<<

Home Taping:

At the time of his death, was in grave danger of being taken for granted. Although it was accepted that he had 'invented' the musical style known as Country Rock, this was simply being overlooked in a mass outbreak of droopy-moustached yee-hawism. Today it is called New Country and has become the fastest growing market in American . of Country Rock lie in the recordings of West Coast artists and His Buckaroos, and The Strangers and the sublime pop- country songwriting of the (late) great Harlan Howard. This was known as the , where true-to-life and fast shuffle rhythms, often performed by musicians attired in flashy Western duds, caught the creative imagination of approximately one person: the young Gram Parsons. When Parsons founded The International Submarine in 1966, was entering its progressive phase and the Nashville hit machine was at the peak of its powers - a diabolical climate in which to attempt a revolution. 28 years later we see Gram Parsons in his true light: a man alone with no precedent, no road map, just a vision that has at last begun to register with the record buying public. Today Gram Parsons’s spirit lives on in the music of , , . And twenty-something years ago, awestruck by the imports in the windows of 's One Stop or Musicland, a small throng of fans were also travelling without a road map. All of the record sleeves were groovy and desirable; foot square promises, bold and inviting. Dan Hicks And His Hot Licks! Hungry Chuck! Mason Profit! A month's disposable income would secure but two.

Originally recorded between 1967 and 1973, all of the music on this tape was 'dubbed from disc'. Digging out the LPs, I came across long lost artefacts from a golden era of ; when LP sleeves were constructed from thick card, often textured or grainy; a tactile delight. Graphics were strong and bold, straight out of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Annual. Sure, there was the facial hair, sheriff's outfits and much posing around the campfire, but still one's imagination was captured in true frontier spirit. This was also the time of 'the vinyl shortage'! Panic! Invent thin records! Dynaflex - "it is thinner than any record you have ever owned" - was RCA's contribution to stemming the crisis; a miniature wobbleboard of a disc that you could bend in two. Still sounds good though, so with a copy of Pete Frame's Flying Burrito Brothers family tree handy: break out the No.6, crack open a Party Seven and crank up the stereo!

Side One

International Submarine Band Blue Eyes (2.44) LP: (LHI) 1968

Is this man nuts? It's 1966 and powerful aromas foul the limited air in boutiques worldwide; and subversive lyrics rule, and rock musicians are 'stretching out'. A bunch of upstarts in Wyatt Earp outfits are singing shit-kicking country for generation. Talk about uphill! True, The Fabs have dabbled, e.g. , but here is Gram Parsons, a young rocker, showing maximum commitment to country. It will be a quarter century before the full reverberations are felt. I'll Be You Baby Tonight (2.23) LP: (CBS) 1968

An endorsement of sorts; opening the influential 1968 CBS sampler The Rock Machine Turns You On, it is for many, an introduction to the sound of the pedal steel . It is ludicrous to suggest that this is Bob Dylan's first foray into the genre, but coming when and where it does, (closing the plaintive John Wesley Harding and laying a foundation for the country sound of ), the sends out unmistakable signals to the rock community.

The Byrds You Ain't Going Nowhere (2.25) and (3.27) LP: Sweetheart Of The (CBS) 1968

First to feel the effect, are . Conveniently, they have just recruited Gram Parsons to provide keyboard noises for Roger McGuinn's 'space music'. In a "yes yes yes, we'll get to that" delaying tactic, the ambitious Parsons wastes no time in hustling his new colleagues to Nashville to cut country with seasoned studio pickers, resulting in the seminal . Bob Dylan's You Ain't Going Nowhere mixes down-homespun philosophy ("strap yourself to a tree with roots..."), with just enough rock mysticism ("Ghengis Khan he could not keep..."), to tickle the fans and baffle the natives. Hickory Wind, cut the same day as Going Nowhere is a sterling Parsons composition and the only track on the LP where his lead vocal survives the mix. It won't be long before Gram Parsons quits The Byrds.

Beau Brummels The Loneliest Man In Town (1.49) LP: Bradley's Barn (Warner Bros) 1968

In the wake of 'Sweetheart', the pilgrimage starts. Californian hipsters go directly to Nashville to record at (Owen) Bradley's Barn. A bold move, a minor triumph.

Poco Pickin' Up The Pieces (3.14) LP: Pickin' Up The Pieces (Epic) 1969

"There's just a little bit of magic in the country..." They came from the smouldering ashes of the great . Relieved of ' Latin fixation and 's dark brooding, and form , a bright and bouncy country harmony group. Recorded contemporaneously with the Flying Burrito Brothers' debut, Poco's sparkling sound is innocence personified.

Flying Burrito Brothers Christine's Tune (3.02) and Sin City (4.09) LP: Gilded Palace Of Sin (A&M) 1969

First there are the outfits, cue fanfare: "And now on the rock and roll catwalk - Nudie bolero suit with marijuana motif from a hot young designer, Mr Gram Parsons!" However attuned to image, Parsons' masterstroke is a musical one: he manages to spirit away from the Byrds. It thickens up the vocals and launches a prodigious songwriting partnership that produces the apocalyptic vision that is Sin City, where even "a gold plated door won't keep out the Lord's burning rain".

Dillard & Clark She Darked The Sun (3.09) LP: The Fantastic Expedition Of Dillard & Clark (A&M) 1969

The massively underrated has left The Byrds for time and is quietly making country records away from the limelight. His partnership with results in two fine LPs and this song, (co-written with Burrito Brother and future Eagle ), is Gene Clark at his post-Byrds best.

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Some Of Shelley's (3.07) LP: Uncle Charlie And His Dog Teddy (Liberty) 1970

The Dirt Band's inestimable contribution to will be the triple record set Will The Circle Be Unbroken? From 1973, on which they will record with and introduce to a wider audience such country legends as Maybelle Carter and Doc Watson. One of the earliest Country Rock groups (founded 1965, with an early participant), the NGDB's version of this Mike Nesmith song opens the vibrant Uncle Charlie And His Dog Teddy .

Paul Siebel She Made Me Lose My Blues (2.36) LP: Woodsmoke And Oranges (Elektra) 1970

The folk-based Siebel's nasal twang roars out of NY, second coming-like, during the era of 'new Dylans'. This fabulous track opens with the heart-stopping pedal steel of Weldon Myrick and closes with Siebel's "yep-that's-a-keeper" yodelling.

Grateful Dead Dire Wolf (3.12) LP: Workingman's Dead (Warner Bros) 1970

By now they've all got the message. Even the find time to break off from an epic performance of Dark Star to record two rock LPs: Workingman's Dead and the immortal American Beauty. Workingman's Dead, from whence this song emerges, is also notable for its sleeve art, for it heralds the sighting of ears. In fact, the barnet as portrayed here (only a drawing mind you)opens up new possibilities for jaded rockers.

Shiloh Same Old Story (2.39) LP: Shiloh (Amos/Bell) 1970

Far from the Perfect Beast, this obscure LP marks the recording debut of Eagle-to-be , whose vocal chops are already in fine shape. Silver Threads And Golden Needles (2.20) LP: Hand Sown Home Grown (Capitol) 1969

Linda Ronstadt gives impeccable A&R. Subsequent Ronstadt recordings will suffer from slick production, despite multi-platinum status, but Hand Sown contains some of her best vocal performances and astutely selected material.

Rick Nelson & The Stone Canyon Band This Train (2.34) LP: Rudy The Fifth (MCA) 1971

Tired of his hits and package tours, the Teenage Idol had been cutting country records since the mid-sixties. Ever the hip dude, he has checked out early Poco club dates and is quietly amused by the emergence of Country Rock. Stealing and imminent Eagle from the Poco, he forms Rick Nelson and the Stone Canyon Band. Sadly, Rick's records from this era are erratic and a little disappointing, but this collection will be incomplete without him.

Laramie Blue Eyed Black Haired Woman (2.12) LP: Laramie (Mercury) 1971

A telling example of just how sordid a bandwagon can become, this truly dreadful record must be heard to be believed. It will become understandably rare, (i.e. not that many are pressed) and interestingly, in the credits, nobody owns up to vocals.

Side Two

Commander Cody & His Lost Planet Airmen Seeds And Stems (Again) 3.45 LP: (Paramount) 1971

Apparently, this is a drug song (seeds and stems being the residue of a diminished bag of 'grass'). Cody's combo introduces the stoned angle to Country Rock and widens its horizons considerably. Sung by co-author , (taking over here from regular frontman Billy C 'Unplugged' Farlowe), it's a mournful tale of break-up and despair. Dogs die and repo men call. Amazingly, the tribulations of Cody & Co will be recorded in an entire book: Star Making Machinery by Geoffrey Stokes (1976). Observed at close range, it will detail their signing to Warners; the arduous making of their fifth (flop) LP and the inner workings of the mid-seventies music industry. It is a must-read.

New Riders of the Sage Henry (2.35) LP: New Riders Of The Purple Sage (Columbia) 1971

Management stable mates of Cody, The New Riders are, it seems, also partial to the odd Woodbine. Several of their lyrics mention 'the man' or 'kilos', (hardly references to a career in freight forwarding). Augmented here by the pedal steel of , NRPS will go on to a string of light-hearted cosmic cowboy opuses.

Poco Bad Weather (5.00) LP: From The Inside (Epic) 1971

When Poco enlists the services of former Speed Press guitarist , events take a rockier turn. This strong Cotton ballad is one of Poco's best cuts, enlivening their Steve Cropper-produced fourth LP. Originally named Pogo (!), their career will span twenty years, but these pioneers will forever be denied a place in rock's premier league.

Flying Burrito Brothers Colorado (4.50) LP: Flying Burrito Brothers (A&M) 1971

Parsons quits the Burritos and Hillman recruits the golden throat of . The group's eponymous third LP is choc full o' great songs and lilting vocal performances, the best of which is the Roberts original, Colorado.

Manassas Colorado (2.50) LP: Manassas (Atlantic) 1972

Happening place. Chris Hillman has yet to play in a loser group or on a duff record. His stock is high as he hooks up with Stephen Stills in Manassas and this double record set is recorded whilst Stills, one of rock's most awesome voices, is at the peak of his powers.

The Eagles (3.28) LP: The Eagles (Asylum) 1972

A simply great intro. One instinctively knows that a major act is on the blocks. The Eagles will often get a bad press, but consider the facts. The original quartet covers all the important bases: several cracking singers, one of whom bears the stamp of vocal greatness; a stripped down ; an inspired guitarist; plus the vital ingredients (in no particular order): songs and ambition. The Eagles don't dick around with half-baked productions and crappy . They go straight to the heart of the matter, hiring to produce their debut and its follow-up, the truly brilliant Desperado. For all of this and the excesses that are to follow, they will be constantly rubbished.

John David Souther The Fast One (3.05) LP: Souther (Asylum) 1972

Former partner of Eagle Glen Frey in the lightweight Longbranch Pennywhistle, Souther (who opens for The Eagles at their 1972 London debut) will soon got his leg over Asylum style. Tears (2.43) and Take It Before You Go (4.05) LP: Pure Prairie League (RCA) 1972

For an import-hungry vinyl casualty with a cold nose pressed up against Musicland's crowded window, this is the ultimate graphic: the Norman Rockwell illustration of an old timer clinging to a ten inch chunk of shellac labelled 'Dreams Of Long Ago', adorned with the legend 'Pure Prairie League'. Now are you, or are you not, going to part with the three quid? Fortunately, this time the music lives up to the packaging.

Rick Roberts In My Own Small Way (2.57) LP: Windmills (A&M) 1972

After the demise of the Burritos, Roberts hangs on to his A&M contract and delivers a brace of beauties. This is from the first.

Chilli Willi And The Red Hot Peppers I'll Be Home (2.12) LP: Kings Of The Robot Rhythm (Revelation) 1972

Englishmen sing with American accents. Protagonists: Martin Stone (ex Savoy Brown//Mighty Baby) and the late Phil 'Snakefinger' Lithman, aided and abetted by 'the Brinsleys'. The UK's first pub/country rock combo cut a charming LP's worth of tunes, presented in a artful package.

Michael Nesmith Winonah (3.56) LP: Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash (RCA) 1973

"Winonah, the whiskey owns her..." The defecting Monkee's country trilogy: Magnetic South/Loose Salute/Nevada Fighter, defines the territory. Tantamount To Treason and And The Hits Just Keep On Comin' consolidate matters. By the time of 'Ranch Stash', (a kind of title), Nesmith is exasperated, as revealed in the LP's sleeve notes. ("I was sure this would be the album that would catapult me right up there with Dylan and Cole Porter..."). Even the desperate 'Buy This Record' ploy next to his portrait doesn't work. He was a Monkee for Christ's sake! Nesmith's great songs from this era will one day reach an appreciative audience.

