We will offer our tributes of praise

Posted on by brucehhackett

Six months or so ago, I wrote a piece for this blog about how musical artists have periodically inserted other artists’ names in the lyrics to their songs. Steely Dan’s “Hey Nineteen” mentions Aretha Franklin; Neil Young’s “Long May You Run” cites The Beach Boys; Stephen Bishop’s “On and On” tips his hat to Frank Sinatra; Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” calls out Roy Orbison; and so on. Arthur Conley’s “Sweet Soul Music” makes references to Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, James Brown, Lou Rawls and San & Dave all in the same song. Hell, Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire” mentions more than 50 different people by name!

This week, though, I thought I’d look at this idea again, but from a deeper perspective. There are several dozen examples of tunes by major artists who have written songs whose main subject, even the title, is about a real person — musician, politician, actor, athlete, painter, even inventor. These songs amount to odes, or tributes, to the person’s life or career.

And by and large, they’re damn good songs, not just lame attempts to ride the coattails of the celebrity’s status as a notable historical figure, bonafide legend or pop idol. I submit that these 20 songs about real people — some very familiar, some probably brand new to you — are worth your time and attention. I suspect you’ll enjoy the Spotify playlist at the end.

************************

“James Dean,” The Eagles, 1974

For their second album in 1973, The Eagles released “Desperado,” a sort of outlaw/cowboy concept album, right down to the cover featuring the band as gunslingers. An outtake from that LP that didn’t quite make the cut, “James Dean,” was reworked, beefed up with Don Felder’s wicked guitar licks, and included on their third album, “On the Border.” Written by Glenn Frey and Don Henley with help from Jackson Browne and J.D. Souther, the song paid tribute to the iconic actor from the 1950s who, as the phrase went, “lived fast, died young, and left a beautiful corpse,” dying at age 24 after making a handful of notable films (“Rebel Without a Cause,” “East of Eden”). Dean has proven to be a lasting symbol of rebellion, youthful defiance, and the restless spirit, which The Eagles aspired to embrace: “You were the lowdown rebel if there ever was, even if you never had no cause, /James Dean, you said it all so clean, and I know my life would look all right, if I could see it on the silver screen…”

“Mandela Day,” Simple Minds, 1989

The Irish-based Simple Minds were huge in England and Ireland for many years, and in the mid ’80s, they had a serious run in the US, including the smash #1 hit “(Don’t You) Forget About Me” from the popular film “The Breakfast Club,” and the #10 album “Alive and Kicking,” with its three singles “Alive and Kicking” (#3), “Sanctify Yourself” (#14) and “All the Things She Said” (#28). Four years later, the band released the superb “Street Fighting Years,” but the political bent of some tracks seemed to make it less commercially appealing. Still, one song in particular, “Mandela Day,” became an FM favorite here, offering compelling music and what turned out to be prescient lyrics about Nelson Mandela, the non-violent leader of the Anti-Apartheid Movement in South Africa. Written for a special 1988 tribute concert, the song was released in 1989, only eight months before Mandela was finally released after 33 years in prison.

“Sir Duke,” Stevie Wonder, 1976

Jazz legend Duke Ellington was a titan of the Big Band era from the 1920s well into the 1950s, setting the gold standard as a pianist, composer and bandleader. When he died at age 75 in 1974, Stevie Wonder was among many dozens of musicians who were moved to pay tribute to his impact and widespread influence. As he was recording his magnum opus LP “Songs in the Key of Life” in 1975-76, Wonder came up with “Sir Duke,” an exuberant, horn-driven celebration of the Big Band genre that called out Ellington and other luminaries by name: “Here are some of music’s pioneers that time will not allow us to forget, /For there’s Basie, Miller, Satchmo, and the king of all, Sir Duke, /And with a voice like Ella’s ringing out, there’s no way the band can lose, /You can feel it all over, people…” The song not only reached #1 as a single, it became a new standard for high school marching bands ever since.

“Steve McQueen,” Sheryl Crow, 2002

By the time her fourth album “C’mon, C’mon” was released in 2002, Crow had already won multiple Grammys and bonafide status as a leading female rock artist at age 40. Her original songs included elements of blues, folk, country and pop but were largely considered mainstream rock. In the wake of the unnerving events of 9/11, Crow said she was eager to write songs that were full of positivity, including the album’s first single, the upbeat “Soak Up the Sun,” her sixth Top 20 hit on US pop charts. For her follow-up single, she picked “Steve McQueen,” a tune she wrote as an homage to the “King of Cool” actor she had admired for his passion for freedom, speed and escape. The corresponding music video features Crow racing around in fast cars and motorcycles as McQueen did in his movies “The Great Escape” and “Bullitt.” Even though the track was basically a flop at #88, it nevertheless garnered her a Best Female Rock Vocal Performance Grammy.

