Category: artists

Animation + Rock = Fun: The Danny Hutton Interview

Animation + Rock = Fun: The Danny Hutton Interview

 

by Chris Davidson

Pal to big Brian Wilson, L.A. scenester of long-standing (and, oh yeah, one-third of Three Dog Night!), Danny Hutton will live forever in the collective bubblegum consciousness for one additional and amazing reason: he worked for the grandpappy of cartoon rock labels—Hanna Barbera Records.  For a year beginning in 1965, Hutton acted as the label’s resident hip youngster and recorded three of the company’s best forays into the pure pop 45 market.  He also lent vocals and studio know-how to the maddest cartoon rock album of all—Monster Shindig, a bizarre horror-rock conglomeration credited to “Super-Snooper and Blabber Mouse, the Gruesomes of the Flintstones, Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy, and the Wolf Man.”  (What, no Morocco Mole?)

HBR hit with the Five Americans’ “I See the Light” during Hutton’s tenure with the label and went on to release a hefty amount of garage, light psych and pop over the next couple of years, including “Blue Theme” by the Hogs (AKA the Chocolate Watchband).  While the majority of singles appear to have been one-off national distribution deals with bands experiencing regional chart noise, HBR long-players took the animated TV characters as a starting point and crafted dozens of mind-splitting vinyl adventures and hot session-man rock-and-roll.

Danny Hutton arrived at the start of HBR’s pop barnstorming.

Chris Davidson: How’d you get started with Hanna Barbera Records?  Was that your first experience with a record label?
 
Danny Hutton: I was working in the warehouse for Disney/Buena Vista Records.  I was basically a grunt during the day at work, but at night I hung around in the L.A. musician spots, like IHOP across from Hollywood High and Liberty Records, where I used to see Sonny & Cher, Jan & Dean, and those people.  I had put out a couple of records already.  My first was as the Chartermen on Invicta Records.  It was called “Winken, Blinken and Nod.”  This was done through Kim Fowley, who I was introduced to by Pat and Lolly Vegas.  Kim actually lived up in my attic for awhile.  I also had a single out on ALMO Records called “Home in Pasadena.”  That was released as Daring Dan Hutton.  Then I cut “Farmer’s Daughter” on Mercury as Basil Swift and the Seagrams.  One day, a guy named Larry Goldberg contacted me.  He was trying to get something happening at HBR.  He was sort of an A&R guy, a hustler, not a musician.  But he brought me into the deal as proof of his street credentials.  I was a young musician, so HBR gave me a half-hour tryout.  In that time, I wrote two songs, so they gave me a job!

CD: Did you cut the songs you wrote for the audition?

DH: Yes.  The first song was called “Nothing at All.”  I did all the vocal and instrumental parts on the record, and it was released as the Bats [HBR 445].  It was all me!  The other song was “Big Bright Eyes,” which we recorded as the B-side.  We did the whole session at Western Studios in six hours.  I wrote “Big Bright Eyes” in the studio in ten minutes.

CD: That was one of the best singles on HBR.  “Big Bright Eyes” was later a local hit for you in L.A.

DH: The version that later came out [HBR 453] under my name was the same version as the Bats, but with a different backing track.  We took the original, which was more acoustic and made it more pop.

CD: What about “Roses and Rainbows,” your other L.A. hit before “Big Bright Eyes?”  Wasn’t that the song they used for your appearance on The Flintstones?

DH: “Roses and Rainbows” was a big hit in town.  I think it was helped along when Billboard featured it on a flexi disk in one of their issues.  I really had no intention of performing live at the time.  I considered myself a studio guy.  But the label put the single out under my name [HBR447], set me up with a manager and started promoting me as a solo act.  One day they asked if I wanted to be in The Flintstones, and right after that they showed me the finished product.  I didn’t do anything.  They just used the released version of “Roses and Rainbows” in the show.  Funny story about The Flintstones.  When I met my wife, Laurie, she told me she’d seen the episode I was in and fell in love with me on TV.  She fell in love with me from the cartoon!

CD: Now, that’s a woman!  Can you tell me about the flip to “Roses and Rainbows?”

DH: “Monster Shindig” was on the back.

CD: It’s a wild song and also the title track of a great HBR album [HLP2020].  Did you do the other songs on that record—“Super Snooper” and “The Monster Jerk?”

DH: That was me.  I don’t remember the session too much, but I know I worked on that record.  I contributed a lot to the albums being made at the time.

