Song Analysis - The "I'm In Love With That Song" Podcast - Music Commentary, Song Analysis & Rock History

What happens when two R&B veterans team up with a psychedelic band for a one-off single? It’s either one of the weirdest songs of the ’60’s or a forgotten classic, depending on your take on these things. For me, I’m firmly in the “lost treasure” camp. This original mash-up by Larry Williams & Johnny “Guitar” Watson, with The Kaleidoscope backing them up, is a relic from a time when anything seemed possible.

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TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome back 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. Each episode, I pick one of my favorite songs and we explore it together, trying to get at the heart of what makes a great song. We don’t get into music theory here, so you don’t have to be an expert. This show is open to anyone interested in just listening.

On this edition of the podcast, we are listening to a song by an offbeat duo, but it’s really the result of an unlikely combination with a third force that makes this song such an anomaly. The song is called “Nobody”. It’s by Larry Williams and Johnny Watson, with The Kaleidoscope.

Larry Williams was born in New Orleans in May 1935. He moved around, living in Chicago for a while, then Oakland, California, but eventually returned to New Orleans where he connected with Little Richard and got signed to Specialty records. Little Richard was the biggest star on the specialty label, but when he quit the music business in 1957 to join the church, specialty needed another big act. And that was Larry Williams’ opportunity. Larry’s first hit was his biggest, “Short Fat Fanny” reached number five on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1957.

You can definitely hear the Little Richard influence there. He followed that up with a song called “Bony Maroney”.

But Larry Williams is probably most remembered today for his next single, which had “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” on the A side.

And “Slow Down” as the B side.

Both of those tracks would be recorded by The Beatles. In fact, The Beatles would cover a third Larry Williams track, “Bad Boy”, making Larry Williams one of the very few artists that The Beatles covered multiple times.

John Watson, Jr. was also born in 1935. He came from Houston, Texas, but moved to LA with his mother when he was 15. He gained a rep as a hotshot guitarist and a flamboyant showman, and earned the nickname Johnny “Guitar” Watson. He played without a pick, using his fingers to produce a snapping, stinging attack that Frank Zappa would describe as “an ice pick to the forehead” tone. And he meant that as a compliment.

In 1954, Johnny Guitar Watson released a single, the instrumental called “Space Guitar”, that pretty perfectly illustrates his tone, and features reverb and feedback in a way that was really years ahead of its time.

In 1957, he released “Gangster of Love”, which wasn’t a big hit at the time, but would eventually become his most popular song and would earn him another nickname as “Johnny Guitar Watson, The Gangster Of Love”.

Steve Miller would later nick that line for his song “The Joker”.

As the 50’s gave way to the 60’s, Johnny focused more on doing session work and being a sideman. He hooked up with Larry Williams and they worked together for quite a few years. Though they never had any big hits, they were a very popular live act, especially with black audiences. The duo released one album in 1967 called “Two For The Price Of One”. Johnny was as good a piano player as a guitarist, and this album features as much of his piano as his guitar. But it’s got some great overlooked R&B moments.

At the end of 1967, they released a brand new single, a song called “Nobody”. For this track, they brought in a new band to back them up, a psychedelic group of all white musicians from La called The Kaleidoscope.

Kaleidoscope was founded in 1966 and featured David Lindley. David would go on to become an in-demand session musician and a hired gun, as well as a solo artist. He was an incredibly talented and versatile musician on virtually any stringed instrument you can think of. David Lindley has played on tons, tons of albums, but he is mostly famous for one guitar solo– the solo he played using a lap steel guitar on Jackson Brown’s “Running On Empty”.

But back in 1967, Lindley was playing in this psychedelic band, Kaleidoscope. They released their first album, “Side Trips”, in June 1967, the Summer of Love. Here’s a song from that album called “Pulsating Dream”.

So somehow, Larry Williams and Johnny Watson, two lifelong R&B performers, decided to bring in this psychedelic band, Kaleidoscope, to back them on this one song.

“Nobody” was written by Dick Cooper and Ernie Shelby. It was produced by Larry Williams and Johnny Watson, and released in December 1967.

All the members of Kaleidoscope were multi-instrumentalists and often played traditional instruments. Not the kind of stuff you hear on most rock songs, and not my area of expertise. Sounds to me like there’s one part played on maybe an Oud, which is a fretless, stringed instrument from the Middle east. There might be a sitar in there, an acoustic slide guitar… I don’t know. Like I said, I’m no expert, but this is definitely not your typical Motown or Stax track.

Let’s listen to just their vocal track.

Now, they’re gonna do a classic R&B-style break here, but the oddball instrumentation puts such a great and fresh spin on this.

“The way we look and the way we dress may make some people frown, they just don’t understand our bag, that’s why they put us down”. You can tell this was written in 1967, and I love it. I also love this little vocal part here, too.

Let’s pick it back up right before that part.

And that gets us to a short little instrumental section where Kaleidoscope gets to do their instruments here. I don’t know who’s playing what, if that’s David Lindley playing the main part or not, but let’s listen.

And that brings us into another chorus.

Let’s back it up a little bit. We’ll take out the vocals and listen to just the instrumentation and the percussion.

I love these parts. Let’s go back and listen to just the vocals.

And here’s the instrumental part underneath that.

And check out this totally psychedelic ending.

“Nobody” by Larry Williams and Johnny Watson, with The Kaleidoscope.

This song would be recorded and released as a single a year later by Three Dog Night in November 1968. But their version is more conservative, without the exotic instrumentation and the psychedelic sounds. I much prefer this version.

Larry Williams lived a hard life. Drugs and violence were a consistent part of his life. He spent time in prison. On January 1980, he was found dead in his home, a bullet in his head. His death was ruled a suicide, but some suspected he’d been murdered. He was only 44.

As I mentioned before, Frank Zappa was a big fan of Johnny “Guitar” Watson, and Zappa invited Johnny to play on four of his albums. In the 1970’s, Johnny reinvented himself as a funk and disco artist. He re-recorded the song “Gangster of Love” in 1978, and it finally became a hit.

After Larry Williams death, Johnny kind of retreated from the public for a while. Though he would still perform overseas, he staged another comeback in 1994 with his album “Bow Wow”. A tour of Japan was planned for 1996 starting on May 12^th; on May 17, Johnny and his band took to the stage in Yokohama. As he began the second verse of “Superman Lover”, he grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. He died that night of a heart attack, age 61.

Kaleidoscope would go on to release four albums between 1967 and 1970, along with two reunion albums, one in ‘76 and one in 1991. David Lindley, of course, went on to much greater success as a sideman and with his own band, El Rayo X.

Four of the original five members of Kaleidoscope have passed away now, including David Lindley, who died last year, March 3, 2023. He was 78.

Thanks for joining me on this episode. I hope you like this one. As always, there are more coming. Another edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast will be here in just about two weeks. And of course, if you’d like to catch up on all of our previous episodes, you’ll find them on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. Or look for us in your favorite podcast app.

If you’d like to support the show, write a positive review, those algorithms really love those positive reviews. But even better is if you tell a friend about the show, because your recommendations really do carry a lot of weight.

