In the late 1960’s, a group of London teenagers emerged from the blues-rock underground to form Free, a band that would prioritize emotional weight and groove over flashy speed. Led by the soulful, hyper-masculine vocals of an 18-year-old Paul Rodgers, Free created a sound that felt massive yet remarkably sparse. This episode deconstructs the song Mr. Big from their 1970 breakthrough album, Fire and Water, highlighting the interplay between Paul Kossoff’s legendary guitar vibrato and the melodic counter-melodies of bassist Andy Fraser.

“Mr. Big” (Andy Fraser, Paul Rodgers, Paul Kossoff, and Simon Kirke Copyright 1970 Irving Music, Inc. BMI)

TRANSCRIPT:

All right now, it’s time for another edition of the I’m in Love with that Song podcast. My name is Brad Page, I’m the host of the show, and we’re part of the Pantheon family of podcasts. Each episode of this show, I pick one of my favorite songs and we dive into it together, taking a deeper look at all of the elements—those little details and magical moments that come together to make it a great song.

We don’t get into music theory here; you don’t have to be a musician or musical expert to follow this show. We focus on the arrangements, the performances, and the production that make the song work. It’s easy to get dazzled by a pyrotechnic display of guitar virtuosity, to get swept up in some singer’s vocal gymnastics, or a drum solo that sounds like the drummer must have four arms. Even a bass player can show off now and then. But what’s just as important are the notes not played—the spaces left in the music that let the song breathe.

When it comes to hard rock bands that exemplified that approach, I can think of no one better than Free. Most people know Free only for their one big hit, “All Right Now”, and they were only together for a total of five or six years, but they had a lasting effect. Two of the members would go on to much greater success; two other members would die too soon, one of them tragically young. In this song, Free shows the effectiveness of leaving air and space in the music. And yes, even the bass player gets to show off. This is Free with “Mr. Big”.

In England in the mid-to-late ‘60s, a band called Black Cat Bones was a proving ground where a handful of musicians got their start. Just a few episodes ago, we mentioned how guitarist Rod Price graduated from that band to join Foghat. Two other players who came out of Black Cat Bones were guitarist Paul Kossoff and drummer Simon Kirk.

Kirk was born in 1949 in South London, grew up in the countryside, and returned to London when he was 17 to make it as a drummer. Kirk was never flashy; he was a rock-solid drummer. He was heavy, but always in the pocket.

Paul Kossoff was born in Hampstead in 1950, the son of a well-known actor. After seeing Eric Clapton play with the Bluesbreakers, he knew he had to play electric guitar. But Kossoff focused on the emotional weight of each note; it wasn’t about playing fast. It was about playing the right note at the right time. He developed a distinctive, wide vibrato, a technique that would eventually catch the ear of Clapton himself.

Kirk and Kossoff hit it off, and when they outgrew Black Cat Bones, they set out to form their own band. In 1968, they caught a set by a band called Brown Sugar and were immediately knocked out by their singer, Paul Rogers. Born in Middlesbrough in 1949, Paul Rogers had a voice to be reckoned with—a bluesy, soulful singer with a lot of power. At 18, he had the voice of someone twice his age—a sound that was hyper-masculine but could also be sensitive when needed.

The final piece of the puzzle was introduced to the band by Alexis Corner, one of the founding fathers of British blues. Corner recommended that Kossoff, Kirk, and Rogers check out a young prodigy named Andy Fraser, who, at 15 years old, was already playing bass for John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers. Fraser had a melodic sensibility miles beyond most bass players of the time. He excelled at playing counter-melodies, a syncopated style that fit in perfectly with Kossoff’s guitar style. It was also Alexis Corner who suggested the band call themselves Free.

The band gelled almost immediately. They wrote six new songs during their very first rehearsal. They signed to Island Records and released their first album, Tons of Sobs, in March 1969. They were all still teenagers when that album was released. The album was largely based on their live set and was recorded quickly with a budget of under 800 British pounds. The album featured their first single, “I’m a Mover”, and their cover of Albert King‘s “The Hunter”.

That same year, they released their second album, just called Free. This album focused entirely on original material, with all but one song written by the team of Paul Rogers and Andy Fraser. But it was in 1970 that their third album really broke through. Fire and Water still stands as their creative and commercial peak. It featured their big hit, “All Right Now”, along with the title cut, an absolute classic, and “Mr. Big”.

The album was recorded between January and June of 1970 at Trident Studios and Island Records’ Basing Street Studios in London. The band is credited as producers on the album, but considering it was engineered by Roy Thomas Baker, who would go on to become a legendary producer, I’m sure he had a lot to contribute to the sound of this album. All four band members receive writing credit on the song: Rogers, Kirk, Kossoff, and Fraser. The track is performed by Paul Kossoff on guitar, Simon Kirk on drums, Andy Fraser on bass, and Paul Rogers on vocals.

The song opens with Simon Kirk laying down a simple, straightforward beat. At this point, Paul Kossoff is going to come in with a simple but killer guitar riff that leaves plenty of space, plenty of air for the music to breathe. Notice how the guitar is double-tracked here. Andy Fraser comes in with his bass—such a great bass part. Listen to how his part fills in the spaces left open by the guitar. They are playing in between each other; it’s almost like a coordinated dance between the two instruments. Neither riff is excessively complex, but they combine to make a really interesting part.

And here is where Paul Rogers comes in with the vocal. The vocals are mixed pretty low. The chorus is up next, and if you listen closely, you can hear a bit of piano added to fill out the chorus, probably played by Paul Rogers. Still, musically, this is a pretty stripped-down track.

For the second verse, let’s bring up Paul Rogers’ vocal track. He would become more famous later on, but my favorite of his vocals are all on Free albums. I’ve always thought he was very influenced by Steve Marriott, from Small Faces and Humble Pie, and I think that shows up the most on his work with Free earlier on in his career. Of course, I’m a huge Steve Marriott fan, so I guess it’s not a surprise that I would gravitate to that sound.

Before we move on, let’s go back and listen to the instrumental track for the chorus without the vocals, just to see what the band is doing.

Here, the song shifts into the guitar solo. Paul Kossoff’s solo is overdubbed in the right channel with just the right amount of reverb to sweeten it up. This is pretty classic Kossoff soloing here. He’s not playing flashy; he’s focusing on melody and using feedback and sustain to slowly build the solo up. And that famous Kossoff vibrato is totally on display. Let’s bring up the guitars for this section.

Here’s the point where Paul Kossoff settles back into some chordal figures and arpeggios, while Andy Fraser steps forward and we get to hear some killer bass playing. There’s a very distinctive sound to Andy’s bass, and a big part of that is due to the type of bass that he’s playing. For most of his time in Free, Andy played a Gibson EB-3 bass. The EB-3 is a short-scale bass with a big, fat pickup in the neck position, affectionately known as the “mudbucker” pickup. These unique characteristics led to its distinctive tone. For more discussion on the bass guitar, listen back to episode 200 of this podcast, which was dedicated to the history of the electric bass, and we touch on the EB-3 in that conversation. Or, you can just continue to listen here as Andy Fraser gives us a masterclass on the EB-3.

Along with Andy’s bass, there are three guitar parts panned left, right, and center, and I’m pretty sure I hear a piano in there, too, just popping out occasionally. Let’s push Andy’s bass up in the mix. Let’s bring the band back up.

Kossoff’s going to overdub some additional guitar licks. And now they’re going to break into one final chorus.

“Mr. Big” by Free. This album was a hit, and Free headlined the 1970 Isle of Wight Festival, playing to almost 700,000 attendees. Seemed like they were on their way to being superstars. But their follow-up album, Highway, was a mellower affair and it didn’t sell as well, adding to the friction within the band. The musical partnership of Fraser and Rogers was beginning to fray, and Kossoff had a drug problem that was spiraling out of control.

The band split and issued a live album called Free Live! in 1971 as kind of a farewell to the fans. That album features a killer version of “Mr. Big”; many people consider that to be the definitive version, though I wanted to focus on the studio version here. And I still think I prefer the studio version just for the recording quality. But you can’t go wrong with either version, really.

After that live album, some solo projects were pursued in 1971, but none of them made much of an impact. They decided to get the band back together in 1972, as much to try to save Kossoff from his addictions as anything else, and they released an album called Free at Last. There are a few stellar moments on that record, but it doesn’t quite reach the heights of Fire and Water.

Unfortunately, Kossoff wasn’t able to hold it together. The tour was a mess, and Andy Fraser left again, this time for good. The band brought in bassist Tetsu Yamauchi and keyboardist Rabbit Bundrick as replacements and soldiered on with one more album, Heartbreaker, released in 1973. That album features “Wishing Well”, one of the band’s best tracks ever, and that was a hit. But it was too little, too late. The band called it quits for good.

Paul Rogers and Simon Kirk founded Bad Company and went on to much greater success—bigger hits, sold more records. But for my money, Rogers never sang better than he did with Free. Paul Kossoff spiraled deeper. He released a solo album, Back Street Crawler, which I like quite a bit, and then he started a band with that same name, Back Street Crawler, that released two albums. And he was still in demand as a session guitarist, playing on a number of projects. But the drugs had taken over. He was unreliable and his health was in bad shape. On March 19, 1976, on a flight from Los Angeles to New York, he died on the plane from a pulmonary embolism. He was only 25 years old. I maintain that he could have been one of the greatest guitarists of his generation if he had lived, but it just wasn’t to be.

After leaving Free, Andy Fraser tried to get a few bands off the ground and released some albums, but nothing caught on. He moved to Los Angeles and focused on songwriting. His biggest success as a songwriter was writing “Every Kinda People”; that was a hit for Robert Palmer in 1978. Fraser came out as gay, one of the few rock stars of his generation to do so at that time, and it was revealed that he had HIV. He died from a heart attack in March of 2015. Fraser thought of himself as an all-around musician rather than a bass player, but his distinctive voice as a bassist left a mark on the instrument and has continued to influence players right up until today.

Thanks for joining me here on the Pantheon Podcast Network for this edition of the I’m in Love with that Song podcast. New episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll meet you back here in about 15 days. And if you can’t wait that long, you can find over 200 of our previous episodes on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com.

This show has no corporate sponsor, no one’s funding this show, there’s no production team, no editor, no producer. It’s just me, doing my thing on my own. It’s a truly independent show. So, if you’d like to support this podcast, you can always go to oldglory.com and buy a t-shirt and use our discount code, “lovethatsong”, to save a few bucks. But more importantly, the best thing you can do is to tell people about the show. Share it with your friends, your family, and fellow music lovers. Anything you can do to spread the word about the show and help us gain new listeners, I really appreciate that. Follow us on Facebook, send an email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com, and post a review wherever you listen to this show. Until we meet again, go seek out some old Free records and crank ‘em up.

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Have you ever noticed a song that seems to follow you through your record collection, appearing in different forms across decades and genres? This episode explores the fascinating journey of “It Ain’t Easy“, a song that found a home in the repertoire of David BowieThree Dog Night, Long John BaldryMitch Ryder, Shelby Lynne and more. We trace the song back to its source: Ron Davies, a prolific but often-overlooked songwriter who came out of the Pacific Northwest garage rock scene. Despite never reaching the top of the Billboard charts himself, Davies created a song with musical bones so strong that it transitioned seamlessly from the glam-rock harpsichord of Bowie’s sessions to the stripped-back folk of Chris Smither.

We take a look at the specific production touches of the most significant versions, including the “all-star” original recording featuring Leon Russell and Jim Keltner. We discuss the tragic “lost” sessions of Bettye LaVette at Muscle Shoals Sound Studios, the Rolling Stones-style swagger of Claudia Lennear’s version (featuring Ry Cooder), and even modern interpretations by The Raconteurs and Alexis P. Suter. Whether filtered through blues, country, glam, or soul, “It Ain’t Easy” remains a masterclass in songwriting consistency. Join us as we explore the lifespan of a track that proved a great song doesn’t need to be a commercial smash to become a timeless classic.

“It Ain’t Easy” Ron Davies Copyright 1970 Irving Music Inc. (BMI)

TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome back, friends, to the I’m In Love With That Song podcast. We’re surfing the intertubes to come to you, courtesy of the Pantheon Network of podcasts. I’m Brad Page, the host of this shindig, and each edition of this show, I pick a favorite song and we explore it together. This is a show for any music fan; we don’t get too technical or get into music theory or anything like that, so you don’t have to be any kind of expert. This show only requires two things: a love for music and a healthy dose of curiosity.

So, this episode is going to be a little different than usual, but I hope you find it interesting. To paraphrase—or mangle—an old saying: when something happens twice, it could be a coincidence; when something happens three or more times, well, that’s a mystery waiting to be solved. And that is where the curiosity comes in, because I get curious about certain things, like this: Many years ago—I’m talking like 40-something years ago—when I got my first copy of David Bowie‘s Ziggy Stardust album, it caught my eye that Bowie wrote every song on the album– except one. The last song on side one is a song called “It Ain’t Easy“.

[Music: David Bowie – “It Ain’t Easy”]

I looked at the credits for this song and saw that it was written by someone named Ron Davies. At first, I thought maybe that’s Ray Davies—you know, from The Kinks—but nope, not Ray; it’s Ron, a completely different guy, not related at all. But I always liked that song, so it stuck with me.

A few years later, I picked up an album by a band called Detroit featuring Mitch Ryder of “Devil with the Blue Dress” fame. And this is just a great rock and roll record; I really love this album. And one of the tracks on this album is “It Ain’t Easy“. It’s Detroit‘s version of the same song. This album was actually released in 1971, a year before David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.