CD: What else do you recall about your time with the label?  Did you run into any of the other acts?

DH: I was there from the very beginning, when they were just moving in the furniture.  It was about a year all together.  I always felt like it was more of an experiment than anything else, a cartoon company trying out the record business.  The Guilloteens were being worked in L.A. [three singles on the label], but I never met the Five Americans.  They never had a presence in L.A.  It was a great time while it lasted, though, and definitely helped me get a leg up in the business.

 

Selected Discography of Hanna Barbera Records
 

SINGLE         GROUP                     TITLE

HBR 445         The Bats                     Nothing At All / Big Bright Eyes

HBR 446         The Guilloteens            I Don’t Believe (Call On Me) / Hey You

HBR 447         Danny Hutton   Roses and Rainbows / Monster Shindig

HBR 451         The Guilloteens            For My Own / Don’t Let The Rain Get You Down

HBR 453         Danny Hutton   Big Bright Eyes/ Monster Shindig Part 2

HBR 454         Five Americans            I See the Light / The Outcast

HBR 462         Art Grayson                 Be Ever Mine / When I Get Home

HBR 468         Five Americans            EVOL Not Love / Don’t Blame Me

HBR 472         Dale & Grace               I’d Rather Be Free / Let Them Talk

HBR 473         Charles Christy            In The Arms Of A Girl

HBR 476         Scat Man Crothers        Golly Zonk! (It’s Scat Man) / What’s A Nice Girl Like You Doing In A Place Like This?"

HBR 477         The Dimensions (Five) She’s Boss / Penny

HBR 482         The Tidal Waves          Farmer John / She Left Me Alone

HBR 483         Five Americans            Good Times / The Losing Game

HBR 485         Riot Squad                  I Take It We’re Through

HBR 486         The Guilloteens            I Sit And Cry / Crying All Over My Time

HBR 488         Ron Gray                    Hold Back The Sunrise

HBR 489         Ronnie & Robyn          Cradle Of Love / Dreamin’

HBR 492         13th Floor Elevators     You’re Gonna Miss Me / Tried To Hide

HBR 494         Dynatones                   The Fife Piper / I Always Will

HBR 495         Scotty McKay   Waikiki Beach / I’m Gonna Love You

HBR 500         Positively Thirteen O’Clock     

Psychotic Reaction / 13 O’ Clock Theme

HBR 501         The Tidal Waves          Big Boy Pete / I Don’t Need Love

HBR 506         Dewayne & the Beldettas Hurtin’

HBR 507         W.C. Fields Memorial Electric String Band

Hippy Elevator Operator /Don’t Lose The Girl

HBR 508         The New Breed            Want Ad Reader / One More For The Good Guys

HBR 509         The Four Gents            Soul Sister / I’ve Been Trying

HBR 511         The Hogs                    Blue Theme / Loose Lip Sync Ship

HBR 513         Sunny Lane                 Tell It Like It Was / Trollin’

HBR 514         The Unrelated Segments

Story Of My Life / It’s Unfair

HBR 515         The Tidal Waves          Action (Speaks Louder Than Words) / Hot Stuff

HBR 516         The Timestoppers         I Need Love / Fickle Frog

HBR ? The Countdowns          Hold Back The Sunrise / The Shake

 

ALBUM          GROUP                                           TITLE

 

HLP 2020        Super-Snooper & Blabber                    Mouse Monster Shindig

HLP 2021        Flintstones                                        Goldilocks

HLP 2023        Yogi Bear & Boo Boo             Red Riding Hood & Jack and the Beanstalk

HLP 2024        Magilla Gorilla                                 Alice in Wonderland

HLP 2025        Pixie & Dixie                                    Cinderella

HLP 2026        Snagglepuss                                      Tells The Story Of The Wizard Of Oz

HLP 2027        Wilma Flintstone                               Tells The Story Of Bambi

HLP 2028        Doggie Daddy                         Pinocchio

HLP 2029        Touche Turtle & Dum Dum                 The Reluctant Dragon

HLP 2030        Johnny Quest                                     20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

HLP 2031        Top Cat                                            Robin Hood

HLP 2037        Jetsons                                             First Family on the Moon

HLP 2041        Atom Ant                                        Muscle Magic

HLP 2043        Squiddly Diddly                                Surfin’ Surfari

HLP 8503        Five Americans                                  I See The Light

HLP 8504        Renaissance Society                            Baroque ‘N Stones

HLP?              Gene Kelly                                        Jack and the Beanstalk TV Soundtrack

HLP ?             Hillbilly Bears                        Hillbilly Shindig

HLP ?             Winsome Witch                                 It’s Magic

HLP ?             Flintstones & Jose Jiminez                  The Time Machine

HLP ?             Yogi Bear                                         Mad Mad Dr No No

HLP ?             The Flintstones                                 S.A.S.F.A.T.P.O.G.O.B.S.O.A.L.T.

