In the morning when you rise

Over my six-plus decades of collecting music, I have taken great pleasure in compiling mixed tapes, mixed CDs and Spotify playlists that address different subject matters and moods.

Around about 1980, I assembled what turned out to be one of my all-time favorites: “Morning Songs.” The 90-minute cassette included two dozen tunes that used the word “morning” in the titles. There were mellow songs for when you first wake up, and a few more uptempo tracks for after your second cup of coffee.

38-morning-has-broken

I recently revisited the topic by diving into the archives, and I came up with a new list of songs about morning, mostly from the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. If you Google the topic, you’ll find upwards of 150 songs that mention “morning” in the title, but I’ve narrowed it down to 20 to share here, plus a few more “honorable mentions” just for fun.

Wherever you might find yourself this particular morning, I hope this soundtrack will serve you well as you start your day.

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

“Morning Morgantown,” Joni Mitchell, 1970

There are several small cities in the U.S. named Morgantown, most notably in West Viriginia, and I have no idea if Mitchell was referring to any of them in particular or just a town she imagined when she wrote this delightful piece that opens her 1970 LP “Ladies of the Canyon.” The point is, she finds a way to create a warm portrait of a village where everyone greets the day with love and kindness: “When morning comes to Morgantown, the merchants roll their awnings down, the milk trucks make their morning rounds in Morning Morgantown…”

“To the Morning,” Dan Fogelberg, 1972

At the beginning of Fogelberg’s career, he moved from his native Illinois to Nashville to record his first album with producer Norbert Putnam, who added nice touches of cellos and strings to some of the tracks.  Although mostly ignored at first, the “Home Free” album eventually sold a million copies after his career took off in the late ’70s.  This gorgeous song was the album’s memorable opening track:  “Watching the sun, watching it come, watching it come up over the rooftops, cloudy and warm, maybe a storm, you can never quite tell from the morning, and it’s going to be a day, there is really no way to say ‘no’ to the morning…”

“Early Morning Rain,” Peter, Paul & Mary, 1965

Canadian legend Gordon Lightfoot made his mark in the U.S. as a songwriter before emerging later as a successful singer as well.  One of his first songs to make the charts here was “Early Morning Rain,” in a gorgeous rendition by Peter, Paul & Mary.  Lightfoot deftly conveys the loneliness of being broke and homesick:  “In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand, with an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand, now I’m a long way from home, and I miss my loved ones so, in the early morning rain with no place to go…”

“Morning Has Broken,” Cat Stevens, 1971

In 1931, English poet Eleanor Farjeon was asked to compose lyrics to the traditional Scottish tune “Bunessan” to create a hymn that gives thanks to the new day.  By 1971, Cat Stevens decided to record the gentle piece as “Morning Has Broken,” with piano accompaniment by Rick Wakeman.  It became a #6 hit in early 1972, and it’s still included in church services worldwide:“Morning has broken like the first morning, blackbird has spoken like the first bird, praise for the singing, praise for the morning, praise for them springing fresh from the world…”  

“Good Morning, Heartache,” Billie Holiday, 1946

Songwriter Irene Higginbotham and lyricist Ervin Drake teamed up to write this jazz standard in 1946, and the late great Billie Holliday recorded it that same year.  More than 50 other artists have covered the song, from Sam Cooke and Etta James to Natalie Cole and Tony Bennett, and Diana Ross’s version in the 1972 biopic “Lady Sings the Blues” is the best known, but I’ll take Holiday’s original any day.  What a fine lyric about waking up with the blues:  “Good morning, heartache, here we go again, good morning, heartache, you’re the one that knew me when, might as well get used to you hanging around, good morning, heartache, sit down…”

“Til the Morning Comes,” Neil Young, 1970

“I’m gonna give you ’til the morning comes, ’til the morning comes, I’m only waiting ’til the morning comes, ’til the morning comes…”  More a tune fragment than a bonafide song, this track lasts only 1:17 and finishes side one of Young’s wonderful 1970 LP “After the Gold Rush.”  The album was recorded in Young’s Topanga Canyon house with help from musicians from his periodic backing band Crazy Horse, plus Stephen Stills on vocals and an 18-year-old Nils Lofgren handling piano duties.

