You may have picked up on a theme here in my ‘all things George’ week. I started with the first song by George to appear on a Beatles album and am working my way up chronologically …. managing somehow to have overlooked two! 🤦🏼♀️ One of those songs appears today; the other will appear tomorrow. By Saturday I’ll be back on track with the correct chronology. True Giorgiophiles didn’t call me out on that booboo but those two songs are very good ones and deserve airtime here. Mea culpa!
Let’s backtrack a bit to the third George song included on a Beatles album. It was his second composition for the “Help!” album, recorded in 1965 for the film of the same name but it never made it to the soundtrack.
George double-tracked his vocals, with Paul joining in at certain times. Double-tracking vocals is the act of recording a vocal part two or more times, attempting to match each performance as closely as possible to the original, both in phrasing and in pitch, to add depth, dimension, character and harmony. (If you’re familiar with the songs of Connie Francis, you’ll know that she is famous for double-tracking and she certainly did it well.)
Presumably written about his relationship with Pattie Boyd (another ode to the divine Ms. B!) this is “You Like Me Too Much” from “Help!” or “Beatles IV”, depending on which side of the pond you’re located.
Lyrics
Though you’ve gone away this morning You’ll be back again tonight Telling me there’ll be no next time If I just don’t treat you right You’ll never leave me and you know it’s true ‘Cause you like me too much and I like you
You’ve tried before to leave me But you haven’t got the nerve To walk out and make me lonely Which is all that I deserve You’ll never leave me and you know it’s true ‘Cause you like me too much and I like you I really do
And it’s nice when you believe me If you leave me I will follow you and bring You back where you belong ‘Cause I couldn’t really stand it I’d admit that I was wrong I wouldn’t let you leave me ’cause it’s true ‘Cause you like me too much and I like you
‘Cause you like me too much and I like you I really do
And it’s nice when you believe me If you leave me I will follow you and bring You back where you belong ‘Cause I couldn’t really stand it I’d admit that I was wrong I wouldn’t let you leave me ’cause it’s true ‘Cause you like me too much and I like you ‘Cause you like me too much and I like you
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Billy Idol November 30, 1955 in Stanmore, UK
Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge is challenging us to create a Six Sentence Story using the word “detail”. This is my response to that challenge. (Revamped, rewritten and reposted from a 2022 story)
Recently, while talking with a friend, I asked her “What is your earliest childhood memory?” to which she replied her days in kindergarten and there may have been some mention of earwax and/or sticking bubble gum in her ears but that’s her story to tell; as it turns out, some of my early childhood memories also revolve around my kindergarten days and what a joy it was to be five years old when all that really concerned me was eating and playing.
My kindergarten teacher’s name was Mrs. Merchant and she could have been anywhere from 34 to 64 years old with her short, curly salt-and-pepper hair, rimless glasses, shirtwaist dresses, sensible shoes and sweaters (which she wore every day regardless of the temperature), but the single-most thing that stands out in my mind about Mrs. Merchant was the fact that she would discreetly vomit daily into a silver bowl which she kept behind the piano, and then cover the bowl with a towel and carry it off to the bathroom for a good washing; our mothers told us not to stare because it was rude but it was pretty damn hard to ignore your teacher puking behind the piano every day.
We did all sorts of fabulous things in kindergarten like arts and crafts, story time, marching band parades and show-and-tell but my favorite thing of all was the talent shows where we could sing, dance, tell a joke …. basically whatever 5-year-old kids did that qualified as talent; I always sang a song and I remember every detail about one of my performances – my song, my little dance and most of all my costume, my little pig costume.
My mother, ever the creative seamstress, bought a child’s pair of pink one-piece Dr. Denton footed pajamas with a rear flap for “easy potty time” (if you don’t remember Dr. Denton pjs, you’re really missing out on something!) and she brought home some pink felt from the shop where she worked to make little pig ears and a curlicue tail which she fashioned out of a short length of a wire clothes hanger covered in pink felt and stitched to the little rear end flap of my pjs; my mother covered one of my plastic headbands with felt and attached the ears to it while my piggy nose was made from stiffly starched fabric covered with felt with two holes cut out on each side for the string which tied around the back of my head to keep my piggy nose in place like a mask.
I did a little Pig Jig which I can only describe as a cross between clogging and the tarantella and I was told I looked absolutely adorable but sadly …. or luckily, depending on how you look at it …. no photos remain of that momentous occasion – at least none that I’m aware of; I’m sure if there were any photos out there, someone would have used them to blackmail me by now, don’t you think?
Yes, those days in kindergarten were great and I believe Mrs. Merchant (who probably suffered from bulimia, poor thing) didn’t have a first name because I’d never heard it; I also wasn’t crazy about nap time because no 5-year-old wants to nap but what I wouldn’t give these days for a nice cozy afternoon snooze!
Today we mark the 22nd anniversary of George Harrison’s death; as I said the other day in my post on Song Lyric Sunday, the passing of George broke my heart. The youngest of the Beatles, he was only eight years my senior, almost to the day, but when I was 13 or 14 years old, that eight years seemed like a huge age gap.
I was in my car driving up to Rhinebeck NY to see my mother and sister when the news came on the car radio. I cried for the rest of the trip and, upon my arrival, shared the sad news with them. The irony was not lost on me how 36 years earlier the three of us bonded at a happier occasion …. the Beatles concert at Shea Stadium. The Lads always had a way of bringing people together.
And they still do for here we are once again brought together by their great music!
After “With The Beatles” and “Help!”, George was ready to take his long over-due revenge with “Rubber Soul”. “If I Needed Someone” marked the start of his (acknowledged) emergence as a songwriter beside the likes of Lennon and McCartney.
This is yet another song which George wrote for his future wife, Pattie Boyd. She must have been something else, that Pattie, to have two men (George and Eric Clapton) fall madly in love with her, marry her and have three songs (that I know of) written for her!
In “If I Needed Someone”, George invites is love interest to “Carve your number on my wall” yet offers only the possibility that he will call her back. I always loved the way he cleverly used the word “carve” when a songwriter of lesser chops would have gone with the word “write”.