HLP ?             Precious Pupp                         Hot Rod Granny

HLP ?             Secret Squirrel & Morocco Mole           Super Spy

HLP ?             Fred & Barney                        Mary Poppins

HLP ?             Super-Snooper & Blabber Mouse          James Bomb

HLP ?             Jetsons                                             First Family on the Moon

HLP ?             Sinbad Jr.                                         Treasure Island

HLP ?             Pebbles & Bamm Bamm                     Good Ship Lollipop

1910 Fruitgum Co. – The Best of CD (Repertoire)

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Not to be confused with the similarly-titled BMG collection for which I wrote the notes in 2001 (see below). If you’re seeking the most of this splendid bubblegum band you’ll need to pick up both discs, as there are six songs on the earlier release not on this mainly singles selection, among them the essential "1910 Cotton Candy Castle." But if only one Fruitgum comp is in your future, it’d be hard to compete with this 28-track behemoth. I wish BMG had been as ambitious with their own vault artists as Germany’s Repertoire label! You’d have to dig through a lot of scuffy vinyl to assemble a comparable analog collection spanning the short, delicious career of this most infantile of semi-imaginary Buddah combos. Kicking off with the schoolyard earworm hits (including "Simon Says," "Indian Giver" and "1-2-3 Red Light"), the disc also spotlights the band (or its studio doppelgangers) in its jazzy, psychedelic and garagey manifestations. The b-sides are highlights (and a rare chance to enjoy band-penned compositions), like the growling bad girl raver "No Good Annie," and the Chinese psych-out "Reflections from the Looking Glass." Equally great are the retarded (in a good way) "Sticky Sticky" and the Link-Wray-in-orbit stylings of "Baby Bret." The comp closes with several scarce Italian-language tracks, from the Fruitgums’ late, barely-noticed Continental phase, including the exquisitely spooky "C’e Qualcosa Che Non Picardo Piu." The booklet includes notes from John Tracy and a selection of colorful 45 sleeves, sheet music covers and oddities.

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 Read Kim Cooper’s notes from The Best of the 1910 Fruitgum Company. 

Sunshine Pop by Chris Davidson

Sunshine Pop
by Chris Davidson

What can sunshine pop hope to prove in this evil, angry world?  Sunshine pop—the effervescent song of rampant happiness.  A thousand hummingbirds grooving to newly discovered nectar.  The virginal essence of pop, wispy and white and skimmed off a cool vanilla milkshake to be infused with gleeful melody.  The together timbre of the Association, the pleasing gum-snap of the Yellow Balloon, or—most perfectly—the dazzling choral layercake of the Cowsills.  What chance do these sun-drenched sounds have with us moderns?

Those with the faintest longing for purity know well the uplifting—nay the inspiring—power of this music.  At its most blinding it matches bubblegum’s oomph note for note.  But not for sunshine pop the sexual subtext or nasal bleating: where bubblegum says, “I got love in my tummy,” s-pop exclaims:  “I love the flower girl.”   A fine line, to be sure.  Over here one type of joyful noise, over there another.  But darn it if sunshine pop isn’t its own cheerful potpourri of twirling, exuberant arrangements and over-the-bra lovey-doveyness.  Baroque pop, you ask?  Not really, although the harpsichord features prominently at times, and an Old World flavor definitely pervades.  Folk rock, then?  Not quite, despite an acoustic drop cloth on which everything eventually lands.  The balance is precarious.  The peel of a harmonica or improper throaty vocal will snatch an otherwise frisky sunshine tune from your grasp and deposit it back into the standard 1960s pop camp.

Sunshine pop had a fling with the best-seller crowd in the mid-’60s—or, more correctly, light harmony pop did, for its lush harmonies and wistful themes approached but did not capture the oblique and melancholy X Factor of sunshine pop.  Radio staples like “Younger Girl” and “Love (Can Make You Happy)” came close.  Reams of sublime examples ducked beneath the charts.  Bubbling under, the likes of the Sunshine Company’s “I Just Want To Be Your Friend” the well documented “The Grooviest Girl In The World” and “California My Way” by the Committee turned us gay with AM delight.

