The 500 - #109 - Aftermath - The Rolling Stones

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album: #109
Album Title: Aftermath
Artist: The Rolling Stones
Genre: Rock & Roll, Blues Rock, Art Rock
Recorded: RCA Studios, Hollywood, USA

Released: April, 1966
My age at release: Eight months
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple of songs
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #330, dropping 221 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Paint It Black

Like many of this generation, I’m on several group text threads. Some are made up of close, dear friends and our conversations are varied. Others are looser and organized around sports, comedy, or specific shared interests. These threads have mixed demographics. They are populated by both good friends,  acquaintances, and even strangers. Among them are “threaders” who  enjoy sharing their scores from a variety of daily word games -- Wordle, Connections, Quordle, and Reunion. There are some participants whom I have never met. In one of the groups there’s a guy I know, but not particularly well. He is, without fail, regularly angry.

Every time he weighs in, I think of the Grandpa Simpson "yells at cloud" meme. According to him, social media is ruining everything. The world is falling apart. Kids these days are hopeless. Apparently, Blue Jays players wear too much jewelry, and for some reason that’s a sign of cultural decay. Some of his comments are delivered loudly and with a bitterness wildly out of proportion with his complaints.

The other day he fired off another take that felt like a shot across my bow, and, as I have a few times before, I clapped back. Not angrily, or at least not consciously, but with a sarcastic edge that maybe went a touch too far. I gleaned this by the way the rest of the group reacted: “Wow, Hodgy shows his teeth,” someone joked. Another chimed in: “I’m staying out of this one.”

Undeterred, he followed up with a explanatory message, doubling down and justifying his point. I didn’t reply. I just moved on. Besides, my wife wanted to catch our current favourite show on television. Granted, watching the superhero satire The Boys probably wasn’t the best choice as it only magnified what I was trying to leave behind. It’s wildly entertaining for the less squeamish, but it’s also a grim mirror of our moment, where outrage is amplified, rewarded, and, so far, unresolved.

The next day, a couple of friends from that chat group checked in. They didn't say anything directly, but I could tell these were "you good?" inquiries. This was kind and I appreciated it. I wasn’t upset. I didn’t feel wronged. I wasn’t harboring resentment. I still don’t. I’ll keep chatting in that group about hockey and music, sending jokes and harmless memes. I also know, without illusion, that I am not changing this guy’s opinions, temperament, or default negativity with a single sarcastic retort.

And yet here I am, writing about it. I do see the contradiction there.

Which brings me, oddly enough, to the Rolling Stones’ Aftermath. an album soaked in sarcasm and bitterness, lyrically abrasive, often confrontational, and a little misogynistic. Aftermath doesn’t invite you in. It pushes back at you. It argues. It sneers. It insists on having the last word.

Maybe that’s what put me on edge. Or maybe listening to Aftermath simply sharpened my awareness of a tone I recognize too well...the satisfaction of winning an argument, the hollow little triumph of being right, the way sarcasm can feel sharp and clever in the moment, but leave a faint, bitter aftertaste once the noise dies down and everyone moves on.

Part of what makes Aftermath such an interesting listen is that it exists in two forms. The original U.K. version, released in April of 1966, runs longer with 14 tracks, while the American version, released two months later, trims down to 10 shared songs and adds just one more. But what an addition it is! That extra song went on to become a signature piece for the London-based rockers, Paint It Black.  It went to #1 for 11 weeks in 1966 and is a hit that they still play at concerts as recently as last summer.

60 years ago this week.

Paint It Black is one of the darker songs on Aftermath. While much of the album argues (Doncha Bother Me), sneers (Stupid Girl), and asserts control (Under My Thumb), Paint It Black sounds singularly fixated. There’s no smirk in it, no sense of winning. Its themes of grief and alienation appropriately fitted the era in which it was written. In 1966, post-war optimism was fading, The Kennedy Assassination was a vivid memory, and the war in Vietnam was escalating.

Album jacket for the single, Paint It Black.

Listening to both versions of Aftermath, especially the U.S. label with Paint It Black, I couldn’t help but notice how easily sarcasm and negativity can slip into certainty and disposition and then how quickly certainty can curdle into abrasion. Aftermath doesn’t ask you to agree with it. It dares you to. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why my patience ran a little thinner than usual, and why a single group text exchange became hotter than it should.

Aftermath, it turns out, is less interested in reconciliation than it is in having the last word. I suppose that is also my default setting. And perhaps "yelling at clouds" is necessary sometimes. 

