Skip to main content

Will We Be Together, Someday?: “When Will I See You Again” by The Three Degrees







The first of just two appearances by the Philly sound of Gamble and Huff, but this already sounds like an elegy for an age; barely two years into their run of success, Philly already sounded as though it were saying farewell here – the elegiac Cinemascope strings, the hymn-like enunciation of the song’s title. Essentially it’s “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?” grown up and saddled with a mortgage, but with tomorrow’s promise still distant and opaque, although the physical distress is more pronounced (“Will I have to suffer and cry the whole night through?”).


Listening to the record, it’s clear how its axis is Bobby Parker’s electric piano, which simmers, frames and provides the cooling waterbed undertow to offset lead singer Sheila Ferguson’s contained paranoia and suppressed rage. Nonetheless, it is remarkable that this is one of the very few major pop hits whose lyric, backing vocals and ad-libs notwithstanding, consists entirely of questions. As 1974 draws to a close, the unasked/unanswered question might be: will you still need us in 1975?




Date Record Made Number Two: 14 December 1974
Number Of Weeks At Number Two: 1
Record At Number One: “Kung Fu Fighting” by Carl Douglas
UK Chart Position: 1
Other Information: On British television in 2006, the song was used to soundtrack a Food Standards Agency advertisement warning of the dangers of not cooking your sausages for long enough on the barbecue. “When will I see you again?” they query. “Sooner than you think if you don’t cook them properly,” the caption retorts. Precious moments indeed)

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