The M M & M 1000 – part 44

Here’s the latest batch of Music Musings and Miscellany’s unapologetically subjective selection of the twentieth century’s best 1000 singles. More Rs. By the way, in case you’re wondering how long there is to go in this seemingly interminable series, there are just over 300 records left which will take another 20 parts.

SUPREMES – Reflections / Going Down for the Third Time (Motown 1111 1967)
By 1967 the Supremes still ruled, well, supreme as far as chart action went at Motown. The basic formula remained, but was tweaked to include hints of psychedelic pop both lyrically and sonically. The backbeat is little changed, but there is a new use of electronics, particular the oscillator in the introduction.

VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR – Refugees / The Boat of Millions of Years (Charisma 122 1970)
Van der Graaf were undoubtedly the fiercest, most punk of all the prog bands springing up at the start of the seventies. So, although they never achieved anything like the commercial success of some of their contemporaries (except, oddly, in Italy), their critical reputation remained untarnished during the punk year zero revisionism of 1976/7. “Refugees” sees Hammill and co in an unusually romantic (in the heroic sense) mood, as it swells with the hopes of people seeking a new life away from tyranny. You’d have to be hard hearted, or a Daily Mail reader, not to be moved.

NEW ORDER – Regret / mix (London NUO1 1993)
Republic was pretty lame by New Order’s standards, but it did open with this, the band’s finest guitar-oriented single since “Ceremony”.

BIRTHDAY PARTY – Release the Bats / Blast Off (4AD 111 1981)
For a while this became a bit of a millstone for the band as pig-shit thick hacks and DJs decided the band were Goths because they were singing about vampire bats and were all stick thin and pale (with the exception of the robust and well-muscled Tracy Pew). “Release the Bats” was more of an affectionate homage to the old fifties B movie inspired rock and roll stuff like Billy Lee Riley, Nervous Norvus and, of course, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.

SHANGRI-LAS – Remember / It’s Easier to Cry (Red Bird 8 1964)
It’s amazing to think that the girls’ entire recorded career was more or less crammed into an intense 24 month period. “Remember” was the first, and saw the Shangri-las sound emerge fully formed, from the seagull laden, dreamily hypnotic chorus to the glorious melodrama of the verses where Mary Weiss seems constantly on the edge of a fully-fledged breakdown.

ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN – Rescue / Simple Stuff (Korova 1 1980)
They’ve been going for 30 years plus now which, when you think about it, is the same amount of time as that between the beginning of World War 1 and VE Day! All the good stuff had been recorded by the end of 1984. “Rescue” was one of the band’s first songs that didn’t rattle along at a high tempo, but was more measured. The thing that makes the song is the chiming guitar theme – both simple and instantly memorable.

ARETHA FRANKLIN – Respect / Dr Feelgood (Atlantic 2403 1967)
STAPLE SINGERS – Respect Yourself / You Gonna Make Me Cry (Stax 0104 1971)
“Respect” is one of those songs that has been analysed to death and had reams written about it. It’s an example of the unique effectiveness of a good song. In under three minutes it says more clearly and concisely what everybody analysing it can’t capture in all their pseudo-intellectual gibberings. The same is equally true of the Staple Singers’ classic.

E-Z ROLLERS – Retro / Subtropic (Moving Shadow 103 1997)
Few acts are as aptly named as E-Z Rollers. Their best records use rolling breakbeats and a kind of lounge jazz sensibility to create a relatively mellow and sophisticated drum and bass. “Retro” is one of their best and is topped with Derrick May’s ruminations on the fortunes of the electronic music pioneers.

THIRTEENTH FLOOR ELEVATORS – Reverberation / Fire Engine (International Artists 111 1966)
SPACEMEN 3 – Revolution / Che (Fire 29 1988)
What set the Thirteenth Floor Elevators apart from all of their peers was the real sense of a lysergic experience going on. They had great tunes, sure, but so did a whole host of other mid sixties garage bands. The sound, though, seemed to beam through from an altered reality, particularly with the use of drone, reverb and the very weird sounding electric jug. Their first two LPs are absolutely essential. “Reverberation” comes from the first and does exactly what it says in the title. Rugby’s Spacemen 3 were acolytes of Roky Erikson’s crew, and it certainly showed. “Revolution” takes a two note droning riff and turns it into a mantra that never varies in tempo or rhythm, but simply in intensity. It’s barely a song at all, with the words largely spoken like a super slo-mo rap, but it’s hypnotic.