The 500 - #112 - If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears - The Mama's And The Papa's

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album: #112
Album Title: If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears
Artist: The Mama's and The Papa's
Genre: Folk Rock, Pop Rock, Sunshine Pop
Recorded: Western Recording Studios, Los Angeles, California

Released: February, 1966
My age at release: 7 months
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple of songs
Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Spanish Harlem

Before we even get to the music, we need to talk about the apostrophe.

Not the fantastic Frank Zappa record from 1974 and not, as my students often protest, whether they can use “it’s” correctly.

"But, Mr. H., if a bone belongs to your dog... why don't you write 'It's bone'?"

Because  the dog prefers its bones without an apostrophe.

Seriously, I’m talking about decorative apostrophes; rogue apostrophes; apostrophes that seem to have been sprinkled on a page as if delivered by a pepper shaker. The ones that are just there, doing nothing, contributing nothing except, perhaps, silently daring English aficionados to notice. Such is the case with the album jacket for the debut record from "The Mama’s and the Papa’s"; If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears.

Alternative album cover for the group's debut record.
(l-r) Cass Elliot, Denny Doherty, John Phillips and Michelle Phillips.

Now, I want to be very clear: I know it is not wise, kind, or good etiquette to point out other people’s bad grammar. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I am reminded of the Quentin Crisp quote (and later Sting lyric), “It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile.”

Fair enough, it takes a gentleman to smile politely in the face of ignorance, but it requires an English teacher to whisper: “You don’t need that apostrophe.”

Of course, that Crisp quote is a little pompous, too, isn’t it? The idea that noticing something, quietly judging it and then making sure people know that you could have commented, but chose not to because you are a gentleman is a tad arrogant.

Book cover for Crisp's autobiography.

Now, I am someone who deeply believes grammar matters, not just because it makes us smarter, but because it helps us understand each other. It is also my job to help students improve their writing, and that includes correcting their grammar in a slow, methodical way. One can not bombard a 12-year-old with every grammar rule. Instead, we work our way through rules throughout the year and add them to a growing checklist we use to proofread our work.

The checklist my students are currently using.

The Mamas and Papas album cover provides me with a wonderful teaching opportunity. I plan to show it to my students during an upcoming grammar lesson and ask them if they can spot the editing mistake. Showing students real‑world grammar errors is a powerful way to make learning feel tangible and relevant. However, it once (almost) backfired on me.

I was walking home from the YMCA in downtown London when I noticed that a new pizza shop had opened. The sign read “Pizza Round’s”...with a superfluous apostrophe. I snapped a photo with my phone, fully intending to use it in a future Grade 4 writing lesson.

Pizza Round's restaurant sign, with additional apostrophe.

A few days later, a lovely, sweet and kind student in my class asked if she could hand out coupons to the class from her parents’ new restaurant which was, as you've probably already guessed, the aforementioned “Pizza Round’s”. Needless to say, that "teachable moment" was shelved, permanently.

Which brings us to The Mamas & the Papas, a band whose debut album contains some of the most glorious vocal harmonies of the 1960s, and whose name would eventually be spelled without apostrophes. Interestingly, however, it wasn’t a grammar error that prompted the album’s reprinting in 1966.

It was the toilet.

That spring, records were quietly pulled from store shelves when the original cover, featuring the band posed in a bathtub, with a toilet clearly visible in the corner, was deemed indecent. As a result, original pressings of the album became instant collector’s items, with some copies later fetching as much as $300 at auction. Subsequent releases featured a strategically placed white rectangle listing the album’s hit singles -- Monday, Monday and California Dreamin’ -- carefully obliterating the offending facility.

Alternate cover, showing members  (l-r) Denny Doherty, Cass Elliot, 
John Phillips and Michelle Phillips. 

Once I got past the grammar error, I settled in to listen to a beautifully crafted record and one that is easy and pleasant to listen to. The quartet's harmonies are spectacular and I most enjoyed the track Spanish Harlem, which was originally recorded by soul legend Ben E. King.

Lyric from Spanish Harlem.

In the hands of The Mamas and the Papas, the melody, much like the rose in the song’s lyrics. unfolds slowly and patiently. Elliot’s voice enters not to dominate, but to deepen. It’s a song about noticing beauty where you least expect it, and that feels like a far better use of my attention than searching for grammatical missteps.

(Mama) Cass Elliot.

