Wow, it's been 30 years already.
The Bicentennial represented one big bash for America, a badly needed pick-me-up following the dreary one-two punch of Watergate and the first Energy Crisis. You get to celebrate your 200th birthday only once, and we did it in style.
The year in music wasn't so kind, as I recall. It marked kind of a transition for me as an impressionable teenager, from listening to Top 40 bubblegum in '75 (I actually bought a 45 of K.C. & the Sunshine Band's "That's the Way [I Like It]") to buying my first Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa albums in '77.
As such, I started listening with a more discerning ear to what was coming over the radio airwaves. Some of it was really, really good. Much of it was just plain awful, even to a kid. And that's without considering the disco invasion that was about to overcome the landscape.
In the Spirit of '76, here are some musical memories from that long-ago year:
- "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," Blue Oyster Cult. The last vestige of the psychedelic '60s (stylistically speaking) to make the Top 20, this tune certainly has displayed staying power, perhaps as a result of its presence in that greatest of all slasher films, the original "Halloween." I remember getting a big smile on my face (still do) every time I'd hear that shimmering minor chord that opens the song, as it usually followed something I didn't want to hear in the first place. I ran out and bought the album it appears on, "Agents of Fortune," and was amazed to hear an intense mid-tune guitar solo that had been lopped off the single.
- "Frampton Comes Alive," Peter Frampton. At the time, this set a new sales record for a live album. Why? Historians still are asking that question 30 years later. My guess is a combination of: 1) cover shot that appealed to the ladies; 2) saturation airplay for three singles from the album; 3) interest in concert-recorded LPs fueled by "Kiss Alive"; 4) novelty of the "talk box" guitar sound, especially on "Do You Feel Like We Do" (that's what hooked me). Peter didn't sell all that much before or after, but for a while, he made Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss (the bosses at A&M Records) very, very happy.
- "Couldn't Get It Right," Climax Blues Band. This song rang in with a catchy bass line as another break in a seemingly endless series of mediocre "hits" on the radio. I later learned this sounded nothing like the rest of the Climax Blues Band's material, which usually lived up to the "blues" billing. Check out its 1971 album "Tightly Knit" if you get a chance.
- "Boston," Boston. When the album's opening track, "More Than a Feeling," hit the airwaves, it sounded very fresh and enlightening. Then I discovered every other song on the album sounded almost exactly like it. That made the whole thing extremely radio-friendly, to the point where you wanted to turn off the radio. I later saw Boston live, in support of "Third Stage" in 1986, and the band put on one heck of a show, with Tom Scholz demonstrating he could take that great guitar sound to the arenas. But while I still enjoy hearing "More Than a Feeling" every decade or so, that's about all I want of Boston.
- "Golden Years," David Bowie. I was familiar with his rather bizarre '75 hit "Fame" (co-written by John Lennon, incidentally), but really got exposed to the erstwhile Ziggy Stardust with this upbeat ditty, which for a while seemed to be the theme song for radio station Starview 92 from Lancaster. Unless it was ...
- "Bohemian Rhapsody," Queen. To this day, I cite this pastiche as the main reason I turned off the radio and started buying albums in massive quantities. I simply did not want to hear "I see a little silhouette-o of a man/Scaramouche, Scaramouch, can you do the fandango?" ever again, if I could help it. Oh, no. It's going through my head. Turn it off!
- "Presence," Led Zeppelin. Zep purists usually list this album down at the bottom of their list of preferences, particularly with it coming on the heels of the classic "Physical Graffiti." I'm partial to presence, though, because it's the first Zeppelin album I listened to at length.
- "Dream On," Aerosmith. We didn't know it at the time, but this song actually was three years old when Columbia decided to release it as a single in early '76. It drew me in, and for a while this set of boys from Boston was my favorite band, displacing my sort-of namesake, Grand Funk Railroad. And when Aerosmith came to the Farm Show Arena in Harrisburg that year, I attended my first rock concert. I remember a lot of smoke and a strange smell in the air.
