Archive for the ‘Symmetry’ Category

No. 50 Fifty Years Ago (May 1970)

Wednesday, May 6th, 2020

It’s time for another game of Symmetry, and today, we’ll head back to the last month of my junior year of high school, a time I recall as being among the best musical seasons of my life. (As to the other aspects of my life, well, I was sixteen and learning.)

Here’s the Top Ten from Billboard for the second week in May 1970:

“American Woman/No Sugar Tonight” by the Guess Who
“ABC” by the Jackson 5
“Let It Be” by the Beatles
“Vehicle” by the Ides Of March
“Spirit In The Sky” by Norman Greenbaum
“Love Or Let Me Be Lonely” by the Friends Of Distinction
“Everything Is Beautiful” by Ray Stevens
“Instant Karma (We All Shine On)” by John Ono Lennon
“Turn Back The Hands Of Time” by Tyrone Davis
“Reflections Of My Life” by Marmalade

There’s no way I can critically assess most of those eleven records. They were my afternoon and evening companions during that long-ago spring. Ray Stevens’ record would elicit a groan when it came through the radio speakers, but the others were always welcome.

My rankings at the time would have put the records by the Friends Of Distinction and Tyrone Davis in ninth and tenth place, and they might have deserved better, being fine pieces of pop soul, a genre that wasn’t really in my wheelhouse back then. Even today, the best either one of them could do is sixth place, behind “Let It Be,” “Instant Karma,” “Spirit In The Sky,” “Reflections Of My Life,” and “Vehicle.”

I should note that the version of “Let It Be” I heard on the radio was the version produced by George Martin, and I was startled not long after this Top Ten came out when I bought the Let It Be album and heard the very different version Phil Spector came up with when he produced the album. Fifty years later, I still prefer the single version (though Spector’s version is not nearly as jarring now as it was then).

I think I’ve made reference over the years here to the three-day performing and touring trip by the St. Cloud Tech Concert Choir in the spring of 1970. Somebody brought a radio, and I’m certain we heard all eleven of those records. I specifically recall two of them – “Spirit In The Sky” and “Instant Karma” – competing with the conversation and laughter of about sixty high school seniors and juniors as we headed through the Minnesota night toward the Canadian border and the city of Winnipeg.

So those records are part of my musical DNA, and I’d guess that ten of them are in the iPod and thus are still part of my day-to-day listening. And I’m right. The only record of the eleven in that list at the top of the page that is not in the iPod is the Ray Stevens record. I imagine that somewhere from the years 1969 through 1972, I could find a Top Ten that’s an iPod sweep, but until that shows up, ten out of eleven is pretty damned good.

But what about our other business this morning? What do we find when we drop to No. 50? Well, we find a record that’s not on any of the shelves here: “Chicken Strut” by the Meters. So all we can do is note that the record went no higher, and then listen . . . and cluck.

No. 47, Forty-Seven Years Ago

Wednesday, April 15th, 2020

We’ve not done anything in 1973 since sometime last year, so I thought we’d fire up the Symmetry machine and jump into the middle of April 1973.

I was finishing my second academic year at St. Cloud State, but I recall at most two of the classes I took. I think I repeated the basic history class I’d failed during my first quarter on campus, replacing African history with a look at Nineteenth Century anarchism in Europe. And with more than a hundred other folks, I was taking an orientation to Denmark (once a week, I think), and as we met, I had no clue that most of the people in that room would become friends with whom I would still gather more than forty years later.

(Of course, at nineteen, I couldn’t conceive of things being forty years later. Hell, I trouble trying to figure out what life was going to be like five months later when most of us in that room headed out to Denmark. And I kind of knew that however I envisioned it, it would be different.)

Otherwise, I was hanging around at The Table in the student union, laughing and sipping coffee with about ten other folks, three of whom remain in my life today. And I assume we heard at least some of mid-April’s Billboard Top Ten as we gathered not far from the jukebox:

“The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia” by Vicki Lawrence
“Neither One Of Us (Wants To Be the First To Say Goodbye)” by Gladys Knight & The Pips
“Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree” by Dawn feat. Tony Orlando
“Ain’t No Woman (Like the One I Got)” by the Four Tops
“Sing” by the Carpenters
“The Cisco Kid” by War
“Danny Song” by Anne Murray
“Break Up To Make Up” by the Stylistics
“Killing Me Softly With His Song” by Roberta Flack
“Call Me (Come Back Home)” by Al Green

Well, the records by Gladys Knight, the Four Tops, the Stylistics, Roberta Flack and Al Green save that set of ten, although “Neither One Of Us” is one of Knight’s lesser efforts (and the same might be said of the Four Tops’ record).