Speaking of which, I’ll finish this post here and send it off to my father, who edits my work weekly. I trust that if any rogue apostrophes have slipped through, he’ll find them and fix them, with a gentlemanly smile. Maybe I should put one in just for fun.

The 500 - #195 - Blues Breakers - John Mayall with Eric Clapton

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #195
Album Title: Blues Breakers 

Artist: John Mayall with Eric Clapton

Genre: Blues, Blues Rock
Recorded: Decca Studios, London
Released: July, 1966
My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite
Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Double Crossing Time

Once again, as has been documented in this blog series, there is a record on The 500 list that I discovered through the Eric Clapton box set Crossroads. In 1988, I wanted to learn more about the Blues genre in music and felt that a deeper dive into the music of Clapton would be a good crash course.

It turns out that, in a time before streaming services and easy Google searches, Crossroads was a wise and fortuitous purchase. The four-CD (72-song) compilation contained music from albums that now occupy nine spots on The 500 list.

• Eric Clapton has two records on the list as a solo artist. (461 Ocean Boulevard at #411 and Slowhand at #325).

• Cream (featuring Eric Clapton on guitar) have three entries. (Wheels of Fire at #205, Disraeli Gears at #144 and Fresh Cream #102).

• The Yardbirds have two records (one with Clapton). (Having A Rave Up at #355 and Roger The Engineer #350)

• Derek and the Dominos (again, with Clapton) have one. (Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs at #117)

Finally, this debut record, Blues Breakers, from English blues-rock band John Mayall and The Bluesbreakers appears at position #195. Colloquially, this is often dubbed The Beano Album, because Clapton can be seen reading a 1966 issue of Beano comics magazine on the cover of the Blues Breaker album.

Issue #1242 of Beano, published May 7, 1966 -
being "read" by Clapton on the Blues Breaker album cover

Beano, originally The Beano Comic, was a weekly newsprint publication by the Scottish company DC Thomson. Debuting in July, 1938, it is the best-selling comic publication outside of Japan, with more than two billion issues sold. It is available today, through subscription or in convenience stores and supermarkets throughout the U.K. There are also hardcover "annuals" traditionally published in August (in plenty of time for the Christmas season).

The cover for the 2024 edition of the Beano Annual,
celebrating 85 years of publication.

My first memories of Beano comics were from the early ‘70s when my family had temporarily relocated from Canada to the Greater Manchester (Rochdale, Littleborough) area. Sometimes, on walks with my elders, we would step into a Newsagents (a U.K. equivalent to a convenience store) and I would flip through the comic book selection while my pop, grandad or uncle chatted with the shopkeeper. If it was a good day, I might get a copy of Beano (or its sister magazine, Dandy) and perhaps even a sugary treat to go with it. I was a big fan of Curly Wurlys, Mars Bars, Flakies and Fruit Pastilles.

Modern packaging for a classic British treat - mine came in a 
tightly wrapped tube.

I remained an avid reader of Beano and collected issues every time I returned to England for visits. My mom, attuned to my interest, purchased Beano & Dandy Annuals for me regularly, continuing the tradition well into my thirties. I made them available to my students as part of my classroom library. Sadly, the few that remain are quite battered. I've moved them to a cupboard. I am concerned that some of the "gags" and "jokes" within the covers might not have aged well.

My grade 4 students learning how to pickle in 2012. A copy
of the Dandy Annual can be seen on my cluttered shelves at 
the back - circled in red.

My favourite bit of trivia about Beano magazine involves one of their longest running strips and a character named Dennis The Menace who has a wire-haired hound named Gnasher. The character is a badly-behaved schoolboy who pulls pranks and terrorizes a group of well-behaved classmates he dubs "The Softies". The main target of Dennis' scorn is a well-groomed, and effeminate boy named Walter the Softy. (See what I mean about the jokes not aging well?) That said, Walter often gets the last laugh on Dennis in many of the weekly strips.

Dennis the Menace and Gnasher.

North American audiences are likely familiar with a different version of Dennis the Menace. Created by American cartoonist Hank Ketchum, this daily newspaper comic strip centres on a blond, freckle-faced, five-year-old boy growing up in a middle class Kansas neighbourhood.

Unlike his dark-haired British counterpart, this Dennis is kind-hearted and his antics occur when he makes a genuine effort to help others. It is his enthusiastic naivety, coupled with his ebullient energy, that leads to comedic misadventures -- often at the expense of his beleaguered neighbour, Mr. Wilson.

