The most successful folk-rock duo of the 1960s, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel crafted a series of memorable hit albums and singles featuring their choirboy harmonies, ringing acoustic, and electric guitars; and Simon‘s acute, finely wrought songwriting. The pair always inhabited the more polished end of the folk-rock spectrum, and were sometimes criticized for a certain collegiate sterility. Many also feel that Simon, as both a singer and songwriter, didn’t truly blossom until he began his own hugely successful solo career in the 1970s. But the best of S&G’s work can stand among Simon‘s best material, and the duo did progress musically over the course of their five albums, moving from basic folk-rock productions into Latin rhythms and gospel-influenced arrangements that foreshadowedSimon‘s eclecticism on his solo albums.

Simon & Garfunkel’s recording history actually predated their first mid-’60s hit by almost a decade. Childhood friends while growing up together in Forest Hills, NY, they began making records in 1957, performing (and often writing their own material) in something of a juvenile Everly Brothers style. Calling themselves Tom & Jerry, their first single, “Hey Schoolgirl,” actually made the Top 50, but a series of follow-ups went nowhere. The duo split up, and Simon continued to struggle to make it in the music business as a songwriter and occasional performer, sometimes using the names of Jerry Landis or Tico & the Triumphs.

By the early ’60s, both Simon and Garfunkel were coming under the influence of folk music. When they reteamed, it was as a folk duo, though Simon‘s pop roots would serve the act well in their material’s synthesis of folk and pop influences. Signing to Columbia, they recorded an initially unsuccessful acoustic debut (as Simon & Garfunkel, not Tom & Jerry) in 1964, Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M. They again went their separate ways, Simonmoving to England, where he played the folk circuit and recorded an obscure solo album.

The Simon & Garfunkel story might have ended there, except for a brainstorm of their producer, Tom Wilson (who also produced several of Bob Dylan‘s early albums). Folk-rock was taking off in 1965, and Wilson, who had helped Dylan electrify his sound, took the strongest track from S&G’s debut, “Sounds of Silence,” and embellished it with electric guitars, bass, and drums. It got to number one in early 1966, giving the duo the impetus to reunite and make a serious go at a recording career, Simon returning from the U.K. to the U.S. In 1966 and 1967, they were regular visitors to the pop charts with some of the best folk-rock of the era, including “Homeward Bound,” “I Am a Rock,” and “A Hazy Shade of Winter.”

Simon & Garfunkel’s early albums were erratic, but they steadily improved as Simonsharpened his songwriting, and as the duo became more comfortable and adventurous in the studio. Their execution was so clean and tasteful that it cost them some hipness points during the psychedelic era, which was a bit silly. They were far from the raunchiest thing going, but managed to pull off the nifty feat of appealing to varying segments of the pop and rock audience — and various age groups, not just limited to adolescents — without compromising their music. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme (late 1966) was their first really consistent album; Bookends (1968), which actually blended previously released singles with some new material, reflected their growing maturity. One of its songs, “Mrs. Robinson,” became one of the biggest singles of the late ’60s after it was prominently featured in one of the best films of the period, The Graduate (which also had other Simon & Garfunkel songs on the soundtrack).

It was unsurprising, in retrospect, that the duo’s partnership began to weaken in the late ’60s. They had known each other most of their lives, and been performing together for over a decade. Simon began to feel constrained by the limits of working with the same collaborator; Garfunkel, who wrote virtually none of the material, felt overshadowed by the songwriting talents of Simon, though Garfunkel‘s high tenor was crucial to their appeal. They started to record some of their contributions separately in the studio, and barely played live at all in 1969, as Garfunkel began to pursue an acting career.

Their final studio album, Bridge Over Troubled Waters, was an enormous hit, topping the charts for ten weeks, and containing four hit singles (the title track, “The Boxer,” “Cecilia,” and “El Condor Pasa”). It was certainly their most musically ambitious, with “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” and “The Boxer” employing thundering drums and tasteful orchestration, and “Cecilia” marking one of Simon‘s first forays into South American rhythms. It also caught the confused, reflective tenor of the times better than almost any other popular release of 1970.

That would be their last album of new material. Although they didn’t necessarily intend to break up at the time, the break from recording eventually became permanent; as Simonbegan a solo career that brought him as much success as the S&G outings, and Garfunkelpursued simultaneous acting and recording careers. They did reunite in 1975 for a Top Ten single, “My Little Town,” and periodically performed together since without ever coming close to generating albums of new material. A 1981 concert in New York’s Central Park attracted half a million fans, and was commemorated with a live album; they also toured in the early ’80s, but a planned studio album was canceled due to artistic differences.

Biography by Richie Unterberger

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Along with the Shirelles and the Ronettes, the Shangri-Las were among the greatest girl groups; if judged solely on the basis of attitude, they were the greatest of them all. They combined an innocent adolescent charm with more than a hint of darkness, singing about dead bikers, teenage runaways, and doomed love affairs as well as ebullient high-school crushes. These could be delivered with either infectious, handclapping harmonies or melodramatic, almost operatic recitatives that were contrived but utterly effective. Tying it all together in the studio was Shadow Morton, a mad genius of a producer who may have been second in eccentric imagination only to Phil Spector in the mid-’60s.

Originally the Shangri-Las were comprised of two pairs of sisters from Queens, NY (identical twins Marge and Mary Anne Ganser and siblings Mary and Betty Weiss). They had already recorded a couple of obscure singles when they were hired by George “Shadow” Morton to demo a song he had recently written, “Remember (Walkin’ in the Sand).” The haunting ballad, with its doomy “Moonlight Sonata”-like piano riffs, wailing lead vocal, and thunderous background harmonies, seguing into an a cappella chorus backed by nothing except handclaps and seagull cries, made the Top Five in late 1964. It also began their association with Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller‘s Red Bird label, which would handle the group for the bulk of their career.