Lawrence’s attempt at a southern gothic tale of good ole boys, illicit romance, murder and lynching has always fallen flat to me, with too much pop sheen and too lilting a chorus. Slow it down a fair amount, add some swamp, and have Cher include it on her Muscle Shoals album, and I’d probably like it.

I tuned out “Yellow Ribbon” and “The Cisco Kid” whenever I heard them, and even though I liked some of the Carpenters’ stuff, “Sing” was just too saccharine. As to “Danny’s Song,” I much prefer Loggins & Messina’s 1971 version.

So, how many of those ten have stayed with me for nearly fifty years? Among the 3,900-some tracks in the iPod, I find only the records by Gladys Knight and the Stylistics. I’m surprised by the absence of the records by Al Green and Roberta Flack; those will be added by the end of the day.

And what of our other business today? When we drop to No. 47 in that long-ago Hot 100, what do we find? Well, we find the only Top 40 hit for an R&B group from Harlem, and it’s a record I remember well, one I liked a lot. And it was in fact one of the first tracks I dug out of the LP stacks to rip to an mp3 when I got my digital turntable: “I’m Doin’ Fine Now” by New York City.

Released on the Chelsea label, the record went to No. 17 in the Billboard Hot 100, No. 14 on the magazine’s R&B chart, and No. 8 on the Easy Listening chart.

No. 48, Forty-Eight Years Ago

Wednesday, January 15th, 2020

It’s time for another game of Symmetry, and today, we’re wandering back to January of 1972, a time when I was kind of figuring out college life. I was learning how to study, how to enjoy coffee, and how to put together a late-night, five-minute, top-of-the-hour newsbreak for St. Cloud State’s KVSC-FM that wouldn’t sound stupid being bracketed by Mason Proffit and Long John Baldry.

We’re going to change the game a little bit today, calling it Album Symmetry and instead of looking at the top singles, we’ll look at the album chart. The top ten albums in the Billboard 200 forty-eight years ago today were:

Music by Carole King
American Pie by Don McLean
Chicago at Carnegie Hall
The Concert for Bangla Desh
Led Zeppelin IV
Teaser & The Firecat by Cat Stevens
Tapestry by Carole King
All In The Family soundtrack
There’s A Riot Goin’ On by Sly & The Family Stone
Black Moses by Isaac Hayes

Eight of those eventually ended up on the vinyl stacks here. At the time this chart was released, two, maybe three, of those albums were in the cardboard box in the basement rec room: The Concert For Bangla Desh and Tapestry were for sure, but I’m not certain about the Cat Stevens album.

Tapestry and Teaser . . . were my sister’s LPs, and she’d take them with her when she got married and left Kilian Boulevard during the coming summer. I’d eventually get my own copies of those two records and copies of five more of the ten albums listed there. The only two that didn’t ever show up were the All In The Family soundtrack and the Isaac Hayes album. (The Isaac Hayes album is on the digital shelves, but oddly, the Sly & The Family Stone album is not; all of the others except the All In The Family soundtrack are there.)

So of those, how many matter today? Well, most of Tapestry is in the iPod, as well as selected tracks from Music, American Pie, The Concert For Bangla Desh, and the albums by Led Zeppelin and Cat Stevens. It’s the stuff that – if you’ve been reading this blog even semi-regularly – you’d expect to be there. So no surprises there.

But what about our ostensible purpose for being here today? What album sits at No. 48 on that chart released forty-eight years ago today?

Well, it’s an album that never had a chance of getting onto my shelves: Cheech & Chong. I heard the 1971 debut album by Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong often at friends’ places, and I laughed along with everyone else. But comedy albums have never been a big deal to me. In fact, the only comedy album I ever sought out for myself was Bill Cosby’s Wonderfulness, which my folks bought for me, most likely in 1967. (A few other comedy records have come and gone in box buys at flea markets and garage sales.)

Enough people elsewhere loved Cheech & Chong for it to get to No. 26 during a sixty-four week run on the chart. And here’s the opening bit from the album, a bit that lives on in a lot of people’s heads when they meet someone named Dave.

