Category: Music

Jr. Walker and the All Stars, Shotgun
Beatles, Revolver (the whole album!)
Hoyt Axton, Pistol Packin' Mama.  Al Dexter wrote the song and had a hit with it in '43.
Lloyd Price, Stagger Lee, 1959.  "Stagger Lee went home and got his .44 . . ."  Mississippi John Hurt's version.
The Leaves, Hey Joe.  "Hey Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?"
Gene Pitney, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, 1962
Johnny Western, The Ballad of Palladin.  Theme song of "Have Gun Will Travel." Duane Eddy's cheesy version.
Tom Waits, Sixteen Shells from a Thirty-Aught Six
Phil Ochs, The Men Behind the Guns
Joan Baez, Rock Salt and Nails.  "If the ladies was squirrels with high bushy tails/I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails."
No, I will not link to Sonny and Cher's "Bang, Bang"!

Stevie Ray Vaughan, Superstition
Howlin' Wolf, I Ain't Superstitious.  "Well, I ain't superstitious, but a black cat just crossed my trail."
Elvis Presley, Good Luck Charm
Leon Redbone, When You Wish Upon a Star
Blind Lemon Jefferson, Rabbit Foot Blues, 1926
Screamin' Jay Hawkins, I Put a Spell on You.  Don't miss this one!
Albert King, Born Under a Bad Sign
Eagles, Witchy Woman
Santana, Black Magic Woman
Lovin' Spoonful, Do You Believe in Magic?
Marty Robbins, Devil Woman
Mitch Ryder, Devil with the Blue Dress
Elvis Presley, Devil in Disguise

That makes 13! Time to pack it in.

I'll reckon you haven't heard one of these in a righteous spell:

Betty Everett, You're No Good, 1963.  More soulful than the 1975 Linda Ronstadt version.
The Ikettes, I'm Blue, 1962.
Lee Dorsey, Ya Ya, 1961.  Simplicity itself. Three chords. I-IV-V progression. No bridge.
Paul Anka, A Steel Guitar and a Glass of Wine, 1962.
Carole King, Crying in the Rain, 1963.  The earnest girl-feeling of young Carole makes it better than the Everly Bros.' more polished and better executed version.   
Don Gibson, Sea of a Heartbreak.  A crossover hit from 1961.  It's a crime for the oldies stations to ignore this great song.
Ketty Lester, Love Letters, 1961.  Gets some play, but not enough.

Cream, 1966, I Feel Free
Rascals, 1968, People Got to be Free
Bob Dylan and Joan Osborne, 1998, Chimes of Freedom.  It was his ability to pen moving anthems like this that made Dylan the bard of his generation.  A beautiful song and a timeless piece of Americana.  Here is the Byrds' folk-rock version from the '60s.
Beatles, Free as a Bird

Cookies, 1962, Chains

The Vogues, You're the One, 1965
Orleans, Still the One, 1976
Chiffons, One Fine Day, 1963
Doris Troy, Just One Look, 1963
Amos Milburn, One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer, 1953.  I had me a Bud, but I'm none the wiser!

Grateful Dead, So Many Roads, 1994
Joan Baez, One Too Many Mornings
Don Gibson, Many Times I've Waited

Jorma Kaukonen's Embryonic Journey from The Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow LP, 1967.

Bent Fabric, Alley Cat, 1962.

The Village Stompers, Washington Square, 1963.

Kenny Ball, Midnight in Moscow, 1962.

David Rose, The Stripper, 1962.

Acker Bilk, Stranger on the Shore, 1962.

Dick Dale and the Deltones, Misirlou, 1963. If surf music had a father, Dick Dale was the man.

The Chantays, Pipeline, 1963. A nice college boy effort, but the definitive version is the Dick Dale and Stevie Ray Vaughan cover.

Floyd Cramer, Last Date, 1960.

Michael Bloomfield, Albert's Shuffle, 1968.

Kim Carnes, Bette Davis Eyes
Bob Dylan, Blood in My Eyes
Four Seasons, Can't Take My Eyes Off of You (From Deer Hunter)
Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Judy Blue Eyes
Joan Baez, Tears in My Eyes
Joan Baez, Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands (Dylan)
Curtis Lee, Pretty Little Angel Eyes (the original!)
Jimi Hendrix, Gypsy Eyes
Marty Robbins, Blue Spanish Eyes

 Last Night, 1961, The Mar-Keys. Last Date, 1960, Floyd Cramer. Save the Last Dance for Me, 1960, The Drifters. At Last, Etta James. The Last Time, 1965, Rolling Stones. Bonus: Last Chance Harvey.