From 1965’s “Rubber Soul” here is “If I Needed Someone”. There’s not a single thing wrong with a George Harrisong!
LYRICS
If I needed someone to love You’re the one that I’d be thinking of If I needed someone
If I had some more time to spend Then I guess I’d be with you, my friend If I needed someone
Had you come some other day Then it might not have been like this But you see now I’m too much in love
Carve your number on my wall And maybe you will get a call from me If I needed someone Ah, ah, ah, ah
If I had some more time to spend Then I guess I’d be with you, my friend If I needed someone
Had you come some other day Then it might not have been like this But you see now I’m too much in love
Carve your number on my wall And maybe you will get a call from me If I needed someone Ah, ah
Here’s a link to a story I first wrote in 2021 then reposted earlier this year. Most of you have read it but some have not. I’m rather proud of this piece; a ton of research went into it and it took me about 2 weeks to paraphrase everything George said because the last thing I wanted was a cut and paste type of job. It’s about as close to the truth as I could get without actually sitting down and talking with George himself. Thank you! 🩶
Continuing with my “All Things George Week”, today I have for you the 2nd of George’s Beatles’ songs. If you remember from yesterday, his first song was written in 1963; it took another 2 years for George to get the much-coveted nod from Lennon and McCartney.
Recorded in 1965, this song appears in the Beatles’ film “Help!” in a scene filmed on Salisbury Plain (a chalk plateau in southern England covering 300 square miles) where the group was under military protection from a murderous cult. Ooh, very exciting!
The song is “I Need You”, originally written by George for Pattie Boyd, the English model/actress he married in January 1966, breaking millions of girl’s hearts around the world.
From the Beatles’ album, “Help!”, this is George Harrison’s “I Need You”. There’s not a single thing wrong with a George Harrisong!
Lyrics
You don’t realize how much I need you Love you all the time, never leave you Please come on back to me I’m lonely as can be I need you
Said you had a thing or two to tell me How was I to know you would upset me? I didn’t realize as I looked in your eyes You told me, oh, yes, you told me You don’t want my lovin’ anymore
That’s when it hurt me And feeling like this I just can’t go on anymore
Please remember how I feel about you I could never really live without you So, come on back and see Just what you mean to me I need you
But when you told me You don’t want my lovin’ anymore That’s when it hurt me And feeling like this I just can’t go on anymore
Please remember how I feel about you I could never really live without you So, come on back and see Just what you mean to me
Since 1934 when the FCC was created, countless recordings have been banned or censored for a variety of reasons, including “provocative or sexually suggestive lyrics, inciting violence or promoting hate and political or religious beliefs and/or associations”.
Come with me as I reveal the most powerful number to close out the month. Let’s see which one I saved for last and who made it (in)famous.
Welcome now to the final week of “I’m With the Banned”. I gave much thought to whether I wanted to post this song or not. Surely I could find another song, any song, but this one. But then I realized to exclude this song would be a travesty, another kick in the gut to all those who struggled, fought and died in one of the most disgusting and ignoble ways because all they wanted was to escape slavery, be free and be treated as a human being. This song and the story behind it is compelling and I will not sweep it under the rug or hide it away like so much of our history. It deserves to stand alone which is why it’s the only song I posted today. I beg you to please read the entire post before jumping ahead to the video; what you read may be shocking but the insight I hope you gain will be immeasurable and unforgettable. Thank you.
🙈 🙉 🙊
Strange Fruit – Billie Holiday
In March 1939, a 23-year-old Billie Holiday walked up to the mic at West 4th’s Cafe Society in New York City to sing her final song of the night. Per her request, the waiters stopped serving and the room went completely black, save for a spotlight on her face. And then she sang softly in her raw and emotional voice: “Southern trees bear strange fruit, Blood on the leaves and blood at the root, Black body swinging in the Southern breeze, Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees…”
When Billie finished, the spotlight turned off. When the lights came back on, the stage was empty. She was gone. And per her request, there was no encore. This was how Billie Holiday performed “Strange Fruit,” which she would determinedly sing for the next 20 years.
“Strange Fruit” was written and composed by Abel Meeropol, a white Jewish communist, teacher and civil rights activist from The Bronx, New York who wrote it first as a poem, then later as a song.
His inspiration? Meeropol came across a 1930 photo that captured the lynching of two black men in Indiana. The visceral image haunted him for days and prompted him to put pen to paper. After he published “Strange Fruit” in a teachers union publication, Meeropol composed it into a song and passed it on to a nightclub owner, who then introduced it to Billie Holiday. She recorded it and it became her signature piece.
Abel Meeropol chose the words “Strange Fruit” to compare the hanging bodies to the fruit of trees. Such lynchings had reached a peak in the southern US at the turn of the 20th century and the vast majority of victims were black. The song has been referred to as “a declaration” and “the beginning of the civil rights movement”.
While civil rights activists and black America embraced “Strange Fruit,” the nightclub scene, which was primarily composed of white patrons, had mixed reactions. At witnessing Billie Holiday’s performance, audience members would applaud wildly, while those less sympathetic would bitterly walk out.
One individual who was determined to silence Billie Holiday was Federal Bureau of Narcotics commissioner Harry Anslinger. A known racist, Anslinger believed that drugs caused black people to overstep their boundaries in American society and that marijuana-smoking black jazz singers created the devil’s music.
When Anslinger forbid Billie to perform “Strange Fruit,” she refused, causing him to devise a plan to destroy her. Knowing that she was a drug user, he had some of his men frame her by selling her heroin. When Billie was caught using the drug, she was thrown into prison for the next year and a half. Upon her release in 1948, federal authorities refused to reissue her cabaret performer’s license. Billie Holiday’s nightclub days, which she loved so much, were over.
Before we go any further, let me make something very clear: While it’s true Billie Holiday was a drug addict and an alcoholic, she was in every sense of the word a victim who really didn’t stand much of a chance. Born to unwed teenage parents who didn’t want to be bothered with her, Billie was shuffled around from one “aunt” to another. Her life was predestined for grief, loneliness and hardships from day one and all the fame she realized couldn’t save her from her demons …. or the law. Let’s continue.
