Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain

Posted on by brucehhackett

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” — Vivian Greene

“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” — Bob Marley

And right there, in a nutshell, are two quotes to sum up the best way to look at rain. We can’t control the weather, but we can control our attitude. We had best learn to live with the possibility, the inevitability, that rain might spoil the outdoor wedding reception or postpone the baseball game, but it’ll also feed the farmer’s crops and nurture your own flower garden.

Still, a rainy day has a nagging way of altering our mood if we let it. Take a look at the weather forecast for the next week for the Nashville area, where I live. Some would call that depressing. But there hasn’t been much rain here so far this spring, so it’s needed. We can change our plans and do some indoor activities, or we can slip on some boots and grab an umbrella for a nice invigorating walk in the rain. Maybe even leave the umbrella at home and get gloriously drenched!

Granted, when rain turns to torrents and floods, it can be a big problem. Mostly, though, it makes the eventual sunny days seem all the more welcome in comparison.

Songwriters have known this for a century or more. It’s one of the most covered topics in popular music, and sifting through the voluminous list of songs about rain turned out to be a big job. I chose two dozen songs to feature here, and nearly another two dozen in a group of “honorable mentions.” Taken together in two Spotify playlists included at the end, you’ll find three and a half hours of music as a soundtrack for any rainy day.

As the old song goes, “Into each life, some rain must fall…”

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“Rain,” The Beatles, 1966

This John Lennon track broke new ground in Beatles studio productions as the flip-side of the “Paperback Writer” single during the “Revolver” sessions in the spring of 1966.  In addition to some amazing drum work by Ringo (he called it his favorite bit of drumming on a Beatles tune), the track features some startling backward-tape vocals of the line “If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads” at the fadeout. The lyrics are matter-of-fact about accepting the weather whatever it might happen to be:  “Rain, I don’t mind, /Shine, the weather’s fine, /Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines, /It’s just a state of mind, can you hear me?…”

“Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again,” The Fortunes, 1971

This British harmony beat group hit the US Top Ten in 1965 with “You’ve Got Your Troubles,” and they were the band behind the 1969 Coke commercial theme song, “It’s the Real Thing.”  In 1971, The Fortunes had a #15 hit with “Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again,” an earworm by Tony Macauley that captured the analogy between rain and heartbreak:  “Here comes that rainy day feeling again, and soon my tears they will be falling like rain, /It always seems to be a Monday, leftover memories of Sunday, /Always spent with you until the clouds appeared and took away my sunshine…”

“Heavy Cloud No Rain,” Sting, 1993

Because Sting’s 1990 LP, “The Soul Cages,” was decidedly downbeat in the wake of his father’s death, he said he made a concerted effort for the follow-up to be more optimistic. 1993’s “Ten Summoner’s Tales” is indeed sunnier, with hits like “Fields of Gold” and “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You,” which helped it secure multiple Grammy nominations including Album of the Year. Still, one of the more compelling tracks, “Heavy Cloud No Rain,” talks about the disappointment of unfulfilled expectations: “I asked my baby if there’d be some way, she said she’d save her love for a rainy day, /I look in the sky, but I look in vain, /Heavy cloud but no rain…”

“A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall,” Bob Dylan, 1963

After a tentative debut LP in 1962, Dylan dropped the musical equivalent of a nuclear bomb on an unsuspecting public with “The Freewheeling’ Bob Dylan” in 1963, chock full of stunning original songs that challenged listeners with literary, thought-provoking lyrics never heard before in the popular song arena. “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” was originally interpreted as a warning of nuclear fallout sparked by the Cuban Missile Crisis, but Dylan wrote it several months before that conflict (although it wasn’t released until the spring of 1963). He said, “It’s not atomic rain, it’s just a hard rain…a rain of lies we’re getting in our newspapers. It’s the common destiny of the human being getting thrown off course. It’s all one long funeral song.”

