One of the best West Coast folk-rock/psychedelic bands, Love may have also been the first widely acclaimed cult/underground group. During their brief heyday -- lasting all of three albums -- they drew from Byrds-ish folk-rock, Stones-ish hard rock, blues, jazz, flamenco, and even light orchestral pop to create a heady stew of their own. They... [+] Read More

One of the best West Coast folk-rock/psychedelic bands, Love may have also been the first widely acclaimed cult/underground group. During their brief heyday -- lasting all of three albums -- they drew from Byrds-ish folk-rock, Stones-ish hard rock, blues, jazz, flamenco, and even light orchestral pop to create a heady stew of their own. They were also one of the first integrated rock groups, led by genius singer/songwriter Arthur Lee, one of the most idiosyncratic and enigmatic talents of the 1960s. Stars in their native Los Angeles and an early inspiration to the Doors, they perversely refused to tour until well past their peak. This ensured their failure to land a hit single or album, though in truth the band's vision may have been too elusive to attract mass success anyway.

Love was formed by Lee in the mid-'60s in Los Angeles. Although only 20 at the time, Lee had already scuffled around the fringes of the rock and soul business for a couple of years. In addition to recording some flop singles with his own bands, he wrote and produced a single for Rosa Lee Brooks that Jimi Hendrix played on as session guitarist. Originally calling his outfit the Grass Roots, Lee changed the name to Love after another Los Angeles group called the Grass Roots began recording for Dunhill. Love's repertoire would be largely penned by Lee, with a few contributions by guitarist Bryan MacLean.

Inspired by British Invasion bands and local peers the Byrds, Love built up a strong following in hip L.A. clubs. Soon they were signed by Elektra, the noted folk label that was just starting to get its feet wet in rock (it had recorded material by early versions of the Byrds and the Lovin' Spoonful, and had just released the first LP by Paul Butterfield). Their self-titled debut album (1966) introduced their marriage of the Byrds and the Stones on a set of mostly original material and contained a small hit, their punk-ish adaptation of Bacharach/David's "My Little Red Book."

Love briefly expanded to a seven-piece for their second album, Da Capo (1967), which included their only Top 40 hit, the corkscrew-tempoed "Seven & Seven Is." The first side was psychedelia at its best, with an eclectic palette encompassing furious jazz structures, gentle Spanish guitar interludes, and beautiful baroque pop with dream-like images ("She Comes in Colors"). It was also psychedelia at its most reckless, with the whole of side two taken up by a meandering 19-minute jam. It was still a great step forward, but by mid-1967, the band was threatening to disintegrate due to drugs and general disorganization.

The group was in such sad shape, apparently, that Elektra planned to record their third album with sessionmen backing Lee (on his compositions) or MacLean (on his compositions). Work on two tracks actually commenced in this fashion, but the shocked band pulled themselves together to play their own material again, resulting in one of the finest rock albums of all time, Forever Changes. An exceptionally strong set of material graced by captivating lyrics and glistening, unobtrusive horn and string arrangements, it was not a commercial hit in the U.S. (though it did pretty well in Britain) but remains an all-time favorite of many critics.

Just at the point where they seemed poised to assert themselves as a top band, Love's first and best lineup was broken up in early 1968, at Lee's instigation. Several albums followed in the late '60s and early '70s that, though credited to Love, are in reality Lee and backup musicians -- none of whom had skills on the level of Bryan MacLean or the other original Love men. Lee largely forsook folk-rock for hard rock, with unimpressive results, even when he was able to get Jimi Hendrix to play on one track. The problems ran deeper than unsympathetic accompaniment: Lee's songwriting muse had largely deserted him as well, and nothing on the post-Forever Changes albums competes with the early Elektra records.

Lee released a solo album in the early '70s, and then put another Love together for one last effort in 1974, but basically Love/Lee (the two had in effect become synonymous) ground to a halt in the mid-'70s. Lee has sporadically recorded and performed since then without coming up with anything resembling a unified full-length studio statement, though some scattered live and studio recordings have appeared, including a 1994 single on the tiny Distortions label. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide [-] Hide

With a hit-single track record spanning four decades, Burt Bacharach became one of the most important composers of popular music in the 20th century, almost equal to such classic tunesmiths as George Gershwin or Irving Berlin. His sophisticated yet breezy productions borrowed from cool jazz, soul, Brazilian bossa nova, and traditional pop to... [+] Read More

With a hit-single track record spanning four decades, Burt Bacharach became one of the most important composers of popular music in the 20th century, almost equal to such classic tunesmiths as George Gershwin or Irving Berlin. His sophisticated yet breezy productions borrowed from cool jazz, soul, Brazilian bossa nova, and traditional pop to virtually define and undoubtedly transcend the staid forms of Brill Building adult pop during the 1960s.