Gram Parsons with We'll Sweep Out The Ashes In The Morning (3.13) LP: GP (Reprise)1973

And so we return, full circle, to the man who had the vision and the nerve. From the moment the ethereal voice of Emmylou Harris enters the picture, a career is born. In the classic tradition of the great heartbreak duos: George Jones & Tammy Wynette, Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn, Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris rewrite the rodeo rules and lay traps for future riders. Special thanks to Keith Smith, Paul Bradshaw ( Lang), Rhett Davies (Hello Goodbye), and Mike at Harlequin, circa 72.

Will Birch © willbirch.com First published in Mojo, November 1994 Home Taping:

Imagine a thousand schlanging away in unison, some Rickenbacker 12-string arpeggios and a dearth of improvised soloing. Imagine a warm understated bass line beneath a firm backbeat and chimp-friendly part. Add vocal harmonies, an uplifting melody and some straightforward words and you may have, in short, music that draws its inspiration from the Revolver// lineage.

What would you call this? Power Pop? You might, but that would be to imply that other forms of pop lack power. The term also conjures up images of skinny ties and boy-meets-girl naivety. Therefore, just as sheriffs' outfits and yee-hawing DJs alienate the potential country fan, many potential listeners are turned off. But, for the sake of expediency, Power Pop is the term resorted to for the purpose of this piece.

After the first wave in the '60s (The Beatles, The Byrds, , …) power pop lay dormant until a number of new (mainly American) groups appeared in the early '70s, e.g. Raspberries, , The Wackers. Frankly, these were groups out of time and none of them enjoyed lasting commercial success. A third wave emerged post-punk. In America: Chris Stamey and the dBs, Pezband, 20/20, (!) and Blondie, while in the UK, who can forget The Autographs, The Pencils, The Pleasers or The Dodgers? Today, there are many new groups mining this rich seam, but the world steadfastly refuses to ignite.

The following tape compilation is a personal selection which I believe encapsulates the best of the Power Pop genre. Lack of space prohibits inclusion of Stories, The Beckies, The dBs, The Plimsouls, , Game Theory, Red Kross, Jellyfish, Beagle, The Gin Blossoms, Adam Schmitt, , Martin Newell, The Pribata Idaho and Chopper, while failing memory prohibits the inclusion of many others.

Modesty forbids me from including a track by , but not from giving my former group a plug. Back then we were trying to champion the music of the early power pop pioneers. Thankfully today, names like Big Star and drop from the mouths of young musicians, I'm sure with all sincerity, but still very few people have actually heard much of this music. It is deserving of a bigger audience, but seems destined to forever bear the stamp: Top Secret!

John Fogerty Almost Saturday Night (2.23) Album: (Asylum) 1975

What an opener! Not typical Fogerty and quite unlike his Creedence rockers, this countryish item mixes 'good old boys' and a guitar figure reminiscent of Cliff's only (unwitting) venture into the groove, Don't Talk To Him (1963). Fogerty's lost classic was covered by Rick Nelson, The Searchers and, at your correspondent's behest, . This scorching track sets things up nicely.

Marshall Crenshaw Cynical Girl (2.32) Album: (Warner Bros) 1982

To be fair, Capital Radio gave this song much exposure. It follows the Fogerty selection perfectly. I remember being in a rehearsal space filled with musical equipment that was stencilled 'Marshall Crenshaw'. This included an electrical fan, perhaps to cool their drummer. A wag in our party cruelly remarked: "Look, Marshall Crenshaw's only fan."

The Byrds The World Turns All Around Her (2.12) Album: Turn Turn Turn (CBS) 1965

This song has all the ingredients of classic Byrds: a mediaeval guitar part, airy harmonies, a twisting Gene Clark melody and a brilliant middle eight; components that form the blueprint for a quarter-century of influence, imitation, and tribute. Magnificently leads into...

Shoes Tomorrow Night (3.10) Single (Bomp) 1978

Their best song. Originally a 45 that bridged the gap between their DIY commercial debut, Black Vinyl Shoes, and their first major label album, Present Tense (Elektra), for which Shoes re-recorded the song, leaving its wonderfully concise guitar break intact. As is often the case, the 45 wins out, picking up The Byrds' gauntlet with ease.

Pagliaro Lovin' You Ain't Easy (2.48) Single (Pye) 1971

Canadian Michael Pagliaro saw his 1971 Power Pop classic released on Pye in the UK. It charted! (#31 in February 1972). Pagliaro's fixation is best heard on Some Sing Some Dance ('63 Beatles meets '67 ) from his album, Pagliaro. Even better though, is Lovin' You Ain't Easy, a Beatles pastiche that rolls along on sustained aahs and oohs. May I now suggest two seconds silence to fully flatter the intro to...

Badfinger Baby Blue (3.32) Album: Straight Up (Apple) 1972

The Badfinger story is a tragedy waiting to be told. Where's the book? What other pop group can boast two suicides by hanging? How could it have been that bad for Badfinger? Either they were mismanaged and exploited beyond the bounds of human decency, or and Tommy Evans had become just a tad bitter and twisted. Sorry guys, we're not talking genius here; merely an extraordinary melodic gift and an uncanny ability, on occasion, to weave Beatle-scale magic, as on the magnificent Baby Blue.

The Paley Brothers Ecstasy (2.28) Single (Sire) 1977

Andy Paley is a pop chameleon who'd moved comfortably between drums (for ), keyboards (for ), singing and co-writing (for , no less) and scoring an alternative movie soundtrack (for ). In 1977, with his brother Jonathan, he formed The Paley Brothers and signed to Sire. The art department promptly airbrushed the duo's features into Frampton-like youthful innocence, but the music remained tough and this big beat ballad captures the spirit of Spector, plus guitars.

Dwight Twilley Looking For the Magic (3.12) Album: Twilley Don't Mind (Shelter) 1977

How did Twilley fail? Frequently given a leg-up by early label mate , Twilley possessed a sexy 'n'roll voice, above average looks and the right hand man that Paul McCartney would kill for, but it's too late - Twilley's former partner, , died in August 1993. Despite holding all the aces and enjoying an early hit with I'm On Fire, Twilley met with massive public resistance and cut-out bin infamy, save for his dedicated, almost obsessive, . Looking For The Magic is prime Twilley.

Phil Seymour Precious To Me (2.48) Album: Phil Seymour (Boardwalk) 1980

After leaving Twilley and turning down an offer to join Toto, Seymour went solo and scored a US and Australian hit with this gorgeous slice of pop.

Cheap Trick I Can't Take It (3.24) Album: (Epic) 1983

Back in 1978 had the World at its feet. With the LPs In Color and , the group looked unstoppable; singer had the voice of an angel and the face of a saint, while leader was writing classics (Downed, Surrender...) and shaking hands at a ferocious rate. Consequently, they did rather well, but then spent several years in the wilderness until this Zander original, produced by , marked a creative return to form.

The Posies Dream All Day (3.01) Album: Frosting On The Beater (Geffen) 1993

It's the old Jesus and Mary Chain trick. Write brilliant pop melodies and bury them under a million distorted guitars. The upside: approval from boys who paint their bedrooms black. The downside: the milkman does not whistle your tune. The difference here is put their brilliant melodies on top of the filthy guitars. Clever stuff. With a contemporary sound and some of the best tunes in pop, the guys who get to be Big Star For A Day may well find a wide audience in the '90s.

Blue Oyster Cult (Don't Fear) The Reaper (5.05) Album: Agents of Fortune (Epic) 1976

After the heavy metal rush of BOC's first three studio LPs (dig those song titles), Agents Of Fortune was MOR by comparison. So much did I love this record and its standout track (Don't Fear) The Reaper, that I dutifully bought every successive BOC LP, with ridiculous names like Cultosaurus Erectus and Fire Of Unknown Origin, in the vain hope that it might contain The Reaper's worthy sequel. Don't bother looking, it's doesn't exist.

The Rubinoos I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend (3.14) Album: Back To The Drawing Board (Beserkley) 1979

After the other-worldliness of BOC, bring welcome relief with this light slab of teen angst.

The Wackers I Hardly Know Her Name (1.46) Album: Hot Wacks (Elektra) 1972

The Wackers, featuring Bob Segarini and Randy Bishop, were the brave second wave's Canadian wing. Devoid of info, please allow me to quote from their illuminating liner notes: 'In Montreal, Wackering Heights and London, the Wacks, their ladies, and I spent The Fall of '71 pursuing a circus over the rainbow, armed only with our changes... ' Mmmm.

Bob Segarini Gotta Have Pop (3.29) Single/Album (Bomb) 1978

Already a veteran of the beat group wars (The Family Tree, Roxy, The Wackers, The Dudes), Bob Segarini summoned the energy in 1978 to release this self-produced mini-classic, decrying the then current pop scene. 'It's a synthesised mess,' opines Bob, and goes on, 'I loved The Beatles up to Sgt Pepper..." Picky.

Side Two

The Searchers When You Walk In The Room (2.18) Single (Pye) 1964

You could say, if pushed, that The Searchers, guided by the spirit of and the hand of Tony Hatch (before he became 'Mr Music'), invented the whole thing. You could also say that this is The Searchers' greatest. Written by song goddess Jackie de Shannon, it pre- dates Ticket To Ride and Mr Tambourine Man by some six months.

Tom Petty Feel A Whole Lot Better (2.44) Album: Full Moon Fever (MCA) 1989

As the Searchers' final chord fades, Tom kicks in, as they say, like John Wayne encountering a bar room brawl. Gene Clark's monumental Byrds classic is the pinnacle of the genre, but Tom Petty's lovingly crafted facsimile sounds even greater in the context of this collection. Produced by Jeff Lynn, whose post-ELO motto must be: keep it simple and then simplify it.

Stone Roses She Bangs The Drums (3.35) Single (Silvertone) 1989

At the time of writing, we eagerly await new Stone Roses material. It is unlikely that their new songs will be in this style as they will have moved on, matured. This cracker, together with Mersey Paradise from the same disc, shows great 'pop sensibility' and makes you wonder if have ever heard our next selection…

Blue Ash Abracadabra (Have You Seen Her?) (3.01) Album: No More, No Less (Mercury) 1973

The Searchers on speed, as covered by The Records. Apart from minor indiscretions such as wailing guitar and busy drumming, Blue Ash were classic power pop. Their debut LP also includes Dusty Old Fairgrounds (an obscure Bob Dylan song) and Smash My Guitar, which is pure English whimsy in a //Village Green-era Kinks kind of way.

The La's There She Goes (2.42) Single (Go-Discs) 1988

Live, the 1988 La's were a hot proposition, vindicating Go!Discs' belief in the group as this, their most commercial song, was remixed and reissued relentlessly until it became a hit. New product from the maverick talent of Lee Mavers is long overdue.

Aimee Mann Fifty Years After The Fair (3.39) Album: Whatever (Imago) 1993

It would be politically incorrect to include a girl for girl's sake and, apart from , it is hard to think of many young ladies who have entered this musical arena. A recent Mojo interview with Aimee Mann suggests an artist angry at not gaining wider commercial acceptance but it can only be a matter of time before the hits keep coming. Bram Tchaikovsky Girl Of My Dreams (3.48) Single (Radar) 1978

Formerly of , victims of Virgin's 'faces not fit for public viewing' dictate, guitarist Bram (Peter Brammell) broke away and recorded Girl Of My Dreams, a hook-laden, guitar- driven US hit. And now:

Raspberries Play On (3.00) Album: Starting Over (Capitol) 1974

If swimming against the tide were a crime, in 1972 the Raspberries were caught bang-to- rights. Their perverse, almost wilful approach might be viewed as heroic, even if leader 's bouffant and satin cummerbund combination remains rock's best example of punter alienation. How did they hope to survive? Most of the Raspberries' early 45s (big guitar intros edited onto smooth MOR-land melodies) were a bit like The Who meets McCartney in ballad mode. However, on their fourth and final LP, with revised line-up, they really hit their stride, despite their strides. New boy Scott McCarl's Lennonoid vocal on Play On is a high point and almost my favourite Raspberries song. Christ! Scott McCarl! Where Are You Now?

The Scruffs My Mind (2.07) Album: Wanna Meet The Scruffs? (Power Play) 1977

What I know about The Scruffs could be written on the back of a postage stamp, and I do mean the Bolivar State 10 cent green of 1863.

The Pop Down On The Boulevard (2.40) Single () 1977

This cracking little item put The Pop near the top, but their glory was short-lived. The name maybe?

