The Year in Schmaltzy, Crappy, Cringe-Inducing Music: 1973
A few months ago I wrote the first installment of a new feature for me here on REBEAT, “The Year in Schmaltzy, Crappy, Cringe-Inducing Music,” a column in which I take a look at some of the really bad music for randomly selected years in the 1960s and ’70s. Since I laid down the rationale for doing this and the ground rules for inclusion in that month’s look at 1972, and followed up with with 1976 and 1968, this month let’s take a look at 1973. And I promise, this column won’t be dominated by the 1970s — it’s just that that decade gave us so much really bad material (or good, for my purposes) to work with.
“Half Breed,” Cher (Billboard #1)
I’m probably going to invite a good bit of rancor by saying this, but I’m not one of those people who feels we need to look back at old songs and chastise the artists for being culturally insensitive. I mean, we can find problems with everything from “Kung Fu Fighting” to “Turning Japanese” and beyond, but it is what it is (or was what it was) and you have to move on just try not to repeat the mistakes of the past. And having grown up in the ’70s and ’80s, I know that as a rule people generally did say “Indian” and not the now-politically-correct term “Native American.” But before you try and engage me on this in the comments section, I won’t take the bait. I’m not a politician or an activist, just an average Joe.
That being said, I don’t dislike this song because it is somewhat culturally insensitive, I dislike it because its a crummy song. I wasn’t a big fan of Cher’s music during the ’70s, and songs such as “Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves” were marginal at best. But this one is just unlikable.
“The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia,” Vicki Lawrence (Billboard #1)
I think it’s hard to be a fan of ’70s television, and especially The Carol Burnett Show, and not adore Vicki Lawrence. She was cute and funny, and on the screen she seemed like such a good person it’s easy to believe that if you knew her she’d be the perfect friend. She’s the rare Hollywood talent that you just want to see succeed.
In terms of success, in 1973 she was married to well-known songwriter and singer Bobby Russell, who had written hits such as “Little Green Apples” (which won him a Grammy in 1968) as well as songs recorded by Elvis, Bryan Hyland, Nancy Sinatra, Roger Miller, and others. He also wrote “Honey,” by Bobby Goldsboro (which I covered in this column when I looked at 1968), so his propensity to write songs that were sappy but big hits was evident long before 1973.
Count “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia” among Russell’s sappy hits, but for this column’s purposes if you held my feet to the fire I’d say this falls under the heading of “cringe-inducing” more than anything else. If you can get through the song about bumpkin justice in Georgia you are a brave soul indeed.
I don’t know why a song that seems so unappealing on every level would have been a hit, but it certainly was, going all the way to #1. But the public never again found Lawrence’s song stylings all that appealing; she never had another Top 40 hit.
“Playground in My Mind,” Clint Holmes (Billboard #2)
It’s hard to say which year this song should help ruin, 1972 or 1973. It was released in the summer of 72, but took a lonnnnngggg time to climb and it finally peaked in early 1973. The fact that it climbed at all – especially to #2 – is really the surprise here, especially given that the song kicks off with children singing in harmony followed soon after by Holmes and some kid singing “My name is Michael, I’ve got a nickel.” Ugh. And I thought “Candy Man” was nauseating! But there is this – if you enjoy thinking we have better taste than our Canadian neighbors, you’ll be pleased to know that the song topped the charts there – for three weeks!
Songwriters Paul Vance and Lee Pockriss wrote a few good songs, including the marvelous “Tracy,” which Ron Dante recorded as The Cuff Links. This song, however, is not one of those songs. In many ways it has come to epitomize cheesy ’70s music.
“Ruby Red Dress (Leave Me Alone),” Helen Reddy (Billboard #3)
Helen Reddy was very successful during the 1970s, and in fact as a female solo act only Olivia Newton-John, Diana Ross, and Donna Summer had more sales and hits during the decade. While I like the music those other three artists turned out, Reddy is another story; I can barely tolerate “I Am Woman,” and I find the rest of her music pretty repellent. Of all the big acts with multiple hits and #1 records whose music I dislike, I rate her overall output in terms of schmaltzy, crappy, cringe-inducing ’70s music to surpass even that of Cher, Barbara Streisand, Barry Manilow, Ray Stevens, and the Captain & Tennille. That’s really saying something.
This song has such dumb, repetitive lyrics and such a ridiculous, annoying premise that if it had come later in her career I’d have felt like Reddy was just “mailing it in” to pick up a paycheck. But nope, this is an example of her early work, setting the stage for a lot more bad music to come. But like all of the other songs in this column, a lot of people bought the record, bad or not. But this is one of those songs I can’t see many people owning up to now and admitting the fact that they liked it then. The theme to the Beverly Hillbillies show has more cultural and social context and significance than this peace of crap.