Born May 12, 1928, in Kansas City, he studied cello, drums, and piano as a child, and was later transplanted to New York City by his father, a syndicated columnist. The time spent in New York gave him a chance to sneak into clubs to watch his bebop heroes Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker; he also played in several jazz bands during the 1940s. Bacharach studied music theory and composition at the Mannes School in New York, at Berkshire Music Center, at the New School for Social Research (with Darius Milhaud), at Montreal's McGill University, and at the Music Academy of the West in Santa Barbara, CA. A period in the Army interrupted his concentration of music study, but even while serving in Germany, Bacharach arranged and played piano for a dance band. He also played in nightclubs and backed Steve Lawrence, the Ames Brothers, and Paula Stewart. Bacharach was discharged in 1952, and he married Stewart on December 22nd of the following year.

On returning to the U.S., he began writing songs for Lawrence, Patti Page, the Ames Brothers, and others, but his first hit came from Marty Robbins in late 1957 when Robbins took "The Story of My Life" to the American Top 20 and the number one spot in England. The single was also notable for its co-composer, Hal David, who became Bacharach's songwriting partner and collaborated on most of his big hits. The Bacharach/David team followed up in January 1958 with Perry Como's "Magic Moments," another U.K. chart-topper and a Top Five entry in America. Bacharach's marriage dissolved in 1958, and he left for Europe to tour with Marlene Dietrich. He returned in 1961, and wrote several songs for the Drifters with Bob Hilliard (including "Mexican Divorce" and "Please Stay") before reuniting with Hal David. At an arranging session, he found the singer who became the ultimate vehicle for his songs: Dionne Warwick who was working as a member of the Drifters' backup vocal group, the Gospelaires.

By late 1962, Bacharach and David began focusing most of their composing energy on Warwick, who was the recipient of 15 Top 40 singles from 1962 to 1968 (including the Top Tens "Anyone Who Had a Heart," "Walk on By," "Message to Michael," "I Say a Little Prayer," "Valley of the Dolls," and "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?"). The duo also remained dominant in England, where Frankie Vaughan, Cilla Black, Sandie Shaw, the Walker Brothers, and Herb Alpert all hit number one with Bacharach/David compositions. As if their schedule wasn't busy enough throughout the '60s, the songwriters contributed film scores for What's New Pussycat?, Alfie, and Casino Royale. The film featuring their most celebrated score, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), won Oscars for Best Original Score and Best Theme Song for "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" (plus two non-musical Academy Awards). Bacharach and David began working on the musical Promises, Promises in the late '60s; it won a Tony and a Grammy Award (for cast album) during a popular three-year Broadway run. Bacharach hit the charts himself in 1969, with the show's "I'll Never Fall in Love Again" reaching the Top 100. Surprisingly, this was not his only foray into recording; Bacharach had reached number four in the U.K. charts in May 1965 with "Trains and Boats and Planes," and he released several popular solo albums during the late '60s.

The beginning of the '70s looked bright for Burt Bacharach, as the Carpenters took "(They Long to Be) Close to You" to number one in the U.S. in July 1970. The forecast was premature, though, as three of his closest partners -- Hal David, Dionne Warwick, and his second wife Angie Dickinson -- left him. He gathered several accolades for an eponymous 1971 album featuring renditions of his previous hit compositions, but later albums were disappointing and Bacharach's next hit was over a decade in coming. Finally in 1981, he collaborated with Christopher Cross, Carole Bayer Sager, and Peter Allen on the Oscar-winning "Arthur's Theme." Bacharach married Bayer Sager just one year later, and together they wrote Roberta Flack's Top 20 hit "Making Love," as well as "Heartlight" which Neil Diamond took to number five.