“Hurricane,” Bob Dylan, 1976

Rubin “Hurricane” Carter was a middleweight boxer with a bright future in 1966 when he was accused of a triple murder in New Jersey, convicted in 1967 and given a life sentence.  Carter’s autobiography, written in prison in 1974, told the story of alleged trumped-up charges, prosecutorial misconduct, sketchy testimony and a corrupt judge. When Bob Dylan happened to read about the miscarriage of justice, he was sufficiently outraged to write a lengthy ode about it, titled simply “Hurricane.” Clocking in at more than eight minutes, the 11-stanza track became an unlikely single (in abridged form) that reached #33 in early 1976 and was featured on Dylan’s #1 LP “Desire” the same year. Lawyers for Columbia made him alter some of the lyrics to avoid a libel suit, but the words that remained were damning indeed, and Carter’s case was overturned in 1985. “All of Rubin’s cards were marked in advance, the trial was a pig circus, he never had a chance, the judge made Rubin’s witnesses drunkards from the slum, to the white folks who watched, he was a revolutionary bum…” 

“John Sinclair,” John Lennon, 1972

As a Beatle and as a solo artist, Lennon wrote passionately about himself, his feelings and his beliefs, and that usually translated into memorable songs. Following the triumph of 1971’s “Imagine” LP, he and Yoko Ono moved to New York and became very visible celebrities on the anti-war political scene, culminating in the release of “Some Time in New York City,” a bloated double album full of forgettable tracks protesting everything from sexism and racism to injustice and colonialism. There are only two or three songs on the album worth discussing, one of which is “John Sinclair,” a bluesy shuffle featuring Lennon on dobro and vocals. Sinclair was a self-described “jazz poet,” manager of the Detroit band MC5, and a political radical who was arrested in Michigan in 1971 for giving two joints to an undercover cop and sentenced to ten years in jail. Railing against the unduly harsh punishment, Lennon performed “John Sinclair” at a rally, and when marijuana laws were reformed in Michigan, Sinclair was freed, which reduced the impact of the song when it was released six months after the fact.

“Tim McGraw,” Taylor Swift, 2006

Swift was only 17 when she released her self-titled debut LP in 2006, an impactful album of country music tinged with pop and rock elements. It spent 24 weeks atop the country album charts and reached #6 on the pop album charts as well, helped by five singles. The first of those was “Tim McGraw,” a song she wrote about a summer romance that had passed, in which the narrator pleads with her ex-boyfriend to remember her every time he hears her favorite song by this popular country artist. It barely made the pop charts at #40, but reached #6 on country charts and went on to sell a million copies as Swift’s stardom took off. So what did McGraw himself think about all this? In a 2021 interview, he said he had reservations about it — “Have I gotten to that age now to where they’re singing songs about me? Does that mean I’ve jumped the shark a bit or something?” — but he ultimately enjoyed the song and the attention it brought him, and he and Swift have become good friends.

“Candle in the Wind,” Elton John, 1973

Elton John’s longtime lyric-writing partner Bernie Taupin had always been a big Marilyn Monroe fan, and for their landmark “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” LP, they decided to write a tribute — using her given name, Norma Jean Mortenson — about her tortured life in the spotlight (“They set you on the treadmill, and they made you change your name…”) and sordid demise (“the press still hounded you…all the papers had to say was that Marilyn was found in the nude…”).  It reached #11 as a single in the UK in 1974, but it wasn’t a big hit here until 1987 when a live version from his popular “Live in Australia with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra” album peaked at #6 on US pop charts. Then in 1997, Elton and Bernie made the unprecedented move of writing a new set of lyrics to this song to commemorate Lady Diana after her tragic death, turning “Goodbye, Norma Jean” into “Goodbye, England’s Rose”:  “And your footsteps will always fall here along England’s greenest hills, your candle’s burned out long before your legend ever will…”