“The Rain Song,” Led Zeppelin, 1973

George Harrison once told Jimmy Page that Led Zeppelin should do more ballads, and Page came up with this seven-minute beauty from the “Houses of the Holy” LP.  Robert Plant, who has said this is one of his favorite recorded vocal tracks, wrote lyrics that examine the variety of emotions we experience as the seasons change, using rain as a metaphor for life’s twists and turns that we must endure:  “Upon us all, upon us all a little rain must fall…it’s just a little rain…”

“I’ll Take the Rain,” R.E.M., 2001

Lead singer Michael Stipe implores us to “celebrate the rain” in this melodic track from R.E.M.’s eighth Top Ten LP, 2001’s “Reveal.”  The Athens, Georgia-based group did well with “I’ll Take the Rain” when it was released as a single in the UK, but it failed to chart here, which is a pity, because it’s a real winner.  The lyrics point out how, sometimes, the rain is the better option:  “You cling to this, you claim the best, if this is what you’re offering, I’ll take the rain…”  

“Rainy Day Man,” James Taylor, 1969

First released on Taylor’s overlooked debut album on Apple Records in 1969, and re-recorded in 1979 on his “Flag” LP, the wistful “Rainy Day Man” offers emotional support in the form of a shoulder to cry on when times are hard. When recently asked to name his five favorite songs of his huge catalog, this was one of the more surprising picks:  “It looks like another fall, your good friends don’t seem to help at all, now when you’re feeling kind of cold and small, just look up your rainy day man…” 

“Alabama Rain,” Jim Croce, 1973

It wasn’t a single and never got much exposure, but “Alabama Rain” is my favorite of Jim Croce’s songs. It evokes such a soft, warm feeling of romance and contentment, the kind of joy where we don’t even mind getting caught in the rain while taking a walk together. It appeared on his “Life and Times” LP in 1973, released only months before his premature death: “Lazy days in mid-July, country Sunday mornings, /Dusty haze on summer highways, sweet magnolia calling, /Now and then I find myself thinking of the days when we were walking in the Alabama rain…”

“Here Comes the Rain Again,” Eurythmics, 1983

Dave Stewart, the musical maestro behind much of the Eurythmics’ catalog, said he wanted to compose “a song that went in and out of melancholy, using minor and major chords.  I think it has a kind of dark beauty.”  A synthesizer-based foundation was augmented by layers of orchestral tracks and Annie Lennox’s strong vocals, and the result was “Here Comes the Rain Again,” a #4 hit in the US in 1983.  The lyrics have an “in and out of melancholy” nature too:  “Here comes the rain again, raining in my head like a tragedy, tearing me apart like a new emotion, /I want to breathe in the open wind, I want to kiss like lovers do…”   

“Early Morning Rain,” Gordon Lightfoot, 1966

Regarded as a national treasure in his native Canada, Lightfoot wrote thoughtful songs that painted vivid pictures, and some of his best early songs in the mid-’60s were recorded by other artists like Peter, Paul & Mary, Ian & Sylvia, Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley, who each tried their hand at the angst-ridden “Early Morning Rain.” It’s one of Lightfoot’s best, with lyrics that capture how a drifter might feel on a rainy morning when he realizes his habit of hopping on freight trains was becoming obsolete in the then-new era of airplane travel:  “This old airport’s got me down, it ain’t no earthly good to me, and I’m stuck here on the ground, cold and drunk as I might be, can’t jump a jet plane like you can a freight train, so I best be on my way, in the early morning rain…”

“Rainy Day, Dream Away/Still Raining, Still Dreaming,” Jimi Hendrix, 1968

Many of the sessions for his “Electric Ladyland” double LP saw Hendrix jamming with a range of guest musicians outside the Experience trio format.  These two companion tracks, which began sides three and four, featured Hendrix and regular bassist Noel Redding collaborating with Buddy Miles on drums, Mike Finnigan on Hammond B3 organ and Larry Faucette on congas. Together they created the feeling that the rain was continuing to fall all day and night during recording.  And hey, as Jimi would say, it’s all good:  “Rainy day, rain all day, ain’t no use in getting uptight, just let it groove its own way, /Let it drain your worries away, lay back and groove on a rainy day…” 