WILD SWANS – Revolutionary Spirit / God Forbid (Zoo 9 1982)
The Wild Swans were among the first wave of Scouse post-punk acts that included the Bunnymen, Teardrop Explodes, Pink Military and Wah! They lasted long enough to do one Peel Session (which includes the brilliant “No Bleeding”) and this twelve inch single, although they’ve regrouped several times since. “Revolutionary Spirit” switches between a downbeat series of short verses, and a big, yearning chorus that is basically the same chords but in a higher key. Simple, but bewitching.

JOHNNY CASH – Ring of Fire / I’d Still Be There (Columbia 42788 1963)
Unlike nearly every other one of the artists who’d started out in the mid fifties’ rockabilly explosion and who rapidly switched to mainstream country, Cash never forgot how to rock. “Ring of Fire” was written by Merle Kilgour and Cash’s future wife June Carter, and is just as direct and basic as any of his classic Sun sides of the fifties.

ROBINS – Riot in Cell Block #9 / Wrap It Up (Spark 103 1954)
“Riot in Cell Block #9″ was one of Leiber and Stoller’s earliest efforts, but it has all the trademark humour, drama and storytelling in place. It was also one of the first non-novelty records to use sound effects such as police sirens and machine gun fire. Bobby Nunn’s bass drawl recounts the story in something approaching a slow rap which is almost comically cool considering the mayhem going on all around. “The warden said ‘Come out with your hands up in the air / If you don’t stop this riot You’re all gonna get the chair’ / Scarface Jones said, ‘It’s too late to quit / And pass the dynamite, ’cause the fuse is lit’” The way he almost absent mindedly says that last line is priceless. Nunn and fellow Robin Carl Gardner went on to become one half of the Coasters who were one of the best loved acts during the second half of the decade.

MASSIVE ATTACK – Risingson / mixes (Wild Bunch 8 1997)
“Risingson” introduced the dark, paranoid rock sound that was explored on Mezzanine and famously disillusioned founding member Mushroom so much that he quit. 3D’s narcoleptic rap fits the atmosphere of stoned menace like a glove. The video was typically brilliant, featuring the band sitting around in a crumbling house, making tea and generally appearing bored, unconcerned and stoned whilst it’s under attack from a hoard of masked men like a Police SWAT team.

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The M M & M 1000 – part 39

Here’s the latest batch of Music Musings and Miscellany’s unapologetically subjective selection of the twentieth century’s best 1000 singles. As the little boy in the old Heinz vegetable soup ad used to say “some Ps”.

808 STATE – Pacific 707 / Pacific B (ZTT ZANG 1 1989)
A landmark release for British electronica. The second summer of love of 1988 was dominated primarily by house tunes imported from across the pond. What the scene lacked was homegrown anthems. “Pacific 707″ was one of the first. Not only that, its sampled sax melody and general tropical lushness made it a blueprint for a lot of the dream house and chill-out to follow.

ERIC B & RAKIM – Paid in Full (Seven Minutes Of Madness – The Coldcut Remix) / album mix / Eric B is on the Cut (4th and Broadway 12 BRW 78 1987)
Who remembers the Derek B mix? That was the one that came out first. The Coldcut treatment has become one of the all time legendary examples of the remixer’s art. Pretty much all of the original track is in there, but with old Tomorrow’s World samples and a groovy bass loop and all sorts of Steinski-inspired mayhem going on. Eric B apparently hated it. M|A|R|R|S paid deep homage to it. And it can still, to quote Rakim himself, “Move the Crowd”.

ROLLING STONES – Paint it Black / Long Long While (Decca 12395 1966)
Generally speaking, psychedelia and the Stones didn’t mix well. They spent much of 1967 trying, but generally making fools of themselves. The one indisputable masterpiece of the genre was “Paint it Black”. Significantly, it was a trip to the dark side. The deep echo on the bass and drums, and Brian Jones’ inspired sitar give it an air of intense psychotropic paranoia.

SMITHS – Panic / Vicar in a Tutu (Rough Trade 193 1986)
One of the many sticks used to beat Morrissey with (sometimes fairly) was the seeming attack on disco in this song and the call to “hang the blessed DJ”. It’s disingenuous in the extreme. This was two years before house went mainstream, remember – a time when club DJs were glorified hospital radio announcers whose interest in music varied between passing and non-existent. This was the era of the Hitman and Her, for God’s sake. I would’ve chipped in for the rope!