“Song for Sam Cooke (Here in America),” Dion & Paul Simon, 2020

In 2010, Dion DiMucci (famous for early ’60s hits “Runaround Sue” and “The Wanderer”) was approached by a friend who had read his recently published memoir and suggested that he write a song about an episode he shared about going to a soul dive joint with Sam Cooke in the Deep South in 1962. “Some folks were getting on my case for being there, and Sam stood up for me,” Dion recalled. “He was a real gentleman.” Dion began writing what became “Song for Sam Cooke (Here in America)” but stuck it in a drawer for a few years. In 2019, when he collaborated with other artists on his “Blues With Friends” LP, he worked with Paul Simon to finish the tribute to Cooke, and the two men teamed up to record the song. “Paul saw it like I saw it, as a song about brotherhood and understanding, and that America is about trying to fix things that are wrong.” It was released as a single in 2020, but it failed to chart, although the album was highly praised among blues aficionados. I think it’s extraordinary, and well worthy of your attention.

“Bette Davis Eyes,” Kim Carnes, 1981

You might be as surprised as I was to learn that singer Jackie DeShannon co-wrote this tune in 1974 and recorded it for her “New Arrangement” LP in 1975 in an R&B tempo featuring piano, pedal steel and horns. It remained a deep album track, but in 1981, singer Kim Carnes was encouraged by her producer to record a cover version for her next LP. Carnes didn’t much care for it until her keyboard player, Bill Cuomo, came up with the synthesizer riff that ended up defining Carnes’ reimagining of the song. It became one of the biggest hits of the year, spending nine weeks at #1 and ultimately winning Song of the Year and Record of the Year Grammys. Davis, who was 73 that year, wrote letters to Carnes and DeShannon, thanking them for “making me a part of modern times. My grandson is thrilled about it!”

“Warren Harding,” Al Stewart, 1973

From the very beginning, Al Stewart wove compelling stories in his lyrics, creating interesting characters and developing little vignettes that held the listener’s interest. His biggest hit, 1976’s “Year of the Cat,” is probably the best example of that. Back in 1973, his LP “Past, Present and Future” was a fascinating collection of songs about various people and events in history, from the 16th Century seer Nostradamus to “The Last Day of June 1934.” I’ve always been taken by “Warren Harding,” a thumbnail sketch of America’s 29th President, who served during the so-called Roaring ’20s. Stewart said he found Harding intriguing as a man who seemed to be in over his head in the world’s most challenging position, and ultimately died in office of a heart attack after several scandals: “Warren Gamaliel Harding, alone in the White House, /Watching the sun come up on the morning of 1921… Don’t go down to the docks tonight, the cops are nosing around for the site, /We moved the booze just before daylight, they won’t find it now, it’ll be alright…”

“Harry Truman,” Chicago, 1975

You may have forgotten (or never knew) that Chicago’s first few albums gave evidence of their interest in liberal politics. On the debut LP, there’s “Someday.” On Chicago II, there’s “Poem For the People” and the anti-war “It Better End Soon.” Chicago III included the ecologically minded “Mother” and a tattered US flag as its cover art. The lyrics were sometimes a bit sophomoric, but you got the sense their heart was in the right place. After Richard Nixon resigned in disgrace in 1974, keyboardist/singer Robert Lamm often mentioned in concert how Nixon’s legacy would be increasing Americans’ distrust in government. He drove this point home on their next LP, “Chicago VIII,” with its lead single, “Harry Truman,” which reached #13 on US pop charts in early 1975. Lamb had been reading a biography of Truman and found him to be an inspiring figure by comparison: “America needs you, Harry Truman, /Harry, could you please come home? /Things are looking bad, I know you would be mad to see what kind of men prevail upon the land you love…”

“Moves Like Jagger,” Maroon 5, 2010

The LA-based Maroon 5 came on strong beginning in 2002, scoring three Top Five singles and three Top Ten albums in its first seven years. By 2011, lead singer Adam Levine branched out to become a coach/judge on “The Voice,” and he began a friendly rivalry with singer Christina Aguilera. The two stars combined forces that year to sing “Moves Like Jagger,” an electropop song Levine co-wrote that soared to #1 on US pop charts and in more than a dozen other countries as well. Levine’s lyrics refer to a man’s desire to impress women with his dance moves, citing The Rolling Stones front man as a shining example. Synthesizers and electronic drums dominate the disco-ish arrangement, and critics praised the vocals, particularly Aguilera’s contributions. A music video of the song features archival footage of Mick Jagger dancing, and many would-be singers attempting to mimic his moves. Jagger, certainly one rock’s most dynamic showmen with mesmerizing stage moves, said he was “very flattered” by the song.

