Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts

Sunday, 29 March 2026

The 500 - #115 - The Who Sell Out - The Who

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.



Album #:115
Album Title: The Who Sell Out 
Artist: The Who
Genre: Rock, Art Pop, Power Pop, Mod Pop
Recorded: Multiple Studios in London, Nashville, Los Angeles and New York
Released: December, 1967
My age at release: 2
How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #316, dropping 201 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: I Can See For Miles
In the mid‑eighties, during a stretch when my Who obsession was in full bloom, I must have picked up The Who Sell Out a dozen times in local record shops, debating whether to add it to my growing collection. The cover alone made it hard to resist. Guitarist/singer Pete Townshend rolling an oversized deodorant stick under his arm beside lead vocalist Roger Daltrey, soaking in a bathtub of baked beans. Flip it over and the spoof ads continue. There is drummer Keith Moon smearing acne cream across his face, and bassist John Entwistle draped in cheetah print with a bikini‑clad model on his arm, pitching a Charles Atlas fitness program. It was all so wonderfully odd.
Back cover to The Who Sells Out.
Despite the lure of that wonderfully bizarre cover, I never actually bought the album. After spending time listening to it on Spotify recently, I wish I had. The whole record is a bright, mischievous collage of styles and sounds. It runs the gamut, from the satirical mini‑commercials (the brassy, almost Monty Pythonesque Heinz Baked Beans is my favourite) to explosive rockers such as I Can See For Miles. But then it surprises the listener with tender moments such as I Can’t Reach You or Sunrise. I played it for my wife on a drive from London to Niagara Falls and found myself pointing out how each track feels like a quick, clever burst of creativity. If one doesn’t grab you, just wait a minute. The Who will soon be chasing the next idea.
Album sleeve for single, I Can See For Miles.
There are several versions of this album floating around on Spotify. You can start with the original mono release, 13 tracks exactly as listeners heard them in 1967. There’s also the 1995 Deluxe Edition, which adds 10 bonus cuts, including a wonderfully unhinged psychedelic rock take on In the Hall of the Mountain King by Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg (1843–1907). And for the completists, the 2009 multi‑disc set offers both the stereo and original mono mixes, plus roughly thirty additional outtakes, ads, and curiosities that reveal just how much fun the band was having in the studio.
As I was scrolling through the various editions on Spotify, one cover stopped me cold. It featured a brunette woman standing in for Townshend and Daltrey, complete with deodorant roll‑on and a bathtub of baked beans. The album was titled Petra Haden Sings: The Who Sell Out. Intrigued, I pressed play and was instantly rewarded. What I’d stumbled upon was a fully a cappella re‑creation of the record. Every instrumental line and harmony was not simply sung, but magnificently layered, textured and performed entirely by the voice of the woman on that cover, the astonishingly talented Petra Haden.
Album cover to Petra Haden Sings: The Who Sells Out.
My research, which had begun with the four lads from West London, England, took a sharp turn and landed me across the Atlantic with a multi‑instrumentalist from New York City. Born in 1971, she is one of three triplet sisters, the daughters of the legendary jazz bassist Charlie Haden. Among his many accomplishments, Charlie spent years playing with Ornette Coleman. Their shared credits include the 1959 record The Shape of Jazz to Come, an album I wrote about in September, 2023, when it appeared at #248 on The 500.
Charlie Haden (1937-2014)
Musical brilliance clearly runs deep in the family. Her sister, Rachel Haden, plays bass for the Los Angeles rock band That Dog, while their other triplet, Tanya, is an accomplished artist, cellist, and singer, married to one of my all‑time favourite entertainers – actor, musician and comedian Jack Black. Imagine the creativity bursting out at their family reunions? I'd gladly man the barbeque just to be a "fly-on-the-wall" observer.
Jack Black and his wife, Tanya Haden.
As the story goes, it was musician and producer Mike Watt who suggested that Petra Haden record this all-vocal version of The Who’s third record, Sells Out. Watt recently toured with Iggy Pop and The Stooges (three records on The 500) and was also with the punk band Minutemen. My late friend Claudio Sossi wrote about the album Double Nickles on the Dime (#413) back in July, 2020. At Watt’s urging, Petra began this massive project.