“Let It Rain,” Eric Clapton, 1970

Following his celebrated stints with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, Cream and Blind Faith, Clapton assembled an all-star team of musicians to help him produce his debut solo LP, notably Leon Russell, Stephen Stills, and Delaney Bramlett.  The album’s best song, in my view, is “Let It Rain,” a joyous, gorgeous track with a fantastic solo at the end.  Originally called “And She Rides” with different lyrics, the finished track instead uses words that lovingly celebrate the healing power of rain:  “The rain is falling through the mist of sorrow that surrounded me, /The sun could never thaw away the bliss that lays around me, /Let it rain, let it rain, let your love rain down on me…”

“Song to the Sun/Don’t Let It Rain,” Jefferson Starship, 1976

When the original Jefferson Airplane called it quits in 1972, guitarist/singer/songwriter Paul Kantner teamed up with Grace Slick and recruited guitarist Craig Chaquico, bassist Pete Sears, keyboardist David Freiberg and drummer Johnny Barbata to form a splinter group he called Jefferson Starship. He eventually convinced Airplane co-founder Marty Balin to return to the fold for three LPs in the mid-’70s, one of which, “Spitfire,” included the dynamic track “Don’t Let It Rain,” which could arguably be called an answer to Clapton’s earlier anthem, with words that plead for the rain to stay away:  “Don’t let it rain on me tonight, don’t let it rain, /I need to feel the sun again, please don’t let it rain…”

“I Wish It Would Rain,” The Temptations, 1967

Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong, one of Motown’s most accomplished songwriting/producing teams, worked often with The Temptations. This track from 1967, which featured the gritty lead vocals of David Ruffin before he split for a solo career, did a marvelous job of showing how a heartbroken man can have trouble facing a sunny day, surrounded by happy people:  “Day after day, I stay locked up in my room… my tear-stained face pressed against the windowpane, my eyes search the sky desperately for rain, ’cause raindrops will hide my teardrops… I just wish it would rain…”

“November Rain,” Guns ‘n Roses, 1991

Lead singer Axl Rose allegedly worked on this brilliant power ballad for more than eight years before he finally got the recording he wanted, completed with sweeping orchestral backing and one of guitarist Slash’s best solos.  One of Guns ‘n Roses’ finest tracks by far, “November Rain” is “about not wanting to have to deal with unrequited love,” said Rose. It showed up on the band’s “Use Your Illusion I” LP in 1991, with lyrics which reflect the difficulty of wanting hope but feeling despair:  “Nothing lasts forever, and we both know hearts can change, and it’s hard to hold a candle in the cold November rain…”  

“I Think It’s Going to Rain Today,” Judy Collins, 1966

One of Newman’s most covered compositions is this wistful piece first recorded by Judy Collins on her “In My Life” LP.  There are more than 50 renditions to check out:  Bette Midler, Peter Gabriel, Cass Elliot, UB40, Norah Jones, Joe Cocker, Neil Diamond and Newman himself, to name just a few.  Newman said he wrote it as early as 1963 or 1964, saying “the music is emotional, even beautiful, but the lyrics are not. They’re kind of sophomoric, and a little too maudlin.” I beg to differ; I think the gorgeous melody is embellished by lyrics of powerful empathy:  “Right before me, the signs implore me, help the needy and show them the way, human kindness is overflowing, and I think it’s going to rain today…”

“Mandolin Rain,” Bruce Hornsby and The Range, 1986

Coming from a musically inclined Virginia family, Hornsby studied music, played in club combos and spent time in Los Angeles as a session musician, where he met former Ambrosia bassist Joe Puerta and formed a band he called The Range. Hornsby wrote a strong batch of songs with his brother John that earned a record deal with RCA, and the title song, “The Way It Is,” became a #1 hit in the fall of 1986. The follow-up single, “Mandolin Rain,” which peaked at #4 in early 1987, “is about trying to pull through when so many things remind you of the person you once loved,” he said: “Listen to the mandolin rain, listen to the music on the lake, /Ah, listen to my heart break every time she runs away, /Oh, listen to the banjo wind, a sad song drifting low, /Listen to the tears roll down my face as she turns to go…”