I’ll meet you back here soon on the Pantheon Podcast Network. Until then, stay groovy like Larry Williams and Johnny Watson with the Kaleidoscope on “Nobody”.

REFERENCES:

Larry Williams
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Williams

Johnny Watson
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_%22Guitar%22_Watson

The Kaleidoscope (band)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaleidoscope_(American_band)

Specialty Records
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Specialty_Records

The Beatles
https://www.thebeatles.com/

Frank Zappa
https://www.zappa.com/

David Lindley
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Lindley_(musician)

Jackson Browne
https://www.jacksonbrowne.com/

Steve Miller Band
https://www.stevemillerband.com/

Pantheon Podcast Network
https://pantheonpodcasts.com/

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Pink Floyd has been a cornerstone of rock history, producing some of the most iconic albums ever recorded. One song that stands out in their catalog is “Have a Cigar” from the album Wish You Were Here, a track that offers a scathing critique of the music industry. In the latest episode of the podcast, we dive deep into this song, uncovering what makes “Have a Cigar” a classic.

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

TRANSCRIPTS:

Come on, you ravers, you seers of visions– shine on with the “I’m In Love With That Song” Podcast. I’m your host, Brad Page, and every two weeks, we come together here on the Pantheon Podcast Network to explore a different song. Each episode, I pick one of my favorite songs and we dig into it together, uncovering all the elements that go into making a great song. You don’t have to be a musician or have any technical knowledge– this isn’t a show for just the experts, this is for anyone who just wants to listen and explore what makes a good song great.

In this episode, we’re exploring a real classic. By any measure– artistically, commercially– Pink Floyd were one of the most successful bands of all time. They created a handful of the greatest albums ever released. On this episode of the podcast, we’re exploring a song from an album that came out just about in the middle of their career, an album that represents many things for this band, and the stories of making it are the stuff of legend. From the album “Wish You Were Here”. This is a song called “Have A Cigar”.

Pink Floyd have been covered on this show before: In episode 58, we looked at “Us And Them”, and episode 114 featured “See Emily Play”. If you haven’t heard either of those episodes, go check them out. I’m not going to go over their history again, you can revisit those previous episodes if you’d like. We’re going to pick up where we left off after “Dark Side Of The Moon”.

“Dark Side Of The Moon”, of course, was their breakthrough album. I don’t need to tell you how big that album would become, but it was an important, significant record from the moment it was released. So, for Pink Floyd, the challenge was: what to do next?

The band was searching for a direction. First weeks, then months, went by with not much to show for it. Endless sessions in their rehearsal studio, trying to come up with something. Something not just good, but something to match or top “Dark Side Of The Moon”. That’s no easy task.

Compounding the problem was the fact that fractures were beginning to occur within the band. The pressure of what to do next exacerbated the disagreements between the four band members. Initially, they returned to a concept that they first explored back in 1970. It was a project called “Household Objects”, where they would forego the use of their traditional instruments and create songs using rubber bands, broomsticks, wine glasses, aerosol cans, smashed Light bulbs. They had abandoned that idea before, but now, without any better ideas, they returned to “Household Objects” and spent at least a month in 1973 trying to conjure music from kitchen appliances and hand tools. But ultimately, they abandoned the idea again.

To my knowledge, the only thing that survived from the “Household Objects” project is a two-minute recording of tuned wine glasses, and a three-minute track called “The Hard Way”. The sound of those wine glasses would be used at the beginning of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”, but the rest of it all went by the wayside.

Finally, in January 1974, during one of those endless jam sessions, guitarist David Gilmour stumbled across a four-note phrase. Almost by accident, they took that idea and expanded it, pushing it in different directions and adding new elements, eventually forming it into a song called “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”, a multi-part suite that would open and close their new album. They would also take the sound of those wine glasses and incorporate a little bit of that into “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”.

The subject of that song, as all Pink Floyd fans know, was their former singer, guitarist and bandleader Syd Barrett. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” is a fascinating piece of music worthy of an exploration all on its own. But not in this episode… we’re here for a different song.

So now Roger Waters, the bassist and primary lyricist, had some themes to work with: absence and the harsh realities of the music business, both of which directly related to Syd Barrett, but also extended beyond him.

The actual recording sessions for the album, which would be called “Wish You Were Here”, began at Abbey Road in January 1975, a year after they first came up with that riff that inspired the album. One of the tracks they worked on was a darkly funky track called “Have A Cigar”, a ripping takedown of the music industry, sung from the perspective of a typically greedy, self-serving record executive. It was written by Roger Waters, produced by the band, and performed by David Gilmour on guitars, Richard Wright on keyboards, bass by Roger Waters, drums by Nick Mason and vocals… well, we’ll get there in a minute.

The song begins with a riff played together on the bass and the guitar. Sounds like both the guitars and the bass have a flanger effect on them.

After a couple of playthroughs of the riff, the drums and the keyboards come in. There’s a little whoop sound in there. Let’s back it up a bit.

I like that descending guitar part that leads back into the riff. Here comes the second riff.

There are two synthesizer parts plus an electric piano, each one placed in a different spot in the stereo mix that allows each part to occupy its own space. When you add in the bass, drums and guitars– and I’m sure there’s more than one guitar track here– there’s a lot of music here, but the mix doesn’t feel cluttered at all.

That’s the first of these little guitar and keyboard fills that play off of each other, answer each other. It’s nothing fancy, but I just like the dialogue between the guitar and the piano throughout the song. Let’s pick it back up from there.

And it sounds to me like Richard Wright has also added a clavinet part now.

And here’s the first verse. But that voice doesn’t belong to anyone in Pink Floyd. When it came time to record the vocals for this track, both David Gilmour and Roger Waters took a stab at it, but neither of them were happy with their performance. Just by happenstance, a singer songwriter guitarist named Roy Harper was recording his own album next door. Roy Harper is a fairly obscure figure, certainly in the United States, he’s never had any hits here and never got much radio play. If Americans know his name at all, it’s likely from the song title of the Led Zeppelin song “Hats Off To Roy Harper”. But Roy Harper is a brilliant British folk-rock songwriter and performer who has released a number of unique, and you could say eccentric, albums. He’s a musician’s musician, a songwriter’s songwriter. And he was friendly with the guys in Pink Floyd. Since they were both working on albums at Abbey Road, they would pop in to visit each other’s sessions. He watched Pink Floyd wrestle with the vocals on this track for days and eventually, he offered to sing it for them.

Here’s a little bit of the version with Roger Waters attempt at the vocal. It’s really not that drastically different, but Roy Harper brought a wonderfully acerbic tone to the track. Roy had his share of misfortune at the hands of record companies, so he could relate to these lyrics for sure.

That’s one of the best lines in the whole Pink Floyd canon. The idea that this record company bigwig who’s trying to schmooze them doesn’t even know that there’s no one in the band actually named Pink Floyd.

I love the way he elongates the word “train” and twists his phrasing at the end.

Sounds like he’s double tracked his vocal there too.