In 1959, Billie checked herself into the hospital suffering from heart and lung problems and cirrhosis of the liver due to heavy drinking. She had been a drug addict for a long time and was now in a very bad way. Still Harry Anslinger was ruthlessly relentless. Bent on ruining her, he had his men go to the hospital and handcuff Billie to her bed. The coldhearted Anslinger forbid doctors to offer her further treatment. She died within days. Harry Anslinger accomplished what he set out to do and he killed Billie Holiday in the process.
Despite her tragic demise, Billie Holiday has a lasting legacy in the world of jazz and pop music. She garnered 23 Grammys posthumously and was inducted into the National Rhythm & Blues Hall of Fame. Among the many songs that Billie Holiday is celebrated for, “StrangeFruit” will always be one of her defining works. It allowed her to take what was originally an expression of political protest and transform it into a work of art for millions to hear. In 1999 Time magazine designated “Strange Fruit” the “song of the century.”
This is the one and only Billie Holiday performing “Strange Fruit”.
As I often do, I’d like to add a personal note: my parent’s ashes are interred at St. Raymond’s Cemetery in The Bronx, New York. The last time I was there doing some ‘spring cleaning‘, I went in search of my long lost uncle’s gravesite. Reading the names on the headstones, I stopped short and gave a little gasp. There, not more than 15 feet from my parent’s gravesite was Billie Holiday’s grave. I was overcome with such emotion, I cannot put it into words. Just thinking what this woman went through made me feel so incredibly sad. I was standing at the feet of a legend, someone I greatly admired for many years. Billie’s headstone was covered with trinkets, cards, letters and mementos from fans and admirers who come from near and far every day to pay their respects. A cemetery worker told me so many people stop by to leave remembrances, he has to clear off the headstone every other day. The items I saw on her headstone had been dropped off that morning alone. There are bins stacked in a storage room at the cemetery containing all the trinkets left on Billie Holiday’s headstone. What a powerful message that sends to the world.
I took this photo last year while at St. Raymond’s Cemetery. What an incredible morning that was for me. Before leaving, I placed a flower on Billie Holiday’s grave.
This is the final installment of I’m With The Banned. Thank you for reading about these historic songs and artists and for listening to their pivotal messages.
I’ll be back here again Thursday with birthday wishes.
This week I’m doing something I never do: I’m not going to write any stories (unless a word or photo prompt seduces me, which is always a possibility). I needed a little break and thought I’d concentrate on my other great love: music.
November 29 is the 22nd anniversary of the death of George Harrison so this week is all about George and the songs he wrote while with the Beatles.
Let’s get the ball rolling with this little gem. Here’s some background info:
Between August 19 and 24, 1963, the Beatles were playing some concerts in Bournemouth, on the southern coast of England, along with Billy J. Kramer & the Dakotas and Tommy Quickly. Feeling sick and with orders from his doctor to rest, George had nothing to do in his room at the Palace Court Hotel. Bored, he began writing a song, recording himself on a portable tape recorder. The result was “Don’t Bother Me”, George’s first song to appear on a Beatles’ album.
From the band’s second album, “With The Beatles”, this is “Don’t Bother Me”. There’s not a single thing wrong with a George Harrisong!
Lyrics
Since she’s been gone I want no one to talk to me It’s not the same, but I’m to blame, it’s plain to see So go away and leave me alone Don’t bother me
I can’t believe that she would leave me on my own It’s just not right when every night I’m all alone I’ve got no time for you right now Don’t bother me
I know I’ll never be the same If I don’t get her back again Because I know she’ll always be The only girl for me
But ’til she’s here, please, don’t come near, just stay away I’ll let you know when she’s come home until that day Don’t come around, leave me alone Don’t bother me
I’ve got no time for you right now Don’t bother me
I know I’ll never be the same If I don’t get her back again Because I know she’ll always be The only girl for me
But ’til she’s here, please, don’t come near, just stay away I’ll let you know when she’s come home until that day Don’t come around, leave me alone Don’t bother me Don’t bother me Don’t bother me Don’t bother me Don’t bother me
This week the theme at Song Lyric Sunday is to find a song by an artist or group that won a Grammy.
Where do I begin? Where my heart takes me!
If you know me, chances are very good you know I’m a Beatles lover from Day 1. If you know me really well, there’s no question which of the Fab Four is closest to my heart.
Perhaps it’s because we’re both Pisces. Maybe it’s because I always root for the underdog. Maybe it’s because he was an immensely humble man never allowing money or success to be the end all in his life. He was accepting, gracious, genuine …. a man of great faith who possessed an enormous talent.
He was, of course, George Harrison.
George has an amazing catalog of songs; in my mind one of the best things he ever did was the “Concert for Bangla Desh” which won a Grammy in 1973 for Album of the Year. I will not bore you with statistics; here’s a link to Wiki where you can find out everything you ever wanted to know:
Today we’re just going to sit back and enjoy the legendary eponymous song from that phenomenal concert. Here is “Bangla Desh”:
Please follow me this week as I feature a different George song every day as a tribute to and in memory of the great George Harrison.
On Wednesday, November 29, we will mark the 22nd anniversary of his passing. That was a day that truly broke my heart. Thank the gods his music will never die.
As I like to say, “There’s not a single thing wrong with a George Harrisong!”
My friend came to me, with sadness in his eyes He told me that he wanted help Before his country dies Although I couldn’t feel the pain, I knew I had to try Now I’m asking all of you To help us save some lives Bangla Desh, Bangla Desh Where so many people are dying fast And it sure looks like a mess I’ve never seen such distress Now won’t you lend your hand and understand Relieve the people of Bangla Desh Bangla Desh, Bangla Desh Such a great disaster – I don’t understand But it sure looks like a mess I’ve never known such distress Now please don’t turn away, I want to hear you say Relieve the people of Bangla Desh Relieve Bangla Desh Bangla Desh, Bangla Desh Now it may seem so far from where we all are It’s something we can’t neglect It’s something I can’t neglect Now won’t you give some bread to get the starving fed We’ve got to relieve Bangla Desh Relieve the people of Bangla Desh We’ve got to relieve Bangla Desh Relieve the people of Bangla Desh
Ah, my dear readers …. we have a serious tune today. This wonderful song is a lesson and a warning to parents everywhere.