Skip ahead a few years: I was turned on to an R&B singer named Bettye LaVette, who’s become maybe my favorite female vocalist of all time. And so I started collecting her albums. I picked up a re-issue of her very first album, Child of the Seventies, and the first song on that album is “It Ain’t Easy“. This song, by a songwriter I’ve never heard of, keeps turning up.

And then, just a couple of years ago, I finally picked up an album that I’d been looking for for quite a while, an album by legendary background singer Claudia Lennear called Phew!. I put the album on and, sure enough, there’s that song again, “It Ain’t Easy“. So that was kind of like the last straw. I had to find out more about this song, which was written by a fairly obscure artist, had never been a hit for anybody, yet so many artists kept covering it. What is the story of this song? On this episode, we’re going to find out.

Ron Davies was born Ronnie Wayne Dickerson on January 15, 1946, in Shreveport, Louisiana. His father was Tex Dickerson, a country singer. His sister, Gale, would become a well-known singer-songwriter herself and the first female record producer in country music. Both Gale and Ronnie took their stepfather’s last name when their mother remarried, hence Davies. They also moved from the South up to Tacoma, Washington. That’s where his stepfather gave him his first guitar.

In the 1960s, the Pacific Northwest was a hotbed of the sound that would eventually be called garage rock. That’s the sound of Nuggets-era bands like The Sonics, The Kingsmen, and Paul Revere & the Raiders. And one of the biggest bands on that scene were The Wailers—not to be confused with Bob Marley and the Wailers, completely separate band. The Wailers had a hit with a song called “Tall Cool One” in 1959.

In 1966, The Wailers released an album called Outburst. Every song on that album was written by Ron Davies. He was only 17 at the time. That established Ron as a songwriter, but he also played and recorded as a solo artist. In 1968, he signed to A&M Records as a singer-songwriter and released his debut solo album in 1970. That album was called Silent Song Throughout the Land. The album was produced by Chad Stewart of Chad & Jeremy fame, and the single released from that album was “It Ain’t Easy“.

The song features kind of an all-star lineup, including the great Leon Russell on piano, Jim Keltner on drums, and backing vocals by Clydie KingVenetta Fields, and Merry Clayton, who we’ve talked about on this show before.

[Music: Ron Davies – “It Ain’t Easy”]

The song never hit the Billboard chart, though it did chart in Canada, reaching number 55 on their RPM chart. Ron Davies would release a second solo album, UFO, in 1974, which included some of the same songs that were on that first album, including “It Ain’t Easy“. He moved to Nashville in 1985 and continued working as a songwriter. Ron Davies died from a heart attack in October of 2003.

The next time “It Ain’t Easy” appeared was courtesy of Three Dog Night. It was actually the title cut from their third album, released in March 1970. Three Dog Night didn’t write their own material, but they were pretty good at finding and adapting other people’s songs and had churned out quite a few hits. The It Ain’t Easy album included their hit version of “Mama Told Me Not to Come“, along with their take on Elton John’s “Your Song” and a cover of “Woman“, a song by Free, who are about to be featured on an upcoming episode here. Three Dog Night’s version of “It Ain’t Easy” is less swampy, doesn’t have that gospel choir feel on the chorus, and the song is a little more AM radio friendly, which fits Three Dog Night’s style. But the song still retains quite a bit of the original’s feel.

[Music: Three Dog Night – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Though Three Dog Night’s It Ain’t Easy album was a big hit, they never released the song as a single, at least not as an A-side. So the song still hadn’t really hit the charts.

It Ain’t Easy” resurfaced again in 1971 with a version by Long John Baldry. Baldry was a fixture of British blues in the 1960s. He was a founding member of that scene. He had gigged along with The Rolling Stones, and both Rod Stewart and Elton John had been members of his band. He helped to give them their start.

When he released his fifth album in 1971, both Rod and Elton returned the favor by each of them producing half of the record. The album was titled, of course, It Ain’t Easy. The song “It Ain’t Easy” appears on side one—that was the side produced by Rod Stewart. Baldry’s version is bluesier, it’s a little slower, heavy with that blues-rock swagger. Baldry’s vocal is intense, digging into the despair of the lyrics. And he’s supported on the chorus by the backing vocals of Maggie Bell, one of the great blues-rock vocalists of her time. She’s been forgotten, unfortunately, but I would put her right up there with Janis Joplin; she’s that good. Check out her vocals. Also featured on this track is Ron Wood on slide guitar.

[Music: Long John Baldry – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Also in 1971, there was an album released that I personally really love. Mitch Ryder made his name fronting The Detroit Wheels in the 1960s and had a number of hits, including “Devil with the Blue Dress“, “Jenny Take a Ride“, and “Sock It to Me, Baby!“. In the early 1970s, he formed a new band just called Detroit. They took Ryder’s already ramped-up R&B flavored rock and added a heavier edge. Detroit featured guitarist Steve Hunter, who would go on to work for Lou Reed and Alice Cooper—great guitar player. Detroit only issued one self-titled album; it came out in 1971, and it included this version of “It Ain’t Easy“. Check out the little riffs added by Steve Hunter, along with the pretty busy bass part played by W.R. Cooke.

[Music: Detroit – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Dave Edmunds has had a multifaceted career, to say the least. A terrific guitarist and a great singer, he first made his mark in the British psychedelic-tinged rock band Love Sculpture in 1968 and then went solo. He had a big hit with “I Hear You Knocking” in 1970. He went on to form Rockpile, became an in-demand record producer, and collaborated with many artists, including Paul McCartney. But back in 1972, he released his first solo album. It was called Rockpile, and it featured his take on “It Ain’t Easy“. His version is less bluesy than Baldry’s and avoids the studio sheen of Three Dog Night; it’s not as riffy as Detroit’s version, and he injects some of his rockabilly sensibility into it. But the bones of the song remain the same. Let’s hear a little of Dave Edmunds doing “It Ain’t Easy“.

[Music: Dave Edmunds – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Next, we get to the big one. If you’re familiar with this song at all, it’s probably this version. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars is not only one of David Bowie‘s biggest records, it’s one of the most iconic albums of the 1970s, probably of all time. When you talk all-time classic albums, this one has got to be on the list.

Ziggy Stardust is a concept album, a very particular, specific vision of David Bowie’s. So why on this album of songs about a space-alien rock star is there a version of “It Ain’t Easy“? Well, the track was originally recorded for Bowie’s previous album, Hunky Dory, released the year before in 1971. It was left off of that album, but for some reason, they decided to include it on the Ziggy Stardust record. Rick Wakeman played many of the keyboard parts on the Hunky Dory album and, because this track was recorded during those sessions, he appears on this song playing harpsichord. It’s the only song on the Ziggy Stardust album that Wakeman appears on. Rick Wakeman was, of course, a member of Yes and would become a legendary keyboard and synthesizer player. Also appearing on this song is Dana Gillespie, providing background vocals on the chorus. Neither Wakeman nor Gillespie were credited on the original release of the album.

Not surprisingly, Bowie’s version drifts the furthest away from the bluesy, swampy vibe of the original. The harpsichord, in particular, takes it to a different place. You don’t find the harpsichord on too many blues numbers.

[Music: David Bowie – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Bettye LaVette is hands-down one of my favorite singers. We featured her on an episode a while back, so if you want to dig into her history further, go listen to episode 139 on Bettye LaVette and “I Still Want to Be Your Baby“. But to sum up things briefly here, Bettye released her first single way back in 1962 and had some success on the R&B charts in the ’60s. In 1972, she went to the legendary Muscle Shoals Sound Studios to record her first album. That album was called Child of the Seventies, and I think it’s a great record. But for some inexplicable reason, the record company never released it. God knows why, but it was put on a shelf until it was rediscovered in 1999 and finally issued. And people rediscovered Bettye LaVette. That album features Bettye’s version of “It Ain’t Easy“, recorded in 1972, the same year that Ziggy Stardust was released, though Bettye’s version wouldn’t be officially released until 27 years later.

[Music: Bettye LaVette – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Claudia Lennear was one of the premier backup singers in the business. She started her career as an Ikette with Ike and Tina Turner, and her list of credits is a mile long. She’s sung on albums by Stephen Stills, Joe Cocker, Dave Mason, Humble Pie, Ry Cooder, Taj Mahal, Freddy King… the list goes on. But she only released one solo album back in 1973; that album was called Phew! (P-H-E-W) and it opens with “It Ain’t Easy“. Claudia’s version injects the song with a whole lot of Rolling Stones-style swagger and a touch of gospel. It also features some excellent guitar work by the great Ry Cooder.

[Music: Claudia Lennear – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Things went quiet for a few years after that until Graham Bonnet recorded a version of “It Ain’t Easy” for his 1977 solo album. Bonnet established himself as one of the leading hard rock and metal singers with his work with Rainbow and Alcatrazz, but here’s his take on “It Ain’t Easy“.

[Music: Graham Bonnet – “It Ain’t Easy”]

One of the more oddball versions was recorded by Dennis Waterman, who was mostly known as a TV actor in the UK, though he also had a career as a singer—a British version of David Hasselhoff, I guess. He released a version in 1977, but I don’t own that record to be able to play it for you.

Chris Smither is a blues and folk artist who started his career in the folk scene around Cambridge, Massachusetts. In 1984, he stripped the song down to its pure basics and released his version of “It Ain’t Easy“.

[Music: Chris Smither – “It Ain’t Easy”]

In 1996, there was a Bowie tribute album released called Crash Course for the Ravers. The alternative band Hazel had the honors of contributing their version of “It Ain’t Easy“. I wouldn’t typically include this song here because it’s more of a tribute to Bowie than it is a cover of the original song, but just to be complete, here is Hazel’s version of “It Ain’t Easy“.

[Music: Hazel – “It Ain’t Easy”]

In more recent years, the song’s been covered by The Raconteurs

[Music: The Raconteurs – “It Ain’t Easy”]

…and Shelby Lynne did a nice version of it.

[Music: Shelby Lynne – “It Ain’t Easy”]

Fish covered it when they performed the entire Ziggy Stardust album in 2016. And just last year, in 2025, Alexis P. Suter recorded a version for her album Just Stay High.

[Music: Alexis P. Suter – “It Ain’t Easy”]

So that brings us up to date. I wouldn’t be surprised if I missed some other versions of this song, but as far as I can find, these are the significant versions of this track. We’ve heard this same song filtered through blues, to country, to glam, to soul, to rock and back again. The bones of this song remain remarkably consistent, I think, and yet it can slide so easily into the repertoire of so many diverse artists. Not one of these versions was ever a hit; it was never a commercial success. And yet, the song has lived a pretty interesting life. And who knows where it’ll turn up next?

Well, I hope you enjoyed this history ride through the lifespan of this one song. I have to say, this episode is kind of the perfect example of why I do this podcast; every episode begins with me asking myself a question, and then trying to find the answer, just for my own satisfaction. I never go into an episode knowing all the answers. The fun part for me is learning all of this stuff and then sharing it with you. And I hope you find all of this as interesting as I do.

Thanks for joining me here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, where fans belong. New episodes of this podcast come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so you can bet your sweet bippy that the I’m In Love With That Song podcast will be back soon. Until then, visit our website at lovethatsongpodcast.com to find all of our previous episodes. Whether you’re catching up on shows you missed or want to rediscover some of your favorites, our website is the best place to do it.

You can support the show by going to oldglory.com and buying a t-shirt or some band merch from your favorite artists. They have a ton of stuff on their site, and if you use our discount code, LOVETHATSONG, you’ll save 15% and you’ll be supporting the show. That’s discount code LOVETHATSONG; the website is oldglory.com.

I would also ask that you share the show with your friends and family. The word-of-mouth support from savvy listeners like you is the best way to spread the word and grow this show, so I really appreciate it. Thank you.

So, I’m going to pack it in for the night. Thanks again for sticking with me on this one. So many great versions of this song, but if I had to pick just one, well, I got a real soft spot for that version by Detroit featuring Mitch Ryder. So let’s close it out with Detroit’s version of “It Ain’t Easy“. I’ll see you next time.

[Outro Music: Detroit – “It Ain’t Easy”]

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In this episode, we’ll explore the story and sonic architecture behind Foghat’s 1975 arena rock anthem, “Fool for the City“. Tracing the band’s roots back to British blues rockers Savoy Brown, we dive into how Foghat solidified their heavy boogie sound and retreated to a remote studio in Vermont to record their breakthrough platinum album. And we’ll take a tour through the song’s isolated instrumental tracks, uncovering the characteristically dry 1970’s drum mix, producer Nick Jameson’s funky bass contributions, the one-of-a-kind voice of Lonesome Dave Peverett, and Rod Price’s classic guitar work.

Words & Music by Lonesome Dave Peverett Copyright 1975 Kohaw Music o/b/o Knee Trembler Music (ASCAP) c/o The Bicycle Music Company

TRANSCRIPT:

Hello once again, and welcome back to the “I’m in Love With That Song” podcast, beamed directly into your earholes courtesy of the Pantheon Podcast Network. As always, I’m your host, Brad Page, and each edition of this podcast, I pick a song from my library of favorites, and we explore it together, trying to get a better understanding of what makes a song work. Why do I love this song? We limit the technical jargon here and keep the music theory to a minimum. This is a show for anyone who loves music. You don’t have to be a musical expert to enjoy this show.