Here comes the second verse. You know, I’ve listened to this song so many times, but I never really noticed until now just how much work the keyboards are doing here. I’m even hearing a little bit of Stevie Wonder influence in there.

Let’s bring up the vocals again. Roy Harper is just killing it here.

So that brings us to the guitar solo. It’s another classic solo by David Gilmour. And we’ll listen to that in a minute. But first I wanted to focus on the rhythm section for a bit. I think it’s fair to say that neither Nick Mason or Roger Waters are virtuosos. Nick Mason is not a flashy drummer, but he’s rock solid. And neither he or Roger Waters are exactly funky players, but they’re laying down a pretty cool groove here. So let’s just listen to that for a while.

Alright, now let’s go back and listen again with the guitar solo.

Let’s bring up that guitar.

And now, we get a change of audio perspectives, as a synthesized “whoosh” repositions us, as though were listening to the song now through an old transistor radio.

And that, of course for everyone who’s familiar with the album, leads us into the next song, “Wish You Were Here”. But that’s another story.

“Have A Cigar” by Pink Floyd. The “Wish You Were Here” album was released in September 1975 and topped the charts in the US and the UK. It is still regarded as one of Pink Floyd’s best albums. In fact, I believe it is David Gilmour’s favorite Pink Floyd album.

But it was the beginning of the end of the band. Roger Waters had taken over creative control and over time, would push the other members further away. Richard Wright was essentially fired from the band and then rehired as a session player for the group. Eventually, Roger Waters pushed himself out of the band.

But despite the personal unpleasantness, “Wish You Were Here” is a really cohesive album. Every band member contributes excellent performances, and the album flows perfectly as a whole. It’s a masterpiece.

Richard Wright died from lung cancer in September 2008. He was 65. Roger Waters, David Gilmour, Nick Mason, and Roy Harper are still with us today at the time of this recording.

Thanks for being a part of this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” Podcast. If you’d like to support the show, why don’t you head over to oldglory.com and buy a t-shirt or two? They have a bunch of Pink Floyd shirts in stock, along with a ton of other bands, and if you use our promo code, “LoveThatSong”, you’ll get 15% off and you’ll be supporting the show. So thanks in advance.

You can find our previous episodes on Pink Floyd, along with over 150 other songs that we’ve covered, on our website lovethatsongpodcast.com, or just look for them in your favorite podcast app. Send us an email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com or post your comments and feedback on our Facebook page. And of course, it would be great if you left us a rating or a review wherever it is that you listen to this show.

We are part of the Pantheon family of podcasts, home to a ton of other great podcasts, all featuring the music we love.

I will be back in about two weeks, so let’s meet here again. Until then, thanks for listening to this episode on Pink Floyd and “Have A Cigar”.

RESOURCES:

Pink Floyd
https://www.pinkfloyd.com

Wish You Were Here
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wish_You_Were_Here_(Pink_Floyd_album)

Dark Side of the Moon
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dark_Side_of_the_Moon

Roy Harper
https://royharper.co.uk

Abbey Road Studios
https://www.abbeyroad.com

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For one hot moment, Broken Homes were the buzzed-about new band in LA, and big success was ahead. It never materialized. The band cut 3 albums for MCA, but they went nowhere. On this episode, we dig into a track from their first album, one of my favorite LP’s from the ’80’s and a real “desert island” record for me. The album never came out on CD, but if you can track down a copy on vinyl, I highly recommend it.

TRANSCRIPT:

The human ear is a pretty remarkable device. You can detect variations of less than 1,000,000,000th of atmospheric pressure. It can detect vibrations of your eardrum that move less than the width of one atom. Pretty incredible when you think about it. Welcome to the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast, where we put these amazing ears of ours to good use as we explore what goes into making a great song. You don’t need a lot of musical experience or knowledge here. You just need to use those extraordinary ears and see what we discover. I’m your host, Brad Page. We are part of the Pantheon family of podcasts, and today we’re listening to “An LA Rain” by Broken Homes.

Usually on this show, we have a lot of history to set up before we get into the song. You know, with artists that have been around for years, you have to put these songs in context. We did a Fleetwood Mac episode earlier this year that took 20 minutes of setup before we even got to the song. But on this episode, we’re talking about a band with not a lot of history to go on. In fact, there isn’t even a Wikipedia page for these guys.

Broken Homes were formed in the mid-eighties by singer Mike Doman and guitarist Craig Ross. The band got together in LA, but Mike Doman had come from the east coast–Pennsylvania, I believe– and he brought a rootsy, working class, kind of East Coast Rock and Roll sound with him. It’s very different from the hair metal bands that were big in LA in the middle of the eighties.

They recruited a drummer named Craig Aronson and started working out material. A bass player named James Ashurst was finishing up a gig one night with another band when they asked him to join the Broken Homes. They had a big gig lined up at the Roxy coming up pretty soon. They played that gig on a Friday night, and by Monday morning, they were signing a record contract with MCA Records.

Broken Homes didn’t fit in with the Sunset Strip sound at that time. Their sound was closer to bands like X or Lone Justice: straight-ahead traditional rock and roll, with a little bit of country and punk thrown in. But they became one of the hottest bands on the LA scene at the time. In 1986, they went into Ocean Way Studios, one of the greatest studios in LA and used to be known as United Western, and they recorded their first album with producer Jeff Eyrich.

The song we’re listening to here is called “An LA Rain”. It’s track number two on the album. It was written by Mike Doman. Mike is on lead vocals and probably a little guitar. Craig Ross does most of the guitar work. Jimmy Ashurst is on bass and Don Harvey is on drums. Producer Jeff Eyrich wasn’t convinced that their drummer, Craig Aronson, was up to the challenge of making this record. So, he brought in a drummer named Don Harvey, who had been playing with Charlie Sexton at the time. This had to be handled sensitively. They didn’t want to mess with the image of this being a tight knit, hard workin’ rock and roll band. I mean, all four band members names, including Craig Aronson, are, right there on the front cover of the album, even though Aronson didn’t actually play drums on the record. But if you look closely on the back cover in small print, it says “special thanks to Don Harvey, Drums”.

The song opens with what sounds to me like three guitar parts. One acoustic guitar in the center, possibly with a capo on it to raise the pitch. An electric guitar that’s panned left. Both of those are strumming chords. And another electric guitar on the right that’s playing a nice little part. Could be some chorus effect on that. Another thing to note is that most, if not all of the guitars are played in open G tuning. That’s a big part of what gives this track that blues based Americana by way of the rolling stones kind of rock and roll sound.

Now this intro will take us right into the first verse, and it’s an abrupt change. The bass, drums and vocals are all come in. The acoustic guitars are dropped, leaving one electric guitar now moved to the center. Let’s pick it back up from the top.

The bass and drums are providing a rock solid foundation here. Jimmy Ashurst’s bass is laying down a simple part that just fits perfectly. And Don Harvey’s drums are locked right into that groove. It’s a great drum sound. Probably starts with the natural room sound at Oceanway Studios, where this album was recorded, with some additional reverb added to make it sound even bigger.