The quality of Morton‘s work with the Shangri-Las on Red Bird (with assistance from Jeff Barry and Artie Butler) was remarkable considering that he had virtually no prior experience in the music business. The group’s material, so over-the-top emotionally that it sometimes bordered on camp, was lightened by the first-class production, which embroidered the tracks with punchy brass, weeping strings, and plenty of imaginative sound effects. Nowhere was this more apparent than on “Leader of the Pack,” with its periodic motorcycle roars and crescendo of crashing glass. The death-rock classic became the Shangri-Las’ signature tune, reaching number one.

Several smaller hits followed in 1965 and 1966, many of them excellent. “Give Him a Great Big Kiss” proved they could handle more conventionally, bubbly girl group fare well; “I Can Never Go Home Anymore,” a runaway tale that took their patented pathos to the extreme, would be their third and final Top Ten hit. These all show up on oldies collections, but lots of listeners remain unaware of the other fine singles in their catalog, like the moody “Out in the Streets,” the dense orchestral swamp of “He Cried” (which cuts Jay & the Americans‘ original, “She Cried,” to pieces), and another teen death tale, “Give Us Your Blessings.” Some of their best songs, in fact, were B-sides; “Dressed in Black,” yet another teen death drama, had a marvelously hushed and damned atmosphere, and “Paradise” was co-written by a young Harry Nilsson. Their most unusual single of all was “Past, Present and Future,” which didn’t feature a single sung note, presenting a somber spoken monologue and occasional spoken background chants over a classical piano track reminiscent of “Remember (Walking in the Sand).” It was too unconventional to rise above the middle of the charts, especially given that the narrative could quite possibly be construed as the recollections of an assault/rape victim.

Unlike some girl groups, the Shangri-Las were dynamic on-stage performers, choreographing their dance steps to their lyrics and wearing skin-tight leather pants and boots that were quite daring for the time.

The Red Bird label ran into serious organizational difficulties in the mid-’60s, and wound down its operations in 1966. The group moved to Mercury for a couple of dispirited singles, but had split by the end of the 1960s. Shadow Morton went on to an interesting, erratic career that included involvement with Janis Ian, the New York Dolls, and Mott the Hoople.Mary Anne Ganser died in 1970; Her sister Marge died in 1996 of breast cancer.

Even today, the Shangri-Las’ history remains somewhat murky and mysterious; the original members have rarely reunited for oldies shows or talked to the press. The situation was exacerbated by frustratingly substandard reissues of their Red Bird work, which made it impossible to collect all of their fine sides without buying numerous packages, many of which boasted shockingly shoddy sound quality. Happily, the situation was rectified in the mid-’90s with excellent, comprehensive compilations of the Red Bird material in both the U.K. and U.S.

In March 2007 Norton Records released a solo album by Mary Weiss called Dangerous Game.
Mary is currently touring and working on a second album.

www.maryweiss.com
www.nortonrecords.com/index2.html
myspace.com/maryweiss

Biography by Richie Unterberger

Queen

Few bands embodied the pure excess of the ’70s like Queen. Embracing the exaggerated pomp of prog rock and heavy metal, as well as vaudevillian music hall, the British quartet delved deeply into camp and bombast, creating a huge, mock-operatic sound with layered guitars and overdubbed vocals. Queen’s music was a bizarre yet highly accessible fusion of the macho and the fey. For years, their albums boasted the motto “no synthesizers were used on this record,” signaling their allegiance with the legions of post-Led Zeppelin hard rock bands. But vocalist Freddie Mercury brought an extravagant sense of camp to the band, pushing them toward kitschy humor and pseudo-classical arrangements, as epitomized on their best-known song, “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Mercury, it must be said, was a flamboyant bisexual who managed to keep his sexuality in the closet until his death from AIDS in 1991. Nevertheless, his sexuality was apparent throughout Queen’s music, from their very name to their veiled lyrics — it was truly bizarre to hear gay anthems like “We Are the Champions” turn into celebrations of sports victories. That would have been impossible without Mercury, one of the most dynamic and charismatic frontmen in rock history. Through his legendary theatrical performances, Queen became one of the most popular bands in the world in the mid-’70s; in England, they remained second only to the Beatles in popularity and collectibility in the ’90s. Despite their enormous popularity, Queen were never taken seriously by rock critics — an infamous Rolling Stone review labeled their 1979 album Jazz as “fascist.” In spite of such harsh criticism, the band’s popularity rarely waned; even in the late ’80s, the group retained a fanatical following except in America. In the States, their popularity peaked in the early ’80s, just as they finished nearly a decade’s worth of extraordinarily popular records. And while those records were never praised, they sold in enormous numbers, and traces of Queen’s music could be heard in several generations of hard rock and metal bands in the next two decades, from Metallica to Smashing Pumpkins.

The origins of Queen lay in the hard rock psychedelic group Smile, which guitarist Brian May and drummer Roger Taylor joined in 1967. Following the departure of Smile‘s lead vocalist, Tim Staffell, in 1971, May and Taylor formed a group with Freddie Mercury, the former lead singer for Wreckage. Within a few months, bassist John Deacon joined them, and they began rehearsing. Over the next two years, as all four members completed college, they simply rehearsed, playing just a handful of gigs. By 1973, they had begun to concentrate on their career, releasing the Roy Thomas Baker-produced Queen that year and setting out on their first tour. Queen was more or less a straight metal album and failed to receive much acclaim, but Queen II became an unexpected British breakthrough early in 1974. Before its release, the band played Top of the Pops, performing “Seven Seas of Rhye.” Both the song and the performance were a smash success, and the single rocketed into the Top Ten, setting the stage for Queen II to reach number five. Following its release, the group embarked on its first American tour, supporting Mott the Hoople. On the strength of their campily dramatic performances, the album climbed to number 43 in the States.