On this episode, we’ll continue our exploration of bands that have been featured on this podcast once before, as we revisit Foghat, one of the bands that defined the sound of 1970s arena rock. This time, we’re going straight to their most popular studio album and digging into the title cut. That’s right– this is Foghat with “Fool for the City.

Back on episode 78, we explored Foghat’s take on “Honey Hush. I did a quick overview of their career on that show, but it’s been a while, so let’s go over those details again.

By the mid to late 1960s, it seemed like London was overrun by young British musicians obsessed with American blues; Muddy Waters, Big Bill Broonzy, Howlin’ Wolf… these British kids couldn’t get enough of this music, whether it was Delta Blues or Chicago Blues or anything in between. Sure, there was an element of fetishization about it, but these kids genuinely loved this music, and they appreciated it a lot more than American white kids did at this time.

One of the premier British blues bands was Savoy Brown, led by guitarist Kim Simmons. Savoy Brown seemed to churn through members, but for a time, the band settled around six members. Along with Simmons were Chris Youlden on vocals, Bob Hall on piano, Tony Stevens on bass, Roger Earl on drums, and Lonesome Dave Peverett on rhythm guitar and occasional vocals.

This lineup of Savoy Brown released a handful of albums: Blue Matter and A Step Further both came out in 1969, and then Raw Sienna in 1970. At that point, Chris Youlden and Bob Hall had left the band, and Lonesome Dave took over the lead vocals for their next album Looking In.

After that album, Lonesome Dave Peverett, Roger Earl, and Tony Stevens all left the band to start their own group. Simmons was pushing the band in a jazzier direction, while the rest of the guys wanted to pursue a heavier boogie sound. “Boogie” was a straightforward, visceral sound, with the swing of the blues melded with the aggression of rock. Things came to a head in December 1970, when Simmons fired Stevens and put additional demands on Peverett and Earl. They decided to quit, and the three of them got together to start their own group.

What they needed now was a new lead guitarist, and they found just the guy in Rod Price. Price had been playing with Black Cat Bones, and his brilliant slide guitar playing earned him the nickname the bottle. His addition to the band transformed their sound. His searing slide guitar leads delivered the sound that gave the band its heavy edge.
So, the band had their lead guitarist and their sound nailed down. Now all they needed was a name. It was Peverett who provided Foghat.

The name Foghat was a meaningless word that Peverett made up during a game of Scrabble he played with his brother when they were kids. I guess the word stuck around, but it literally doesn’t mean anything.

The band met with quite a few record labels but found no takers until they met with Albert Grossman, who signed them to his Bearsville record label. Soon, they would relocate to New York.

They released their first album, self-titled, in 1972. It was produced by Dave Edmunds and featured their version of Muddy Waters’ “I Just Want to Make Love to You”, which became a staple of their live shows. It set the template for the Foghat sound. Take a classic blues tune, ramp it up, crank up the guitars, and belt out the vocals in Lonesome Dave’s distinctive style.

Three more albums followed, and though a big hit eluded them, the band built an audience, focusing on the US, growing a fan base through relentless touring. But that pace was grueling, and it took its toll. By 1975, Tony Stevens had enough and left the band. Now they were missing a bass player just as they were about to record their most ambitious album to date.

Nick Jameson had produced their previous album, Rock and Roll Outlaws, and he was lined up to produce this new record. Rather than audition a bunch of new bass players, the band turned to Nick Jameson and asked him to play bass on the album.  Nick was a guitarist and a keyboard player, but not an experienced bass player, but he took on the job and became their de facto bassist for this new album.

The band decided to decamp to a small studio in Vermont called Suntreader. Located in Sharon, Vermont, it was about as removed from the city as you could get. This allowed the band to focus on the music, but you gotta wonder how that influenced this title cut.

Fool for the City was written by Dave Peverett. It’s performed by Peverett on lead vocals and rhythm guitar, Rod Price on lead and slide guitar, Roger Earl on drums, and Nick Jameson on bass. It was produced by Jameson.

The song begins with a quick flam, probably on a floor tom, and then we’re into the opening riff.

The first thing I notice on this track is that the drums are pretty dry. I’m not really hearing any reverb. That’s pretty standard for a 1970s recording. It wasn’t until the 1980s that they started putting tons of reverb on the drums to the point where the drum sounds got kind of ridiculous, at least in my opinion. But this dry drum sound is pretty typical of the 1970s. Let’s bring up the drums and listen to that for a bit.

Now let’s go back and play the intro through to the first verse.

That first verse pretty much lays out the thesis for this song. Not a lot of subtext here. The country sure is pretty, but I’ll leave it all behind. Let’s bring up that vocal track by Lonesome Dave Peverett.

There’s the chorus, classic gang vocals on the chorus there, and definitely plenty of reverb on the vocals. Let’s bring that up in the mix.

Now, before they start the second verse, there’s a short bit with some harmonized guitar parts. Let’s bring that forward a bit.

I like that because it serves as a transition from the chorus to the verse, and it gives you something new to keep things fresh.

Let’s go back and hear just the instrumental track for the verse to hear what’s going on underneath the vocals.

And back to the chorus.

And that brings us to the bridge. There are two distinct parts to the bridge. Let’s tackle the first part.

First, we’ll hear the instrumental track without the vocals. Like most of the song, there are at least two guitars panned left and right, but in this section, there’s another guitar in there right in the middle. It sounds like there’s some phasing or flanging on that guitar as well.

Okay, let’s hear that with the vocals now.

The vocals are doubled there. Another thing that I’m noticing is that the vocals are mixed pretty low throughout this song. Sometimes the guitars almost drown them out. Dave Peverett has a great voice, but Foghat was definitely a guitar band.

Let’s move on to the second part of the bridge, and things get funky here. It was Nick Jameson who came up with this idea, and it really adds a whole new element to the song.

All right, let’s dissect this part. First, let’s just hear Dave’s vocal. It’s pretty much a spoken word part.

And now the instrumental parts. Some interesting things happening here. There’s an acoustic guitar playing that country blues riff. It’s the first time we’ve heard an acoustic guitar in this song. And Nick Jameson is playing some slap bass that’s kind of a counterpart to that acoustic guitar. I like the way those two play off of each other. And then there are some electric guitars that come up in the left and right channel, both with an envelope filter or auto-wah effect on them. It’s a very specific kind of sound. All these parts work together in a pretty interesting way. Let’s hear all of that.

And that leads right into a guitar solo, giving Rod Price a moment to shine. Rod was mostly known for his slide playing, but he’s not using any slide here.

Now, listen to how Rod Price incorporates some of the vocal melody into his solo here. And they’ve also added some backing vocals, but they’re doing something different than what they do during the other choruses. It’s all kind of clever.

And that leads right into a reprise of the bridge.

This time around, Lonesome Dave uses more of his singing voice than the spoken word. Let’s hear that in the final mix and listen to Jameson’s funky bass part here.

That time around, there’s no acoustic guitar part there, which leaves room for Jameson’s bass to really jump out of the mix. And notice how the band builds up out of that section into these final choruses. It’s a really nice way to create some excitement leading into the finale.

As Dave Peverett ad-libs his vocals over the top, Nick Jameson’s bass and Roger Earl’s drums get a little more frantic, busier, driving the song to its conclusion.

And now Rod Price has overdubbed some more guitar licks, adding even more energy to the track.

Foghat Fool for the City

Besides the title cut, the album also includes “Slow Ride, their biggest hit. The album would become their first platinum album. And in 1977, they released their live album, Foghat Live, which would become their biggest-selling album.

But by 1979, trends changed and new sounds were capturing the attention of the general public, and Foghat fell out of fashion. They continued to release albums into the 1980s with diminishing returns.

Rod Price left the band in 1980, and they continued on for a while with a guitarist named Erik Cartwright, but they eventually split around 1984. There were a number of reunions with various lineups, but I don’t think anything captured the highlights of their 1970s peak.

Lonesome Dave Peverett, one of the most distinctive singers of his era, died in February 2000 from kidney cancer. He was 56. Rod Price was living in Wilton, New Hampshire, not far from where I lived, when he suffered a heart attack and fell down a flight of stairs. He was 57.

But at the time of this recording, Nick Jameson and Roger Earl are still with us, and Earl still tours with a version of Foghat.

Thanks for joining me for this edition of the “I’m in Love With That Song” podcast. I will be back in two weeks with another new episode. If for some unexplainable reason you just can’t bear to wait two weeks, you can relisten to all of our previous shows on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com.

You can support the show by going to oldglory.com and buying some merch from your favorite artists. They even have a Fool for the City T-shirt that you can buy. And if you use our discount code, lovethatsong, you’ll save 15% and you’ll be helping to support this show. That’s oldglory.com with the discount code, lovethatsong.

Thank you for being part of this show here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, where fans belong. Now let’s turn up the volume and crank up “Fool for the City” by Foghat.

RESOURCES & LINKS:

  • Foghat: Visit their Official Website for current tour dates, official merchandise, and their latest music releases.
  • Savoy Brown: The Official Savoy Brown Website features news and details on founder Kim Simmonds’ autobiography, which chronicles his six-decade journey in blues-rock.
  • Muddy Waters: The Muddy Waters Foundation is dedicated to preserving the history of the blues and supporting emerging blues musicians.
  • Howlin’ Wolf: The Howlin’ Wolf Memorial Site offers detailed biographical insights, rare photographs, and stories covering his incredible life and legacy.
  • Lonesome Dave Peverett: His Concord Music Publishing profile highlights his massive impact as the founding member of Foghat and the writer behind defining hits like “Slow Ride” and “Fool For The City”.
  • Nick Jameson: His Discogs Profile outlines his eclectic and prolific career as a producer, engineer, voice actor, and multi-instrumentalist.
  • Rod Price obituary: https://www.the-independent.com/news/obituaries/rod-price-530402.html

Record Labels & Studios:

  • Bearsville Records: You can explore the ongoing legacy of Albert Grossman’s iconic label and its artists at the Bearsville Center. For a complete visual history of their original album art, catalog numbers, and tracklists, the Bearsville Discogs page is an invaluable database.
  • Suntreader Studios: The Suntreader Studios Discogs page catalogs the various releases cut at this remote Sharon, Vermont location, including Foghat’s platinum milestone.

Merchandise Sponsor: oldglory.com (Use code Lovethatsong for 15% off)

Podcast Network: Pantheon Podcast Network

By 1971, The Band was one of the most influential forces in rock music, having steered the genre away from psychedelic excess toward a more rustic, roots-based sound. However, the recording of their fourth album, Cahoots, was a period of high tension within the group.  Despite these fractures, the album’s opening track, “Life is a Carnival,” stands out as a masterpiece of groove and atmosphere, drawing on Robertson’s real-life experiences working in a traveling circus to paint a vivid picture of life as a relentless “hustle.”

Let’s dive inside the track to examine the individual elements that make it work: the interplay between Levon Helm’s “behind the beat” drumming, Rick Danko’s fretless bass, Robbie Robertson’s funky guitar work, and the “calliope” atmosphere created by Garth Hudson’s Lowrey organ. And a major highlight is Allen Toussaint’s contribution; the New Orleans legend’s horn arrangements were written specifically to weave around Robertson’s existing guitar solo, resulting in a rhythmic conversation that remains irresistible decades later. This episode is a tribute not just to a great song, but to the enduring legacy of five musicians who changed the landscape of American music.

“Life Is A Carnival” Words & Music by Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm & Rick Danko copyright 1971 WC Music Corp and Canaan Music, Inc. All rights administered by WC Music Corp

TRANSCRIPT:

Take a load off, because it’s time for another episode of the I’m in Love with That Song podcast. I’m your host, Brad Page, coming to you courtesy of the Pantheon Podcast Network, where fans belong. Each episode of this show, I pick one of my favorite songs and we take a look at it together as we try to get a better understanding of what makes a song work. We’ll dig into all those little elements, those small decisions and choices that add up to making a great song. No musical knowledge or experience is required here; we don’t get too technical. This podcast is for anyone who loves music and is curious about what makes a song great.

This time around, we’re revisiting one of the most important bands that came out of the late 1960s, and they had a huge impact on the direction of rock music. We’re talking about The Band. We’ve covered The Band once before—that was way back on Episode 17, with a song from their second album. This time, we’ll explore a song from their fourth album, released in 1971. This is a great song called “Life is a Carnival.”

(Music: “Life is a Carnival” by The Band)

In the late 1950s, a singer named Ronnie Hawkins had a backing band called The Hawks. The Hawks included four Canadians: guitarist Robbie Robertson, bassist Rick Danko, Richard Manuel and Garth Hudson both on keyboards, and one American: a drummer named Levon Helm. Hawkins built up quite a following in the Ontario area, but eventually, The Hawks outgrew working with Ronnie and split off on their own. In 1965, Bob Dylan hired them to be his band for his 1965-66 tours, and suddenly, The Hawks were thrust into the big time. They became known as simply The Band, and after working with Dylan on what became known as The Basement Tapes, they got their own record deal and released their first album, Music from Big Pink.

(Music: “The Weight” by The Band)

To say that that album was influential would be a huge understatement. It changed the landscape, the whole direction of rock music. Suddenly, the trippy excesses of psychedelic rock were out, and the rustic, return-to-roots sound that The Band exemplified became the hot new thing. But by the turn of the 1970s, the pressure of their own myth was clearly having an effect. When they recorded their first album in 1968, they were as tight as a band could get, practically telepathic in their musical communication—it was a shared communal experience. But when they headed into the studio to make their fourth album, Cahoots, in 1971, their brotherhood was being fractured by fame, substance abuse, and creative stagnation.