“Sing a Song,” The Carpenters (Billboard #3)
If you’re keeping count, this is the fifth and final song I have highlighted and it is tied with “Leave Me Alone” for charting the lowest of the five – at #3. That I could find five horrible songs from 1973 and all of them reached such chart-heights is truly amazing. 1973 was obviously a banner year for bad music, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have had a lot of trouble making this whole list #1 songs. After all, I think you could easily make a case for including “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” “The Morning After,” “Delta Dawn,” “Top of the World,” “The Most Beautiful Girl,” and maybe even Paul McCartney’s “My Love” here (yes, I said it).
Instead, I’ll cap it off with a song by the Carpenters, a group that for many epitomizes ’70s schmaltz. While I recognize that they have been marginalized as an adult-oriented pop duo — a fact driven home by the fact that my mother loved their music at the time when I was a mere child and I was predictably appalled — I’ll give them a little credit. Some of their music is okay, and I think “Superstar” is a great song. That being said, they were never a part of any playlist I had whether it was a stack of 45s, an 8 track, cassette, or MP3s; just not my cup of tea, as they say. But even given their marginal appeal, this song is particularly treacly and annoying, though I’m not sure why, and I’m not sure its appearance on Sesame Street did anything to elevate it in the eyes of a lot of people either. But if you read the comments that accompany the YouTube clip above, even today a lot of people like it. I guess I’m just not one of them.
Bonus Selection
Every month my bonus selection will be by a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member (or at least a significant headliner), which is generally a contrast to the other selections, which are often (but not always) performed by one-hit wonders and an assortment of artists it’s not always easy to take too seriously. This month’s “winner” is:
“You’re Sixteen,” Ringo Starr (Billboard #1)
This song was released in December 1973, and so while it actually peaked in 1974 and I wrote about it in the article “Week-By-Week Proof That 1974 Was the Worst Year in the History of Modern Music,” it’s so significant for all the wrong reasons that I’m forcing 1973 to claim it as well. But before you get enraged and wonder how I, a mere average guy who occasionally writes about music, could have the AUDACITY to say anything negative about any of the Beatles, especially the always likable and affable Ringo Starr, hear me out. Trust me, I know REBEAT is not the best place to knock the sacred Beatles, but I’m hoping the staff will forgive me. At least they can be thankful it’s not the much revered Paul I’m finding fault with — although I may actually have one of those down the road.
In 1973 it looked like Ringo was going to be immensely successful as a solo artist, maybe even as much as John, Paul, and George — and success was pretty much a given in their cases. Before “You’re Sixteen” was released Ringo had charted in the Top 10 with 1971’s “It Don’t Come Easy”(#4), 1972’s “Back off Boogaloo”(#9), and earlier in 1973 with “Photograph,” his first #1. Then he released “You’re Sixteen,” and with Harry Nilsson doing backing vocals and Paul McCartney on kazoo, and how could it not have been a hit? Indeed it was, and this song was his second #1, and was a commercial success to be sure.
But the differences between this song and Starr’s previous releases listed above are noteworthy. While those three hits were written by Starr and George Harrison (even if uncredited at times), this was a cover of an old Johnny Burnette song from 1960. While “It Don’t Come Easy,” “Back off Boogaloo,” and “Photograph” had a certain emotional depth and/or meaning to them, this song was just silly. As I wrote in the column about 1974’s bad music, “After three excellent chart records as a solo artist…it looked like Ringo was going to shake that goofy image and get the artistic respect that Paul, John, and George did….instead, he offered up a Johnny Burnette cover featuring a kazoo, which was definitely not the way to go.” I stand by that statement, and in fact it seemed that after this song he started to cultivate that goofy-Beatle image again with songs such as “No No Song,” “Oh My My,” and a odd cover version of “Only You.” In short, in many ways this song – even if a #1 – was a step backwards in my opinion.
Finally, take a look at the video above featuring Ringo and a young Carrie Fisher. In 1973 when the video was made Fisher would have actually been 16 or 17, while Ringo would have been a creepy 33. A relationship between the two of them would have broken just about every law in the books, from age of consent and statutory rape laws in about half of the states in the U.S., to the Mann Act under certain circumstances. If you are looking for a reason to have a problem with the song, I’ll rest my case with that.
I’ll be back next month, with yet another look at the really bad music of the ’60s and ’70s. Until then…
