After the arrival of the Beatles we were “invaded” by the British. It was an onslaught of talented writers and singers–it was overwhelming.
I liked a lot of these guys. Gerry and The Pacemakers was one of my favorite groups in the mid-sixties. Favorite song of theirs? Ferry Cross the Mersey. I think it’s a beautiful song and one of the reasons I liked it was that it wasn’t about love between and boy and girl. It’s about a different kind of love; it was about loving the place where you grew up.
Now I’m forced to say something about the Rolling Stones. I do not want to irritate anybody. But the Stones had little effect on me. Their music was kind of metallic, it was angry, sounded anti-social. Mick sang as if he wasn’t nice to girls. I know this sounds a little strange but music comes from the heart. I remember one of their first hits–“Let’s Spend The Night Together.” I also remember liking “Paint It Black.” This boy had lost the girl he loved and his “whole world was black.” Of course I could sympathize with this. But as they moved on and kept putting out songs I didn’t pay much attention to them. Yes, there is a story connected with this.
When I was working as a medical transcriber the other women in the room found out that I hated “Brown Sugar” and “Under My Thumb.” My desk was separated from their room; any time either song came on the oldies radio station they’d find a way to get me to come in there. It worked every time.
Also memorable is the Spencer Davis Group and their song “Gimme Some Lovin'” I remember riding around in my friend Iris’ car with that booming from the radio; and I was always a Steve Winwood fan.
I think that we had the very best music and this music gave us an identity. We were separated, very much so, from our parents’ world. And rock and roll is full of sex. During my research for writing this blog I came upon an interesting fact: “rock and roll” derived its name from black slang meaning sex.
lgmwriting 