Some b-gum stars straddled both camps—the Archies’ “Sugar and Spice” is sun-baked like Dennis Wilson’s split ends.  But sunshine pop is best discovered in the margins of bubblegum where the acknowledged luminaries took a backseat to a simplified (and remarkably moving) emotional milieu, an endless series of first dates and the blinding optimism of youth.  Hit and flop alike, speak softly, and behold sunshine pop’s gentle-hearted best and brightest:

The Beach Boys
Traced directly to these rapturous lads, the roots of sunshine pop reside not so much with the overplayed hits as with certain pre-Pet Sounds album cuts.  The trick is the rich B. Wilson production, which piles high the harmonies—a central facet and key differentiator between straight surf vocal disks and the true sunny stuff.  Sunshine pop is, after all, less about summer rock-and-roll and more about the evocation of summer shadiness, a delicate point.  A thousand harmony-laden masterpieces owe patent infringement damages to “In the Parking Lot” and especially “Let Him Run Wild.”

The Association
Too freshman-year earnest after their first hits to qualify as mainstays of the movement, the Association delivered a superb first album—And Then Along Comes The Association—overseen by producer Curt Boettcher and featuring tight bursts of harmony pop shrapnel.  Forgive the facial hair for their still-thrilling “Along Comes Mary.”

The Cowsills
Optimism rock—family division.  The vociferous Cowsill brood galvanized Rhode Island with the most gleaming pipes of all, a team of precision instruments tightly wound like a teenage Magnificent Seven.  After a few flop singles, the tribe exploded with towering, sun-basted material: “The Rain, The Park And Other Things” “Gray, Sunny Day” “We Can Fly” and, most euphoric of all, “All My Days” part of a Cowsills EP sponsored by the American Dairy Association (fully one-sixth of tiny R.I.’s milk supply is suspected to have been consumed by a Cowsill).

The Bee Gees
Happy in spurts amidst ever-present (but very welcome) pensiveness, the Bee Gees mastered the pop form while still teens.  The early Australian recordings point skyward while simultaneously staring down and come extremely close to sunshine pop without fully capitulating.  Still, brothers in lock-step harmony singing about butterflies says include them with an asterisk.  Said “Butterfly” is a good place to begin.  “Cherry Red” and “Spicks and Specks” receive extra points for overcoming the Euro-sunshine curse, as relatively few overseas pals convincingly linked up with this sound (is it even possible to be truly happy outside of the U.S.?).  Yes, the Hollies came a breadth away with “Everything Is Sunshine.”

Yellow Balloon
Gary Zekley, SoCal insider and one of many budding maestros orbiting the Wilson camp mid-decade, found chart fame producing the Clique’s “Sugar On Sunday” and writing hits for the Grass Roots.  Of his earlier work, this delicious ‘67 album typifies the airy and upbeat mini-Spector density found on the most atmospheric s-pop.  The Yellow B.’s self-titled theme song was also cut by a Jan-less Jan and Dean on the lost, but since rediscovered, Save For A Rainy Day LP.  No better full-length specimens of sunshine pop exist.

The Ballroom / Sagittarius / Millennium
Surfacing soon after his association with the “Along Comes Mary” crew, Curt Boettcher launched a harmony steamship with a trio of worthy vessels.  In quick succession, the Ballroom gave way to the Gary Usher-led Sagittarius which sired the stud-filled Millennium.  The constant?  Boettcher’s ability to wrest symphonic miracles on cut after cut of California vapor-pop.

The Vision
“Small Town Commotion” b/w “Keepin’ Your Eyes On The Sun” (UNI).  Top side, a complex weaving tale of a fiery municipal disaster.  The flip provides a luscious Gary Zekley artifact (produced under the nom du rock Yodar Critch), a perfectly realized distillation of July using girl backup, harps and a driving beat.  Zeke’s command: walk with me awhile and smile.

Wind
“Make Believe” b/w “Groovin’ With Mr. Bloe” (Life).  Uplifting melodious bubblegum masquerading as a 4 Seasons-like beat ballad.  Joey Levine involvement.  Slice off the harmful instrumental flip side, and a sun is born.