No. 45 Forty-Five Years Ago

Friday, December 20th, 2019

I thought we’d drop back to the last month of 1974 today for a quick look at the Billboard Hot 100 and a game of Symmetry. Much of the music in the top of the chart, I imagine, will be familiar from the jukebox near The Table in St. Cloud State’s Atwood Center. Here’s the Top Ten from forty-five years ago:

“Cat’s In The Cradle” by Harry Chapin
“Kung Fu Fighting” by Carl Douglas
“Angie Baby” by Helen Reddy
“When Will I See You Again” by the Three Degrees
“You’re The First, My Last, My Everything” by Barry White
“Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” by Elton John
“Sha-La-La (Make Me Happy)” by Al Green
”Junior’s Farm/Sally G” by Paul McCartney & Wings
“I Can Help” by Billy Swan
“Do It (’Til You’re Satisfied)” by B.T. Express

That’s an okay set, I guess. I had to remind myself about the Al Green single with a trip to YouTube, and the very first strains of the record touched a vein of melancholy, an emotion not in short supply that month. The others are all familiar to varying degrees, but none of them were overly important during that long-ago December (although the Three Degrees single became very important not quite a year later when I was courting the young woman who eventually became the Other Half).

Even at the time, I was tired of the Harry Chapin and Billy Swan singles, and my occasionally faulty memory wants me to think that “Kung Fu Fighting” was a hit in the summer instead of the autumn. Was there a favorite among that bunch of eleven records as December 1974 headed into its last ten days? Well, maybe “Angie Baby,” Reddy’s surreal tale about the crazy radio-loving girl.

And today? How many of them are in the iPod? Only two: “Angie Baby” and “When Will I See You Again.” That says something, I guess.

And how about our work a little lower down, when we drop to No. 45 in that long-ago chart, what do we find?

Well, we find a double-sided single from James Brown, the first side of which – “Funky President (People It’s Bad)” – has the singer testifying about the sad state of the nation, ending with Brown stating, “I need to be the governor. I need to be the governor . . .” On the B-side, “Coldblooded,” he reminds us that “Every trip you got to be hipper than hip!”

The double-sided single didn’t go much further on the pop chart, peaking at No. 44. On the R&B chart, the A-side went to No. 4, so we’ll go with “Funky President (People It’s Bad)” this morning.

No. 50 Fifty Years Ago

Friday, October 25th, 2019

It’s time for another game of Symmetry, and today, we’ll go back to the last week of October in 1969 during my first autumn as a dedicated Top 40 listener. We’ll take a look at the top of the chart and then drop down to No. 50.

The top five records in the Billboard Hot 100 released fifty years ago today were:

“I Can’t Get Next To You” by the Temptations
“Hot Fun In The Summertime” by Sly & The Family Stone
“Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies
“Jean” by Oliver
“Suspicious Minds” by Elvis Presley

As most top fives from that season would be, that’s a nice eighteen or so minutes of music. I don’t recall the Temptations’ single getting as much airplay as a No. 1 record would get. And it turns out the record is absent from all the autumn 1969 surveys from the Twin Cities’ KDWB that are offered at the Airheads Radio Survey Archive. And that leaves me wondering how many No. 1 singles over the years failed to reach the station’s survey. Can’t be many.

As to the other four, I recall hearing all of them often and liking them all. My favorite among them is “Suspicious Minds,” which I think is the best post-1950s single Elvis ever released, maybe the best ever. (I’m not going to wade into it today.) And four of the five – all except “Sugar, Sugar” – are among the 3,900 or so on my iPod, meaning they’re still among my current listening.

But how about our other business? What was sitting at No. 50 fifty years ago today? Well, it’s not in the iPod, and it’s not one I recall. It’s “Time Machine” from Grand Funk Railroad, the first Hot 100 hit from the band from Flint, Michigan. It would rise two more spots and peak at No. 48. The band’s first Top 40 hit would be “Closer To Home (I’m Your Captain),” which went to No. 22 in 1970, and the trio would hit No. 1 in September 1973 with “We’re An American Band” and in May 1974 with “The Loco-Motion.”

Here’s “Time Machine.”

No. 41, Forty-One Years Ago

Tuesday, October 15th, 2019

We’re playing Symmetry again today, looking back forty-one years to the autumn of 1978 and seeing what record was at No. 41 at October’s mid-point.

A quick glance at the top five in the Billboard Hot 100 released on October 14, 1978 – forty-one years ago yesterday – shows five records that are familiar but not loved:

“Kiss You All Over” by Exile
“Hot Child In The City” by Nick Gilder
“Boogie Oogie Oogie” by A Taste Of Honey
“Don’t Look Back” by Boston
“Reminiscing” by the Little River Band

I know all of those – though I’m oddly a little fuzzy on the Boston record – but none of them matter much to me. That, I think, is a function of age and busyness. I was twenty-five and working long hours at a job I loved during my first autumn at the Monticello Times. I listened to the radio during some evenings at home and in the car as I drove to and from interviews. But it was background, not foreground. No one at work was saying anything like, “Hey, did you hear the new record by Boston?”