Once Bacharach resumed composing he began to hit, and 1986 was one of his finest years, with two American number ones: "That's What Friends Are For" (by an all-star group including Warwick, Elton John, Gladys Knight, and Stevie Wonder) and a duet by Patti LaBelle and Michael McDonald titled "On My Own." He divorced Sager in 1991, but worked with Dionne Warwick again two years later on "Sunny Weather Love," from her Friends Can Be Lovers album. Also in 1993, Bacharach contributed songs to James Ingram, Earth, Wind & Fire, and Tevin Campbell. Around the same time, many alternative bands began name-checking the hitmaker as an influence, and Oasis frontman Noel Gallagher joined him on the stage of the Royal Albert Hall as well as including a picture of him on the cover of Oasis' Definitely Maybe. BBC-TV focused on Bacharach in a January 1996 documentary, and a three-disc retrospective of his compositions was released by Rhino in 1998. That same year he collaborated with Elvis Costello on the acclaimed Painted From Memory, and was celebrated at an all-star concert at Radio City Music Hall which later formed the basis for the LP One Amazing Night. The 2005 album At This Time found Bacharach writing lyrics for the first time. Tonio K helped with the lyrics, Elvis Costello, Dr. Dre, Chris Botti, and Rufus Wainwright also contributed to the album. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide [-] Hide

This New York group pioneered "Baroque'n'Roll" in the '60s with their mix of pop/rock and grand, quasi-classical arrangements and melodies. Featuring teenage prodigy Michael Brown as keyboardist and chief songwriter, the group scored two quick hits with "Walk Away Renee" (number five) and "Pretty Ballerina (number 15). Chamber-like string... [+] Read More

This New York group pioneered "Baroque'n'Roll" in the '60s with their mix of pop/rock and grand, quasi-classical arrangements and melodies. Featuring teenage prodigy Michael Brown as keyboardist and chief songwriter, the group scored two quick hits with "Walk Away Renee" (number five) and "Pretty Ballerina (number 15). Chamber-like string arrangements, Steve Martin's soaring, near-falsetto lead vocals, and tight harmonies that borrowed from British Invasion bands like the Beatles and the Zombies were also key elements of the Left Banke sound. Though their two hits are their only well-remembered efforts, their debut album (Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina) was a strong, near-classic work that matched the quality of their hit singles in songwriting and production.

The group's internal dynamic wasn't nearly as harmonious as their sound, and their history goes some way towards explaining their short career. Initially, the group made some recordings that were produced by Brown's father, Harry Lookofsky. When these recordings failed to interest companies in signing the band, the Left Banke broke up, Brown moving to California with the group's original drummer. A backing track for "Walk Away Renee" had already been completed, and the other members overdubbed vocals in Brown's absence. The song was released on Smash and became a hit, and the musicians reunited to tour and continue recording.

Unfortunately, the group, which showed such tremendous promise, was quickly torn asunder by dissension. Due to the nature of their music (which often employed session musicians), the Left Banke's sound was difficult to reproduce on the road, and one could sympathize with Brown's wishes to become a Brian Wilson-like figure, concentrating on writing and recording while the rest of the musicians took to the road. A variety of guitarists, as both session musicians and ostensible group members, flitted in and out of the lineup; Rick Brand, credited as the guitarist on the first LP, actually plays on only one of the album's songs. Adding fuel to the fire, Brown's bandmates wanted to oust Brown's father as the act's manager. In early 1967, Brown went as far as to record a Left Banke single without them, using vocalist Bert Sommer.

That single ("And Suddenly") flopped, and for a brief time in September 1967 the original members were recording together again. After just one single ("Desiree"), though, Brown left for good. Most of the group's second and final album, The Left Banke Too, was recorded without him. While it still sported baroque arrangements and contained some fine moments, Brown's presence was sorely missed, and the record pales in comparison to their debut. Brown went on to form a Left Banke-styled group, Montage, which released a fine and underappreciated album in the late '60s. He later teamed up to form Stories with vocalist Ian Lloyd.

There were some confusing son-of-Left Banke recordings over the next few years, although the band really came to a halt in 1969, after the second album. Brown, Martin, and unknown musicians made a few recordings in late 1969; then, oddly, the original group reformed for a fine early 1971 single on Buddah ("Love Songs in the Night"/"Two by Two"), although the record itself was credited to Steve Martin. And the original group, minus its key visionary Michael Brown, made an album's worth of ill-advised reunion recordings in 1978. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide [-] Hide

The Association was one of the more underrated groups to come out of the mid- to late '60s. Creators of an enviable string of hits from 1966 through 1969, they got caught in a shift in popular culture and the unwritten criteria for significance in that field and never recovered. The group's smooth harmonies and pop-oriented sound (which... [+] Read More

The Association was one of the more underrated groups to come out of the mid- to late '60s. Creators of an enviable string of hits from 1966 through 1969, they got caught in a shift in popular culture and the unwritten criteria for significance in that field and never recovered. The group's smooth harmonies and pop-oriented sound (which occasionally moved into psychedelia and, much more rarely, into a harder, almost garage-punk vein) made them regular occupants of the highest reaches of the pop charts for two years -- their biggest hits, including "Along Comes Mary," "Cherish," "Windy," and "Never My Love," became instant staples of AM play lists, which was a respectable achievement for most musicians at the time. That same sound, along with their AM radio popularity, however, proved a liability as the music environment around them changed at the end of the decade. Additionally, their ensemble singing, essential to the group's sound and appeal, all but ensured that the individual members never emerged as personalities in their own right. The Association was as anonymous an outfit as their contemporaries the Grass Roots, in terms of any individual names or attributes, despite the fact that both groups generated immensely popular hits that millions of listeners embraced on a deeply personal level.