Queen released their third album, Sheer Heart Attack, before the end of 1974. The music hall meets Zeppelin “Killer Queen” climbed to number two on the U.K. charts, taking the album to number two as well. Sheer Heart Attack made some inroads in America as well, setting the stage for the breakthrough of 1975’s A Night at the Opera. Queen labored long and hard over the record; according to many reports, it was the most expensive rock record ever made at the time of its release. The first single from the record, “Bohemian Rhapsody,” became Queen’s signature song, and with its bombastic, mock-operatic structure punctuated by heavy metal riffing, it encapsulates their music. It also is the symbol for their musical excesses — the song took three weeks to record, and there were so many vocal overdubs on the record that it was possible see through the tape at certain points. To support “Bohemian Rhapsody,” Queen shot one of the first conceptual music videos, and the gamble paid off as the single spent nine weeks at number one in the England, breaking the record for the longest run at number one. The song and A Night at the Opera were equally successful in America, as the album climbed into the Top Ten and quickly went platinum.

Following A Night at the Opera, Queen were established as superstars, and they quickly took advantage of all their status had to offer. Their parties and indulgence quickly became legend in the rock world, yet the band continued to work at a rapid rate. In the summer of 1976, they performed a free concert at London’s Hyde Park that broke attendance records, and they released the hit single “Somebody to Love” a few months later. It was followed by A Day at the Races, which was essentially a scaled-down version of A Night at the Opera that reached number one in the U.K. and number five in the U.S. They continued to pile up hit singles in both Britain and America over the next five years, as each of their albums went into the Top Ten, always going gold and usually platinum in the process. Because Queen embraced such mass success and adoration, they were scorned by the rock press, especially when they came to represent all of the worst tendencies of the old guard in the wake of punk. Nevertheless, the public continued to buy Queen records. Featuring the Top Five double-A-sided single “We Are the Champions”/”We Will Rock You,” News of the World became a Top Ten hit in 1977. The following year, Jazz nearly replicated that success, with the single “Fat Bottomed Girls”/”Bicycle Race” becoming an international hit despite the massive bad publicity surrounding their media stunt of staging a nude female bicycle race.

Queen were at the height of their popularity as they entered the ’80s, releasing The Game, their most diverse album to date, in 1980. On the strength of two number one singles — the campy rockabilly “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and the disco-fied “Another One Bites the Dust” — The Game became the group’s first American number one album. However, the bottom fell out of the group’s popularity, particularly in the U.S., shortly afterward. Their largely instrumental soundtrack to Flash Gordon was coldly received later in 1980. With the help of David Bowie, Queen were able to successfully compete with new wave with 1981’s hit single “Under Pressure” — their first U.K. number one since “Bohemian Rhapsody” — which was included both on their 1981 Greatest Hits and 1982’s Hot Space. Instead of proving the group’s vitality, “Under Pressure” was a last gasp. Hot Space was only a moderate hit, and the more rock-oriented The Works (1984) also was a minor hit, with only “Radio Ga Ga” receiving much attention. Shortly afterward, they left Elektra and signed with Capitol.

Faced with their decreased popularity in the U.S. and waning popularity in Britain, Queen began touring foreign markets, cultivating a large, dedicated fan base in Latin America, Asia, and Africa, continents that most rock groups ignored. In 1985, they returned to popularity in Britain in the wake of their show-stopping performance at Live Aid. The following year, they released A Kind of Magic to strong European sales, but they failed to make headway in the States. The same fate befell 1989’s The Miracle, yet 1991’s Innuendowas greeted more favorably, going gold and peaking at number 30 in the U.S. Nevertheless, it still was a far bigger success in Europe, entering the U.K. charts at number one.

By 1991, Queen had drastically scaled back their activity, causing many rumors to circulate about Freddie Mercury‘s health. On November 23, he issued a statement confirming that he was stricken with AIDS; he died the next day. The following spring, the remaining members of Queen held a memorial concert at Wembley Stadium, which was broadcast to an international audience of more than one billion. Featuring such guest artists as David Bowie, Elton John, Annie Lennox, Def Leppard, and Guns N’ Roses, the concert raised millions for the Mercury Phoenix Trust, which was established for AIDS awareness. The concert coincided with a revival of interest in “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which climbed to number two in the U.S. and number one in the U.K. in the wake of its appearance in theMike Myers comedy Wayne’s World. Following Mercury‘s death, the remaining members of Queen were fairly quiet. Brian May released his second solo album, Back to the Light, in 1993, ten years after the release of his first record. Roger Taylor cut a few records with the Cross, which he had been playing with since 1987, while Deacon essentially retired. The three reunited in 1994 to record backing tapes for vocal tracks Mercury recorded on his death bed. The resulting album, Made in Heaven, was released in 1995 to mixed reviews and strong sales, particularly in Europe. Crown Jewels, a box set repackaging their first eight LPs, followed in 1998. Archival live recordings, DVDs and compilations kept appearing through the new millennium. In 2005 the Queen name was revived but this time with “+Paul Rodgers” appended to it. Rodgers, the former lead singer of Free and Bad Company, joined Brian May and Roger Taylor — John Deacon remained retired — for some live shows, one of which was documented on 2005’s Return of the Champions, a double disc on the Hollywood label.