Starz Cherry Baby (3.28) Single (Capitol) 1977

With sub- guitars and veering dangerously close to the big hair and stadium-faced genre known as Pop Metal, the anthemic Cherry Baby has a place in this collection if only for its guitar intro and Hollies-style harmonies. The B-side, Rock Six Times, is a bit of a corker as well.

Big Star (2.42) Album: Radio City (Ardent) 1973 Invariably, when we meet our heroes, our feet and mouths connect. Your correspondent's Surreal Encounter with involved the kind hospitality chez Brilleaux, Sunday lunch with several bottles of The Host's Fine Claret and a Surprise Guest. The socially relaxed conversation went something like: "well Alex, now that you've got Like Flies On Sherbert under your belt, how about a major record deal?" Perhaps cushioned by imminent royalties from his Bangles' cover of September Gurls, our hero scratched his head, looked at the floor and mumbled a reply of the "aw shucks, I don't really know" variety. We will never know how many major deals, if any, Alex Chilton has had to turn down to maintain his impeccable cult status but, back in 1972/3, his group Big Star made two of the greatest pop LPs of all time. The tragedy is that sales figures suggest few people have actually had the pleasure of hearing them, even if Big Star remains the name to drop.

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers Listen to Her Heart (2.58) Album: You're Gonna Get It (Shelter) 1978

"You think you're gonna take her away, with your money and your cocaine..." When Tom Petty and co emerged in 1977, the rock world was besotted with punk. Petty somehow managed to gain immediate acceptance, despite extravagant hair length. His early songs were short and snappy, and this is one of the best, with its easily-plundered Byrds-style intro. Petty remains one of the few to bring this sound to a wider audience.

The Byrds (2.27) Single (Columbia) 1967

We are now on the home straight with 's finest moment. Along with and So You Wanna Be A Rock'n'Roll Star, this is one of The Byrds' most exciting recordings.

Flamin' Groovies (3.28) Single (Sire) 1976

Inspired by 1966 Rolling Stones, Cyril Jordan and his 1976 fans-as-musicians outfit were really wearing their hearts on their velvet sleeves. They had the right look, the right instruments and probably the right mains leads. They certainly made the right sound and Shake Some Action (their own composition) is a classic of the genre and a fitting way to close this tape.

Special thanks to Stuart Batsford, Paul Bradshaw (Mod Lang), Ken Sharp (author of Overnight Sensation: The Story of The Raspberries) and Jason Oakes of Yellow Pills magazine.

Will Birch © willbirch.com First published in Mojo, June 1994 : The 100 Greatest Classics [Mojo, June 1997]

Psychedelia USA

‘Eight Miles High’ (First Edition) — The Byrds Recorded: December 22, 1965 Available on: Fifth Dimension and The Byrds’ Greatest Hits (Columbia/Legacy)

Seven weeks after recording the simple folker ‘’, The Byrds blasted into hyperspace with this version of ‘Eight Miles High’, the first aural reproduction of the LSD rush: Gene Clark’s queasy lyric and Roger McGuinn’s Coltrane/Shankar improvisations made the plane flight the central pop metaphor for LSD’s trip into the otherworld. Recorded of RCA studios, this first, wilder version went unreleased for nearly 25 years.

‘Alabama Bound’ — The Charlatans Spring 1966 The Charlatans (One Way Records)

The first psych group was a concept dreamed up by singer/autoharpist George Hunter: swells dressed in clothes that matched the Edwardian mansions of the Haight. An LSD-drenched, summer ’65 season at the Red Dog Saloon in Nevada added the Wild West into the mix: guns, dogs, country blues. Good-timey rather than messianic, The Charlatans’ tour de force was ‘Alabama Bound’, where they stretched out Jelly Roll Morton’s tune of loss and dislocation into a new American symphony of sweet, shimmering guitars.

‘Visions Of Johanna’ — Bob Dylan May 26, 1966 and Biograph (Sony CBS)

As early as 1963’s ‘’, Dylan was exploring the egoless surrender to the universe that would characterise the first, benign phase of psychedelia. From 1965 on, his gnomic, gnostic utterances laid down the parameters for what would follow, as The Beatles, The Byrds and fell under his spell. Dylan issued disclaimers — “I never have and write a drug song…It’s just vulgar,” he exclaimed on the last night of his 1966 world tour — but this ‘Visions Of Johanna’, taken from the night before, has the infinitesimal focus of acid-time compression.

‘Blues From An Airplane’ — May 1966 2400 Fulton St and Best Of Jefferson Airplane (RCA)

Jefferson Airplane were the first SF rock group to sign with a major label, for the then unheard-of advance of $25,000. ‘Blues From An Airplane’ features first singer Signe Toly Anderson and is a good example of the turf they’d make their own: drug epiphanies translated into romantic storylines. “I’m sure of how I can be the man I feel,” cries, parading a loneliness topped off with soaring folk harmonies and acidic lead guitar.

‘Section 43′ — August 1966 The First Three EPs (One Way Records) In late ’65, Berkeley activists Country Joe And The Fish released the first version of their infamous anti-Vietnam tune ‘I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-To-Die Rag’. This seven-minute from their second self-produced EP has a fragile, first-time innocence. Dominated By David Cohen’s reedy organ, ‘Section 43′ is all fog, space and possibility — a perfect representation of the Bay Area at that time.

‘Someone To Love’ — The Great Society Summer 1966 Born To Be Burned ()

‘Someone To Love’ is one of the few accurate representations of the as it happened: teenage angst deliciously amplified to cosmic proportions, with that ballroom echo and wild, distorted guitar. The group’s ambition outstripped their ability — producer quit the studio in disgust after 50 takes — but that’s what makes them resonate still. took the song with her to Jefferson Airplane, who retitled it ‘Somebody To Love’ and went Top 5 in May 1967.

‘Electricity’ — And Summer 1966 Safe As Milk (Castle Classics)

Don Van Vliet unveiled his new look at the in summer 1966. As Gene Sculatti writes in , “The real Captain Beefheart stood up in pre-new wave plastic wraparound sunglasses, tassle-topped shriner’s fez, and a braided bandleader’s corset right out of The Music Man.” With killer drumming, horror movie and (played by ) that went straight to the third eye, Electricity surfed on the metallic pulse of the new era: “Go into bright/Find a light and know/That friends don’t mind just how you grow.”

‘Foolish Woman’ — Oxford Circle Autumn 1966 Endless Journey (Reverberations III)

From Sacramento, Oxford Circle recorded right on the garage/psych cusp. Their only 45, ‘Foolish Woman’, begins with a punk Them-style rant that, after a minute or so, runs out of spleen. There is a pause before some backwards guitar, then they’re off into the stratosphere, speeding into feedback drones. A quick restatement of the basic theme, and they’re cut dead — from misogyny to transcendence and back again, all within 2.30.

‘Feel The Music’ — Vejtables Autumn 1966 Feel…The Vejtables (Sundazed Records)

In 1965, the Vejtables followed their Autumn labelmates, The Beau Brummels, onto the national charts with the ‘I Still Love You’. A year and two female drummers later, they regrouped for an attempt at mind expansion. The requisite ego-loss is rendered by two ragalike breaks, as the guitarist wanders up and down the frets in simulation. In register, finger cymbals; at the end, a cymbal clash; and are gone in a puff of smoke. ‘Roller Coaster’ — Autumn 1966 The Psychedelic Sounds Of (Collectables Records) and The Best Of (Nectar Records)

One of the first psychedelic groups to hit nationally (with ‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’), these Texans made frequent visits to the Bay Area in the second half of 1966. Beginning quietly, ‘Roller Coaster’ soon peaks into unabashed proselytism: “You’ve got to open up your mind/And let everything came through/After the trip your life opens up/You start doing what you want to do.” Driven by ’s unearthly shrieks, the Elevators take you through every stage of the journey — eight hours compressed into 5.05.

’ — The Count September 1966 Psychotic Reaction (Edsel)

Included as much for its title and its contemporaneity, ‘Psychotic Reaction’ was justly celebrated by Lenny Kaye in his groundbreaking Nuggets collection — which, in 1972, excavated ‘60s punk for the next generation to plunder. A Top 5 hit, ‘Psychotic Reaction’ was ’ ‘I’m A Man’ as played by five gawky teens from San Jose — a punker so perfect as to inspire the rant that titled his book Psychotic Reactions And Carburetor Dung.

‘Children Of The Sun’ — The Misunderstood Autumn 1966 Before The Dream Faded (Cherry Red)

Another Yardbirds cop, perhaps the finest ever, as this Riverside, , group — transplanted to the UK — go stratospheric with a toughened up rewrite of ‘’. Dominated by Glenn Ross Fernando Campbell’s searing slide guitar, ‘Children Of The Sun’ rocks so hard you wonder how The Misunderstood could top it, and they didn’t. Like Icarus, they quickly fell to earth, draft dodgers hounded by the army and the FBI.

‘Feathered Fish’ — Sons Of Adam Autumn 1966 Mondo Mutiny (Way Back)

A total punk/psych classic, with a massive, fuzzed stop-start riff, high harmonies and wacko lyrics by none other than Love’s . Like, uh: “I don’t know/There I go.” All that we know about Sons Of Adam is that they were an LA group, affiliated with Love. Impressed by their rendition of this ferocious tune, Lee pinched drummer Mike Stuart for Love’s upcoming Da Capo album.

’7 And 7 Is’ — Love September 1966 Da Capo (Elektra)

A hyperspeed slice of acid-amped teen angst. Sample lyric: “When I was a boy I thought about the time I’d be a man/I’d sit inside a bottle and pretend that I was in a can/In my lonely room I’d slip my mind in an ice cream cone/You can throw me if you wanna ‘cos I’m a bone.” At the break, Arthur Lee counts it down” “One, two, three, four!” and then Love’s only Top 40 hit explodes in your face, leaving a fragment of the blues in its wake.

’ — October 1966 /Wild Honey and The Best Of The Beach Boys (Capital/EMI)

Recorded over six months, the final version of ‘Good Vibrations’ is a masterpiece of editing. Brian Wilson’s begins with a deceptive simplicity, all solo voice and modulation organ, but twists and turns into a full-blown theremin psych-out. It reached Number 1 in December 1966; for a brief moment The Beach Boys were ahead of The Beatles. And yes, it was the first time you heard the phrase.

‘Frantic Desolation’ — Sopwith Camel Early 1967 Hello Hello Again (Sequel)

Named to reflect the obsessions of the moment (Edwardiana, flight), SF art-schoolers Sopwith Camel are best known for their Top 30 hit ‘Hello Hello’, which rode The Lovin’ ’s sweet jug-band style for one last time in January 1967. Since having a hit was uncool, the Camel were consigned to the outer darkness — an injustice, as this unexpected slice of desperation makes clear. The eloquent fuzz solo is as pure a distillation of San Francisco as you will ever hear.

‘The Crystal Ship’ — January 1967 The Doors (Elektra)

Always the most understated and thus persuasive song from the group’s infamous first album. With images of parting, madness, surrender and death, The Doors set sail for unchartered waters and took their audience along with them. Just so you didn’t forget that they came from LA, the West Coast’s media centre, came up with some great soundbites: “I’d rather fly”; “another flashing chance at bliss”; “deliver me from reasons why”.

‘Mr Farmer’ — March 1967 More Nuggets — Classics From The Psychedelic ‘60s Vol 2 (Rhino)

LA’s finest for a season, The Seeds straddled the punk/psych divide until they went over the edge in late ’67. As the notes to their third album, Future, say, “leading the way once more back past the dragons through the crooked forest to the fairy castle surrounded by flowers and flower children playing in the sun.” This 45 was the follow-up to ‘Pushin’ Too Hard’ and, although drenched in the same cheesy organ, is more psych in its imagery and subject matter: “My Farmer, let me water your cropsss.” Now what were those little green things?

‘Keep Your Mind Open’ — Kaleidoscope April 1967 Blues From Baghdad — The Very Best Of Kaleidoscope (Edsel) All the more impressive for its restraint, this ballad was one of the first anti-war songs from within the emerging . Berkeley’s Kaleidoscope were the first to fully integrate non-Western music and pop. Here, an exotic, hothouse mood (wind chimes, Near Eastern ) is slowly undermined by gunfire swells — the Realpolitik behind psychedelia.

‘Get Me To The World On Time’ — April 1967 Psychedelia (Music Collection International)

‘Get Me To The World On Time’ was the follow-up to the Electric Prunes’ Number 11 hit ‘I Hold Too Much To Dream (Last Night)’ and, like all great follow-ups, tightened the mesh. In this case, that meant snotty vocals, mind-melting lyrics shrouding a basic teenage horniness, a killer beat and a whole battery of effects meant to induce freaking out: fuzz, wah- wah, reverb. “Here I go go go,” the band gibber on the fade, as the guitarist shoots for the stars. Top 30 US, deservedly.