The group's roots go back to a meeting in 1964 between Terry Kirkman, a Kansas-born, California-raised music major, proficient on upwards of two dozen instruments, and Jules Alexander, a Tennessee-born high school drop-out with an interest in R&B who was a budding guitar virtuoso. Alexander was in the U.S. Navy at the time, serving out his hitch, and they agreed to link up professionally once he was out. That happened at the beginning of 1965, and they at once pursued a shared goal, to put together a large-scale ensemble that would be more ambitious than such existing big-band folk outfits as the New Christy Minstrels and the Serendipity Singers. The result was the Men, a 13-member band that played folk, rock, and jazz, who earned a spot as the house band at the L.A. Troubadour. The group's promising future was cut short, however, when the group's lineup split in two after just a few weeks with seven members exiting. The remaining six formed the Association, the name coming at the suggestion of Kirkman's wife Judy.

Ted Bluechel, Jr. was their drummer, Brian Cole played bass, Russ Giguere was on percussion, and Jim Yester, brother of Easy Riders/Modern Folk Quartet alumnus Jerry Yester, played rhythm guitar behind Alexander. Each member was also a singer -- indeed, their vocal abilities were far more important than their skills on any specific instruments -- and several were multi-instrumentalists, able to free others up to play more exotic instruments on stage. The group rehearsed for six months before they began performing, developing an extremely polished, sophisticated, and complex sound.

The Association shopped itself around Los Angeles but couldn't do any better initially than a single release on the Jubilee label -- their debut, "Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You," wasn't a success, nor was their subsequent 1965 recording of Bob Dylan's "One Too Many Mornings" on Valiant Records, which was an early folk-rock effort that was probably a little too complex for national exposure -- though it got decent local radio play in Los Angeles. The group came completely into its own, however, with the recording of the singles "Along Comes Mary" and "Cherish."

The recording of those songs was to set a new standard in the treatment of rock music in America. As Ted Bluechel recalled in a 1984 Goldmine article by Marty Natchez, the voices were recorded at Columbia studios, while the instruments -- played by Terry Kirkman and Jules Alexander, plus a group of studio musicians -- were cut in an improvised four-track studio owned by Gary Paxton. Those two songs, and the entire album that followed, revealed a level of craftsmanship that was unknown in rock recordings up to that time. Producer Curt Boettcher showed incredible skill in putting together the stereo sound on that album, which was among the finest sounding rock records of the period. The fact that most of the members didn't play on their records was not advertised, but it was a common decision in recording in those days -- Los Angeles, in particular, was home to some of the best musicians in the country; they worked affordably and there was no reason to make less-than-perfect records. Even the Byrds, apart from Roger McGuinn, had stood on the sidelines when it was time to do the instrumental tracks on their earliest records, although this sense that the Association's music was a "production" rather than the work of an actual band probably helped contribute to their anonymity as a group.

Considering their lightweight image in the later 1960s, the Association made a controversial entry into the music market with "Along Comes Mary" -- apart from its virtues as a record, with great hooks and a catchy chorus, it was propelled to the number seven spot nationally with help from rumors that the song was about marijuana. No one is quite certain of what songwriter Tandyn Almer had in mind, and one wonders how seriously any of this was taken at the time, in view of the fact that the song became an unofficial sports anthem for Catholic schools named St. Mary's. "Cherish," a Kirkman original (which was intended for a proposed single by Mike Whelan of the New Christy Minstrels), was their next success, riding to number one on the charts. Among the most beautiful rock records ever made, the song has been a perennial favorite of romantic couples for decades since.

It was just at this point that the exhaustion that came with success and the avarice of their record label, along with a couple of artistic and commercial misjudgments, combined to interrupt the group's progress. Their next single, "Pandora's Golden Heebie Jeebies," was not an ideal choice as a follow-up to one of the prettiest and most accessible rock records of the decade, reaching only number 35, and "No Fair At All," the next single, also fared poorly. Equally important, the group was forced to rush out a second album, Renaissance (produced by Jim Yester's brother Jerry Yester), while they were honoring the burgeoning tour commitments attendant to a pair of huge national hits. It was also during this time that Valiant Records, including the Association's contract, was absorbed by Warner Bros. Records.

