It’s not all fun and games here at Rock NYC Live and Recorded Corporate World Headquarters. Sure, we have our moments. Taking turns sexting Frank Ocean brightens the mood (the man has no shame) and we all enjoy it when Beyonce picks up her latest list of potential baby names (“Magenta Chrysanthemum” and “Boota Zilla” are still on the market). However, make no mistake – Iman Lababedi runs a tight ship, my friend. If you arrive at 7:01, expect to hear about it. If a chocolate doughnut nudges against a bear claw, the entire box will be violently hurled out the window, often causing me to sob uncontrollably. Don’t joke about The Selecter being the fifth best (first generation) two tone band unless your mouth feels encumbered by too many teeth.
We have a disciplined morning routine – push-ups, sit-ups, wind sprints, and a spirited discussion of our favorite Mac Davis album covers. It’s not easy discussing that unibrow and perm combo every morning, but it makes staff assignments a welcome transition. Recently, between barks of “Suck in that gut, mister!” and “Don’t sweat on my Aimee Mann coaster set!,” I was given the dreaded 1960s overview assignment. This is particularly difficult on me for two reasons. One, I was toasted out of my skull on bad acid for the entire decade and, two, I was only four years old when 1970 rolled around.
Of course, every year has classic material, absolute garbage, and various degrees of olfactory sensations in between. Based on an extremely scientific and completely subjective process, here’s my quick review of each year.
1960. The first flower of rock ‘n’ roll had bloomed and died by 1960, so our pop charts were left with a tame Elvis and the tasteful harmonies of the Everly Brothers. Motown was open for business, which would pay great dividends later in the decade. Overall, 1960 had quality skill players but lacked depth. Grade = C.
1961. The Shirelles and The Marvelettes delivered the glorious girl group goodies and Roy Orbison wetted his cheeks. Del Shannon, Dion, and Etta James kept quality on the pop charts. Grade = C+
1962. The Four Seasons broke wine glasses throughout the country, singing in high pitched voices that would later make the Bee Gees sound like Muddy Waters. Patsy Cline and George Jones did some of the finest work to ever escape Nashville, but this was a thin year. Grade = C-
1963. Something in the air was changing, daddy-o. The Fab Four were scaling the British charts, The Beach Boys were surfing across the airways, and Bob Dylan was blowin’ in the wind. Also, Phil Spector hadn’t wigged out yet. Grade = B
1964. The British are coming! The British are coming! Wow, look at those teeth. This was the watershed year. The Kinks, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Herman’s Hermits, Manfred Mann, the Searchers, and Them all found fame and glory in the land of the free and home of the brave. Sprinkle in some Motown, The Righteous Brothers, Burt Bacharach for taste, texture, and chewy goodness. Grade = A.
1965. Dylan was at his peak in ’65 and the world began to move from the singles format to the album as the preferred listening experience. Another year chocked full of glorious two and a half minute long outbursts of brilliance. Grade = A.
1966. “Blonde on Blonde.” “Revolver.” “Pet Sounds.” The Temptations. The Monkees. Otis Redding. This is getting predictable. Grade = A.
1967. Take all the legendary acts from the previous few years and toss Aretha Franklin and Jimi Hendrix into the mix. Might be the best year ever. Seriously. Grade = A+.
1968. The good times couldn’t last forever. Hippies and self-indulgence took a toll at this point. If you want to go back in time and maim the record label executives that were signing jam bands, that’s not a dishonorable calling. Grade = B.
1969. We got one last great gasp, courtesy of CCR, the not dissimilar Flying Burrito Brothers, and the completely dissimilar MC5, among others. It’s hard to summarize the 1960s in a simple sentence, but it must have really been a tough time for barbers. Grade = A.