‘Johnny Was A Good Boy’ — Mystery Trend May 1967 San Franciscan Nights (Rhino)

One of the first wave of SF groups, Mystery Trend took their name from a misheard line in Dylan’s ‘Like A ’. This tough punker — sped up in the cut — was their only 45. Announcing itself with breaking glass, it told a story that has since become all too familiar: the boy next door, good with kids and animals, who makes front-page news with something so unmentionable that the group doesn’t dare to name it. Great but twisted and, unsurprisingly, not a hit.

‘Omaha’ — Grape May 1967 Vintage: The Very Best Of (Columbia/Legacy)

The received wisdom that were about peace and love is exploded by records like this. Backwards guitars come at you like hammer blows, the dual-octave riff starts, and they’re off. ‘Omaha’ is nothing if not intense, a jammed-up collision of flashing guitars and ragged voices that taps the crazy, aggressive energy of a moment turning in on itself. A song from what is undoubtedly the finest first-wave SF album, Moby Grape, and a Top 30 hit in July 1967.

‘White Rabbit’ — Jefferson Airplane June 1967 and Best Of Jefferson Airplane (RCA)

Alice in Wonderland set to a bolero beat, this is Grace Slick’s record. She brought it from The Great Society, and it is her sardonic, precise vocal that gives the moral authority to the kiss- off: “When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead/And the White Knight is talking backwards/And the Red Queen is off with her head/Remember what the Dormouse said: ‘Feed Your Head! Feed Your Head!” Explicit drug propaganda and one of the oddest records ever to reach the US Top 10. ‘Hallucinations’ — Tim Buckley June 1967 Goodbye And Hello (Elektra)

To the mass media, the point of psychedelia was love. In fact, psychotropic drugs only serve to augment what is already there, and what comes across as strongly as the utopian propaganda of this period is an overwhelming sadness. Buried in an album subtly dominated by Vietnam, Buckley’s ‘Hallucinations’ are not paisley patterns but lyrical, disturbing paradigms of how loss fucks your head up.

‘Are You Gonna Be There? (At The Love-In)’ — Chocolate Watch Band June 1967 No Way Out (Sundazed Records)

From the South Bay, the Watch Band are best known for their performance in the AIP film Riot On Sunset Strip (rushed out to exploit the December 1966 Sunset Strip riots), which they enlivened with a perfect Yardbirds rip-off, ‘Don’t Need Your Lovin’’. ‘Are You Gonna Be There?’ is another Mod R&B record, written for a film called The Love-Ins: all crunch and sneer, an outsider’s view of a culture curdling into conformity.

‘Ball And Chain’ — Big Brother And The Holding Company June 1967 Cheap Thrills and 18 Essential Songs () (Columbia/Legacy)

Like most first-wave SF groups, Big Brother didn’t have much of an idea about making records. Their first album was a bunch of demos; their second a major label botch job. This live cut from the Monterey festival is the one that made them superstars. Not a second too long at 8.07, it captures the group at the height of their powers and hints at their future demise — the loser script that Janis Joplin would be required not only to sing but to live out.

‘I’m Ahead Of My Time’ — Third Bardo Summer 1967 Psychedelic Microdots 3 (Sundazed)

New York’s Third Bardo took their name from the Tibetan Book Of The Dead and recorded this lunging come-on with lyrics so perfectly pretentious that they bear printing in detail: “It may strong/But I know just where it caring ‘bout that right or wrong to life’s mystery! Just step in.”

‘Anxious Col’ — Painted Faces Summer 1967 Vol 3…Various Burnout (AIP/Archive International)

Nothing is known about the Painted Faces except that they came from Fort Myers, Florida, and they released three singles. This was their first: a marvellous encapsulation of how LSD hit nonmetropolitan America. As the group take you through all the styles they’ve learned up to this point — frat rock, Brit beat, punk — they offer the definitive summing up of the acid experience in the title phrase. ‘’ — The Beau Brummels August 1967 Triangle (Warner Brothers)

The Beau Brummels’ January ’65 hit, ‘Laugh, Laugh’, was the first creative American response to the . It also helped to finance , the label where Sly Stone attempted to produce first-wave SF groups like The Great Society and The Charlatans. Although in at the ground level of the SF boom, the group were too minor-key for the full thunder of psychedelia as it became defined. This song, from their Triangle LP, all harpsichord and chimes, hints at the secret sadness that lay beneath the wonder.

‘Broken Arrow’ — Buffalo Springfield Autumn 1967 Buffalo Springfield Again and Retrospective — The Best Of Buffalo Springfield (Atco)

In March 1967, Buffalo Springfield went Top 10 with ‘For What It’s Worth’, written after the Sunset Strip riots. The group then began to disintegrate, recording their second album on the run. Neil Young explored his ambivalence to fame in this six-minute epic (which begins with drummer Dewey Martin’s fake soul Xerox of Young’s ‘Mr. Soul’, recorded live without its author). With an ambition typical of the period, Young then vaults into American Indian mythology and thus the core reason for the shadowy absence that’s always present in America: the exterminated native race.

’ — October 1967 Strawberries Mean Love (Big Beat) and Anthology (One Way Records)

NutraSweet psychedelia, ‘Incense And Peppermints’ went to Number 1 in the US in November 1967, six months after it was first released locally an the West Coast, which tells you something about the time lag involved in hitting the mass market. By the winter, of course, the song’s uncritical acceptance of the hippy ethos was passé. For all that, it is addictive as a sugar hit, with soft harmonies and an irresistible melody.

‘The Red Telephone’ — Love November 1967 (Elektra)

What was so great about Love was that they were nasty hippies. No-one was more perfectly cast as Nero than Arthur Lee, sitting on the hillside, watching all the people die. Forever Changes cuts through the pacific pieties of 1967 with an astringent viciousness, sweetened only by Lee’s crooning vocals and David Angel’s lush orchestration. ‘The Red Telephone’ is a masterpiece of melodic bile, one source of which is made apparent in the song’s famous fade, when a noxious Uncle Tom voice offers: “All God’s chillun gotta have their freedom.”

‘Change Is Now’ — The Byrds August 30 1967 The Notorious Byrd Brothers (Columbia/Legacy)

Although they had recorded some of the best examples of the genre before there was one, The Byrds were not part of the psychedelic hierarchy. Just to show everyone, they pieced together this droning masterpiece of acid lift-off. Propelled by Chris Hillman’s pumping bass, ‘Change Is Now’ moves through a country chorus before entering serious third-eye territory with a multi-dubbed, backwards-guitar symphony. By now, when Roger McGuinn sings “dance to the day when fear is gone,” you’ve joined him.

‘(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay’ — January 1968 The Definitive Collection (One Disc) and The Definitive (Four Disc Box) (Atlantic)

For a brief moment, worlds collided as white psychedelia impacted on black dance music. Inspired by Sgt Pepper and the SF scene, Otis Redding recorded this ambient ballad of loss, travel and time (replete with sea atmospherics and seagull noises from Steve Cropper’s guitar), which, after his death in an airplane accident, went to Number 1 on both sides of the Atlantic. In that process, what had been reflective became unbearably poignant; what had been a pause became a full stop.

‘A Question Of Temperature’ — The Balloon Farm March 1968 The Story (Ace)

A throwback to the cheerful certainties of 1966 punk, this Top 40 hit features one of the best “Huhs” on record — no small achievement — and same neat catchphrases: “Cool disposition hanging by a thread”; “Nonstop elevator going to the top”. Lust reduced to pathology, the tension (and psych quotient) is kept up by trebly, fuzzed guitar and what sounds like very early Moog squiggles.

‘Dance To The Music’ — March 1968 Greatest Hits (Epic)

Waiting to launch his own vision, Sly Stone witnessed the birth pangs of the new era as house producer at Autumn Records. He took that ambition and applied it, with incredible glee, to a reconstruction of black music. ‘Dance To The Music’, the Family Stone’s first Top 10 hit, breaks up jazz, doo wop, soul and Tamla into a wholly new thing. In this psychedelic , you can hear everything that came after, from through to today’s rap.

‘Pride Of Man’ — Quicksilver Messenger Service May 1968 Quicksilver Messenger Service (EMI)

The San Franciscan bidding frenzy wasn’t always to the benefit of the musicians, many of whom had fractious relationships with record companies who had no understanding of what they’d bought. Quicksilver held out, signed late, and delivered a carefully arranged debut. This opener has unusually confident vocals and stinging lead guitar by , as metallic as that acid taste in your mouth, which backs up the lyric’s biblical curse.

‘That’s It For The Other One’ — The Grateful Dead Summer 1968 Anthem Of The Sun (Warner Brothers) The Dead were always the furthest out, but you couldn’t hear how far until 1968’s Anthem Of The Sun, recorded at and studios around the US over a six-month period. From the time when musicians talked about taping air, this 12-minute sequence mixes the thunder of the Dead in full flight with Phil Lesh’s musique concrete and a gorgeous guitar melody about seven minutes in, which by itself justifies Jerry Garcia’s reputation. A tour de force of editing and cross-fading, it carries the ambience of the moment like nothing else.

‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ — September 1968 In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (Atco)

Along with and , Iron Butterfly epitomised the moment that the lightness of psychedelia became heavy rock, a process later industrialised by . A corruption of ‘In The Garden Of Eden’, this was the title track of Iron Butterfly’s second album, which stayed on the charts for nearly three years and became one of the first million- sellers of the new era. With its Mafioso title, ponderous solos, moronic riff and ludicrously deep vocals, ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ shows that the ridiculous can be a lot of fun.

‘Magic Carpet Ride’ — Steppenwolf October 1968 16 Greatest Hits (MCA)

More psychedelic schlock, this time from exiled Canadians who hitched the SF with an existentialist name and a style that they named in their first hit ‘Born To Be Wild’: “heavy metal thunder.” This follow-up (Number 3 US in November) is even better, with its dogfight intro, definitive rock riff, Hammond organ break and spooky premonition of ‘70s pleasure- babble: “Fantasy will set you free.”

‘Songs For Our Ancestors’ — The November 1968 Sailor and The Best Of The Steve Miller Band 1968-1973 (Capital)

Steve Miller would have been successful in whichever period he came to prominence, and he was, with hits in the ‘70s and the ‘80s. For several in the late ‘60s, however, this rock pro had his game raised by the scene of which he was a part. Opening the Steve Miller Band’s second, and best, album, Sailor, ‘Song For Our Ancestors’ is Country Joe’s ‘Section 43′, two years and a lot of record company investment later: all creeping fog and bay atmosphere, with a depth of field that we would now describe as ambient.

‘Machines’ — Lothar And The Hand People November 1968 This Is It, Machines (See For Miles)

Investing heavily in the new rock, the major labels deep-trawled longhaired groups from across America. Among the quacks, false messiahs and journeymen thus given exposure were genuine oddities like this New York group. The opening cut on their first album, ‘Machines’ should have been covered by Gary Numan in the late ‘70s. Its synth blasts and automaton percussion just beg for robot dancing. ‘’ — Tommy And The Shondells December 1968 Anthology (Rhino)

Bubblegum pushed by spacey lyrics and an overdose of reverb into the last great psychedelic Number 1. Formerly best known for pulp classics ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’, ‘Hanky Panky’ and ‘Mony, Mony’, James made his move in summer 1968, when he advised Democrat presidential candidate Hubert Humphrey on youth affairs. ‘Crimson And Clover’ was the first time the group had artistic freedom, and they really hit it; for all its transparent dopiness, the song still shimmers in its own time.

‘William’ — White Lightning Early 1969 The Acid Dream’s Testament (DL)

Impossibly intense and vicious, this is Love’s ’7 and 7 Is’ several hundred trips later. Built around a monstrous treble/fuzz riff, William is both a perfect psych put-down, — “how can you be happy with a symbol for your goal?” — and an encapsulation of the moment when the movement imploded. “You think you’re making music but it’s twisted out of key,” they sneer, then rip off a distorto-solo of which Kurt Cobain would be envious.

‘Dream Within A Dream’ — Spirit January 1969 Time Circle 1968-1972 and The Family That Plays Together (Epic/Legacy)

Bookended by Ed Cassidy and , a 40-year-old jazz drummer and a teenage guitar prodigy who had worked with , Spirit had a generosity of talent that made for the most enduring records of that era. From the album The Family That Plays Together, ‘Dream Within A Dream’ coils and uncoils like a desert rattlesnake while retaining a truly psychedelic sense of wonder. “And oh my soul like some newborn baby cries.”

