I’m not feelin’ too good myself

If the number of times you’ve seen a musical artist in concert is any indication of how much you enjoy their body of work, then Dave Mason must rank among my Top Five. Between 1975 and 2014, I saw the guy perform nine times. Whether it was at an outdoor amphitheater, a grand music hall, a college gymnasium or a small club, Mason never failed me with his choice of material, his alternately warm/gruff voice and his assured command of the guitar, both electric and acoustic. And for a guy who never sought the spotlight and claimed to feel a bit uncomfortable as a front man, he had an affable way about him that always made for a delightful evening.

This week, sadly, I must report that Mason has died at age 79. He had a mighty colorful career, mostly as a solo artist but also as a founding member of the esoteric British band Traffic and as a collaborative side man with a bevy of other artists over the years. While many of his peers in the business focused on volume or virtuosity, Mason seemed more interested in nuance and feel, combining American blues, English folk and melodic pop into something almost fluid and much more personal.

Here’s Dave Mason in a photo I took at a 1977 concert in Cleveland

Born in 1946, Mason was one of those British kids who, in an attempt to find something to relieve the boredom and hardship of post-war life in England, discovered music. Like John Lennon, Keith Richards, Pete Townshend and others in the same time and environment, Mason found Elvis, Buddy Holly and early rock and roll, and the blues, all American-born genres that excited him, energized him.

Mason was only 15 when, after learning to play guitar, he joined his first band The Jaguars, and then The Hellions, playing clubs in his native Worcester as well as Birmingham and eventually the rock club mecca of Hamburg, Germany, just as The Beatles and others had done. Drummer/singer Jim Capaldi was also in The Hellions, and among the bands they performed with was The Spencer Davis Group, which featured the astounding vocals and keyboards of Steve Winwood.

Mason and Winwood in front; Capaldi and Wood in back, 1967

Sometimes Mason and Capaldi would jam with Winwood after shows, bringing in sax and flute player Chris Wood from another band. The foursome found that they enjoyed the music they were making, giving Winwood the reason he needed to leave Spencer Davis, and they formed their own group, which they named Traffic (after waiting to cross a busy street one day, as the story goes).

The music that resulted from the group’s retreat to a quiet cottage in the Berkshires was a fascinating amalgam of folk, jazz, rock and psychedelic pop, using everything from Mellotron and sitar to flute and fuzz guitar. The band’s early work helped redefine what a rock ensemble could be—loose yet precise, pastoral yet experimental. Mason’s simple and straightforward folk-rock songs both contrasted with and complimented the more complex, haunting rock jams the Winwood/Capaldi partnership came up with. Although that diversity was key to the band’s appeal, it also caused an internal tension that was never really resolved.

In 1967, Traffic had back-to-back hits right out of the gate in the UK. The infectious Winwood-Capaldi tune “Paper Sun” was a Top Five hit, and Mason’s quirky “Hole in My Shoe” just missed #1 there. Winwood, who preferred the give and take of jamming to produce a song, made no bones about not liking Mason’s songs much. “‘Hole in My Shoe’ was a trite little song that didn’t mean anything,” said Winwood years later. Mason said he felt like the odd man out, and shortly after the release of Traffic’s debut album “Mr. Fantasy” (a Top Ten success in England), he left the group and headed to London and then Los Angeles to explore musical possibilities there.

“I was young, and the early fame freaked me out a bit,” said Mason. “The other guys had a chemistry and a lifestyle I wasn’t really a part of, so I impulsively decided to try going solo. I hung around London for a while, then moved to the States.”

Hendrix and Mason, 1968

During that period, he befriended Jimi Hendrix and ended up contributing to his “Electric Ladyland” LP, playing acoustic 12-string on “All Along the Watchtower,” a song that he would eventually cover quite convincingly on a solo LP and in concert years later. Mason later described the experience as inspirational, recalling the moment of sitting across from Hendrix and laying down the track as among the most vivid of his career. “Jimi created a space where anything could happen,” Mason said. “You just had to be ready when it did.”

Mason earned a reputation as a sought-after collaborator and sideman, working with all kinds of artists across genres and generations. His adaptability allowed him to move between projects with ease, whether contributing guitar lines, songwriting or production insight. He was invited to add sitar to The Rolling Stones’ “Street Fighting Man” in 1968 and was in on some of the star-studded sessions for George Harrison’s “All Things Must Pass” LP in 1970. Five years later, he guested on guitar for Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Listen What the Man Said.” (In his 2024 memoir, Mason good-naturedly referred to himself as “the Forrest Gump of rock.”)  

