Skip to main content

Damn You, Silent Majority America!: “Chain Of Fools” by Aretha Franklin



Written by soul star Don Covay in his gospel-singing youth – although a version also appeared on record in 1967, credited to Don Covay and The Goodtimers – “Chain Of Fools” reaches right back into Biblical fundamentals, and Aretha rips its church of regret wide open to allow it to burn with her fury. Covay demoed the song for Atlantic’s Jerry Wexler, initially with a view to Otis Redding singing it, but Wexler wisely thought it much more suited to Aretha.

Her record is a catalogue of sin-damning chastisement, as though it is not just an errant man whose ways she is decrying, but an entire culture. All the record’s elements coalesce into a fiery ball – Arif Mardin’s arrangement, Joe South’s astonishing, almost slackerly lead guitar which could have bounced off a Velvet Underground record, Roger Hawkins’ startling drumming, and even Spooner Oldham’s subtly accusatory electric piano in the midst of the mix, as well as the ominous backing vocals (Erma and Carolyn Franklin, and Ellie Greenwich). This “Chain Of Fools” serves notice that, far from being a mellow, sunny continuation of 1967, 1968 was going to be a tough, and even painful, year.

Date Record Made Number Two: 20 January 1968
Number Of Weeks At Number Two: 2
Record At Number One: “Judy In Disguise (With Glasses)” by John Fred and his Playboy Band
UK Chart Position: 37 (as half of a double A-side with “Satisfaction”)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Threads Of Alligator Lizards In The Air: “Purple Rain” by Prince and The Revolution

The original idea was for a country-style collaboration with Stevie Nicks, to whom Prince sent a ten-minute instrumental backing track, asking her to come up with some lyrics. However, Nicks was overwhelmed by what she heard and feared that the task was too much for her to take on, so the song was reworked in rehearsal with The Revolution, utilising Wendy Melvoin’s guitar phrasing as a new guideline. The song appears to have existed before the film; Purple Rain the movie is best described as lucid hokum, but its soundtrack changed the atoms which constituted “pop,” far more so than much ostensibly radical music of the period. For many of that decade’s generation, Purple Rain the soundtrack was “our” Ziggy Stardust – better conceived, performed and produced in every way – and the title song, which closes the album, was “our” “Rock ‘N’ Roll Suicide.” It is such a patient epic, the song, and about a lot of things, and people – each of the verses addresses a different su

A Pre-Emptive, Though Hopefully Temporary, Bowing Out: “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me” by Elton John

This isn’t quite the last piece of music I’ll be writing about before taking a long break from writing this blog (and most other things) – there’s one more song tomorrow that I’ve been persuaded to write up before I disappear – but the situation is this; I am imminently due to go into hospital for major surgery to treat a long-standing and hugely-annoying hernia. This should have been sorted out years ago but for reasons too tedious to document it’s only being sorted out now. It is going to be a long, fairly complex and in places possibly pioneering procedure. I am being operated on by world-class surgeons whom I trust implicitly and there has been much liaison between my local hospital (where I’ll be going) and the hospital where I myself work to enable this to happen. However, I have to warn you that the procedure carries a fairly high risk of what medical people call “morbidities,” mainly to do with breathing and cardiac issues, for which I will be closely monitored in I

“I Would Have Thought In The Middle Of The Atlantic In The Middle Of The Night That Rockets Must Mean Trouble”: “I’m Not In Love” by 10cc

"watching for night, with absinthe eye cocked on the lone, late, passer-by." (Sylvia Plath, "Prospect," 1956) This story begins in 1954, before most people had really recognised anything called rock, and a pop record which is half-perfect. That record, which stayed at number one in our charts for ten weeks, was “Cara Mia” by David Whitfield with Mantovani and his Orchestra and Chorus. Now, Whitfield was never the most subtle of singers and his in-your-face bellowing is somewhat distracting – it is significant that he was the first British reality media star (not from television, because at that time Opportunity Knocks was only broadcast on Radio Luxembourg) since his climactic high C at the end of “Cara Mia” is like a display of gymnastics, or an athletic field event; can he do that triple loop or throw that javelin beyond the stadium? It proves that technical prowess can often render itself unlistenable. But the magic here lies in the extraordinary