It was also a huge hit for the person who wrote and recorded it.
Let’s not waste another minute with talk. Here are your five clues.
Today’s featured performer was born December 7, 1942 in New York City; he was a singer-songwriter, philanthropist and hunger activist best known for his folk rock and pop rock songs.
This 1974 song is the only number-one song for our performer. It was nominated for a Grammy in 1975 and was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2011.
On July 16, 1981 our multi-faceted artist was killed in an accident on the Long Island Expressway when his Volkswagen Rabbit was rear-ended by a tractor trailer truck. He was on his way to perform at a benefit concert when the accident occurred.
As a dedicated humanitarian, today’s performer fought to end world hunger. He was a key participant in the creation of the Presidential Commission on World Hunger in 1977 and in 1987 was posthumously awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for his humanitarian work.
Today’s song started out as a poem written by the wife of our performer; he took her words and put them to music. It is a story of regret, the sad tale of a man who only has time for his work and puts everything before the needs of his young son who grows up to be just like his dad.
Those are the clues, my friends. Do you think you know the answers? Scroll down to see if you are right.
How did you do? If you knew the answers were Harry Chapin and his fabulous song, “Cats In the Cradle”, then you did great!
Let’s have a listen to that terrific song right now.
What a great song by the late Harry Chapin whose birthday happens to fall on a Thursday this year; if you’re a faithful reader of all my posts, you’ll know all about Birthday Thursdays! 😉
Thanks for joining me today. Please be sure to catch me this coming Tuesday as I wrap up November with the final installment of I’m With The Banned. I guarantee you, it will be an unforgettable post.
A provocative & evocative image from Jenne at The Unicorn Challenge; our mission, if we choose to accept it, is to write our reaction to this prompt. Here is mine.
Carry myself with pride, as my mama taught me. My name is Elizabeth but everyone calls me Betsy. I am sixteen, pretty and full of life. This is day one of my first paying job – working in the cotton mills. I’m lucky and so grateful.
Mama is home caring for my seven little siblings. Daddy left one day and never came back.
In my lunch sack is bread, an orange and a chunk of cheese; a plain lunch but it keeps me going. During my break I’ll sit by the banks of the river and splash my scorched face. Life is good.
Carry myself with stooped shoulders. I’ve been in the mill for eight months. It’s hotter inside than the blazing Georgia sun. Humid, too, to keep the thread from breaking. Boiled potatoes and river water for lunch. I’m sixteen. Maybe I’ll meet a husband here.
Carry myself on leaden feet. I work six days a week, twelve hours a day. I earn $1.00 each week. The air is thick with cotton dust. Nobody talks anymore; we keep our mouths covered but that doesn’t stop the coughing. I have no time or energy for anything else. I’m sixteen and feel like I’m sixty.
Carry myself with doom. I’m coughing up blood and see nothing in my future except dying in the mill. I think I’ll just walk into the river and never come out.
Carry my dead body to the graveyard. I was only sixteen and my name was Betsy.
The man stood off to the side, silently watching, seething.
They were neighbors, friends at one time …. brothers, a lifetime ago. When asked to go into business together, he turned his friend down saying it was a foolish venture, throwing good money after bad. He was afraid.
His friend was successful in his business and became wealthy beyond measure while his own life languished. Jealousy turned to self-pity which morphed into anger and hatred so deep and volatile, his head pounded at the sight of his once friend.
And look at her with that flashy red purse. Disgusting.
To all my WordPress friends ~ warmest wishes to you for a blessed and happy day of giving thanks.
Try not to be so harried and rushed that the day loses its significance and becomes a drudgery. Holidays can turn us into loose cannons ready to explode at the first sign of a glitch. Pour yourself another cup of coffee and watch the parade with the kids for half an hour, then go back and face that problem. You may be surprised how inconsequential it really is.
Take the pressure off yourself; we’re not superheroes so don’t feel like you have to juggle ten baking pans at once. Ask for a little help; you may discover cooking with someone can be more fun and relaxing than cooking for someone. And when I’m having fun and feeling relaxed, it’s contagious.
Hit the play button and get some cool tunes going. That old saying that music soothes the savage beast is true. Let the calm wash over you like a warm relaxing shower. You don’t even have to go hunting through your CDs or playlists; there’s a video at the end of this post that will take you all the way through appetizers, dinner and dessert (and maybe a little romantic dancing after all your guests have left)!
Remember the meaning of thanksgiving, the things and people in life that make you feel blessed. No matter how difficult times get, there’s always something to be thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. Whether you observe the holiday or not, may you enjoy a beautiful day of peaceful solitude or celebratory joy with those you hold near and dear.Be thankful, grateful and blessed,today and every day.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Johnny Mandel (Composer/Arranger) Born November 23, 1925 in New York City
“The Shadow Of Your Smile” composed by Johnny Mandel
“My Valentine” arranged by Johnny Mandel for Paul McCartney
Open a map of New York, go as far east as possible and you’ll find the town of Montauk – a laid-back fishing village kissing the Atlantic Ocean. I lived there for the first 18 years of my life with my brother and parents before heading off to college.
Winters were harsh and barren, a sharp contrast to the summers teeming with tourists escaping the cramped and sweaty streets of Manhattan in search of the perfect wave, the perfect tan and the perfect lobster roll. Springtime in Montauk is mesmerizing with trees budding, flowers sprouting up through the ground and the delicious smell of the ocean. We’d keep the windows open at night and fall asleep to the sound of the waves.
Our house was off the beaten path, with only two neighbors within walking distance. In the house on the left lived a young couple with rambunctious five year old triplets: Timothy, Thomas and Theodore – ‘The Terrorizing Trio’. Befitting their status as triplets, the boys had identical mountain bikes – one red, one blue, one green – which they rode with wild abandon on the dirt road, through our back yards and down to the beach.