Fascinatingly, the two characters debuted on the same day, March 12, 1951, without any of the creators or production team being aware of the other's project. Consequently, both were able to retain the rights to the character’s names.

As a kid who regularly traversed the Atlantic, spending time in Canada and England, I was, initially, a fan of both versions. However, I quickly grew bored of the U.S. version of Dennis. It was sappy and often over-sentimental. Blond Dennis was a playful, well-meaning scamp, with many jokes of the “kids say the darndest things" variety. Even as an eight-year-old, it felt like the U.S. comic was either trying to teach me a life lesson or working way too hard to get me to laugh at Dennis' malapropism and idiom gaffes.

The British Dennis with his peashooters, water pistols and slingshot seemed dangerous. His antics were ferocious and unpredictable and when they inevitably failed, he faced brutal repercussions -- often in some form of corporal punishment from his teachers and parents. In some strips, Dennis even ends up hospitalized.

The stark difference between the "antics" of the two Dennis characters.

Just the act of reading those strips felt rebellious. Even his dog Gnasher, with its spiky black hair, ferocious teeth and sinister demeanor was terrifying -- and I couldn't get enough.

While preparing this post, my rabbit-hole research led me to a 2016 article from James Parker, originally published in Smithsonian Magazine. Parker goes even further to connect these two Dennis variations to their respective homelands with the following quote:

"American Dennis radiated the irrepressible energy of a young republic. In contrast, British Dennis represented a form of transgression that didn’t even exist in the United States. He emerged during a time of class struggle and waning empire, when the U.K. establishment feared the oik, the yob, the ungovernable prole. In short, British Dennis was a proto-punk-rock-hooligan."

It would be a stretch to suggest that Clapton's "reading" of Beano on the cover of Blues Breaker held any significance. It seems more likely that the notoriously prickly guitarist was either bored with the photo shoot or amplifying his general disinterest with the entire experience. Sure, Clapton, Mayall and the other members of the band (John McVie and Hughie Flint) were from working class backgrounds. However, connecting the dots between the economic struggles of these musicians and a transgressive comic strip would require the musical history equivalent to a yoga master.

Blues Breakers (l-r) Mayall, Clapton, McVie, Flint

Clapton, despite his well documented reputation as a jerk, is the only individual to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame three times -- as a solo artist and a member of Cream and The Yardbirds. Mayall, who passed away this year - July, 2024 - will be inducted this October. Although it will be a posthumous induction, Mayall did learn about the honour in April, a few months before he died at 90.

I'm glad I discovered Mayall's distinctive and powerful voice when I wisely purchased that Crossroads record...26 years ago.

 

The 500 - #202 - Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme - Simon and Garfunkel

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #202
Album Title: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
Artist: Simon And Garfunkel

Genre: Folk Rock
Recorded: Columbia Studios, New York, U.S.A.

Released: October, 1966
My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: A Simple Desultory Philippic

There is a quote, often ascribed to Vladimir Lenin, which says: "There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen." During our summer of 2024, this seems powerfully applicable. We live in a time charged with international tension, wars, assassination attempts, consequential worldwide election campaigns, a humanitarian crisis, racial and cultural hostility, and environmental disasters.

1966 had its own upheavals. It, too, was time of global strife, with events that, in some ways, are eerily similar to the summer of 2024.

• Political protests against U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War were raging on college campuses.
• The Mississippi Marches sought an end to segregation and advancements in civil rights, while the Watts Rebellions protested racist police actions in Los Angeles.
• Military coup d états rocked Indonesia, Syria, Burundi, Nigeria, the Central African Republic and Ghana.
• Cold War Russian/U.S. tensions moved into the heavens. The Soviets blasted two Kosmos spacecraft into orbit, while the U.S. launched the Gemini program. The race for space supremacy was on in earnest.

Astronaut Buzz Aldrin takes the first "selfie" from space (1966)

• A U.S. submarine lost (and then found) a hydrogen bomb on the ocean floor.
• Mao Zedong introduced China's Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution to his people and abortion and gun-rights took centre stage in the election of Ronald Regan as Governor of California. (Spoiler: the Republican former actor wasn’t on the side you might think...for either issue.)
• Natural disasters, including earthquakes, tornadoes, record cold spells and snowstorms claimed thousands of lives.
• However, it was an avoidable, man-made tragedy that made headlines in Aberfan, Wales. On October 21, 116 children and 28 adults died when a coal waste heap slid and engulfed a primary school.

Aftermath of the coal waste slide in Aberfan in southern Wales.