Biography by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Although they’re best known today for their lush, lyrically and musically profound (some would say bombastic) psychedelic-era albums, the Moody Blues started out as one of the better R&B-based combos of the British Invasion. The Moody Blues’ history began in Birmingham, England, where one of the more successful bands during that time was El Riot & the Rebels, co-founded by Ray Thomas (harmonica, vocals) and Mike Pinder(keyboards, vocals). Pinder left the band, first for a gig with Jackie Lynton and then a stint in the Army. In May of 1963, he and Thomas reunited under the auspices of the Krew Cats. Following some success in Germany, Thomas and Pinder decided to try turning professional, recruiting members from some of the best groups working in Birmingham, including Denny Laine (vocals, guitar), Graeme Edge (drums), and Clint Warwick (bass, vocals). The Moody Blues, as they came to be known, made their debut in Birmingham in May of 1964, and quickly earned the notice and later the services of manager Tony Secunda. A major tour was quickly booked, and the band landed an engagement at the Marquee Club, which resulted in a contract with England’s Decca Records less than six months after their formation. The group’s first single, “Steal Your Heart Away,” released in September of 1964, didn’t touch the British charts.

Their second single, “Go Now,” released in November of 1964 — a cover of an American single by R&B singer Bessie Banks — fulfilled every expectation and more, reaching number one in England and earning them a berth in some of the top venues in England (including the New Musical Express Poll Winners Concert, appearing with some of the top acts of the period); its number ten chart placement in America also earned them a place as a support act for the Beatles on one tour and the release of the follow-up LP (Magnificent Moodies in England, Go Now in America) on both sides of the Atlantic. It was coming up with a follow-up hit to “Go Now,” however, that proved their undoing. Despite their fledgling songwriting efforts and the access they had to American demos — including one choice number by Ellie Greenwich — this version of the Moody Blues never came up with another single success. By the end of the spring of 1965, the frustration was palpable within the band. The group decided to make their fourth single, “From the Bottom of My Heart,” an experiment with a different, much more subtly soulful sound, and it was one of the most extraordinary records of the entire British Invasion, with haunting performances all around. Unfortunately, the single only reached number 22 on the British charts following its release in May of 1965. Ultimately, the grind of touring, coupled with the strains facing the group, became too much for Warwick, who exited in the spring of 1966, and by August of 1966 Laine had left as well. Warwick was replaced by John Lodge, an ex-bandmate of Ray Thomas, and in late 1966 singer/guitarist Justin Hayward joined.

For a time, they kept doing the same brand of music, but Hayward and Pinder were also writing different kinds of songs that did get out as singles, to little avail. At one point in 1966, the band decided to pull up stakes from England — where their bookings had devolved to workingman’s clubs and cabaret — and start playing in Europe, where even a “has-been” British act could earn halfway decent fees. And they began building a new act based on new material that was more in keeping with the slightly trippy, more pop-oriented folk-rock sounds and light psychedelia that were popular at the time. The Beatleswere doing acoustic-textured folk-rock and incorporating Indian influences into their music, and even the Rolling Stones were releasing records such as “Lady Jane,” so the Moody Blues moved past their R&B roots into new, more richly textured music. They were still critically short of money and prospects when fate played a hand, in the form of a project initiated by Decca Records.

In contrast to America, where home stereo systems swept the country after 1958, in England stereo was still not dominant, or even common, in most people’s homes — apart from classical listeners — in 1966. Decca had come up with “Deramic Stereo,” which offered a wide spread of sound, coupled with superbly clean and rich recording, and was trying to market it with an LP that would serve as a showcase, utilizing pop/rock done in a classical style. The Moody Blues, who owed the label unrecouped advances and recording session fees from their various failed releases, were picked for the proposed project, which was to be a rock version of Dvorák‘s New World Symphony. They did try to fulfill that specific commitment, but were never able to deliver the songs. Luckily, they were able to convince the staff producer and engineer that the proposed adaptation was wrongheaded, and to deliver something else; the producer, Tony Clarke, was impressed with some of the band’s own compositions, and they arrived at the idea of an archetypal day’s cycle of living represented in rock songs set within an orchestral framework. With Clarke leading the subterfuge in cooperation with engineer Derek Varnals, and conductor/arranger Peter Knight writing the orchestrations that were used to accompany the group’s work and bridge the songs, the result was the album Days of Future Passed.

The record’s mix of rock and classical sounds was new, and at first puzzled the record company, which didn’t know how to market it, but eventually the record was issued, first in England and later in America. It became a hit in England, propelled up the charts by the single “Nights in White Satin” (authored and sung by Hayward), which made the Top 20 in the U.K.; in America, the chosen single was another Hayward song, “Tuesday Afternoon.” All of it hooked directly into the aftermath of the Summer of Love, and the LP was — totally accidentally — timed perfectly to fall into the hands of listeners who were looking for an orchestral/psychedelic recording to follow works such as the Beatles‘ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Better still, the band still had a significant backlog of excellent psychedelic-themed songs to draw on. Their debt wiped out and their music now in demand, they went to work with a follow-up record in short order and delivered In Search of the Lost Chord (1968), which was configured somewhat differently from its predecessor. Though Decca was ecstatic with the sales results of Days of Future Passed and the singles, and assigned Clarke and Varnals to work with them in the future, the label wasn’t willing to schedule full-blown orchestral sessions again. And having just come out of a financial hole, the group wasn’t about to go into debt again financing such a recording.