“Traffic” album (1968) with Mason pictured upper right

Back in 1968, Traffic was touring the U.S. as a trio, ending up in a New York studio afterwards to work on their follow-up album, entitled simply “Traffic.” The band didn’t have enough material for a whole album, so Winwood reluctantly agreed to ask Mason to return, and Mason came to the conclusion that he may have been rash in leaving. Among the songs he brought to the recording sessions was “Feelin’ Alright?,” which would end up a bonafide rock classic. Some said the song expressed Mason’s ambivalence about his time with Traffic (“Seems I’ve got to have a change in scene…“), but he denied this. “It’s just a song about a girl. It’s just another relationship gone bad.” Traffic’s version is sublime, but it was Joe Cocker’s compelling rendition that got most of the airplay, then and now. Three Dog Night, Grand Funk and Mason himself also recorded it.

Still, the uneasy vibes between Mason and the others remained. Winwood felt Traffic was his band and bristled when Mason’s songs upstaged his. Recalled Mason in his 2024 memoir, “He told me, ‘I don’t like the way you write. I don’t like the way you sing. I don’t like the way you play. And we don’t want you in the band any more.'” He got the message and left again, although it turns out it didn’t much matter, because Winwood put Traffic on hiatus for a spell, choosing to collaborate with Eric Clapton in the short-lived supergroup Blind Faith in 1969.

Mason returned to L.A., where he’d been making friends with many in the red-hot music climate there. He found himself hanging out with the likes of Stephen Stills, Leon Russell, Gram Parsons, Mama Cass Elliot, Delaney and Bonnie and others, and often performed on their albums (credited and uncredited). He and Elliot recorded a fairly decent album together in 1969, with Mason writing the majority of material and Elliot offering up her fine harmonies, but it would be another two years before it was released to a lukewarm reception. (You’d be well advised to listen to “Walk to the Point,” “Too Much Truth, Too Much Love” and “Pleasing You” to hear the best moments.)

Mason and Cass Elliot’s duet LP

By early 1970, Mason had written and recorded demos of a group of eight songs, and pitched them to a few companies. Bob Krasnow and Tommy LiPuma, who would become industry moguls running Warners and Elektra years later, were just starting out their label, Blue Thumb Records, and when they heard the demos, they were eager to sign Mason. “The songs were so strong, you had to be deaf not to hear it,” said LiPuma. “He was such a great player and songwriter.”

They offered the budget to bring in a stellar cast of players for the sessions: Jim Gordon and Carl Radle from Delaney and Bonnie’s band, Leon Russell on keyboards, singers Bonnie Bramlett and Rita Coolidge, and LiPuma himself co-producing with Mason. The result was the aptly titled “Alone Together” (solo but with plenty of help), easily Mason’s best and most consistent LP. Critics loved it and fans flocked to it, and it peaked at an impressive #22 on the US charts.

Mason’s “Alone Together” LP, 1970

The songs were deeply melodic, and Mason’s distinctive 12-string guitar and husky, soulful vocals shone particularly brightly on “World in Changes” and “Sad and Deep as You.” The infectious leadoff track, “Only You and I Know,” had a disappointing showing as the single, stalling at #42 in the US (although Delaney and Bonnie’s cover version the next year reached #22 and turned a lot of heads). Mason was a minstrel at heart, but he also played a mean electric guitar, demonstrated most clearly on “Shouldn’t Have Took More Than You Gave” and especially “Look at You, Look at Me,” where his solo in the final minutes will have you picking your jaw up off the floor.

It was at this point that Mason made a fateful decision to play hardball with his record company. He insisted on making a double album, half studio and half live, and he wanted a better contract too, but the label balked at both demands. He went so far as to abscond with master tapes of the sessions in progress, and that move didn’t work out well. “Mason wanted out because Columbia was offering him a deal,” said LiPuma. “‘Alone Together’ sold well, and he was becoming an arena-rock draw on the road. But instead of negotiating, he took our tapes, which we saw as blackmail.” What Mason didn’t know is LiPuma had a back-up set of masters, and with them, he cobbled together “Headkeeper,” an album made without Mason’s approval that included four new but demo-like studio tracks and five live songs performed at L.A.’s Troubadour in 1972.