“When Smokey Sings,” ABC, 1983

English pop band ABC rode the wave of popularity of the “new pop” movement of the early ’80s, reaching #1 in the UK with their “The Lexicon of Love” LP in 1982. They had a bigger following in their native land and Europe than in the US, but a notable exception was in 1987, when their homage to the great Motown legend Smokey Robinson reached #5 on US pop charts. Adopting the soul groove of Robinson’s work, including the bass line from “Tears of a Clown,” his 1970 hit with The Miracles, “When Smokey Sings” proved to be an irresistible sensation, coincidentally sharing space in the Top Ten simultaneously with Robinson’s “One Heartbeat.” The album version of the song, which appears on ABC’s “Alphabet City” LP, includes lyrical references to Smokey’s contemporaries Luther, Sly, James and Marvin (Vandross, Stone, Brown and Gaye, respectively). When asked what he thought of the tune, Robinson said, “Well, of course, that’s a form of flattery, and I really appreciate it.”

“Springsteen,” Eric Church, 2012

In 2012, country artist Eric Church wanted to tell a story of teenage romance by referencing one of his own favorite musicians (not unlike what Taylor Swift had done six years earlier with her song “Tim McGraw”). Inspired by fond memories of a high school girlfriend and another artist’s song, Church chose to center his new tune instead around Bruce Springsteen, whose work and career he greatly admired. The lyrics to “Springsteen” adroitly allude to The Boss by using a few of his song titles and his habit of painting a picture of listening to oldies on the car radio on a summer evening: “To this day, when I hear that song, I see you standin’ there on that lawn, /Discount shades, store-bought tan, flip flops and cut-off jeans, /Somewhere between that setting sun, ‘I’m on Fire’ and ‘Born to Run,’ you looked at me, and I was done, but we were just getting started… Even though you’re a million miles away, when you hear ‘Born in the USA,’ do you relive those glory days so long ago?…”

“Galileo,” Indigo Girls, 1992

Amy Ray and Emily Saliers were grade-school friends in suburban Atlanta in the 1970s with a mutual interest in music. They went off to different colleges but reunited when they both transferred to Emory University and, when artists like 10,000 Maniacs, Tracy Chapman and Suzanne Vega started making a splash with new strains of folk rock, the two friends joined forces as the Indigo Girls. They charted quite respectably in the late ’80s and early ’90s with a half-dozen albums and a couple of singles, notably “Closer to Fine” in 1989 and “Galileo” in 1992. Saliers wrote the latter track as a tribute to the 17th Century physicist and visionary Galileo Galilei, who played a substantial role in the Scientific Revolution of that period. It was Galileo who helped develop the modern telescope, which in turn supported the findings of Copernicus that the Sun, not the Earth, was the center of the known universe. The lyrics of “Galileo” salute his genius: “How long till my soul gets it right/Can any human being ever reach the highest light/I call on the resting soul of Galileo/King of night vision, king of insight…”

“Brian Wilson,” Bare Naked Ladies, 1992

Formed in 1988 in Toronto, Canada, Bare Naked Ladies was fronted by singer-songwriter-guitarist Steven Page, who had such a passion for music that he would make late-night journeys as a teen to the legendary Sam the Record Man music store in the hip Yonge Street area of town. He wrote about that in “Brian Wilson,” a quirky song about a young man whose life paralleled that of The Beach Boys’ troubled genius composer. Page had idolized Wilson and felt empathy for him during his difficult mental illness challenges, and the lyrics name-check Wilson and his controversial psychologist: “Dr. Landy, tell me you’re not just a pedagogue, /’Cause right now I’m lying in bed just like Brian Wilson did… /I’m lying here, just staring at the ceiling tiles, /and I’m thinking about what to think about, /Just listening and relistening to ‘Smiley Smile’…” The song is one of four hits on Canadian pop charts from the group’s 1992 LP “Gordon,” which didn’t chart in the US but laid the groundwork for greater success here with subsequent releases in the later ’90s and 2000s. Wilson once performed an excerpt of the song in concert.

