For the sake of clarity and in an effort to triage dissenters, let me first say I know these bands aren’t necessarily all “awful.” I just don’t really care for most of their music or perhaps just their vibe. They may also actually be indefensibly awful. Who knows. But, don’t argue with that. If you’re going to argue with anything in this here Stylus Counsel, take issue with what I think is an actually great song (because there are a few choices here that are debatable).
Let me also say, if it helps, that — with one exception — these are bands or artists whose records I do not own because I have deemed their awful-to-not ratio to be far too high. This is basically what I’m talking about. Because, if push came to shove, I could probably find a handful of great songs by these artists. I’ve done the work, too. I’m here to tell you there are far more awful bands with no good songs than there are bad bands with a few. Hello Nickelback, Art Garfunkel and Moist. And to an even greater extent, bands I hate, which are probably good, but I just can’t stand them. Hello Cranberries, Gentle Giant and Phish.
But I digress. Great songs by shit bands… let us begin.
Shout At The Devil | Mötley Crüe
Here’s one of those bands right off the top who probably have a bunch of songs I wouldn’t turn off. There are even at least two more on this very album. But the calibre of greatness with this banger is so beyond the general shittiness of this band that I have to include it. The verses are 1,000 times better than the chorus. I’ve always loved this song, even though its stupid, they’re ridiculous and it’s all trash.
The Man That Knew Too Much | Silverchair
These guys were just kids when they had a hit with Tomorrow. They looked 12 when I saw them on SNL. It’s not possible to be more Pearl Jam-sounding than Silverchair at that time, which is astounding because the Aussie kids were 15-years-old when they recorded their debut. All five of their studio albums hit No. 1 in Australia, and they put out one every two years before waiting five years before their final album, Young Modern (2007). This is the one I like, especially this track which is closer to Spoon than it is to Pearl Jam. Thank fuck.
Crazy Horses | The Osmonds
I describe this to people as The Osmonds making a genuine effort to record their own Immigrant Song. The title track from just the singing group’s fourth album is proof that something special was indeed in the air in 1972. A shift to a harder rock sound actually first appeared on the group’s previous album, Phase III, released earlier that year. But this album nails it. If you find someone of a particular age, who hasn’t heard this, they’re in for a treat.
Daddy Rollin’ (In Your Arms) | Dion
There’s no other song in Dion‘s catalog that comes close to this track, which was the flipside of Dimucci’s 1968 hit Abraham, Martin and John. Daddy Rollin’ was never on an album, and not only should it have been, but he should have done way more stuff like this.
You Goin’ Miss Your Candyman | Terry Callier
I find it shocking that Terry Callier has a song I love SO SO much, and there’s little else like it that I can readily find in his catalog. In fact, a lot of it is schlock. There’s bonafide soft rock, a few marginal funky numbers, some decent solo folk stuff, jazz, fusion, soul, and loads and loads of cameos and special appearances. But only a handful of songs like this. And I’m not the only one who loves it. Callier has at least four versions which feature prominently on his Spotify. The most popular of which (his most popular song on Spotify) is the funkified 1972 re-recording of this far superior 1968 non-album single. You’ll find it on the 2018 compilation The Cadet/Chess Singles… Plus! There’s a track on the album called Blues, which is basically another version of the song. He also includes it on at least one live album. So, why didn’t he do more of this?
Knife-Edge | Emerson Lake & Palmer
For years I’ve tried to find something to embrace with this band. But, holy gawd — are they ever annoying. Prog rock at its sickening worst. I’ll admit to being quite taken with Lucky Man when I first heard it as a kid. But I find it to be pretentious and lame now. You’ll find this comparatively efficient banger on the same 1970 debut album. But, I tempted to change my mind when I read its official description: “Based on the first movement of Leoš Janáček‘s orchestral piece Sinfonietta (1926), with an instrumental middle section that includes an extended quotation from the Allemande of Johann Sebastian Bach’s first French Suite No. 1 in D minor.” Ugh. I wish Carl Palmer had never left Atomic Rooster.
The Windmills of Your Mind | Mel Tormé
There’s no question Mel had a set of pipes, but if you examine the cover of his 1969 album A Time For Us, it seems quite clear that the little guy was quite the player. Tormé was a renaissance man — he sang, played drums and piano, did arrangements, did radio and voice work and even acted. He co-wrote The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire) and he had the best nickname of all-time: The Velvet Fog. But, as the handle suggests, most of his stuff was pretty loungey. Hokey, even. But, this gem from A Time For Us is certainly an exception. It’s a cover of the Oscar-winning song of the previous year, featured in the original version of The Thomas Crown Affair. It’s haunting, cool and totally unique.
Let Me Ride | Ginger Baker’s Air Force
I’d probably love those two Ginger Baker Air Force albums more if I had seen him/them live. They’re great. He’s great. The band he put together is unbelievable — Denny Laine, Ric Grech, Graham Bond, Steve Winwood… but something is just a bit too flakka flakka flakka. But not this track, which opens Air Force 2. Just a brilliant cover of this early Staple Singers gospel song from 1957. Air drumming monster.