Mike Watt.
She took the idea seriously, and ambitiously, with the goal of recreating the entire original album front-to-back -- not just the songs but the commercials, textures and instrumental lines, using only layered vocals. Every guitar riff, bass line, drum fill, horn blast, jingle, and harmony is sung by Petra herself, meticulously overdubbed track-by-track. It took her three years to complete and, when she decided to perform it live, she needed to assemble a 10-woman choir, which she dubbed The Sellouts.
Petra Haden (middle) and the Sellouts, perform the album live.
As it turns out, I saw Petra Haden perform long before I knew who she was. In 2006, my pal and frequent guest blogger, Steve “Lumpy” Sullivan, scored us box seats to see Bob Dylan at the then new John Labatt Centre in London, Ontario. The opening act was the Foo Fighters, who were performing their hard rock catalogue with acoustic arrangements. Providing violin and backing vocals on that tour was none other than the talented Ms. Haden.

My ticket stub for Bob Dylan, The Foo Fighters and Petra Haden.
I didn't end up buying The Who Sell Out in the ’80s, but after re-issues, re-discoveries, chance encounters, and one astonishing a cappella cover, it found me. If there’s a moral to this story, it’s this: trust your curiosity, follow the weird detours, and never underestimate where a baked‑bean bathtub might lead.

Sunday, 25 January 2026

The 500 - #124 - Moby Grape - Moby Grape

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.


Album: #124
Album Title: Self-Titled Debut
Artist: Moby Grape
Genre: Psychedelic Rock, Power Pop, Country Rock
Recorded: CBC Studios, Hollywood, California
Released: June, 1967
My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all
Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: 8:05

Moby Grape album cover for their debut release

Features the band and manager Matthew Katz

I had never heard of Moby Grape. Not a song, not a story, not even a passing reference. The name might as well have been a lesser known character from one of Hanna‑Barbera's many animated series. Moby Grape could have been a chum of the character Jabberjaw or a participant in the Wacky Races animated series, riding alongside Penelope Pitstop as they try to overtake Dick Dastardly.
Some of the Hanna Barbera characters.
When I mentioned the band's name to my wife, she logically assumed I was talking about a new record called Grape, by the electronica, trip-hop artist Moby. 
Album cover for Play, by Moby - at #341 on The 500.
Shortly after I posted on social media that Moby Grape’s 1967 debut was next up in my journey through 2012 ‘s Rolling Stone Magazine's 500 Greatest Albums, something surprising happened. A few friends, who know music well, let me know that they had only recently discovered the group, or were familiar with just a few songs by them. In all cases, they had become fans of the American rock band from San Francisco.
Back in the 1960s, the corner of Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco was the
epicenter for counter-culture, psychedelia and music.
And once you start digging, you realize how strange that Moby Grape slipped through the cracks for so many of us. Their debut record, released on June 6, 1967, by Columbia Records, was recorded in just six weeks and blended psychedelic rock, power pop, country rock, blues, and folk. The group was a rarity, featuring laser‑tight musicianship from five members, all of whom sang and contributed to the song writing.
Critics at the time recognized the band’s versatility. The record contains short, punchy rock songs, including Hey Grandma, Mr. Blues and Omaha. But also has contrasting gentle acoustic moments and harmonies that brushed up against country‑rock before the genre even had a name. The album peaked at #24 on the Billboard 200 in 1967. It was a respectable achievement, though far from capturing the heights of recognition that even artists in the music power hub of San Francisco felt they deserved.
Album jacket for the single release of Hey Grandma and
Come In The Morning.
The band was a kind of supergroup, assembled out of the rising mid‑'60s West Coast explosion. Formed in late 1966, the lineup brought together three gifted guitarists -- Jerry Miller, Peter Lewis, and Canadian‑born Skip Spence. Bassist Bob Mosley and drummer Don Stevenson rounded out the quintet. All five wrote, sang, and played, which gave them an almost over‑abundance of creative energy. Their early shows around San Francisco generated a buzz strong enough to spark a bidding war among labels, ultimately landing them at Columbia.
Moby Grape (l-r) Spence, Miller, Mosley, Lewis, Stevenson.
So, what went wrong, and how did we miss them? Given the talent and buzz, the band should’ve been unstoppable. Yet everything seemed to go wrong at once. Their manager, Matthew Katz, created years of legal and personal turmoil, including battles over the band’s own name, while Columbia Records sabotaged the album’s momentum by releasing five singles on the same day, confusing radio stations and diluting what should’ve been a breakthrough.