“The Late Great Johnny Ace,” Paul Simon, 1983

When Paul Simon was just 13, he said he remembered being profoundly affected after reading about the death of early rocker Johnny Ace, who died from an accidental self-inflicted gunshot wound backstage before a show in December 1954. “It was the first violent death that I remember,” Simon said in a 1984 interview. He decided to write about it in 1981 in this darkly creative song that tied Ace’s death to the more recent murders of “two other Johnny Aces” — President John Kennedy and Beatle John Lennon, assassinated in 1963 and 1980, respectively. The song was first performed at the famous “Simon and Garfunkel in Central Park” concert and later became the concluding track on Simon’s 1983 solo LP “Hearts and Bones.” Its concluding passage of moaning violins was written by avant-garde classical composer Phillip Glass.

“Vincent,” Don McLean, 1972

“In the autumn of 1970, I had a job singing in the school system, playing my guitar in classrooms,” recalled Don McLean. “I was reading a biography of Vincent Van Gogh, and learned a lot about him. I came to the realization that I had to write a song that pointed out he wasn’t crazy, as had been alleged. He had an illness, which made it different, in my mind, to the garden variety of ‘going crazy’ because he was rejected by a woman, as was commonly thought. So I sat down with a print of ‘Starry Night’ in front of me and wrote the lyrics out on a paper bag.” The song reached #12 on US pop charts (and #1 in England) as a heartbreakingly poignant follow-up to “American Pie,” and critics were quite taken by “its bittersweet palette of major and minor chords, soothing melody and artful, tranquil approach.”

“Roll Over Beethoven,” Chuck Berry, 1956

When Chuck Berry was coming of age as a teenager in St. Louis, he and his sister Lucy both took music lessons, and they often had to compete for time on the family piano. Lucy was training to become a classical music pianist, while Chuck was more self-taught, preferring what he then called “rough-and-ready music that made me want to dance.” The hybrid country/blues/gospel genre that would soon be called “rock and roll” inspired him to write his own songs, including “Maybellene,” “Thirty Days,” “Rock and Roll Music” and “Johnny B Goode.” Perhaps his most creative tune, especially lyrically, was “Roll Over Beethoven,” in which he suggested that the new rock and roll was pushing classical music aside. Citing Ludwig van Beethoven and Pyotr Tchaikovsky in the lyrics, Berry produced an anthem, which critics called “a rock & roll call to arms, declaring a new era.” It peaked at #2 on R&B charts in 1956 (#29 on pop charts), and was also a regular on the Beatles’ concert setlist during 1964.

*************************

And our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes

Posted on by brucehhackett

It was more than a century ago when President Woodrow Wilson declared the second Sunday of May to be Mother’s Day, a national holiday set aside to honor mothers, motherhood, maternal bonds and the influence of mothers in society. Mom, after all, is “the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world,” said Anna Jarvis, the Suffragette-era activist who spearheaded the move for an official Mother’s Day.

This weekend, my mother-in-law, my wife and my two daughters — a quartet of exemplary mothers — have convened in their home town of Cleveland to celebrate the holiday together. Between them, they represent 107 years of motherhood — the fierce devotion, selfless sacrifice, kind patience and unconditional love that we look for and come to expect from mothers everywhere. In recognition of their reunion, I have chosen to resurrect a favorite post (with a new wrinkle or two) that features a mixed bag of 16 songs about mothers. In genres from hard rock to country, from Top 40 pop to soul, mothers have served as a fairly frequent topic for songwriters of all kinds.

There are a few tunes about mothers that are not what you’d call heartwarming. John Lennon’s harrowing 1970 track titled simply “Mother” bemoans their distant relationship during his childhood and grieves her death when he was just a teen. On their “Synchronicity” LP, The Police also released a song called “Mother” that painted her as an inconvenience: “The telephone is ringing, /Is that my mother on the phone? /The telephone is screaming, /Won’t she leave me alone?…” Queen has a song entitled “Tie Your Mother Down” that, while thankfully not espousing bondage, is about a teen couple callously wanting to keep Mom constrained long enough for them to fool around uninterrupted.

There’s a place for such songs, I suppose, but not here, not now.

No, we’re going to turn our attention to more positive stuff, songs that generally celebrate a mother’s benign influence and knack for practical advice. My selections adopt a generally appreciative attitude toward her, some with humor, some with honor and love, and maybe with a touch of constructive criticism. I think the Spotify playlist found at the end will be well received by those who choose to play it as a soundtrack for your weekend celebration. For completists, there’s a second playlist with “honorable mention” selections.

Happy Mother’s Day!