Probably the biggest casualty by this time was pianist and singer Richard Manuel. On their first album, he was a key ingredient of their creative stew, contributing a number of that record’s best tracks. But by the fourth album, his creative output had evaporated; he contributed no new material for this album. Drummer and singer Levon Helm’s creative input had also diminished, though he did remain their primary vocalist. That left Robbie Robertson as the driving force for getting this new album together. So then, of course, that imbalance of songwriting led to resentment from the other members. From his perspective, Robertson felt abandoned by the others and forced into taking the role of the leader. And the rest of the band, particularly Levon Helm, would become bitter about the songwriting credits and the lack of royalty payments that followed.

The studio situation just made things worse. Albert Grossman, the band’s manager and also founder of the Bearsville record label, had built Bearsville Sound Studios in Woodstock, New York. It was designed to be a state-of-the-art studio, but when The Band entered it in 1971, the studio wasn’t finished yet, and there were a lot of technical issues that just hadn’t been fixed. And the band were used to working in more natural environments. This new studio felt sterile to them—too bright, too cold. And the album that resulted, Cahoots, is often described as sounding muddy and murky.

Cahoots isn’t a concept or thematic album by design, but there is a thread that runs through the record. Maybe unintentionally, but it’s there. Most of the songs deal with obsolescence: the vanishing of trades and traditions, the extinction of animals like the buffalo and the bald eagle. You could pretty easily extrapolate these themes as representing The Band itself at this time. But we’re still talking about The Band here; even at their lowest points, they were still capable of brilliance. There are a few moments like these on the album, especially the song that opens the record, “Life is a Carnival.”

Interestingly, “Life is a Carnival” is the only song on the album where band members besides Robertson share credit. The song is credited to Rick Danko, Levon Helm, and Robbie Robertson. It features Levon Helm on drums, Rick Danko on fretless bass, Robbie Robertson on guitar, Richard Manuel on piano, and Garth Hudson on a Lowrey organ. The vocals are delivered by both Rick Danko and Levon Helm. The track opens with a single kick drum hit, then the bass, guitar, and the drums and percussion come in for four measures.

(Music: Intro to “Life is a Carnival”)

Okay, a couple of things here. First, I’m hearing a lot of noise in the left channel. I imagine you can hear it too, even on this podcast MP3 file. Now, I’m using the original CD of this album released in 2000 for this breakdown. This album was remixed and remastered in 2021, but I didn’t want to use that version because it’s significantly different than the original album, and I just wanted to stick with the original mix for better or worse. I did go back and listen to my vinyl copy of this album, and other than the typical surface noise from an old record, I didn’t really hear as much noise on the vinyl as I do on this CD. So I don’t know if this is something unique to this particular copy of the CD, but there’s definitely some distracting noise in that left channel. I could run some software to clean it up, but I’m not going to do that; I don’t want to mess with the original track. So we’ll leave it, noise and all.

Okay, so now let’s go back and listen to this intro, this time just the drums and the bass. This is quite a funky little groove that Levon and Rick are laying down. Remember that Rick is playing a fretless bass—it’s actually an Ampeg AMUB-1. We discussed these bases a little bit a few episodes ago on Episode 200 about the history of the electric bass. Let’s hear that intro.

(Music: Isolated bass and drums)

And now, let’s bring up Robbie Robertson’s guitar to see what he’s playing in counterpoint to that groove. Notice how Robbie’s guitar has a tremolo effect on it.

(Music: Isolated guitar with tremolo)

All right, now let’s put that back together and we’ll listen to the first four measures of this intro.

(Music: Reassembled intro)

And here, starting with the next measure, the horns come in. And from my money, the horns are the most exciting part of this song. They were arranged by Allen Toussaint, an absolute legend. Based in New Orleans, Allen Toussaint produced literally hundreds of recordings. He wrote a number of classic songs, he’s in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Songwriters Hall of Fame, the Blues Hall of Fame. He was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Obama in 2013. There’s a street named after him in New Orleans; he even had his own postage stamp issued last year. His horn arrangement on this track is so great.

(Music: Intro with horn section)

A couple more things to note here: the stereo placement of the horns—some on the left, some on the right—really accentuates the way the different horns bounce off of each other in a funky conversation. Also, notice that there’s an acoustic guitar that’s been added, somewhat low in the mix, adding another percussive rhythm.

(Music: Intro with acoustic guitar detail)

That brings us to the first verse, where the vocals come in. The song is sung as a duet between Rick Danko, taking the high parts, and Levon Helm, with Richard Manuel providing backup on the choruses.

(Music: Verse 1 vocals)

That leads us into the second part of the verse and a couple of my favorite lines in the song. It’s a great example of how Robbie Robertson’s songwriting could really paint a visual picture. First, let’s bring up the vocals.

(Music: Verse 1 continued vocals)

You can really picture this guy peddling watches on the street. That’s the hustle, right? The hustle of this carnival called life. Let’s hear that verse in the final mix.

(Music: Verse 1 final mix)

And that brings us to the first chorus. Garth Hudson’s Lowrey organ is heard more prominently here.

(Music: Chorus 1)

The intro riff returns here for a few measures.

(Music: Interlude)

Here comes the second verse, which tells of a man with “a jinx in the third degree” from dealing with people “he can’t see”. This is the most enigmatic line in the song; there’s a few ways you could interpret that. One thing we should probably mention here is that Robbie Robertson actually spent time working in a carnival. When he was 14, he worked at a traveling circus and freak show outside of Toronto. I think the things he saw and experienced there were life lessons that he carried with him—a certain perspective on human nature, which I think informs this song.

(Music: Verse 2)

Before we move on, I want to go back and listen to that verse without the vocals, just to appreciate this performance. Everything about it is great. Levon Helm’s drums are played perfectly laid-back, behind the beat. He’s avoiding the typical clichés and playing around the beat. Rick Danko’s also playing bits that slide around the beat, often avoiding the ‘one’ and playing in between the beats. Robbie Robertson’s laying down an acoustic guitar track that almost functions more as a percussion instrument than a melodic one. And then there’s those horns: sharp, rhythmic stabs bouncing off of each other and the rest of the band. The playing between Rick Danko, Levon Helm, and that brass section creates this push-pull rhythm that is absolutely irresistible.

(Music: Instrumental track of Verse 2)

And the last half of this verse really gets to the crux of the song. “We’re all in the same boat ready to float off the edge of the world; the street is a sideshow, from the peddler to the corner girl. Life is a carnival, it’s in the book. Life is a carnival, take another look.”

(Music: Verse 2 conclusion and Chorus)

Next up is a guitar solo from Robbie Robertson. And what I love about this solo is the way it bobs and weaves around the other parts. But it wasn’t constructed that way; the solo was actually recorded before the brass section was arranged and recorded. Allen Toussaint received a rough mix of the song with the guitar solo already there and wrote the horn parts around the existing solo. Listen to how all of these parts—the solo, the rhythm section, and the horns—interact with each other.

(Music: Guitar solo with horn interaction)

And that brings us to a reprise of the line about the guy hawking watches before one final chorus. But before we get there, I want to listen to just the rhythm section one more time, especially to Rick Danko on fretless bass.

(Music: Rhythm section isolated)

Let’s bring the other instruments back in.

(Music: Instrumental build-up)

All right, now let’s go back, add the vocals back in, and listen to the final mix. This time, listen for Robertson’s funky guitar part and how Garth Hudson’s organ recreates the atmosphere of a circus calliope on the chorus.

(Music: Final Verse and Chorus)

And they’re going to ride out on this great groove into the fade.

(Music: Fade out)

“Life is a Carnival” by The Band.

When Cahoots was released in September 1971, it met with reviews that ranged from mediocre to downright hostile. That was something The Band wasn’t used to; they’d been critical darlings up until that point. The reaction stung, so much so that it would be four years before they released another album of new material. They followed Cahoots with a live album, Rock of Ages, that featured a horn section all arranged by Allen Toussaint. And then, an album of all cover songs called Moondog Matinee. They didn’t release an album of new original songs until Northern Lights-Southern Cross in 1975. By 1978, they called it quits and celebrated with The Last Waltz. They would later reform, but without Robbie Robertson.

All the members of The Band are gone now. Richard Manuel took his own life in March 1986. After a gig in Florida, he hung himself in the hotel bathroom. He was 42 years old.

Rick Danko passed away from heart failure at his home in December 1999. He was 55.

Levon Helm survived a bout with throat cancer in the 1990s that left him unable to sing for years. Eventually, he started singing again in 2004, but it was never really the same. The cancer returned, and after years of a valiant fight, Levon Helm died in April 2012. He was 71.

Robbie Robertson died at the age of 80 in Los Angeles from prostate cancer.

And the last surviving member, Garth Hudson, died in his sleep at a nursing home in Woodstock, New York, on January 21, 2025. He was 87 years old.

The music lives on, though—that’s a cliché to say, but it’s true. They were one of the most influential groups ever, whether people realize it or not, and that music continues to inspire and influence artists upcoming today.

Thanks for checking out this edition of the I’m in Love with That Song podcast. New episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so stay tuned for more. You can catch up on or revisit any of our previous episodes on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. Keep up with us on Facebook—just look for the I’m in Love with That Song podcast, you’ll find us there—or send email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

You can support the show by going to oldglory.com and buying a t-shirt or some band merch. Use our discount code “lovethatsong” to get 15% off.

And please, share the show with the other music lovers in your life—your friends, your family. Please spread the word about this podcast, because that’s what keeps us going.

On behalf of everyone here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, I thank you for listening. And remember– life is a carnival.

(Music: “Life is a Carnival” reprise)

RESOURCES & REFERENCES:

What happens when a record label shelves a band’s most ambitious studio work to capitalize on a surprise live hit? On this episode, we explore this unique moment in rock history and analyze “Dream Police” by Cheap Trick — the title track of the album that sat on a shelf for nine months while Cheap Trick at Budokan conquered the world. We’ll step through the song’s complex architecture, revealing how Rick Nielsen combined lyrics of paranoia with a hard-rocking guitar riff and a heavily orchestrated, at times “horror-movie” vibe.

The episode goes beyond the surface, isolating the tricky guitar melodies, the pre-chorus drama, and the disorienting shift in time signatures. You will gain a new appreciation for the technical prowess of Robin Zander’s vocals, Tom Petersson’s 12-string bass, and Bun E. Carlos’s Moon-esque drumming. Whether you’re a lifelong fan or a newcomer to the “hardest working band in show business,” this episode illustrates why “Dream Police” remains an inescapable classic and a testament to the band’s survival and creativity.

Words & Music by Rick Neilsen Copyright 1979 Screen Gems-EMI Music and Adult Music

TRANSCRIPT:

The smallest bones in your body are in your middle ear. Referred to as the hammer, the anvil, and the stirrup—those are some pretty rock and roll names– these three bones are the first bones in your body to fully ossify; they’re done developing by the time you’re born, and they never grow any bigger. Each of these bones is tiny– smaller than a grain of rice; you could fit all of them on the tip of your finger. But from these tiniest of bones comes a whole universe of creativity and imagination.

This is the I’m in Love with that Song podcast, and I’m your host Brad Page. We’re here on the Pantheon Media Network, and on each edition of this show, I pick a favorite song and we dive into it together, exploring all the nuances, the little moments, and special elements that turn a good song into a great one. If you’re not a musician or you don’t know anything about music theory, don’t worry about it, because we don’t get too technical on this show. All you need is a love for music and a little bit of curiosity, and you’ll fit right in here.

On this episode, we’re heading back to 1979, when one of the all-time great bands was at the top of their game. Cheap Trick were coming off the smash hit live At Budokan album, which they followed up with an album that pushed their sound forward. Stick around as we explore the title cut from this album. This is Cheap Trick with “Dream Police”.

[Music plays]

We’ve discussed Cheap Trick a couple of times before on this show, including an overview of their early career leading up to the At Budokan album. On that show, I was joined by Brian Kramp from the Rock and/or Roll podcast, who wrote the definitive book on Cheap Trick’s history. That book is called This Band Has No Past: How Cheap Trick Became Cheap Trick, and if you don’t have it, go get it—it is a great book. And go back and listen to that episode if you haven’t heard it; it’ll catch you up on the origin of Cheap Trick.

So, I’m not going to cover that same ground here. We’ll pick up the story after the release of the At Budokan album, and that’s a pretty famous story all in itself. Cheap Trick were struggling to break through to the masses in the U.S., but they had managed to gain rock star status in Japan. A live album was recorded during their 1978 tour of Japan, and it was intended as a Japanese-only release. But American radio stations started playing it, and word of this killer import-only live album caught on. Epic Records realized that if they released it in the U.S., they could have a hit on their hands—which they certainly did. When that album came out in the U.S. in February 1979, Cheap Trick At Budokan would eventually sell over three million copies.

Which was great, except for one thing: Cheap Trick had already recorded their next studio album, and it was ready to be released when the record company decided to put it back on the shelf and release the live album globally instead. So the new album, the band’s most ambitious record to date, sat unreleased for at least nine months.

This new album was produced by Tom Werman and engineered by Gary Ladinsky. Along with band members Robin Zander on lead vocals and guitar, Rick Nielsen on lead guitar and occasional vocals, Tom Petersson on bass, and Bun E. Carlos on drums, the band was augmented by some additional studio musicians, most notably Jai Winding, who added keyboards and also helped with the string arrangements. The addition of strings on this album really expanded the sound of this album, but there was another technical decision that contributed to this album’s sound. This was one of the first handful of recordings to be made with the 3M Digital Audio Mastering system, a system that offered 32 tracks of digital recording.