Leon Redbone and Dr. John, Frosty the Snowman
Beach Boys, Little St. Nick.  A rarely heard alternate version.
Ronettes, Sleigh Ride
Elvis Presley, Blue Christmas
Charles Brown, Please Come Home for Christmas
Wanda Jackson and the Continentals, Merry Christmas Baby
Chuck Berry, Run Rudolph Run
Eric Clapton, Cryin' Christmas Tears
Judy Collins, Silver Bells
Ry Cooder, Christmas in Southgate
Bob Dylan, Do You Hear What I Hear?

Who could possibly follow Dylan's growl except

Tom Waits, Silent Night.  Give it a chance.  

Tim Hardin, Reason to Believe (1966)
Tracy Chapman and Eric Clapton, Give Me One Reason (1996)
Bobby Darin, You're the Reason I'm Livin' (1963)
Bobby Edwards, You're the Reason I Don't Sleep at Night (1961)
Connie Stevens, Sixteen Reasons (1960).  Written by Bill and Doree Post.  Their version.
Tocotronic, Pure Vernunft Darf Niemals Siegen

The guy has amazing staying power, and at 72 he still looks and sounds damn good in live performances.  Saw him on Huckabee's show the other night.  Plays a mean blues guitar.  Said something like, "You need to marry a girl who will take you to heaven."  Good advice; men need no assistance moving in the opposite direction.  Every red-blooded American male can relate to his signature number, The Wanderer,  which rose to the number #2 slot this December 50 years ago.  The song may be superficial, but the man is not.  He managed to negotiate the snares of stardom and wander back to the faith of his childhood via a Protestant detour thanks mainly to his religious experiences:

 

I was the first rock and roll artist signed to Columbia Records and naturally, expectations ran high. No expense was spared and no excuses accepted. This was the big time. I was getting $100,000 a year guaranteed — whether I sold a record or not. “Ruby Baby” and “Donna the Primadonna” were a great down payment: they went Top 5.

Still, even with that success, I was at an all time mental and spiritual bottom. Out of depression, we moved to Miami, looking for a fresh start. There, I would have the surprise of my life: I got to see God work through my father-in-law, Jack. Jack helped fan into flames the gift of God that was in me through the laying on of hands at my confirmation. I said a prayer one night there in Jack’s home: “God I need your help.” I was delivered from the obsession to drink and drug; it was just lifted off me like a weight. On that day, April 1, 1968, I became aware of God’s power, even before

I became aware of His reality.

I entered a spiritual-based 12-step program and grew in these disciplines. Six months later, at the age of 28, I released one of the biggest records of my career — “Abraham, Martin and John.” It became an anthem.

But my biggest moment was to come. On December 14, 1979, I went out jogging, like I did every morning. It was a time when I could be alone with my thoughts — thinking about the past, thinking about the future. There was a lot going on in me then, a mid-life crisis, or something. My emotions were everywhere. In the middle of that confusion, all I could pray was “God, it would be nice to be closer to you.” That’s all it took.

I was flooded with white light. It was everywhere, inside me, outside me — everywhere. At that moment, things were different between me and God. He’d broken down the wall. Ahead of me, I saw a man with His arms outstretched. “I love you,” He said. “Don’t you know that? I’m your friend. I laid down My life for you. I’m here for you now.” I looked behind me, because I knew I’d left something behind on that road. Some part of me that I no longer wanted. Let the road have it; I didn’t need it anymore.

God changed my life that morning, and things have never been the same.

Rest of the story here.  Finally, here he is with the Belmonts in a tune from 1960 that is ignored by the oldies stations.  I heard it from the radio of a  '56 Ford when I was ten and I loved it.  My mother hated it.

 

It is hard to believe, but George Harrison died ten years ago, last Sunday. All Things Must Pass is one of his best songs, from the album of the same name, released 27 November 1970. The album got a lot of play by me and my housemates in December of that year.  41 years later, I find the song even more moving.  Whatever you say about the '60s — and 1970 was the last year of the '60s — the music of that era had a depth that was entirely lacking in the popular music of preceding decades. Or can you think of a counterexample?

What ever happened to Tim Hardin? Well, he died, in 1980, of a heroin overdose.  But he left us some memorable songs. These are my favorites.

Lady Came From Baltimore

Reason to Believe

Black Sheep Boy  If you love me, let me live in peace/Please understand/ That the black sheep can wear the golden fleece/And hold a winning hand.

If I Were a Carpenter

Red Balloon This is a Small Faces cover, but good.