************************

“Your Mother Should Know,” The Beatles, 1967

This track was one of the half-dozen Paul McCartney sing-song numbers recorded by The Beatles in their final three years that John Lennon derisively referred to as “Granny music” (songs that your grandparents would like).  Paul said he wrote it on a harmonium in his London home when Liverpool relatives were visiting, inspired by the kinds of songs they used to sing in the parlor at Christmastime. It looked good in a scene in the band’s experimental film “Magical Mystery Tour” with the foursome descending a grand staircase in white tuxedos.  Musically, it’s rather slight, but it has a nice sentiment that Dear Old Mom should love: “Let’s all get up and dance to a song that was hit before your mother was born, /Though she was born a long long time ago, Your mother should know…”

“That’s All Right Mama,” Elvis Presley, 1954

In one of his earliest recording sessions, Elvis and his combo were messing around with a speeded-up version of this old Arthur Crudup blues tune.  Producer Sam Phillips was immediately struck by it and concluded it was the “blues meets country” sound he’d been looking for, and it ended up as Presley’s first single and, many claim, one of the first rock and roll songs ever. With only minimal distribution or promotion, it didn’t chart nationally but reached #4 on local Memphis charts. Fifty years later in 2004, its re-release reached #4 in the UK. In Crudup’s lyrics, the narrator sings: “Mama she done told me, /Papa done told me too, /’Son, that gal you’re foolin’ with, /She ain’t no good for you,’ /But that’s all right, that’s all right, /That’s all right now, mama, anyway you do…”

“Mother,” Kacey Musgraves, 2018

Of the half-dozen songs I found entitled “Mother,” this recent bauble by Kacey Musgraves stands out. Less than 90 seconds long, it nevertheless packs a punch about how much we can miss our moms when we’re not with them often enough. “I was missing my mom,” Musgraves explained, “and I started thinking about the cycle of mothers and the fact that I was sitting there in Tennessee missing my mom who was sitting there in Texas missing her mom. It just goes on and on.” It’s a tender piano-based ballad, a vulnerable moment tucked into the bounty of great songs that make up “Golden Hour,” Musgrave’s triumphant 2018 Album of the Year Grammy winner.

“Mama Told Me Not to Come,” Three Dog Night, 1970

Randy Newman, one of the more celebrated songwriters and film composers of his generation, came up with this tune as part of his 1970 debut release, “12 Songs.”  He didn’t achieve much commercial success as a recording artist, but his songs often did well in the hands of others.  Three Dog Night had one of the biggest radio hits of 1970 with their version of Newman’s “Mama Told Me (Not to Come),” which features one of his typically sardonic lyrics about a guy who is uncomfortable attending drug parties and realizes he should’ve listened to his mother’s advice:  “I seen so many things I ain’t never seen before, /Don’t know what it is, I don’t wanna see no more, /Mama told me not to come, /Mama told me not to come, /She said, ‘That ain’t the way to have fun, son’…”

“Your Mama Don’t Dance,” Loggins and Messina, 1972

Jim Messina recalled his home environment this way: “My stepfather was into country. He was an Ernest Tubbs/Hank Snow kind of guy. But my mom loved Elvis, and Ricky Nelson, and R&B stuff. She was shy, though, and didn’t really dance much. So the song’s title, first line and chorus were based on that experience I had growing up in that household.” He fleshed it out with references to curfews and drive-in movies, and “Your Mama Don’t Dance” ended up reaching #4 on US pop charts in late 1972 as Loggins and Messina’s biggest chart hit: “The old folks say that you gotta end your date by ten, If you’re out on a date and you bring it home late, it’s a sin, /There just ain’t no excuse and you know you’re gonna lose, /You never win, I’ll say it again, /And it’s all because your mama don’t dance and your daddy don’t rock and roll…”

“Mama Said,” The Shirelles, 1961

The Shirelles, a New Jersey-based trio who became one of the early “girl group” successes, had several classic singles during the 1960-1963 period: “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” “Dedicated to the One I Love,” “Soldier Boy,” “Baby It’s You,” “Foolish Little Girl.” One of their best was “Mama Said,” written by Willie Denson and Luther Dixon, which peaked at #4 as their third consecutive Top Five hit. Its lyrics reinforced the wisdom of a mother’s warning about how young love can knock you off your feet: “I went walking the other day, /Everything was going fine, /I met a little boy named Billy Joe, /And then I almost lost my mind, /Mama said there’ll be days like this, there’ll be days like this, my mama said…” The song inspired John Lennon’s “Nobody Told Me” (1980) and Van Morrison’s “Days Like This” (1995).