So, none of those five rate very high on any list I might make. All of them are on the digital shelves here, which means I don’t detest any of them. None of them were included in the 228-record Ultimate Jukebox I offered here long ago (and only five records from 1978 were included). Two of them – “Reminiscing” and, oddly, “Boogie Oogie Oogie” – are in the iPod.

So though I didn’t notice it at the time, by the autumn of 1978, music had become far less central to my life than it had been (and far less central than it would, happily, become again).

So let’s get to what was supposed to be our main business today: Checking out the record at No. 41 on that Hot 100 from mid-October 1978. And we fall into instrumental disco weirdness: Parked at No. 41 is “Themes From The Wizard Of Oz” by Meco.

The record was the third by Pennsylvania-born Domenico Monardo to hit the Hot 100: “Star Wars Theme/Cantina Band” had spent two weeks at No. 1 during October 1977, and “Theme From Close Encounters” had peaked at No. 25 in early 1978.

After “Themes From The Wizard Of Oz” peaked at No. 35, Meco would see “Empire Strikes Back (Medley)” go to No. 18 in 1980, and – amid a series of similar but less successful releases (including a couple records tabbed as novelties by Joel Whitburn) – “Pop Goes The Movies (Part One)” would go to No. 35 in 1982.

But hey, it’s fun, it’s got a good beat, it’s easy to dance to . . . and it was 1978.

No. 50, Fifty Years Ago (September 1969)

Wednesday, September 18th, 2019

Around here, we like our game of Symmetry. It gives us an excuse to dig into old Billboard charts and listen to old records (as if we ever lack for reasons to do either of those things anyway). So we’re going to lean on the idea again today, heading back to mid-September of 1969, fifty years ago.

It was the beginning of my junior year of high school, right around the time I got my first Beatles album in almost five years (Abbey Road, on a cassette my sister brought home from the mall), right around the time I began standing on the sidelines of the football field as a manager for the St. Cloud Tech Tigers, and right around the time I first noticed the new violinist in the high school orchestra (whose tale I told long ago).

The RCA radio newly installed in my bedroom was tuned during the early evening to WJON across the tracks and to Chicago’s WLS when I went to bed. And as I listened, I began to learn about music – and things about that music – that my peers had known for, oh, at least five years.

As always, we’ll stop first at the top of the Billboard Hot 100. Here was the Top Ten as of September 20, 1969:

“Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies
“Honky Tonk Women” by the Rolling Stones
“Green River” by Creedence Clearwater Revival
“A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash
“Easy To Be Hard” by Three Dog Night
“I’ll Never Fall In Love Again” by Tom Jones
“Get Together” by the Youngbloods
“Jean” by Oliver
“Little Woman” by Bobby Sherman
“I Can’t Get Next To You” by the Temptations

Now, that’s forty minutes or so of radio bliss. The only one of those that doesn’t immediate play clearly in the radio of my head is the Tom Jones single, a re-release – as we discussed a little more than a month ago – of a 1967 single. The other nine make up a solid vein of AM gold for me.

And I am not at all surprised to find all nine of those records among the 3,900-some on the iPod and thus a part of my current playlist. I talk often about times that were formative for me; given my passion for music, those first months of Top 40 listening fifty years ago were just that.

But let’s go find our target for today, the single parked at No. 50 on the Hot 100 fifty years ago this week. And we come across a record by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles originally released as a B-side: “Here I Go Again.” It would peak at No. 37.

It’s a dreamy tune, perfect for a slow dance. And Smokey’s lyrics, well, as he did so many times, he knew exactly what so many of us were feeling in those days:

Saw you there and your laughter seemed to fill the air
A scent like perfume from your lovely hair
I said that I do adore

My heart said to me, don’t walk head on into misery
Hey, with your eyes wide open can’t you see?
A hurt’s in store just like before

Oh ho ho, but here I go again walking into love
Here I go again never thinking of
The danger that might exist
Disregarding all of this just for you

I ignore the detour sign
I won’t stop until you’re mine
I’m past the point of no return

Girl, you walk by and I said to me, myself and I
Now we’ve got to give it one more try
I know somehow the time is now, right now

Oh whoa, here I go again walking into love
Here I go again walking into love

Here I go, here I go
Here I go, here I go again

It’s probably just as well that I never heard the record fifty years ago.

