Well, this weeks songs are both at least country-adjacent. I feel like we're getting quite a lot of country-ish pop, at the moment. It's not quite enough that I feel confident calling it a trend or a resurgence, not least because country's always been popular. But still, if you'd asked me what the sound of 1963 was, I think I'd have to mention the little country touches popping up everywhere - from yodelling and harmonica to string touches, strummy guitar, and yes, even some distractingly fake American accents, this week.
Say I Won't Be There - The Springfields (peaked at Number 5)
I realised pretty quickly on here that I knew the tune for this one. It comes in as a sort of grand fanfare, a big brass intro. And then the guitar starts and the song shifts genres, becoming a sort of country-pop thing, but the tune's the same. It really bugged me for a bit, because it felt like a nursery rhyme, or something similarly basic, but I just couldn't place it. Anyway, turns out it's the French tune Au clair de la lune, which provides practically all of the melody here. It's really simple, just three notes, and quite repetitive, very easy to get the hand of and sing along with.
To their credit, the Springfields have dressed it up, though, until what you've got is quite the country extravaganza, with lots of twangy guitar, fiddly violins, the trumpet in the intro, the works. Most bafflingly, the Springfields are even putting on a strong southern twang. Which is confusing, seeing as how they're originally from London, and, as I've said, singing a song based on a French tune. There's no reason for this to sound so American! And the accent really is so strong as to feel a bit distracting, especially when you know that they're faking it.
I'm also confused by the lyrics, which I can't quite parse? The main refrain is a set of lines asking the listener to call the boys and tell them / Say I won't be there. From which I assume that Dusty's maybe staying home from some sort of social event? If I was extrapolating, I'd link this to the lines about how yesterday was dreaming / But my dream came tumbling down. She sings about feeling lonely, and about a darling who made promises to her. So I'm assuming that maybe she's had a break-up and doesn't want to go out with the rest of them. But it's a bit vague, and there are lines in the whole thing that don't fit so well with this narrative, or just aren't super clear. I do like the idea that this is a song about not going out, though - if only because it would make it part of a run - most notably Up On The Roof - of what I like to think of as "introvert anthems". I mean, yes, Dusty's staying home because she's sad, but still. More songs about just staying home and not wanting to go out, please!
In Dreams - Roy Orbison (6)
Oooh, talk about an unintentionally (?) creepy opening. A candy-coloured clown they call the sandman / Tiptoes to my room every night / Just to sprinkly stardust and to whisper / Go to sleep, everything is alright. Terrifying!
Honestly, though, despite the slightly frightening imagery, I do think it's quite a soothing, calm start to the song. Roy's singing quite quietly, over just a guitar, and the overall effect's one of basically a lullaby. And so Roy falls asleep, and that's where the song really picks up. I close my eyes and I drift away / Into the magic night. He prays for his love to come, then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you. Which is such a lovely, romantic idea, just praying that you'll dream of the person you love.
In all this, there's a swell to the music, a picking-up and a gaining of momentum as Roy finally slips into the longed-for dream. We gradually gain tango-like strings, backing singers, piano, almost as if the song's trying to reflect how much realer and more vivid the dreams feel. And yet, as we hit the peak of the song, and Roy hits his highest, most emotional falsetto, as everything collapses, telling us how just before the dawn / I awake and find you gone. Dreams are wonderful, but they're not real. I can't help it / I can't help it / If I cry, Roy sings, I remember that you said goodbye / It's too bad that all these things / Can only happen in my dreams. Talk about a sad ending! Roy gives it his all here, too, he genuinely sounds like he's about to start crying, and not in a fake, theatrical way. I've really grown to appreciate the vulnerability and genuine emotion that Roy packs into all his songs. He's got a real way with melancholy material, and this is a prime example - he really sells it, with a good deal of maturity and wistfulness.
It's also notable for not really having a verse or chorus structure. Instead, the song just shifts through several unrelated parts. Some people apparently say it's split into seven parts - I can't quite tell where one ends and the next starts, honestly, but it is quite clearly through-composed. Which is a rarity in pop music - all too often, you hear about the virtues of a catchy hook, something to stick in people's heads. But Roy quite frequently eschews it in favour of something a bit more dramatic and tailored to the story he's telling - in Running Scared, for example, it was one big climactic crescendo. Whereas here, you've got a song that mirrors how Roy's feeling, starting sleepy, ramping-up as he slips into a dream, then going for this big, bittersweet turn in the middle, finally dying down, just a bit at the end, as he admits that it's an impossible dream, that it could never be real. And all of this ranges right the way across Roy's ridiculously huge vocal range. Truly, nobody else was out there doing it like Roy!