The song that opens the album, side one, track one, would also give the album its name: “Dream Police”. The song was written by Rick Nielsen and performed by Nielsen on guitar, mandocello, and vocals; Robin Zander on lead vocals and probably some rhythm guitar; Bun E. Carlos on drums; and Tom Petersson on 12-string bass.[1] Also appearing on the track are Jai Winding on piano and organ, and producer Tom Werman and engineer Gary Ladinsky also chip in with some background vocals.

The song kicks off with two flams on the snare drum, and we’re off and running.

[Music plays]

The track is already sonically full right from the start, but it’s still just guitars, bass, and drums, and the strings. Before we get any further, let’s just take a minute to look at the parts. Along with the drums, there are two guitar parts panned left and right.

[Music plays]

Then there’s the string parts, which are very dramatic. These are not lush, gentle, romantic strings; there’s a lot of energy and power in this string arrangement.

[Music plays]

And then, underneath it all, is Tom Petersson’s bass part, played on his trademark 12-string bass, which is such a part of the Cheap Trick sound. It blends in with the final mix so it doesn’t necessarily stand out any different than a standard bass part, but when you hear it in isolation, then you can really hear all of those strings ringing out and what it adds to the overall sound and feel of the track.

[Music plays]

We will take a closer look at all of these parts as we go through the song, but for now, let’s move on. The song begins with the chorus, though that’s not exactly a rarity; it is a little less common for a rock song to lead off with the chorus.

[Music plays]

That leads immediately into the first verse. And I think what really makes these verses work, besides the great vocal by Robin Zander, is the combination of the organ, which sounds straight out of a horror movie, and Tom Petersson’s bass part. That 12-string bass really delivers something special here

[Music plays]

The guitar basically lays out most of the verse and just adds some accent chords. Let’s go back and listen to those two parts I mentioned before. First, the organ:

[Music plays]

And here’s the bass part:

[Music plays]

The next section—let’s call that the pre-chorus—perfectly builds the drama into the chorus. Let’s break this down bit by bit.

[Music plays]

First, notice how on the second half of that line, “They’re looking for me,” Petersson doubles the vocal melody on his bass.

[Music plays]

Next, all the instruments and the vocals, they all hit the same syncopated beats together.

[Music plays]

Let’s bring up the drums a little bit in the mix here.

[Music plays]

And another nice little touch is how Rick Nielsen is sliding down out of each of those chord hits. Let’s hear that.

[Music plays]

All right, let’s move on to the next bit. Both the guitar and the bass are playing a nice little descending riff there.

[Music plays]

Okay, let’s keep going. And let’s hear Bun E. Carlos one more time with that drum fill that leads us into the chorus.

[Music plays]

All right, now that we’ve heard that all chopped up, let’s go back and play through the whole pre-chorus into the chorus.

[Music plays]

Let’s look at the vocals on the chorus. Sounds to me like Robin Zander has double-tracked his main vocal, with what I assume is Rick, Tom Werman, and Gary Ladinsky providing the falsetto backing vocals.

[Music plays]

And that brings us to the second verse. And this time, let’s bring up Robin Zander’s vocal first.

[Music plays]

Okay, now let’s hear the final mix of that verse.

[Music plays]

Bun E. Carlos plays some nice drum fills coming out of that verse, so let’s hear that for a second.

[Music plays]

And that brings us to another pre-chorus and chorus. Let’s focus on the vocals again.

[Music plays]

And now we’ve reached the bridge, which is a spoken word part by Rick Nielsen. Let’s just hear his vocal.

[Music plays]

And now we’ll listen to it in context.

[Music plays]

And then there’s a really short guitar solo. It’s nothing flashy, just Rick playing this almost woozy melody; it’s a little disorienting, almost like waking up from a dream.

[Music plays]

That little string part there really adds a lot. And that takes us into one final pre-chorus.

[Music plays]

Now, they’re going to stretch out this last line as the song builds. The bass will hold down the root note while Rick Nielsen’s guitar will climb—slowly at first, then faster. They’re just wringing every bit of drama out of this one chord.

[Music plays]

And we’ve reached a new section of the song, a heavily orchestrated part. All the instruments—the drums, the bass, the guitar, and the strings—each have a different part to play. And to make it even more disorienting, the time signature will shift: two measures of four beats, and then one measure of three beats. And that pattern will continue through this section: two measures of 4/4, one measure of 3/4. Let’s break it down starting with the drums. Bun E. Carlos is playing a part that reminds me of Keith Moon, though not as manic—of course, no one was as manic as Keith Moon.

[Music plays]

Next, let’s hear Rick Nielsen’s guitar. He’s playing these crazy arpeggiated chords; they’re almost dissonant in places, which just adds to the disorientation along with those shifting time signatures.

[Music plays]

In contrast, the bass is playing steady, rapidly picking one note at a time, slowly climbing until he hits a plateau alternating between two notes.

[Music plays]

And finally, the strings are playing an intense cinematic part building to their own crescendo.

[Music plays]

Now let’s hear all of that together as it builds until it finally explodes into the last choruses.

[Music plays]

You can hear some handclaps overdubbed here.

[Music plays]

“Dream Police” – Cheap Trick

Though the At Budokan album would remain Cheap Trick’s best-selling album, Dream Police was their biggest studio album. The song “Dream Police” is maybe the perfect example of Rick Nielsen’s one-of-a-kind songwriting: combining a lyric of nightmare and paranoia with a guitar riff that just rocks hard and orchestration that makes the song a cinematic anthem.

A lot has happened since 1979, but Cheap Trick is still making records and touring consistently. They remain one of the hardest-working bands in the business. And though Bun E. Carlos is no longer a member of the band, all four of the original members are still alive and well at the time of this recording. Cheap Trick are true survivors in every sense of the word.

“Dream Police” is one of those songs that’s just ingrained in my life. I was in high school when it came out, and the song was inescapable. A few years later, when I bought my first car—a second-hand Plymouth Satellite Sebring—it had an old eight-track player in it, so I went out and bought a bunch of second-hand eight-tracks to play in the car. I probably owned maybe six albums on eight-track, but one of them was Dream Police.

I hope you enjoyed this episode of the I’m in Love with that Song podcast. Don’t forget to follow the show so that you never miss an episode. New episodes come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so there’ll be another episode coming your way soon. And there’s over 200 previous episodes of this show; if you missed any of them, you can find them all on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. I always like to hear your thoughts. You can communicate with us on Facebook—just look for the I’m in Love with that Song podcast there—or send an email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

It always helps if you leave a positive review wherever you listen to this show, so thanks for that. But the best thing you can do to support us is to tell someone about the show, recommend it to your friends or family. A good word from listeners like you, that is priceless.

I’ll be back here on the Pantheon Podcast Network with a new episode soon. Until then, watch out for the dream police. Sleep tight…

RESOURCES & REFERENCES:

Bands & Artists

Books & Research

Record Labels & Media

Technical References

Wilson Pickett, a name synonymous with soul music, has a catalog filled with timeless classics. From “In the Midnight Hour” to “Mustang Sally,” his influence on the genre is undeniable. But in this episode, we focus on one of his lesser-discussed yet equally powerful–and damn funky– tracks, “Get Me Back on Time, Engine Number 9 (Parts 1 & 2)“. This song is a testament to Pickett’s versatility and the genius of Gamble & Huff and the production team at Sigma Sound.

“Get Me Back On Time, Engine Number 9 (Parts 1 & 2)” (Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff) Copyright 1970

Take advantage of our discount code lovethatsong and save 15% off t-shirts & merch from your favorite bands at OldGlory.com!

TRANSCRIPT:

Okay, all you midnight movers and night owls, the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast is back with another episode, right here on the Pantheon Podcast Network. My name is Brad Page, and I’m the host of this here show, where we take a look at a different song each episode and explore the performance and production choices that turn a good song into a great one. Don’t worry if you’re not a musician or you don’t know anything about music theory, because none of that is required here. We don’t get too technical. We just try to open up our ears and listen.

On this edition of the podcast, we’re going to revisit one of my favorite soul singers, a real legit legend: Wilson Pickett, and a little bit of psychedelic soul with a song called “Get Me Back On Time, Engine Number Nine”.

We spent some time with Wilson Pickett back on Episode 96 of this podcast, where we explored the song “99 And A Half Won’t Do”. So I’m not going to go over this same ground again. You can go back and listen to that episode if you want that info. But quick review: Wilson Pickett was born in Alabama in March 1941. His first taste of success came with The Falcons when he sang lead on their hit “I Found A Love”. But he soon departed The Falcons, eventually landing at Atlantic Records and cut some classic singles down at Stax Records’ Studio in Memphis– a handful of the greatest R&B singles ever recorded. “In The Midnight Hour”, “634-5789”, “99 And A Half Won’t Do”. And then after that, he had an even more remarkable run down at Fame studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, cutting absolutely legendary tracks like “Land of a Thousand Dances”, “Funky Broadway”, “Soul Dance Number Three”, and of course, “Mustang Sally”.

Pickett also began exploring material outside of straightforward R&B. He was particularly good at taking rock songs and adapting them to fit his style. One of the first and best of these covers was his version of “Hey Jude” by the Beatles.

Playing guitar on that session was a brilliant young guitarist named Duane Allman. In fact, it was Duane who suggested Wilson cover “Hey Jude”. When Eric Clapton heard Duane’s playing on “Hey Jude”, it instantly caught his attention. It was the first time he had heard of Duane Allman.

About a year later, Clapton would invite Duane to play on the Derek and the Dominoes sessions, making history. But that’s a subject for another podcast.

Over the ensuing years, Pickett would cover more rock songs, including “Born To Be Wild”, “Groovin’”, “Hey Joe”, a killer version of “Fire and Water”, originally by Free. He even had a hit with a cover of “Sugar Sugar” by the Archies.

But back in 1970, Wilson’s creative burst at Muscle Shoals eventually ran its course. So Atlantic Records moved him up to Philadelphia to work with Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, the hot new writer-producer duo working out of Sigma Sound. The result was the album “Wilson Pickett in Philadelphia”, which probably as an album, opposed to singles, it’s probably my favorite Wilson Pickett album.

That album featured two hits, “Don’t Let The Green Grass Fool You”, which hit number two on the R&B chart, and “Engine Number nine”, which made it to number three.

“Engine Number Nine”, officially titled “Get Me Back On Time, Engine Number Nine (Parts 1 & 2)”, two developed out of a jam session at Sigma Sound. Wilson was encouraging the band to find the right groove, a heavy one. They cut one take, clocking in at about three and a half minutes. Then they did it again with the final version running six minutes and 25 seconds. To release it on a 45 revolutions-per-minute seven inch single, they had to split it in two– hence the part one and part two of the title.

The band in Philly included Bobby Eli, Norman Harris and Roland Chambers, all on guitars, Tom Bell on organ, Eugene Dozier and Lenny Pakula on piano, Ronnie Baker on bass, Vince Montana on vibes and percussion, Earl Young on drums, and Sam Reed and his horn section on horns. The song was written and produced by Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff.

The song kicks off with a snare drum fill. Then the bass comes in, along with some percussion. There’s quite a few different percussion elements used in this song. Right here we’re hearing a cowbell and a shaker, primarily in the right channel. And now here comes the main riff.

Okay, there’s actually a lot going on here. Just looking at the percussion by itself, you’ve got the drums, cowbell, some other kind of drum in there– could be a conga or a timbale, doesn’t really sound like either of those to me. Could just be a tom, I’m not sure.

And then there’s this kind of wacky sound made by something called a “vibraslap”. It’s a strange looking contraption, a metal rod that’s kind of bent in the shape of the letter “R”, with a wooden ball at one end and what looks like a wood cowbell at the other end, with some metal pins in it that rattle when it vibrates. It’s hard to describe, just go look it up on the internet if you want to see what it looks like. But the vibraslap kind of sounds like a rattlesnake. You’ll hear it in all kinds of songs. Everything from “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith to “Short Skirt Long Jacket” by Cake, and “Crazy Train” by Ozzy. You’ll hear the vibraslap all through this track.

Then there’s the bass. At least two guitars, one clean tone, one totally fuzzed out. And, I believe, an electric piano in the left channel, duplicating the bass part.

There’s this nasty, crashing, scratchy sound that occurs occasionally. That’s the fuzz tone guitar doing that part.

So, after a couple of measures of that setting the groove, Wilson comes in with the vocal.

The groove is gonna shift a little bit here. And I especially like these guitar parts.

Let’s go back, drop the vocals out, and just listen to what the band is doing, because I think they’re playing great here.

Next, we get a whacked-out guitar solo from Bobby Eli. Guitar sounds don’t get any nastier than this. If I had to take a wild guess, I’d say he’s using a Univox Super Fuzz pedal to get that sound. It’s like an ice pick in your eardrum– In a good way.

Once again, I want to go back. This time, I just want to hear the bass and the drums.

Let’s bring everyone back in. Listen to Bobby Eli’s guitar here. And here’s a vintage Wilson Pickett scream for you.

The clean guitar comes forward in the mix here. I’m not sure if it’s Norman Harris or Roland Chambers who played this part. They change up the groove again. And the shaker returns.

Notice how they add an echo to the snare drum.

