1971 was a great year for what we now call classic rock – Rod Stewart, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and The Who all released indispensable albums. Boiling down 1971 to 20 A+ tracks was no easy feat – my apologies to the Chi-Lites and the Stylistics, among others.
1. “Ain’t No Sunshine,” Bill Withers. It doesn’t sound like a Memphis record, but Booker T. Jones produced “Ain’t No Sunshine”; fellow Stax stalwarts Donald “Duck” Dunn and Al Jackson, Jr. were the rhythm section. Stephen Stills played guitar, but it’s Bill Wither’s bottomless plaintive heartache that makes this performance both timeless and unforgettable.
2. “Brown Sugar,” The Rolling Stones. Not a song about cookies, this Stones rocker has it all – one of Keef’s most identifiable riffs, the irresistible blues based dance rhythm, Ian Stewart’s boogie woogie piano touches, Bobby Keys’ wailing saxophone, and an absolutely filthy/outrageous subject matter. It tastes so good.
3. “Every Picture Tells A Story,” Rod Stewart. If the Rolling Stones singing about slave owner sex hasn’t convinced you that the early ‘70s were different cultural times, check out Rod’s international search for love and adventure that ends with him falling in love with a “slit eyed lady.” For me, this folk based rocker holds up better than the ubiquitous “Maggie May.” Give the late drummer Micky Waller some love for his excellent stick work and ambitiousness. After he left the music business, Waller became at attorney and used his legal training to win court claims for unpaid royalties.
4. “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart,” The Bee Gees. It was easy to make fun of The Bee Gees in the ‘70s – the helium enhanced vocals, the cringing vice grip squeeze pants, piles of hair that you could hide a week’s worth of vegemite in. The song teeters on the edge of self-parody, but who can who can avoid such high quality cheese.
5. “It Don’t Come Easy,” Ringo Starr. Ringo’s solo career didn’t star with a bang – he released an album of standards (Sentimental Journey) and a Nashville album (Beaucoups of Blues) in 1970 and neither produced a hit. While recording the Sentimental Journey album, George Harrison and Starr worked on “It Don’t Come Easy,” – Starr gets the writing credit for the song, but later stated that Harrison co-wrote it. Trust your ears on this one – generous spirited George not only composed the song, but also gave Starr his first Top Five solo hit.
6. “It’s Too Late,” Carole King. Talk about a career record, Carole King’s Tapestry spent over 300 weeks on the Billboard album chart. “It’s Too Late” went to #1 on the pop charts on won the 1972 Grammy for “Record of the Year.” An impending divorce has never been voiced with such matter of fact bluntness.
7. “L.A. Woman,” The Doors. The Doors are one of those bands that most people tend to love or hate. Detractors find the music ponderous and Morrison’s lyrics overwrought, while supporters of the band feel that Morrison’s edgy, dangerous persona defined the rock ‘n’ roll spirit. “L.A. Woman” encapsulates both the band’s power and pretentions with Jim Morrison sounding suitably robust, but a bit grizzled for a 27-year-old man.
8. “The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys,” Traffic. With this song, you get the complete 1970s drug experience, courtesy of Steve Winwood and Jim Capaldi, without hitting the streets to score some pot or Quaaludes. Every time I get to Chris Wood’s saxophone solo, it’s all I can do to keep myself from checking into rehab.
9. “Me and Bobby McGee,” Janis Joplin. Joplin’s version of the Kris Kristofferson/Fred Foster thumb riding/lost love standard is so definitive that it’s amazing how many artists got there before her. In 1969 and 1970, versions of this song were released by Roger Miller (a #12 country hit), Kenny Rogers, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Gordon Lightfoot (a Top 20 hit in Canada), as well as Bill Haley and His Comets (!?) and a Pharaoh-less Sam the Sham. Like Otis Redding, Joplin had her first #1 hit posthumously.
