Tim Buckley - Song of the Magician (1966)

Born Timothy Charles Buckley III on February 14, 1947, this American singer and musician had a wide range of recordings that were categorized as folk, avante garde, jazz, experimental rock, soul, and funk, depending on the stage of his career. As a youth, Buckley moved from Washington DC to Southern California, where he and schoolmates formed The Bohemians, a folk band inspired by The Kingston Trio. Besides his band, Buckley started off high school as a bright student, excelling in academics whilst also playing on the baseball and football teams. It would be an injury sustained to his fingers during a football game that would later restrict his fingers’ movement and define his guitar style. Buckley’s second-half of high school was defined by his quitting sports and skipping classes, dubbing them to be of little value so that he could focus more on his musical endeavors. Although his appearances in the classroom were growing less frequent, it was in his high school French class that Buckley would meet his first wife, Mary Guibert.

Mary provided Buckley with an excuse to stay away from his home, where a series of old WWII head-injuries and severe job-related head-injuries had his father becoming increasingly detached and violent. Tim and Mary were hastened to wed on October 25, 1965 after Mary thought she was pregnant. Their marriage, which was ignored by Mary’s father and openly-mocked by Tim’s, quickly spiraled downward after they realized the pregnancy was a false alarm. By the time Mary actually became pregnant with Tim’s first child, the couple was barely seeing one another. Tim, working on his first album, had moved out after deciding he couldn’t cope with his marriage or his wife’s pregnancy. The couple divorced in October 1966, the same month Buckley’s first album was released and just one month before their son Jeff Buckley was born.

Released on his first album, Tim Buckley, this song was written by Tim Buckley and Larry Beckett. Along with Jim Fielder (later of Blood, Sweat & Tears), Larry Beckett had been in the aforementioned band, The Bohemians, with Buckley. When the trio approached Elektra Records about getting signed, it was only Buckley as a solo artist that they expressed interest in. Larry would go on to write or co-author many of Buckley’s songs. This song in particular was written by Buckley and Beckett while the pair was still in high school.



Tim Buckley - Song of the Magician (1966)

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Lyrics:

When I sing, I can't bring everything on the wing
Flying down from dizzy air
To the ground, because I care
You will be love and your love will live

When I smile, I beguile all the while, every mile
As I walk across the sky
Of the clockwork of your eye
You will be love and your love will live

Casting spells from a well
I can tell you, the bells listen to my magic voice
Learn the tunes of children's toys
You will be love and your love will live

When I die, do not cry, hear my sigh passing by
After I have turned to wind
I will try to help you then
You will be love and your love will live

Phil Ochs - No More Songs (1970)

With his clever songwriting and sardonic humor, Phil Ochs wrote a library of songs spotlighting the injustices of the world which he saw around him. He performed his most famous song, previously featured here, “I Ain’t Marching Anymore” to thousands of Vietnam War protestors at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, a performance which led to thousands of young men burning their draft cards on the spot. He was also responsible for the purchase of Pigasus, a one hundred forty-five pound hog nominated for President of the United States by the Youth International Party (the Yippies) at that same convention. Unfortunately, the 1968 Democratic National Convention ended with Chicago police rioting and savagely beating peaceful protestors. Between what took place in Chicago and what else he saw in the changing America around him, he figured that the average American must no longer be interested in the political songs and messages he was trying to get out. By 1970, with a heavy heart, Ochs was abandoning his protest formula for songs and reaching back to his roots, having his new music emulate his childhood inspirations: Elvis, Buddy Holly, Merle Haggard, and more. Over time, an increasing dependency on illegal drugs and an emerging writer’s block led Ochs to turn to alcohol, which then slipped him into a depression that lasted the rest of his life. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder as his mental stability slipped away, which once saw him create an alternate persona for himself for a brief period of time. Despite constant support from his friends and family, Ochs was unable to escape his depression and he hanged himself on April 9, 1976.

Having gone through such a long period where new songs came so easily to him, the end of the ‘60s and beginning of the ‘70s saw Phil Ochs severely struggling to write new material. In February 1970, Ochs released an album titled Greatest Hits, which was not actually a greatest hits album, but a facetious title which featured him on the cover wearing a shiny gold suit akin to Elvis Presley. As mentioned above, he had abandoned topical protest songs and switched to a hybrid of highly produced rock and roll and country music. The entire album was poorly received, with the exception of its last track, the song heard below.

Featured as the last track on his Greatest Hits album, this song was one of Ochs’ most depressing tracks ever recorded. Titled “No More Songs,” his lyrics dealt with not only his loss of ability to write great music as he had in the past, but rhetorically asked how anybody could write great songs as the country spiraled downward into a dire state around him. Sadly, “No More Songs” became prophetic, as Ochs released very few songs after Greatest Hits and never released another full length album again. Ironically, it was an incredibly great song.



Phil Ochs - No More Songs (1970)

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Lyrics:

Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody home?
I've only called to say I'm sorry
The drums are in the dawn
And all the voices gone
And it seems that there are no more songs

Once I knew a girl
She was a flower in a flame
I loved her as the sea sings sadly
Now the ashes of the dream
Can be found in the magazines
And it seems that there are no more songs

Once I knew a saint
Who sang upon the stage
He told about the world, his lover
A ghost without a name
Stands ragged in the rain
And it seems that there are no more songs

The rebels, they were here
They came beside the door
They told me that the moon was bleeding
Then all to my surprise
They took away my eyes
And it seems that there are no more songs

A scar is in the sky
It's time to say goodbye
He withers on the beat, he's dying
A white flag in my hand
And a white boat in the sand
And it seems that there are no more songs

Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody home?
I've only called to say I'm sorry
The drums are in the dawn
And all the voices gone
And it seems that there are no more songs
It seems that there are no more songs
It seems that there are no more songs

The Fender IV - Mar Gaya (1964)

Formed in Baltimore, Maryland in 1962 by school friends, this surf rock band was the brainchild of Randy Holden (born 1945), a future guitarist in Blue Cheer. Besides Holden on lead guitar and vocals, the band also featured Joe Kooken on guitar, Mike Port on bass, and Bruce Miller on drums. Holden decided to move the band out to Los Angeles, California in 1963 where they were hoping to find an audience more receptive to their surf-styled music. Ironically, shortly after they got there, the surf genre was quickly losing popularity to the rise of the British Invasion; so, the band attempted to create songs that either fit one or both of the surf and Merseybeat genres. After the release of the band’s second single, Holden and the guys gave in to shift with the times and renamed themselves the Sons of Adam, focusing on a harder genre of rock. Their drummer Bruce Miller was the only member not to carry on under their new name.

This song was written by Randy Holden at the band’s beach house in Topanga Canyon in California. According to an interview with Holden in 2002, the title is Swahili for “crocodile.” Featured as the A-Side on the band's first single, it was an instrumental track inspired by the surf music of Dick Dale and other big names in surf of the time. The song was backed with the B-Side “You Better Tell Me Now,” a surf/Merseybeat hybrid that attempted to adjust to the British Invasion without losing their surf essence, as mentioned above.



The Fender IV - Mar Gaya (1964)

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Lyrics:

(instrumental)