TEMPTATIONS – Papa Was a Rolling Stone / part 2 (Gordy 7121 1972)
By the time they recorded the 1973 album Masterpiece, there was rumbling in the Temptations ranks that they’d been reduced to bit part players on their own records, with Norman Whitfield’s grand visions taking central stage. They had a point. Personally, I think Masterpiece is a, um, masterpiece, but there are many who think it was an ego-trip too far. “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” may have set the ball rolling, so to speak – the full version runs to something like twelve minutes. But there is a real sense of drama, both in the music and in the way that the tale of a dissolute dad is told by the singers. And that bass intro has to be one of the most recognisable in popular music.

JAMES BROWN – Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag / part 2 (King 5999 1965)
PIGBAG – Papa’s Got a Brand New Pigbag / Backside (Y 10 1981)
If it wasn’t the record that invented funk, it was certainly the genre’s defining moment. Everything on “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag” is about the groove. It’s tungsten hard and tighter than PJ Proby’s trousers. Pigbag used the title as a tribute, and their record is funky too, but in a different way. It’s looser, faster, somehow more tribal sounding – particularly with the brilliant drum break on the twelve inch. They were a damn fine outfit who deserve to be lauded more than they are.

FUTURE SOUND OF LONDON – Papua New Guinea / mixes (Jumpin’ & Pumpin’ 17 1991)
Constructed using samples of Circuit’s little known 1990 house track “Shelter Me” and, more famously, Lisa Gerrard’s vocal on Dead Can Dance’s “Host of Seraphim”, “Papua New Guinea” sounded like nothing else back in 1991. It still retains an aura of mystery to it that sounds both celebratory and spiritual. It could be argued that it laid the foundations for trance, and the ethnic house, for want a better description, of global appropriators like Banco de Gaia.

BLACK SABBATH – Paranoid / The Wizard (Vertigo 6059010 1970)
Tommy Iommi’s greatest riff? Maybe topped by “Black Sabbath”. But “Paranoid” has a rare punk-like urgency about it while retaining the sludgy bassiness that made Sabbath legends. If you don’t feel the urge to head-bang to this, you have no metal DNA in you at all.

RADIOHEAD – Paranoid Android / Polyethylene (Parlophone NODATA01 1997)
When people want to tar Radiohead with the prog-rock label, this is usually wheeled out as exhibit A. Progressive? Sure. But not prog. There’s no noodling here. It may be long and multi-sectioned, but “Paranoid Android” is direct and unshowy. It also marks out the band’s rare gift for taking the raw materials of rock, and being able to continually surprise us with new shapes. Some critics swimming in non-main streams like to sneer, but the band have the knack of creating intelligent and original music that still can appeal to a mass audience. If it were that easy, their furrow wouldn’t be such a lone one.

BUKKA WHITE – Parchman Farm Blues / District Attorney Blues (Okeh 5683 1940)
Even by 1940, Bukka White’s type of country blues seemed archaic. Blues, whilst not yet fully electrified, had become more concerned with rhythm, and the band had largely replaced the solo troubador. “Parchman Farm” seems to belong more to the twenties than to the age of an industrial megapower preparing for war. Having said that, it’s an example of country blues at its very best. Parchman Farm was a notorious Alabama prison, and White fully conveys the misery of the institution.

METAL URBAIN – Paris Maquis / Cle de Contact (Rough Trade 1 1977)
Rough Trade wasn’t launched by one of their more famous lefty, artschool, spiky post-punk types, but by a rabble of angry Parisian punks. “Paris Maquis” is a furious attack on the brutal, quasi-fascist Parisian police and whose anger was probably much more justified than many of the English punk bands’ general moans about being bored. Only Stiff Little Fingers probably had more good reasons to be this furious. You’d have thought that Paris would have been a hot-bed of punk, but it doesn’t seem to have been. Or maybe most of it just never travelled to the anglophone world.

TELEVISION PERSONALITIES – Part Time Punks / Where’s Bill Grundy Now (Kings Road 5976 1978)
Pinpoint accurate satire from Dan Treacey and co. Have to plead guilty on this, too. Although in my defence, I was too young to be a first wave punk. And young and naive as I was, I would never have bought a Lurkers single just because it was pressed on red vinyl. And I did use toothpaste, hence a full set of gnashers to this day!

