The Fading Sounds of the Gentler Side of 1960s' Pop Rock

The supposition of many, if not most fans, critics, students or any interested party of the cultural flux of that era in American history, conveniently referred to as the "'60s", is that it was indeed, a time of upheaval and great conflict, reflected in its popular music that is often generally termed similarly, i.e. disturbing, loud, psychedelic, revolutionary and even violent. These are accurate adjectives for describing much of that period's music and probably the majority of the offerings meriting these labels exclusively, also deserved to be called, frankly, worthless. However, there was such an undeniable ferment (or fermentation) in the arts at that time, including and especially in popular music, that the tremendous force and prolificacy of the resulting creations made for, inevitably, more than a few gems, regardless of their sub-genre or the number of decibels of certain tunes.

As this blogger has a strong inclination toward the great American folk traditions of ballads and simpler songs, usually mournful, but also upbeat, melodic and novel, the tunes that I would like to primarily discuss here are the ones, not rare, that are beloved by so many, then and now, and that were, though pop tunes, hardly political or social manifestos of noise and mayhem. And yet they were smack dab in the middle (if not at the top) of many an "official" top pop tunes chart of 40-45 years ago. Sentiments expressed in a song of the "June, moon and spoon" variety, had never really gone away by the, let's say: 1965-1973 period. Young persons were the still burgeoning audiences for popular music (as the early moguls of the business of Rock'n'Roll had happily first discovered in the mid-1950's) and those "peaking" as teenagers (and consumers) by 1966 were still more than inclined to find satisfaction rather than satiety with songs about true romance and the joys and pangs of love's peaks and valleys in numbers such as "Walk Away Renee", "Pretty Ballerina", "Mr. Diengly Sad", "A Lover's Concerto", "Cherish", "The Love Theme From 'Romeo and Juliet'" and so many others. Even the spate of novelty rock'n'roll songs at the end of the '50s: "Flying Purple People Eater" and "Witch Doctor" couldn't crowd out soaringly sentimental hits like Al Hibbler's "Unchained Melody" or Earl Grant's phenomenal "The End." Songs of great longing, love, hope and despair never fail to strike those deep chords just made for plucking by the right recording artist and songwriter, whatever the era.

A few more come to mind, with personal memories, as for most of us, intertwined sweetly (or bittersweetly) with each tune. "California Dreamin'" by the Mamas and the Papas came wrapped in a beautiful package of moodiness, isolation and reflection, while their "much" later (in terms of the group's many evolvements, though theirs was a chronologically brief lifespan) "Safe In My Garden" was equally hauntingly exquisite but its not so hidden subtext spoke of a great foreboding. Even the irresistibly libidinal and exuberant Young Rascals ("Good Lovin'" and "I Ain't Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore"), later simply The Rascals, turned to these softer numbers: their "Groovin'" and "How Can I Be Sure?" being perhaps their best examples of tender sentiments and a delicacy that they (and most others) expressed with strings, organs, harmonicas and other orchestral arrangements rarely used in pop tunes up to that time. Still others, pearls that do not deserve the amnesia that time often brings, were Glen Campbell's "Wichita Lineman", Oliver's "Jean", "Traces" by the Classics IV, Jim Croce's "Time In A Bottle" and the personally haunting "Out In The Country" by Three Dog Night.

Instrumentalists made the occasional inroad into the Top Ten charts and they were all, assuredly beautiful and free from any dissonance or unpleasant bombast. Besides the aforementioned theme from the film "Romeo and Juliet", there was "Love Is Blue", Paul Mauriat's evocative offering that some deejay accurately remarked, soon after its release, would be "the sleeper" of the year (1968), "Windmills of My Mind" and "Classical Gas" (forgotten, but not by me: please remember or discover its achingly poignant "B" side of "Long Time Blues", albeit a vocal by Mason Williams, which deserves a resurrection in some form).

Well, I've hardly roamed or advanced much beyond the confines of a personal Memory Lane, but I can confidently assert that these musical creations were and continue to be special gifts from an era that curiously, in so many ways, ushered in so many objectionable phenomena in socio-political and ethical realms. But in the world of music, much wonderment and delight was born, including the more typically remembered: raucous and iconic mega-hits of that age. Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love", The Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love", "Time Has Come Today" by the Chambers Brothers and even the particularly dark offerings of The Doors ("Light My Fire" and "Touch Me") all had special power and compelling qualities that even the most squeamish devotees of gentler genres of popular music usually grudgingly conceded had made their marks. There was a reaction perhaps, to some of these "heavy" sounds at the turn of the decade. Groups like The Carpenters, The Cowsills and others made great strides commercially with softer, and in many cases (particularly through the remarkably and flawlessly lovely voice of the late Karen Carpenter) matchless recorded "jewels." Yet, some of these were almost too polished, their artists' professional skills resulting in a kind of over control of the music, however unalloyed their beauty. No, it was those scattered little beauties, from that above mentioned and circumscribed period, perhaps more than coincidental to my own teen years and callow early twenties, that captivate and cause me to cry out, yet in silence: "Listen for a voice a long time gone. 'A Long Time Gone' is a silent song."