Sunshine, sunshine

Porpoises, candy canes, flowers, rain, flowers in the rain. Such images were tossed around pretty indiscriminately in the pop music landscape for a few blissful years, thanks in part to West Coast vocal harmony groups like the Mamas & the Papas and the Association. More than mere vogue words, these images suggested the very mecca of warmth and good feeling that California had become by the mid-1960s. Most of all, though, it was sunshine (replaced shortly thereafter by the more countercultural love), which prevailed as this music’s dominant lyrical image. Bright, warm, harmonious, yellow, basically harmless, and, like David Crosby, hurtful to your eyes if you stared at it too long: sunshine was the perfect metaphor for this self-invented Pacific Eden, and the perfect summation of its beatified version of pop music.

Filled with hip Aquarian accoutrement like chimes, flutes, fuzz tone guitars, sitars, and tambourine and, of course, distinguished by its soaring and sunny vocal harmonies, it was a form of pop music which seemed to resonate with starry-eyed, suburban adolescents everywhere. Perversely, its easygoing sophistication resonated with an older generation as well, swingers who respected the idea of cultural currency but who might have otherwise been scared away by the more aggressive and increasingly political strains of rock music.

See also this early post for more sunshine.

1. The Gordian Knot, The Year of the Sun (Verve)
I’ve never heard it, but San Francisco’s Gordian Knot released a full length album (from which this ethereal 45 was taken) that seems to be regarded with near-universal disdain by enthusiasts of ‘60s psychedelia. Due in part to a sensitivity to mellow candy cane vibrations, however, I’ve welcomed “The Year of the Sun” into my own life. I hear lines like “The rhythm of the summer wind calls me again” and I do exactly as I’m told. You just have to learn to feel the flute.

2. Chapter V, The Sun is Green (Verve Folkways)
“The Sun is Green” was the first and best of two psychedelic pop 45’s produced by Chapter V in 1968. They seemed to have been a vehicle for then-Toronto native (and future country producer and husband of Emmylou Harris) Brian Ahern, but little is otherwise known about Chapter V. You’re also not alone if you’re wondering what one takes to make the sun turn green, and where you can score some.

3. The Hard Times, Sad, Sad, Sunshine (World Pacific)
This particular sun seems to be a reminder of love lost. Further details are somewhat hazy, however, since the Hard Times obscured their lyrics in a blanket of gorgeous, echo-splashed harmonies. Obviously they realized the importance of paying lip service to the sun somehow, and, satisfied that they’d fulfilled that obligation, the Hard Times relax on “Sad, Sad, Sunshine,” enjoying their God-given right to jangle.

From San Diego, the Hard Times released one fine, eclectic album and a handful of 45s between 1966 and 1968.