No. 44, Forty-Four Years Ago

Thursday, August 22nd, 2019

We’re in the mood for some Symmetry again, this time heading back to the summer of 1975, one of the great seasons of my life: I spent it clearing my general ed requirements in preparation for graduation from St. Cloud State in February 1976, casting a wide social net, working half-time on a campus-wide audio-visual equipment inventory with my pal Murl and some other good folks, and generally enjoying life in a way I hadn’t for some months.

So how good was the music I heard in the car, sometimes at home, and a lot of time at Atwood Center as I whiled away free time with other summer members of the The Table? Here’s the Billboard Top Ten from August 23, 1975, forty-four years ago tomorrow:

“Fallin’ In Love” by Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds
“One Of These Nights” by the Eagles
“Get Down Tonight” by K.C. & The Sunshine Band
“Jive Talkin’” by the Bee Gees
“Rhinestone Cowboy” by Glen Campbell
“Why Can’t We Be Friends” by War
“How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)” by James Taylor
“Someone Saved My Life Tonight” by Elton John
“At Seventeen” by Janis Ian
“Please Mister Please” by Olivia Newton-John

That’s a decent set, with only one record that I did not – and still do not – care for. “Why Can’t We Be Friends” sounded kind of stupid to me then, and forty-four years of hearing it on occasion have not changed that opinion. I wasn’t crazy about “Rhinestone Cowboy,” but I like it a lot more now. And the James Taylor record is not nearly my favorite of his, but when it pops up on the radio I don’t reach for the buttons.

The rest are all fine listening, some of them favorites. And nine of the ten – even “Why Can’t We Be Friends” – are on the digital shelves. (The only one that wasn’t, surprisingly, was the Elton John single, an oversight that’s being corrected as I write.)

As to the stricter measure I use – checking to see if tracks show up in the iPod – well, six of those records show up at the moment. Those missing are the records by War, James Taylor, Olivia Newton-John and Elton John (and “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” will be in the iPod by the end of the day).

So that’s seven out of ten that I like hearing yet today, and yet, only one of those records actually says “1975” to me when it comes out of the boom box in the kitchen: “At Seventeen” hung around into the autumn and got a lot of play on the juke box across the room from The Table, so that’s often where my mind goes when I hear it.

But what about our other focus for today? What do we find when we drop down that chart from August 23, 1975, to No. 44? What do we find?

Well, we run into a single from Paul McCartney & Wings that was on its way down the chart after having fallen a few spots short of the Top Ten: “Listen To What The Man Said.”

The record, with Tom Scott on saxophone, peaked at No. 1. (Not No. 13; thanks, Yah Shure.) It’s an immediate earworm and a good listen for a Thursday (and it, too, needs to be added to the iPod).

No. 45, Forty-Five Years Ago

Tuesday, August 20th, 2019

It’s time for another game of Symmetry, this time looking at a Billboard Hot 100 from August 1974. (There were editions of the magazine released on August 17 and August 24 that year; we’re going with the latter edition.) As always, we’ll take a look at the top ten first:

“(You’re) Having My Baby” by Paul Anka with Odia Coates
“The Night Chicago Died” by Paper Lace
“Tell Me Something Good” by Rufus
“Feel Like Makin’ Love” by Roberta Flack
“I Shot The Sheriff” by Eric Clapton
“Waterloo” by ABBA
“Wildwood Weed” by Jim Stafford
“I’m Leaving It (All) Up To You” by Donny & Marie Osmond
“Rock Me Gently” by Andy Kim
“Keep On Smilin’” by Wet Willie

Okay, that starts badly. “(You’re) Having My Baby” is certainly in my list of the ten worst singles, so close to “Seasons In The Sun” territory that I don’t want to think about it much. And while “The Night Chicago Died” is not nearly as awful, it’s still thought of as cringe-worthy around here.

A little further down, we hit two more that don’t get much of my affection: I always thought “Wildwood Weed” was a bad joke gone very wrong, and while Donnie and Marie handled their cover of “I’m Leaving It (All) Up To You” all right, it missed the mark by a little when compared with the 1963 version by Dale & Grace. (And, of course, it didn’t come anywhere near the quality of the 1957 R&B original by Don & Dewey.)

That leaves six records from that August 1974 Top Ten that I generally enjoy, and three of those six – the records by Roberta Flack, Andy Kim, and ABBA – are among the 3,900 or so on the iPod and are thus part of my current listening. (The Rufus record may get added the next time I shuffle things around.)