Throughout this tumultuous period, arts and entertainment thrived -- perhaps fueled by chaos, acrimony and uncertainty of the times. Twelve records on The 500, including three in the Top 10, were released in 1966. An additional 19 records on the list were recorded that year and released in 1967, among them, The Beatles' Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, which landed at #1.

Then, there was album #202, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme, the third studio release from folk rock musicians Simon and Garfunkel. It was the second of three records by the New York duo to appear on the list, although Simon has an additional two as a solo artist. I shared a little about their history, as well as a story about my late "aunt" Jean in a December, 2023, post centered on their fourth record, Bookends.

Album cover for Bookends (1968).

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme includes several songs that were "recycled" from Simon's debut solo record, The Paul Simon Songbook, written during his time in England. PSR&T is considered a breakthrough record for the pair and many critics identify it one of their best. It peaked at #4 on the Billboard charts but eventually sold more than three million in the United States, which gave it triple platinum status.

Album cover for The Paul Simon Songbook (1965).

I was familiar with several songs from the record; however, prior to this week, I had never listened to it in its entirety. The song that struck me has a title that is a mouthful: A Simple Desultory Philippic (or How I Was Robert McNamara'd into Submission). Originally recorded on the aforementioned Simon Songbook, the tune was penned as a playful parody of American musician Bob Dylan's 1965 protest song Subterranean Homesick Blues.

Single for A Simple Desultory Philippic.

In an interview with Rolling Stone Magazine, Simon admits he was exploring Dylan's style, saying:

"One of my deficiencies is (that) my voice sounds sincere. I've tried to sound ironic. I don't. I can't. With Dylan, everything he sings has two meanings. He's telling you the truth and making fun at the same time."

With a playing length of fewer than two and a half minutes, this lyrically dense parody packs a lot of references into its three verses and six line bridge. Simon name-checks numerous contemporary politicians and artists, including Norman Mailer, The Beatles, Mick Jagger, Ayn Rand, Andy Warhol, Lou Adler, Lenny Bruce, and even his singing partner, Art Garfunkel.

Simon (rear) and Garfunkel in New York (1966).

When asked about the title in an interview, Simon offered the following:

"I was having fun. I thought it would be funny to use those unusual words 'desultory' and 'philippic,' in a song title, and I also wanted to sneak in some Lenny Bruce, who was my favorite comedian. That line, 'How I Was Robert McNamara'd Into Submission,' is pure Lenny."

To be desultory is to be laid back or indifferent, while a philippic is a bitter, verbal attack. It's derived from a speech Greek Statesman Demosthenes delivered in opposition to the military ambitions of Philip II, King of Macedon, in 351 B.C. Heady stuff to be sure, but all presented with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Simon's clever and reference-dense lyrical satire got the educator in me thinking. I have, in the past, invited students to rewrite or parody lyrics to songs that lend themselves to that challenge -- swapping out more contemporary or personal events for a stanza in Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire, for example.

Billy Joel's 1989 song, We Didn't Start The Fire, is a fast paced list
of 119 significant cultural events from 1949 (his birth year) to 1989.

Just last year, several clever groups of Grade 7 students rewrote and performed two stanzas from The Breaks, from Kurtis Blow. The 1979 hip-hop hit, the first of the "rap" genre, features four line stanzas that follow a predictable AABB rhyming scheme. In each, Blow comically describes unfortunate situations that people encounter in life and have to deal with because, "That's the breaks."

Album cover for the single, The Breaks, Kurtis Blow (1979)

The activity, which can be viewed in its entirety here, offered students the chance to rewrite the track by humourously infusing contemporary problems. I even created a Karaoke-style track that the most courageous could use to perform their rap, while classmates supported them with the "That's the Breaks / That's the Breaks" call and response.

\My example (which I absolutely rapped for the wide-eyed class) is below.

So, after hearing Simon's lyrics for A Simple Desultory Philippic, I wondered if I could update it and infuse personal political and pop culture perspectives. 

The challenge I gave myself was to try to match Simon's overall construction and rhyme scheme, while swapping out his '60s references with my own ('80s-Present). I tried to stick to his meter, but that proved too challenging. If you are interested in seeing the original lyrics and then reading my parody of Simon's parody of a Dylan song, check it out here. I am not sure if this has "middle school lesson potential" yet -- but, we'll see.

This post and that small creative exercise were a pleasant respite from the chaos of the summer of 2024 which, sadly, beckons my return to reality. That's the breaks!  Thanks for reading.