Because Mason was unhappy with the unfinished tracks, and he hadn’t approved the album’s song selection, mixing or cover art, he declared it “little more than a bootleg” and urged fans to avoid it. It wasn’t bad, but it could’ve been much better (it could only muster #50 on U.S. charts). It was an ill-advised turn of events that hurt his career momentum.  He couldn’t record elsewhere until the business mess could be resolved, so he went out on the road, touring relentlessly, which made him a lot of money and became a way of life for him.

Columbia ended up signing him a year later and bought out the Blue Thumb contract, and their mostly amicable relationship lasted throughout the 1970s. The Columbia debut, 1973’s “It’s Like You Never Left,” sold reasonably well and was a favorite with Mason fans. Among its high points were a reworked, superior version of “Headkeeper,” a great little instrumental jam called “Sidetracked,” and a lovely ballad, “The Lonely One,” that features Stevie Wonder’s incomparable harmonica.

“It’s Like You Never Left,” 1973

Mason’s solid covers of “Watchtower” and Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home to Me” highlight his 1974 album, simply titled “Dave Mason,” which also included excellent originals like “Show Me Some Affection” and “Every Woman.” His 1975 LP “Split Coconut” showed a growing sameness about his songs, but there were still a few tracks that showed he hadn’t lost his touch (“Give Me a Reason Why” and “You Can Lose It”). As Peter Frampton’s juggernaut “Frampton Comes Alive!” soared up the charts in 1976, Columbia rushed out a lookalike package for Mason’s “Certified Live” double album, which was pretty damn good, but sales were flat.

Mason needed the one thing he’d never had yet — a hit single. That came with his guitar compatriot Jim Krueger’s great song “We Just Disagree.” Its lyrics seemed to hit a nerve with the music-listening public; whether you’re married or just dating, when you feel you’re no longer compatible, you throw in the towel, hopefully amicably:  “So let’s leave it alone, ’cause we can’t see eye to eye, /There ain’t no good guy, there ain’t no bad guy, /There’s only you and me, and we just disagree…“. The recording was crisp and polished, as was the excellent “Let It Flow” album it came from. FM radio was good to Mason in 1977, putting “So High,” “Mystic Traveler” and “Let It Go, Let It Flow” in heavy rotation, and “We Just Disagree” reached #12 on the Top 40 charts. One more gold album came in 1978, “Mariposa de Oro,” which sounded like a slightly inferior sequel to “Let It Flow” — gorgeous production but only a few strong songs (“So Good to Be Home,” “Warm Desire” and a cover of “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow”).

“Let It Flow,” 1977

The pop music scene changed as the Seventies became the Eighties, and Mason found it no longer suited him. His last LP for Columbia, “Old Crest on a New Wave,” alludes to the invasion of new-wave bands (and pop/dance artists) that would dominate the proceedings for the next decade or so. Said Mason in the ’90s, “The latest flavor was something I didn’t want to be any part of. I didn’t fit into the business at that point.” Embroiled in a contractual dispute with Columbia Records, Mason toured with Krueger as a duet act, then released “Two Hearts” on MCA Records in 1987, which turned out to be his last LP on a major label.  

I almost don’t want to mention his short stint in Fleetwood Mac in 1994-95 for the largely forgettable “Time” album, mentioned on a few “Worst Albums of the 1990s” lists. Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks were gone, and Christine McVie, who had quit touring, was on the sessions only as a favor to the label, so it was a radically different lineup with Mason, rockabilly guitarist Billy Burnette and Southern soul singer Bekka Bramlett, daughter of Delaney and Bonnie. A good time was not had by all.

“26 Letters, 12 Notes,” 2008

It wouldn’t be until 2008 when Mason added to his catalog with “26 Letters, 12 Notes” on a Sony subsidiary label. No one noticed (I admit it went under my radar too), but when I first heard it a few years ago, I was thrilled by the quality of songs and production. The blues groove of “Good 2 U,” the inventive melodic lines of “How Do I Get to Heaven” and “Passing Thru the Flame,” the pretty acoustic/electric instrumental “El Toro” — these rank up there with Mason’s better work, I’m pleased to say. 