“Sunday Morning Coming Down,” Johnny Cash, 1970

In 1969 Kris Kristofferson wrote this classic hangover song for country artist Ray Stevens, but it’s Johnny Cash who recorded the definitive version in 1970 for his live album from “The Johnny Cash Show.”  It’s a lonely piece that explores how we all search for some sort of self-fulfillment but sometimes end up alone trying to cope with the effects of the night before:  “Well, I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt, and the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one for dessert, then I fumbled in my closet and found my cleanest dirty shirt, and stumbled down the stairs to face the day…”

“Lazy Mornin’,” Gordon Lightfoot, 1972

Lightfoot reigns as perhaps Canada’s best-ever songwriter, with well over 250 songs to his credit.  His lyrics paint vivid pictures of life and love, work and play, tough times and carefree moments.  From his 1972 LP “Old Dan’s Records” is a favorite of mine called “Lazy Mornin’,” which captures the gentle feeling that often strikes us upon awakening:  “Another lazy mornin’, no need to get down on anyone, my son, coffee’s in the kitchen, woman on the run, no need to get bothered, I’ll think about Monday when Monday comes…”

“A Beautiful Morning,” The Rascals, 1968

Continuing the theme of sunny optimism that marked their previous #1 hit “Groovin,” songwriters Felix Cavaliere and Eddie Brigati of The Young Rascals came up with the joyous “A Beautiful Morning,” which became a big hit in April 1968, perhaps the happiest hippie anthem in a tumultuous year that needed all the good vibes it could get: “It’s a beautiful morning, I think I’ll go outside for a while, and just smile, just take in some clean fresh air, boy, no sense in staying inside if the weather’s fine…”

“Angel of the Morning,” The Pretenders, 1995

“If morning’s echo says we’ve sinned, it was what I wanted now, and if we’re victims of the night, I won’t be blinded by the light, just call me angel of the morning, angel, just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby…”  This dramatic song, written by Chip Taylor about a woman who felt betrayed but defiant after a one-night stand, was originally a #7 hit back in 1968 for Merilee Rush.  Then Judy “Juice” Newton had the biggest hit of her career with her remake of “Angel,” which peaked at #4 in 1981.  I happen to think the version recorded by The Pretenders for use in a 1995 episode of “Friends” was better than either of those, thanks to a stellar delivery by Chrissie Hynde.

“Touch Me in the Morning,” Diana Ross, 1973

“If I’ve got to be strong, don’t you know I need to have tonight when you’re gone? /Until you go, I need to lie here, and think about the last time that you’ll touch me in the morning…”. This bonafide classic was the first success for songwriter Michael Masser, who collaborated with seasoned lyricist Ron Miller to score a #1 hit. Ross, who had young children at the time, preferred recording in all-night sessions, and this track proved especially challenging for the Motown diva before she finally nailed the take she wanted at 5 a.m. as the sun rose.

“Sometime in the Morning,” The Monkees, 1967

Brill Building tunesmiths like Neil Diamond, Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart, and Gerry Goffin & Carole King were among the songwriters Don Kirshner selected to feed material to The Monkees, the made-for-TV pop group. Goffin and King would later provide the group with their #3 hit “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” but before that, they came up with this sublime melody and lyric as an album track for their second LP, “More of The Monkees.” The words capture the feeling a man feels when he’s been taking his woman for granted until he sees how special she really is: “Sometime in the morning, a simple thought may occur to you, /And you hold her, and tell her all the things you never told her, /Now in her childlike eyes, you see the beauty there…”

“Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,” Muddy Waters, 1964

Written by Sonny Boy Williamson back in 1937, this blues standard has been recorded by dozens of artists in the years since, from The Yardbirds to Van Morrison, from Johnny Winter to Widespread Panic, from Paul Butterfield to Huey Lewis.  I really like the version the late blues titan Muddy Waters recorded in 1964 on his only all-acoustic album, “Muddy Waters, Folk Singer.”  I love the tune, but frankly, the lyrics sound more than a little unsavory today:  “Good morning little schoolgirl, can I go home with you, I’ll tell your mother and your father that I’m a little schoolboy too…”

“Meet Me in the Morning,” Bob Dylan, 1975

This simple blues tune in five verses is one of 10 superb tracks that made up Dylan’s 1975 masterpiece album “Blood on the Tracks.”  They say that misery and heartbreak are excellent muses for songwriters, and this album is proof of that.  At the time, Dylan was bemoaning the breakup of his marriage to Sara Lownes, and the lyrics to “Meet Me in the Morning” reflect that loss:  “They say the darkest hour is right before the dawn, but you wouldn’t know it by me, every day’s been darkness since you’ve been gone…”    

