Top Ten Albums: 1967

I thought the intro of my Top Ten list was, perhaps, a little sour on 1969.  So I didn't want everyone to think I thought the 60s were overrated.  So here to redeem the first decade of the album era, we have 1967.  

1967 is a lot like 1969.  It played host to a landmark festival and has a special place in hippie lore as "The Summer of Love".  But where 1969 saw the golden dreams of the sixties fading into the shadow of the seventies, 1967 was the sound of an era coming into its own and crystalizing its musical identity.  

I should also note that '67 was a historic year for debuts.  #8, #7, #6, #3, and #2 on this list are all debut albums, while #9 and #5 represent the kind turning point in a young careers that could be considered a rebirth.  Also of interest is the fact that several of these bands in fact released 2 albums in 1967.  I declined to include the lesser of these pairs so that I could showcase a broader range of talent, but I would like to note, in particular, the brilliance of Love's Da Capo and The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Axis: Bold as Love.  

#10

Disraeli Gears by Cream

While the blues would continue to be an important influence throughout the 60s, new artists like Jimi Hendrix were taking the highly regimented form in startling new directions.  Cream never made that leap (despite the boldly colorful cover sleeve), instead focusing on the core essentials of great blues-rock: groove and guitar.  "Sunshine of Your Love" is an unqualified triumph, radiating as much sex in that riff as three British guys can muster, and relieving the tension with a rocking chorus.  More traditional blues constructions like "Strange Brew" and "Outside Woman Blues" abound, while "Tales of Brave Ulysses" and "Swlabr" approach the psychedelic drive of Jefferson Airplane.  Some of the lyrics are tenuous, and the drummer's star turn ("Blue Condition") and the closing novelty ("Mother's Lament") are borderline unlistenable.  But this is a blues based album of impressive range, and a valuable reminder of why Eric Clapton was known as "god" until a certain American ax-slinger strolled into town.

#9

Surrealistic Pillow by Jefferson Airplane

In 1966, a young singer named Grace Slick left her band The Great Society and joined Jefferson Airplane.  She brought with her two compositions that would change the San Francisco scene forever: "Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit".  Although The Great Society had recorded the prior with legendary producer/musical eccentric Sylvester Stewart (most know him as Sly Stone), the performance captured by Slick, Marty Balin, Jorma Kaukonen, Paul Kantner, and Jack Casady transformed the song from footnote to enduring classic.  Similarly, the Airplane changed "White Rabbit" from long-form improvised jam into one of the most perfectly terse psychedelic singles of the era.  The strange march rhythm of the bass and drums, mixed with Slick's powerfully eerie lead vocal, made a scene-defining statement.

There are, of course, several other songs on the album.  The propulsive energy of "She Has Funny Cars" and "3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds", the twisted humor of "Plastic Fantastic Lover", and the sweet elegance of "Embryonic Journey" are what make this a great album, and not just fodder for a great compilation.  The Airplane would further explore the album concept on After Bathing at Baxter's, but the songs on Surrealistic Pillow are still their greatest legacy.

#8

Songs of Leonard Cohen by Leonard Cohen

Already an established poet and novelist, Leonard Cohen released his first album of folk songs in 1967 (though it wouldn't be until early '68 that it got a wide release).  Having committed himself to his new medium, Cohen explores the usual themes of the popular song: relationships and sex.  Nearly all of the songs discuss the various ways that men and women emotionally torment each other, from the chained down wanderer in "So Long, Marianne" to the betrayed hostess in "The Stranger Song".  This is perhaps best exemplified in the closing track, "One of Us Cannot Be Wrong", in which the narrator struggles with an unfaithful lover.  First he tries to get back at her, and then simply to get over her.  But in the end, when he is watching a video of her cheating on him in a blizzard, he wants only to join her.  The last verse is simply the wordless moaning of a broken man, coming from somewhere in the corner of the room.

#7

Moby Grape by Moby Grape

The fact that Moby Grape's eponymous debut is still so fondly remembered by historians is perhaps the most poetic triumph of art over commerce.  Though it produced only one modestly charting single, this is primarily because 5 of its tracks were simultaneously released as singles. This and a myriad other marketing blunders hurt the album's chances of getting a fair listen, and one of the Summer of Love's most promising bands was snuffed before they had a chance to shine.