Our neighbor on the right was the usually phlegmatic Doctor MacGregor – never-married, retired history professor-turned-nature-enthusiast. He was particularly particular about the upkeep of his yard and the glorious profusion of flowers attracting all varieties of birds and insects. His pride and joy was a tall redwood apiary which housed eight honeycomb trays. Inside reigned the queen, surrounded by her working and droning subjects. Mac, our secret nickname for the professor, would don his protective gear every day and inspect the hives and the honey production, all the while puttering and muttering, making sure everything was as it should be.
And it always was …. except for THAT day when mom happened to be outside hanging the laundry; she looked up at the sky and saw a huge black swarm rapidly approaching. Mom ran into the house and yelled for us to “close all the windows and doors”; we watched anxiously as thousands of buzzing bees hovered over our house, took a sharp turn and headed straight for town. After the bees took off, we were shocked to hear the usually mild-mannered Mac angrily shouting and cursing; we ran over to see what had gotten him all riled up.
Trevor, the triplet’s father, raced over from the other direction to see what all the commotion was about. We all arrived at the professor’s yard at the same time to discover a disheveled and blustering Mac wandering around the remnants of his beloved apiary. Splintered pieces lay in a heap on the ground, the redwood gouged and marred with clearly visible traces of blue, red and green paint. Trevor groaned audibly and raced out of Mac’s yard toward his own house, yelling out the triplet’s names as he ran. It was obvious they had crashed their bikes into the apiary and were probably hiding from the inevitable fallout.
As we silently helped Mac clean up the mess, we became aware of screaming and shouting off in the distance; it was coming from the village as horrified townsfolk ran for cover from the angrily stinging horde of bees.
It took a long time for the residents of normally tranquil Montauk to settle down after that day; the only one who benefited from the bee attack was the town G.P., who was kept busy tending sting after sting after sting.
As for Timothy, Thomas and Theodore …. they were found hiding behind their garage crying and covered from head to toe in bee stings. The boys were in a lot of discomfort (not to mention trouble). Trevor felt sorry for his sons and he was not unsympathetic but the triplets needed to be punished for the damage to Mac’s apiary. They were grounded for three weeks – one week for each boy – and their scraped bicycles were temporarily locked away in the shed.
As for Professor MacGregor …. he’s taken up birdwatching.
Since 1934 when the FCC was created, countless recordings have been banned or censored for a variety of reasons, including “provocative or sexually suggestive lyrics, inciting violence or promoting hate and political or religious beliefs and/or associations”.
The ban on most, if not all of these songs has been lifted; however, in some countries, certain types of music are still banned. They are considered illegal and carry severe penalties if the law is broken. Incredible, isn’t it?
Come join me as I reveal some of these controversial songs, why they were banned and the artists who made them (in)famous.
Eve of Destruction – Barry McGuire
“Eve of Destruction” is a protest song written in 1965 by P.F. Sloan. Several artists have recorded it, but the most popular recording was by Barry McGuire. Here’s an interesting segue and a perfect example of 6º of separation: McGuire recorded “California Dreamin‘” for one of his albums on which the Mamas & the Papas sang backup. McGuire is mentioned several times along with John Sebastian of the Lovin’ Spoonful and Roger McGuinn of The Byrds in the Mamas & the Papas hit song “Creeque Alley“, my favorite song by the M&P. I left the link in case you want to check it out. It’s a very cool song with lots of interesting lyrics that chronicle the events leading up to the 1965 creation of the Mamas and the Papas.
“Eve of Destruction” references social issues of its period, including the Vietnam War, the draft, the threat of nuclear war, the civil rights movement, the American space program and turmoil in the Middle East.
The American media helped popularize “Eve of Destruction” by using it as an example of everything that was wrong with the youth of that time. Due to its controversial lyrics, some American radio stations claimed it was an aid to the enemy in Vietnam and banned the song. It was also banned by some British radio stations.
As we’ve seen since I started this segment, banning did not have a grossly negative impact on the popularity of these controversial songs. In the first week of its release, the single of “Eve of Destruction” was at No. 103 on the Billboard charts. It reached its peak of #37 on the Billboard album chart during the week ending September 25. That same day the single went to #1 on the chart, and repeated the feat on the Cashbox chart, where it had debuted at No. 30. McGuire would never again break into the top 40 of the Billboard Hot 100.
Let’s listen to that very popular and controversial song from 1965. This is Barry McGuire and “Eve of Destruction”:
Here’s an interesting and quirky interview which asks the burning question: “Whatever happened to Barry McGuire?”
Did you read all the social issues mentioned in the second paragraph of this post? My goodness …. most of those topics are still in the news today! The more things change, the more they stay the same. With a new year just around the corner, let’s hope and pray that we will see safer, happier, healthier and kinder times for our world.
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Ohio – Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
CSN&Y’s song “Ohio” is about the events of May 4, 1970, when the US National Guard shot and killed four unarmed students at Kent State University in Ohio, leaving 9 other students injured. The shootings occurred after several days of confrontations between authorities and protestors against the Vietnam War. Protestors were especially upset that President Richard Nixon, who had called them ”bums”, had announced the expansion of the Vietnam War into Cambodia.
The shootings were the cover story of the May 15 Issue of Life magazine; when Neil Young read the story and saw the photos, he was compelled to write a song about the events.
Bandmate David Crosby recalled: “He was silent for a long time, then picked up his guitar and 20 minutes later had this song”. All the band members got together to record the song in Los Angeles on May 21. “Ohio” was released on June 4, exactly one month after the shootings.
“Ohio” became a protest anthem as Americans got fed up with the war in Vietnam. What you hear at the end of the song is David Crosby’s impassioned vocals yelling “why?” and “how many more?” His emotion was genuine. “Ohio” was a high point for the band. They were reacting to the reality and dealing with it on the highest level they could by being relevant and immediate. The song named names and pointed a finger. In the song, Neil Young likens the National Guard troops to ‘tin soldiers‘ controlled by President Nixon.
The CSN&Y album “Déjà Vu” had been out for just three months when “Ohio” was released as a single. In 1971, it was included on their live album “4 Way Street” which went to #1 in the US and sold over 4 million copies. ”Teach Your Children Well” was climbing the charts when the band sacrificed it by releasing the far more urgent “Ohio”.