“When the Morning Comes,” Daryl Hall and John Oates, 1973

The Philadelphia duo became superstars in the early 1980s, but first Hall and Oates were struggling artists producing soft rock and blue-eyed soul in 1971-72. Their second LP, 1973’s “Abandoned Luncheonette,” included the gem “She’s Gone” (a hit upon re-release in 1976), and also a few other beauties like “Las Vegas Turnaround” and “When the Morning Comes”: “Now I’m out in the cold, and I’m getting old, standing here waiting on you, but it’ll be all right when the morning comes…”

“Morning Dew,” Duane & Gregg Allman, 1968

A Canadian folk musician named Bonnie Dobson wrote this thought-provoking song in 1961 about a man and woman who survive a nuclear apocalypse: “Walk me out in the morning dew, no, there is no more morning dew, because what they’ve been sayin’ all these years has come true, it had to happen, you know, now there is no more morning dew…” The Grateful Dead included it on their first record in 1967, and probably the best known version is on Jeff Beck’s 1968 debut LP “Truth,” with vocals by a young Rod Stewart. But I’m partial to the version laid down by Duane and Gregg Allman for a shelved album that never saw release until 1972 after The Allman Brothers Band had become stars.

“Blue Morning, Blue Day,” Foreigner, 1978

Lou Gramm and Mick Jones collaborated on many tunes in the Foreigner repertoire. One of their darker songs is this one about a musician who is troubled by a broken relationship and finds himself depressed and unable to reconcile: “Out in the street, it’s six a.m., another sleepless night, three cups of coffee, but I can’t clear my head from what went down last night…” The song reached #15 on the charts in March 1979 as the third single from Foreigner’s second LP, “Double Vision.”

“Good Morning Good Morning,” The Beatles, 1967

John Lennon claimed he wrote this song one morning while eating corn flakes for breakfast and watching TV. “It was just another typical morning in 1967, and I was writing about how some days are just a drudgery — ‘going to work, don’t wanna go, feeling low down’ — and then by evening, you’re feeling better — ‘go to a show, you hope she goes.’ I wrote it very quickly. It’s a throwaway song, but I kind of like it.” It’s one of the 12 songs that comprise The Beatles’ most celebrated work, the landmark 1967 LP “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”

“Monday Morning,” Fleetwood Mac, 1975

This great Lindsey Buckingham pop song kicked off the 1975 “Fleetwood Mac” album that rebooted the band’s career just as they were about to break up.  Buckingham’s pop sensibility and distinctive guitar playing and vocals, combined with harmonies from Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie, gave this track the spark that turned heads from the moment you dropped the needle on that classic LP.  The lyrics used days of the week to show the fleeting nature of relationships: “Monday morning you sure look fine, Friday I’ve got traveling on my mind, first you love me, then you fade away, I can’t go on believing this way…”

“One Fine Morning,” Lighthouse, 1971

While Blood, Sweat & Tears and Chicago were paving the way in the late ’60s and early ’70s with their use of a horn section and jazz arrangements in a rock band, a group called Lighthouse had considerable success in Canada with the same genre. Their only US hit was “One Fine Morning,” which offered a sizzling arrangement with guitar, horns and a rollicking jazz piano solo, and songwriter Skip Prokop’s sunny lyrics about a couple hoping to make their dreams come true: “One fine morning, girl, I’ll wake up, wipe the sleep from my eyes, go outside and feel the sunshine, then I know I’ll realize that as long as you love me, girl, we’ll fly…”

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

Honorable mention:

“Good Morning Starshine,” Oliver, 1969; “Chelsea Morning,” Joni Mitchell, 1969; “Hour That the Morning Comes,” James Taylor, 1981; “Good Morning Judge,” 10CC, 1977; “Sunday Mornin‘,” Spanky and Our Gang, 1968; “If I Don’t Be There By Morning,” Eric Clapton, 1980; “Happier Than the Morning Sun,” Stevie Wonder, 1971; “As I Went Out One Morning,” Bob Dylan, 1967; “Tears in the Morning,” Beach Boys, 1970; “Good Morning, Dear,” Roy Orbison, 1969; “Early in the Morning,” Ray Charles, 1961; “New Morning,” Bob Dylan, 1970; “Good Morning Girl,” Journey, 1980; “Morning Glow,” Michael Jackson, 1973; “Cold Morning Light,” Todd Rundgren, 1972; “Woke Up This Morning,” B.B. King, 1957; “Morning Glory,” Tim Buckley, 1967; “Your Love is Like the Morning Sun,” Al Green, 1973; “July Morning,” Uriah Heep, 1971; “I Woke Up in Love This Morning,” The Partridge Family, 1970.