Mason was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2004 as part of Traffic. Chris Wood had died in 1983, but Mason, Winwood and Capaldi all attended and seemed to get along reasonably well, participating in the end-of-evening jam of “Feelin’ Alright” with Keith Richards, Jackson Browne, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, The Temptations and ZZ Top. 

Over the past 15-20 years, Mason had remained active, performing periodically. During the COVID shutdown, just for fun, he convened a virtual band online called Dave Mason and The Quarantines that included Sammy Hagar, Michael McDonald, Mick Fleetwood, and Patrick Simmons, Tom Johnston and John McFee of The Doobie Brothers to cut a new version of “Feelin’ Alright” that’s well worth a viewing on YouTube. A recording is on my Spotify playlist at the end

Mason was significantly active in philanthropies, including Little Kids Rock, a non-profit that promotes music education for disadvantaged children; YogaBlue, which promotes yoga as a therapy for those in substance abuse recovery; and Rock Our Vets, which provides food and clothing and access to computers for homeless veterans.

Mason in 2014

I last saw Mason in 2014 at a members-only private show at the Grammy Museum in L.A., and while he played only 40 minutes, he didn’t disappoint. His voice and guitar skills were still mighty impressive.

Two more Mason LPs came out in recent years that escaped my attention until this week. In 2020, he recorded “Alone Together Again,” on which he revisited the songs from his 1970 LP, most of which were merely serviceable, but his new take on “Look at You, Look at Me” is incredible, so I included it on the playlist below. Then in 2023, he collaborated with guitar wizard Joe Bonamassa and singer Michael McDonald, among others, on a captivating set of songs called “A Shade of Blues” that really impressed me.

In 2024, Mason announced the cancellation of all of his 2025 tour dates due to “ongoing health challenges,” one of which my wife and her friends had been planning to attend. Though he originally planned to reschedule these dates, he ended up retiring from touring while saying he would continue to occasionally release new material.

In light of the public disdain Winwood held toward Mason over the years, it was somewhat surprising (maybe disingenuous) that he released a complimentary statement this week in the wake of Mason’s death: “Dave was part of Traffic during its earliest chapter, and played an important role in shaping the band’s sound and identity during that time. Those years remain a special part of the band’s story, and Dave’s contribution to them is not forgotten. His place in that history will always be remembered. His songwriting, musicianship, and distinctive spirit helped create music that has lasted far beyond its era, and continues to mean so much to listeners around the world.”

I like the way a Facebook page called Sunset Blvd. Records summarized Mason: “In songs that explored love, separation and the passage of time, he offered listeners something both intimate and universal. As his voice fades from the stage, it remains preserved in recordings that continue to speak with clarity and grace. His songs never shouted for attention, but they stayed with you, and in the long arc of popular music, that quiet persistence may be the most enduring legacy of all.”

Mason may have put it best himself in a 2020 interview: “I’m not a rock star, let’s put it that way. I never wanted to be. I just wanted to write great music, make some money and have fun.”

Rest in peace, Dave. Your songs, your performances and your inherently good nature will remain a vital part of my musical memories from my formative years and beyond.

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All my friends stand up and cheer and say ‘Man, you’re old’

I once saw a posting on Facebook that said, “There is a time in one’s life when it’s appropriate to stop having birthday parties.  That age is 11.”

That seems a bit harsh.  There’s “Sweet Sixteen” (driver’s license time);  there’s 18 (voting age);  there’s 21 (drinking age);  there’s 30 (“over the hill” parties).  And you could make a case for 40, 50, and every decade thereafter as significant milestones.

But really, don’t we go a little crazy about the whole birthday thing?  It’s just another day on life’s journey, isn’t it?  Apparently not, say some folks, who relish the opportunity to shower friends and loved ones with loads of attention one day every year. And if it’s a milestone birthday, look out. Things are going to ramp up quickly to an excessive level.

At the risk of being inundated with social media attention, I must wearily announce I am turning 71 years old today. Too old to rock and roll? No way, man! Too old to attend Coachella, certainly; too old to stay up past 10 pm, probably. Not too old to play my music loud!

Birthdays are going to continue to be commemorated, so it’s always good to have some appropriate songs to mark the occasion.  I’ve taken the liberty of compiling an eclectic list of tunes — some hits, some obscure, some ancient, some fairly new, some joyous, some reflective — that can come in handy when you want to pay respect to, or reflect upon, turning another year older, the act of aging, or growing up.