You’ve also got an organ in the left channel now. Bobby Eli’s guitar is just screeching, it’s feeding back all over the place. It’s pretty wild.

Let’s bring up the drums in the mix now. They’re going to break it down to just the drums and that fuzz tone guitar.

Slowly building it back up.

And now a break for just the drums and percussion.

This guitar part is actually two guitars, the clean one and the fuzz tone guitar bouncing back and forth, playing off of each other like it was one part. Listen to that big echo on the snare drum again.

Wilson Pickett – “Get Me Back On Time, Engine Number Nine (Parts 1 & 2)”

This would be the only album Wilson recorded in Philadelphia. He would return to Muscle Shoals for one more album for Atlantic Records, then he signed with RCA Records for a while, and then EMI, and even Motown.

But like many soul, funk, and R&Bartists, he got left behind when Disco became the hot new thing, and his career never really recovered, not in any commercial sense. Though he kept on working. He survived personal struggles with addiction and some pretty violent behavior as a result.

He released one final album– call it a comeback album if you want– in 1999, called “It’s Harder Now”. On January 19, 2006, at the age of 64, Wilson died from a heart attack. It was little Richard who delivered the eulogy at his funeral.

Wilson’s voice didn’t quite have the primal scream of James Brown, or the tenderness and depth of emotion as Otis Redding, but when matched with the right material– and more often than not, he was matched with the perfect material– Wilson Pickett was unbeatable. Has anyone recorded a better song than “In The Midnight Hour”? As good as sure, but better? I haven’t heard it. Wilson Pickett has at least a half a dozen songs in his catalog that are stone cold classics. In my opinion, he’s earned his place among the greats.

Thanks for tuning in to the Pantheon Podcast Network and listening to this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. As always, new episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll see you back here in just over two weeks.

If you’d like to catch up on our previous episode on Wilson Pickett, you’ll find it on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com, along with over 150 episodes on many other songs, all hand selected with care by me.

If you’d like to support the show, go buy a t-shirt at oldglory.com and use our promo code lovethatsong. Save a few bucks.

And please tell a friend about this show, because recommendations from smart, sophisticated listeners like you really are the number one thing that helps us grow.

So thanks again for listening to this episode on Wilson Pickett and “Get Me Back On Time, Engine Number Nine”.

RESOURCES:

Wilson Pickett
Wilson Pickett – Wikipedia

Atlantic Records
Atlantic Records

Stax Records
Stax Records

Fame Studios
Fame Studios

Sigma Sound
Sigma Sound Studios – Wikipedia

Kenny Gamble
Kenny Gamble – Wikipedia

Leon Huff
Leon Huff – Wikipedia

We celebrate the 201st installment of the podcast by revisiting one of our first subjects– the legendary Paul McCartney and his band Wings, with the non-album single “Junior’s Farm.”

Released in November 1974, this track developed during McCartney’s escape to a Nashville farm during a tumultuous time in his life, following the breakup of The Beatles. Join us as we explore the song’s origins, the dynamic lineup of Wings during this period, and the memorable guitar work of Jimmy McCulloch, who made his mark with this track. We’ll dissect the song’s unique structure, the production choices, and the whimsical lyrics that embody McCartney’s signature style. This episode is a deep dive into a classic that showcases the artistry and evolution of one of music’s most beloved figures.

“Junior’s Farm” (P. McCartney, L. McCartney) Copyright 1974 MPL Communications Ltd.

TRANSCRIPT:

Low life, high life, oh, let’s go down to the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I’m your host, Brad Page, and we are here on the Pantheon Podcast Network– where fans belong– with another edition of the show where I pick one of my favorite songs and we explore it together.

For those of you keeping count, this is episode 201– the 201st episode of this podcast. Some of you have been with us since the very first episode, and you may remember that on our first show, episode one, we covered a song by Paul McCartney. It was a non-album track; actually, it was a B-Side. Well, here we are, exactly 200 episodes later, so I thought it would be nice to return to McCartney and another of his non-album tracks. This one was released as a single in November 1974; this is Paul McCartney and Wings with “Junior’s Farm”.

The seeds that would eventually develop into this song sprouted back in 1970, during the breakup of the Beatles. It’s a very contentious period for everyone involved; lots of business meetings with lawyers, and McCartney couldn’t wait for those meetings to end so he could escape to his farm in Scotland.

Cut to 1974, when McCartney and the current lineup of Wings, decamped to Nashville, Tennessee. They were invited to stay at a farm owned by Curly Putman, a Nashville songwriter. He was most famous for writing “Green Green Grass of Home”. Putman’s nickname just happened to be “Junior”.

The band’s visit to Tennessee was primarily to rehearse, but Buddy Killen, who had arranged their visit, also happened to own a studio called “Sound Shop”. So, of course, the band eventually ended up at that studio.

They would work up a handful of songs at Sound Shop, including a track called “Junior’s Farm”, which was actually the last song that they laid down at that studio. The band had been rehearsing the track out at the farm, so when they hit the studio, they were ready to record it more or less live.

This was an interesting period for Wings. The previous album, “Band On The Run”, had been recorded as a trio: Paul and Linda McCartney, and Denny Laine. But by this time, they had recruited two new members.

The first new addition was a 20-year-old Scottish guitarist named Jimmy McCulloch. Guitarist Jimmy McCulloch was something of a child prodigy. He started performing professionally when he was 14, and in 1969, when he was just 16, he joined Thunderclap Newman. They had a number one hit in England with “Something In The Air”, a track produced by Pete Townsend of The Who.

After that band split, Jimmy worked on a number of projects and did session work for John Entwistle and Harry Nilsson, and eventually joined the band Stone The Crows. He met Paul McCartney in August of 1973.

Paul’s brother Mike McCartney, better known as Mike McGear, was recording a solo album, and Paul had agreed to produce it. He did more than just produce it, though. He co-wrote most of the songs, and it’s almost a stealth Wings album as Paul, Linda and Denny play on every song… and Jimmy McCulloch was invited to play on the album too. Essentially, it was Jimmy’s audition for Wings, and by May of 1974, Jimmy became a member of Wings.

The next task was to find a new drummer. Paul let the word get out that he was looking for a new drummer, and after his office was deluged with over 400 phone calls, Paul narrowed the list down to 52 drummers who were invited to audition. And out of all those auditions, five finalists were selected. And in the end, a drummer named Geoff Britton was selected.

Geoff was from London, and he had played in a band called East Of Eden, and then with the Wild Angels. One of the songs he jammed on with Paul, Linda, Denny and Jimmy as part of his audition was an early version of “Junior’s Farm”, though it didn’t have a title yet. Like Jimmy, Geoff Britton became a member of Wings in May 1974.

\And this was the lineup that arrived at Curly Putman’s Farm in June of that summer.  Along with Geoff Britton on drums and Jimmy McCulloch on guitar, “Junior’s Farm” features Denny Laine on guitar and backing vocals, Linda McCartney on percussion, Fender Rhodes electric piano and backing vocals, and Paul McCartney on bass and lead vocal. The song was written by Paul and Linda McCartney, and produced by Paul. It was released on November 1, 1974 on Apple Records. This would be McCartney’s final release on Apple.

The song begins with an intro featuring harmonized guitar leads by Jimmy McCulloch and Denny Laine. The core parts of the song had been worked out for a while, but the intro and outro were late additions to the song. They came up with this intro just prior to entering the studio to start recording. Let’s hear just those guitars.

And that brings us into the main groove of the song, which makes up the verse section. You can hear McCartney interject a couple of “Ha”s in there. Before we get to the verse, let’s back that up again.

That is the first of many tasty guitar parts that Jimmy McCulloch adds to this song. This was Jimmy’s debut as Wings’ new guitar player, and he comes out of the gate firing on all cylinders here. Great guitar work by Jimmy all through this song. Jimmy McCulloch is one of my favorite guitar players, so we’re gonna pay attention to his playing throughout this track.

One of the interesting choices in the production of this song is the use of that phasing effect on the vocals throughout the song. That effect is also applied to the guitar at times, too.

That effect was not part of the original recording or the initial mixes done in Nashville. When McCartney returned to England, he made several more attempts to remix the song with various engineers, but he wasn’t happy with any of those mixes. Eventually, in October ‘74, McCartney let an engineer named Alan O’Duffy have a crack at mixing it. And one of the things O’Duffy added was that phasing effect. And this was the mix that finally met McCartney’s approval. That phasing effect particularly stands out on the chorus.

This song has always seemed to have somewhat of an unusual structure, to me anyway.  There are two verses, then the first chorus, and then a guitar solo. Then there are two more verses, two more choruses, a repeat of the intro, then two more verses; one is a repeat of the first verse; two final choruses, and the outro. But it always seemed to me that this guitar solo comes awfully early in the song. I would have expected it to come much later, but here it is, and it is a great guitar solo. It feels improvised. It was clearly done in one take; it’s a little rough around the edges, but it is so well-structured. It flows perfectly, and it’s melodic enough that you could sing it. It’s everything I want in a guitar solo. First, let’s hear the guitar track.

Now let’s hear that in context. And I always loved how McCartney calls out Jimmy by name before he starts to solo.

You get the feeling Paul was happy to show off his hot new guitar player.

That brings us to the third and fourth verses. The lyrics to the song don’t really mean anything. The chorus is just about McCartney’s desire to get out of the city and escape to his farm. The verses don’t really make any sense… they’re not supposed to. McCartney has written a number of songs filled with oddly impressionistic lyrics, and this is one of them. There’s the poker man, the Eskimo, and the sea lion from the first two verses.  This time around, we hear about Parliament, the President. He also references Ollie Hardy– if you remember Laurel and Hardy, the comedy team who were around from the 1920s to the 1950s– and he mentions something about Hardy buying a Gee-Gee who jumped the fence. Gee-Gee is apparently British slang for a race horse.

Let’s bring up the vocals for these two verses.

That brings us back to the chorus. So let’s listen to that, and again, notice that phasing effect on the vocals.

They repeat the chorus again here. That leads into a repeat of the introduction.  The first time around, we listened to just the guitars, so this time let’s hear what the bass and the drums are doing during this part.

Let’s hear the final mix, and notice how that phasing effect is applied to the guitars here.

McCartney’s adding in those “Ha”s again.

Let’s back out the vocals and listen to just the instrumental tracks. For this verse, Denny Laine’s guitar and Linda’s electric piano are primarily in the left channel, while Jimmy McCulloch’s guitar is leaned to the right, and it’s mixed quite a bit higher.

With the vocals in place, there’s one new verse, and then a repeat of the first verse, but this time with harmony vocals added.

Let’s hear just the vocals on that last verse and leading into the chorus.

And that closes out the body of the song and brings us into the outro– completely new part. This was a brand-new section that McCartney came up with in the studio as they recorded it. It was not worked out in advance.

They start to play a few notes of the intro– this time Paul doubles it on his bass– but then they hold a note and shift down to E minor in a dramatically different feel.

Okay, let’s examine a few things here, starting with the guitar part under this section.

And let’s listen to McCartney’s vocal here. This is his most intense vocal performance of the whole song. But before he lays into it, there’s a little bit of studio chatter that was left on the tape. Let’s hear all of that.

And Jimmy McCulloch gets in a few more nice bits before the song plays out. So let’s hear his guitar part.

Let’s put all those pieces back together and listen to the outro in full.

Wings – “Junior’s Farm”.

This lineup of Wings didn’t last long. After recording a handful of tracks in Tennessee, the band returned to England. The McCartneys headed to their High Park Farm in Scotland, where Paul could write some new songs. In late August, the band reconvened at Abbey Road to film a live-in-the-studio performance. Paul had a vision of releasing this as a television special that he wanted to call “One Hand Clapping”. But that footage remained unreleased until 2024.

The band began recording some new material in England in the fall, and then flew to New Orleans to work on what would become the “Venus And Mars” album. But after only a week, it was decided that Geoff Briton just wasn’t the right fit, and he was dismissed in January 1975… his tenure in Wings having lasted seven months.

Jimmy McCulloch was always a mercurial presence in the band; he was young, he was brash, and when he was under the influence of one substance or another, he could be pretty tough to deal with. But he was a brilliant player and a valuable contributor, so McCartney put up with it.  But eventually it just became too much, and Jimmy was let go from Wings in August of 1977.

Jimmy would go on to join the reformed Small Faces, but that didn’t last long. There was a short-lived attempt to put a band together with Brian Robertson from Thin Lizzy, but that fell apart quickly. He recorded one album with The Dukes, which had some promise… but on September 27, 1979, Jimmy McCulloch died from heart failure due to morphine and alcohol poisoning. He was just 26 years old.

Jimmy’s name never appears on the list of top guitarists from the 1970’s, but he’s always on my list of favorites. He could always be relied upon to deliver a concise, tasteful, memorable guitar solo. “Junior’s Farm” is a perfect example of that. I love Jimmy McCulloch’s playing.

 Thanks for listening to this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I used a few different resources to put this episode together, including an article in Mix Magazine by Barbara Schultz, and especially the fantastic book “The McCartney Legacy, Volume 2” by Alan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair.  Gotta give them all credit for their hard work, and I highly recommend that book for any hardcore McCartney fan.

New episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll meet you back here in about two weeks. If you’d like to support the show, you can head over to oldglory.com and buy yourself a T-shirt or some band merch. They have stuff in stock from all your favorite artists, including plenty of Beatles and McCartney stuff. So place an order and use our discount code “LoveThatSong” to save 15%. That’s oldglory.com, discount code LoveThatSong, save 15%, and you’ll be helping to support this show. So thanks.