“Purple Rain,” Prince, 1984

Ever since Prince’s riveting performance of this anthem in a downpour at the halftime show of the 2007 Super Bowl, it’s the image I think of whenever I hear it.  He had built a sizable following between 1979-1983, but the release of the album and film “Purple Rain” in 1984 sent his career into the stratosphere.  “When Doves Cry,” “Let’s Go Crazy” and “I Would Die 4 U” were all monster hits for him that year, but the title track, with lyrics drenched in sadness, is probably the signature song of his whole career: “I never meant to cause you any sorrow, I never meant to cause you any pain, I only wanted one time to see you laughing in the purple rain, purple rain…”

“Rain Fall Down,” The Rolling Stones, 2005

After several ho-hum albums in the 1990s, it was a nice surprise to hear Mick Jagger and Keith Richards come up with an instant classic like this one on The Stones’ “A Bigger Bang” album in 2005, a half-century after “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.”  Thanks to Richards’ memorable riff, there’s something a little spooky and relentless about “Rain Fall Down,” and Jagger’s lyrics are full of queasy images that ultimately point toward the relentlessness of rain that never seems to stop:  “And the rain fell down on the cold grey town, and the phone kept ringing, /And we made sweet love… and the phone kept ringing… and the rain… rain… rain…”

“Rainy Day,” America, 1972

America had plenty of commercial hits in their repertoire (“A Horse With No Name,” “Sister Golden Hair,” “Ventura Highway”), but as has often been the case with some artists, I found myself partial to some of the lesser known tracks like “Rainy Day” from their 1972 debut LP. Dan Peek (who wrote it), Dewey Bunnell and Gerry Beckley combined soothing harmonies with intricate acoustic guitars to create the perfect environment for lyrics that point out how inclement weather makes some people want to curl up at home under a warm blanket:  “Whenever it’s a rainy day, I pack my troubles up in my room, /I chase all the clouds away, I get myself back to the womb…”

“Come Rain or Come Shine,” Ray Charles, 1959

Harold Arlen, one of the top composers of pop/jazz standards of the ’30s and ’40s, worked with different lyricists but still ended up with several chart favorites that had weather-related themes (“Stormy Weather,” “Over the Rainbow,” “When the Sun Comes Out”). He teamed up with the legendary Johnny Mercer in 1946 to write “Come Rain or Come Shine” for the Broadway musical “St. Louis Woman,” and it became a modest hit for Margaret Whiting that year, reaching #17 on US pop charts. Since then it has been covered hundreds of times by the likes of Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Barbra Streisand, B.B. King and Eric Clapton, but my favorite is probably the version Ray Charles recorded in 1959. Mercer’s lyrics speak of a love that lasts regardless of what life has in store: “We’ll be happy together, unhappy together, now won’t that be just fine, /The days may be cloudy or sunny, we’re in or out of the money, /But I’m with you always, I’m with you rain or shine…”

“Who’ll Stop the Rain,” Creedence Clearwater Revival, 1970

John Fogerty watched from a dry tent as hundreds of concertgoers at Woodstock danced, huddled and sang naked in the endless deluge that turned the festival grounds into a sea of mud.  As he wrote about that experience weeks later for the Creedence single “Who’ll Stop the Rain,” he realized how he could make the lyrics also have a deeper meaning:  Who will stop the rain of bombs in the Vietnam war, and the rain of bullshit coming from all the politicians in Washington?  “Long as I remember, the rain been comin’ down, /Clouds of mystery pourin’ confusion on the ground, /Good men through the ages tryin’ to find the sun, /And I wonder, still I wonder, who’ll stop the rain?…”

