While hardly the worst thing about it, I found myself not being able to get past the fact that Miguel Rios' "A Song of Joy" was released smack dab in the middle of the summer. It would have been hard enough to take as a Christmas number one but at least it would have been understandable. This is a position winter and/or seasonal songs can't seem to avoid. Leaving aside pure Christmas favourites, I once blogged about a short lived Liverpool group from the early nineties called River City People. Their sole UK Top 20 hit was with a cover of The Mamas and the Papas' "California Dreamin'" which was released in the summer of 1990. I don't know if anyone else thought it weird but I found the idea of them singing of going "for a walk on a winter's day" very out of place in the midst of a very hot summer.
True summer hits rarely get bogged down by this. You can appreciate either the joy of the sunshine and holidays or the melancholy that comes along with them during your break from school or work. Alternately, you may use them to escape the snow, freezing air, icy streets and bitter winds by taking in the summer fun out of season. Sly and the Family Stone's "Hot Fun in the Summertime", The Lovin' Spoolful's "Summer in the City", Bananarama's "Cruel Summer", Belle and Sebastian's "Summer Wasting": they all work no matter what time of the year it happens to be.
Mungo Jerry's one major North American hit had already been released in the UK and Ireland that June and would top the charts in both countries as a carefree summer anthem. Delays that came with shipping times along with the glacial pace of the charts during this period ensured that "In the Summertime" wouldn't reach its Canadian and US peaks until the cottages by the lake had been boarded up and the kids were back in school bluffing their way through trying to speak French. Rather than being handicapped by this, however, it comes across even better due to its tardiness. The summer that was dragged down by reruns on TV and too many rainy camping trips suddenly seems appealing when the leaves are changing colour and the homework is piling up.
The late sixties movement towards roots music seemed handcuffed to a tedious seriousness. No group epitomized this better than The Band. An accomplished live act with a high standard of group interplay between its five members, they were deeply influential and remain highly regarded by fellow musicians, critics and fans to this day. As a collective they were also gigantic bores. Though at least three of them — Rick Danko, Richard Manuel and Robbie Robertson — were talented songwriters, that Weight that they so stirringly sang of seemed to follow them around. Their material was bereft of humour and they smacked of the sort of people who would look down upon pop or any kind of music that might engage with audiences. The image of a stern Levon Helm on drums seemed to spread to the others even if it may have clashed with their real personalities. (In the documentary Festival Express, a chemically-aided Danko happily duets with Janis Joplin with backing from members of The Grateful Dead. The singer has a boyish charm while acting like a total horndog and he looks relaxed. He clearly isn't some phony pioneer type chopping down lumber for a living in spite of what The Band's mythology would have you believe)
They may have played basic — even primitive — instruments but Mungo Jerry weren't about to be sucked in to some 'real men playing real music' nonsense. If a member of your band is blowing into jugs then you can't get too high and mighty, can you? Tempting though it may be to dismiss "In the Summertime" as good, inconsequential fun, I'd say those are qualities that some of their contemporaries could've done with. Their perspectives on drinking and driving ("have a drink, have a drive, go out and see what you can find") and the opposite sex ("if her daddy's poor, just do what you feel") aren't great but what are a bunch of free spirits in the middle of the sexual revolution to do but be caught up in excess?
"In the Summertime" is a very likable song but only up to a point. It doesn't command attention, doesn't expect us to listen to it on repeat. It doesn't need to be heard many times before it implants itself in the mind. Like Billy Joel's "My Life" and Blondie's "The Tide Is High", it is one of those tunes that it feels like it was always around despite the fact that my parents never had it on record when I was growing up. While some overly familiar numbers can surprise you when re-visiting them in adulthood, Mungo Jerry's signature hit sounds more or less the same as it always did. This is no bad thing only that it leaves "In the Summertime" as the type of thing you never need to hear again. Unless, of course, it's summer — or winter.
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