The Pleasure Fair
“Morning Glory Days” b/w “Fade In Fade Out” (UNI).  Add one more entry to David Gates’ long cool-guy resume.  Gee-whiz harmony with light orchestral fanfare, like a very white Fifth Dimension (perhaps the Fourth Dimension in disguise).

Hyle King Movement
“Flower Smile” b/w “Forever ‘N Ever” (Liberty).  Atmospheric swirl akin to Sergio Mendes harmonizing in a hot-house garden—plus decidedly hippie sentiments told in a deliciously un-hippie manner.

Press Release: Andy Kim two-fer reissues due in July

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This press release just in:

ANDY KIM, CO-WRITER OF “SUGAR SUGAR,” IS SWEET ON COLLECTORS’ CHOICE MUSIC
 
Four albums by last of the Brill Building artists (How’d We Ever Get This Way/Rainbow Ride and Baby I Love You/Andy Kim) to be reissued on two CDs on July 18
LOS ANGELES, Calif. — Andy Kim has sold millions of records, but most people are under the impression he sold mere hundreds of thousands. The reason is simple. Although Kim had many hits under his own name (“How’d We Ever Get This Way,” “Baby I Love You,” “Rock Me Gently” and “So Good Together,” to name a few), he co-wrote (with Jeff Barry) the Archies’ mega-hit “Sugar Sugar,” which sold 6 million 45 RPM units. Ron Dante provided the magic voice. Yet the fans never saw the scaffolding behind the scenes. The Archies, after all, consisted of Archie, Jughead, Reggie, Betty and Veronica, right?
 
Collectors’ Choice Music on July 18 will re-release four Andy Kim LPs via two loaded CDs: How’d We Ever Get This Way mates with Rainbow Ride to document Kim’s 1968-69 output, while Baby I Love You is conjoined with the eponymous Andy Kim. All albums except for Andy Kim (which was on Uni Records) were originally released on Steed Records, which was founded in 1967 by songwriter/producer Barry as a division of Jeff Barry Enterprises. Distribution was through Dot Records. It was another era, to be sure.
 
Andy Kim, the man with the magic pipes, was born Andre Youakim in Montreal and at age 16 arrived in New York, where he played a song for his Brill Building hero Jeff Barry. Thus began one of the most successful songwriting partnerships of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, which in turn led to Kim’s hit singles and albums for Steed, which are widely regarded as the last, glorious gasp of the Brill Building sound.

The Partridge Family – Sound Magazine

The Partridge Family
Sound Magazine
(Bell, 1971)

Since you’ve tried everything else, why not a fierce, impeccable pop concept album about jism pressure?

Medium Image Released just before The Partridge Family’s second season left the egg, Sound Magazine, like predecessors The Partridge Family Album and Up To Date was produced by Wes Farrell, written by songwriters then resident in popdom’s upper ether (Rupert Holmes, Bobby Hart, Tony Romeo) performed by L. A. session wizards like Hal Blaine (drums) and Michael Melvoin (keys), backup sung by the Love Generation and, not quite incidentally, vocalized by TV mom Shirley Jones and her brilliantly lovelorn son, David Cassidy. Here, then, is product–that base, yet tasty, ore upon which the record industry built its fortunes. Presold to a gigantic preteen audience, there is no conventional rock critic excuse at all for this album’s emotional sweep and delicacy. So much the worse for convention and rock criticism.

Cassidy’s excuse is ambition. On previous outings, Farrell sped up David’s voice to make the star (then in his late teens) sound adolescent. The effect was that of a constipated chipmunk fleeing a series of catgut holocausts. The son of Broadway dynamo Jack Cassidy and Hollywood musical-comedy star Shirley Jones, David fit poorly the then-emerging model of instant pop star, since nothing was above his station, and had every expectation of a long career once the TV show closed. A song-cycle about star-isolation and busted love affairs was a rare perfect fit of commerce and art.

Finally, there’s the scarcely believable, yet unmistakable intent that post-Beatles preteens might respond to a sophisticated, cleverly-wrought whole. The beautiful boy’s sore heart, expressed with magnificent brio in “Rainmaker,” “One Night Stand” and “I Woke Up In Love This Morning” provided kids with tantalizing glimpses of adult miseries they couldn’t wait to have for their very own. (Ron Garmon, from the book Lost in the Grooves: Scram’s Capricious Guide to the Music You Missed)

Black Bubblegum

by James Porter

The Jackson Five were pioneers in ways no one really thinks about. When the Motown label released “I Want You Back” in the waning months of the sixties, the group was probably regarded as nothing more than five cute kids whom Diana Ross supposedly discovered, just another one of those novelty child acts that pop up every few years. As it turned out, they wound up with a #1 hit, bringing “The Motown Sound” up-to-date for the seventies. They spawned a host of imitators

The Lovin’ Spoonful

by Gary Pig Gold
 

Excuse me, but I think America had already produced a more-than-competent “answer” to that great big British Invasion quite some time before the Byrds and “Mr. Tambourine Man” ever reared their jingle-jangled heads.