“Red Rain,” Peter Gabriel, 1986

The theme of this brooding opening cut from Gabriel’s “So” LP was inspired by recurring dreams he was having: swimming in his pool while drinking red wine; and bottles falling off a cliff and smashing on impact, sending red liquid everwhere. He had also conceived of a movie in which native villagers were punished for their sins with blood-red rainstorms. Critics praised the song’s descending melody as “a soothing metaphor for an apocalyptic downpour.” While “Sledgehammer,” “Big Time” and “In Your Eyes” got most of the attention, “Red Rain” stalled at #46 in the UK as a single and didn’t chart on the US pop chart but reached #3 on the Mainstream Rock chart as a favorite of FM radio programmers. “I can’t watch anymore, no more denial, /It’s so hard to lay down in all of this red rain coming down, /Red rain is pouring down, red rain is coming down all over me…“

“Riders on the Storm,” The Doors, 1971

In what turned out to be Jim Morrison’s final recorded moment, The Doors used the portentous sounds of a thunderstorm in the introduction and throughout its spooky musical track about a night stalker (“a killer on the road“). “Riders on the Storm” may be the best nighttime driving-in-the-rain song of all time, carried by Ray Manzarek’s jazzy electric piano and Morrison’s haunting vocals.  Lyrics that offer the ominous warning “If you give this man a ride, sweet family will die” firmly underscore the sense of dread oozing from this chilling recording.

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Honorable mentions:

“Fire and Rain,” James Taylor, 1970; “Cold Rain,” Crosby, Stills and Nash, 1977; “Looking at the Rain,” Gordon Lightfoot, 1972; “Caught in the Rain,” Batdorf and Rodney, 1975; “Box of Rain,” Grateful Dead, 1970; “Save It For a Rainy Day,” Stephen Bishop, 1976; “Summer Rain,” Johnny Rivers, 1967; “It’s Raining Again,” Supertramp, 1982; “Fool in the Rain,” Led Zeppelin, 1979; “Rain Rain Rain,” Roxy Music, 1980; “Have You Ever Seen the Rain,” Creedence Clearwater Revival, 1972; “It Never Rains in Southern California,” Albert Hammond, 1972; “It’s Raining,” Peter, Paul & Mary, 1964; “Rhythm of the Rain,” The Cascades, 1962; “Rainy Days and Mondays,” The Carpenters, 1971; “Baby the Rain Must Fall,” Glenn Yarbrough, 1964; “Rainy Night in Georgia,” Brooks Benton, 1970; “Laughter in the Rain,” Neil Sedaka, 1974; “Singin’ in the Rain,” Gene Kelly, 1952; “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” Barbra Streisand, 1968; “It’s Raining Men,” The Weather Girls, 1982; “Love Reign O’er Me,” The Who, 1973.

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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 21 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.

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“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. “On my breaks, I was reading a biography of Vincent Van Gogh, and a learned a great deal about him and his life. I came to the realization that I had to write a song about him that pointed out he wasn’t crazy, as had been alleged. He had a mental 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 out the lyrics on a paper bag.” The heartbreakingly poignant song struck a chord with listeners, reaching #12 on US pop charts (and #1 in England) as the 1972 follow-up single to “American Pie.” Critics were quite taken by “its bittersweet palette of major and minor chords, soothing melody and artful vocal approach.”

“Elvis on Velvet,” Stray Cats, 1992

Emerging from Long Island, NY, in 1980, the Stray Cats were at the forefront of a rockabilly revival movement that grabbed attention in the US and the UK in the early/mid ’80s with singles like “Rock This Town” and “Stray Cat Strut.” After a hiatus in the late ’80s, the band reunited in 1990, and on their 1992 LP “Choo Choo Hot Fish,” they released what many critics call the Stray Cats’ finest moment, “Elvis on Velvet,” a nostalgic nod to The King. In the lyrics, delivered rapid-fire with plenty of power and attitude by Brian Setzer, the narrator pays homage to Presley’s impact while bemoaning the commercialization of his legend exemplified by crass souvenirs like the popular black velvet paintings that glowed in the dark. The song talks about fans who make the pilgrimage to Memphis to visit Presley’s estate: “Elvis on velvet, somehow it makes me mad, /Elvis on velvet, and I can see him tonight up on the road ahead, /Well, Graceland wasteland, right this way ma’am, one low price to pay, /His life, his love, his home, his stuff, his final resting place…”

“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.

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