Now, the story that Mike Doman is telling us here is that he’s driving down the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible in the pouring rain, with the top down. Somehow he’s asleep at the wheel– his girl wakes him up just in tim,e as he sings “To ride a wall of water down the PCH”, and with that, we’ll ride right along with him into the chorus.

Once we hit that chorus, the sound opens up. That single electric guitar is now augmented by at least three additional guitars, left, right and center. One of the guitars is playing in a higher register, probably using that capo. It’s almost a mandolin like sound. None of the parts are particularly complex. Some of the guitars are just strumming and holding a single chord, but each one is playing in a different register, occupying its own frequency range. And each part is placed carefully in the mix, so that nothing is stepping on each other. Let’s listen to just those instrumental tracks.

When you take that and add some harmony vocals, it just makes this chorus bloom. Let’s go back and listen to this again. Listen to how when we hit this chorus, the sound just opens up. It’s like the audio equivalent of switching to widescreen. If you can listen on headphones, all the better. But you should be able to hear it bloom listening in your car or wherever it is that you’re hearing this now. This is the kind of production technique that I absolutely love.

This brings us to the second verse. And what I kind of like about this one is that, you know, usually with these songs, it’s a guy hitting on some girl, usually an underage girl. It’s always a little skeevy; but here, he’s flirting with a woman who’s a little older. Mike Doman was probably in his early twenties when he wrote this song. The woman he’s singing about has an ID that says she’s 24, but she’s really 31. But he’s into it.

Rewind and listen to the backing track here. I particularly like the Keith Richards influenced guitar that Craig Ross is laying down here.

It’s time for this second chorus. Let’s listen to just Mike Doman’s vocals first. I believe all of the parts are sung by Mike Doman.

Here’s that chorus again in the final mix. I love the drums on that part there, where they take a little pause with the tom fill and then hit hard on the second beat. Let’s play that chorus from the top again.

That transitions right into the bridge. The band pulls back a bit before it builds back up. Now, I think there might be a piano added to the mix here. Maybe an electric piano. It’s pretty low in the mix. Could be another guitar. Let’s listen to some of those instrumental tracks, see what you think.

Let’s hear all of the parts on the bridge. Now at the end, Mike is going to repeat the phrase “There was rainwater in my ears” multiple times. But each time, he sings it differently. And the more emphatically he sings it, the more it kind of makes you wonder how much he really means it. To paraphrase Shakespeare, “doth he protest too much?”

Listen to how they build the song back up. The bass and drums are doing the heavy lifting there. Let’s hear their part.

And that buildup takes us into another variation of the chorus.

Okay, first let’s go back and listen to Mike Doman’s vocals leading into the break here.

Now let’s listen to Craig Ross’s guitar part here. What he’s doing is taking his E string and detuning it. He’s not using a whammy bar, hs actually cranking his tuning peg down, turning it with his left hand while he plucks the string with his right. The string goes all the way slack. And then he cranks it back up to pitch and starts playing the riff again. Totally cool. Give it up for Craig Ross.

Let’s hear all of that together as it sounds in the final mix.

Now here comes a new part. Craig’s electric guitar is joined by an acoustic guitar. Strumming chords in the background with a very clean sounding electric guitar. Playing some simple lead lines. And listen to the drum fills here. Don Harvey is playing some simple fills, but they sound great. Just the right amount of reverb on them. This is a great drum sound.

Let’s bring up Mike’s vocals from the background there.

And there is a killer drum fill that leads us into this final chorus. So let’s check that out.

And now, as the song begins to fade out, you can hear that piano come forward a bit in the mix.

“An LA Rain” by Broken Homes.

The album was released in 1986 and big things were expected… but nothing happened. They just didn’t catch on. They toured hard as an opening act for some great bands, and certainly put in the work, but they just couldn’t seem to get any traction, and there was zero radio play.

But I love this record. Seriously. This is a Desert Island Album for me.

Broken Homes would record two more albums, a total of three albums that never went anywhere. And eventually they split up.

Who knows why some bands never take off. You could blame the record company, MCA. It’s a little tricky, I think, because MCA did stick with them for three albums, something that would never happen today—they’d be dropped after their first album. So I guess you got to give the label credit for that. But at the same time, I don’t think MCA knew how to market them. They just didn’t know what to do with this band.

Bass player Jimmy Ashurst said something very smart about this. Looking back on it years later, he said “Record companies still don’t know how to market for classic rock when it’s not yet ‘classic’, when it’s being made today; there’s no path for that.”

Jimmy Ashurst went on to play with Izzy Stradlin in the Juju Hounds and later was a member of Buckcherry. He also wrestled with heroin addiction and did some time in prison, but I believe he’s clean now.

Guitarist Craig Ross became the guitar player for Lenny Kravitz. He’s the guy with the big hair in all of those Lenny Kravitz videos, and he still works with Lenny today. Craig’s done quite well for himself.

Drummer Craig Aronson would leave the band after this first album. He was replaced by Michael Graves. Aronson would become an A&R man and was the guy who signed Jimmy Eats World and My Chemical Romance, just to name a few. Aronson died of cancer in 2014.

Michael Doman would kick around the music business for years, and would continue to be a great singer and songwriter. Unfortunately, Michael passed away in December of 2020.

I highly recommend the first two Broken Homes albums, especially this album, the debut album. It’s just called “Broken Homes”. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy to find. It never came out on CD. You can find it on YouTube, but you’ve got to work a little bit to find the right Broken Homes. But it is worth it.

Thanks for listening to this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. New episodes are released on the first and the 15th of every month, so well be back soon with another new show. Until then, you can catch up on all of our previous shows right on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. Or just search for us in your favorite podcast app: Spotify, Google, Apple, Stitcher, Amazon, you name it– you can find us on every podcast app.

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On behalf of everyone here on the Pantheon Podcast Network, I thank you for listening to our shows, and especially for listening to this episode on Broken Homes and “An LA Rain”.

RESOURCES:

Broken Homes
No direct link as there’s no Wikipedia page

Ocean Way Studios
https://www.oceanwaystudios.com/

Lenny Kravitz
http://www.lennykravitz.com/

Podchaser
https://www.podchaser.com/

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One of our greatest singer/songwriters, Matthew Sweet, suffered a stroke recently. He’s facing some tough times ahead, but this isn’t the first challenge he’s faced. Things were not going Matthew Sweet’s way in 1990; his first two albums flopped, and his marriage fell apart. His 3^rd album was make-or-break, do-or-die. If this one failed, he may never get to do another record. So he & his producer went back to basics, recording a batch of guitar-oriented songs that sound both retro and refreshingly new. The album that became known as Girlfriend saved his career and has become a true classic. On this episode, we explore the album’s brilliant opener, “Divine Intervention”. Let’s hope he rebounds as well this time.

