So I went looking for songs with “Friday” in their titles, and there were about twenty of those in the RealPlayer. Some were obvious, like “Friday On My Mind” by the Easybeats. And then I spotted “Friday’s Child” by Nany Sinatra, a 1966 release on Reprise.
As the tune played, I checked Joel Whitburn’s Top Pop Singles: The record hit the Billboard Hot 100 in early July of 1966, the follow-up to “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’,” which went to No. 1 in February of that year, and to the No. 7 hit from spring of that year, “How Does That Grab You, Darlin’?”
“Friday’s Child,” written and produced by Lee Hazelwood (who was either Nancy Sinatra’s Svengali or her Henry Higgins), didn’t fare nearly as well, topping out at No. 36. That’s not surprising, as it’s an odd and unsettling piece of work:
Friday’s child hard luck is her brother Friday’s child her sister’s misery Friday’s child her daddy they call hard times Friday’s child that’s me
Friday’s child born a little ugly Friday’s child good looks passed her by Friday’s child makes something look like nothing Friday’s child am I, yeah
Friday’s child never climbed no mountain Friday’s child she ain’t even gonna try Friday’s child whom they’ll forget to bury Friday’s child am I
Friday’s child am I
Sinatra’s version, perhaps not surprisingly, turns out to be a cover. Hazelwood recorded the song himself in March 1965, according to the website Second Hand Songs, and used it as the title track for his own album in 1965. The album didn’t chart, and if there were any singles pulled from the album, they didn’t chart either.
Hazelwood’s version of the song is a little busier than Sinatra’s but is disquieting, too, though perhaps a little less so:
I’m gonna fire up the iPod and let it do the work this morning. Many of the 2,000 or so tunes in the device are familiar, but sometimes the familiar tends to get ignored around here. So off we go:
First up is“Be Easy” by Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, a 2007 joint that, like most of Jones’ catalog, sounds as if it could have come out of Memphis forty years earlier. The track comes from 100 Days, 100 Nights, Jones’ third release and the first one I ever heard. Six of her albums with the Dap-Kings are on the shelves here along with a couple of one-off recordings. One of those one-offs, a cover of the First Edition’s 1967 hit, “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In),” caught the ear of my pal Schultz when he was here a few weeks ago, and he spent a few moments jotting down the titles of Jones’ CDs for future reference.
Then we jump back in time to 1971, when Ten Years After’s “I’d Love To Change The World” went to No. 40. When this one popped up on the car radio a couple of years ago, I wrote, “I was once again bemused by the ‘Tax the rich, feed the poor, until there are no rich no more’ couplet. I also considered – not for the first time – about how unacceptable the reference to ‘dykes and fairies’ would be today. Social change happens glacially, but it does happen.” Even with those considerations, it’s still a pretty good record.
And we do get some Memphis R&B: “If You’re Ready (Come Go With Me)” by the Staple Singers from 1973. The slightly funky and sometimes propulsive record went to No. 9, one of three Top Ten hits for the singers, and it spent three weeks at No. 1 on the R&B chart. I didn’t really get the Staple Singers back then – too much other stuff crowding my ears, I guess – but they’re well-represented these days on both the vinyl and digital files, and “If You’re Ready” is one of my favorite tracks of theirs.
From there, we head into the mid-1990s and find a cover of Billie Holliday’s version of “I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance (With You)” as performed by the late Etta James. The track comes from James’ 1994 album Mystery Lady – Songs of Billie Holiday. I can’t find any fault with the song selection, with the classic pop arrangements on the album, or with James’ performances, but there’s something about the entire project that leaves me a little cold. It’s a little odd: It’s like the parts are all fine but just don’t fit together. “I Don’t Stand . . .” is probably the best track on the album, and it’s nice and all, but ultimately kind of empty. That one may not stay on the iPod too much longer.
Somewhere along the line, I came across a huge pile of work by the late Lee Hazlewood, ranging from the early 1960s all the way to 2006, a year before his death. One of the more idiosyncratic folks in the pop music world, Hazlewood kind of fascinates me. And this morning, we get Hazlewood and Ann-Margret gender-flipping and covering Waylon Jennings’ No. 2 country hit from 1968 with “Only Mama That’ll Walk The Line” from the 1969 album The Cowboy & The Lady. Despite my affection for Hazlewood’s work, the limp performance by Ann-Margret means that this is another track that’s likely not going to remain long in the iPod. Linda Ronstadt’s superior version from the same year is already in the device, and that one should be the only one I need.
And we close with one of my favorite melancholy tracks, “Scudder’s Lane,” by the New Jersey band From Good Homes. Found on the group’s 1993 album, Hick-Pop Comin’ At Ya!, the song tells a tale familiar and yet unique. I’ve posted the lyrics here before, but they’re worth another look:
Scudder’s Lane
me and lisa used to run thru the night thru the fields off scudder’s lane we’d lay down and look up at the sky and feel the breeze, thru the trees and I’d often wonder how long would it take to ride or fly to the dipper in the sky
as I drove back into hainesville I was thinking of the days when my dreams went on forever as I ran thru the fields off scudder’s lane
I stayed with my love lisa thru the darkness of her days she walked into the face of horror and I followed in her wake and I often wonder how much does it take ’til you’ve given all the love That’s in your heart and there’s nothing in its place
as I drove back into hainesville I was thinking of the days when my dreams went on forever as I ran thru the fields off scudder’s lane
i’m afraid of the momentum that can take you to the edge of a cliff where you look out and see nothing and you ask it that all there is
still I drove back out of hainesville and I asked myself again will there ever come a day when you drive back home to stay could you ever settle down and be a happy man in one of the houses that they’re building thru the fields off scudder’s lane