ASSOCIATES – Party Fears Two / It’s Better This Way (Associates/WEA 1 1982)
After a series of dense, often quite brilliant singles for Situation 2, Alan Rankine and Billy MacKenzie were courted by Warners Brothers, given their own boutique imprint and the finances to fully fund their vision. The result was this rich, operatic, slightly mad piece of grand pop and the classic album Sulk. Like “Papa Was a Rolling Stone”, “Party Fears Two” has one of the most recognisable intros in pop – the theatrical piano melody that opens it with a joyous blast. I’m sure Liszt or Chopin would have killed for an intro like that!

SHANGRI-LAS – Past, Present Future / Paradise (Red Bird 68 1966)
Vast debates continue to rage about what exactly it was “that will never happen again” from a particularly unhappy break-up, through to an unwanted pregnancy or a rape. Whatever it was has left deep scars on Mary Weiss’s protagonist in this emotionally draining song. The light romance of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, and Weiss’s recollections of an innocent childhood contrast brilliantly with the hidden depths of pain that are only really alluded to. She seems like a woman who can still enjoy the pleasures of moonlit walks and dancing, but underneath the surface is utterly bereft of hope. It cuts me to pieces every time I hear it. They called them the Myrmidons of Melodrama. “Past, Present, Future” is as tragic as King Lear.

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The M M & M 1000 – part 30

Here’s the latest batch of Music Musings and Miscellany’s unapologetically subjective selection of the twentieth century’s best 1000 singles. Some Ls.

FLYING SAUCER ATTACK – Land Beyond the Sun / Everywhere Was Everything (Domino 23 1994)
Flying Saucer Attack took the feedback distortion of the Jesus & Mary Chain and the sonic soup of My Bloody Valentine and ran with it – creating records that were swathed in guitar noise that resembled jet engines. Beneath it all, there was often a wistful, almost pastoral melody, like the echoes of summer meadows buried beneath the smog and grit of industrialisation. “Land Beyond the Sun” has a beautiful, gentle melody that exudes a kind of bruised hope, fighting through the screech.

WILSON PICKETT – Land of 1000 Dances / You’re So Fine (Atlantic 2348 1966)
Chris Kenner’s original version was almost a rap – a litany of various dance crazes laid over a sweaty funk beat. The “na na-na-na na” chorus bit was nowhere to be heard. That was introduced by garage band Cannibal & the Headhunters. Wilson Pickett took the best of both – the funk, and the new chorus – to craft what it one of the definitive party anthems.

TONY CLARKE – Landslide / You Made Me VIP (Chess 1979 1967)
It’s truly astonishing how many great soul records that came out in the sixties sold bugger all, even those released on (relatively) major labels like Chess. They led to a new breed of (mainly British) record collector who hoovered this stuff up, often paying pennies for 45s that were as rare as Glasgow heatwaves. Many of these collectors were DJs on the nascent Northern Soul scene, and there developed a kind of one-upmanship in a competition to have great tunes that nobody else had. “Landslide” was one of those, that quickly became an anthem on the scene. It’s been repressed and turned up on loads of compilations since, but an original copy will still set you back a small fortune.

DISPOSABLE HEROES OF HIPHOPRISY – The Language of Violence / Famous and Dandy (4th & Broadway 551 1992)
Michael Franti and Rono Tse only made one LP in between the end of the Beatnigs, and Franti forming Spearhead. But it was a classic of Gil Scott-Heron influenced political rap. “Language of Violence” is one of the centrepieces of the album. It’s dark and troubled, detailing the endless cycle of violence in the criminal justice system – by crims, cops and screws alike.

MAR-KEYS – Last Night / Night Before (Satellite 107 1961)
“Last Night” was one of Stax’s earliest singles – before the label was even known as Stax. It also defined, more than any other record, the gritty southern soul-funk sound that would come to epitomise the label. The horns hark back to the glory days of fifties rhythm and blues, but the rhythm looks forward to the clipped funk that both James Brown and the Stax acts would develop through the decade.

ROLLING STONES – The Last Time / Play With Fire (Decca 12104 1965)
“The Last Time” is a great record, with a fantastic driving riff, and was possibly the first Stones record to really showcase Keith Richards’ rhythm guitar playing. For me, though, “Play With Fire” is even better. Short and brooding, it has Jagger doing his best to outdo Dylan in the sneering cruelty stakes, as he almost revels in the misfortunes of a down-at-heel heiress.