- "Let 'Em In," Wings. Another tune on "Wings at the Speed of Sound," the here's-why-we-pick-on-Paul "Silly Love Songs," was actually the top-selling single of the year. We preferred its simple, languidly paced follow-up, which seemed to suit the style of our leisurely summer, back when we were still too young to get jobs.
- "The Boys Are Back in Town," Thin Lizzy. The tough sound of the Irish band's only sizable American hit was such a change of pace from some of the other stuff that was popular at the time (think "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John & Kiki Dee) that we'd often phone into WKBO requesting it. I still hear it quite a bit, too. Unfortunately, there never was a follow-up of similar proportions, and Lizzy leader Phil Lynott died a decade later.
- "Afternoon Delight," Starland Vocal Band. My most vivid memory of this song (besides hating it) was during civics class, when our teacher let us listen to the radio and we were treated to the foursome's caterwauling. As they put forth their double-entendres, which were rather risque in '76, the teacher kept glancing over in disbelief. I guess that made suffering through hearing it sort of worth it. Incidentally, the SVB landed its own summer fill-in TV series a while later, and while I never would've dreamed of watching it, the series did feature the talents of a young David Letterman.
- "Love Hurts," Nazareth. I had no idea this was a much-covered classic originally done by the Everly Brothers and taken to unmatched heights by Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris. The Scottish quartet (who took the group's name from the opening line of The Band's "The Weight") used the song to develop a template for what would become the ever-popular Power Ballad of the '80s & '90s. I still enjoy Nazareth's version, as well as the album it appears on, "Hair of the Dog." A great version of Nils Lofgren's "Beggars Day" can be found on that.
And of course:
- "Play That Funky Music," Wild Cherry. I remember sitting in a friend's bedroom listening to the radio, and WKBO played this song three times within one hour, with us shouting the lyrics at the top of our lungs each time. Perhaps the greatest one-hit wonder of 'em all, and I've met the guy (Ron Beitel) who played drums on it.
The Bicentennial represented one big bash for America, a badly needed pick-me-up following the dreary one-two punch of Watergate and the first Energy Crisis. You get to celebrate your 200th birthday only once, and we did it in style.
The year in music wasn't so kind, as I recall. It marked kind of a transition for me as an impressionable teenager, from listening to Top 40 bubblegum in '75 (I actually bought a 45 of K.C. & the Sunshine Band's "That's the Way [I Like It]") to buying my first Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa albums in '77.
As such, I started listening with a more discerning ear to what was coming over the radio airwaves. Some of it was really, really good. Much of it was just plain awful, even to a kid. And that's without considering the disco invasion that was about to overcome the landscape.
In the Spirit of '76, here are some musical memories from that long-ago year:
- "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," Blue Oyster Cult. The last vestige of the psychedelic '60s (stylistically speaking) to make the Top 20, this tune certainly has displayed staying power, perhaps as a result of its presence in that greatest of all slasher films, the original "Halloween." I remember getting a big smile on my face (still do) every time I'd hear that shimmering minor chord that opens the song, as it usually followed something I didn't want to hear in the first place. I ran out and bought the album it appears on, "Agents of Fortune," and was amazed to hear an intense mid-tune guitar solo that had been lopped off the single.
- "Frampton Comes Alive," Peter Frampton. At the time, this set a new sales record for a live album. Why? Historians still are asking that question 30 years later. My guess is a combination of: 1) cover shot that appealed to the ladies; 2) saturation airplay for three singles from the album; 3) interest in concert-recorded LPs fueled by "Kiss Alive"; 4) novelty of the "talk box" guitar sound, especially on "Do You Feel Like We Do" (that's what hooked me). Peter didn't sell all that much before or after, but for a while, he made Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss (the bosses at A&M Records) very, very happy.
