Listen: Twelve Thirty (Young Girls Are Coming To The Canyon) / The Mamas & The Papas
Never in my life did I expect to say I fell in love with Mama Cass, but the day has come. Yes, reading DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME: THE LIFE OF CASS ELLIOT by Eddi Fiegel allowed me to realize how much was missed during my empty life. Cass was clearly a great soul and this is a great book.
In their time, The Mamas & The Papas were everywhere, and despite the good songs, this Anglophile blotted the vision of them completely out of view. I mean, they looked pretty rough in comparison to The Small Faces, let’s say. And their name. Dreadful.
Having trolled through the world wide web as a result of my new found affection for Mama Cass, I did notice someone, somewhere, claiming they were America’s answer to The Beatles. No way. They deserve much more credit.
Combing back through their singles, anyone would need to admit, they were flawless. One classic after the other. A few still get heard today.
Not so with ‘Twelve Thirty’. Not in my world that is, but I never listen to terrestrial radio. I do have the balls to criticize it nonetheless, and am happy to take the risk of proclaiming ‘Twelve Thirty’ gets no play on the oldies format, bar Sirius. My brother-in-law Mitch argued differently just now, but I’m not buying it.
Written of course by John Phillips, it’s easy in hindsight to understand why the royalty of their 60′s and 70′s peers watched in awe of their output. The hooks, melodies and string arrangements that intertwine this, and all of his songs, remain unchallenged. Just when you think you know the track like you know your own being, another new, how the fuck did I not hear that before, twist slams you.
Possibly my favorite song at this very moment in time.