The solution to the problem of accompaniment came from within the group, with keyboard player Mike Pinder, and an organ-like device called a Mellotron. Using tape heads activated by the touch of keys, and tape loops comprised of the sounds of horns, strings, etc., the instrument generated an eerie, orchestra-like sound. Introduced at the start of the 1960s as a potential rival to the Hammond organ, the Mellotron had worked its way into rock music slowly, in acts such as the Graham Bond Organisation, and had emerged to some public prominence on Beatles records such as “Strawberry Fields Forever” and, more recently, “I Am the Walrus”; during that same year, in a similar supporting capacity, it would also turn up on the Rolling Stones‘ Their Satanic Majesties Request. As it happened,Pinder not only knew how to play it but had also worked in the factory that built them, which enabled him over the years to reengineer, modify, and customize the instruments to his specifications. (The resulting instruments were nicknamed “Pindertrons.”)

In Search of the Lost Chord (1968) put the Mellotron in the spotlight, and it quickly became a part of their signature sound. The album, sublimely beautiful and steeped in a strange mix of British whimsy (“Dr. Livingston I Presume”) and ornate, languid Eastern-oriented songs (“Visions of Paradise,” “Om”), also introduced one psychedelic-era anthem, “Legend of a Mind”; authored by Ray Thomas and utilizing the name of LSD guru Timothy Leary in its lyric and choruses, along with swooping cellos and lilting flute, it helped make the band an instant favorite among the late-’60s counterculture. (The group members have since admitted at various times that they were, as was the norm at the time, indulging in various hallucinogenic substances.) That album and its follow-up, 1969’s To Our Children’s Children’s Children, were magnificent achievements, utilizing their multi-instrumental skills and the full capability of the studio in overdubbing voices, instruments, etc. But in the process of making those two LPs, the group found that they’d painted themselves into a corner as performing musicians — thanks to overdubbing, those albums were essentially the work of 15 or 20 Moody Blues, not a quintet, and they were unable to re-create their sound properly in concert.

Indeed, from their album To Our Children’s Children’s Children — which was also the first release of the group’s own newly founded label, Threshold Records — only one song, the guitar-driven “Gypsy,” ever worked on-stage. Beginning with A Question of Balance(1970), however, the group specifically recorded songs in arrangements that they could play in concert, stripping down their sound a bit by reducing their reliance on overdubbing and, in the process, toughening up their sound. They were able to do most of that album and their next record, Every Good Boy Deserves Favour, on-stage, with impressive results. By that time, all five members of the band were composing songs, and each had his own identity, Pinder the impassioned mystic, Lodge the rocker, Edge the poet, Thomas the playful mystic, and Hayward the romantic — all had contributed significantly to their repertoire, though Hayward tended to have the biggest share of the group’s singles, and his songs often occupied the leadoff spot on their LPs.

They weren’t really a “singles” act by then, their audience principally consisting of college students who primarily purchased LPs, and their music was more prominent on FM radio than on AM radio. “Question” and “The Story in Your Eyes,” for example, were known as singles, but were also totally overshadowed by their respective LPs. Their music had evolved from pop psychedelia to a very accessible, almost pop variety of progressive rock. Meanwhile, a significant part of their audience didn’t think of the Moody Blues merely as musicians but, rather, as spiritual guides. John Lodge‘s song “I’m Just a Singer (In a Rock & Roll Band)” was his answer to this phenomenon, renouncing the role that had been thrust upon the band — it was also an unusually hard-rocking number for the group, and was also a modest hit single. Ironically, in 1972, the group was suddenly competing with itself when “Nights in White Satin” charted again in America and England, selling far more than it had in 1967; that new round of single sales also resulted in Days of Future Passedselling anew by the tens of thousands.

In the midst of all of this activity, the members, finally slowing down and enjoying the fruits of their success, had reached an impasse. As they prepared to record their new album, Seventh Sojourn (1972), the strain of touring and recording steadily for five years had taken its toll. Good songs were becoming more difficult to deliver and record, and cutting that album had proved nearly impossible. The public never saw the problems, and its release earned them their best reviews to date and was accompanied by a major international tour, and the sales and attendance were huge. Once the tour was over, however, it was announced that the group was going on hiatus — they wouldn’t work together again for five years. During this era, Hayward and Lodge recorded a very successful duet album, Blue Jays (1975), and all five members did solo albums. All were released through Threshold, which was still distributed by English Decca (then called London Records in the United States), and Threshold even maintained a small catalog of other artists, including Trapeze and Providence, though they evidently missed their chance to sign a group that might well have eclipsed the Moody Blues musically, King Crimson. (Ironically, the latter also used the Mellotron as a central part of their sound, but in a totally different way, and were the only group ever to make more distinctive use of the instrument.)

Other bands, including Barclay James Harvest and the Strawbs, the latter coming into progressive rock from a folk orientation, picked off some of the Moody Blues’ audience during the 1970s. Still, the Moodies’ old records were strong enough, elicited enough positive memories, and picked up enough new listeners (even amid the punk and disco booms) that a double-LP retrospective (This Is the Moody Blues) sold extremely well, years after they’d stopped working together, as did a live/studio archival double LP (Caught Live + 5). By 1977, the members had decided to reunite, a process complicated by the fact thatPinder had moved to California during that period. Although all five participated in the resulting album, Octave (1978), there were numerous stresses during its recording, andPinder was ultimately unhappy enough with the LP to decline to go on tour with the band. The reunion tour came off anyway, with ex-Yes keyboardist Patrick Moraz brought in to replace Pinder, and the album topped the charts.

