passable hit hiding in there somewhere. Songwriters Gary Geld and Peter Udell had initially submitted it to Brian Hyland, who had previously had a big hit with their composition "Sealed with a Kiss". Already on a downward trend, the teen idol seemed to be moving away from pop and heading towards Nashville which his version leans heavily into. Hyland sounds like he's been on a strict diet of Everly Brothers. It no doubt helped that Geld and Udell produced and arranged it as well. The result is a lonesome drifter's lament, the song's distinctive whistling lulling listeners into a sense that it is carefree but what's really going on is the singer that has been rendered a free spirit since there's nothing else he has to live for.

There's no such similar depth from Gary Lewis and the Playboys. If some of the original's carefree tone remains it's only because that's how the son of comedy legend Jerry Lewis liked it. Communicating any kind of dark side is completely beyond his abilities as a singer and performer. Compounding problems is that Lewis doesn't have the tiniest fraction of Hyland's vocal range. He would've been better off hamming it up than the pathetically grinning effort he put in here.

The one thing that rescues it (albeit only slightly) is Leon Russell's arrangement. While normally an ace session player at around this time, he pieced together the blueprints of a recording that Brian Wilson could have made. The studio tricks are a welcome addition but they ultimately only manage to reaffirm just how boring this single is. And this is an important, if rather remedial, point: you can have all the studio boffins with their state-of-the-art equipment and willingness to experiment but if what you're working on is an okay composition being played by a mediocre band, audiophile wizardry can only take you so far. Sure, it could take you all the way to number one in Canada but virtually everyone was capable of such a feat. The modestly talented were more than welcome.

Score: 3

~~~~~

Can Con

This week's number one is dismal but much of the rest of RPM's Top 40 is solid. One of the pleasant surprises is Vancouver's The Nocturnals with the garage rock-flavoured "Because You're Gone", a song that doesn't just surpass Lewis' ultra lame "effort" but even holds its own up against tunes you'd actually choose to sit down and listen to. Sit down and listen? Uh, how about get up and dance instead? One that gets better with each subsequent listen as the multiple shifts in tempo become less jarring. Fantastic. They must've been a treat down in the clubs around Gastown and Kitsilano or wherever the hip bohemians of sixties' Vancity would congregate. The punks of the seventies should've covered this banger. I'm going to have to explore more from these guys.

Billy Joe Royal: "Down in the Boondocks"

August 9, 1965 (1 week)

As I previously noted, one artist I won't be reviewing (at least not directly) is Gene Pitney. With all due respect, this isn't a huge loss. The man never topped the Billboard Hot 100 and his sole UK number one hit didn't come until early 1989 when he and British pop star Marc Almond duetted on "Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart". Yet, he frequently came oh so close to hitting the top spot in Canada, peaking at number two on no less than five separate occasions between 1962 and 1966. If only he had been given "Down in the Boondocks", it might have broken his spell of chart runners-up.

There is some debate over where or not it had been intended for Pitney to record himself in the first place but what is undeniable is that both singer Billy Joe Royal and songwriter Joe South had the man who did "Twenty-Four Hours from Tulsa" in mind. Either they wanted to submit it to him or they wanted to mimic him. Not that Royal sounds like a Pitney impersonator. There are similarities in their voices but Royal lacks that chewiness that makes Pitney so distinctive.

Taken as a creation independent of other American pop stars, "Down in the Boondocks" is an engaging mid-tempo swinging rocker which manages neither to offend nor inspire. It glides along at a welcome pace and it has a nice toe-tapping beat but it is almost impossible to remember anything about it only moments after it has ended. I appreciate the fact that this record represents a time when southern rock didn't necessarily have to be leaden with swampy guitars, thick-as-molasses vocal drawls and a contrived down home feel. (To be fair, it was always the groups who hailed from other parts of North America — Toronto's The Band, San Francisco's Creedence Clearwater Revival — who tended to lay the "southern" qualities on a little too thick as opposed to those like the Allman Brothers Band and Lynyrd Skynyrd) That said, it's a little too bland and safe to really stand out.

Gene Pitney strikes me as the sort of pop star who up and coming artists of the time aspired to be like. He had that fabulous voice which most would would trade for. Billy Joe Royal seems to have been no slouch himself and I suspect that he had some strong recordings in his future. This isn't quite one of them but it is promising. Quite what it promised I'm not sure but he'll be back in this space before long so let's see how his second number one measures up to his first. And if it just okay like this one or even a giant steaming turd then at least he can take comfort in outpacing his idol two Canadian number ones to nothing.

Score: 5