‘War In Peace’ — Alexander Skip Spence February 1969 Oar (Sony Special Products)

Skip Spence had lived out the breakdown of the psychedelic age, from the first Jefferson Airplane through Moby Grape and LSD psychosis to an enforced hospitalisation in New York’s Bellevue Hospital. Recording by himself in Nashville, Spence took on the multiple cracked personae of the street singer who grabs you by the sleeve. Poised between ineptitude and infinite delicacy, ‘War In Peace’ resolves the tensions of its title into, as writes, “a final version of the San Franciscan Sound, all scattered, but still gleaming.”

‘Darkness, Darkness’ — The Youngbloods Spring 1969 (Edsel)

From the same New York folk/blues scene as The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Youngbloods moved to San Francisco and went Top 5 in 1969 with the dippy ‘Get Together’, a snatch of which is parodied in Nirvana’s ‘Territorial Pissings’. Recorded decades before the hippies’ children would return to haunt them, ‘Darkness, Darkness’ is The Youngbloods’ masterpiece, a full recognition of the shadow absent from the rest of their work, given a total authenticity by one of San Francisco’s great guitar solos.

‘Electric Sailor’ — Kak Summer 1969 Kak (Epic/Legacy)

A real SF obscurity, Kak’s only album disappeared as quickly as it came. If you dig deep, however, you’ll find connections with the Oxford Circle and Blue Cheer, which makes sense. ‘Electric Sailor’ has 1969’s ponderousness, but the mood is playfully acid-fried. Their celebration of a hippy everykid, with his coffee-coloured T-shirt and striped bell pants, is bisected by a yattering, bending that pushes through into another dimension. Like they say, “You’ve got to smile if you’re from space.”

‘Mountains Of The Moon’ — The Grateful Dead (Warner Brothers)

Even more so than Dark Star, which is full of life and movement, this is the Dead at their moment of fullest outreach. Trapped within their palindrome, the band barely stirred throughout Aoxomoxoa: ‘Mountains Of The Moon’ is all harpsichord and celestial harmonies, harnessing this wasted entropy to a science-fiction scenario of weightlessness and mythical heroism worthy of Philip K. Dick. From here on in, the rest was a slow retreat.

‘Star-Spangled Banner’ — Jimi Hendrix August 18, 1969 The Ultimate Experience (Polydor) and Jimi Hendrix: Woodstock (MCA)

A blast of reality from a collective delusion. Playing to a half-asleep audience, in his blackest, most American phase, Hendrix redrew the psychic map of his own country with a solo that has everything and nothing: the rage of the black American Indian, the hallucinatory terror of the Vietnam War, the end of the hippy dream at the very moment when it seemed to have won.

PSYCHEDELIA UK

’ — The Beatles April 1966 Revolver ()

‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ takes you right into the maelstrom: shamanistic drums compressed and limited to the max; guitars fuzzed and played backwards; tape loops from five different sources all topped by John Lennon’s mutated voice, artificially double-tracked, then fed through a whirling Lesile speaker so that he’d sound like the Dalai Lama singing from the highest mountain top. The final cut on a Number 1 album in the US and UK, it immediately impacted on pop culture.

’ — The Rolling Stones May 1966 Hot Rocks and Big Hits (High Tide And Green Grass) (London) The first million-selling single (Number 1 US and UK) to open up the ethnic sonorities of what would become psychedelia. Typical for The Rolling Stones in this careening, nihilistic phase, ‘Paint It, Black’ is a total downer: “I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky.” Psychotic overtones were provided by Near Eastern humming, inward-looking lyrics and the internationally televised sight of , crosslegged and priestly, playing the sitar.

’ — The Creation July 1966 (Edsel) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Built around massive R&B bass riffs and heavy, slashing Who-inspired chords, this stomper falls right on the Mod/psych cusp. Best known for the wild break, where guitarist Eddie Philips sends the harmonics flying with a violin bow, ‘Making Time’ explodes with frustration: “Makes you sick!” they sneer, and you remember that, yes, the played Creation songs early on.

‘Season Of The Witch’ — August 1966 Greatest Hits…And More (EMI) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

A masterpiece of controlled menace, ‘Season Of The Witch’ captures the nascent psychedelic culture with its follies (“ out to make it rich”), possibilities (“When I look in my window, so many different people to be”) and paranoia, always returning to the ominous refrain, “You’ve got to pick up every stitch”, which states an essential acid fact: LSD was not an escape but a reckoning.

Ten Years Time Ago’ — The Yardbirds November 1966 (Edsel)

When asked what they were about in summer 1966, The Yardbirds replied, “Images in sound”, a claim they’d soon back up with this, their finest moment. Lyrically, ‘Happenings’ is the standard mixed-up confusion, but the song cracks open in the break, where Jeff and convert their ego battles into sensory overload: sirens, low-flying jets, seismic disturbance.

’ — Cream December 1966 and The Very (Polydor) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Beginning with a cappella vocals, ‘I Feel Free’ explodes into life with an electric Clapton guitar figure, and then they’re off: fast, hi-hat drumming, repeated high-register notes, a succinct Clapton solo, and a hyperventilating vocal. Psych lyrics: “I can drive down the road and my eyes don’t see/Though my mind wants to cry out loud/Though my mind wants to cry out loud.”

‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ — The Beatles February 1967 Magical Mystery Tour (Parlophone) When this first came on radio in early 1967, it sounded like nothing else, with its wracked vocal, out-of-tune brass section and queasy strings. There was a good reason: the final ‘Strawberry Fields’ edited together two quite distinct versions. Despite the fact that they were in different and different keys, the intimate original was sped up and the heavily scored manic second version slowed down, giving a disoriented sheen to Lennon’s trip back into his tortured childhood and orphaned adolescence.

’ — February 1967 The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn (EMI)

This 16:46 interplanetary voyage is the finest extant example of Syd Barrett’s improvisation: intuitive, free of longueurs, surprisingly delicate. As Chris Cutler writes in File under: Pop, “Barrett took the guitar into a new realm; he introduced a whole range of new techniques but, most important, an inspired and risky approach to performance. He unlocked the to a degree beyond anything that had come out of rock until that time.”

’ — Smoke February 1967 It’s Smoke Time (Repertoire)

Early UK psychexploitation. ‘My Friend Jack’ begins with a total reverb OD before making its statement of intent in the first line: “My friend Jack eats sugar lumps.” Points are awarded for the effete vocals and mystical lyrics, but everything comes down to the reverb, which slashes and shimmers throughout.

‘Days Of Pearly Spencer’ — David McWilliams Spring 1967 Remember The Pirates (EMI) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

A heavily produced folk-rock song, ‘Pearly Spencer’ couldn’t have been made in any other year. It’s something to do with the strings that swirl into the chorus with McWilliams’s compressed voice, and the detailed yet distanced underdog lyrics: “Iron trees smother the air/Withering they stand and stare/Through eyes that neither know nor care/Where the grass has gone”

‘In Your Tower’ — The Poets March 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 6 (Bom Caruso)

Glasgow’s finest, The Poets were on a dying curve when they cut this storming 45 in early 1967. Built around a flute riff and distorted (i.e. detuned) guitar, ‘In Your Tower’ is total fairly-tale medievalism and a fabulous document of how LSD impacted on the styles of the time, although I blame The Rolling Stones and ‘Lady Jane’ myself.

‘Green Circles’ — The Spring 1967 Small Faces (Repertoire) and The Very Best Of (Charly) ‘Green Circles’ was The Small Faces’ first major psych-out, a gentle tune that is dominated by high-register tack piano and mystical lyrics (“And with the rain/The Stranger came/His eyes were filled with love”) before the final -up where the sound is squeezed by a primitive form of stereo panning. ‘Circles’ seems to have been the most popular English metaphor for LSD disorientation in ’66 and ’67.

‘I Can Hear The Grass Grow’ — The Move April 1967 The Move (Repertoire) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

A big UK hit, this has everything: a killer riff, the complex Move production, percussive yip yip background vocals, Beach Boys harmonies, weird electronic alarm noises and mind- melting lyrics: “’s attracted to a magnetic wave of sound/With the streams of coloured circles making their way around.” In the final verse, some acid one-upmanship: “If you can’t smell what you’ve found/Then I know that you’re not my kind.”

‘Night Of The Long Grass’ — May 1967 The Troggs Greatest Hits (Polygram TV) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Coming off four caveman Top 10 hits — the UK equivalent of US punk — The Troggs dipped with the formulaic ‘Give It To Me’. Their next 45, ‘Night Of The Long Grass’, brilliantly adapted their two-chord trick to the new era. Wind noises segue into high female harmonies and whispered choruses of evanescent desire and loss. Major psych move: “With lips apart I thought that you were going to call my name/Instead the kiss that followed was enough to melt my brain.”

’ — Traffic May 1967 Keep On Running and The (Island) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

The first 45 by ’s second group, ‘Paper Sun’ went Number 5 UK in early summer 1967. The PR about Traffic was that they went to get their heads together in the countryside (among the Poppies), and ‘Paper Sun’, with its sinuous sitar, buzzing saxophone and Swinging London burnout lyric, has the expected looseness stiffened by a bitter, bleak undertow that stays on the tongue long after the period trappings have faded.

?’ — The Jimi Hendrix Experience: May 1967 Are You Experienced? (MCA)

Opening with backwards beats that leap forward 16 years to the scratches of , ‘Are You Experienced?’ moves through a basic come-on to something much sweeter and infinitely cosmic: “Trumpets and violins I can hear in the distance/I think they’re calling our names/Maybe now you can’t hear them, but you will (ha ha)/If you just take hold of my hand.” A great anthem, pinned to the back of your brain by martial drums, repeated high piano notes and the definitive backwards guitar solo. ‘Midsummer Night’s Scene’ — John’s Children Summer 1967 Midsummer Night’s Scene (Bam Caruso)

There’s a face disfigured with love: a real oddity from a group that epitomised the tendency to foppish violence. This 45 was scheduled as the follow-up to the banned song, ‘Desdemona’, and stakes out its currency with repeated phrase “petals and flowers”. This idiot mantra recurs through a string-breaking, freak-out solo, before Bolan crashes in with a vocal that tears the song to shreds — his final act with the group.

‘It’s All Too Much’ — The Beatles May/June 1967 Yellow Submarine (Parlophone)

An unusually sloppy Beatles recording, with an unnamed curse and overamped guitar leading into mad brass and handclaps so luscious that they sound like the chewing of a thousand cows. The lyrics are the usual domesticated UK acid fare — “Show me that I’m everywhere then get me home for tea” — but all that is subsumed within aural pleasure as The Beatles relax into the first of their long fades, a few baroque flourishes, a snatch of The Merseys’ ‘Sorrow’, then everything merges into the acid haze.

‘Colours Of My Mind’ — The Attack June 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 6 (Bam Caruso)

More detuned raga guitar and raging male hormones cloaked by pseudo-profound lyrics: “My eyes are green and yellow because they’re the roving kind.” The Attack span the journey between the basic punk/R&B and prog rock that bookends this period. ‘Colours Of My Mind’ comes from that moment when groups tried to have hits with lyrics like “Living is a habit thrust upon mankind.” Nevertheless, they rock.

’ — The Rolling Stones August 1967 More Hot Rocks: Big Hits & Fazed Cookies (Abkco)

The song of the cause celebre. A few days after their July 31 release on appeal, and went in with the other Rolling Stones and two Beatles — Lennon and McCartney — to record this glorious fuck-you masquerading as a anthem. ‘We Love You’ sounded fabulous on the radio in high summer of ’67 with its monster piano riff and arabesques hanging in the air. It was only later that you noticed the heavy walking of the prison warden at the song’s start or the sarcastic hostility of the lyrics.

’ — The Small Faces August 1967 Small Faces (Repertoire) and The Best Of The Small Faces (Summit)

One of the few UK psych records to make the US Top 20, ‘Itchycoo Park’ is a surprisingly simple production, making the most of acoustic guitar, Hammond organ and ’s white-soul voice. The sentiments could easily curdle — “I feel inclined to blow my mind” — but are given total authority by a gorgeous melody and phased cymbals that take the roof off your head, so that by the time Mariott yells “It’s all too beautiful” at the song’s fade, you’ve believed him.