"Hey Grandma" opens the album with a tale that almost perfectly summarizes the Summer of Love: a hippie gets so stoned that he starts hitting on his (or perhaps somebody else's) grandmother.  The lyrics are delivered with Byrdsian harmonies, but over a driving rock beat and frenetic, bluesy guitars, which come to a stuttering, syncopated halt during the chorus.

In a similar vein is the one single that landed on the chart: "Omaha".  However, what sets "Omaha" apart is the abstract, stereophonic introduction.  Amid the more traditional (albeit varied) rock/folk/country structures that define the album's sound, such a psychedelic burst, more at home on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, is quite astonishing.  And it is this experimental spirit, matched with their superb musicianship and vocal blend, is what makes this album a triumph.

#6

Forever Changes by Love

In many ways, Forever Changes is an anti-psychedelic album.  Most songwriters who turned to the abstract lyricism of the psych movement did so with a sort of unbridled optimism: a drug fueled idea of a utopian future.  Not Arthur Lee.  He was "Sitting on the hillside, watching all the people die", getting ready to "thumb a ride" to heaven in "The Red Telephone".  Elsewhere, he explores racial divides in the LA music scene ("Maybe the People Will Become the Times or Between Clark and Hillsdale"), American imperialism ("Live and Let Live"), and utopian ideals ("The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This", "The Daily Planet").  

Musically too, the album fits in a strange place in the psychedelic universe.  The mystical guitar chords, exotic spanish horns, and unpredictable, serpentine structures are a heady brew indeed. However, the album also (almost) completely ignores electronic effects and the potential of the recording studio.  The result is a sound both otherworldly and earthy.  And when electricity is introduced into the songs, on the fiery solo break of "A House is Not a Motel" or in the stuttering tape that signals the end of the daydream in "The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This", the effect is all the greater.

Ultimately, this is an album who's legacy is cemented by its bookend tracks.  Opener "Alone Again Or" is the best known, though it was written by Love's George Harrison: Brian Maclean. It could be read as a simple love song, a comment on the "free love" concept, or a critique of humanity.  But no matter what it means, it is a joy to listen to, with a masterful arrangement that perfectly sets the tone of the album.

On the other side, "You Set the Scene" is the kind of thematically sprawling epic you'd expect to find at the end of a Dylan album, except that the musical twists outnumber the lyrical ones. The first half is largely an extremely eloquent skewering of hippie ideals of peace and love ("There are people wearing frowns who'll screw you up but they would rather screw you down").  But where the song becomes truly transcendent is in the latter half, when Lee begs the listener to accept that life is shitty, but to go out and live it anyway.  You say you want a revolution?  Well then make a fucking revolution!

"Everything I've seen needs rearranging

And for anyone who thinks it's strange

Then you should be the first to want to make this change

And for everyone who thinks that life is just a game

Do you like the part you're playing?"

#5

I Never Loved a Man the Way that I Love You by Aretha Franklin

What a transformation.  Done with singing "Rock-A-Bye Your Baby (With a Dixie Melody)" for Columbia, Aretha opens her Atlantic Records debut with perhaps the most iconic soul single of all time: "Respect".  A perfect record and one of the greatest covers of all time, "Respect" was ranked the 5th greatest song of all time by Rolling Stone magazine.  But one song does not a great album make, and I Never Loved a Man... does not stop after track 1.  

For one thing, there's the title track.  With a smoky, seductive groove that gradually adds layer after layer until the tension is released in the explosive bridge, "I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Loved You)" is another stunner.  "Do Right Woman - Do Right Man" was memorably covered by The Flying Burrito Brothers, but this remains the definitive version: a cool, impassioned plea for fidelity.

None of the other tracks match these highs, but only the unimaginative "Good Times" disappoints.  Ray Charles' "Drown in My Own Tears" gets a solid reading, and tracks like "Don't Let Me Lose This Dream" and "Save Me" provide some stylistic variety.  And the stirring piano-based rendition of "A Change is Gonna Come" completes the triumvirate of classic recordings of the Sam Cooke staple (along with Sam Cooke's original orchestral version and Otis Redding's rousing horn-backed take).  Aretha takes the song back to the church where soul music was born, an alter at which devout music fans of all stripes should bow.

#4

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn by Pink Floyd

Piper is the defining work of original Floyd frontman Syd Barret, who's tenure with the group was cut short by his excessive drug use and nascent psychological problems.  However, one could argue that it is these issues that make this a landmark record.  