But our business here is lower in that August 1974 Hot 100, as we check in on the No. 45 record from forty-five years ago. And we find “Sugar Baby Love” by the Rubettes, which was on its way up the chart to No. 37.

When last I chanced on the record not quite seven years ago, I wrote:

The Rubettes were a pop rock sextet from London who put nine singles into the U.K. Top 40 between 1974 and 1977. Their “Sugar Baby Love,” a marvelous pop-rock confection that I don’t ever recall hearing (and that I might have thoroughly disdained at the time), went to No. 1 in the U.K.

The record – the Rubettes’ only entry ever in the Hot 100 – has since made its way onto the digital shelves here, where it had stayed unnoticed (except by my imaginary tunehead Pop, who no doubt grieves that his friend Odd and I are slow to comprehend the record’s greatness). Perhaps I should move it into the iPod.

No. 56, Fifty-Six Years Ago

Thursday, August 1st, 2019

We’re heading into 1963 territory this morning, to the summer between fourth and fifth grade. It was a time when I was still getting used to wearing glasses (and the photographic evidence in the boxes of Dad’s slides shows that I didn’t always wear them, which I don’t recall).

By the time August rolled around, any summer school program I was in had ended; I’m sure I was in one that summer, but I have no memory of it. Earlier summers found me at the Campus Lab School on the St. Cloud State campus, 1964 would find me in an enriched program at Washington Elementary with students from across the city, most of whom I’d know in high school; and summer programs after that would take me to South Junior High and to Tech High School.

But 1963? I don’t remember, which is odd (and a bit disconcerting). And I have a sense that when I look at the music of 1963 – the last summer pre-Beatles in the U.S. – I’ll know the records but not remember many of them from that summer. Here’s the Billboard Top Ten from the first week in August 1963:

“So Much In Love” by the Tymes
“Fingertips (Part 2)” by Little Stevie Wonder
“Surf City” Jan & Dean
“(You’re The) Devil In Disguise” by Elvis Presley
“Wipe Out” by the Surfaris
“Blowin’ In The Wind” by Peter, Paul & Mary
“Easier Said Than Done” by the Essex
“Judy’s Turn To Cry” by Lesley Gore
“Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport” by Rolf Harris
“Just One Look” by Doris Troy

I don’t think we had any of those records in the house although I do remember my sister – three years older than I – picking up Lesley Gore’s “It’s My Party” earlier that year. I probably still have that copy of the record, as all of the 45s from Kilian Boulevard ended up in two metal carrying cases that are around here somewhere. And I vaguely recall hearing “Judy’s Turn To Cry” somewhere, probably from an older kid’s record player somewhere in the neighborhood.

Beyond that, I know I heard “Blowin’ In The Wind” and “Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport” that summer, which is not surprising, as those records were No. 1 and 2, respectively, on what Billboard then called the Middle-Road Singles chart (now called Adult Contemporary) as August began in 1963. (And with only occasional excursions to KDWB by my sister, all radios in our house were tuned to stations that offered records from the Middle-Road Singles chart). And I probably heard “Wipe Out” somewhere, too.

Four of those records are part of my day-to-day listening still, fifty-six years later: “Blowin’ In The Wind,” “Judy’s Turn To Cry,” “Wipe Out,” and “Just One Look” have places in the iPod. That’s more than I expected when I began digging into things this morning.

But now to the second portion of today’s exercise: What sat at No. 56 during the first week of August 1963?

Well, we get a piece of traditional pop that I do not recognize by its title: “Painted, Tainted Rose” by Al Martino. It was the Philadelphia native’s eighth entry in or near the Hot 100; he’d charted earlier in the year with “I Love You Because,” which went to No. 3 on the Hot 100 and topped the Middle-Road Singles chart for two weeks. “Painted, Tainted Rose didn’t do quite as well, peaking at No. 15 on the Hot 100 and spending two weeks at No. 3 on the Middle-Road Singles chart.

It’s a mournful tune sung from the point of view of a judgmental guy whose gal chose the “party life.”

She was a wild and lovely rose
Oh, how I loved her, heaven knows
But though my heart was true, it would never do
Party life was what she chose

Last night I saw my lovely rose
All painted up in fancy clothes
Her eyes had lost their spark, the years had left their mark
She’s just a painted, tainted rose

But though my heart was true, it would never do
Party life was what she chose

Her eyes had lost their spark, the years had left their mark
She’s just a painted, tainted rose