Please donate to support Matthew’s recovery here:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-matthew-sweets-stroke-recovery?utm_campaign=pd_ss_icons&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&attribution_id=sl%3Ab8c56669-0388-4ae5-b3ac-5f0bb6d84d1f

PREVIEW:

TRANSCRIPT:

How are you? How have you been? Good to have you back with us on the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I’m Brad Page, coming to you on the Pantheon network of podcasts, with another exploration of one of my favorite songs. We keep the music theory and technical jargon to a minimum here, so whether you’re a musician, an avid listener, or just a fan of the song, everybody’s welcome here.

On this edition of the podcast, we’re delving into a song from one of the greatest albums of the 1990’s, and it still sounds as fresh today as the day it was recorded. It’s an indispensable part of my record collection. For many people, the album “Girlfriend” is Matthew Sweet’s masterpiece. Join me as we explore the song that opens this classic album, “Divine Intervention”.

Matthew Sweet was born in 1964 in Nebraska. He played in bands and was writing songs as a teenager, and when he graduated high school, he moved to Athens, Georgia for college, which also happened to be ground zero for the alternative rock scene of REM, the B-52’s, Pylon, all of those great bands. He hooked up with some local bands, and even did some gigs with Michael Stipe from REM. He spent some time playing bass for Lloyd Cole, too. He formed another duo with drummer David Pierc,e and under the name the Buzz of Delight, they released one EP which included a Christmas song that still pops up every now and then.

Columbia Records was impressed and signed him to a solo deal, and he released his first album, “Inside”. The album is very ‘80’s, heavy on the synthesizer, and suffers for the fact that it was worked on by ten different producers. Here’s a song from that album. It’s called “By Herself”.

The record did not sell, and Columbia dropped him. Three years later, he surfaced on A& M Records with a new contract and a new album, “Earth”. This album was a little more cohesive and featured more guitar, including key contributions from Robert Quine and Richard Lloyd. Here’s a song from Earth called “Wind And The Sun”.

Unfortunately, this album wasn’t any more successful than his first, and A&M dropped him too. Sweet and his wife had married young; he was 19 when they got married, but now the pressure and strain had taken its toll, and she was gone. They divorced in 1989. Having burned through two record labels and one marriage is enough to make anyone reassess their life. He regrouped, and with producer Fred Maher, they started to work on another album. And this time they stripped things back. Inspired by The Beatles’ “White Album” and Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk”, they wanted an album that felt raw, organic, direct… not necessarily “live”, they were not trying to capture a “live in the studio” band; there are plenty of overdubs, but they were trying to catch complete performances on tape. Most overdubs were performed beginning-to-end without a lot of punch-ins, with one exception: Robert Quine’s guitar solos. Quine was so unpredictable, he never played the same thing twice. So his solos were edited together from multiple takes. But most of the performances on the new album were complete takes, start to finish. Not always perfect, but capturing the feel of a song played by real human beings.

There are two other approaches to this album that contribute to its distinctive and pretty magical sound. One is the heavy use of compression. Pretty much every instrument and vocal was subject to a significant amount of compression. Compression is electronically processing the sound to level it out, increasing the quiet sections while lowering the louder parts. This can be done subtly so that you don’t really notice it, but it results in an even, consistent sound. But you can crank up the compression, producing that distinctive sound that you hear all over this record.

The other thing that makes this album sound the way it does is reverb, or I should say, the complete lack of it. There is no reverb or echo on this album at all. Vocals, drums, instruments, none of it has any reverb at all. At a time when, in the ‘80’s and early ‘90’s, reverb was used on everything to create a big sound, especially on drums, those ridiculously huge drum sounds. This album goes in completely the other direction, avoiding the use of reverb at all. And it’s all the better for it.

“Divine Intervention” is the song that opens the album. It was written by Matthew Sweet, and before we get to the album version, let’s have a taste of the demo. This is Matthew on guitar, vocals & six string bass, and Ivan Julian on lead guitar.

Once they brought it into the studio, they gave it the full band treatment. Basic tracks were laid down with Matthew on electric guitar and Rick Menck on drums. Rick was an indie rock veteran and was playing drums for Velvet Crush. Once the drums and rhythm guitar were done, Matthew Sweet would overdub a bass guitar part vocals and lead guitar, in this case by Richard Lloyd, would come after that. The song opens with a series of short, contrasting sounds. Here’s what we’re hearing there. First, there’s a snippet of the vocals from the chorus played backwards in the right channel. That is immediately followed by a guitar chord that dissolves into feedback in the left channel. This always reminds me of the beginning of “I Feel Fine” by The Beatles.

Next you can hear Rick Menck count off the song. But that’s interrupted by a stray guitar note in the center channel. I’m guessing this is an artifact from Richard Lloyd’s overdubbed guitar. And then Matthew Sweet’s guitar in the left channel kicks off the song proper. There’s also kind of a funny little guitar sting in there from Richard Lloyd.

Let’s go back to the top and hear that whole intro all the way through. You can hear what sounds like some backwards notes in the right channel.

Let’s back it up a bit and play it through the rest of the intro. The other thing you’ve probably noticed by now is the fairly extreme panning with Sweet’s guitar all the way to the left and the drums panned hard right. This was inspired by those old Beatles records. Let’s play the first verse and listen for the stereo placement of all the instruments and the vocals.

I really like the groove laid down by the bass and drums. Simple, not busy at all. Just very straightforward. Supporting the guitars and vocals and giving them plenty of room to work with.

Let’s listen to the second verse. I always thought it was interesting that, on this album that was born out of commercial failure and the collapse of his marriage, and all the questions and soul searching that would arise out of those feelings, that he would open the album with a song about maybe the biggest question of all: is there a God? And does he really care? This song doesn’t offer any answers. How could it? But it is an honest exploration of his doubts.

Notice how on that chorus that the lead and the backing vocals intentionally don’t sync up.

Next up is a guitar solo from Richard Lloyd. We’ve talked about Richard Lloyd on this podcast a couple of times before. He was a member of the band Television, which we explored in episode #147, and we covered a song from one of Richard’s solo albums way back on episode #39. I’ve always liked Richard as a player. He can be very creative. He can play with a lot of fury and fire, and he’s not above playing like a real old-fashioned guitar hero when the moment calls for it. This solo has a little bit of all of that in it. Theres a real manic energy to this one. Just for fun, lets listen to the solo on its own and then well go back and hear it in context.

All right, now let’s go back and hear that in the final mix. First, you’ll hear Matthew sweet say the word “All right”, twice. I’m guessing one of these is on the lead vocal track and the other one is on the backing vocal track. That is a cool little bit there where for a couple of seconds they flip the tape around and play it backwards. Creative tricks like these are a great way to throw in something unexpected that shocks the listener out of complacency, breaks the predictability, and helps keep the listener engaged.

Matthew Sweet sings all of the vocals on this album, all the lead and the backing vocals. It was an intentional decision to use only Matthew’s voice on the album. That creates a sense, almost subconsciously, of the album being the singular feelings and expressions of one man. Plus, Sweet is just a great singer and is able to blend his voice together in beautiful swaths of harmony.

There’s a simple but nice little drum fill there by Rick Menck, and that brings us towards the end of the song with a bit here that I’m sure is another nod to The Beatles.

Let’s listen to just a little bit of those vocals there because it’s so great.