‘The Stars That Play With Laughing Sam’s Dice’ — The Jimi Hendrix Experience August 1967 The Singles Album (Polydor)

Tucked away on the flip of Hendrix’s fourth single, ‘Burning Of The Midnight Lamp’, was this demented aural simulation of LSD’s stronger cousin STP. A quick wah-wah lift-off, then let MC Jimi be your guide: “The Milky Way express is floating. All aboard! I promise each and every one of you won’t be bored…Oh, I’d like to say there will be no throwing cigarette butts out the window…Thank You…Now to the right you’ll see Saturn. Outassight. And if you look to the left you’ll see Mars…”

‘Matilda Mother’ — Pink Floyd August 1967 The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn (EMI)

‘Matilda Mother’ is a perfect evocation of childhood wonder, sung by a child to his mother as she reads him stories at bedtime. The verse carries the written fairy-tale, “A thousand misty riders climb/Up high, once upon a time” alternating with the child’s point of view in the chorus: “Why d’you have to leave me there/Hanging there in my infant air, waiting!” In retrospect, such empathy masked real disturbance, but how could anyone know that heady, first-time summer?

‘Relax’ — The Who August 1967 The Who Sell Out (Polydor)

Despite their single in support of Jagger and Richards, despite their appearance at Monterey, The Who hardly embraced the new era. Their big hit from this period, ‘’, is a furious explosion. Buried deep within their hymn to pirate radio and pop commerce, ‘Relax’ is one of The Who’s sweetest songs, a trip guide enhanced by a golden, droning feedback glow: “Settle your affairs and take your time/’cos everything in the world is yours and mine.”

‘Flight From Ashiya’ — Kaleidoscope September 1967 Dive Into Yesterday (Fontana) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Another take on the flight motif, made pop as only the Brits knew how: a folkish tune, thrumming bass line, fey vocals, romantic sadness. London’s Kaleidoscope master the basic requirements of the time — the emphasised word “high”, the visions of childhood, the high (spaceship) concept — but make them their own with a curious, quavering chorus that carries a hint of psychedelia’s end, far from anywhere that you could call home: “Nobody knows where we are.”

‘Defecting Grey’ — The Autumn 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 1 (Bam Caruso) An LP’s worth of ideas in one side of a single, ‘Defecting Grey’ moves through several stages: a pulsing, bass-heavy intro; sitar-dominated verses (sitting alone on a bench with you); rave-up choruses with heavy, rock guitar; a lyrical middle eight bars; a music-hall finale; and a wistful psychout fade. Even with all this, The Pretty Things didn’t get the girl, a far cry from their days as R&B Neanderthals.

‘From The Underworld’ — The Herd Sept 1967 From The Underworld (BR Music), The Herd feat Peter Frampton (Fantana) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

The story of Orpheus and Eurydice faithfully rewritten for the teen market and goosed up with a classic 1967 overproduction: funeral bells, thundering brass, high-register piano, fuzz guitar, and that awful Rickenbacker bass you heard everywhere that year. Mythological kitsch of the highest order: “What was the sudden will to destroy the love and the joy?”

‘Michael Angelo’ — The 23rd Turnoff September 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 6 (Bam Caruso)

The Turnoff were named after the exit on the M6 highway, Junction 23. This melancholic celebration of the Renaissance artist was underscored by phased strings, ‘’ trumpets and Jimmy Campbell’s Scouse vocals. Like many other long-lost groups, the Turnoff wrote their own script: “How can it be that a man such as me/Who cares not for money and fame/Shouldn’t be rich with God’s natural gifts/To have something to show at the end of life’s game.”

’ — October 1967 The Best Of The Hollies (EMI) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Manchester’s finest, The Hollies hadn’t ignored the trend towards odd noises and inventive story lines, but hits like ‘’ kept the weirdness firmly within the . ‘King Midas In Reverse’ was their Summer of Love move into mythological allusion, with full orchestration, slurred exotic vocals, and gratifyingly pretentious lyrics. The idea, of course, was that our hero turns everything not into gold but into dust: “I’ll break you and destroy you given time.”

‘Dream Magazine’ — Svensk Autumn 1967 Electric Sugarcube Flashbacks (AIP)

Svensk run The Who’s ‘’ concept — boy falls in love with image of woman, is devastated when he realises that it’s not real — into unhealthy obsession: “Saw her picture in a dream magazine/Sweetest girl I’ve ever seen/In wide angle she’s so fine/In telephoto she is mine.” The domination of the thundering church organ shows the immediate influence of the UK Summer of Love hit, ’s ‘A Whiter Shade Of Pale’. ‘Imposters Of Life’s Magazine’ — The Idle Race October 1967 Back To The Story (EMI)

Before late-period ELO, had five years of making great records with The Move, early ELO and The Idle Race. ‘Imposters Of Life’s Magazine’ was their first 45, a compressed production typical of the period, with storming riffs, sped up wah-wah guitars, strings and the rest. What begins in media, however, ends in acid riddles: “Touch your friend’s girl. Will he mind?/Will his mind will it? Will your friends think?/In their thoughts they’re with you/Are they?”

‘San Franciscan Nights’ — And October 1967 The Best Of Eric Burdon And The Animals 1966-1968 (Polydor) and San Franciscan Daze (Debutante)

‘San Franciscan Nights’ was the most effective of all the records that exploited Haight- Ashbury that summer with its sweet melody and evocative lyrics; it’s now part of the folk memory of 1967. Debuted at Monterey in June and a UK Top 10 by November, by which time this beatific vision of Haight-Ashbury was already in the past.

’ — The Troggs October 1967 The Troggs Greatest Hits (Polygram TV)

Continuing the journey they’d begun with ‘Night Of The Long Grass’, The Troggs scored with this Summer of Love anthem disguised as a romantic ballad. Underpinned by and violins, Reg Presley makes fidelity sound like LSD lift-off: “I feel it in my fingers/I feel it in my toes/Love is all around me/And so grows.” As the strings blend with the ether at the fade, Presley waxes wistfully cosmic. Their last big hit (Number 5 UK; Number 7 US), and a fitting epitaph.

‘Vacuum Cleaner’ — Tintern Abbey November 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 6 (Bam Caruso)

Tintern Abbey, fashionably named after Arthurian legend, made this one defining 45. A simpler yet ambient production, ‘Vacuum Cleaner’ is driven by flashing cymbals and David MacTavish’s awe-struck voice. The lyrics celebrate a surrender made physical by the droning, feedback guitar break: “Fix me up with your sweet dose/Now I’m feeling like a ghost.” The group disappeared into thin air, leaving behind this perfect testament.

‘Madman Running Through The Fields’ — Dantalians Chariot Autumn 1967 The Rubble Collection Vol 5 (Bam Caruso)

All the hard-drinking loons from the mid-‘60s club scene fell like ninepins to acid and none harder than , who folded his Big Roll Band and got seriously psyched with a mythological name and this complex 45 dominated by backwards cymbals and high-pitched drone. As R.D. Laing might have said: “If reason’s gone/How do I live on?/Because I know/Which way I must go.” Note also the guitar on the great spacey fade, thanks to future Policeman .

‘Kites’ — Simon Dupree And The Big Sound November 1967 Kites (See For Miles)

A Top 10 UK hit in , ‘Kites’ is pure exotic kitsch, a straightforward love ballad embellished with the trappings of the time: gongs, woodblocks, wind sounds, flight metaphors, a Chinese rap and, dominating throughout, the Mellotron. Simon Dupree And The Big Sound affected to despise the atmospheric performance, and soon formed Gentle Giant. Shows how much rock groups know, it was by far the best thing they did.

’ — The Beatles November 1967 Magical Mystery Tour (Parlophone)

In late ’67 ‘I Am The Walrus’ sounded like nothing on earth, all bizarre effects and gobbledegook lyrics. Beginning with the two notes of a police siren, ‘I Am The Walrus’ is another classic Beatles overproduction, featuring violins, cellos and horns, the 16-strong Mike Sammes Singers — who whoop and mutter nightmarish backing vocals — and the infamous sweep across the Medium Wave on the fade. All this only serves to cloak a reversion into primal, psychosexual muck — as Lennon repeats throughout: “I’m crying.”

‘Revolution’ — Tomorrow December 1967 Tomorrow (See For Miles) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Another LP compressed onto a 45, ‘Revolution’ is the second single from one of ‘67’s big hypes. Tomorrow featured future John ‘’ Adler, future Yes guitarist , and Keith West, whose solo hit, ‘Excerpt From ’, stalled the group. ‘Revolution’ is absurdly committed to the flower-child ethic, paranoid and gloriously overproduced. This being , however, revolution was more ameliorist than in the US. Tomorrow’s programme?” All we want is peace to blow our minds.”

‘It’s Alright Ma, It’s Only Witchcraft’ — Early 1968 Fairport Convention (Polydor) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

‘It’s Alright Ma’ begins with a manifest: “Looking through the window to see which way the wind blows/It seems as though a hurricane is due today/Sunny on the outside, stormy on the inside/Stormy weather’s best for making hay.” A jazzy shuffle breaks into a boogie, then the group explode like they’ve been let out of a cage, with soaring harmonies and acid guitar from Richard Thompson. The source of this freedom? The sound that he found on the ‘Frisco way.

‘Pictures Of Matchstick Men’ — Status Quo January 1968 Picturesque Matchstickable Messages From The Status Quo (Castle Classics) Driven by a monster moronic riff, phased and wah-wahed to slice out of your transistor, ‘Pictures’ carries its obsessive nonsense with a certain good humour: “When I look up to the sky/I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow.” Top 10 UK in February, it occasioned classic TV appearances with the Quo in full 1968 regalia: paisley tunics, frills, centre hair partings, and the astonished grins of five people who couldn’t believe their luck.

‘The Otherside’ — The Apple Early 1968 An Apple A Day (Repertoire)

Another shamanistic gem from two unlikely sources: produced by future guitarist Caleb Quaye, released by Kinks/Troggs manager Larry Page. This mournful message from the underworld is The Apple’s moment: “If you see me and I’m coming from the other side/Don’t be sad because I’ll be going with the rising tide/The seeds are sown, the soil has blown my love so far away/To a land where spirits climb halfway to the sky.”

‘Faster Than Light’ — The Mirror May 1968 The Rubble Collection Vol 1 (Bam Caruso)

Some late acid omnipotence from this Bath group, who appeared nude in their publicity photos. The flip of their only single, ‘Faster Than Light’ is the sort of record that might have got wider exposure if the pirate radio stations had still been broadcasting: Mod pop with an acid sheen, bisected by a transistor-friendly, totally phased drum break that lived up to the title’s promise.

‘Rainbow Chaser’ — Nirvana May 1968 Travelling On A Cloud (Island)

Another celebration of the shaman who travels on a cloud, backed by a phased orchestra that rips through the speakers like a jet fighter: “Many miles to go/How many bridges do we cross?/Winter rain and snow/Over mountains high and low.” Nirvana had a great streak of elaborate pop psych 45s in 1967/’68. ‘Rainbow Chaser’ was the third and their only Top 40 hit. It epitomises the freedom that the Seattle group of the same name would half-mock, half- ache for 25 years later.

’ — Big Boy Pele May 1968 Electric Sugarcube Classics (AIP)

No relation to the Plastic Ono Band 45, this is a total one-of-a-kind. Set to a vicious, off-kilter Stax beat, peppered with electronic whirrings and alarms, ‘Cold Turkey’ expands on the drug- equals-love addiction theme with total panache, before being brought to a close by a fuzz explosion that makes everything else pretty redundant.

‘Me My Friend’ — Family June 1968 Music In A Doll’s House (Se For Miles) More acid omnipotence from Leicester’s finest and another kitchen-sink production (trumpets, Mellotron, stereo panning, phasing), this time by Traffic’s . Some great vocals from , some suitably fried lyrics — “Me my friend/I have seen many lands, me my friend/ I have been far and wide/I have sailed many a tide/I have rode many a ride” — all add to a precious classic. The first single from one of the period’s most enduring albums, Music In A Doll’s House.

’ — Pink Floyd September 1968 Saucerful Of Secrets (EMI)

Possibly the bleakest record ever made, as Syd Barrett withdraws from the group that he created and which was no longer his: “It’s awfully considerate of you to think of me here/And I’m most obliged to you for making it clear that I’m not here.” The song slowly lurches into a Salvation Army band break and a final, shimmering space exploration, before Barrett returns, as if from another song, intoning over an acoustic guitar his judgement on the era whose style he defined: “And what exactly is a dream?/And what exactly is a joke?”