CHIC – Le Freak / Savoir Faire (Atlantic 3518 1978)
Chic came too late to save disco from its excesses and its increasing silliness. But they did prove that the form wasn’t artistically worthless as many argued. Even in 1978 when disco-bashing was at its height, Chic were afforded a grudging respect. Nowadays, of course, they’re legends. Few would argue that they possessed the finest rhythm section outside of jazz. You could argue – but you’d be wrong!

AIR – Le Soleil est Pres de Moi / J’ai Dormi Sous L’Eau (Source 944262 1997)
My first taste of Air was their track on Etienne de Crécy’s marvelous Super Discount album. My second was this – to my mind a track they’ve never bettered. Languid and dreamy, “Le Soleil est Pres de Moi” is the aural equivalent of lying sleepily in a summer meadow after a spiffing picnic without a care in the world. Bliss.

SHANGRI-LAS – Leader of the Pack / What is Love? (Red Bird 14 1964)
Look out! Look out! Look out! Scrrrreeeeeeeech, bang. I blame the parents. Bloody snobs.

OTIS LEAVILL – Let Her Love Me / When the Music Grooves (Blue Rock 4002)
Otis Leavill was from Chicago, like Curtis Mayfield. And he sang with a light, high tenor voice, again like Curtis Mayfield. Maybe those were the things that prevented him from being better known, or maybe it was just rotten luck. One thing it certainly wasn’t down to was the quality of the records. “Let Her Love Me” is a beautiful, yearning ballad, with Leavill resorting to praying for the girl he loves to love him back, he’s that desperate. OK, it sounds a lot like an Impressions record, but one that they would have been proud of, without doubt.

SHANNON – Let The Music Play / dub (Emergency 6540 1983)
Brilliant, evergreen, joyous – I wrote about this here.

THE NEED – Let Them Eat Valium / Seduction (Vitriol 1 1980)
Obscure Kentish post-punk, again a tune I’ve written about previously. Good news is that it may be surfacing on a Messthetics compilation in the not too distant future.

SANDY NELSON – Let There Be Drums / Quite a Beat (Imperial 5775 1961)
They must have given funny looks to the guy at Original Sound Records who thought that a drummer who played instrumentals could have big pop hits. But Sandy Nelson struck the big time in 1959 with “Teen Beat” and Imperial snapped him up. It looked for a while like they’d signed a one-hit wonder, but “Let There Be Drums” changed that. Partly it’s the Link Wray influence in the rumbling guitar riff, but mainly it’s the rhythm, essentially stripping down a dancefloor record into its most basic component. It works, though, and sounds as vital nearly forty years on as it did when it hit the presses.

SWELL MAPS – Let’s Build a Car / Big Maz in the Country / Then Poland (Rough Trade 36 1980)
Swell Maps probably owed more to Faust than they did to punk which they predated by several years, albeit largely confined to their bedrooms. From being experimental misfits, they found themselves at the centre of the post-punk scene, and landed a contract with Rough Trade, the label at the heart of the entire British DIY movement. “Let’s Build a Car” is ramshackle and noisy, but tuneful and vibrant.

PHILADELPHIA INTERNATIONAL ALL STARS – Let’s Clean Up The Ghetto / instrumental (Philadelphia International 3627 1977)
By 1977, socially conscious and political soul music was out of fashion, with getting down and partyin’ the primary concern of most acts. Ironically, Philly, a label that had never been particularly known for political music, chose this moment to stick a load of their brightest stars into the studio to record this brilliant call-to-arms. It was inspired by the near-bankruptcy of New York City under Mayor Beame, when even basic services like rubbish collection were not being performed. The story is told eloquently in a spoken prologue by the honeyed baritone of Lou Rawls. In many ways, this record was a direct forerunner for the likes of Band Aid and USA for Africa.

AL GREEN – Let’s Stay Together / Tomorrow’s Dream (Hi 2202 1971)
The good reverend’s masterpiece, a brilliant plea for healing sung with the passion of a preacher and the sensuality of a lover.

BOX TOPS – The Letter / Happy times (Mala 565 1967)
The record that introduced Alex Chilton to the world – a precocious teenager with the voice of a grizzled veteran. It’s all over in well under two minutes.