On top of that, Skip Spence’s mental health rapidly declined, and he was hospitalized. Add in the internal conflict among five songwriters pulling in different directions; their arrival in the chaotic San Francisco scene where psychedelic giants favored long jams over Moby Grape’s tight, punchy songs -- and their downfall starts to look tragically inevitable. They made one extraordinary record, filled with the sound of a band that could’ve shaped the era, and, then, through a mix of mismanagement, misfires, and sheer bad luck, the opportunity for greatness slipped away.

Canadian drummer Alexander "Skip" Spence was considered
a bright light of the psychedelic scene. He played on records with
Jefferson Airplane, Quicksilver Messager Service, as well as Moby Grape.
One friend told me that although he was aware Moby Grape existed, he did not follow them further because of the group’s name. He reasoned  that "because of the silly name, they would be a bunch of hippy posers trying to latch onto the San Francisco psychedelic scene". The name itself is a punch line to an equally silly joke that the band had bantered about one day: "What's big and purple and lives in the sea?" A: "Moby Grape."
This got me thinking: "Which bands sound nothing like their name?" Some groups choose monikers that telegraph their genre. Metallica, Slayer and Motorhead sound exactly like the thunderous metal you'd expect. Their names practically scream distortion pedals and black T‑shirts. But plenty of other bands picked names that give you zero clues about what they actually sound like.

A few that always come to mind for me are:

Hoobastank, who sound like hard rock or nu-metal, but actually wrote the emotional ballad The Reason, which has become a standard at weddings.

Vampire Weekend sound like a goth-emo collective or a metal band sporting fake blood and capes. They are actually write preppy, upper‑east‑side indie jams with Afro‑pop guitars and collegiate charm.

The Violent Femmes conjure images of a west coast all-female "Riot Grrrl" punk rock quartet who write songs with unapologetic feminist fury. Instead, they play a mix of acoustic, folk-inspired punk with lyrics that are more quirky and clever than violent or angry.

How about you?
Are you familiar with Moby Grape?
What bands do, or don't sound like their name?

Despite the talent, the praise, the songs, and the promise,  Moby Grape somehow remained a band many of us only discovered by accident, decades later. However, this entire musical journey by blog has been one of discovery, and Moby Grape is now part of my extensive listening catalogue.

Sunday, 4 January 2026

The 500 - #127 - Younger Than Yesterday - The Byrds

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.


Album: #127
Album Title: Younger Than Yesterday
Artist: The Byrds
Genre: Folk Rock, Country Rock, Psychedelic Rock
Recorded: Columbia Studios, Hollywood, California
Released: February, 1967
My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: A few tracks
Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: My Back Pages
As I prepare to return to the classroom after a restorative and creative winter break, I’m reminded that January always feels like a fresh start...even though we’re already halfway through the school year.
Why? Because this time, planning feels different. In the summer, I’m guessing, imagining the learners I’ll meet based on experience teaching students of their age.

However, now, after months together, I know exactly who will be sitting in those desks. I know their quirks, their strengths and the challenges they are overcoming. More importantly, perhaps, they know me and are better prepared to respond to my expectations and the requirements of a middle school curriculum.