The group’s next record, Long Distance Voyager (1981), was even more popular, though by this time a schism was beginning to develop between the band and the critical community. The reviews from critics (who’d seldom been that enamored of the band even in its heyday) became ever more harsh, and although their hiatus had allowed the band to skip the punk era, they seemed just as out of step amid the MTV era and the ascendancy of acts such as Madonna, the Pretenders, the Police, et al. By 1981, they’d been tagged by most of the rock press with the label “dinosaurs,” seemingly awaiting extinction. There were still decent-sized hits, such as “Gemini Dream,” but the albums seemed rather mechanical and soulless, the result of going through the motions of being a group. WithoutPinder with his broadly arcing mysticism, and with his would-be successor, Moraz, seemingly unable to contribute to the songwriting, they seemed a shadow of what they’d been to longtime fans. There were OK records, and the concerts drew well, mostly for the older songs, but there was little urgency or very much memorable about the new material.

That all changed a bit when one of them finally delivered a song so good that in its mere existence it begged to be recorded — the Hayward-authored single “In Your Wildest Dreams” (1986), an almost perfect successor to “Nights in White Satin.” Mixing romance, passion, and feelings of nostalgia with a melody that was gorgeous and instantly memorable (and with a great beat), the single — along with its accompanying album — approached the top of the charts. They were boosted up there by a superb promotional video (featuring the Mood Six as the younger Moody Blues) that suddenly gave the group at least a little contemporary pop/rock credibility. The follow-up, “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere,” was a lesser but still impressive commercial success, with an even better secondary melodic theme, and the two combined gave them an essential and memorable pair of mid-decade hits, boosting their concert attendance back up and shoring up their contemporary songbag.

Still, the Moody Blues were no longer anywhere near the cutting edge of music, and by the end of the 1980s, they were again perceived as a nostalgia act, albeit one with a huge audience — a bit like the Grateful Dead without the critical respect or veneration. By that time, Moraz was gone and the core group was reduced to a quartet, with salaried keyboard players augmenting their work (along with a second drummer to back up Edge). They had also begun attracting fans by the tens of thousands to a new series of concerts, in which — for the first time — they performed with orchestras and, thus, could do their most elaborately produced songs on-stage. In 1994, a four-CD set devoted to their work, entitled Time Traveller, was released. By that time, their new albums were barely charting, and seldom attracting any reviews, but their catalog was among the best-selling parts of the Polygram library. A new studio effort, Strange Times, followed in 1999 and the live (at the Royal Albert Hall) Hall of Fame followed a year later, but it was the 1997 upgrades of their original seven albums, from Days of Future Passed to Seventh Sojourn, that attracted far more attention from the public. In 2003, Ray Thomas retired, and the Moody Blues carried on as a core trio of Hayward, Lodge, and Edge.

Biography by Bruce Eder

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During their initial 14 years of existence (1973-1987), Journey altered their musical approach and their personnel extensively while becoming a top touring and recording band. The only constant factor was guitarist Neal Schon (born February 27, 1954), a music prodigy who had been a member of Santana in 1971-1972. The original unit, which was named in a contest on KSAN-FM in San Francisco, featured Schon, bassist Ross Valory, drummer Prairie Prince (replaced by Aynsley Dunbar), and guitarist George Tickner (who left after the first album). Another former Santana member, keyboard player and singerGregg Rolie, joined shortly afterward. This lineup recorded Journey (1975), the first of three moderate-selling jazz-rock albums given over largely to instrumentals. By 1977, however, the group decided it needed a strong vocalist/frontman and hired Steve Perry(born January 22, 1949). The results were immediately felt on the fourth album, Infinity(1978), which sold a million copies within a year. (By this time, Dunbar had been replaced by Steve Smith.) Evolution (1979) was similarly successful, as was Departure (after whichRolie was replaced by Jonathan Cain). Following a live album, Captured (1981), Journey released Escape, which broke them through to the top ranks of pop groups by scoring three Top Ten hit singles, all ballads highlighting Perry‘s smooth tenor: “Who’s Crying Now,” “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and “Open Arms.” The album topped the charts and sold millions. Frontiers (1983), featuring the hit “Separate Ways,” was another big success, after which Perry released a double-platinum solo album, Street Talk (1984). When the group got back together to make a new album, Valory and Smith were no longer in the lineup and Raised on Radio (1986) was made by Schon, Perry, and Cain, who added other musicians for a tour.

Following the tour, Journey disbanded. Perry went into a prolonged period of seclusion asSchon and Cain formed Bad English with vocalist John Waite. Bad English had several hit singles, including the chart-topper “When I See You Smile,” before breaking up. Perryreturned to recording in 1994, releasing For the Love of Strange Medicine. Although the album went gold, it was a commercial disappointment by previous standards. In 1996,Perry, Schon, Cain, Valory, and Smith staged a Journey reunion, releasing the million-selling Trial by Fire, which featured the gold-selling Top 20 single “When You Love a Woman,” and going on tour. Perry and Smith opted out of the reunion after the tour, but Journey continued, hiring a new lead singer, Steve Augeri (formerly of Tall Stories), and a new drummer, Bad English‘s Deen Castronovo, who made their debuts on “Remember Me,” a track on the 1998 Armageddon soundtrack. The band next reconvened in 2001. Arrival, Journey’s 11th new studio album, was released in April, followed by a national tour. The band received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame on January 21, 2005. That same year they released a new album, Generations, and embarked on their 30th anniversary tour. Shows on the tour stretched over three hours long and were divided into two sets — one focusing on pre-Escape material, the other on post-Escape material. The archival releaseLive in Houston 1981: The Escape Tour appeared on both DVD and CD in 2006.