You can communicate with us on Facebook, just search for the “I’m In Love With That Song podcast”, you’ll find us.  Or email us at lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

Share this episode with your friends and family and help spread the word. I’ll see you back here next time. Now, let’s all head down to “Junior’s Farm” — everybody tag along. Take me down, Jimmy!

In this episode, we pay homage to the legendary Curtis Mayfield, a pivotal figure often overlooked in discussions about the great artists of the ’60s and ’70s. Join us as we explore his poignant track “Hard Times” from the album There’s No Place Like America Today. We delve into the rich history of his career, from his early days with The Impressions to his groundbreaking solo work that tackled social and political issues head-on.

We uncover the intricate layers of this slow-burning groove, highlighting the subtle interplay of instruments and the emotional depth of Mayfield’s lyrics. As we navigate through the song’s haunting themes of love, fear, and societal struggles, you’ll gain a deeper appreciation for Mayfield’s artistry and the timeless relevance of his message. Tune in for an insightful journey into the life and music of a true musical genius.

“Hard Times” – Curtis Mayfield Copyright 1975 Comad Music Co. BMI

TRANSCRIPT:

People, get ready– The “I’m In Love With That Song” Podcast is coming! My name is Brad Page, thanks for joining me here on the Pantheon Podcast Network. Each episode of this show, I pick one of my favorite songs and we take the time to listen– really listen– to uncover little elements, those special moments that turn a good song into a great one. Musical expertise is not a prerequisite here; you don’t have to know anything about music theory or understand a lot of technical jargon. We’re just going to put our ears to work and discover what’s been right there all along.

On this edition of the podcast, we’re going to be exploring a track by one of the most important figures in music history. When people list the important black artists of the 60’s and 70’s, you often hear musical geniuses like Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Sly Stone, Michael Jackson and Prince… but there’s one name that often gets overlooked: Curtis Mayfield.

Well, on this episode, we’re going to pay tribute to this musical genius by listening to Curtis Mayfield and a song called “Hard Times”.

Curtis Mayfield was born in Chicago in June 1942. When he was around 8 years old, he stumbled across a guitar shoved in the back of a closet and that was it. He’d already been singing in church and noodling around on piano, but man, when he found that guitar, he really fell in love. It set the direction for the rest of his life, really.

When he played piano, he liked to use the black keys, which meant that he was mostly playing in the key of F#. So when he taught himself to play guitar– and he was entirely self-taught– he transferred that to the guitar, and created his own F# tuning on guitar, which gave him a sound unlike anyone else.

He dropped out of school when he was 16 and joined a local group called The Roosters. Eventually they changed their name to The Impressions. Their first hit was “For Your Precious Love” in 1958, featuring the vocals of Jerry Butler, the band leader.

That taste of success was enough to inspire Butler to go solo, so he left and Curtis took over The Impressions. In 1961, with Curtis at the helm, The Impressions had a hit with “Gypsy Woman”. Their next big hit was in 1963 with “It’s All Right”.

Under Mayfield’s direction, they developed their unique harmonies centered around Mayfield’s falsetto vocals, as exemplified with their 1964 hit “I’m So Proud”.

But Curtis had more on his mind beyond love and romance. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Curtis Mayfield was a black man living in America in the 1960’s, and he wasn’t just a witness to what was going on– he was part of it. He was living it. And he had things to say.

For all that was great about Motown, they stayed decidedly away from politics; and Stax Records, even though they were integrated and in that sense, more progressive than most, they largely avoided the subject at the time. The fact that they were located in Memphis probably meant it was safer if they didn’t.

But Curtis had no such reservations. They released “Keep On Pushing” in 1964, one of the first pop songs to directly address civil rights.

That was followed by “People Get Ready” in 1965. By any measure, one of the most significant singles ever released. It reached number three on the R&B charts, number 14 on the Top 100 chart. Martin Luther King considered it the unofficial anthem of the civil rights movement. It’s been covered dozens of times, by everyone from The Staple Singers to Bob Dylan, from Bob Marley to Rod Stewart and Jeff Beck. It’s a song that still inspires today.

“People Get Ready” was also the first time that Mayfield’s guitar was prominently featured on a track.

Curtis continued to write songs addressing the social and political environment, particularly from the black perspective. His lyrics could be pointed, but the music was always subtle, gentle and encouraging. He might have been angry– God knows there’s plenty to be angry about– but the music was rarely delivered in anger.

In 1968, he launched his own record label with manager Eddie Thomas called Curom Records. Finally, he was able to control his own recording and publishing, something very few artists, black or white, were able to do. In 1968, he released his first solo album, simply titled “Curtis”, in 1970. It is a great record, including at least two classics: “Move On Up” and “Don’t Worry If There’s A Hell Below, We’re All Going To Go”. Listen to the fuzz bass on this track.

Two more albums followed in 1971, and then in 1972, he got the job to create the soundtrack to “Superfly”.

Mayfield’s soundtrack is simply iconic. Along with Isaac Hayes’ “Shaft”, it defined the sound of this era of filmmaking. The thing is, Curtis wasn’t really a fan of the movie, at least not the message. Where the film “Superfly” in some ways glorifies drug dealers, Curtis wanted none of that; he was not interested in promoting that. So, with the “Superfly” soundtrack, you have these songs that are, in essence, commenting on the actions and the characters in the film, with Curtis giving his point of view, which often is in opposition to the images on the screen. It all makes for, I think, one of the most interesting and unique soundtracks ever recorded. Along with the title cut, the album also features a few other classics like “Pusher Man” and “Freddy’s Dead”.

The success of the “Superfly” album, and the album literally outsold the movie, that success ushered in a second career for Mayfield, writing and recording for films, and he would release a handful of other soundtracks, working with Gladys Knight, the Staples Singers and Aretha Franklin.

And he would continue recording solo albums. “Back To Whe World” came out in 1973, “Sweet Exorcist” and “Got To Find A Way” in 1974, and 1975’s “There’s No Place Like America Today”. That’s the album we’re visiting on this episode.

“There’s No Place Like America Today” was Mayfield’s seventh studio album. Curtis was wrestling with his own depression, not to mention the troubling situations in America at the time… I guess some things never change. This is Mayfield’s State of the Union album, and it’s sobering. Death, poverty, sadness all make their way into these songs, but so does love and romance, faith and hope.  Its ‘one of my favorite Curtis Mayfield albums… in fact, maybe it is my favorite.

The song we’re digging into in this episode is “Hard Times”. It’s the second-to-last song on the album.

The album was produced by Curtis, and features Gary Thompson and Phil Upchurch on guitars, Rich Tufo on keyboards, Harold Dessent on woodwinds, Joseph “Lucky” Scott on bass, Quinton Joseph on drums, Henry Gibson on percussion, and Curtis Mayfield on vocals, guitar and keyboards.

“Hard Times”, like all of the songs on the album, was written by Curtis Mayfield. And like most of the tracks on this album, it’s a slow burn. Doesn’t come on strong, but the groove is insistent. The song kicks off with a single hit on the hi-hat and then the band launches into the groove.

Let’s explore this groove a little bit. Let’s start with the bass, drums and percussion. You can hear that the drums are recorded quite dry, not much for reverb or room sound on them. And that makes for a very intimate and maybe even a little claustrophobic sound.

Now let’s hear the guitars. I’m just making a guess here, but I think we’re hearing Curtis and Gary Thompson on rhythm guitars and it’s Phil Upchurch playing some lead lines in the left channel, using a wah-wah pedal to get that classic sound.

Alright, lets go back to the top.

At this point, there’s a subtle shift in the groove, and the guitar solo comes a little more forward. Focus on those tasty licks.

That leads us to the first verse. You’ll hear multiple vocals; all the voices are Curtis overdubbed.

I really like that little instrumental break there. Here comes the second verse, and Curtis is really laying it out here. You can feel his depression and paranoia in these lyrics. “I’m afraid to come outside; although I’m filled with love I’m afraid they’ll hurt my pride, so I play the part I feel they want of me, and I’ll pull the shades so I won’t see them seeing me.”

Nice guitar lick there. There’s more tasty guitar playing coming up. It’s in the left channel, but let’s see if we can bring it to the center and up the volume a bit.

That brings us to the third and final verse. Just a classic Curtis Mayfield vocal on this track. You can really feel the emotion in his voice.

For this chorus, let’s hear what the band is doing underneath the vocals. The interplay between the bass and the drums, it’s great.

Let’s pick it up from there through the chorus.

And the track will slowly fade out. Riding out on the groove.

Curtis Mayfield – “Hard Times”

As I said at the beginning, when people mention the important black artists of the late 60’s and 70’s, it’s usually names like James Brown, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Prince; Curtis Mayfield is often left off the list, but he stands toe-to-toe with any of the important artists of that period.

Curtis would continue to release albums through the 70’s and the 80’s, as well as doing concert tours… and it was at a concert in Brooklyn, New York, on August 13, 1990– an outdoor show at Wingate Field,– when a storm was brewing. And just as Curtis’s name was announced and he headed for the stage, a massive gust of wind hit the lighting trusses. Lights came crashing down, injuring half a dozen people. And Curtis, Curtis was struck in the back of his neck, breaking his third, fourth and fifth vertebrae. Curtis was permanently paralyzed from the neck down. He’d never play guitar again. He was 48 years old.

Being paralyzed made breathing difficult, which made it almost impossible for him to sing. But Curtis didn’t give up. In 1996, six years after the accident, he released one final album titled “New World Order”. Recording it was painstaking and arduous. He discovered that if he laid on his back, gravity would help him to exhale, just enough to be able to sing one line at a time.

And so slowly, a line at a time, he was able to record his vocals for this last album.

Curtis’ health declined, and in December 1999, the day after Christmas, Curtis passed away. He was 57.

Rolling Stone magazine referred to him as “the gentle genius”. That’s as good as any way to describe the great Curtis Mayfield.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of the podcast. As always, we’ll be back in about two weeks with another new episode. All of our previous shows are available on our website, and we’re creeping up on 200 episodes, so there’s plenty of them to be discovered. You can listen on the website, lovethatsongpodcast.com, or find the shows on your favorite podcast app.

You can keep in touch with us on Facebook, just look for the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast and you’ll find us there. Or send an email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

Support the show by sharing it with your friends and family. And if you’d like to go one step further, then head over to oldglory.com and buy a t-shirt or some band merch from your favorite artist. Old Glory has tons of great stuff, and if you use our discount code, lovethatsong, you’ll save 15% and you’ll be supporting this show. That’s oldglory.com,  Discount code is lovethatsong– get some cool merch, save some money, and support the show. Thanks.

On behalf of Pantheon Podcasts, where fans belong, I thank everyone for listening. Now it’s time for you to rediscover some of the great Curtis Mayfield records. So go listen, and I’ll meet you back here next time.

Dive into the world of Blue Oyster Cult with our latest episode, where we explore their fan-favorite track, “Transmaniacon MC” from their debut album. Discover the band’s history, the creative minds behind their lyrics, and the unique sound that defined them as the “Thinking Man’s Heavy Metal Band.” Curious about the story behind their enigmatic lyrics? Tune in now.

“Transmaniacon MC” – Sandy Pearlman, Albert Bouchard, Donald Roeser, Eric Bloom Copyright 1972 Sony/ATV Tunes, LLC

TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome back, all you veterans of the Psychic Wars, this is the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast and I’m your host, Brad Page. Thanks for joining me here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, where each episode, I pick a song from my extensive library of favorites and we listen to it together, listening for all the little moments, those special touches that make it a great song. No musical knowledge or experience is ever required here. This is a show for everybody– all you need is a love for music and you’ll be right at home here.

On this edition of the podcast, we’re gonna climb into our hard-rockin’ Wayback Machine and set the dial for 1972, and explore a track from the debut album of the band that was known as the “Thinking Man’s Heavy Metal Band.” This is Blue Oyster Cult with “Transmaniacon MC.”

This is our second time visiting Blue Oyster Cult; we covered their classic track “Don’t Fear the Reaper” on one of our Halloween episodes a while back, I believe that was episode number 90. It’s one of my favorite episodes of the podcast, actually, so if you haven’t heard that one, go back and listen to it. It’s a good one.

The band that would become Blue Oyster Cult came together in New York in the late 60’s. Albert Bouchard was a multi-instrumentalist, but it was as a drummer that he first hooked up with a guitarist named Donald Roeser. They formed a band called Soft White Underbelly. Soon after, Alan Lanier joined them on Keyboards, and they also made two other key connections, Sandy Perlman and Richard Meltzer. Meltzer was a music critic and a writer who would write lyrics and poems that would become some of the classic Blue Oyster Cult songs. Perlman also wrote a ton of lyrics for the band, and he would also become their manager and record producer.

Along with Meltzer and Perlman, other literary figures would contribute lyrics, including Michael Moorcock and the great Patti Smith. It’s the contribution of these writers that earned Blue Oyster Cult the reputation as the “Thinking Man’s Metal Band”. Of course, at this point, they weren’t quite Blue Oyster Cult just yet.

Still working under the name Soft White Underbelly, with bassist Andy Winters and a lead vocalist named Les Bronstein, they recorded an album for Elektra Records. But that album was never released. Eventually, Eric Bloom was brought in to replace Bronstein on vocals and guitar. And the final piece of the puzzle came into place when Albert’s brother Joe Bouchard replaced Winters on bass.