BILLY BRAGG – Levi Stubbs’ Tears / Think Again / Walk Away Renée (Go Discs 12 1986)
Somewhere along the line, Billy Bragg lost his Barking bark and developed an anonymous mid Atlantic style of singing. He also seemed to lose his ability to bring a lump to the throat. “Levi Stubbs’ Tears” is one of his most powerful songs. It’s about a woman in an abusive relationship and a dead end life whose consolation comes in the form of the Four Tops, and in particular Levi Stubbs’ heart-rending vocals. In a sense it’s an uplifting song in that it shows that there is always something positive to hold on to, even in the direst circumstances. “Walk Away Renée ” is worth mentioning. It features Johnny Marr giving a soulful reading of the old Left Banke / Four Tops tune, whilst Bragg recounts a comic tale of first love gone bad. It’s a charming little add on.

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The M M & M 1000 – part 23

Here’s the latest batch of Music Musings and Miscellany’s unapologetically subjective selection of the twentieth century’s best 1000 singles. There are a lot beginning with I. Here’s the first batch.

EMRY ARTHUR – I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow / Down in the Tennessee Valley (Vocalion 5208 1928)
The song is probably best known these days from the soundtrack of the Coen brothers’ film Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? Emry Arthur’s version is my favourite. He was a Kentuckyian bluegrass singer, songwriter and guitarist who lost a finger in a hunting accident. Like many musicians of the era, he faded into obscurity during the Depression and made his last recordings for Decca in 1935.

SIMON & GARFUNKEL – I Am a Rock / Flowers Never Bend With the Rainfall (Columbia 43617 1966)
“I Am a Rock” is a great song about emotional self-containment. “I have my books and my poetry to protect me; / I am shielded in my armour, / Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. / I touch no one and no one touches me”. Of course, it is merely the delusional self-protection of a man hurt in love, and now recoiling to a place of emotional safety. How tempting, though, to avoid the pain that love can bring.

GUIDED BY VOICES – I Am a Scientist / The Curse of the Black Ass Buffalo (Scat 38 1994)
I think most people agree that Bee Thousand was Robert Pollard’s masterpiece. “I Am a Scientist” is one of the album’s stand-out songs. It’s a ditty that uses the metaphors of scientist, journalist and pharmacist to explore Pollard’s need to communicate his feelings through the medium of music: “I am a pharmacist / Prescriptions I will fill you / Potions, pills and medicines / To ease your painful lives / I am a lost soul / I shoot myself with rock & roll / The hole I dig is bottomless / But nothing else can set me free”

SHANGRI-LAS – I Can Never Go Home Anymore / Bull Dog (Red Bird 43 1965)
Girl falls for boy. Mum disapproves. Girl runs away from home. Mum dies of a broken heart. Girl is distraught. Nobody could articulate teenage heartbreak quite as crushingly as the Shangri-las. Listen to this with dry eyes, and you’ve got no heart.

THE WHO – I Can See For Miles / Someone’s Coming (Track 604011 1967)
Townshend’s predilection for song cycles, rock operas and the like never convinced me (Quadrophenia aside). When he concentrated his craft into standalone songs, the results could be quite magnificent. “I Can See For Miles” is an acid rock masterpiece, albeit with slightly messianic overtones (the seeds for Tommy, perhaps). Keith Moon never sounded better, either.

THE MISUNDERSTOOD – I Can Take You To The Sun / Who Do You Love? (Fontana 777 1966)
The Misunderstood’s recorded legacy is tiny. It’s a pity, because “I Can Take You to the Sun” is probably the greatest advocation of mind expansion from an era full of coded references to hallucinogens. Running from soaring, highly amplified slide guitar to a gentle flamenco-like coda, the song crams a lot into three minutes. The final stanza is full of pity and disappointment felt by the acid prosletyzer aimed at those who mock the creed. “Well I speak of love but you do not see / cause words are words and they mean nothing more / with half a mind you laugh at me / cause I speak of colours you’ve never seen before / You’ve existed in a lie, that will some day show / I can take you to the Sun, to the Sun, / but you don’t want to go”. The last two lines fade into echo, as if the singer is disappearing into his own consciousness. It’s a song that is boldly effervescent, but also psychologically fragile. Very much like the acid experience.

TEMPTATIONS – I Can’t Get Next To You / Running Away (Gordy 7093 1969)
Between 1968 and 1973, the Temptations couldn’t put a foot wrong. “I Can’t Get Next To You” is a typically brazen and funky Norman Whitfield production. The protagonist boasts of his superhuman prowess, whilst lamenting the one thing he can’t do – win the woman he loves’ affection. It’s a brilliantly executed conceit, and uses all five voices of the band like a Greek chorus.