You might think they’re going to end it right there, but it’s just a short pause. Then there’s a drum fill and Matthew laughs. And then Richard Lloyd takes flight again. Let’s hear it. There is a simple piano part in the background played by Matthew Sweet. It’s cropped up throughout the song. You can hear it if you listen closely, here in the right channel.

The song, begins to fade out. And again, you might think this is where it all ends, but it’s a false ending. It’s going to fade back up for an encore.

They weren’t trying to be tricky here. They actually thought Richard Lloyd was on such a roll, they wanted to give us another minute or so of his brilliant guitar work.

“Divine Intervention” – Matthew Sweet

The album was released in 1991 by Zoo Entertainment, at the time, a new label formed by the former president of Island Records.

The album cover is almost as famous as the album itself. It features a photo of the actress Tuesday Weld taken sometime in the late 1950’s when she was just 14 years old. Sweet originally wanted to call the album “Nothing Lasts”, but Tuesday Weld didn’t want to be associated with that title, so they changed the name of the album to “Girlfriend”.

The record label marketed the album as if it were Matthew Sweet’s first record, which was probably smart, because this was really a fresh new start for Sweet. But the strategy worked so well that most people don’t even know or forgot that he had two previous albums before this one.

The album wasn’t a smash hit out of the gate, but it certainly wasn’t a flop either. It sold steadily and eventually went platinum. It’s Matthew Sweet’s most commercially successful album, and it’s a critics’ favorite too. It’s hard to find a bad review of this album. In my opinion, it’s a damn near perfect record.

Thanks for joining me for this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. You can find all of our previous episodes on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com, or look for us wherever you listen to your favorite podcasts. New episodes of this show come out twice a month on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll meet you back here soon.

When you have a minute, please leave a review of the show, and you can always drop me a line on Facebook or by email– lovethatsongpodcastmail.com And please support the show by telling your friends about it. Share it with your fellow music junkies.

Were part of the Pantheon Podcast Network, where you’ll find many more music-related podcasts. Check them out if you get a chance, and remember to support the artists you love by buying their music.

If you don’t already have a copy of “Girlfriend”, go buy a copy now– you won’t regret it– and crank up “Divine Intervention” by Matthew Sweet.

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Small Faces are one of the all-time great British bands from the 1960’s but they never got the attention, success or respect they deserved. (Some of that was due to self-inflicted damage, but still…) Their biggest hit was “Itchycoo Park“, 2:45 of psychedelic pop perfection. All 4 members of the band shine, and engineer Glyn Johns gets to introduce the world to the sound of flanging. Feel inclined to blow your mind? Check out this episode.

TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome, everyone, to the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast, part of the Pantheon family of podcasts. I’m your host, Brad Page, and each episode, I pick one of my favorite songs, and we listen to it together, uncovering all the little moments, those special touches that make it a great song. You don’t need to be a musical expert here, we don’t get too technical. All you need is a love for music, and you’ll fit right in here.

On this episode, we are revisiting the Small Faces, because I really do love this band, and I think they’re criminally underrated, certainly here in the US.

The mid 1960’s were an amazing time for music: lots of change, experimentation, and invention. The psychedelic sounds of this era are this perfect blend of adventure, exploration, and naivete. There’s an “Alice in Wonderland” feel to all of it. And one of the best examples of this is “Itchycoo Park” by Small Faces.

We talked about the Small Faces before on this podcast, back on episode #54, and their song “Tin Soldier”, so I won’t rehash their biography again. You can go back and listen to that episode.

But for a quick refresher, Small Faces was formed in 1965 by guitarist/vocalist Steve Marriott and bass player Ronnie Lane, with Kenny Jones on drums and Ian McLagan on keyboards. Like other British bands of the era, The Who, for example, they started by playing covers of American blues and R&B artists. But by 1966, they were writing their own songs, primarily composed by Marriott and Lane. “Itchycoo Park” was their 10th single overall, but only their second single for their new record label, Immediate Records, who allowed them a lot more freedom in the studio to experiment.

The song was released in August 1967, the height of the “Summer of Love”, and it reached number 3 on the UK charts, number 16 in the US and number 1 in Canada.

The song was written by Steve Marriott and Ronnie Lane. It all started with an idea from Ronnie Lane, inspired by Oxford, England, and a park near where Marriott and Lane lived. Exactly which park is a question, because both Lane and Marriott referred to different parks over time. According to Lane, the initial musical idea came from a hymn called “God Be In My Head”.

See if you can catch how that melody influenced this song.

They structured “Itchycoo Park” as a dialogue between a normal average “straight” person and someone who was “tuned-in” and enlightened. That’s pretty much the psychedelic sixties in a nutshell.

Marriott and Lane are credited as producers on the track, with Glenn Johns as the engineer.

The song begins with an acoustic guitar in the left channel. Pretty quickly after that, Ronnie Lane’s bass joins in on the right channel, followed by the drums also on the right and the organ on the left. I think there’s a piano in there as well, but it’s pretty low in the mix. And that’s it for the intro– pretty short. The vocals come in right there.

Steve Marriott is one of the all-time great soulful belters, just one of the ballsiest singers. He influenced generations of vocalists, from Robert Plant and Paul Rogers right up through Chris Robinson of the Black Crows and beyond. He’s on my list of the all-time greatest singers. I just love his voice. But, you know, he could also hold back and sing more gently, as he does here.

A couple of other things I want to point out before we move on: Let’s remove the vocals and listen to just the backing track here. You can hear Ian McLagan’s organ part a lot clearer and especially listen to the bass. Ronnie Lane had this really unique loping style of playing that’s really on display here.

All right, let’s get to the second part of the verse. This is the part where the dialogue between the two characters comes in, as we mentioned before, with the backing vocals from Ronnie Lane; Ronnie Lane playing the part of the straight man and Steve Marriott being, well, Steve Marriott.

That’s more of the classic Marriott vocal there. This leads us into the chorus. “It’s all too beautiful”– the ultimate vision of the sixties if only that were.

There’s this little descending keyboard lick that’s kind of central to that whole chorus.

Now this brings us to the bridge. This was Steve Marriott’s biggest writing contribution to the song. He wrote this part, but what really makes it interesting is the way it was recorded. This was one of the very first records to use the effect that would become known as “flanging”. You can hear it on the vocal and the drum track.

A recording engineer named George Chkiantz is generally credited with inventing this flanging technique. He showed it to Glyn Johns, who used it on this recording. Eventually, they developed a way to do this electronically. And of course, now, like everything, you can do it digitally. I’m using a software plugin to do it to my voice right now. But back in 1967, the only way to do this was manually. Two tape machines were synchronized together, playing the same song. And by slightly slowing down one of the tapes, usually by placing your thumb on the flange of one of the tape reels, hence the name flanging, you would get this effect, which would then be recorded onto a third tape machine. There was a lot of work required to get this sound.

So we’ve been listening to the stereo version of this song because I think the stereo version provides a little better differentiation on the individual parts. But on the original mono mix of this track, I think the flanging is a little more obvious. So let’s just hear this chorus from the mono mix.