“New Mama,” Stephen Stills, 1975

The testy but respectful relationship that Stills has had with compadre Neil Young over the years sometimes manifested itself in cover versions. Stills has recorded Young’s “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” and “The Loner,” and in 1975 on the “Stills” LP, he cut a faithful rendition of “New Mama,” a gentle ode to new motherhood which had appeared on Young’s 1973 album “Tonight the Night.” Stills used veterans Russ Kunkel, Lee Sklar and Joe Lala on drums, bass and percussion, respectively, with newcomer Donnie Dacus on guitar and Firefall’s Rick Roberts on vocal harmonies, ultimately beefing up the arrangement compared to Young’s stripped down original. It’s an overlooked track on an underrated album.

“Mother and Child Reunion,” Paul Simon, 1972

In 1971, eager to begin his solo career, Simon was in a Chinese restaurant in New York City one night when he was amused to see a chicken-and-egg dish on the menu creatively called Mother and Child Reunion.  “What a great song title,” he thought, and began writing a song that addressed the sometimes fickle nature of the mother-child relationship. Enamored by the strains of Jamaican reggae, he incorporated the intriguing rhythms into the song’s structure, and by early 1972, he had his first solo Top Ten hit. The lyrics describe the “strange and mournful day” when the mother (the chicken) and the child (the egg) are reunited on a dinner plate: “Though it seems strange to say, /I never been laid so low, /In such a mysterious way, /And the course of a lifetime runs over and over again…”

“Mama’s Pearl,” Jackson 5, 1970

The Jackson 5’s fifth single was originally entitled “Guess Who’s Makin’ Whoopee (With Your Girlfriend),” but the folks at Motown intervened, thinking it would be inappropriate for such overt thoughts to be coming out of 12-year-old Michael’s mouth. Producer Deke Richards rewrote a few lyrics and changed the title to “Mama’s Pearl,” and it ended up reaching #2 in early 1971. The track still retaining the lyrical idea that the boy wished his sheltered girlfriend would loosen up and move beyond the making-out stage:  “We kiss for thrills, then you draw the line, /Oh baby, /’Cause your mama told you that love ain’t right, /But don’t you know good loving is the spice of life, /Mama’s pearl, let down those curls, /Won’t you give my love a whirl, /Find what you been missing, ooh ooh now, baby…”

“Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” Willie Nelson & Waylon Jennings, 1978

In 1978, Nelson and Jennings, both seasoned veterans of country music, were each riding high with a string of #1 albums in 1975-1977. They were good friends and had performed together on occasion, so they chose to collaborate on “Waylon & Willie,” which not only sat at #1 on country album charts for three months, it reached #12 on pop charts as well. A big reason for that was the success of the single, “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” with lyrics that urged mothers everywhere to raise their children to be “doctors and lawyers and such” instead of cowboys, because “they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone, even with someone they love…”  The track appeared in a scene from the 1979 Jane Fonda-Robert Redford film “The Electric Horseman.”

“Mama Kin,” Aerosmith, 1973

Emerging from the smoky rock clubs of Boston in 1973, Aerosmith launched their career with their self-titled debut album, which flopped, stalling at #166 on US album charts. Some critics dismissed them as “a K Mart version of The Rolling Stones.” By 1976, after the triumph of their next three LPs, the debut album re-entered the charts and peaked at #21, thanks to the tardy success of “Dream On.” The first single, “Mama Kin,” never even charted but became a popular live song at Aerosmith concerts over the years. Its composer, vocalist Steven Tyler, says the lyrics are essentially about “the importance of staying in touch with your family, your roots, your ‘Mama Kin.’ Keeping in touch with mama kin means keeping in touch with the old spirits that got you there in the first place.”

“For a Thousand Mothers,” Jethro Tull, 1969

Tull’s highly praised and popular second album, 1969’s “Stand Up,” offers an eclectic smorgasbord of rock, blues, folk and jazz influences, with Ian Anderson providing the lyrics from fictional scenarios, occasionally mixed with biographical anecdotes or experiences from his personal life. Songs like “Back to the Family” and “For a Thousand Mothers” described Anderson’s relationship with his parents at the time, alternately loving and tempestuous. The latter tune took his mother and father to task for their lack of emotional support of his musical dreams: “Did you hear mother? Saying I’m wrong, but I know I’m right, /Did you hear father? Calling my name into the night, saying I’ll never be what I am now, /Telling me I’ll never find what I’ve already found, /It was they who were wrong, and for them here’s a song…”