~~~~~

Can Con

The lower end of this week's Top 40 includes some proper mint and skill singles. There are new entries from both The Beatles ("Help" coming in at a modest number thirty-seven, though it would gather momentum before long) and James Brown ("Papa's Got a Brand New Bag") and the likes of The Beach Boys ("California Girls"), The Four Tops ("It's the Same Old Song") and Bob Dylan (with something called "I'm a Rolling Stone", no doubt the Bard's plea to join up with Mick and Keith). Less celebrated is Robbie Lane and the Disciples with "Sandy". I can't seem to find it online so I wouldn't know what to say about it but I'm sure it fully merited its number thirty-six peak. Seriously, I gave some of his other hits from around the same time a listen and they aren't bad so I imagine "Sandy" is much the same. Like Billy Joe Royal, it's perfectly fine if entirely unremarkable and, again, suggests that he hopefully got better in the years ahead.

Tom Jones: "What's New Pussycat?"

August 2. 1965 (1 week)

I spent the bulk of my childhood happily unaware of Tom Jones. Then, I became aware of him and there was simply no getting rid of the man. He scored a big hit with synth experimentalists The Art of Noise with a cover of the Prince single "Kiss" and then began popping up on The Simpsons and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Liverpool indie rockers Space along with Welsh singer Cerys Matthews had a hit with "The Ballad of Tom Jones" which seemed to cement his improbable hipster cred. The nineties came to a close with the album Reload which everyone seemed to love except me. (I will admit, however, that it was better than that vile William Shatner album from around the same time) The Generation X fondness for Sir Thomas Jones Woodward eventually subsided but he remains a beloved figure. It's just such a pity he's not all that great.

I am prepared to acknowledge that from everything I hear, Tom Jones puts on one hell of a show. I've never been to Vegas nor has the thought crossed my mind over going to see him but I'm sure that's where he's in his element. It's obvious that the man is dripping in charisma even if I'm with Tom Ewing when he says that "I still come away from his records feeling like I have spit all over my face".

"What's New Pussycat?" is one of the signature Tom Jones numbers, topped only by "It's Not Unusual" (though fans of "Delilah" will no doubt disagree: the fact that I have no idea off the top of my head how it goes says it all in my book), yet its familiarity is strangely down to very little beyond that chorus. A chorus, mind you, that is nothing more than Jones' imploring cries of "what's new pussycat?" along with those hollers of "whoa-whoa!". The verses are just trite little nursery rhymes that I had either forgotten about entirely or I was never aware of to begin with.

This is the second straight Burt Bachrach-Hal David composition to top the Canadian charts. Like "What the World Needs Now Is Love", "What's New Pussycat?" represents a considerable drop in quality from the likes of "Baby, It's You", "(The Man Who Shot) Liberty Valance" and "Don't Make Me Over". Yet, here they were, enjoying some of their biggest commercial successes with some of their weakest material. Luckily, this creative slump wasn't permanent as "Make It Easy on Yourself", "Alfie", and "The Look of Love" would prove over the next few months and years. That is an Imperial phase for you: even when you're doing subpar work, everything still manages to work out for those at their peak.