This is a record with two distinct personalities: one exploring wondrous new psychedelic worlds, and one capturing the joyous, wide eyed perspective of a child.  It is this dichotomy that sets Piper apart from other psychedelic/prog albums.  The genre became known for its super-serious posturing as it developed, but Barrett maintains a more balanced tone with lighthearted fairytales like "The Gnome" and "Matilda Mother" and the absurd, jubilant sweetness of "Bike".  

On the other side, we have tracks that explore spacious new worlds of sound.  From opening track, "Astronomy Domine", outer space is identified as a significant theme for the album, but this track is only an appetizer.  The feast is "Interstellar Overdrive", a surging 10 minute epic that begins with a simple guitar riff, but then branches out in so many directions (from spastic proto-punk slashes to minimalist squawks and hypnotic sustained chords) that by the time the band centers around the opening riff again, it's even more exhilarating than it was the first time.  The organ swirls in and out of the mix, some times taking the lead, but mostly providing the kind of mystic atmosphere that tracks like this depend on.  

The transformative power of this track was a major stepping stone in the development of psychedelia, one that bridges the gap between the mind-blowing sonics of The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows" and the long form prog rock jams that would follow.  And the way that the album flows, "Interstellar Overdrive" could pass for an extended introduction to "The Gnome", highlighting Syd Barrett's ability to not only write in two distinct styles, but to weave them together as if they belonged that way.

#3

Are You Experienced [US Edition] by The Jimi Hendrix Experience

If you go out and buy Are You Experienced today, you don't need to worry about which side of the atlantic you're on.  The Experience Hendrix CD reissue (from 1997) gives you everything, including the b-sides from the three singles. But in 1967, there were two albums called Are You Experienced.  Hendrix and his British label decided not to include the singles that the band had already released, assuming that fans would feel cheated buying them, in essence, a second time on the LP.  His American label concluded, however, that more people would buy the album with the singles included, especially since they had barely charted stateside.

In the end, there's no question that the American tracks are superior.  On the British LP, "Can You See Me" is a definite dud.  The attempt at a lyrical twist is awkward, and the guitar riff is not especially memorable.  But "Remember" is a solid R&B track, and especially satisfying since Hendrix didn't often revisit the style, and "Red House" is a classic blues, with fantastic guitar playing that more than makes up for lyrics that are very much of the style.  No, it is not the British LP's fault that it's American cousin is better.  You simply can't argue with "Hey Joe", "The Wind Cries Mary", and "Purple Haze", 3 songs that I'm sure you know well enough that their discussion would be as unnecessary as it would be futile.  

You could debate sequencing, but the differences are minor.  "Are You Experienced?" closes both LPs perfectly, and tracks like the psychedelic voyage of "Third Stone from the Sun" astonish in any context, even after 40 years of new sonic discoveries.  Especially if you consider that those discoveries may never have been made without it.

You see, on this debut, and the two Jimi Hendrix Experience masterpieces that were to follow, Hendrix took the art of the electric guitar to the next level for the first time since Chuck Berry.  While The Beatles were the first to include feedback on a record, that was a happy accident.  And although backwards guitar loops were beginning to gain prominence, none sounded like what Hendrix was doing.  The final minutes of "Third Stone..." or the solo break in "I Don't Live Today" turn traditional guitar virtuosity on its ear, adding to the bag of tricks employed by underground rockers in the 80s as they battled to reconcile beauty and noise (see below).  But Hendrix had the traditional technical skills as well, and the proto-metallic crunch of "Foxey Lady" sparked an entirely different movement as the 60s melted into the 70s.

 

#2

The Velvet Underground and Nico by The Velvet Underground

"Sunday Morning" launches the album with a sweet, innocent xylophone melody.  And then the two-chord strut of "I'm Waiting for The Man" tears those misty dreams to shreds.  The guitars are almost as dirty as the dingy back alleys and brownstones of the titular drug dealer.  "Proto-Punk", as the genre for pre-Ramones punk bands, was born.

You see, while most artists in 1967 were looking to the skies, singing about purple hazes and tangerine dreams, Lou Reed looked to the gutter, and sang about what he found.  From the soulless Warhol hanger-on depicted in "Femme Fatale" to the S&M deviants depicted in the trance-inducing "Venus in Furs", Reed showcases the lowest elements of New York life.  But his language does not pass judgement: he is merely a reporter from society's underbelly, not its judge and jury. 