‘Fire’ — The Crazy World Of September 1968 The Crazy World Of Arthur Brown (Polydor)

Driven by ’s monster organ riff, ‘Fire’ can now sound ludicrous, if only because it was the first to mine the fertile seam of English Gothic. It wasn’t so at the time. The charismatic Arthur Brown — with flaming headset — would shriek and twist in a truly chilling, demonic performance that burned the song’s curses into your brain: “Fire; to destroy all that you’ve done.” A harbinger of riot and disturbance, and a massive hit (Number 1 UK; Number 2 US) in that season of the Democrats’ convention in .

’1983…(A Merman I Should Turn To Be)/Moon, Turn The Tides…Gently Gently Away’ — The Jimi Hendrix Experience October 1968 (MCA)

At 14.38, Hendrix’s fullest journey into the underworld. The story-line is simple: facing Armageddon, Hendrix decides to return with his girlfriend to the sea, the source of all life. By the time we get to ‘Moon, Turn The Tides’, we’re in underwater currents. As Harry Shapiro writes: “At one point the tapes are slowed down and then speeded up again to represent a shoal of fish swimming up to investigate these strange beings that have joined their world. Their curiosity satisfied, they swim away.” Mixed in one complete take in an 18-hour session.

‘Diamond Hard Blue Apples Of The Moon’ — November 1968 The Nice Collection (Castle Communications)

Flip The Nice’s kitsch version of Leonard Bernstein’s ‘America’ and you get this soul- inflected pop/psych gem, which begins and ends with electronic noises that Hendrix wouldn’t have been ashamed of. In between you get some delightful, Mellotron-drenched nonsense — about circles, heroes, black cats and, yes, the diamond hard blue apples of the moon — that a year before might have been unremarkable but that in mid-1968 sounded like the penultimate gasp of an endangered species.

‘Can’t Find My Way Home’ — Blind Faith (Polydor) and Midsummer Night Dreams (Debutante)

Blind Faith were the first official UK supergroup, pulling in and from Cream, from Family and Steve Winwood from Traffic. Buried in the hype was this lament for a time past, sung by a Winwood adrift on stormy seas: “I’m wasted and I can’t find my way home.” This isn’t an exercise to fill out an album, it’s a matter of life and death, an intensity which makes you realise how much the latter few years had meant and how much had already been lost.

Psychedelia Revisited

‘Nude Photo’ – Rhythim Is Rhythim 1986 (Transmat US import)

Detroiter Derrick May took techno, the city’s emergent electronic , into the abstract territory of the id with his early Rhythm Is Rhythm releases. ‘Nude Photo’ predated ’s overt psychedelia and still astounds today. Bass notes sweep around a metronomic 808 pattern; tinny grace notes and a laughing female voice embellish the apparently random melody, and the whole is backlit by inhuman, oddly fatalistic strings. Where the best of the original psychedelia gave the listener a holiday from selfhood, ‘Nude Photo’ lets the listener try on a whole new personality too: that of a horny machine.

‘Acid Trax’ – Phuture 1987 (Trax US import) Various Artists album: Flux Trax (EXP)

When the synth manufacturer Roland built a set of controls into its TB-303 machine, the programmer could now alter the sound of notes while they were being played. By 1986, artists like Phuture’s DJ Pierre found that this 303 squelch could roughly simulate the sensory distortion produced by taking Ectasy. ‘Acid Trax’ is prototypical of the sound: a simple melody churning over and over on the 303, until repetition and the constant tweaking of the sound carries listeners into a mental space outside time. And when the British club audience came through a ‘70s revival phase and began to disinter ‘60s iconography, acid house was born — a shift in British music culture more profound and wide-ranging than any since the original Summer of Love.

‘Voodoo Ray’ – A Guy Called Gerald Various Artists album: Definitive House Mastercuts Vol 1 (Mastercuts/Beechwood)

One of the first British techno records, the nine-note signature melody, wordless female voices and crisp, spacey beats of ‘Voodoo Ray’ seem hardly psychedelic at all. This frisky dance tune makes no attempt to derange the senses, and neither are there any lyrics save the title vocal sample, reputedly taken from a Derek & Clive sketch. But ‘Voodoo Ray’ is second- generation psychedelia, for an era whose attitudes to perception were defined by Ecstasy (euphoric, communal, a personality reinforcer) rather than acid (introspective, random, the dismantler of the self), and its world just as transcendent as that of any record. It had to be: Gerald Simpson was working in a McDonald’s in at the time.

‘In The Name Of Love’ – Swan Lake 1988 (Warlock US import)

The psychedelia of the ‘60s sought to prove that the ego and the real world were illusions. Armed with the technology of sampling and the ideology of postmodemism, the psychedelic experimenters of the ‘80s and ‘90s wanted not to deny reality but endlessly to remake it. Swan Lake was one of many aliases for house producer Todd Terry, and ‘In The Name Of Love’ — though built strictly for the dancefloor — is a sampladelic tour de force. Yello, The Thompson Twins, an arsenal of effects and nervy, circular melodies combine into a record that sounded like the whole world of shouting at once — a vision as utopian to the ‘90s as on English country garden was to the ‘60s.

‘Paul’s Boutique’ – The 1989 Paul’s Boutique (Capitol)

The least likely psychedelic explorers of all — two years previously they’d toured the world with ‘Fight For Your Right (To Party)’ and a giant hydraulic penis — the Beasties’ second album was fashioned from so many samples that copyright lawyers recoiled in horror. Also launching the career of collaborators The Dust Brothers, it did for the hip hop sampler’s art what Pet Sounds and Sgt Pepper did for the rock album. Paul’s Boutique turned New York into an urban Pepperland, a day-glo playground for B-boys where race dissolved and the imagination reigned. Without it, such tributaries of psychedelic dance as trip-hop and chemical beats would have been uthinkable.

‘A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From The Centre Of The Ultraworld’ – The Orb 1990 The Orb’s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld (Big Life)

Pink Floyd and Lee Perry obsessives The Orb share the honours for making the first music with The KLF’s pure trance series, but their debut psychedelic epic ‘Pulsating Brain’ was more than a Floyd pastiche. Based around church bells, and a Minnie Riperton sample, it created the weightless but never structureless template that was later to be traduced into formulaic whole-noise shtick. Not only did The Orb reinvent English whimsy for a less innocent generation, they made if funny too.

‘Energy Flash’ – Beltram 1991 (R&S)

Jimi Hendrix understood that punishing repetition of a simple tune could be more psychoactive than any shapeless freakout or rustic reverie. Techno rediscovered this fact with a vengeance — who better at infinite repetition than a machine? ‘Energy Flash’ is less a tune than an insistent palpitation in the bass register. Effects and distortion arc across, but the low- end trance implacably draws us into the throbbing of our own ribcage and temples. Trance creates a private mental space in a room full of sweating people, something which the original psychedelia — rooted between the real world and the chaotic landscape of the unconscious — rarely could.

‘Analogue Bubblebath Vol 1′ – The Aphex Twin 1992 (Mighty Force)

Where so much of the mind-altering dance music of the ‘90s relies on sensory overload and displacement of the ego through force majeure, Aphex Twin Richard James instead used minimal instrumentation, unpretentious sounds and surreptitious melody to find a crack in the listener’s psyche. Insofar as the songs are about anything, they’re often about the instruments that made them. Here they create such an abstract little world in this sharp pause breaking the hectic pace of dance music — and the life it mirrors — that we begin to question both by default.

‘Cowgirl’ – Underworld 1994 Dubnobasswithmyheadman (Junior Boys’ Own)

The first psychedelic revolution was overwhelmingly middle-class and pastoral — that’s how we got prog rock. Acid house and the new psychedelia, on the other hand, are working-class and urban, and have produced an inner-city psychedelia of dislocated love songs to dirt and randomness. Underworld are its masters, spewing out street imagery over relentless 10- minute techno tracks like automatic writing. They are reticent on the subject of drugs but their music is acknowledged to be probably the most accurate depiction of the Ecstasy experience. Repetition reigns in ‘Cowgirl’, as it does in the MDMA-dosed mind, in two colliding phrases capturing the self-abstraction of Ecstasy and trance culture: “An eraser of love…I’m invisible.”

‘The Private Psychedelic Reel’ – The Chemical Brothers 1997 (Virgin)

Today’s dance music is not about escaping rock, but finding a roundabout route back to rock’s psychedelic phase. The final component — a renewed reverence for the most powerful psychoactive of all, The Beatles — ironically came courtesy of that most conventional rock band, Oasis. They made The Beatles cool again, but The Chemical Brothers dug out their subversive, revolutionary, psychedelic edge. ‘The Private Psychedelic Reel’ concludes a lineage starting with The Beatles’ ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, which obsessed Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons; the Chemicals’ own Number 1 hit ‘Setting Sun’ (a trifle which used ‘Tomorrow’ as a jump-off point for a song could sing); and the Chemical Brothers’ unreleased (indeed, unreleasable) acid house cut-up of ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ itself. ‘The Private Psychedelic Reel’ synthesises all three into a multi-sensory trip-hop- techno-hip-hop-raga fugue, an eight-minute crescendo where ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ mantra of “Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream” is violently remade for an era which has lost its faith in nirvana. Reel passes the simplest test of psychedelia (it makes you feel like you’re on drugs when you’re not) and opens up the canyon of your mind, and makes it more real than reality.

Excerpted from I Want To Take You Higher: The 1965-1969 by The Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame & Museum, published by Chronicle Books. DOZY TAKES A TRIP (AKA 'CAKE OUT IN THE RAIN') Mojo, June 1997

Once the psychedelic bandwagon picked up speed, it also picked up some unlikely passengers. Rob Chapman hops on board for a 90 minute ride down Dementia Lane

There is a splendid moment on the 1968 Troggs track Purple Shades when Reg Presley sings the line "bamboo butterflies, twice their normal size, flying around in my mind" with such disturbingly drawling West Country conviction that you want to reach for the Andover phone directory to call him up and explain that, well Reginald, a butterfly twice its normal size still isn't very large, you know. Guru Reg recently revealed on Channel 4 what inspired his flight of fancy: nothing more potent than Rich Tea biscuits and a nice cuppa...

Ah, the synthetic side of psychedelia. It matters not a jot whether the artist in question had dropped a tab or just put on a paisley shirt for the day and pretended. For an all-too-brief period in the late '60s we all got our tan from standing in the English rain, cakes went soggy, and we were reliably informed by Jim Webb that we would never have the recipe again. Sitars were wielded brazenly. Words like "saffron" and "mind" were dropped without due care and attention into choruses which had previously consisted entirely of "you're", "my" and "bird". Pop stars who only months earlier had aspired to being chassed through by a gaggle of screaming typists on their lunch breaks now came on in disc & Music Echo like Krishnamurti togged up by Lord Kitchener's Valet. (Although no matter how cool the threads, one member of the group always had to look like Barry Wom of )

Other stylistic options: a liberal sprinkling of Penny Lane trumpets; a kitchen sink approach to flange, echo and, if available, stereo panning. For vocalists the two simple syllables of the word "away" had to be spread over several bars; if combined with "blown", the song could go on indefinitely. Mercifully, it didn’t. Thanks largely to lab-cost wearing producers beamed in from Planet Straight, clarity and conciseness continued to be the watchwords, and most of these products of the Tizer-aid acid test came in at under three minutes. Even after the summer of 1968, when lengthy Hey Jude endings became obligatory (thus replacing the previous year's model, the "oh my mind's completely blown" rambling acoustic outro), most groups undertook the return trip to Pixie land in the time it takes to boil an egg.

But these beat boom defectors all seemed to bottle out so soon. Within a year of discovering their inner Scouseness and writing songs about meter maids and circus posters, The Beatles were pounding away at Fats Domino riffs and getting back to basics. Ditto most of the acts featured here. But for those of us who prefer Jelly Jungle (of orange marmalade-lade-lade) to Green Tambourine, and to (or indeed who even care enough to make the distinction), it's time to stand up, sprout fins and be counted; time to bounce up and down upon what Dave Diamond knowingly dubbed "the latex trampoline of tomorrow's promises" and claim back our scorched legacy. Oh, and the Walrus was Reg.

SIDE 1 The Cedars - For Your Information (2.38) Single (Decca) 1968 Lebanesefive-piece create balalaika-driven psych-pop classic with rather fetching pidgin English chorus: "It's time I settled down/Stopped roaming like a nomad/It's time I looked around/For a girl who would keep me glad" Group perform said platter on TOTP's new releases spot. Record sinks without a trace.

Paul and Barry Ryan - Pictures of Today (2.25) Single (MGM) 1968 The story so far: after a couple of breezy beat ballad outings, Mrs Ryan's lovely boys are transformed into shining-brained psychsters. Cue play-in-a-day sitar intro and conspicuously clever wordplay ("Ever blowing, ever glowing/never showing signs of latent fear at all"). At one point they appear to sing "someone's reading from a book and turning into Lucozade". All delivered in butter-wouldn't-melt-but- blotting-paper would harmonies.