A major personnel problem also arose as Jules Alexander, one of the core players in the group, decided to leave. He headed off to India, where he spent most of the next year. He returned in 1967, intending to form his own group, which never got off the ground. In the meantime, the Association recruited multi-instrumentalist Larry Ramos of the New Christy Minstrels to replace Alexander. The group's lineup change coincided with their getting access to a song by Ruthann Friedman called "Windy." Another number one single, it was tougher to realize as a finished work, cut over a period of 14 hours with Friedman and Yester's wife, arranger Cliff Burroughs, and his wife, along with numerous others, all singing with them.

Insight Out, their third album, was a tough one to record as well. Initially to have been produced by Jerry Yester, it fell apart after it was half done when the group became unhappy with the sound and shape he was giving it. Instead, they turned to Bones Howe, an engineer and producer (most noted for his work with the Fifth Dimension, among many other popular acts), who finished the album with them. Insight Out was a better album than Renaissance, with pop, folk-rock, and hard rock elements that hold together reasonably well, although its audio textures lacked the delicacy of the group's debut long-player. The album's two hits, "Windy" and "Never My Love," were among their most popular and enduring records and helped drive sales of the 12" platter. The final track, "Requiem for the Masses," which featured a Gregorian chant opening, was a strange song mixing psychedelia and social commentary -- its lyrics were a searing social indictment, originally dealing with the death of boxer Davy Moore (Bob Dylan had written a song, very little known at the time, on the same subject four years earlier).

Immediately prior to the release of Insight Out, the group played the most visible live gig in their history, opening the Monterey International Pop Festival. The group didn't seem absurdly out of place, in the context of the times, on a bill with Simon & Garfunkel, the Who, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Eric Burdon and the Animals, and the Mamas & The Papas. It was an ideal showcase, and as the tapes of the festival reveal, the group was tight and hard that night, their vocals spot-on and their playing a match for any folk-rock band of the era -- Ted Bluechel's drumming, in particular, and Larry Ramos's and Jim Yester's guitars are perfect, and even Kirkland's flute came out well on stage.

Had any part of their Monterey set been released, it might've helped correct the image that the Association were rapidly acquiring of being a soft, pop/rock group. Instead, their performance took some 20 years to see the light of day and longer than that for a pair of songs to show up on CD. The group's next album, Birthday, was a departure from its three predecessors, their attempt at creating a heavier sound. It was around this same time that they cut the single "Six Man Band," a very nasty critique of the music business written by Kirkman. The measures that the group took to change its image came too late -- Birthday fell largely on deaf ears when it was issued in 1968, and the singles "Six Man Band" and "Enter the Young," the latter a re-recording of a song that highlighted their debut album, charted only moderately well.

Warner Brothers' release of a greatest hits album in 1969 boosted the group's album sales and consolidated the audience that they had, but did nothing to stop the rot that had set in. By 1969, the sensibilities of the rock audience had hardened, even as that audience splintered. Suddenly, groups that specialized in more popular, lighter fare, usually aimed at audiences outside the 17-25 age group, and especially those with a big AM radio following, such as Paul Revere & the Raiders and the Grass Roots, and the Association were considered terminally out of fashion and uncool by the new rock intelligentsia. If they got mentioned or reviewed in the pages of Rolling Stone, Crawdaddy, or Circus magazine, it was usually for a lark rather than in a fully serious context. They were usually lumped together with bubblegum acts such as the 1910 Fruitgum Company and the Ohio Express and represented the kind of music you left behind (especially if you were a guy) once you got out of ninth grade, if you had any intentions of being considered cool.

One positive development was the return of Jules Alexander to the lineup in 1969, which turned the group into a septet and gave them the services of three talented guitarists. The group's Goodbye Columbus soundtrack album, which included incidental music from the film of that name composed by Charles Fox, was the kiss of death for the group's credibility, regardless of the musical merits of their work. It was one thing for movies like Easy Rider to make use of music by the likes of the Byrds -- that was part of a new wave of filmmaking -- but as a film, Goodbye Columbus was a piece of Hollywood product. Coming out in the same year that Woodstock took place, it spoke volumes about where the Association was in relation to music and audiences.