In spite of what I have to say above, Tom Jones is easily the best thing about "What's New Pussycat?". A consummate pro, he brought his 'A' game in the studio just as reliably as he did on stage (or so I hear). The only reason anyone remembers anything about it at all is because of all that gusto he puts into the chorus. Otherwise, there's not much else to say here but to finish up by commending Jones for taking a crummy song and making it just about bearable, which is a skill of sorts.

Score: 4

Only in Canada, Eh?: Number Ones Exclusive to Canada

I originally had the idea to blog the Canadian number ones back in around 2018 when I was searching for a longterm music writing project to work on. I ended up settling on VER HITS: The Smash Hits Singles of the Fortnight instead largely because there was no one else who would have been silly enough to do it. This proved a correct prediction, what I failed to reckon with was that there would also be very few interested in reading it.

The main problem I kept coming back to with number ones in Canada was my suspicion that they'd be too damn similar to chart toppers on the Hot 100 in the United States — and that ground has already been covered by Tom Breihan over at Stereogum. Nevertheless as my interest began to wane after six years writing about Britain's top pop mag of the eighties, I kept thinking about something more connected to my homeland. All I had to do was start looking them up and I found enough discrepancies between the Canadian and US charts to make it worthwhile.

The following is a list of CHUM or RPM number ones that failed to do likewise in both the US and UK. This means that there are still a few more that went to number one both north of the border and on the other side of the Atlantic but which came up short down south. For example, Elvis Presley's marvelous double A-side "Little Sister" / "(Marie's the Name) His Latest Flame" was a well-deserved number one smash in Canada and back in the old country while only peaking at number four down in the States. As you can see, the number of Canada-only chart toppers seems to be going up as this blog progresses through the sixties. This is mainly down to the obscene total of number one hits at the start of the RPM era but it's important to keep in mind that this could just as easily have opened the door for the big hits from elsewhere. The fact that Jay and the Americans kept racking up number ones while Canadians passed on The Four Tops and Temptations doesn't say anything particularly great about RPM's charts — and, indeed, the tastes of Canadian listeners — but it was the reality.