But the centerpiece of the album is "Heroin".  Beginning, again, with a dulcet calm, the song's tempo fluctuates to emulate the rush of injection and the haze of inactivity that surrounds it. Then, in the final minutes, the band erupts into a frenzy of activity that is perhaps best described as noise.  Abrasive, atonal, painful noise.  But it is this noise that established the template for underground rock 15 years away.  The quest to find the perfect merger of beauty and noise became the dominant concern of indie rock in the 80s, when bands like The Jesus and Mary Chain, Dinosaur Jr., and Sonic Youth took things to the next level (inspiring in their wake such followers as My Bloody Valentine and Nirvana).  And it all started here.

#1

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles

Is it the first concept album?  At best it's essentially a tie with The Who's Sell Out.  Is it the best collection of songs ever assembled as a proper album?  It may not even be The Beatles' best such collection.  So why is Sgt. Pepper the best album, not only of 1967, but all time?

Because it has the perfect combination of quality songcraft, masterful production, expert musicianship, conceptual identity, and experimental verve.  The opening title track sets the stage.  The Beatles did not tour behind this album.  They intended to send the album out on tour for them.  So they introduce their new alter egos at the outset.  They ARE Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, and this is their show.  Well, along with Billy Shears, of course.

Further along, the Lennon and McCartney advance ideas from their prior album, 1966's Revolver.  "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" does for Lewis Carol what "Tomorrow Never Knows" did for the Tibetan Book of the Dead, while "Getting Better" puts a more subversive twist on the unflinching optimism of "Good Day Sunshine".  

And, like on Revolver, they continue to explore more mature themes.  From the existential wonderings and self-actualization of "Fixing a Hole" to the family drama (and harps!) of "She's Leaving Home", this is no longer the same band that just wants to hold your hand.  

I suppose it only makes sense that the next place that psychedelia would go would be the sinister fun of the carnival, but "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" could not have done a better job of doing so.  The truly random caliope solo at the end (assembled by taking a taped solo, cutting it to pieces, throwing the pieces in the air, and stitching them together as they landed) is remarkable.

And then we reach the apex of George Harrison's fascination with India.  Finally immersing himself fully in not just the instrumentation, but also the compositional techniques of Indian Classical Music, "Within You Without You" is perhaps Harrison's finest moment.  A short sitar solo opens the piece, reminiscent of the "alap" section in Indian compositions.  And as the song develops, no harmonic movement is introduced.  Indian music is all about melody, with nothing but the ever-present, single note drone to provide harmony, and this piece is no different.  But the best part is the instrumental section in the middle, where a variety of traditional Indian strings exchange lines in a sort of dialogue with a Western string section.  The ultimate symbol of this track's perfect fusion of sensibilities.

This worldly, exotic wonder is then followed by the incredibly english, traditional-sounding "When I'm Sixty-Four", still the only song I know to be backed primarily by a clarinet trio.  The playful psych-pop of "Lovely Rita" follows, leading to the urban bustle of "Good Morning, Good Morning", inspired by a cereal commercial.  As this horn-inflected blast fades out, we hear the clattering of barn-yard animals, a nod to Brian Wilson's Pet Sounds, his entry in the pop-cultural arms race that led to Sgt. Pepper.

The squawk of a chicken turns into a spurt of guitar as The Concept returns, with what I would argue is the first remix in pop music.  Upping the tempo and supplying a more dance inflected beat, we have "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)".  But this is just a fanfare to announce the arrival of the perfect final track.

"A Day in the Life" could be a total failure.  Essentially, Lennon reads the paper and McCartney wakes up late and hurries to the bus.  But the piano and guitar at the beginning set a perfectly dramatic yet spartan tone, as odd, angular drum fills trickle in and coalesce into a rhythmic identity.  And then, a collection of some of London's finest symphonic musicians travel randomly from the lowest note on their instrument to the highest.  The pace quickens as McCartney wakes and prepares for the day, lending the song a sense of musical theater, as does the hazy sound of Lennon's "dream" vocal.  The final Lennon verse casts his contributions in an entirely different light, shifting from talk of dead politicians and war films to the number of holes in the Royal Albert Hall.  And the perfectly realized epic ends with one impossibly epic, seemingly endless piano chord.  

Well, almost.  The first concept album (maybe), the first remix, and then the first "hidden track": an insane barrage of sound that would loop endlessly in the runout groove of the original vinyl until somebody stopped the needle.  The comic absurdity of it actually undermines the lingering emotions of "A Day in the Life", but that piano chord gives you plenty of time to reflect.  And it's hard to discredit an album for having too many original ideas, though Pepper clearly had plenty without this little addendum.