Listen: Mississippi / John Phillips
Mississippi

As unlikely as it gets in today’s world, Amoeba Music seems to be surviving, doing well even, despite basing a majority of their floor space to cd’s. I just pray I’m right. Last week’s Los Angeles visit meant several stops to their Sunset Blvd location. Unfocused on my bearings upon arrival, it was only when walking a block south from the hotel did I discover the store one further block west on Sunset. Miracle.

One of the location’s many highs includes the close proximity Amoeba’s 7″ department has to the front store windows, whereby you can literally browse singles and simultaneously watch the world go by along the fabulous Sunset Strip, as it’s referred to. In a car with friends, I’ll generally keep my mouth shut when it comes to spouting out landmarks along the patch between Doheny Road and the 101. Landmarks being where the various record companies and publishers housed themselves in the 60′s and 70′s. Other than me, nobody cares. But standing at the 45 rack in Amoeba while gazing left out the window, I could literally see the location of Phil Spector’s Philles offices just across the street, one block away. Yikes.

Right place, right time. A stocking clerk was busying himself away at the sorting table next to me and preparing to toss a small stack of jukebox tabs apparently found inside several of the newly acquired 7′s when I intervened.

“Take whatever you want” was the reply.

Now was this a dreadful oversight in the works or an attempt at intensely super serving one’s customers? I’m not really sure. But you only need to invite me once. I rescued the lot.

Given my geographic location on earth that very moment, what better example of the bunch than this? A whole sheet for John Phillips ‘Mississippi’ single, unscathed.

Despite a very out of place image and dreadful band name during The Mamas & The Papas’ successful patch, his songs were truly remarkable. John Phillips never lost his ability for a great one despite all the personal dramas and traumas. Just before his move to London in the early 70′s, what should have been the beginning of a successful solo career launched with ‘Mississippi’, a US #33 single. Seems the album JOHN, THE WOLF KING OF L.A., was a flop and off into a multi-millionaire’s drug jungle he went. Sounds like fun to me.

Listen: Twelve Thirty (Young Girls Are Coming To The Canyon) / The Mamas & The Papas
Twelve

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.