I speak of the undeniably brilliant, once and forever Happy Hit Machine known as the Lovin’ Spoonful.

With long tangled roots deep within folk, jug-band music and the blues, this quartet somehow squeezed from its diverse musical lineage the deceptively simple brew they called, quite perfectly, Good-Time Music.  In fact the band’s first monumental hit, “Do You Believe In Magic,” was no less than a musical manifesto – a Top Forty Call-To-Arms even! — which instantly launched a solid three-year run of immense yet ** always ** innovative international hits.

The story began in New York City on the momentous night of February 9, 1964.  At 8PM, on the corner of 53rd and Broadway, Ed Sullivan was introducing those four guys from Liverpool to a rightfully astonished nation.  A couple of miles downtown, three under-employed folk singers named Cass Elliot, Zalman Yanovsky and John B. Sebastian were among the 73 million most definitely tuned in.  Then and there, all three decided to form their very own rock ‘n’ roll combos, and after various incarnations and permutations – not to mention a recreational side trip or two (all documented in song and dance, by the way, within the verses of the Mamas & Papas’ “Creeque Alley”) — it was John and Zal who, when the haze had cleared, were wowin’ em every night from the stage of the Night Owl Café with co-conspirators Steve Boone and Joe Butler in tow.  Taking their name from a Mississippi John Hurt tune, the Lovin’ Spoonful soon numbered among their most loyal fans Phil Spector (who lobbied, unsuccessfully as it transpired, to be their producer), local boy Bob Dylan (getting ready to plug himself in at that very time), and a would-be Andrew Loog Oldham name of Erik Jacobsen, who quickly signed the band to the brand new Kama Sutra label.          

Of course, you can safely call the Spoonful “bubblegum” (as just one look at lead guitarist Zal Yanovsky, a human cartoon if ever there was one, will attest), but they were in fact one of those rare bands who dared to – and were capable of – supplying a goodly amount of Substance with their Pop.  Certainly hits such as “Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind?” and especially the landmark “Summer In The City” laid the keyboard-crafted game-plan for much Super K gumness to come, plus the band’s on-stage penchant for brightly-striped T-shirts and over-sized cowboy hats make even the 1989 Musical Marching Zoo‘s stagewear seem downright demure by comparison.  In fact, so potent was the Spoonful’s aura of goofy, glorious mayhem that they were briefly being considered for a starring role in their very own weekly television series!  Lucky for Davy Jones though, the Spoonful seemed content instead to make a cameo appearance in – not to mention write the score for — Woody Allen’s first (and by far greatest) film, 1966’s Japanese Bond spoof “What’s Up, Tiger Lily?”   

Yet beneath all this day-glo zaniness, the band remain widely respected and revered more for their musicianship, and in particular Sebastian’s songwriting, than they are for their happy-go-lucky mugging across Hullabaloo and Shindig.  Tragically though, the luck began to run out in 1967 following the controversial arrest and subsequent removal of Yanovsky back to his home and native Canada (where, until his above-untimely demise in 2002, he continued cookin’ up storms as owner and proprietor of the legendary Chez Piggy restaurant);  by 1969, all that seemed to remain of those once Good Times was the disturbing sight of John Sebastian, clothed from head to toe in tie-dyed denim, babbling about far-outness on the stage of the Woodstock Music and Art Fair.  Yikes!

Nevertheless, the Lovin Spoonful remain a very vital part of 1960’s American Pop, and their early breakthrough period provided a veritable musical and visual blueprint upon which all manner of Bubblegum was shortly thereafter concocted.  And as if that alone wasn’t ample legacy enough, may I now remind you all that the late, so great Zally’s 1968 solo album “Alive And Well In Argentina” just has to be one of the drop-down, most magnificent works of bubble-fried art ever created by man or beast, and as such should immediately be searched out and purchased by each and every person reading these here words.