On August 4, 1974 when Richard Nixon announced he would be resigning as President, CSN&Y were on tour in New Jersey; they announced the new from the stage before playing “Ohio”.
“Ohio” was banned by some AM radio stations, including many in the state of Ohio for challenging the Nixon Administration. The song received a great deal of airplay, however, on underground FM stations in bigger cities and in college towns. I remember hearing the song all the time so, once again, so much for banning music. Today the song is played often on classic rock stations. In 2009 “Ohio” was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Let’s listen now to CSN&Y performing “Ohio”.
To all my friends who will be celebrating Thanksgiving this week, I wish you a beautiful day with your loved ones. Be well, my friends. Be safe and keep your families close.
Next Tuesday will be our final edition of I’m With The Banned; in December we will say good bye to all this sturm und drang and welcome in a month of glorious holiday music!
Jim over at Song Lyric Sundayis asking us to get unplugged today by writing about an acoustic rock song.
Of course, my immediate reaction was to go right to the source, the premier #1 acoustic song, the most covered song in the history of songs …. “Yesterday” by the Beatles …. but I changed my mind. Too predictable; anyone who knows me would expect me to go there. So I went with another member of British royalty and selected one of the greatest acoustic songs I’ve ever had the privilege of hearing live.
Led Zeppelin could do it all, including ballads, and the finest has to be “Going to California” from their unchallenged masterpiece, 1971’s Led Zeppelin IV.
This folk-leaning rock song features only Robert Plant on vocals, acoustic guitar by Jimmy Page and the mesmerizing ring of the mandolin by the group’s bassist and multi-instrumental wizard, John Paul Jones.
The track came about after Jimmy Page and some crew members experienced a small earthquake while in Los Angeles. Folk legend Joni Mitchell supplied the “aha moment” for this song by inspiring the line: “She plays guitar and cries and sings”. When playing it live, Robert Plant would sometimes sing ‘Joni’ after this portion of lyrics. Well, he did the night I heard it.
Spent my days with a woman unkind Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine Made up my mind to make a new start Going to California with an aching in my heart Someone told me there’s a girl out there With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair
Took my chances on a big jet plane Never let ’em tell ya that they’re all the same Oh, the sea was red and the sky was grey I wonder how tomorrow could ever follow today The mountains and the canyons start to tremble and shake The children of the sun begin to awake (watch out)
It seems that the wrath of the gods got a punch on the nose And it’s startin’ to flow, I think I might be sinkin’ Throw me a line, if I reach it in time I’ll meet you up there where the path runs straight and high
To find a queen without a king They say she plays guitar and cries and sings, la-la-la Ride a white mare in the footsteps of dawn Tryin’ to find a woman who’s never, never, never been born Standin’ on a hill in the mountain of dreams Tellin’ myself it’s not as hard, hard, hard as it seems
Alright, Alright, Alright! Let’s get ready to rumble! It’s time once again to play Name That Tune!
This one is so easy, boys and girls; I predict you’re going to get it right off the bat. It’s just one of those tunes that everybody knows.
Are you feeling the pressure? Well, don’t go getting your knickers all in a twist! You’ll be on the dance floor in no time!
Ok, here we go with our five clues:
Our featured singer was born Ernest Evans in 1941 in the town of Spring Gully, South Carolina. He is known around the world by another alliterative name.
Today’s performer is a dancer (as well as a singer) famous for popularizing many dance styles such as the pony, the limbo and the fly.
Our song was originally released in 1958 by Hank Ballard and the Midnighters; it achieved minimal success. In 1960, our singer did a cover version that became a smash hit for him and started a massive new dance craze. The name of the song is also the name of the dance.
In the early 60s, this dance craze caught on in high society. Sightings of celebrities doing the dance at New York’s famous Peppermint Lounge made the song and new dance craze a hit with adults.
There are numerous dance variations including one named after the Peppermint Lounge; the success of the song and dance resulted in adult acceptance of Rock & Roll music.
So kids, how’d you do? I bet you got it! Let’s find out the results of today’s clues. You know the routine.
Yes! It’s Chubby Checker doing that new song and dance sensation, “The Twist”. Everybody on your feet!
Wow! That was great! I must have lost at least 5 pounds and I’m sureI threw my back out but it was worth it! How many of you remember twisting the night away?
Of course I’m sure you figured out the song and dance variation named after that famous New York hot spot is “The Peppermint Twist.” And it goes like this:
Some other songs and dances that were inspired by The Twist are The Madison, The Swim, The Mashed Potato, The Frug, The Watusi, The Shake and The Hitch-Hike. How many of those dances do you remember?
In case you were wondering about Chubby Checker, he’s 82 years old and still twisting the night away.
I hope I haven’t tired you out too much today, gang! Catch you during the week right here in The Rhythm Section.
Local businesses had taken a great hit during the recession and now the once lively and robust shopping district was nothing more than a ghost town. The barber shop, which was there for years, struggled to stay afloat as did the bakery across the street and the café around the corner.
Among the hardest hit was the exclusive coterie located in the elegant apartments above O’Chester’s Barber Shop – The Arlington, known as one of man’s last bastions, a gentlemen’s club, a cigar lounge, a house of prostitution.
Included in the clientele were politicians, celebrities, business executives and police officials; there was never a fear for the girls who worked at The Arlington or for the proprietress, Madam Josie Arlington.
All the men who frequented O’Chester’s were also clients of Madam Josie. There was a door in the back of the barber shop which opened onto a staircase leading to the rooms upstairs. The Arlington was an expensive ‘$5.00 house’ known for its opulence and beautiful foreign girls who offered exciting and unique talents.
Madam Josie was held in the highest regard for her discretion. Her customers felt safe knowing their reputations would never be tarnished. Josie had the presence of mind to install a private reardoor which provided an inconspicuous exit.
Josie was a wise businesswoman; she knew one day she might be forced to call on her clients for help. Keeping an immaculate account of each man’s name and sexual proclivities was her shelter in a storm.
It was that little snot Petey and hislacklusterefforts in watering theendiveplants. One job and he failed miserably.