This list will be updated from time to time. Look for the likes of Bob Dylan, The Who, Electric Light Orchestra, The B52's, and Tracy Chapman as future Canada-exclusive number one acts. Also, Paul Revere and the Raiders and Kiss because my peeps are far from perfect.

~~~~~

1957

Jimmy Dorsey with Orchestra and Chorus: "So Rare"

The Bobbettes: "Mr. Lee"

Bobby Helms: "My Special Angel"

The Rays: "Silhouettes"

Bill Justis: "Raunchy"

1958

Billy Vaughn: "Sail Along Silvery Moon"

The Chantels: "Maybe"

Chuck Berry: "Sweet Little Sixteen"

The Chordettes: "Lollipop"

Elvis Presley: "Wear My Ring Around Your Neck"

Bobby Freeman: "Do You Want to Dance"

Jack Scott: "My True Love"

The Everly Brothers: "Bird Dog" / "Devoted to You"

Robin Luke: "Susie Darlin'"

1959

Ritchie Valens: "Donna" / "La Bamba"

David Seville & The Chipmunks: "Alvin's Harmonica"

Travis & Bob: "Tell Him No"

Phil Phillips with The Twilights: "Sea of Love"

Ivo Robić: "Morgen"

1960

Jimmy Clanton: "Go, Jimmy, Go"

Jim Reeves: "He'll Have to Go"

Johnny & The Hurricanes: "Beatnik Fly"

Johnny Horton: "Sink the Bismark"

The Browns: "The Old Lamplighter"

Anita Bryant: "Paper Roses"

Jeanne Black: "He'll Have to Stay"

Hank Locklin: "Please Help Me, I'm Falling"

The Ventures: "Walk — Don't Run"

Jimmie Rodgers: "The Wreck of the John B"

Bob Luman: "Let's Think About Living"

Lolita: "Sailor (Your Home Is the Sea)"

Johnny Horton: "North to Alaska"

1961

Neil Sedaka: "Calendar Girl"

Andy Stewart: "A Scottish Soldier"

Andy Stewart: "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?"

Jørgen Ingmann: "Apache"

Del Shannon: "Hats Off to Larry"

Eddie Hodges: "I'm Gonna Knock on Your Door"

Barry Mann: "Who Put the Bomp (in the Bomp, Bomp, Bomp)"

Fred Darian: "Johnny Willow"

Bobby Edwards: "You're the Reason"

Leroy Van Dyke: "Walk on By"

James Darren: "Goodbye Cruel World"

1962

Charlie Drake: "My Boomerang Won't Come Back"

Ernie Maresca: "Shout! Shout! (Knock Yourself Out)"

Claude King: "Wolverton Mountain"

Brian Hyland: "Sealed with a Kiss"

Eddie Hodges: "Girls, Girls, Girls"

Ned Miller: "From a Jack to a King"

1963

The Cascades: "Rhythm of the Rain"

Skeeter Davis: "The End of the World"

Richie Knight and the Midnights: "Charlena"

Jackie DeShannon: "Needles and Pins"

Doris Troy: "Just One Look"

Inex Foxx: "Mockingbird"

Cliff Richard: "It's All in the Game"

The Kingsmen: "Louie Louie"

1964

The Beatles: "All My Loving" / "This Boy"

The Dave Clark Five: "Bits and Pieces"

Gerry and the Pacemakers: "I'm the One"

Johnny Rivers: "Memphis"

Jan and Dean: "The Little Old Lady (from Pasadena)"

The Newbeats: "Bread and Butter"

The Four Seasons: "Save It for Me"

The Beach Boys: "When I Grow Up (To Be a Man)"

Elvis Presley: "Ain't That Lovin' You Baby"

Jay and the Americans: "Come a Little Bit Closer"

1965

Little Anthony and the Imperials: "Goin' Out of My Head"

Gerry and the Pacemakers: "I'll Be There"

Jay and the Americans: "Let's Lock the Door"

The Kingsmen: "The Jolly Green Giant"

The Four Seasons: "Bye, Bye, Baby (Baby Goodbye)"

Guess Who? (aka Chad Allan and the Expressions): "Shakin' All Over"

Petula Clark: "I Know a Place"

Herman's Hermits: "Silhouettes"

Eddie Rambeau: "Concrete and Clay"

The Yardbirds: "For Your Love"

Bobby Vinton: "L-O-N-E-L-Y"

Herman's Hermits: "Wonderful World"

Jay and the Americans: "Cara Mia"

Johnny Rivers: "The Seventh Son"

Jackie DeShannon: "What the World Needs Now"

Tom Jones: "What's New Pussycat?"

Billy Joe Royal: "Down in the Boondocks"

Gary Lewis and the Playboys: "Save Your Heart for Me"

Eddie Rambeau: "My Name Is Mud"

The Fortunes: "You've Got Your Troubles"

Roy Orbison: "Ride Away"

Sonny: "Laugh at Me"

Sonny and Cher: "Baby Don't Go"

Billy Joe Royal: "I Knew You When"

Bob Dylan: "Positively 4th Street"

Little Caesar and the Consuls: "You've Really Got a Hold on Me"

The Wonder Who?: "Don't Think Twice"

Jackie DeShannon: "What the World Needs Now Is Love"

July 26, 1965 (1 week)

A year and eleven months after Jackie DeShannon had her second (and final) number one hit in Canada a number of countries participated in Our World, a linked up satellite broadcast featuring themed segments from around the globe. Fourteen countries were directly involved with another dozen or so showing on their TV stations. Predictably, the Iron Curtain countries pulled out of participating and there was little-to-no involvement from developing nations. Still, I'm sure it was an informative and at times entertaining two hours of television. (It was only two hours long? I always imagined it would have taken place over an entire day but I suppose technology wasn't advanced enough for such a duration; a hundred and twenty minutes was probably a Herculean task as it is)