FOUR TOPS – I Can’t Help Myself / Sad Souvenirs (Motown 1076 1965)
Even when he was upbeat and relatively lucky in love, Levi Stubbs couldn’t help sounding like heartbreak was just a heartbeat away. Classic Motown from the Four Tops’ golden era.

WILLIE MABON – I Don’t Know / Worry Blues (Chess 1531 1952)
“She said, ‘You shouldn’t say that’ / I say, ‘What did I say to make you mad this time, baby?‘”. It’s the way Mabon sarcastically puts across that last line that always makes me smile. You can hear him rolling his eyes in frustration at his woman’s irrationality. She may have a point, of course, since he’s threatened to chuck her out or even poison her! But that makes his incredulity all the more funny. And yes, I know that’s wicked, but the song isn’t meant to be taken seriously.

GLADYS KNIGHT & THE PIPS – I Don’t Want to Do Wrong / Is There a Place? (Soul 35083 1971)
One of the universal fears of the soldier away from home has always been the arrival of the dreaded “Dear John” letter. Even though her man’s absence isn’t explicitly explained, this was the era of the Vietnam war and thousands of young wives and girlfriends were left at home, not knowing whether they’d ever see their loved ones again. Inevitably, many yielded to temptation. Gladys Knight articulates this brilliantly. She’s emotionally torn between a new lover, and the guilt of abandoning a man who’s far from home. You can see it from her point of view, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

MARY WELLS – I Don’t Want to Take a Chance / I’m So Sorry (Motown 1011 1961)
Mary Wells was Motown’s first superstar. She was also the first singer to jump ship, a move that proved disastrous for her career. She died of cancer aged just 49. “I Don’t Want to Take A Chance” was one of her first hits for the label, a sweet and slightly coy song about being reluctant to jump into a new love affair, having been burned by the last one.

WILLIAM BELL – I Forgot To Be Your Lover / Bring the Curtain Down (Stax 15 1968)
This is a beautiful and tender love song. In soul, it’s so often the case that the singer only sees the lack of attention he or she gave to their lover when it’s too late and they’ve gone. Things haven’t gone that far yet for Bell, but he realises that he’s been a lot less than perfect and wants to make amends. You can’t help believing that he really is genuinely sorry. It would be a hard hearted woman who couldn’t forgive him.

UNCLE TUPELO – I Got Drunk / Sin City (Rockville 6055 1990)
The first single from Belleville’s finest sons is a song about drinking that is refreshingly free from maudlin self-pity and sentimentally. The town is boring. Life is boring. What else is there to do but sit in a bar all night? “I got drunk and I fell down”. That’s pretty direct and matter-of-fact.

ELECTRIC PRUNES – I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night / Luvin’ (Reprise 532 1966)
Everybody assumed it was about a bad acid trip, of course. But just because of those spooky psych guitars (and one of the most amazing intros ever committed to vinyl), and the obvious hallucinogenic allusions, it’s simply about being haunted by the (imagined) ghost of a former lover. But what a beautiful piece of twisted, mind-squelching music it is.

SUPREMES – I Hear a Symphony / Who Could Ever Doubt My Love (Motown 1083 1965)
This is one of those songs whose key changes keep on taking it up to higher and higher levels of euphoria. It’s pop at its most carefree and joyous.

GLADYS KNIGHT & THE PIPS – I Heard It Through the Grapevine / It’s Time to Go Now (Soul 35039 1967)
MARVIN GAYE – I Heard It Through the Grapevine / You’re What’s Happening (Tamla 54176 1968)
The first version of “Grapevine” was recorded by the Miracles but wasn’t deemed fit for release. Gaye’s was the second, orchestrated and produced by Norman Whitfield. Again, Berry Gordy thought it wasn’t worth issuing. The third version by Gladys Knight and the Pips was issued, and was a big hit in 1967. It’s much more direct and uptempo than Gaye’s reading, almost sounding like a different song. Marvin’s take was finally issued on the 1968 album In the Groove. DJs noticed it, and started playing it to death – much more, in fact, than the album’s first single “You” which barely made the top 40. Eventually, Gordy bowed to the inevitable, and the result was a number one at the end of 1968. Dave Marsh (who provided the inspiration to do this series) rated it as the best single of all time. That’s maybe a little over the top. But there is no question that it was one of Gaye’s finest vocal performances, and the arrangement added a near perfect air of suspicion and fear to proceedings.

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