Talk to the majority of working (or practicing) musicians today and 9 times out of 10 you'll hear them voice their opinion on how terrible modern music is, and how "bubble-gum" the content of mainstream Top 40 pop charts can be, and how the LCD (Lowest Common Denominator) prevails over quality and craftmanship in today's music scene.
I sometimes agree with those musicians. But then there are times when I revel in the crass kitsch, the vapid garbage and pap of an LCD culture, where only the catchiest and stupidest hooks are remembered and honored. These songs happen to be my guilty pleasures: a tune like N'Sync's "It's Gonna Be Me" or S Club 7's "Never Had A Dream Come True" are embarrassing and potentially cred-wrecking, but I know and recognize a well-written pop confection when I hear it.
Maybe nowadays such songs are completely lacking in meaning and purpose, but the test of time is the ultimate arbiter of how long their impact will last... which is why I find myself reveling even more in the pop cultural trash of yesteryear.
Tommy James and the Shondells' "Monie Monie" was pop bubblegum crap. So was The Toys' "Lover's Concerto" and half of The Supremes' (and all of Phil Spector's) output. But in my opinion, the greatest of all of these teeny-bopper phenoms was from a band that didn't even exist when their first-- and best known --single was released.
The band was eventually called Steam, and they hit the top of the charts with a little ditty you might recognize as "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye".
*/*
Another thing that musicians will tell you is that the song the band hates the most or views as having the least potential is usually the one that will bring said band its greatest success and longest lasting rewards.
Every band I've been in had that one song that none of us could really stomach. Of course, because of my compassionate nature I often was the only person in a group who'd even give a certain tune a chance, to which the others responded by accusing me of having a crack habit or having no real mental capacity of my own.
The irony of this situation was that no one had a problem with the song when it was first composed and rehearsed. The resentment towards any given song was acquired through repeated performances.
We'd go out on stage and play, and various members of the crowd familiar with our music (calling them fans is grossly inaccurate) would request the very song or songs that we found to be laughable. And if we were in a good mood and feeling adventurous, we'd comply... and the crowd would go nuts every time.
Seriously. I ain't bullshittin'.
*/*
Anyway, back to a band called Steam for a minute:
There was once a group called The Chateaus who were signed for a hot minute to Warner Bros in the early '60s. Their album sunk like a stone and none of their singles made a dent in the Top 100, so they were unceremoniously dropped from the label.
Years passed, and one of the guys from The Chateaus, Paul Leka, made it semi-big while working as a producer for a subsidiary of Mercury Records. As a favor to his old friend Gary De Carlo, The Chateau's old singer, Leka landed DeCarlo a contract with Mercury and soon the two recruited a third holdover from the Chateau days, session musician Dale Frashuer, to work on some singles for DeCarlo, who changed his name to Garrett Scott.
(Personally, I think Gary DeCarlo is a better stage name than Garrett Scott, but then again what did these guys know in the first place? But before I get ahead of myself...)
To make a long story short, after the singles were cut the trio felt they needed some B-side material. They didn't want to create more songs of equal caliber to the A-sides; they didn't want the throwaways competing with the songs they worked hardest on, so they pulled an all-nighter, put some coffee on the burner, and dug up a song from their days as The Chateaus called "Kiss Him Goodbye".
The production was slapdash and lacking in any real artistic intention, the product of considerable neglect: the drum track was lifted from a completely different song on a separate master tape; no other musicians were brought in to freshen up the song other than Paul Leka and Dale Frashuer's musical contributions, Garrett Scott's vocals, and group handclaps/chanting; due to a paucity of lyrics, the now-legendary "na na na na, hey hey, good-bye" was tacked on as an afterthought because they needed the song to be longer; and basically the three men made every conscious effort to make it as "inferior" to the proposed A-side single as possible, going so far as to call themselves Steam in order to distance themselves from their Frankenstein monster/redheaded stepchild of a song... Funny, though, how their names were clearly listed on the songwriting credits-- they weren't that stupid...
The three ex-Chateaus truly felt that the four songs they crafted for Garrett Scott were far superior to "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye". Imagine their shock and chagrin when the A&R guys at Mercury chose it to be the lead single. And also imagine how crazy it must've seemed when the single went to Number One in December of 1969, at the height of the hippie Flower Power movement.
Eventually, Garrett Scott bailed on plans to create a real band named Steam that would tour the world in support of this fluke of a hit record; most likely he was disgusted at the fact that the other four tracks they'd concocted under his stage name didn't even chart. Still, those royalty payments must've made some difference, because he contributed to a full-length Steam album to capitalize on the success of "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye". It was the type of album where every other song has "na na na na hey hey" automatically written into its hook somewhere.
*/*
I read about this story online recently, and it made me laugh to no end. I love stories like this, which is why I was such a sucker for VH1's Behind The Music series. And as much as I am all for artistic integrity, at the same time you have to hand it to the business end of the music industry: while it is true that there is no real formula for repeated hit-making success, the moneymen usually have a great ear for what's going to sell and not necessarily what is great art.
We must learn to forgive the schlockmeisters when they have the gall and hubris to tell the Bob Dylans and Bruce Springsteens and Peter Gabriels of the world how to market and record their records-- these men (and many others like them) need no interference from A&R people to make both their fans happy and their money back at the same time. However, let's not forget that the schlockmeisters also manage to get at least one hit out of it all, and that's plenty enough for some people... especially if your old band failed and you received a second chance to find glory and riches like Paul Leka and company.
After all, as much as I enjoy quality music and artists with great talent and skill, I also enjoy mindless pop songs like "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye" because they aren't pretentious in the slightest. When I'm at a sporting event or in a crowd of people, who wants to chant "Like A Rolling Stone"? Hell, how many people other than me even know all the words to that one?
I've got the Steam song on an endless loop on my computer as I write this. I will never tire of it. It's a classic tune, and those three guys from Bridgeport, Connecticut who pulled it out their asses one night in 1969 should be proud of themselves.
Indeed, if I ever got the chance to meet them, I'd love to shake their hands and buy them each a beer.
No comments:
Post a Comment