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

I’ve compiled two playlists for your listening pleasure. The first focuses on the 20 songs featured in the blog text, while the second includes the 20 songs that made my “honorable mentions” list.

You give me, you give me the sweetest taboo

Let’s get this out of the way right from the start: Sade is pronounced “Shah-Day.”

I remember in 1985 getting unmercifully teased when I said to a musically hip friend, “I love that new song ‘Smooth Operator’ by Sade (rhyming with ‘shade’).” He rolled his eyes, and said, “It’s (‘shah-day’), you nimrod!”

I never made that mistake again. Indeed, I went on to become a huge fan of the singer, her band and her recorded catalog, and I’ve always regretted that I never took the opportunity to see Sade perform in concert. Since her 1984 debut, she has enjoyed a stellar reputation as a powerfully seductive singer with magnetic stage presence and a rather mysterious, private persona.

Sade’s work is a shining example of a musical genre known as “quiet storm” — a smooth, romantic, jazz-influenced style aimed initially at upscale black audiences, peaking in popularity in the 1980s. It was introduced as a radio format in Washington, D.C. in the mid-’70s, named after Smokey Robinson’s 1975 LP “A Quiet Storm.” With a silky smooth on-air voice, disc jockey Melvin Lindsey would play slow, alluring songs by black artists of the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, melodically soulful music that provided an intimate, laid-back mood for late-night listening. That snowballed into a nationally popular format for both black and white adult audiences, featuring the music of established stars like Sarah Vaughan, Marvin Gaye, Dionne Warwick and Al Jarreau interspersed with newer singers like Sade, Peabo Bryson, Grover Washington, Whitney Houston, Toni Braxton, Luther Vandross, Teddy Pendergrass and Anita Baker.

Now that Sade has been selected for induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in November, the time seems right for me to profile her music and her career.

A young Sade Adu in 1967

Born in 1959 as Helen Folasade Adu in Colonial Nigeria to a British mother and Nigerian father, Sade moved with her mother to London at age four and was raised and schooled there, developing a keen interest in fashion design and modeling. Concurrently, she was also showing uncommon talent as a singer, providing backing vocals in London clubs in the early ’80s for a jazz/Latin/funk club called Pride.

By 1983, she and three members of Pride — guitarist/saxophonist Stuart Matthewman, bassist Paul Denman and drummer Paul Cooke — spun off to form their own band, named for the singer, writing their own softer-edged material. Epic Records signed Sade that year, and she and her band recorded their debut, “Diamond Life,” in 1984, an exhilarating blend of neo-soul and sophisticated jazz-pop. A New York Times review described the music as “smoldering Brazilian rhythms blended with succinct pop-soul melodies and jazzy harmonies to create a sultry, timeless nightclub ambiance.”

Instead of the heavily synthesized sounds coming out of England at the time, Sade’s production used real pianos and Fender Rhodes electric pianos, augmented by selective use of brass instruments and subtle guitar. Featured front and center, of course, was Sade’s grainy, sensual contralto voice, sometimes compared to legendary jazz singer Billie Holiday.

Sade’s first single, “Your Love is King,” reached the Top Ten in the UK but didn’t connect much with US audiences. It wasn’t until the third single, “Smooth Operator,” which she co-wrote, that she became all the rage here, as both the single and the album peaked at #5 on US charts. Elsewhere, the LP reached #1 in nine different countries, selling four million copies worldwide, and won the Brit Award (England’s Grammys, sort of) for Best British Album. To say it has had a lasting impact is an understatement; in 2020, “Diamond Life” ended up ranked 66th among Rolling Stones magazine’s “100 Greatest Debut Albums of All Time.”