- "Couldn't Get It Right," Climax Blues Band. This song rang in with a catchy bass line as another break in a seemingly endless series of mediocre "hits" on the radio. I later learned this sounded nothing like the rest of the Climax Blues Band's material, which usually lived up to the "blues" billing. Check out its 1971 album "Tightly Knit" if you get a chance.
- "Boston," Boston. When the album's opening track, "More Than a Feeling," hit the airwaves, it sounded very fresh and enlightening. Then I discovered every other song on the album sounded almost exactly like it. That made the whole thing extremely radio-friendly, to the point where you wanted to turn off the radio. I later saw Boston live, in support of "Third Stage" in 1986, and the band put on one heck of a show, with Tom Scholz demonstrating he could take that great guitar sound to the arenas. But while I still enjoy hearing "More Than a Feeling" every decade or so, that's about all I want of Boston.
- "Golden Years," David Bowie. I was familiar with his rather bizarre '75 hit "Fame" (co-written by John Lennon, incidentally), but really got exposed to the erstwhile Ziggy Stardust with this upbeat ditty, which for a while seemed to be the theme song for radio station Starview 92 from Lancaster. Unless it was ...
- "Bohemian Rhapsody," Queen. To this day, I cite this pastiche as the main reason I turned off the radio and started buying albums in massive quantities. I simply did not want to hear "I see a little silhouette-o of a man/Scaramouche, Scaramouch, can you do the fandango?" ever again, if I could help it. Oh, no. It's going through my head. Turn it off!
- "Presence," Led Zeppelin. Zep purists usually list this album down at the bottom of their list of preferences, particularly with it coming on the heels of the classic "Physical Graffiti." I'm partial to presence, though, because it's the first Zeppelin album I listened to at length.
- "Dream On," Aerosmith. We didn't know it at the time, but this song actually was three years old when Columbia decided to release it as a single in early '76. It drew me in, and for a while this set of boys from Boston was my favorite band, displacing my sort-of namesake, Grand Funk Railroad. And when Aerosmith came to the Farm Show Arena in Harrisburg that year, I attended my first rock concert. I remember a lot of smoke and a strange smell in the air.
- "Let 'Em In," Wings. Another tune on "Wings at the Speed of Sound," the here's-why-we-pick-on-Paul "Silly Love Songs," was actually the top-selling single of the year. We preferred its simple, languidly paced follow-up, which seemed to suit the style of our leisurely summer, back when we were still too young to get jobs.
- "The Boys Are Back in Town," Thin Lizzy. The tough sound of the Irish band's only sizable American hit was such a change of pace from some of the other stuff that was popular at the time (think "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John & Kiki Dee) that we'd often phone into WKBO requesting it. I still hear it quite a bit, too. Unfortunately, there never was a follow-up of similar proportions, and Lizzy leader Phil Lynott died a decade later.
- "Afternoon Delight," Starland Vocal Band. My most vivid memory of this song (besides hating it) was during civics class, when our teacher let us listen to the radio and we were treated to the foursome's caterwauling. As they put forth their double-entendres, which were rather risque in '76, the teacher kept glancing over in disbelief. I guess that made suffering through hearing it sort of worth it. Incidentally, the SVB landed its own summer fill-in TV series a while later, and while I never would've dreamed of watching it, the series did feature the talents of a young David Letterman.
- "Love Hurts," Nazareth. I had no idea this was a much-covered classic originally done by the Everly Brothers and taken to unmatched heights by Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris. The Scottish quartet (who took the group's name from the opening line of The Band's "The Weight") used the song to develop a template for what would become the ever-popular Power Ballad of the '80s & '90s. I still enjoy Nazareth's version, as well as the album it appears on, "Hair of the Dog." A great version of Nils Lofgren's "Beggars Day" can be found on that.
And of course:
- "Play That Funky Music," Wild Cherry. I remember sitting in a friend's bedroom listening to the radio, and WKBO played this song three times within one hour, with us shouting the lyrics at the top of our lungs each time. Perhaps the greatest one-hit wonder of 'em all, and I've met the guy (Ron Beitel) who played drums on it.
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