The Ontario Curriculum documents, that guide classroom instruction.
Together, we built something special in the first four months of the school year that started in September. It is a shared, collaborative, creative learning environment. And that changes everything. Preparation in January is not hypothetical; it’s personal. It’s about continuing a journey we’ve already started. I have prepared some (hopefully) engaging and exciting lessons and activities to kick off the first month of 2026, and I found myself reflecting on them while listening to Younger Than Yesterday, the fourth studio record by American folk rock band, The Byrds. In particular, their version of the song My Back Pages had me deep in thought during a long walk through a nearby wintery wood -(gotta burn off a few of those Christmas calories!).
Jacket sleeve for My Back Pages, by The Byrds.
Written and recorded by Bob Dylan for his 1964 record, Another Side Of Bob Dylan, the lyrics for My Back Pages are a philosophical meditation on the tension that comes between youthful certainty and the humility that arrives through life experience. The lyrics reflect on how convictions once held as absolutes can soften over time and how wisdom often comes when one embraces doubt and the complexities of life.
Album cover for Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964).
In the opening verse, Dylan layers vivid imagery of heat and fire to convey the intensity and impulsiveness of his youthful convictions. He wrote:

"Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rolling high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
"We'll meet on edges, soon," said I
Proud 'neath heated brow."

Conversely, the song's refrain, Dylan pens the seemingly paradoxical line:

“I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now”,

These eleven words, which repeat throughout the song, capture an odd contradiction inherent in our chronological and philosophical growth. As we mature, we learn to accept doubt for what it is, and see the world in shades of gray, rather than in black and white truths. It  allows us to  become more curious, and less rigid than in our younger years.

For Dylan, these lyrics were a confession about his earlier ignorance and a realization that many of his previous songs and public statements came from a time when he was young and less open minded.
Bob Dylan.
According to lead guitarist and vocalist Jim McGuinn, in 1967 The Byrds re-recorded the song to  align with their evolving artistic direction and thinking. By then, they were moving away from pure folk-rock and starting to embrace a more introspective, psychedelic sound. Dylan's lyrics, and his growth as an artist, resonated with that shift.
The Byrds (1967) (l-r) Chris Hillman,David Crosby, 
Michael Clark and McGuinn. 
Among the activities I have planned for my students this month are several focused on critical thinking and media literacy skills. Like many educators, I recognize the teaching profession has a responsibility to help students navigate an information-overloaded  world in which truth and opinion often blur. The goal is for them to question sources, analyze bias, and consider how messages are constructed. Such skills are essential not only for academic success but for becoming thoughtful, informed citizens.
However, as I prepared my lessons, I reflected on Dylan's refrain in My Back Pages and affirmed to myself that making mistakes is part of the learning process. It is the path to making sound decisions.. . My young charges deserve the opportunity and time to wrestle with their own lack of knowledge, much like Dylan did in the mid-sixties. Intellectual growth doesn’t happen in a straight line; It happens through missteps, reflection, and recalibration. My role isn’t to drag them to the “right” answer but to shepherd them toward it.
One day, they’ll arrive at their own conclusions, not because I forced them down the best path, but because they discovered it themselves. And who knows, with the passage of time, the path of old may have become passe, replaced by a new, more fitting route. That’s when I’ll say to myself, once again:

"I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now".


Sunday, 24 August 2025

The 500 - #146 - Surrealistic Pillow - Jefferson Airplane

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. 