By 1970, the group's biggest hits, dating from 1966 through 1968, were safely ensconced as oldies. The very fact that the Fifth Dimension and David Cassidy were to soon enjoy fresh chart success with re-recordings of "Never My Love" and "Cherish," respectively, didn't help their image among rock tastemakers. The Association Live might've redeemed them as a concert act, but for a major miscalculation, recalled by Terry Kirkman in the Goldmine article -- the recording, done in Salt Lake City, UT, without allowing time for the members to adjust to the city's mile-high altitude, resulted in a lot of flat and raw singing (and playing by Kirkland on his recorder and other wind instruments) and, coupled with the inevitable leakages involved in most live rock recording, yielded a very poor body of songs, some which were redone in the studio after the fact. Regardless of the tinkering, this couldn't make a good album and The Association Live wasn't.

Warner Bros. released one more album, Stop Your Motor, which reached number 158 on the charts. At around that time, relations between the label and the group's manager deteriorated, and both sides parted company in 1971. Clive Davis, the president of Columbia Records, signed the group to his label. The resulting LP, Waterbeds in Trinidad issued in 1972, peaked at number 194. The group soldiered on, availing themselves of their lingering fame for their early hits, working into the following year.

The death on August 2, 1973, of bassist Brian Cole, as a result of a worsening drug habit, portended the breakup of the original core membership of the Association. Kirkman stepped back from the music business, while Jules Alexander formed a group called Bijou that got one promising single out through A&M Records. Ted Bluechel kept the group going with Jim Yester and Larry Ramos, adding other players like Ric Ulskey. After running out their string on stage, Bluechel, the last original member, began leasing the group name out, thus allowing oldies tour packagers to send out a version of "the Association" without any of the original members to play shows. That ultimately came to haunt the group as those rights proved somewhat hard to withdraw for a time, and bogus versions of "the Association" turned up on and off into the 1980s. The legitimate, original group members, including Kirkman, Alexander, and Bluechel, resumed working together in various combinations on the oldies circuit in the 1980s. In 1981 and 1982, the group even briefly hooked up again with their first producer, Curt Boettcher, to record a pair of singles for Elektra Records. Their work since the early 1980s centered largely on re-creating their classic recordings on stage and in the studio.

The Association's history on CD, at least in America, is virtually non-existent. Warner Bros., which has seen fit to do enhanced digital remasterings of Harpers Bizarre, the Everly Brothers, and Ry Cooder, has only ever issued a poorly mastered domestic CD transfer of the Association's greatest hits album. In Japan, however, all of their Warner Bros. albums (including a much-expanded version of the greatest hits collection) have been released in state-of-the-art high-resolution digital sound, with bonus tracks included, and packaging that recreates the original art and reprints the lyrics. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide [-] Hide

In a field where the term "genius" is handed out freely, Van Dyke Parks is the real article. As a session musician, composer, arranger, lyricist, and singer, he's contributed significantly to several decades' worth of inimitable masterpieces credited to other artists, as well as generating two or three masterpieces of his own. Born in... [+] Read More

In a field where the term "genius" is handed out freely, Van Dyke Parks is the real article. As a session musician, composer, arranger, lyricist, and singer, he's contributed significantly to several decades' worth of inimitable masterpieces credited to other artists, as well as generating two or three masterpieces of his own. Born in Hattiesburg, MS, in 1941, he was a musical prodigy and attended the American Boychoir School in Princeton, NJ. He studied the clarinet and also worked as a child actor, on-stage and on television, co-starring with Ezio Pinza in the 1953 comedy series Bonino, and also working in movies, including Grace Kelly's final film, The Swan (1958).

He remained dedicated to music, however, and studied at the Carnegie Institute and majored in music at the University of Pennsylvania. In 1964, a year after graduating, he was signed to MGM Records as a recording artist, releasing "Come to the Sunshine," which had some local chart action in Phoenix, AZ, and threatened to do something nationally without succeeding. It did promise enough to require that Parks put together a band to back him on-stage, whose members included a young Stephen Stills. He became a session musician and worked with Sonny & Cher (when they were "Anthony & Cleopatra"), as well as playing sessions for producer Terry Melcher on records by Paul Revere & the Raiders and other artists. On the Byrds' Fifth Dimension album he played the Hammond B-3 organ, and he also played keyboards on sessions for Judy Collins, and arranged songs for Tim Buckley.