Well, after being told week after weekthat he was doing a lousy job, he’d finally found somegumption(ill-placed though it was) and hung me out to dry. What a mastertwit he turned out to be!
Here I am; I have no arms to pull myself up, no legs to jumpdown. Guess I’ll be here till the real thing comes along.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Diana Krall Born November 16, 1964 in Nanaimo, Canada
Diana Krall, “Fly Me To The Moon”
Willie Nelson, Diana Krall and Elvis Costello, “Crazy”
It’s Six Sentence Story time with Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge. Yeah, it is.
“Other” is a word that rhymes with mother, which also happens to rhyme with smother, which begs the question: “Am I a dreadful person for wanting to smother my mother ?”
Mother wasn’t a bad person; there was no physical abuse – just a major lack of tenderness which can leave greater, more permanent scars …. a perfectionist who found it very difficult to show warmth or affection, even to her children; I don’t remember her saying “I love you”, tickling me till I squealed or reading bedtime stories; what I do remember is proudly showing her a drawing I made in school with the inscription “Skyscrapers scrape the sky while butterflies flutter by”…. something my teacher called “highly imaginative and showing great vision” but mother said it was foolishness because butterflies can’t fly that high.
As a teenager I was forbidden to shave my legs but did anyway and not wanting my secret revealed, I wore jeans all the time, even to the beach in the middle of summer which also covered-up the fact that I used a self-tanner which turned my skin orange; mother watched as I scrubbed myself raw in the tub using a mixture of water and bleach – a humiliating experience – but it was at that time she discovered my shaved legs, causing her to explode like a slow gas leak and, of course, I was grounded but it was worth it.
Many days after arriving home from school I would find the contents of my dresser drawers dumped on my bed, simply because mother didn’t approve of how my clothes were folded; if I wanted to sleep that night, I’d have to put all my things away (or push them to the floor, which I often did) and I’d get hell the next day but it was a trip seeing her bulging veins and bugged-out eyes.
Years later when I had kids, mother would pop in unannounced and examine my house like the “White-Glove Lady” checking for dust; if my oven didn’t meet her standards, she would clean it (which, now that I have 20/20 hindsight, was a blessing in disguise because I ended up with a clean oven) and then she would depart as quickly as she arrived, leaving me with a spotless house but never once sitting down for coffee and a piece of pie or stopping to play with my children.
Lately I’ve been having a recurring dream about smothering mother with a pillow and when I wake up, I’m smiling; I guess my earlier question bears repeating: “Does that make me a dreadful person?”
Her voice was soft and sultry, as smooth and silky as his finest Maker’s Mark bourbon. The image of a voluptuous goddess with long wavy caramel-colored hair, tanned skin and moist red lips immediately appeared before him. He could see her pearly teeth as she smiled, tantalizingly nibbling her bottom lip. He felt himself getting excited.
“Is anyone there?” he heard her say and roused him out of his fantasy.
“Yes, sorry. I’m here. I was distracted for a moment. There’s something about your voice; it’s very …. familiar” he replied trying to sound nonchalant.
“I get that a lot” she answered, her throaty laugh arousing him again. He could see this woman easily becoming an addiction.
“Are you calling about the apartment or the car?” Please let it be the apartment …. let it be the apartment .… he pleaded silently, picturing her sprawled on his bed.
“The Corvette, of course. No sexy car list would be complete without it, don’t you agree?” She chuckled softly.
There was that laugh again. He had to meet this woman. Today.
“Of course. The ‘Vette’s’ an incredible machine” he said, a bit disappointed that she wasn’t interested in renting his apartment. He had to get her there.
“Incredible sounds about right” she agreed. “And thrilling, too, judging by the photo in your ad. With her open top, she’s as sleek and beautiful as a Corvette was meant to be – a car to melt some hearts and explode others.”
As she spoke, he had a vision of her in the ‘Vette’, top down, driving along the Santa Barbara coastline, her hair loose and wild like crimson flames. She was laughing as she drove faster and faster, her hand teasing the head of the gear shift. She was wearing a short black leather skirt and a low-neck sweater, her perfect breasts heaving with excitement. She smelled of lilacs. His heart was racing, his erection pounding.
Who is this woman? He couldn’t think straight. Snap out of it, dummy!
“So, when would you like to see the car?” he asked. Today, today, today raced repeatedly in his brain.
“Today, if that works for you” came the response he hoped for.
Careful not to appear anxious, he hesitated before answering.
“Hmm, today. My schedule’s kind of tight” he lied “but I might be able fit you in around 4:00. Would that work for you?”
“Yes. I can come anytime.”
Oh God, did she really just say that? Sweet Jesus …. this woman was driving him insane!
“Hold on one sec” she purred. “I just need to check something.”
He waited impatiently for her return. He went over his plan: they’d meet at 4:00, take the Corvette out for a leisurely drive and get back to his place just in time for a “spontaneous” dinner and whatever might follow.
“Sorry to keep you waiting” she said breathlessly. “I wanted to make sure my wife would be available at 4:00.”
Wait. What? Wife? Did she say wife? She was married? To a WOMAN! His passion vanished instantly along with his rapidly sagging manhood.
“Hey, sorry …. I’m getting another call” he lied again. “Hold on.”
Since 1934 when the FCC was created, countless recordings have been banned or censored for a variety of reasons, including “provocative or sexually suggestive lyrics, inciting violence or promoting hate and political or religious beliefs and/or associations”.
The ban on most, if not all of these songs has been lifted; however, in some countries, certain types of music are still banned. They are considered illegal and carry severe penalties if the law is broken. Incredible, isn’t it?
Come join me as I reveal some of these controversial songs, why they were banned and the artists who made them (in)famous.
Creep – Radiohead
Last month was the 31st anniversary of the debut single release of “Creep” by the English rock band Radiohead. “Creep” is what I like to call an “angst love song“; it’s about loving someone who you mean absolutely nothing to, being totally ignored and feeling like a creepy weirdo because you just can’t get that person out of your head.
The original lyrics contain the line “so fucking special”. Obviously, that wasn’t going to fly with the censors so a cleaned-up version was recorded for radio with the line “so very special” (which makes me think of Dana Carvey’s “Church Lady” routine on SNL).