Album: #146
Album Title: Surrealistic Pillow
Artist: Jefferson Airplane
Genre: Folk Rock, Psychedelic Rock, Acid Rock
Recorded: RCA Victor Studios, Hollywood, California, USA
Released: February, 1967
My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: Several Songs
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #471, dropping 324 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: White Rabbit
In 2004, the hottest show on television was Lost, a mystery-adventure drama about plane crash survivors stranded on a mysterious island. As they struggled to survive, each episode revealed their past through strategically placed flashback sequences, deepening the intrigue surrounding both the characters and the island’s secrets. By the winter break that year I, along with 35 million North American viewers, was hooked. In a time before streaming services, it was appointment viewing -- Wednesdays at 8 p.m.. When reruns began airing during the winter, I started recording episodes with the goal of building a multi-curricular unit around Season One for middle school children.
The following spring, I work-shopped my newly created Lost Unit with my Grade 8 class, and, as expected, they were riveted. Their enthusiasm carried into every reading, writing, math, science and discussion activity, creating a level of engagement unlike anything I’d seen in my first decade of teaching. I used their feedback to refine the unit, and later drew on that experience to complete my Master’s Degree in Education, which I began in the fall of 2006.
As the Lost Unit expanded in both scope and structure, I became increasingly fascinated by how deeply students connected with the series and its characters. They were captivated by the mysteries and hyper-focused on subtle details hidden throughout each episode, often referencing clues, debunking red herrings and reveling in plot twists with remarkable insight. This engagement translated into noticeable improvements in their writing, speaking, and critical thinking skills.
My Master’s research focused on student engagement, particularly among 12 - 14 year-olds. At the time, I believed I had stumbled upon something revolutionary and was feeling pretty confident that I would reveal groundbreaking revelations to the education community. However, I was quickly disabused of that notion when I discovered the work of Kieran Egan, a professor of education at Simon Fraser University. Egan had already articulated many of the ideas I was exploring, especially through his theory of Imaginative Education. His collection of essays, Children’s Minds, Talking Rabbits & Clockwork Oranges, became a cornerstone of my studies. I devoured Egan’s body of work, recognizing in his writing the theoretical foundation for what I had observed in my classroom.
In summary, Lost fits many of the touchstones of imaginative learning highlighted in his essays. The show was rich in the things pre-teen and teen learners are cognitively designed to connect with, including:
  • Compelling Storytelling
  • Mystery and Wonder
  • Emotionally Engaging Characters
  • Symbolism and Metaphor
  • Cross Curricular Connections
  • Philosophical and Ironic Thinking
Unravelling the mysteries in each episode of Lost could even begin with the episode titles, which I used to prompt discussion and prediction. One of my favourites was Episode 4, White Rabbit, which is also the title of the tenth track on this week’s record, Surrealistic Pillow, by Jefferson Airplane -- a psychedelic-folk rock band from San Francisco whom I discussed in my April, 2021 post. White Rabbit is one of Jefferson Airplane’s biggest hits and is ranked at #455 in Rolling Stone Magazine’s 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (2021) as well as their song Somebody To Love from the same album. The latter sits at #274.
Airplane and the episode of Lost borrowed the term White Rabbit from the well known novel Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, published in 1865 by author Charles Dodgson (under the pen name Lewis Carroll), The “children’s book” follows the title character, Alice, who chases a white rabbit into an imaginative world filled with whimsical characters, unpredictable adventure and playful language. However, it is also filled with philosophical ideas, puzzles (logical and illogical) and satirical commentary on Victorian society.
The episode of Lost, with the same name, centers on a key protagonist, Jack, who is haunted by visions of his deceased father. He chases visions through the jungle, much like Alice chasing the rabbit. The title and theme reflect Jack’s internal struggle with leadership, grief, and identity, and also mark the beginning of his heroic journey in the series.
In White Rabbit, a physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, Jack discusses
leadership and the pursuit of "ghosts" with fellow castaway, John Locke.
A psychedelic classic, this week’s playlist selection, White Rabbit, uses imagery from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to explore themes of curiosity, altered perception and rebellion against conformity. As you might imagine, the exploration of the episode title from Lost can lead down a a veritable "rabbit hole" of discussion topics. This provides a teacher with plenty of options to connect students with classic literature, poetry, and literary devices -- including symbolism and metaphor. It is also a perfect place to discuss the pitfalls and risks of recreational drug use from the Ontario Health Curriculum.
Jack, middle, is pressed to make a leadership decision about the
dwindling water supply in the fourth episode of Lost; White Rabbit
Eventually, I built the Lost Unit into an eight-week syllabus and presented it to educators in my board and Ontario. It has been used by dozens of teachers and has been delivered to thousands of Grade 7 & 8 students. In fact, it has spread so far that I sometimes meet educators who, while we are discussing lesson plans, excitedly tell me about it -- not realizing that I am the author.
I’ve taken a break from the unit over the past two years. I was getting a little tired of delivering some of the lessons and my best teaching happens when I am deeply engaged in the material. However, I am debating a reworking of the lessons and activities for the upcoming school year. If there is an educator reading this post and is interested in the unit, feel free to reach out – tv14101@tvdsb.ca . It is fun to present the unit at the same time as another class so that students can share their writing in the same way I share this blog -- to an authentic audience.