It was also Melcher who got Parks together in 1966 with Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys. A prodigiously gifted composer, Wilson was no lyricist, and he needed one who could match the daring new music he was devising in his head -- this resulted in their collaboration on the SMiLE album. Initially, only "Heroes and Villains" emerged from their work together as a modest hit single but a well-loved one, and the project languished over Wilson's worsening emotional and mental state in 1967. Fragments and pieces of the project turned up on ensuing albums into the early '70s, and Parks also played a key role in completing a song, "Sail On Sailor," that gave the Beach Boys a rare early-'70s single success. (In an early-'80s interview, incidentally, Parks said -- without blame or recriminations -- that he had never received a penny in royalties from his work with Wilson or the sales of the Beach Boys' records, a situation that was no doubt tied to the confusion surrounding the sale and ownership of their publishing, which was later nullified.)

In 1967, as work on SMiLE came to a halt, Parks was lured to the newly invigorated Warner Bros. label by producer/A&R chief Lenny Waronker. His new professional berth led to a single, "Donovan's Colours," credited to "George Washington Brown," and its response -- especially a pioneering piece of pop/rock criticism by journalist Richard Goldstein -- helped redefine "rock" as distinct from rock & roll. Parks and Waronker were responsible for transforming the Tikis into the pop/rock novelty act Harpers Bizarre, which became a new success for the label. Out of their work together, and all of these other projects -- and the creative stew that Waronker had set boiling at Warner Bros. and its new sister label, Reprise -- grew Parks' Song Cycle, a debut album that was the very definition of the word "eclectic," incorporating folk, classical, Broadway, ragtime, jazz, '50s pop, and rock & roll influences. It won the Record of the Year Award from High Fidelity/Stereo Review, and although it never sold in big numbers, it stayed in print for nearly two decades and was later converted to CD, where it remains in print.

He then did session work with a variety of artists, not releasing his second album, Discover America, which revealed his immersion in Trinidadian music, until 1972. Clang of the Yankee Reaper, another eclectic collection, followed in 1976. But Parks maintained his "day job" -- film work on scores by Ry Cooder and others, writing and arranging for Shelley Duvall's children's TV series, and other pursuits. Finally, in 1984 came the brilliant Jump!, a concept album (and proposed stage musical) based on the Uncle Remus tales of Joel Chandler Harris. It was followed in 1989 by Tokyo Rose, which concerned the state of American-Japanese relations. In 1998, he released a live album, and in the years since has also collaborated anew with Brian Wilson, who finally released a finished realization of SMiLE, comprised of new recordings, on the Nonesuch label in 2004 -- by that time, however, dozens of unauthorized bootleg editions of tracks from the 1967 sessions had surfaced, to the delight of fans. ~ Bruce Eder & Williiam Ruhlman, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Although this probably wasn't meant to be, this album is Emitt Rhodes' definitive statement. Soon after disbanding the Merry Go Round (of "Live" fame) Rhodes scored a solo deal with Dunhill. Rather than recording with a band or using studio musicians (which he did with his first "solo" album American Dream), the multi-instrumentalist decided to... [+] Read More

Although this probably wasn't meant to be, this album is Emitt Rhodes' definitive statement. Soon after disbanding the Merry Go Round (of "Live" fame) Rhodes scored a solo deal with Dunhill. Rather than recording with a band or using studio musicians (which he did with his first "solo" album American Dream), the multi-instrumentalist decided to build a small, primitive home studio and record the entire affair there, "At Home." The results are, in a word, staggering. Tracks such as "With My Face on the Floor," "Someone Made For Me," and the entire album as a whole showcase Rhodes' genius, and in the end, the songs are probably what most Beatles-maniacs wanted to hear from Paul McCartney's debut album. Rhodes' individuality shines through despite this; the album is a true classic of the period. ~ Matthew Greenwald, All Music Guide [-] Hide

All 11 tracks from the 1968 LP, with the addition of seven previously unreleased items and a couple cuts from non-LP singles. The production is beautiful and the songwriting melodic. When there's even a bit of a serious or melancholic edge -- as on the graceful opening track, "Another Time," or Gary Usher's strange and stunning slice of... [+] Read More

All 11 tracks from the 1968 LP, with the addition of seven previously unreleased items and a couple cuts from non-LP singles. The production is beautiful and the songwriting melodic. When there's even a bit of a serious or melancholic edge -- as on the graceful opening track, "Another Time," or Gary Usher's strange and stunning slice of psych-pop, "The Truth Is Not Real" -- it's much more memorable. Otherwise, this is kind of like the fairy-tale, sing-songy British psychedelia of the time, but with state-of-the-art L.A. '60s production. The bonus cuts are similar to the album, highlighted by the gorgeous instrumental "Sister Marie," although the non-LP single "Hotel Indiscreet" is silly fluff. The version of "My World Fell Down" that appeared on Present Tense was brutally edited, but fear not: one of the bonus cuts is the classic original single version, all of its glory (and avant-garde bridge of found noise) intact. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Beyond representing the best in '60s California pop, the Association blazed trails in album production and the folk-psychedelia genre. With the guidance of L.A. producers Bones Howe, Curt Boetticher, and Jerry Yester, the band deftly mixed airy harmonies, unobtrusive rhythm tracks, and subtle "Age of Aquarius" accents from harpsichords, Farfisa... [+] Read More