– William Ruhlmann

One of the best and most commercially successful pop/rock acts of the British Invasion, when the Hollies began recording in 1963, they relied heavily upon the R&B/early rock & roll covers that provided the staple diet for countless British bands of the time. They quickly developed a more distinctive style of three-part harmonies (heavily influenced bythe Everly Brothers), ringing guitars, and hook-happy material, penned by both outside writers (especially Graham Gouldman) and themselves, eventually composing most of their repertoire on their own. The best early Hollies records evoke an infectious, melodic cheer similar to that of the early Beatles, although the Hollies were neither in their class (not an insult: nobody else was) nor demonstrated a similar capacity for artistic growth. They tried, though, easing into somewhat more sophisticated folk-rock and mildly psychedelic sounds as the decade wore on, especially on their albums (which contain quite a few overlooked highlights).

Allan Clarke (lead singer) and Graham Nash (vocals, guitar) had been friends since childhood in Manchester, and formed the nucleus of the Hollies in the early ’60s with bassist Eric Haydock. In early 1963, EMI producer Ron Richards signed the group after seeing them at the famous Cavern Club in Liverpool. Guitarist Vic Steele left before the first session, to be replaced by 17-year-old Tony Hicks. Drummer Don Rathbone only lasted for a couple of singles before being replaced by Bobby Elliott, who had played withHicks in his pre-Hollies group, the Dolphins. The lineup changes were most fortuitous:Hicks contributed a lot to the group with his ringing guitar work and songwriting, andElliott was one of the very finest drummers in all of pop/rock.

Although their first singles were R&B covers, the Hollies were no match for the Rolling Stones (or for that matter the Beatles) in this department, and were much more at home with pop/rock material that provided a sympathetic complement to their glittering harmonies. They ran off an awesome series of hits in the U.K. in the ’60s, making the Top 20 almost 20 times. Some of their best mid-’60s singles, like “Here I Go Again,” “We’re Through,” and the British number one “I’m Alive,” passed virtually unnoticed in the United States, where they couldn’t make the Top 40 until early 1966, when Graham Gouldman‘s “Look Through Any Window” did the trick. In 1966, Eric Haydock left the group under cloudy circumstances, replaced by Bernie Calvert.

The Hollies really didn’t break in America in a big way until “Bus Stop” (1966), their first Stateside Top Tenner; “On a Carousel,” “Carrie Ann,” and “Stop Stop Stop” were also big hits. Here the Hollies were providing something of a satisfying option for pop-oriented listeners that found the increasingly experimental outings of groups like the Beatles andKinks too difficult to follow. At the same time, the production and harmonies were sophisticated enough to maintain a broader audience than more teen- and bubblegum-oriented British Invasion acts like Herman’s Hermits. Their albums showed a more serious and ambitious side, particularly on the part of Graham Nash, without ever escaping the truth that their forte was well-executed pop/rock, not serious statements.

Nash, however, itched to make an impression as a more serious artist, particularly on the “King Midas in Reverse” single (1967). Its relatively modest commercial success didn’t augur well for his influence over the band’s direction, and their next 45s were solidly in the more tried-and-true romantic tradition. By 1968, though, Nash really felt constrained by the band’s commercial orientation, and by the end of the year he was gone, left for the States to help found Crosby, Stills, & Nash. His departure really marked the end of the group’s peak era.

In 1969, the band tried to have their cake and eat it too by doing a whole album of Hollie-ized Dylan songs, which was received poorly by some critics, although it was a decent seller in Britain. Nash was replaced by Terry Sylvester (formerly of Liverpool bands the Escorts and Swinging Blue Jeans), and the hit streak continued for a while. “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother,” in fact, was one of their biggest international singles. But the group was really reaching a cul de sac; they’d managed a remarkably long run at the top considering that they hadn’t changed their formula much since the mid-’60s, adding enough sophistication to the lyrics and arrangements to avoid sounding markedly dated. It was apparent they really weren’t capable of producing long-playing works striking enough to appeal to the album audience, though, and their singles, though still hits on occasion, weren’t as memorable as their best ’60s work.

A modest slide in the early ’70s was arrested by “Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress,” aCreedence Clearwater Revival-type rocker that made number two in the States in 1972. The timing wasn’t ideal; by the time it became a smash, Clarke, who had sung lead on the single, had left to go solo, to be replaced by Swedish vocalist Mikael Rikfors. Clarke re-joined in mid-1973, and the group had one last international monster, “The Air That I Breathe,” which made number six in the U.S. in 1974. The group went on to record a string of further albums in the second half of the 1970’s.

Curiously, mostly thanks to Clarke, they did pick up on Bruce Springsteen‘s work as a songwriter earlier than a lot of other acts, but not even their beautiful rendition of “Sandy” could avert their slide from the public’s consciousness. Most of their late 70’s releases were heavily influenced by the prevailing disco and dance-rock sounds of the era, although they never entirely abandoned their harmony vocal sound. Under other cirucmstances they might have pulled off a career conversion similar to that achieved by the Bee Gees after 1974, but luck wasn’t with the group and their output in this period was ignored, passed over by fans of thier old sound and the disco audience alike. This coincided with a decision by their American label, Epic Records — apparently conceding that the Hollies would never sell large numbers of LPs regardless of how big their hits ever were — to minimize the marketing efforts invested in the band’s records, essentially running out the clock on their contract. Ironically, the label ended up passing on the one LP the group issued in the late 1970’s that would have reached out to old and new audiences, the concert album originally titled Hollies Live. It ended up getting reviewed enthusiastically in numerous American magazines and newspapers as a Canadian import. The group seemed to reach a dead end in the early 1980’s, with Sylvester and Calvert exiting suddenly during that period.