A few more band name changes happened too. They were the Stock Forest Group for a while, and the Santos Sisters… and another recording session took place again for Elektra Records, but that also failed to be released. This was a band that was at a dead end.

Up until this time, their sound was more of a jammy, psychedelic, San Francisco, almost Grateful Dead kind of thing. But by 1971, change was necessary.

Murray Krugman was a project manager and an A & R guy at Columbia Records. Capitol Records was having success with Grand Funk Railroad, and Black Sabbath was making a lot of waves over at Warner Bros. And Columbia, well, they wanted a piece of that action. They were looking for a band that would be Columbia’s answer to Black Sabbath.

Murray Krugman told the band, if they could work up some new material that was dark and mysterious and heavy, then he could get them a record deal at Columbia. So, along with another name change– Perlman was the one who came up with the name Blue Oyster Cult– they retooled their sound into a harder rock sound. Really, it’s not nearly as heavy as Black Sabbath, but it rocked hard enough. And with their enigmatic foreboding lyrics, Columbia Records signed them up.

The first Blue Oyster Cult album, simply titled “Blue Oyster Cult”, was released in January 1972. It was produced by Sandy Pearlman, Murray Krugman and David Lucas.

“Transmaniacon MC” would be the first sound the world would ever hear from Blue Oyster Cult. It’s the song that opens the the album: Side one, track one. It features Donald Roeser on lead guitar; Perlman would give Roser the nickname “Buck Dharma”, and that nickname has stuck right up till today. Alan Lanier is on keyboards, Albert Bouchard on drums, Joe Bouchard on bass, and Eric Bloom on rhythm guitar and lead vocal. The song was written by Eric Bloom, Albert Bouchard, Donald Roser and Sandy Perlman.

The lyrics are pretty much all Perlman. It’s one of his sci fi conspiracy epics. He loved that kind of thing. He envisioned a story where the disastrous Rolling Stones concert in Altamont, California in 1969 was masterminded by a secretive evil motorcycle club called the “Transmaniacon MC”.  MC stood for Motorcycle club. In Perlman’s story, the Transmaniacon MC were behind the violence and murder at that show. And this song was supposed to be their theme song. It was their club song, the song that they would sing before they rode off to create more chaos and terror.

Like all great hard rock songs, the track kicks off with a great guitar riff. Let’s hear the guitar and the bass.

Notice on the second half of the riff that the bass doubles the guitar part. After playing that riff twice, they launch into the verse riff.

Let’s go back to the top and play it through.

Here’s where Eric Bloom comes in with the first verse. His voice is kind of punky here. As time went on, he developed a lot as a vocalist, but here he still got some of that garage-rock edge.

You can hear the reference to Altamont there as Sandy. Pearlman’s lyrics paint the picture of this fictional motorcycle gang out for violence. Remember that this track was released in January ’72, recorded sometime in 1971; the Altamont concert was in December of ‘69. So the memory of this tragedy was still fresh when the song was written and recorded.

They return to that chromatic riff and then begin the second verse. Let’s listen to what Alan Lanier is doing on the keyboards here underneath this verse. It’s mixed fairly low in the final mix, but he’s got both an organ part and a piano part going on here. So let’s hear some of that.

Okay, now let’s go back and hear that in context of the full second verse.

I want to go back and listen to what the Bouchard brothers, Joe on bass and Albert on drums, are playing during the chorus.

After the chorus, they return to the riff. And then there’s a guitar break courtesy of Buck Dharma.

Nice little bass guitar fill there from Joe Bouchard. Let’s pick it up. Leading into the third verse.

Here, they’re going to pull back, bring the dynamics down before the big conclusion.

Let’s go back and listen to Alan Lanier’s piano part in the right channel.

And now let’s back it up and hear that again in the mix.

And they return to the intro riff.

What’s Eric Bloom saying? There’s well, I can isolate it for you, but I’m not sure it’s gonna make much more sense. Something about a “wheelie”, I guess. Let’s play it through to the end.

Blue Oyster Cult – “Transmaniacon MC”

This was the first of a long run of Blue Oyster Cult albums, and of course they evolved over the years. For some fans, those first three albums are considered their best. Of those three, my personal favorite is the third album, “Secret Treaties”. But I also like a lot of their mid-period stuff and it’s hard to deny how great the “Agents of Fortune” album is; that’s one of my favorites.

Alan Lanier passed away in 2013, but at the time of this recording, the other original members are still with us, and there’s a version of Blue Oyster Cult that’s still out on the road today.

Thanks for hanging in there with me for this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. New episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll meet you back here soon. You can catch up on all the previous episodes of this show on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com, or listen to them on your favorite podcast app. We’re on Spotify, Apple, Google, Amazon, PocketCast, iHeartRadio… ou can listen to us everywhere fine podcasts can be found.  And while you’re there, please leave us a nice review.

If you’d like to support this show, please spread the word about it and share it with your friends and family, because recommendations from listeners like you are the number one way podcasts like this grow.

You can also support this show by buying a T shirt or some band merch from oldglory.com. They carry official band merch from all your favorite artists, and if you use our discount code lovethatsong, you’re going to save 15% and you’ll be helping to support this podcast. That’s oldglory.com with the discount code LoveThatSong. Thanks.

 Once again. I am Brad Page, and this is the Pantheon Podcast Network where fans belong. Now go explore that great catalog of Blue Oyster Cult, and join us again next time here on the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast.

Join us as we kick off 2026 with a celebration of one of America’s most electrifying party bands, The J. Geils Band! This episode dives deep into the infectious “(Ain’t Nothin’ But A) House Party,” a party anthem that perfectly encapsulates the essence of a good time. We explore the band’s origins, looking at how the J. Geils Band blended classic R&B with Rock, creating a legacy that resonates through their catalog. We’ll reflect on the band’s rise to fame, and the bittersweet nature of their journey, culminating in their eventual split after achieving commercial success. Whether you’re a lifelong fan or new to the band, this episode is a perfect way to celebrate the spirit of the J. Geils Band and the joy of their music.

“(Ain’t Nothin’ But A) House Party” – Dal Sharh & Joseph Thomas Copyright 1967 Clairlyn – Dandelion Music BMI

TRANSCRIPT:

Whether you’re doing the Southside Shuffle or the Detroit Breakdown, you’ve danced your way right into the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I’m your host, Brad Page, and right here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, each episode of this show I pick one of my favorite songs and we look at it from top to bottom, right to left and inside out, as we try to get a better understanding of what makes a great song work. No musical expertise required here– all you gotta do is listen.

This is our first episode of 2026, so what better way to ring in the new year than with a party? A house party to be exact. And what better way to do that than with America’s all-time greatest party band, the legendary J. Geils Band with “(Ain’t Nothin’ But A) House Party.”

John Warren Geils Jr. Was born in New York City in February 1946. He grew up in New Jersey and eventually landed at the Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Worcester, Massachusetts, studying mechanical engineering. But he was already playing plenty of guitar by then. He played trumpet as a kid, but eventually switched to guitar, inspired by the Butterfield Blues Band, Muddy Waters and Buddy Guy. In Worcester, he met Danny Klein, a bass player, and a harmonica player named Richard Salwitz, who became better known as “Magic Dick”. They dropped out of college in 1967 and moved to Boston.

Another New York transplant was Peter Wolf. Peter Walter Blankfield was born in New York in March of 1946, attended the High School of Music and Art, and then moved to Boston to attend the School of the Museum of Fine arts. In 1964, he founded a band called The Hallucinations, which included Stephen Jo Bladd on drums. Wolf also had a gig on a local FM radio station, WBCN; If you grew up around Boston, or anywhere in New England, you know those call letters. Well, that’s where Wolf worked the all-night shift as a DJ, where he called himself “Woofa Goofa”.

Eventually, Wolf and Bladd joined with Geils, Klein and Magic Dick. And then, when keyboardist Seth Justman joined the band, that was the final piece to fall into place, and the new J. Geils Band became one of the hottest tickets in town. They signed with Atlantic Records in 1970 and released their first album, self-titled, that same year.

That album was followed by “The Morning After” in 1971. That record includes their version of “Looking For A Love”, which was originally recorded by The Valentines featuring Bobby Womack.

This was the magic of the J. Geils Band: They played classic R&B, but with a rockin’ edge that made these songs their own. Many kids growing up in this era didn’t even know that these were covers; their first exposure to these songs was from the J. Geils versions. They opened a lot of doors and a lot of ears.

This was also a bit of a problem though, because by the mid-70s, radio– which was still the number one way fans discovered new music– radio was becoming tightly formatted, and the J Geils Band was sometimes considered “too white for the black kids” and “too black for the white kids”. So stupid, but that’s how radio could be.

In 1972, they released their first live album, a killer single disc live record called “Live – Full House” that, though it only peaked at number 54 on the charts, it is one of the greatest live records of all time. The band is on fire here, tearing through a brilliant set of some of their best tunes, including Magic Dick’s harmonica horkout, “Whamma Jamma” and a smoking version of “First I Look At The Purse”.

Then in 1973, they released their third studio album, “Bloodshot”, which includes a number of J. Geils classics, including “Give It To Me”. It was their first single to crack the top 20, and it made “Bloodshot” their breakthrough album.

“Bloodshot” also included a little song called “Ain’t Nothing But A) House Party”. And that’s the track we’re gonna be looking at today.  It’s the song that opens the album– side one, track one. And it really gets things started.

The song was written by Del Shah and Joseph Thomas, and originally released as a single by The showstoppers in 1969. Here’s a little bit of that version.

The J. Geils version begins with J. Geils’ guitar part, doubled and panned hard left and right. A cow bell also joins in in the right channel.

The band joins in with Stephen Jo Bladd on drums, Danny Klein on bass and Seth Justman on the organ. And you can hear Seth Justman has added a piano part in the right channel. Peter Wolf comes in with the lead vocals for the first verse. And you can hear Magic Dick playing a simple, sparse harmonica part in the left channel.

Stepen Jo Bladd plays the first part of the verse with a beat on the tom toms. Let’s listen to that, along with Danny Klein’s bass.

For the next part of the verse, he shifts to the snare and hi-hat.

As they hit the chorus, Magic Dick is blowing long sustained notes on his harp in the right channel.

Let’s bring up Peter Wolf’s vocals for the second verse.

I believe it’s Seth Justman joining him on vocals here.

And now it’s time for Magic Dick to really play that harp. And he’s good. His harmonica sound and style was a big part of the J Geils’ sound, a critical element.

Seth Justman is doubling the harmonica part on the organ.

Now it’s J Geils turn. Big guitar solos weren’t really a huge part of the J Geils Band. You kinda get the feeling that Geils himself was pretty content to just lay back and be part of the band. But he would step up front and take a solo now and then.

Before we move on, let’s go back and listen to what the bass and the drums were doing, because this is a pretty great groove here.

And that brings us to a shortened third verse.

And now there’s a little bit of a breakdown here, It’s a classic move.  Primarily bass and drums, with Seth Justman adding some low notes on the piano.

And of course you gotta have a cowbell in there.

Sounds to me like they’ve added some conga drums in there.

They are really building up the energy to a frenetic level here.

That is a really great scream from Peter Wolf there. Let’s see where we can bring that up in the mix.

The J. Geils Band – “(Ain’t Nothin’ But A) House Party

The J. Geils Band would continue to make some great records; “Nightmares…”, “Hotline”, “Sanctuary” and “Love Stinks” are particular favorites of mine. And then, in 1981, they released “Freeze Frame”, and that album was a smash.

Finally, with their tenth studio album, they had their first number one album. They finally reached the top… and then they split up. Peter Wolf was gone and the band limped on with one more album, and then they were gone.

This is one of those things that always baffles me– how a band can slog it out, year after year, through all the hard times, and then as soon as they make it, they fall apart. Whether it’s egos or whatever, you would think that it’s in everyone’s best interest to hold it together for at least another couple of years, or records. But nope. All that hard work, years of logging the miles, and as soon as they make it to the top, they self-destruct.

But the J. Geils Band gave us a dozen albums; many of them are quite good, and a few are true classics. That will have to be enough.

J. Geils passed away in 2017. He was 71 at the time he died. He was living in Groton, Massachusetts… that’s the town that I went to high school in.

The rest of the members of the band are still with us today. Peter Wolf has put out some really good solo records, and last year, he released his autobiography, which is a good read. I recommend it.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of the podcast. We’ll be back in two weeks with another new episode. ‘Till then, you can get caught up with all of our previous episodes on our website lovethatsongpodcast.com or just find the show on your favorite podcast app.

If you’d like to support the show, the best thing you can do is to just tell a friend about the show. Share this podcast with your friends and family, because that helps us to grow the audience.

You can also support the show by going to oldglory.com and buying some band merch, like, a cool T-shirt. They have a ton of great stuff there, and if you use our discount code LoveThatSong, you’ll save 15% while you’re helping to support this podcast. So please, that’s oldglory.com with the discount code LoveThatSong. Take advantage of it. Thanks.

That’ll wrap up this episode. On behalf of everyone here on the Pantheon Podcast Network– where fans belong– I thank you for listening. Now, go dig out all your old J. Geils albums and crank ‘em up, starting with “(Ain’t Nothing But A) House Party”.

RESOURCES:

J. Geils Band
Official Website

Peter Wolf
Official Website

The Butterfield Blues Band
Wikipedia

Muddy Waters
Wikipedia

Buddy Guy
Official Website

The Showstoppers
Wikipedia

Seth Justman
Wikipedia

Magic Dick
Wikipedia

Bloodshot (Album)
Wikipedia