Beyond representing the best in '60s California pop, the Association blazed trails in album production and the folk-psychedelia genre. With the guidance of L.A. producers Bones Howe, Curt Boetticher, and Jerry Yester, the band deftly mixed airy harmonies, unobtrusive rhythm tracks, and subtle "Age of Aquarius" accents from harpsichords, Farfisa organs, fuzz-box guitars, trumpets, and bongos -- at times, the sophisticated blend was held together by L.A. session players. And while the group successfully expanded their harmonic horizons on "Requiem for the Masses," they also went a bit beyond their strengths with Jefferson Airplane-esque rockers like "Six Man Band." Luckily, the majority of this hits collection focuses on the band's dreamy combination of polished folk, limber vocal arrangements, and wide-screen instrumental backdrops. The summery program also includes chart-toppers like "Windy," "Cherish," "Along Comes Mary," and "Never My Love," along with progressive pop-and-harmony tracks like "No Fair at All," "Everything That Touches You," and "Time for Livin'." A great introduction to the band's prime work from the latter half of the '60s. ~ Stephen Cook, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Like Rhino's exquisite three-disc The Look of Love, this set does not concentrate on proper Burt Bacharach recordings. Instead, it contains versions of Bacharach's greatest songs, usually the greatest versions -- or cuts that are damn close to the greatest versions. And, really, that's what makes it magical, since Bacharach wasn't the best... [+] Read More

Like Rhino's exquisite three-disc The Look of Love, this set does not concentrate on proper Burt Bacharach recordings. Instead, it contains versions of Bacharach's greatest songs, usually the greatest versions -- or cuts that are damn close to the greatest versions. And, really, that's what makes it magical, since Bacharach wasn't the best interpreter of his material -- vocalists like Dionne Warwick, Sandie Shaw, Gene Pitney, Dusty Springfield, and the Shirelles were. This doesn't contain every one of his great songs or recordings, and it does run out of steam toward the end, when "That's What Friends Are For" rears its ugly head, but there are no other single-disc collections that offer such a succinct, accurate overview of Bacharach at his best, as a melodicist and songwriter. The Very Best Of starts to flow with "Baby It's You," and then runs through such indelible classics as "(There's) Always Something There to Remind Me" by Sandie Shaw, "Walk on By" by Dionne Warwick, "What the World Needs Now Is Love" by Jackie DeShannon, and "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" by B.J. Thomas, among many, many others. Yes, it's possible to point out songs that should have been here, but what's here is nearly impeccable (though the last three songs, with the possible exception of Christopher Cross' "Arthur's Theme," should have been replaced by better songs from the '60s). There is no better, succinct introduction to the glories of Burt Bacharach than this. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Scott Walker's success as a teen idol singer of Spectorish ballads with the Walker Brothers in no way prepared listeners for the mordant, despairing lyrics of his solo debut. To compound the surprise, he does his best to imitate the vocal girth of Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra on this mix of original tunes and covers, which also features... [+] Read More

Scott Walker's success as a teen idol singer of Spectorish ballads with the Walker Brothers in no way prepared listeners for the mordant, despairing lyrics of his solo debut. To compound the surprise, he does his best to imitate the vocal girth of Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra on this mix of original tunes and covers, which also features sweeping, bloated orchestral arrangements. It was hardly rock, and pop of a most oddball sort, but it found a surprisingly large audience -- in Britain, anyway, where it reached the Top Three in 1967. Poke behind the velvet curtain of the languid MOR arrangements, and one finds a surprisingly literate existentialist at the helm of these proceedings. His lyrical nuances were probably lost on his audience of predominately teenage girls, though they've earned him a small cult audience that endures to this day. Besides presenting three of his own compositions, Walker covers tunes by Weill/Mann, Tim Hardin, and Andre & Dory Previn on this album, as well as three songs by his favorite writer, Jacques Brel. Highlights include his exquisitely anguished rendition of Brel's classic "Amsterdam" and his dramatic cover of the early-'60s Toni Fisher pop ballad "The Big Hurt." ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide [-] Hide