Let’s go back to the stereo version and hear the second verse. This features more of the back and forth between the lead and the backing vocals.

Let’s listen to just the vocal track.

The BBC initially banned this song because they were concerned that “I get high” was a drug reference. But the band said, “Oh, no, this song, it’s about a park. Of course, we’re talking about swinging on a swing. You know, when you’re swinging, you try to get higher and higher. That’s what we meant.” They were shocked – shocked – that you would think this song was about drugs. And the BBC bought that story.

Here’s the second time around for the bridge, and this time I think the flanging is even more prominent.

That “Ha” that Marriott puts in there. From here, they repeat the chorus until the song fades out, and they apply the flanging effect to it as well. Steve Marriott, as he always does, sounds great here.

Small Faces – “Itchycoo Park”

The small faces recorded dozens of songs that I think stand up to the best British bands of that decade. The Beatles, Stones, The Who, The Kinks… The Small Faces released stuff that was just as good, in some cases even better.

But fate just didn’t really go their way and to be honest, they never really got their act together. There was a self-destructive streak there, especially with Steve Marriott, which would only get worse throughout his life. As we’ve discussed on this podcast before, Steve Marriott died in a house fire in 1991. He was 44. Ronnie Lane was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and died in 1997, age 51. Keyboard player Ian McLagan had a long career as an in-demand session musician and sideman until he died of a stroke in 2014. Drummer Kenny Jones went on to play with The Who, and at the time of this recording, he’s still with us and continues to oversee the legacy of the Small Faces.

If you’d like to explore more Small Faces, there’s a ton of compilation albums out there. Some are better than others. My favorite is one called “The Autumn Stone”. I would start there. There’s also one called “The Ultimate Collection”. That one’s pretty good, too.

Thanks for hanging out here on this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. As you probably know by now, new episodes of this show come out twice a month, so I’ll be back in about two weeks with a brandy new episode. If you can’t bear to wait for the next episode, you can catch up on all of our previous shows on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com or just look for us in your favorite podcast app.

And if that’s not enough, there are plenty more music-related shows that you should check out right here on the Pantheon Podcast Network. We’d love it if you’d leave a review of the show wherever it is that you listen, just post a comment there. You can also find us on Facebook, just search for the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast, you’ll find our page.

And the most important thing you can do if you’d like to support the show is to just recommend the show to your friends, because your word-of-mouth carries a lot more weight than any promotion I can do. So, as always, thanks for that.

And thanks for listening to this episode on “Itchycoo Park” by Small Faces.

Podcast

David Bowie – “Starman”

April 15, 2022
Tagged as: 1970's, Arnold Corns, Classic Rock, David Bowie, Freddie Beretti, Glam Rock, Mick Ronson, Music Podcast, Robert Heinlein, Rock Star Concept, Science Fiction In Music, Song Analysis, Starman, Top Of The Pops Performance, Ziggy Stardust

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Before there was Ziggy Stardust, there was Arnold Corns…

Thanks to a legendary performance on Top Of The Pops 50 years ago, “Starman” became Bowie’s first hit since “Space Oddity” and proved he wasn’t a one-hit wonder. In this episode, we dig into the history of this song and the origin of Ziggy Stardust.

Here’s a few more Bowie episodes for your listening pleasure:

David Bowie – “Space Oddity”

David Bowie – “Station To Station”

David Bowie – “Time”

TRANSCRIPT:

Are you freaked out in a moon age daydream? Well, you better hang on to yourself, because here comes another episode of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast on the Pantheon Podcast Network. I’m your host, Brad Page, and on this show, I pick one of my favorite songs and we listen to it together to discover all of the nuances and elements, those special moments that make the song work.

David Bowie is one of our favorite subjects here on this show, because he’s one of my favorite artists. This month marks the 50th anniversary of the song that introduced Ziggy Stardust to the world, and launched David Bowie into stardom. So let’s celebrate the release of that iconic single from April 28, 1970, 250 years ago. This is David Bowie with “Starman”.

By 1971, David Bowie had been making records for eight years. But critical acclaim eluded him. He had tried being a blues singer. He had tried being a folky. He finally had a taste of real success with “Space Oddity” in 1969, but he was on the verge of being a one hit wonder.

As a teenager, he worked for an advertising agency in London. He only lasted there a year, but he was there long enough to pick up some basic advertising and marketing skills that he would later put to good use. He knew how to present an image, and he believed he had finally landed on the right product: the ultimate rock star. He just needed to do some market testing.

In 1971, along with his own recording contract, he was also working as a songwriter for a publisher, trying to write hit songs for other people. He had recorded a couple of demos that he wanted to release, but because he was under contract to a different record label, he couldn’t release the songs under his own name. So, he invented a character and a band to go along with it. But it’s not who you think.

The name of this band was Arnold Corns, and their lead singer was named Rudy Valentino. Neither Arnold Corns nor Rudy Valentino really existed. Bowie had met a 19-year-old fashion designer named Freddie Burretti. Bowie thought Freddie had the look of a rock star and would be the perfect guinea pig and front man for this new fake band. The fact that Freddie couldn’t sing, that was no problem– Bowie would provide the voice.

So David gave Freddie the stage name of “Rudy Valentino” and created the fake band Arnold Corns to back him up. Bowie hyped them up in the press, saying that the Rolling Stones are finished and Rudy would be the next Mick Jagger. So Arnold Korns released two singles. One of them was “Moonage Daydream”, backed with “Hang On To Yourself”. Here’s a little bit of Arnold Korn’s version of “Moonage Daydream”.

And here’s some of the Arnold Korn’s version of “Hang On To Yourself”.

You can really hear the Lou Reed influence in that version. Well, fortunately for the Rolling Stones, Arnold Corns was no threat. Both singles flopped and sunk without a trace.

This experiment was not a success, but Bowie would learn from it and revisit it later. In the meantime, Bowie released the “Hunky Dory” album in December 1971. Still, I think one of his best albums, “Hunky Dory”, was a leap forward in his songwriting and another rung up the ladder of success. But Bowie still had bigger ambitions. He revisited his concept of the ultimate rock star and drew inspiration from Elvis Presley to Howard Hughes, from the legendary Stardust Cowboy to the self-destruction of Hendrix and Joplin, and from novels from Van Daniken’s “Chariots of the Gods” to “I Am Still The Greatest, Says John Angelo” by Nick Cohn.

He wrote new songs and resurrected old ones like “Moonage Daydream” and “Hang On To Yourself” to create the album that would finally make David Bowie a legend, “The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”.

The Ziggy Stardust album has been called a “concept album”. Fair enough… It has a concept, but not much of a coherent story. Essentially, it’s the ascent and decline of a rock star who may or may not be an alien. Bowie, of course, plays Ziggy Stardust, and in doing so, he’s commenting on the role of the rock star in our culture and challenging the ideas of authenticity.

The album was released in June 1972. Before the album was released, “Starman” was issued as a single on April 28, 1972. “Starman” was the introduction of Ziggy Stardust to the world.

