Memphis Acidity: “Cry Like A Baby” by The Box Tops

The Box Tops were still riding on the success of their brief (as in lasting under two minutes) 1967 number one hit “The Letter,” a record whose success owed much to Vietnam but which sounds more like the last record ever to be made, a breathless, desperate communiqué from someone who knows he doesn’t have much time left – I am reminded of the scene in Threads when Jimmy tries to run across Sheffield towards Ruth’s house but the bomb drops before he can get there (the record’s closing sound-effects play like the world being vapourised).

Mindful of one thing or another, their record company opted to use other musicians on the follow-ups, such that the teenage Alex Chilton is the only Box Top who appears on “Cry Like A Baby.” Not that that’s a loss; on the contrary, Dan Penn’s production and Wayne Jackson’s arrangement drive Chilton towards a particularly intense vocal performance (Penn co-wrote the song with Spooner Oldham). It does sound a little like Alex Sings Aretha, but again the record’s elements – Reggie Young’s electric sitar, the bass of Tom Coghill (who also played on “Chain Of Fools”), the cutting organ of Bobby Emmons – all balance each other out. One of the era’s great white soul recordings – and if you listen carefully, you might even catch Chilton already thinking about Big Star. One might even picture Elvis singing this.

Date Record Made Number Two: 27 April 1968

Number Of Weeks At Number Two: 2

Record At Number One: “Honey” by Bobby Goldsboro

UK Chart Position: 15

Comments

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

Raise All Kinds Of Candy To The Stars

Search This Blog