1974 Archives – How Good It Is

OK, I know it’s not midweek, as I’d promised. But I am back after an unscheduled hiatus, and with any luck I’ll be posting more regularly. Patrons, I’ll be updating you regularly in the Newsletter (which I swear won’t be so much about me, but you’re on the journey too and I do appreciate your support). “I Can Help” is one of those songs that managed to come together very quickly for Billy Swan, and it turned into his biggest hit as a songwriter, and his only hit as a performer. One of the things I like about it is the way that it feels like a generic offer of assistance, not unlike Bill Withers’ “Lean On Me,” and yet at the same time there’s a little undercurrent of a guy who’s desperate to get out of the Friend Zone (“If your child needs a daddy, I can help.”—really?). But on the casual listen you don’t really care, because of the way that Farfisa organ just carries you along, like you’re in a skating rink and just along for the ride. One of the cool things about Billy Swan, though, is that he really wasn’t cut out to be a rock star. He greatly preferred being the sideman. And as soon as all the excitement over “I Can Help” died down, he went beck to playing in Kris Kristofferson’s tour band. Part of that, he thinks, is because he was never comfortable having to talk in between the songs. If all he had to do was sing, he’d probably be okay. Click here for a transcript of this episode. Click here to become a Patron of the show.

Original cover photo by  awatif abdulaziz  on  Scopio Olivia Newton-John was already a pretty big star by the time 1974 rolled around, but she still hadn’t scored a Number One hit. Then along came Peter Allen, who was coincidentally also from Australia. Allen was putting together an album of his own, and he enlisted Jeff Barry to help him with the songwriting. Together they put together “I Honestly Love You” and cut a demo. The intent of the demo was to have something to work from when they recorded it for the album. Instead the demo wound up in the hands of Olivia Newton-John’s producer, who played it for the singer. And the rest, as they say, is history. Except, not quite. There were a couple of other things that needed to happen. But if I told you here, why would you bother listening to the episode? I ask you! Because this episode is running a few days late, you’re getting a treat: Episode 146, which will be an interview with John Hall, founder of the band Orleans, will drop either Monday or Tuesday, depending on how quickly I finish my post-production. Hall was a terrific interview and I hope to do a follow-up with him in the near future. Click here for a transcript of this episode. Click here to become a Patron of the show.

It’s whiny. It’s treacly. It’s mushy. It’s kind of a bad song. I’m not going to talk you out of any of those things. This isn’t one of those shows where I try to convince you—and perhaps myself—that an objectively bad song is somehow good. (And if you don’t know what songs those are, that means I’m doing a pretty good job.) But the fact is, “Seasons in the Sun” absolutely dominated nearly the first half of 1974, and like Kurt Cobain, it was one of the first records I bought with my own money. I promise I’m not considering any self-injurious behavior today. Not today. And like Norman Greenbaum before him with “Spirit in the Sky”, Terry Jacks was able to use the money he made from his song to do pretty much whatever he wanted for the rest of his life. Maybe we should all write a song with the title “[thing] in the [another thing]”, hm? Could that be the secret to financial security? Incidentally, I used different software to record this episode. Usually I use Audacity, but I heard a lot of good stuff about a program called Hindenburg, and while there’s a bit of a learning curve involved, it’s pretty good and may actually change my workflow once I get better used to it. If it sounds better or worse, I’d be curious to hear from you about it. Click here for a transcript of this episode. Click here to become a Patron of the show.