Locomotive - Mr Armageddon (4.35) Single (Parlophone) 1969 Album: The Great British Psychedelic Trip Vol 3 (See For Miles) "I am everything you see and what is more/I am father of a thousand children/Mother of a thousand million more". Blimey. 's Radio One Record Of The Week, but best enjoyed in full LP version with extended intro, this heavy-on-the-swell-pedal piece of profundity was the work of Norman Haines, whose solo albums are now so rare you aren't even allowed to point at them.

Topo D. Bill - Jam (3.05) Single B-side (Charisma) 1969 The B-side of the legendary Withi Tai To, a cod Indian war chant originally done by American group Everything is Everything. Topo D. Bill featured 'Legs' Larry Smith and probably other contract-busting chums of Bonzo too. On the evidence of this oddball B-side penned by Tom E Cross ("We're covered in jam/Tommy and me"), a certain Who drummer wasn’t far away either. Complete with sound effects and bib-dribbling chorus of "they washed it away boo-hoo…"

The Nerve - Magic Spectacles (2.46) Single (Page One) 1968 Larry Page's was a rich source of second division paisley pop and this gem was produced by Reg "sprinkle some fucking fairy dust on it" Presley. With the aforementioned spectacles you could apparently see "magic everywhere", although you half expect Ronnie Bond to put them on during the outro and go "ere Reg, oi can zee your 'ouse in these".

Wallace Collection - Daydream (4.10) Single (Parolphone) 1969 "I fell asleep amidst the flowers/For a couple of hours/On a boo-tee-fool day". The majestic string intro has been sampled by everyone from Pharcyde to Portishead. Unfortunately daylight gradually encroaches upon magic during the Hey Jude ending as the singer shouts out what he presumably thinks are convincing rock 'n' roll exhortations to "get amidst the flowers. Yeah"

Cliff And Hank - Throw Down A Line (2.45) Single (Columbia) 1969 Strung out on cake and still smarting from losing the Eurovision Song Contest to a Spanish entry which bore a distinct resemblance to Death Of A Clown, Cliff teams up with his old Shads spar for a venture into the unknown. Accompanied by a trade secret guitar sound that’s nearer to Bolan's Beard Of Stars than Foot Tapper, Cliff sings of "hanging in a nowhere tree". A hit, so they try to repeat the formula with the eco-conscious Joy Of Living. A miss, so Hank goes back to selling Watchtower, and Cliff follows Lennon down the revolutionary trail with Power To All Our Friends.

Studio Six - Strawberry Window (2.58) Single (Polydor) 1967 Scottish beat merchants who sounded like they would rather be playing soul covers: "Ok boys, we're going to try and entice the flower children with this one, so Ronnie, if you could quote from Molly Malone and The Association's Windy in your 'freaky' intro, then we'll bring in the Strawberry Fields Forever coda before hitting Tremeloes tra-la-la territory at full tilt. Oh, and don't forget the Ivy League harmonies. We don’t want to alienate Radio One…" Warning: a strawberry window can only be looked through while wearing "magic spectacles"

Roger Earl Okin - I Can't Face The Animals (2.40) Single B-side (Parlophone) 1967 A true obscurity. Even the freak-beat faithful don’t know about it. That’s because it owes its cult status to the crowd, whose role in retrieving psych oddities has frequently been overlooked. Earl Okin now makes his living as a Radio Two-friendly song-and-joke man, but back then he was hiding genius like this on Bsides. Animals is what reviewers at the time would have referred to as "a brass-led stomper". Baton-wielding by Zack 'Mr Bloe' Lawrence.

Cilla Black - Abyssinian Secret (2.11) EP: Time For Cilla (Parlophone) 1968 Album: Liverpool 1963-68 (See For Miles) Cilla wants to show you something that’s "quite unique" which she picked up on a "trip" to Abyssinia. (You can be sure she didn’t inhale. Better hide it in the pantry with your cupcakes). Our Cilla's one and only entry into kaftan-and-bells territory was penned by - well knock me down with an eight-foot chillum - Roger Earl Okin. He also wrote Helen Shapiro’s psych-soul classic Stop And You'll Become Aware. Step forward, sir, your 15 minutes await.

Stavely Makepiece - I Wanna Love You Like A Mad Dog (3.40) Single (Pyramid) 1969 A phasing-drenched bit of English oompah whose flip, Greasy Haired Woman, was 30 seconds long. Alan Freeman regularly featured both sides in Unit 2 of Pick Of The Pops. But what's this? The tack piano, the bouncing beat, the Woodward-Fletcher writing credit. Can it be the future Lieutenant Pigeon? 'Fraid so.

The Fortunes - The Idol (2.50) Single (United Artists) 1967 Lieber & Stroller rated their Greenaway & Cook-penned You've Got Your Troubles as one of the best English pop records ever, but by the Summer of Love The Fortunes were floundering. This self-penned, Glyn Johns-produced, raw-edged item was all about a with designs on saving the world but meanwhile he had all these groupies to service. Lots of pirate station foreplay. Zero chart penetration.

Harpers Bizarre - I Love You Alice B. Toklas (2.20) Single (Warner Bros) 1969 "I love you Alice B. Toklas and so does Gertrude Stein/I love you Alice B. Toklas/I wanna change your name to mine." Well we've all been there, haven't we? Peter Sellers starred in the film of the same name, loosely based on the woman who indeed gave us the recipe that we'll never have again.

The Hollies - Pegasus (2.35) Album: Butterfly (Beat Goes On) 1968 "I'm Pegasus the flying horse" tweets the lead singer. No you’re not. You're Alan from Salford and you'd be happier supping a pint than dressed in a kaftan and embracing all this mythological malarkey. Within a year you will be so annoyed with your mate Graham for making you sing this twee nonsense that you will banish him to the West Coast of America where he will be forced to make records with David Crosby. He'll be back with his tail between his legs before you can say . You'll see.

The Garden Club - Little Girl Lost And Found (3.00) Single (A&M) 1967 Covered in the UK by the less convincing Peter And The Wolves, this swirling fairground organ opus in 3/4 is, in its own sweet way, as beautiful a song about the loss of innocence as Brian Wilson's Caroline No. "They are all searching for clues for the whereabouts of the girl with the -dot eyes" chirps the singer. Weren't we all?

SIDE 2 Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick And Tich - The Sun Goes Down (2.55) Single B-side (Fontana) 1967 Cue Gregorian-lite chant and an ultra-brittle wah-wah guitar solo for a lost epic tucked away on the B- side of Zabadak. Not so surprising-Dave Dee could always enunciate his Os in the fluting Syd style. The final verse commences with Dee screeching, apropos of nothing. "The mentals!" Probably a Wiltshire thing.

DBM&T - Mr President (3.05) Single (Fontanta) 1970 "When I grow up to be a man/I wont lie for you/I wont die for you…" DBM&T from their post-Dave Dee 'going heavy' period. (A doctor writes: "Going heavy was a condition which afflicted many otherwise sane beat groups in the late 1960s. In extreme cases it resulted in a shortening of the group's name - eg Love Affair became LA and an immediate withering away of the 'hit' gland. The Tremeloes are thought to have been the source of the virus") Naturally Mr President failed to dent the charts but it does contain the best wooh-weeeeow synth solo this side of ELP's Lucky-Man.

Manfred Mann - Ski 'Full Of Fitness' Theme (3.05) Single (Ski) 1971 Like many others of a purist persuasion (The Yardbirds, Simon Dupree, Jethro Toe, etc) the Manfreds were not content with just making great pop singles; they couldn’t wait to inflict their technical proficiency upon us. Ask yourself this: would you rather listen to or Renaissance? Kites or Gentle Giant? Life's A Long Song or Passion Play? 's Earth Band or a chirpy yoghurt commercial. Lets ask the girls first, shall we?

Dave Diamond And Higher Elevation - Diamond Mine (2.10) Single (Chicory) 1967 Dave Diamond was a DJ on KFRC who specialised in alliterative gobbledegook - a cosmic Slim Gaillard, if you will. On this number he uses up a lifetime's quota of psychedelic wordplay in just over two minutes. But here's the twist: at a time when the authorities were looking for drug references in every innocuous sentiment, Dave sneaks through a song of explicit carnality dressed in druggy imagery. "The fur lined volcano"? "The peach fuzz forest"? "The gentle radiation of the one-eyed cufflink"? I mean, c'mon.

Napoleon XIV - I'm Normal (2.16) Album: They're Coming To Take Me Away Ha Ha (Warner Bros) 1966 "I painted everything in my house purple/My fingernails/My potato peeler/STAY AWAY FROM MY FROGS!" Using the same backing track as They're Coming To Take Me Away Ha Ha (a zeitgeist record if ever there was one), Napoleon once again exploits the misfortunes of the unstable. Apparently they did come and take him away as well.

Matt Munro - We're Gonna Change The World (3.35) Single (Capital) 1970 A rousing affair in which the former Luton bus conductor with the Sinatra tonsils adopts a social conscience, urges us all to "throw away our ostrich notions" and join those nice flower children on the long march towards peace and free duffle coats on the . Possibly the only to contain the line "stopped and had a Thermos brew".

Vince Hill - When The World Is Ready (3.11) Single (Columbia) 1967 An Exodus-style opening. The clouds part to reveal the likeness of Vince in convincing wig and love . "When the world is ready/All wars will cease", he decrees. A session sitarist wails plaintively. Come to think of it, has anyone tried smoking Edelweiss?

Grimble Wedge And The Vegetations Aka Peter Cook - Bedazzled (2.23) Album: Bedazzled soundtrack (Decca) 1968; and Circus Days: Pop-Sike Obscurities Vol 1 1966-70 (Strange Things) 1988 From Stanley Donen's irreverent take on the Seven Deadly Sins in which Cook ("Does the name of Darkness mean anything to you?") plays the devil and ruins Dud's dreams (many involving Eleanor Bron). Although conceived as a pastiche, some of the go-go dancing is the best ever seen in a '60s film. "You drive me wild" coo the girls. "You fill me with inertia" drawls Cook, with drop-dead ennui. We'll not see his like again.

Friends - Mythological Sunday (5.16) Single (Deram) 1968 Album: The Flowerpot Men Lets Go To San Francisco (Beat Goes ON) 1988 Aka Carter-Lewis and heavy friends. Aka The Ivy League. Aka The Flowerpot Men. Never forgotten that these guys wrote the Nuggets classic My World Fell Down. Mythological Sunday is the full kitchen sink job. Every psych cliché in the book is dusted down and given a fresh coat of day-glo. Bassist Neil Landon subsequently joined . Singer Tony Burrows joined Edison Lighthouse. It’s a thin line, all right.

Dick Shaw - Love Power (2.45) Album: The Producers soundtrack (RCA) 1967 The best moment in Mel Brooks The Producers occurs when they audition the Fuhrers. Onto the stage our Dick aka Lorenzo Say Dubois (geddit?) as the befuddled off-Broadway hippy. Backed by a swinging chick trio he commences a gentle ode to the joys of flowers before rising to a Manson-esque crescendo of thwarted ambition and crushed petals. "THAT'S OUR HITLER!"

The Four Seasons - Genuine Imitation Life (6.15) Album: The Genuine Imitation Life Gazette (Philips) 1969 Reviled at the time as an ingratiating attempt to get a little underground action, the Seasons Four indicate that you can still pull it off if you had a lead singer as good as Frankie Valli and producers as sharp as Gaudio and Crewe. Genuine Imitation Life is a bittersweet an observation on hippy foibles as Joe South's Games People Play. Contains obligatory Hey Jude ending.

The Beatles - What's The New Mary Jane (6.07) Album: Anthology 2 (Apple) 1996 "She like to be married with yeti/He groovin' such cookie spaghetti/She jumping as Mexican bean/To make her body more thin" Imagine a parallel past in which this had been seriously offered up as the new Beatles single. By now we would all have evolved into other dimensional cube beings with suction pads instead of senses. Lennon's lysergic visions could be as out there as anything Syd Barrett conjured up. No one, I think, was in his tree.

Richard Harris - Paper Chase (2.13) Single B-side (RCA Dunhill) 1968 Pressed neatly underneath the epic MacArthur Park was this baroque little gem from the inky quill of Jim Webb. "Accompany me on your trusty harpsichord, James" spoke Richard. "For I am going to apply my finest thespian brogue to your delightful ditty of unrequited lust. And this time I will endeavor to hit some of the right notes.