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“Birthday,” The Beatles, 1968

Most of the 30 tracks that fill “The White Album” were written during the band’s retreat in India in early 1968, but “Birthday” was born in one night only weeks before the album’s release in November.   Lennon and McCartney had been listening to an old ’50s doo-wop birthday song and wanted to come up with something a bit more contemporary, more rock ‘n roll.  McCartney started banging out the basic chord progressions on the piano, and a few hours later, the whole gang reconvened to flesh it out and shout out the vocals in unison with great fervor.  It has earned classic Beatles status despite not being released as a single, but Lennon’s opinion of it a few years later?  “A load of rubbish.”

“My Back Pages,” The Byrds, 1967

This classic tune by Bob Dylan isn’t a birthday song, but it qualifies for this playlist because of its pointed line about aging: “Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.”  Many regard Dylan’s sentiment here as one of self-doubt and even regret regarding past life events and beliefs, which is something that happens to most of us as we get on in years. Dylan wrote it at the tender age of 23 for his 1964 LP “Another Side of Bob Dylan,” and it was recorded by a number of other artists, Monty notably The Byrds, who’s rendition reached #30 on US charts in 1967. An all-star cast including Dylan himself collaborated in 1994 on a live version of “My Back Pages” at a Madison Square Garden celebration that’s available on YouTube.

“Birthday,” Katy Perry, 2013

Considering Perry said this disco-ish hit single was inspired by Mariah Carey, you’d think this wouldn’t be my cup of tea, but lo and behold, I kind of like it. It’s certainly a festive tune; one critic called it “pure fun” and “the best thing on the ‘Prism’ album.” Another critic said it reminded him of Prince or Daft Punk, marked by “jerky breaks and synth washes.” Perry chose to spice it up with lyrics that amount to an invitation for sex: “Boy, when you’re with me, I’ll give you a taste, make it like your birthday every day… So let me get you in your birthday suit, it’s time to bring out the big balloons (Woo!)…” It reached #17 on US pop charts and #1 on the dance club chart in early 2014.

“Old,” Paul Simon, 2000

You could always count on Simon to come up with something either poignant or whimsical to say about pretty much any topic, and on his 2000 LP “You’re The One,” he didn’t disappoint. On the track “Old,” he found a way to be both wry and thoughtful in the same set of lyrics when he addressed the subject of birthdays: “Down the decades every year, summer leaves and my birthday’s here, and all my friends stand up and cheer and say, ‘Man, you’re old, gettin’ old, OLD, gettin’ old…’”  This is one of my favorite lesser-known Simon albums, and this track in particular always makes me smile.

“Birthday,” Kim Wilde, 2018

In the 1980s and 1990s, British singer Wilde charted several dozen Top 20 singles in the UK and other European countries, but her popularity in the US has been far more sparse, limited mostly to her huge #1 cover version of The Supremes’ “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” in 1987. Although she has curiously chosen to pursue a successful side career in horticulture beginning in 2001, Wilde has continued to have a minor presence in the music scene as well. From her 2018 LP “Here Come the Aliens,” I stumbled on yet another tune entitled “Birthday,” which features some uncharacteristically biting guitar work by Neil Jones and upbeat dance vibes: “You gotta jump like it’s your birthday, you gotta shout like there’s no tomorrow, /This is now, gotta show ’em how to party, the night is yours, /It’s your birthday!…”

“Done Got Old,” Buddy Guy, 2001

One of the most legendary blues guitarists of all time, Buddy Guy turns 89 years old this year, and he certainly knows a thing or two about aging and the limitations it brings, although you wouldn’t know it from listening to him perform, which he is STILL doing now and then. This track from his 2001 LP “Sweet Tea” — his eleventh out of 20 albums in 55 years — uses a simple acoustic Delta blues guitar and voice arrangement to sing these lyrics of resignation about life’s realities (that, frankly, hit a little close to the bone for me these days):  “I can’t look like I used to, I can’t walk like I used to, I can’t love like I used to, /Now things gone changed, and I done got old, I can’t do the things I used to do, ’cause I’m an old man…”

“Happy, Happy Birthday Baby,” Dolly Parton & Willie Nelson, 1982

The original recording of this slice of doo-wop from 1957 by The Tune Weavers reached #5 on the charts in the early years of the rock era.   It was written by Margo Sylvia and Gilbert Lopez, and Sylvia sang lead vocals on the track. The lyrics mourn the narrator’s recent breakup with her boyfriend and how much she wanted to be by his side on his birthday.  The original is a little too cheesy for my tastes, so I looked at some of the cover versions (Ronnie Milsap, Wanda Jackson, Sandy Posey) and decided to feature the duet by Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson, which appeared on the 1982 compilation LP “The Winning Hand,” which included 20 songs featuring Parton, Nelson, Brenda Lee and Kris Kristofferson.