I neither like nor dislike Radiohead but this song blew my mind the first time I heard it and I still think it’s a great song. The music is quite sophisticated with unexpected chords and key changes. As far as the lyrics go, I think they’re brilliant and I have no problem with the curse word. I don’t appreciate gratuitously throwing the F Bombaround so often that it loses its “gravitas”; that is doing a great word a grave injustice. That’s not what’s going on with this song. Sometimes this perfect “mother of all curse words” is a must and everything else either falls short or is overkill.
Let’s listen to one of my favorite recordings from the early 90s – Radiohead performing the uncensored version of “Creep”:
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Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead! – Ella Fitzgerald
Hold on. Back up.
Am I talking about the 1939 song written by Harold Arlen for The Wizard of Oz? The same song Ella Fitzgerald recorded in 1961?
You bet your sweet Munchkins I am!
If seeing this little ditty on the list of banned songs doesn’t blow your mind, nothing will!
Who would have ever thought “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead” would become a #2 hit on the British charts? Well, that’s exactly what happened in the spring of 2013 — even though the song was banned by the BBC.
Why was this seemingly innocuous song banned, you ask? Well, because of a deliberate campaign in 2013 to boost the song to the top of the charts after the death of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The BBC deemed the song inappropriate because it was “clearly a celebration of death.” And in this case, the BBC was correct!
This is the divine Ella Fitzgerald singing “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead!”
Guess what! We made it through four banned songs since starting up last week and I haven’t heard anyone’s teeth fall out yet! Now honestly, it hasn’t been that bad, has it? 😬
And I’ll let you in on a little secret: today you heard the only curse word you will hear for the remainder of this segment. The songs I have planned for the coming two weeks will stand on their powerful message alone without the need of expletives …. and they are very powerful songs.
It’s my goal here in The Rhythm Section to always entertain and inform …. never to offend. To that end, I hope I was successful in bringing you some good entertainment today.
I’ll be back here in two days for Birthday Thursdays; I hope you’ll stop by to see who we’re celebrating this week.
“Lie to me one more time, boy, and I’ll toss that mutt of yours right off the cliff” Sidney Granger threatened his stepson, Harry. “Now, I’m gonna ask you again; where’s my compass?” His upper lip quivered into a sinister smirk.
Harry glanced up at Sidney with an indifferent look on his face. “I don’t know where your stupid compass is, Sidney. Have you tried looking up your ass?” Harry quipped, knowing the comment would only make matters worse. He didn’t care; watching his stepfather get apoplectic was worth it.
Harry immediately regretted what he’d said, not for himself but for his dog. Sidney reacted in his usual way – one swift kick of his hobnail boot directed at Harry’s springer spaniel, Charlemagne. The dog sensed what was coming and quickly darted away, baring his teeth and growling at Sidney. Charlemagne remembered the pain of that boot all too well.
“You got lucky, mongrel. Next time I won’t miss” Sidney snarled. “And, boy, you keep calling me by my name and there’ll be hell to pay. You’re to address me as ’Sir’, is that clear?” Sidney turned and angrily walked away. Harry gave him the finger behind his back.
“Sir!” Harry muttered under his breath. “You’re not in the navy anymore, you bastard! Now you’re just an angry impotent nobody who abuses animals and women.” Harry’s eyes turned dark as he thought of the fresh bruises on his mother’s arms and legs. The man had no conscience.
Barbara Granger fell under Sidney’s spell the first time they met. She always had a weakness for a man in uniform and longed for the life as the wife of a highly regarded military man. Widowed for several years, Barbara happily accepted Sidney’s proposal but her joy was short lived when he was forced to retire due to his age before reaching the coveted position of Rear Admiral. Barbara’s disappointment paled in comparison to Sidney’s humiliation and indignation.
Now Sidney vented his frustration and disillusionment on Barbara and Charlemagne. He tried several times to dominate Harry but the boy’s resilience and stubborn dismissiveness caused Sidney to feel weak and powerless – a role he was not familiar with. He wanted nothing more than to wring Harry’s neck. He knew there was more to the boy than met the eye. Harry would not succumb easily, if at all, and that concept enraged Sidney.
Harry waited until Sidney was far enough away before he whistled for Charlemagne. The two friends walked to a secluded bower on the other side of the large garden. Harry reached into his pocket for his treasured penknife, one of the few possessions he had from his late father. He looked for the small marker he’d carved in a tree, crouched down and snapped open the knife.
Charlemagne sat quietly in the shade as Harry carefully cut a circle in the moss-covered ground, then painstakingly began to dig until the blade of his knife made contact with a rock he had buried. Harry wiped the knife clean and folded it closed, slipping it back into his pocket. He removed the rock and placed it to his side. Reaching into the hole Harry retrieved a dirty burlap pouch and gently loosened the drawstring to reveal Sidney’s precious compass. Even in the shade of the willow tree the compass gleamed.
Just then Charlemagne began growling and barking; instinctively Harry knew Sidney was standing behind him.
“You thieving little liar!” Sidney spat out furiously. Harry reached for the rock but Sidney kicked it out of Harry’s hand, causing him to cry out in pain. Harry managed to whistle and Charlemagne lunged at Sidney with a force so powerful he fell backwards. The spaniel sank his teeth into Sidney’s neck. Writhing on the ground, Sidney managed to break away from Charlemagne who relentlessly attacked again in an effort to protect Harry.
With arms flailing Sidney edged closer to the side of the cliff but once again freed himself from the clutches of the dog. Harry grabbed the rock from the ground and with a mighty force flung it at Sidney, hitting him squarely on his forehead. Stunned and bleeding, Sidney reeled and careened off the edge, bouncing off the boulders on his way down and disappearing into the choppy sea.
Charlemagne ran to Harry who scooped him up in his arms. “Good boy” Harry said soothingly as they walked to the cliff’s edge. The only sign of Sidney was one hobnail boot sticking out of a crevice. Harry realized he was still clutching Sidney’s compass. Glancing at it, he smiled slightly. How fitting that Sidney had gone south.
The Elephant's Trunk 
