Pop music took an almost impossible 180-degree turn as the 1960’s ended. From the passionate songs of social conscience, songs with heart and soul, suddenly, radio stations became encrusted with the confectioner’s sugar frosting of gentle love ballads, songs to help you cope. There were songs that had no actual meaning, the radio equivalent of a slapstick sitcom. There were songs that implied a meaning, but left it up to interpretation. And there were the sad, the caring, the love songs.
This period was meant to ‘mop up’ the emotional mess of the Sixties. However, if you were just coming to understand the world at this time, as many Space-Agers were, you hadn’t experienced these problems, or at most, received limited exposure to them.
Instead of true feelings, more often than not, it was “dreams” and “wishes” or “self-pity” and “self indulgence” being sent to young ears, incapable of distinguishing truth from fantasy.
Sugar Sweet Seventies presents this collection of heart-warming, well meaning songs and wonders: What if pop music’s focus on social change had continued and strengthened instead of being abandoned?
*Note: Some of the commentary offered here is meant to temper the incredible sweetness of the music (which, of course, we all love). The object is to bring the material back to a tolerable glucose level.
Let It Be – The Beatles: When the 60’s were over, so was the most successful collaboration of the Rock Era. Yes, each member went on to a solo career, and received success in equal amounts to talent, but even as they were splitting, the Fab Four set the tone for the time. The heroic anthem is almost a hymn (“Mother Mary/comes to me/speaking words of wisdom”). As they prepared for the end of their Beatle lives, they still had a couple of things to say as mouthpieces for the generation.
(They Long To Be) Close To You – Carpenters: “That is why/all the girls in town/follow you/all around.” Is this the first ‘stalking’ song ever? Not really, with Karen Carpenter’s golden voice. This a case of singer and song intertwining as if they were formed from the same DNA. Bacharach/David strike again.
I Think I Love You – The Partridge Family: The Space-Agers get their first teen idol: David Cassidy. Constructed from some of the best session musicians (and an occasional vocal from step mom Shirley Jones) David carried this ‘family’ on a music and television odyssey with several hits, all faked by the actors on the show. Danny Bonaduce (who played bratty Danny Partridge) was quoted during an "E! True Hollywood Story" episode about the group: “We were the original Milli Vanilli.”
The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia – Vicki Lawrence: Written by Vicki’s then husband Bobby Russell, according to rock legend, this song was to be sung by Cher. Perhaps as a foreshadowing of his political career, Sonny vetoed it, saying it was “too offensive.” In a not-so-subtle manner, the song did criticize the justice system in small towns throughout Dixie (“well don’t trust your soul/to no backwoods southern lawyer/’cause the judge in the town’s/got bloodstains on his hands”). However, the narrator here is just as guilty as the system, so what’s the message?
Daniel – Elton John: A definitive “soft rock” song, it seems like there’s a concrete meaning to this tune, and yet, there’s plenty of room to project your own feelings into it, making it more appealing for everybody. Elton was commercial from the very start.
Betcha By Golly Wow – The Stylistics: Aside from evoking images of children’s games (“Candy Land appears each time you smile”) and Barbara Eden (“you’re a genie in disguise”), this song brings home the point of finding that special person (“you’re the one/that I’ve been waiting for/forever”). Hey, no pressure.
Another Day – Paul McCartney: Would The Beatles have performed this song? Elevating the mundane to important, the song is a veritable celebration of the tedium in life, through the eyes of an unnamed woman (“Every day she takes a morning bath/she wets her hair/wraps the towel around her/as she’s heading for the bedroom chair”). But, fewer specific details allow the listener to project their own lives into the song. Paul always was the most commercial of the group.
For The Love Of Him – Bobbi Martin: Here’s a song that never got any play at an Equal Rights Rally (“make him your reason for living/give all the love you can give him/all the love you can”). The premise is the woman must play the subservient role to get love in a relationship. That’s one small step for man, one giant leap backwards for womankind.
Day By Day – Robin Lamont and the Cast of “Godspell”: This entire song is thirty-three syllables long. It’s a prayer from the Broadway musical “Godspell,” (which later became a movie). Oddly, the song’s construction has more in common with Hare Krishna chants than any western religious songs. The repetition, the rhythms and handclaps make it almost trance inducing, until the final zither chord.
Angie – The Rolling Stones: Devoid of both Love and Money (“with no loving in our souls/and no money in our coats/you could say we’re satisfied”), this relationship is over, whether anyone is willing to believe it or not. Clearly depressed, but unsure of what to do next, the singer is trying desperately to find a grip on reality, though gently.
Legend In Your Own Time – Carly Simon: Subtle disappointment and parental disapproval, dream support is at a premium here (“think kind of sadly/to yourself/this isn’t exactly/what we had planned”). Here, a child follows his heart into a creative career at the expense of a mother’s love. That’s a pain that will linger.
Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth) – George Harrison: Would The Beatles have performed this little ditty? It does stick to the typical Boomer “demand-for-what-I-want” philosophy (“give me hope/help me cope/with this heavy load/trying to/touch and reach you/with heart and soul”). The question: is this a prayer? Or is it simply a command for humanity to get it together? Perhaps it’s both.
Rubber Duckie – Ernie (Jim Henson): From “Sesame Street,” it’s an honest-to-goodness Top 40 hit for Bert’s pal, who does an old-time 1920’s style Vaudeville song with a tribute to his bathtub buddy (“joy of joys/when I squeeze you/you make noise”). It’s an absolute delight to everyone (but especially to the “Post Lunars”).