Boston’s debut album conceived and recorded in a basement.
I’m an avid listener of “Behind the Song” a podcast devoted to the fascinating back stories behind some of the greatest songs ever written.
I never miss an episode.
The host, Janda, is a Chicago radio personality who really knows her stuff. She also happens to have the best radio voice I’ve ever heard. Check it out to see what I mean.
The host, Janda, is a Chicago radio personality who really knows her stuff. She also happens to have the best radio voice I’ve ever heard. Check it out to see what I mean.
Anyway, a recent episode focused on the year 1976. Turns out the bicentennial was a landmark year in music as well as a special time in American history.
I was 12 years old that year. And I remember the tall ships coming to New York, flag bunting everywhere and a sense of unity and patriotism.
We were post Watergate, post Vietnam, post energy crisis and dealing with inflation and what Jimmy Carter referred to as malaise. But I don’t remember that as much as I remember the pageantry and the good feelings behind a landmark anniversary.
I also remember the music.
And the podcast brought it all into sharp relief.
Amazingly, the music released 50 years ago still resonates with me now that I am approaching my Social Security years.
What is about music that endures?
After all, I’m not into much that I liked when I was 12. Sports, for sure. Dogs, definitely. But I’m no longer reading what I read back then: Mad Magazine, the Chronicles of Narnia, Encyclopedia Brown. I’m not watching Laverne & Shirley or the Six Million Dollar Man and I’m not longing to buy a pitch back, the ultimate piece of sports equipment back in the day.
I’m also not playing Boggle or marveling at my friend’s Stretch Armstrong toy. Do you remember Stretch? He was the hit of ‘76, a latex action figure filled with corn syrup that could stretch up to four feet.
I’m also not playing Boggle or marveling at my friend’s Stretch Armstrong toy. Do you remember Stretch? He was the hit of ‘76, a latex action figure filled with corn syrup that could stretch up to four feet.
Nope, Stretch is no longer compelling.
But Boston’s debut album, Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” and Tom Petty’s first album are still on my playlists.
Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder, Hotel California by The Eagles, Frampton Comes Alive and Aerosmith’s Rocks—all released in 1976 and all still in heavy rotation. If you were there, you can’t forget those songs.
What is it about music? Why do these songs linger?
I have a theory.
Music attaches itself to our memories. We associate certain songs with eras of our life and moments in our culture.
So Boston’s “More Than A Feeling” with its soaring vocals and big guitars just fits the bicentennial feeling.
And Hotel California fits the ennui of the post Watergate era.
Back then, I remember the adults in my life lamenting the scandal in Washington. But viewed in hindsight, Watergate showed the power of accountability and the importance of a free press.
Senators from the president’s own party held him to account and ushered him out. Woodward and Bernstein, backed by a legendary editor Ben Bradlee and a brave publisher Katharine Graham wrote stories that outraged Americans and inspired a generation of journalists to follow their lead.
A dozen years later, I was one of those reporters motivated by All The President’s Men.
Today, we have a scandal every day. We forget last week’s outrages and we never hold a member of our team accountable. We just plow through. We just double down.
There are no shared facts, one side’s outrage is celebrated if it manages to annoy our enemies.
As for the press, we no longer trust the Fourth Estate. A scenario I find sad, dangerous and unsettling.
But the music endures. It rises above the rancor and division.
We can agree on Bob Seger’s brand of Midwest genius. How he captures the excitement and drama of young love.
Night Moves—trying to lose those awkward teenage blues. That’s specific and universal. We all had those blues. All of us remember them.
1976 was also the year of “American Girl”. The opening lines just nail it.
“Well, she was an American girl
Raised on promises
She couldn’t help thinkin’ that there
Was a little more to life
Somewhere else
After all it was a great big world
With lots of places to run to”
Yes!
Raised on promises
She couldn’t help thinkin’ that there
Was a little more to life
Somewhere else
After all it was a great big world
With lots of places to run to”
Yes!
Universal themes. The smallest lens. That’s the power of music. The words, the riffs, they are timeless and enduring.
Thank goodness.
I would say that Janda has one of the nicest voice. Also Donnie Simpson also has one of the nicest radio voice.
I’ll check out Donnie. Thanks!
I always thought that Boston wrote “More Than A Feeling” all about me, since my name features in the lyrics (and is spelled the same way – very rare!). Keep writing Jeff, you evoke pangs of nostalgia for the innocent creatures we once were! Also, enjoy the 66 degree weather up there; the heat is waiting for you to return! Ha!
I’m pretty sure that song is written about you!