Monday, 28 November 2022

The 500 = #289 - Something Else - The Kinks

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. 



Album: #289

Album Title: Something Else

Artist: The Kinks

Genre: Baroque Pop, Music Hall, R&B

Recorded: Pye Studios, London, UK

Released: September, 1967

My age at release: 2

How familiar was I with it before this week: One Song

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, dropping to #478 (since 2012)

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Waterloo Sunset

For me, my friends and, I suspect, many people of my age bracket, our first exposure to The Kinks was by way of Van Halen’s version of You Really Got Me.
I was also familiar with the cheeky 1970 hit, Lola, by The Kinks –a somewhat controversial song which chronicled a romantic encounter in Soho, London, between a man and a trans-woman. Over the years, I have heard a handful of Kinks songs, with A Dedicated Follower of Fashion being my favourite. However, I never purchased a Kinks record and, until recently, had never listened to a Kinks album in its entirety.
The English band was founded by brothers Ray and Dave Davies while still in high school. Ray was 18 and Dave was only 15 when they began performing at school dances under the names The Ray Davis Quintet, The Bo-Weevils, The Ramrods and The Ravens.

The Davies line-up temporarily featured a 17-year-old Rod Stewart on vocals before he went on to form his own group, Rod Stewart and The Moonrakers, who became a local rival for pub gigs in the North London region. By 1964, the group comprised the Davies brothers (guitars and vocals), Peter Quaife (bass) and Mick Avory (drums). They also settled on the name The Kinks which was intended to garner them attention because of its slightly naughty connotation.
The Kinks (1965) (l-r) Quaife, D. Davies, R. Davies, Avory
The group gained international fame with the release of You Really Got Me in 1964 when they began heavy touring. The schedule was grueling and tempers soon flared. The most notable incident was an on-stage fight between Dave Davies and Avory at the Capitol Theatre in Cardiff, Wales. Frustrated by his bandmate's playing, Davies insulted Avory and kicked over his drum set. Avory responded by hitting Davies in the head with a cymbal stand, knocking him unconscious. Thinking he had killed the guitarist, Avory fled. Davies was taken to the hospital for 16 stitches. When the police became involved, Avory managed to avoid charges by telling them that it was "part of the show" and had just gotten a little out of hand.
Something Else By The Kinks (often shortened to Something Else) was the group’s fifth studio record. It became  the first of their three records to make The 500 list. It was a departure from their earlier releases which were more rock oriented. Something Else is considered baroque pop, a genre best described as a fusion of ornate and majestic styles from classical music, with rock and roll rhythms. Often, the harpsichord is included to create the classical effect. Legendary studio musician Nicky Hopkins was recruited to play this complex instrument on two of the tracks, Two Sisters and Love Me Till The Sun Shines. 
Hopkins (1974)
Something Else also features many of Ray Davies' introspective lyrics, including the only track from the album with which I was familiar, Waterloo Sunset. In the song, a solitary narrator is watching two lovers, Terry and Julie, passing over a bridge at sundown. The song is often studied in university arts courses and purportedly the lovers were inspired by Terence Stamp and Julie Christie who starred in the contemporaneously released film, Far From The Madding Crowd. Davies has dismissed the assertion, saying  the couple was inspired by one of his sisters and her boyfriend.
Music journalist Robert Christgau has called Waterloo Sunset "the most beautiful song in the English language" and Pete Townshend of The Who declared it a "divine masterpiece". Consequently, it was an easy pick for my 500 Spotify playlist. We'll be back with The Kinks in about eight months with album #258, The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society.