10. “Me and Paul,” Willie Nelson. Nelson had two Top Ten country hits in 1962 (“Willingly” and “Touch Me”) and had a string of minor hits after that, but never broke through in the ‘60s as a bankable artist. In the early 1970s, Nelson left Nashville for Austin, traded suits for jeans, and stopped seeing his barber. “Me and Paul,” a catalogue of questionably legal activities and poor decisions as a touring musician, was the tipping point for Nelson’s new outlaw image. Drummer Paul English never went anywhere without a gun. He was very effective in ensuring that his boss got paid at the end of the night.
11. “Motel Blues,” Loudon Wainwright III. Motels were a bit different in 1971 – it’s hard to find a Styrofoam ice bucket or grass mat walls these days. Wainwright does away with all sense of shame as a road performer seeking validation from a young fan, ultimately pleading for a life saving night of companionship. Hard to believe Loudon’s first few marriages didn’t work out.
12. “Paradise,” John Prine. You could argue that Prine’s eponymous 1971 debut is the best traditional singer/songwriter album of the 1970s. Or, you could listen to “Paradise,” “Illegal Smile,” “Hello in There,” and “Angel from Montgomery,” and let the argument make itself.
13. “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” Gil-Scott Heron. Almost a decade before we knew what hip hop was, Heron dropped a socially conscious rap bomb that is still often referenced and sampled. Heron’s unique, articulate voice should have been more prominently heard and heralded during his messy, self-absorbed life.
14. “Superstar,” The Carpenters. Penned by Leon Russell and Bonnie Bramlett, this song was released by Delaney & Bonnie in 1969 with the title “Groupie (Superstar).” Rita Coolidge did a cover as part of Joe Cocker’s “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” tour, leading to more covers by Cher and Bette Midler in 1970. Richard Carpenter reworked the lyrics to be less sexual and Karen’s richly evocative alto voice conveyed heartbreaking desperation.
15. “That’s the Way I Always Heard It Should Be,” Carly Simon. Carly’s first hit single was an odd composition, wherein the narrator views marriage as a kind of terminal suicide, then decides to tie the knot anyway. James Taylor, they are called “warning shots” for a reason.
16. “Tupelo Honey,” Van Morrison. A few adjectives that have been used to describe George Ivan Morrison – “nasty,” “vicious,” “unpleasant,” “jerk,” “cantankerous,” “paranoid,” “withdrawn,” “uncommunicative,” “reclusive,” “possibly psychotic.” And, yet, he writes music that is spellbinding in its beauty. The moral – let’s all be insufferably boorish and make the world a better place.
17. “What’s Going On,” Marvin Gaye. The title track to Gaye’s 1971 landmark album never ages – the voice and the message are timeless. The tragic irony is that Gaye’s life ended due to the senseless violence he was asking everyone to overcome.
18. “When the Levee Breaks,” Led Zeppelin. Constructive larceny – the act of engaging in theft only to deliver a better product – wasn’t fully appreciated until the hip hop era, but Zep were masters of the recycle game. On this track, the mud shark enthusiasts update a 1929 Memphis Minnie country blues number while John Bonham lays down the hammer of the Gods.
19. “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” The Who. It takes admirable skill to write rock lyrics that feign profundity, but, upon inspection, really say preciously little. Townshend perfected that art on “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” writing a mammoth rock classic about FIGHTING THE MAN, DUDE! Really, Who’s Next is such a perfect album, I wish the band would have left the studio and never performed another note of music. Imagine a world without “Squeeze Box” or “Don’t Let Go the Coat.” Feels good, doesn’t it?
20. “The Year Clayton Delaney Died,” Tom T. Hall. I could have easily put Dolly’s “Coat of Many Colors” or Pride’s “Kiss An Angel Good Mornin’’ on this list, but master storyteller Hall gets the only 1971 country slot. Clayton Delaney was a pseudonym for Olive Hill, Kentucky booze hound/blues picker Lonnie Easterly, who Tom T. admired when he was a young lad. Even though Easterly reportedly passed away at the age of 20, this remains a never ending song of love for Delaney and Lonnie.