“As I Come of Age,” Stephen Stills, 1975

Written by Stills in 1971, this fine tune has an interesting history. Stills recorded the basic piano track with Ringo Starr on drums during a session in London that year, then resurrected it in 1973, intended as the title track of a Stills solo LP. He overdubbed organ and bass, and Donnie Davis added guitar. The vocal harmonies are by Crosby, Stills and Nash, the first time they’d recorded again as a trio in four years. The threesome reunited with Neil Young in 1974 for a stadium tour, and they sometimes performed the song during those concerts. Finally, he released the song on his solo “Stills” album in 1975. The lyrics, which reflect on how emotions can ebb and flow with the passage of time, bemoan a young man’s loss of his love, made more painful with each passing year:  “Yes but it’s all over now, I’m a little bit older now, the lessons that I’m learning now are gonna make it easy somehow…”

“Advice for the Young at Heart,” Tears for Fears, 1989

This dreamy song about life lessons is one of my favorite tracks on the #8 LP “The Seeds of Love” by this excellent British pop-rock duo.  Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith made Tears for Fears a household name in the ’80s with “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” “Shout,” “Head Over Heels” and “Sowing the Seeds of Love,” but this deeper track always grabs me whenever I hear it. The lyrics depict an older, experienced person who offers a cautionary tale to a younger man of the importance of doing the hard work now to make a relationship successful, because, as they say, life is short:  “Soon we will be older, when we gonna make it work? /We’ve got the whole wide world in our hands…”

“Birthday Song,” Don McLean, 1972

When asked what his phenomenally iconic song “American Pie” means, he used to wink and say, “It means I never have to work again for the rest of my life.” While it’s true that royalties from that classic have continued to flow in every year for half a century, McLean wrote and released another 15 albums and scored a few other hits (“Vincent,” “Dreidel,” “Crying”) as well. On the downbeat “Don McLean” album that followed “American Pie” in 1972, McLean wrote a philosophical piece called “Birthday Song” in which he confessed it was hard to write songs from the heart: “All along, I loved the song, but I never learned it through, /But since the day you came along, I’ve saved it just for you… /’Life continues right or wrong when I play this birthday song…”

“Years,” Beth Nielsen Chapman, 1990  

“And I thought about years, how they take so long, and they go so fast…”  Wow.  Such a concise and profound statement about life, and aging, and the need to embrace each moment. Chapman, a gifted singer as well as songwriter, has more than a dozen albums full of songs with an extraordinarily wise lyrical viewpoint.  This song, with its aching melody and sober reflection on her childhood, is perhaps my personal favorite of hers, from her “Beth Nielsen Chapman” album in 1990.

“Growin’ Up,” Bruce Springsteen, 1973

This was one of two songs that Springsteen performed for Columbia Records honcho John Hammond in 1972 that won him his recording contract. It appeared on his debut “Greetings From Asbury Park” LP and has made regular appearances on his concert setlist for more than 50 years. Ironically, the fact that he still plays it in his 70s speaks to its emotional wallop as a nostalgic tribute to getting older. One critics said, “It deftly captures the unhinged joy, defiance, angst and frustration of turning from teen to young man.”  “I broke all the rules, strafed my old high school, never once gave thought to landing, /I hid in the clouded warmth of the crowd, but when they said, ‘Come down,’ I threw up, /Ooh, ooh, growin’ up…”

“Happy Birthday,” Stevie Wonder, 1980

Ever since Martin Luther King’s assassination in 1968, civil rights groups passionately called for his birthday to be commemorated as a national holiday. It took 15 years, but in 1983, President Ronald Reagan, of all people, approved the idea and established MLK Day as the third Monday in January. One of the key cheerleaders of the movement was Stevie Wonder, who wrote his tune “Happy Birthday” for his “Hotter Than July” album in 1980, with lyrics that wondered why anyone would oppose a holiday in honor of the chief spokesperson for the use of nonviolent activism to bring about societal change. It was not released as a single in the US, but in the UK and other countries, it reached the Top Five on pop charts, and it’s warmly regarded as one of Wonder’s signature songs.