“Starman” was one of the last songs written for the album. It’s a classic example of a record label executive saying “I don’t hear a hit” and forcing the artist to go back and write something new for a single. Luckily, Bowie delivered.

It’s possible Bowie might have been inspired by science fiction author Robert Heinlein’s book “Starman Jones”. Bowie’s real name, after all, was David Jones. Musically, he drew inspiration from a few sources, and we’ll explore those. “Starman” features the Spiders from Mars, Trevor Boulder on bass, Woody Woodmansey on drums, and the great Mick Ronson, one of my real guitar heroes, on guitar and backing vocals; David Bowie played acoustic guitar as well as lead vocal, and Mick Ronson also played mellotron and wrote the string arrangement. The song was produced by David Bowie and Ken Scott.

The song opens with Bowie’s twelve string guitar.

All right, let’s get into it. David’s twelve string guitar is in the right channel. There’s also a keyboard, probably that Mellotron holding a single note, one bass guitar note, a single strum of another guitar and guitar and bass again. David is singing there, but it’s just nonsense syllables. Though he did take the time to overdub a harmony on the first one. Then Woody Woodmansey’s drum fill kicks off the first verse.

Listen to how dry that drum sound is. No reverb on that at all. The instrumentation is pretty spare on the verse, just bass, drums and two acoustic guitars panned left and right.

Woody Woodmancy is laying down a nice groove on the drums. Let’s check that out.

I guarantee you David Bowie did not talk like that in real life. He’s channeling a character here.

Now, at this point, there’s a short transitional piece of music that links the verse to the chorus. Sounds like Morse code, or an old telegraph. It evokes the idea of messages being beamed through space. Could be the Starman letting us know he’s here. It paints an audio picture. Bowie actually got the idea from another song, “You Keep Me Hanging On” by The Supremes. Here it is.

Now let’s go back to “Starman” and hear how this section joins the verse and the chorus together.

That one, no DJ. That was high as it cosmic time.

Mick Ronson and David are singing the harmonies. The instrumentation is still just bass, drums and acoustic guitar, but the string section is added on the chorus and it’s filling in a lot of empty space.

“Let the children boogie”. Around this time, Mark Bolan and T Rex were probably the hottest act in the UK. T Rex were known for playing their own brand of boogie rock. Bolan was definitely bigger than Bowie at this point. They were friends, but they were also competitors, and Bowie clearly had Bolan in his sights when he made this album. After Bowie says “let the children boogie”, the band goes into a riff that would have been right at home on a T Rex record. It’s a nod, a tip of the hat to Mark Bolan, but it’s also a little bit mocking and somewhat ironic too, as “Starman” marks Bowie’s ascent, the point where Bolan had plateaued and Bowie was about to eclipse him.

Notice the hand claps after the guitar boogie section, we have the second verse. The electric guitars disappear. It’s just the acoustics again. And Bowie turns in a restrained, almost delicate vocal as compared to the chorus. Where he’s really belting it out.

Trevor Boulder plays a nice bass part during the verse, so pay some attention to that.

The chorus begins with some vocal gymnastics by Bowie. From the word “star”, his voice leaps a full octave to the word “man”. Generations of songwriters have used that technique, as it immediately adds a sense of drama, both a literal and a figurative rise in the song. And Bowie was particularly inspired here by this classic song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, performed by Judy Garland and written by Harold Arlin and Edgar Harburg for “The Wizard of Oz”. I mean, it’s one of the greatest songs ever written. Of course, Bowie as a songwriter would be inspired by that. Here’s that same octave leap again.

Now, you might think that this is all speculation and that Bowie could have come up with it on his own, or he borrowed it from somewhere else. But listen to this version of Bowie performing “Starman” live at the Rainbow Theater in August 1972.

So there you go. In fact, you could add Judy Garland to the list of those who inspired the creation of Ziggy Stardust, another star whose rise and fall mirrors that of Ziggy. Judy Garland died of an overdose in 1969, less than three years before “Starman” was written.

They repeat the chorus here.

The boogie section is the only time electric guitars are featured in the song. There are two electric guitars here, the solo and the rhythm part in the left channel. And there’s still one acoustic guitar on the right.

Here’s where everybody gets to sing along, where the listener becomes part of the experience.

Mick Ronson plays some lead guitar in the background and we begin a long fade out, which makes it feel like this sing along could go on forever.

In July 1972, Bowie appeared on the British tv show “Top of the Pops” to perform “Starman”. It was a watershed moment. Watching it now, it all seems so tame, but at the time it was almost revolutionary. Bowie, dressed in a multicolored outfit and that flaming red hairdo that is so identified with Ziggy now, but that was a brand new ‘do at the time. He never mugs for the camera in this performance, but he smirks and grins and just looks like he’s having a great time. When Mick Ronson approaches to share the mic with him, Bowie throws his arm around Mick and pulls him close. And that one move sent a shockwave across England. It seems so innocent now. It’s hard to believe something like that could ever be controversial, but for parents across the UK, the gay subtext was just too much. They were shocked. But for millions of kids watching at home, they saw something liberating. They saw freedom.

When he sings that line in the second verse, “I had to phone someone so I picked on you”, he points into the camera, and all those kids watching at home felt like he was singing directly to them. Robert Smith of the Cure, Bono, Gary Newman, Siouxie Sioux, Mick Jones of the Clash, Boy George. Adam Ant, Noel Gallagher of Oasis, Johnny Marr… seems like everybody who formed a band in England remember seeing Bowie on “Top of the Pops” and consider this a pivotal moment in their lives. If you’ve never seen this clip from “Top of the Pops”, go watch it now. Bowie is absolutely magnetic in this performance. He’s every bit the ultimate rock star.

Thanks for listening and for being a part of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. You can continue the discussion on our Facebook page. Just search for the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast and you’ll find us.

You can listen to our previous episodes on David Bowie, as well as the dozens of other songs and artists we’ve discussed on this show, on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. And there are plenty of other great music related podcasts on the Pantheon Podcast Network, so check those out too.

We’ll be back in two weeks with another show. Thanks for joining us for this episode on David Bowie and “Starman”. And remember to support the music you love by downloading it, streaming it, or buying it from wherever you find great music.

REFERENCES:

David Bowie
https://www.davidbowie.com/

Hunky Dory album
https://www.davidbowie.com/album/hunky-dory

Space Oddity
https://www.davidbowie.com/track/space-oddity-0

Robert Heinlein
https://www.heinleinsociety.org/

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars album
https://www.davidbowie.com/album/the-rise-and-fall-of-ziggy-stardust-and-the-spiders-from-mars

Chariots of the Gods by Erich Von Daniken
https://www.erichvondaniken.com/en/

Judy Garland
https://www.judygarlandmuseum.com/

Top of the Pops
http://www.bbc.co.uk/totp

You Keep Me Hanging On” by The Supremes
https://www.motownmuseum.org/legacy/the-supremes/

Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Judy Garland
https://www.judygarlandmuseum.com/

Tag: Song Analysis

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David Bowie – “Starman”