I'm a big Roy Orbison fan. I quite liked him before this project got started. But I wouldn't have said I knew many of his songs, beyond the best-known ones. Which is a shame, because stuff like In Dreams is an absolute tour de force of interesting songwriting - both the lyrics, and the melody of it. Compare to the simple borrowed tune and weird country twang of Say I Won't Be There, and I think I know which one I prefer this week!
We're here, and what can I say? There's just not much that feels comparable, at least not to me. Perhaps our first Elvis number? But even then, Elvis' music feels distinctly old-fashioned, to me. When it's good, it's great, but it's rock and roll music, it's 1950s and 1960s music, it's something from a bygone era. I don't generally listen to Elvis and hear popular music as it is today, 2025. Today's band? They're pop musicians, here to pull popular music kicking and screaming into the future. Move over Cliff, move over Frank, move over Del, there's a new group in town. They're a right scruffy bunch of oiks. But I think they've got potential, I really do!
Please Please Me - The Beatles (peaked at Number 2)
Because yes, it's the Beatles. They're a group I've loved for quite a long time, and, I mean, they're the Beatles, they're the definition of iconic. Ask anybody on the street, even with the slightest notion of popular music history, and they'd probably be able to tell you something about the Beatles' innovations in the realm of pop music, their success in the US, the absolute madness that was Beatlemania. We'll eventually see them become stars at a scale never before seen, and rarely since.
And yet, we meet them here before a lot of that. They'd formed in 1956 as the Quarrymen, a high school skiffle band from Liverpool, and saw a few personnel changes before finally settling into their final form, as "the Beatles", a name chosen as a pun and a riff on Buddy Holly's Crickets. They fairly famously then end up getting a residency in Hamburg, honing their craft in the rowdy clubs of the Reeperbahn red light district, before returning to Liverpool and gaining in popularity there, most famously at the Cavern Club. So they were known, and fairly experienced. But it was only in 1962 that Brian Epstein picked them up, and only in 1963 that they got signed. Famously - it's almost mythological at this point - they auditioned for Decca first, and were rejected, on the grounds that "guitar groups are on the way out". Fortunately, EMI with George Martin saw sense. Swap the drummer out for Ringo Starr, and you've got the iconic lineup, just in time for them to start releasing new singles, first Love Me Do, which saw moderate success, but not too much. Still, it was enough for George Martin to give them another shot. And the result is this, Please Please Me.
Immediately, you notice that it's a just an exciting track. It's fast, with a full, driving sound, lots of fashionably twangy guitar, Frank Ifield-style harmonica, and some absolutely beautiful harmonies. None of these are completely new, but the combination, and the sheer fullness of the sound, something about the rhythm of it, the pace, does feel very fresh. It's a sound that was linked particularly to Liverpool, hence the name for the genre, Merseybeat. And this, in and of itself, a distinct shift in the geography of the UK music scene. Until now, it's been folks like Cliff - from London, and recording soft rock and roll ballads in London. The Beatles, with their Northern accents, their catchy melodies and their simple but slightly raw edge, are a complete shock to the system, and even recording in London, as they are now, at this point, their music just sounds different, in a very refreshing way.
I will also say that I already like Lennon-McCartney's songwriting. The first listen-through I really didn't focus on it, fixated as I was on the sound. I zoomed in on the guitars, the drums, the prettiness of the harmonies, and I didn't really think too hard about the lyrics, beyond the please please me hook. I assumed it was just a song about the Beatles asking a girl to show an interest in them. But actually, it's more about being with somebody who's not giving as much as you are, in a relationship. Hence the opening set up, last night I said these words to my girl. It's a lover's spat, a disagreement. I know you never even try, girl, they sing, asking why they always have to be the one encouraging their girl. I don't want to sound complaining, they complain, but you know there's always rain in my heart / I do all the pleasing with you / It's so hard to reason with you. They're actually kind of harsh lines, very guilt-trippy, but in a realistic way. And yeah, it doesn't sound like the girl's entirely innocent here, either. And, at the end of the day, it's just really catchy stuff. You've got lots of nice little touches like the double meaning of "please", the fun mid-line half-rhyme with "pleasing" and "reason", the almost-ironic way that the Beatles continue to refer to their girl as "love" even as they complain about her not making enough of an effort. And it's all wrapped up in beautiful harmonies, a convincingly desperate-sounding slightly snarly delivery on the come on bits, and more whoahs as you can shake a stick at.