(I can’t resist pointing out that there’s a line in “Smooth Operator” that I’ve good-naturedly teased her about: She talks about this wealthy, knowing playboy working his game in multiple locations — “coast to coast, L.A. to Chicago…” Last I checked, if you’re talking coast to coast, it’s L.A. to New York, not Chicago. But I digress.)

Sade and her band spearheaded a new wave of British R&B-oriented artists during the late-1980s and early-1990s that also included Soul II Soul, Simply Red and Lisa Stansfield. Wrote one critic, “Many of the British artists who emerged during that period, particularly Sade, had a neo-soul outlook and were able to blend influences from different eras.”

Not even close to being a one-hit wonder, Sade came roaring back only a year later with “Promise,” a #1 LP in the US and the UK with two big hits: “The Sweetest Taboo” and “Never As Good as the First Time.” My choice for best track is the exotically intoxicating “Is It a Crime?” with its “personification of cool, laid-back singing,” as a British review put it. While some critics felt she was limited (“a torch singer without the torch”), others said, “You can wrap yourself up in the lush, elegant music, recall or lament life and love through the lyrics, or fully immerse yourself in both.”

Sade took time out in 1986 to make her acting debut in “Absolute Beginners,” a 1950s-era British film that was a box-office dud but spawned a successful soundtrack LP, which featured David Bowie’s hit title song and Sade’s sultry tune “Killer Blow.”

Sade (the band) performing in 1989

In 1988, she kept her success streak alive with her third LP, “Stronger Than Pride,” which was self-produced. “I wanted it to be more basic and less embellished, with the quiet songs quieter and the harder songs harder,” she said. “I wanted a sound that was empty and hollow so that you would have the voice just coming at you.” The album’s ten tracks, including the #16 hit “Paradise,” include drumless songs as well as edgier, groove-driven tracks. “They add up to one long plea of desire,” according to one reviewer.

Interestingly, artists in the then-emerging rap/hip-hop genre have mentioned Sade, and this album in particular, as being inspirational to their work. Singer Keri Hilson said, “My father would whistle Sade melodies randomly all the time. As a kid, I used to try to whistle along to ‘The Sweetest Taboo’ or ‘Cherish the Day.’ He was a real Sade fan and made me one, too.”

“Love Deluxe,” released in 1992 as her fourth LP, incorporated elements of hip-hop: metal-like guitar riffs on some tracks, lyrics that sometimes strayed from love themes to address grittier topics like unemployment, and a certain darkness and dread in the arrangements. Still, it was another Top 5 LP in the US, with a modest Top 30 hit, “No Ordinary Love.”

From that point forward, she seemed to withdraw from the scene for many years at a time, releasing only two more studio albums in her career to date: “Lovers Rock” (2000), which won the Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Album, and “Soldier of Love” (2010), which some listeners felt “bordered on ambient in its statuesque stillness.” Others disagreed, saying, “Sade may not be giving us anything radically new, but it’s a pleasure just to have her back doing what she’s always done so well.” Although she has rarely given interviews, she indicated that her periods of inactivity in the 2000s were born of a desire to raise her daughter in her new home in Jamaica. Her record company filled the gaps with “Best Of” compilations and two in-concert albums.

Her output in recent years has been meager. “I am in no rush to release music,” she said in 2020. “I’m not interested in releasing music just for the sake of selling a product.” In 2018, she and her band contributed to two film soundtracks, recording “Flowers of the Universe” for “A Wrinkle in Time,” and “The Big Unknown” for “Widows.” She wrote “Young Lion” in 2024, dedicated to her transgender son Izaak, and a seventh LP has been reportedly in the works for a couple of years now.

Sade in 2024

Based on her reclusive nature of late, I wouldn’t be surprised if Sade chooses not to attend the Rock Hall induction ceremonies, but as a fan of her oeuvre, I hope she does, and treats us to a live performance.

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

The playlist below features several tracks from each of Sade’s six albums, plus singles culled from her Greatest Hits LP and two film soundtracks to which she contributed.

“Killer Blow,” the tasty tune she sang in the 1986 British film “Absolute Beginners,” is curiously unavailable on Spotify, but you can find a video clip of it on YouTube (https://youtu.be/D5hF-mqUZgg?si=S0ps9m2q5gYK_IpZ . Here, all I could manage was to include a pretty decent cover of the song from a 2007 release by Spanish-American singer Carita Bonoska.