“Mama Lion,” Crosby and Nash, 1975

In 1969-70, Graham Nash had had an intense relationship with Joni Mitchell, and they both later wrote songs about it (Joni’s “Willy” and “My Old Man,” Graham’s “Our House” and “Simple Man”). In 1972, Joni wrote “See You Sometime,” which includes the line, “I run in the woods, /I spring from the boulders like a mama lion.” As he was writing songs for “Wind on the Water,” Nash’s 1975 LP with periodic collaborator David Crosby, he came up with “Mama Lion,” which takes a sobering look at the romantic relationship’s aftermath, based on Mitchell’s earlier tune: “Mama lion, mama lion, I’m starting to sink, /Beneath the sunshine and the icicles, and the things that you think, /There’s a hole in my destiny, and I’m out on the brink, /Mama lion, mama lion…”

“Mother’s Little Helper,” The Rolling Stones, 1966

As the recreational use of mind-altering drugs like marijuana and LSD began increasing in the mid-’60s, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards couldn’t help but notice the hypocrisy of parents who criticized the practice while secretly taking amphetamines and tranquilizers to boost their energy or calm them down. They co-wrote “Mother’s Little Helper,” a phrase some moms used as code to describe their own hushed-up vice: “And though she’s not really ill, there’s a little yellow pill, she goes running for the shelter of a mother’s little helper, and it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day…” The song peaked at #8 in 1966 as The Rolling Stones’ 12th single. Richards and Brian Jones played altered 12-string guitars to mimic the sound of a sitar, one of several Indian instruments then in vogue.

“Stacy’s Mom,” Fountains of Wayne, 2003

This power pop tune from the early 2000s straddles the line between cringey and humorous. Adam Schlesinger, one of Fountain of Wayne’s two songwriters, said the song was inspired by a middle school friend of his who confessed he had a mad crush not on Schlesinger’s mom but on his grandmother! “I told him, ‘Hey, you’re stepping over the line,’ but at that point in life, I wouldn’t put it past anyone. So I tried to strike a balance between humor and personality. I was thinking about the whole Mrs. Robinson thing, and. musically, we were going for a Cars feel.” The song reached #21 on US pop charts and had a very popular music video that used comedic scenes to depict the boy’s attempts to get closer to his girlfriend’s mother.

“Tell Mama,” Etta James, 1968

Written and recorded by Clarence Carter as “Tell Daddy” in 1967, this tune was retitled “Tell Mama” for Etta James to sing when Muscle Shoals Studios producer Rick Hall took charge of the recording session. James objected at first, reluctant to be cast as an Earth Mother, “the gal you come to for comfort,” but it turned out to be her biggest hit on the US pop charts, reaching #23 (and #10 on R&B charts). Over a spirited, horn-driven arrangement, James sings about a young man who’s betrayed by his girl, after which his mother reaches out to give him some TLC: “She would embarrass you anywhere, /She’d let everybody know she didn’t care… /Tell Mama all about it, /Tell Mama what you need, /Tell Mama what you want, /And I’ll make everything all right…”

*******************************

Honorable mentions:  

“Mama Gets High,” Blood Sweat & Tears, 1971;  “Mother,” Pink Floyd, 1979;  “Crazy Mama,” J.J. Cale, 1972;  “That Was Your Mother,” Paul Simon, 1986;  “Sweet Mama,” The Allman Brothers, 1975;  “Mother,” Danzig, 1988; “Motorcycle Mama,” Neil Young and Nicolette Larson, 1978;  “Never Tell Your Mother She’s Out of Tune,” Jack Bruce, 1969; “Mother Goose,” Jethro Tull, 1971;  “Momma,” Bob Seger, 1975;  “Mother,” The Police, 1983; “Mother Nature’s Son,” The Beatles, 1968;  “Mama,” Genesis, 1983;  “Look What They’ve Done to My Song, Ma,” The New Seekers, 1970;  “Mother,” Chicago, 1971;  “Mother Freedom,” Bread, 1972; “Good Mother,” Jann Arden, 1994; “Mothers Talk,” Tears For Fears, 1985;  “Mother,” John Lennon, 1970; “Tie Your Mother Down,” Queen, 1976; “Tough Mama,” Bob Dylan, 1974;  “Mamma Mia,” ABBA, 1975.

********************************