By far the best known segment from Our World was The Beatles performing their latest single at Abbey Road studios. There's been some debate over whether or not John Lennon composed "All You Need Is Love" specifically for the TV special which I may expand upon when it comes up for review in a few months from now. (Spoiler alert: he absolute did write it on commission; quite whether I am able to prove this assertion is something you'll have to wait to find out. Second spoiler alter: I won't be able to prove it)

Had Our World been broadcast a couple years' earlier, it's easy to imagine "What the World Need Now Is Love" being used in place of "All You Need Is Love". Considering that writers Burt Bachrach and Hal David only struggled with it for a short time before it "wrote itself", it's likely they could have come up with it effectively on spec. They dashed the thing off with not quite the same degree of care that they normally placed on their works. That said, some of the lyrics let it down a great deal. "Lord, we don't need another mountain": while I can't argue with this statement, is it really the sort of thing we need to be requesting of the All Mighty?

This was 1965 when tensions in America over civil rights and the war in Vietnam hadn't quite reached a boiling point so Bachrach and, in particular, David (though obviously less celebrated than his partner, he was the one who was in charge of the lyrics) ought to be commended for being well ahead of the curve on trying to heal a broken nation. That said, Jackie DeShannon railing against how the last thing humanity needs is "another mountain" or "another meadow" is missing the point entirely. How about "Lord, we don't need another war"? Or "Lord, we don't need another bunch of bigots in charge"? Less of this sort of thing might help raise the level of love.

Bachrach didn't initially think much of it and the likes of Dionne Warwick and Gene Pitney weren't impressed enough to bother recording it. Whatsmore, the writing team's usual array of British vocalists — Cilla Black, Sandie Shaw, Dusty Springfield — weren't in any rush to sink their teeth into "What the World Needs Now Is Love" either. It's as if they ended up settling for Jackie DeShannon rather than having chosen her. One of the reasons Warwick turned up her nose at it was that it was faintly country-ish which is something DeShannon leans into. She channels a certain C&W melancholy with just enough bombast near the end.

Like "All You Need Is Love", "What the World Needs Now..." is on the surface rather poor but the end result makes it all just about worthwhile. Not the usual brilliance but certainly proof that the great songwriting duos could pretty much sleepwalk their way to an above-average release. While the Bachrach-David hit machine had begun to replace Phil Spector as the dominant middle class white pop sound of the age but the duo's creative peak had already begun to wane as they began to rely far too much on their knack for composing earworm choruses. In the case of "What the World Needs Now.." they manage to get away with it because of a sturdy enough melody, a loving message and DeShannon selling the shit out of it. But they weren't always quite so fortunate.

Score: 7

~~~~~

C'Mon, Be a CHUM!

I haven't been checking in on the CHUM charts of late. The bulk of its number ones in the first half of 1965 happened to also top the RPM Top 40 as well (with the exception of yet another Elvis single which I have no need to listen to much less write about). But I took a look and, blimey, we have a big one that evidently proved to be much more popular in the Metro Toronto area than nationally. With Canadians falling all over themselves to embrace virtually every British Invasion act, one that had yet to fully catch on was The Rolling Stones. There are some who will claim — with maybe a little exaggeration — that "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" is the finest single of the rock era and no doubt they can use its place as a global smash for justification (it's also "important" and "influential" which apparently is how music nerds and critics evaluate a song's quality). A number one seemingly everywhere else, it could do no better than number three in Canada though it would spend five weeks atop the CHUM hit parade. Oh those prudish prairie kids not wanting to have anything to do with something so lewd and suggestive. Mick, Keith, Brian, Bill, Charlie, another Mick, and, finally, Ronnie would end up having more than their fair share of Canadian chart toppers in the years ahead so let's overlook this pop injustice. Plus, the Stones recorded better songs no matter how "influential" and/or "important" "Satisfaction" may be.