The Hollies received a small boost in press interest in America during 1983, however, whenGraham Nash rejoined for one LP (What Goes Around), but even this proved a false start — the album got reviews, but the latter were often negative, and a tour by this line-up had to be hastily re-booked into smaller halls. The group continued to play concerts and make beautiful records, but there was no public demand for the latter and by the 1990s they’d ceased recording regularly. As the twenty-first century beckoned, Allan Clarke — after nearly 40 years as the lead vocalist for the band — found that his singing didn’t come to him as strongly or as well as he was used to, and he decided to retire, leaving Hicks and Elliott as the last two core members of the group. Clarke’s successor was Carl Wayne, the one-time lead singer of the 1960’s Birmingham-spawned band the Move. In 2003, EMI Records recognized the Hollies’ musical significance with a huge (and hugely satisfying) six-CD box set, The Long Road Home: 1963-2003, covering every era and major line-up in the group’s history.

Biography by Richie Unterberger & Bruce Eder

The Hi-Lo’s were one of the more creative and influential male vocal quartets of the 1950s, matching intricate harmonies with standards that were given big band-pop arrangements. Forming in Los Angeles in the early 1950s, they began recording in 1953, just in time for the LP era — an important consideration since The Hi-Lo’s did not have huge success in the singles market. They were all over television in the 1950s, appearing on 39 episodes ofThe Rosemary Clooney Show alone, as well as the shows of Steve Allen, Nat “King” Cole,Pat Boone and others. In the studio, they worked with talented arrangers like Frank Comstock and Marty Paich, and hit their commercial peak with three Top 20 albums on Columbia in 1957 (one recorded with Clooney). Their inventive shadings and the wide range (particularly in the upper register) were, as is well-known, influences on Brian Wilson, and also, as is much less well-known, John Phillips. Wilson and Phillips would apply some of that harmonic influence to recordings with their groups, The Beach Boys and The Mamas And The Papas. Recent jazz-pop groups such as The Manhattan Transfer also have a significant debt to The Hi-Lo’s.

Biography by Richie Unterberger

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Although the Fleetwoods’ sound was smooth, without many of the rougher edges of doo wop groups, they were one of the few vocal groups of the late ‘50s and early ‘60s to enjoy success not only on the pop charts, but also the R&B charts.  The Fleetwoods’ forte was ballads – beginning with their 1959 debut single Come Softly to Me, which became a million selling number 1 gold record.  The group racked up a number of Top forty hits over the next three years including Graduations Here, and Mr. Blue, and nearly all of them were ballads.  Although the group never recorded together after 1963, their songs – particularly “Come Softly to Me” – became pop-rock classics of the pre-British Invasion era.

The original members of the group, Gary Troxel, Gretchen Christopher, and Barbara Ellis, met while attending Olympia High School in Olympia, Washington.  Originally a female duo, they initially recruited Troxel to play trumpet.  The girls had composted a song while, independently, Troxel had written a hook that went “n-do-be-do dum dum-dum do dum.”  They put them together and Come Softly to Me was born.  They began performing the song at Olympia High and were met with “why don’t you record it”.  Christopher was dancing at the time in Seattle and metBob Reisdorff, who was in the process of starting his own record label.  The group tape recorded the song and Christopher took it to him and he was excited about it.  Reisdorff and business associate Bonnie Guitar launched Dolphin (later Dolton) Records with the release of Come Softly to Me.

Chart fame was instant for the distinctive trio and the haunting and catchy song (on which the vocal was recorded acapella) shot to the top of the U.S. Charts, number five on the R&B charts, and reached the Top Ten in U.K.

Mr. Blue, a Dewayne Blackwell song originally written for the Platters, was also “number one” and made Troxel one of the leaders in the teen idol stakes.  In the midst of their success he had to serve two years of active duty in the Navy.  Vic Dana, who later became a solo star, replacedTroxel on tours when necessary.  Despite Troxel’s absence, the hits continued totaling nine Top 40 hits between 1959 and 1963 and included the Top ten hit Tragedy, a revival of the Thomas Wayne song.  The Fleetwoods recorded a total ten albums for Liberty Records.  Since that time there have been numerous Fleetwoods’ records repackaged with the best being in Troxel’s opinion“Come Softly to Me The Very Best of The Fleetwoods” released in 1993 on EMI.

The Fleetwoods performed a few “oldies” revival shows in the early 1970’s.  In the late 70’s Ellisand Troxel did a couple of shows together and re-recorded their hits for K-Tel records.  In the early 1980’s, Ellis decided to retire from performing.  Troxel teamed up again with Christopherand replacement Cheryl Huggins.  They performed together until 1985.

Currently both Gretchen Christopher and Gary Troxel each continue to perform with their individual groups at PBS television Doo Wop shows, oldies concerts, special private functions, and nightclub showrooms and performing arts centers throughout the country.  Each has recorded various CD’s of Fleetwoods standard hits and other material.

The Fleetwoods have been inducted into:
2006            The Vocal Group Hall of Fame
2006            Doo-Wop Hall Of Fame of America
2005            Olympia High School Alumni Hall of Fame
1988            Northwest Music Hall of Fame

Christopher’s websites are:  www.thefleetwoods.com, www.fleetwoods.com.  E-Mail: Gretchen@thefleetwoods.com.
Christopher continues to perform as a soloist and as The Fleetwoods featuring Gretchen Christopher.

Troxel asks to be billed as The Fleetwoods featuring original lead singer Gary Troxel.
Troxel’s website is:  www.thefleetwoods.us.  E-Mail:  garyfleetwood@aol.com, ndobedo@aol.com

By The Vocal Group Hall of Fame
Based on a biography by Stephen Thomas Erlewine