If Love Me Do was good enough for them to make another record, this is the record that made the Beatles. It debuted in January 1963 and on one of the worst winters in living memory, a large part of the UK population apparently ended up snowed-in watching them on a popular music show, Thank Your Lucky Stars, for lack of much else to do. Please Please Me caught the national imagination, as did the Beatles themselves, with their distinctive mop-top hairstyles and general charm. They were quickly booked for various tours and performances nationwide, and got bumped up the bill on tours they were already booked for - including Roy Orbison, who this song was initially meant to emulate.
Island of Dreams - The Springfields (5)
I always feel sorry for songs like this, up against some giant like the Beatles. That said, this one does fairly well for itself. We start with yet more harmonica - at which point I wonder if we're maybe having a bit of a harmonica moment, right now? Between Frank, the Beatles and this, we're getting a lot of them. One instrument aside, though, this is pretty different to Please Please Me. Where Please Please me was an intense, forward-facing Merseybeat rocker, grounded in a very straightforwardly-described romantic dilemma, Island of Dreams feels a lot more traditional, a folksy country number, and a lot flowerier and more poetic with its lyrics.
Not that the Springfields are much happier in love than the Beatles were. I wander the streets, they sing, and the gay crowded places / Trying to forget you. Unfortunately, whatever they do, their memories haunt them, their mind straying back to our last sweet embraces / Over the sea on the island of dreams. They're lost in memories, it seems. And interestingly, the take-away from this doesn't seem to be "please take me back" or "please let us be reunited" or even just a basic "wahhhhh, look at me, I'm so sad". Instead, the song veers to a bird, flying high in the sky. Please carry me with you, the Springfields entreat it / Far far away from the mad rushing crowd. They're broken-hearted, and they just want to get away from the streets they're currently stuck wandering, just want to be brough somewhere where they're left in peace to wallow in happier memories.
In all this, I could have sworn that the Springfields were an American band, just based on the accents. But no, they were Brits, a vocal trio from London, including none other than Dusty Springfield, as well as her brother, Tom, and a friend of theirs, Tim Feild. I quite like Dusty, and knowing it's her voice, I can absolutely hear it. She's a fantastic singer, and in general, the harmonies and vocals here are pretty tight. I think I'd be giving them a lot more praise here if I hadn't just heard the Beatles with some even tighter, prettier harmonies. Still, let it be noted that this song does sound nice. It almost makes me think of bands like the Teddy Bears, with To Know Him Is to Love Him - a song with some similarly squishy harmonies and dramatic tendencies. Which might be another reason I assumed this was American?
Irrelevant, but I also will note that the version of this I'm listening to has a fabulous picture on the album sleeve of the two men, both in some hilariously ugly beige suits and light green stripy ties (!) flanking Dusty, who had a very 1960s hairstyle, a massive poofy skirt and a purple blouse that doesn't match the men's look at all, plus she's is leaning on an absolutely huge conga drum. It's such an amusingly awkward promo picture, and I love it dearly.
I will say, if you'd asked me what the first Beatles track we'd cover was, I don't think I'd have said Please Please Me. They're the Beatles, so even their "lesser-known" hits are pretty big. Ask a random person on the street, and I think there's a reasonable chance of them knowing Please Please Me, or at least being able to name it as a Beatles song. But still, in the grand scale of things, Please Please Me feels like quite a rogue song - less recognisable than Love Me Do, despite officially being the more successful of the two, and less Beatles-y than, say, I Wanna Hold Your Hand, the song that would eventually bring them to widespread success in the US, kicking off the British Invasion proper. Still, it's a good track, and has all the elements in it that made the early-days Beatles good - we've got a driving beat, a simple but catchy melody, harmonious vocals, some solid but straightforward songwriting, and, of course, a distinctive, eye-catching stage presence. The scene's set. And it won't be long at all until we see them again.
promotional sarah records poster from 1988. in their own words, straight outta their website:
"A poster to advertise the release of SARAHs 7, 8, 9 and 10 in the summer of 1988. Not quite sure what we’ve had done with this, to be honest, beyond sticking it on the wall in Revolver Records in Bristol…"