“Reelin’ in the Years,” Steely Dan, 1972

Did they mean the years were being reeled in, like a fishing line?  Or did they mean we’re all dizzily trying to keep it together, just reeling as the years go by?  As usual, furtive composers Donald Fagen and Walter Becker wouldn’t say, but both interpretations offer interesting takes on what the lyrics to this classic tune from the band’s “Can’t Buy a Thrill” debut LP are really about.  Either way, the song evokes a certain wistfulness about the years slipping by as we get older: “Your everlasting summer, you can see it fading fast, so you grab a piece of something that you think is gonna last… /Are you reelin’ in the years?…”

“Grow Old With Me,” John Lennon, 1980/1984

Inspired by the poetry of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lennon and his wife Yoko Ono each wrote songs based on favorite poems, then blended them into this endearing piece.  It was intended for the “Double Fantasy” comeback album, but instead they chose to hold it for the follow-up album, “Milk and Honey.”  Sadly, they could never make an official recording due to Lennon’s murder, but one of the rough demos they made appears on that pothumous LP.  They hoped it would become a standard, played in church weddings as inspiration for everlasting love.  Mary Chapin-Carpenter has a stunning cover version on the 1995 album “Working Class Hero:  A Tribute to John Lennon.”

“Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen,” Neil Diamond, 1993

In the late ’50s and well into the ’60s, Diamond was one of a whole stable of songwriters who worked for music publishers in the famous Brill Building in New York City, cranking out pop hits for dozens of artists. Some of these tunesmiths, including Neil Sedaka, Carole King and Diamond, went on to become successful performing artists in their own right. In 1993, Diamond chose to pay homage to his friendly rivals from those days by recording and releasing “Up on the Roof: Songs From the Brill Building,” on which he reimagined classics like “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,” “Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” “Save the Last Dance for Me” and Sedaka’s frothy teenage anthem “Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen.” Little Feat’s Bill Payne provided the acoustic piano as Diamond offered a more mature vocal reading for the polished arrangement.

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Three other tunes of note:

“Happy Birthday Sweet Darling,” Kate Taylor, 1978

James Taylor’s little sister had herself a couple of albums out in the ’70s and performed throughout New England college towns, mostly, and in Vineyard clubs.  Her second LP in 1978 reached #49 on the charts, and brother James wrote this whimsical little tune for her to sing, which begins with original verses, then uses parts of “Happy Birthday to You” before concluding with a coda of “You’re a little bit older now, a little bit older…” Not sure why, but the album doesn’t show up on Spotify net her other releases, so it’s not on the playlist, but you can find it on YouTube if you’re interested.

“Happy Birthday Baby!,” Elvis Presley, 1974

This hard-to-find live recording from The King’s catalog is pretty much a speeded-up remake of the old Christmas blues tune, “Merry Christmas Baby,” which has been covered by dozens of artists.  In this one, Elvis manages to name-drop many of his hit song titles (All Shook Up,” “Love Me Tender,” “Burning Love,” “Hound Dog”) into the lyrics as he offers birthday greetings to his gal with lines like “you can have your cake and eat it too if you promise to be good” and “so blow out all them candles and let’s have a good time.” 

“Happy Birthday to You,” 1893/1912

The music for this “song,” allegedly the most recognized musical composition in the English language, was written in 1893 by Patty and Mildred Hill, two kindergarten teachers who were looking for a simple melody children could quickly understand and enjoy.  The original lyrics were “Good Morning to All,” and the song was used to greet youngsters as they arrived for school.  The lyrics “Happy Birthday” emerged in 1912, but authorship is somewhat murky, as a copyright wasn’t issued until 1935, to Preston Orem and Mrs. R.R. Forman. Consequently, there have been numerous copyright infringement lawsuits over its use in film and TV, so it is rarely ever used in its entirety.  Perhaps the most famous public performance of it was Marilyn Monroe’s scorching rendition for President Kennedy in 1962.  The song is also often sung at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings to mark a member’s successful year of sobriety.

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