As Long As I Have You | Garnet Mimms
I can’t seem to get enough of this song, but try as I might, I can’t seem to find anything else in Mimms’ catalogue that matches it. Led Zeppelin loved it as well, I recently discovered — often covering it live. Mimms lost his passion for the biz after his dad died, and basically quit in 1978 and became born-again. This 1964 single is pure magic and has a great lick played alternatively by the guitarist and the horns.
Wattershed | Foo Fighters
There’s no good reason for why I don’t love Foo Fighters. Their music is perfectly acceptable, and Dave Grohl and co. go about it in an honest and genuine way. It’s just a bit glossy and superficial, I guess. But this one has always floored me. It’s the dead-last track on their self-titled debut album.
Spin The Black Circle | Pearl Jam
I don’t like Pearl Jam. It has always felt to me like they brought about the collapse of grunge and ushered in the era of Big Shiny Tunes, Alanis Morisette et al. I’ll give them this, though — Spin The Black Circle (1994) is kickass. And you know what sucks? It’s not in their top 10 on Spotify. Their Top 4 are all from their 1991 debut album, and seven of their top-10 songs are ballads.
Life In A Northern Town | The Dream Academy
One-hit wonder territory. This song is transportive and magical. It takes me right back to Grade 6. It’s a masterpiece, but the band never even came close to writing anything half as good.
(The System of) Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether | Alan Parsons Project
The Alan Parsons Project are maddening. Great-sounding albums with beautiful artwork and some great ideas. They have about six songs that I quite like, but none as much as this one from their debut concept album about Edgar Allan Poe. Incidentally, you should definitely search out the cover of Eye In The Sky by Moon Socket, which is an extracurricular side-project of Chris Thompson of Eric’s Trip.
What Did I Do! | Yoko Ono
I love Yoko, and I’m glad she did all the amazing, groundbreaking things she did, but mostly — I can’t listen to her music. It’s mostly awful. Like, beyond awful. There’s the early experimental stuff with the screeching and hollering. The boogie-backed political stuff. The more contemporary, but indefensibly boring stuff, and then her wildly successful club music. I’ve even covered one of her songs, We’re All Water, from her and John Lennon’s 1972 album, Some Time In New York City. But amongst her legit solo material, this is one of the only songs I’d actually put on a playlist as anything but a joke.
Stranglehold | Ted Nugent
Nugent has unforgivable views, but back in the day he made some very fun rock ’n’ roll and influenced people like Henry Rollins. This opener from his 1975 debut is awesome. Just don’t tell any of your friends who it is.
Paper Thin Walls | Modest Mouse
Modest Mouse are annoying. I find their hipster-magnet music to be curiously unwelcoming and difficult to wade through. For me, they never made anything that connected with me like this from their third studio album, The Moon & Antarctica (2000). I think I read about them in Mojo magazine and followed up. That’s when I found the also-great Heart Cooks Brain from their second album, 1997’s The Lonesome Crowded West. When their big hit Float On came out in 2004, I was out.
Only In Your Heart | America
America are insipid. They have some gawdawful songs — Tin Man, Horse With No Name and the unparalleled shit sandwich that is Muskrat Love. But I’ve always liked this one, which I believe was the closing track on my brother’s copy of their greatest hits, History. The verse melody is fantastic, but the chorus is whiny and lame. What saves the day is the fade-back-in extro guitar solo at the end. Epic ’70s. This needs to be on an 8-track, jammed into the dash of a Mercury Marquis. Close the ashtrays and crank all the windows down.
Feel Older Now | Flo & Eddie
Best known as the co-lead vocalists of The Turtles, this pair of quippy dickheads had great voices and a slew of amazing friends — Frank Zappa, Marc Bolan, Alice Cooper… but, lord help us, Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman were the musical equivalent of a wet willie. At least for the most part. They did have their moments, which were even fewer after Zappa dissolved The Mothers Of Invention in the early ’70s. This one, though, from their 1972 debut, The Phlorescent Leech and Eddie, is pretty damn great.
Spirit In The Sky | Norman Greenbaum
In a similar category as The Dream Academy, Greenbaum never matched his one big hit — the juxtapositional blend of fuzz guitar and Jesus that is the classic Spirit In The Sky. I recently scored the 1969 studio album of the same name for $3 and sold it because there was nothing else decent to be found. The poster boy for one-hit wonders, Greenbaum kicked around for three years trying to come up with another hit. Without success, he quit to biz and became a sous-chef and then a dairy farmer, re-emerging in the ’80s as a manager, basically living off royalties from his hit song that took 15 minutes to write.
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Area Resident is an Ottawa-based journalist, recording artist, music collector and re-seller. Hear (and buy) his music on Bandcamp, email him HERE, follow him on Instagram and check him out on Discogs.
