Celebrating Marilyn McCoo on her 79th birthday. —Ed.
It seems like just yesterday I had hair down to my ass and was rolling in the mud at Woodstock. What a time! The dope was good, the music was far out, and even the brown acid was groovy, once you got past the part where your decomposing grandmother was squatting by your side, her breath reeking of grave dirt and burning sulphur. It was the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, and peace would soon be guiding the stars.
Odd, though, that “Age of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” was the product of a very square Black chorale group that would have been more at home in a Las Vegas nightclub than Woodstock (where they didn’t play) or Harlem’s Cultural Festival that same year (where they did). The vocal group’s repertory of styles—which included R&B, jazz, pop and soul—was labeled “champagne soul,” perhaps because their musical stylings were all bubbles and no kick.
It’s hard to imagine a group less qualified to sum up the era’s Zeitgeist. To the hippies and yippies wearing psychedelic paint on their faces and nothing else, The 5th Dimension—whose best known songs are compiled on 1999’s Master Hits—had zero freak cred. At least you knew they weren’t narcs, because narcs made it their job to fit in. Amongst the Jimis and Joplins of the time, The 5th Dimension stood out like a house cat in a panther cage.
“The Age of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In”—which first appeared in 1967’s risible Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical—is an example par excellence of cultural appropriation. The song took the revolutionary spirit of the time and diluted it, and by so doing offered the non-LSD crowd a reassuring lense through which they could catch a glimpse of a youth phenomenon they found threatening. How much of a menace could America’s young people be if their anthem was a song like this?
Still, there’s no denying “Age of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” is a great song. The astrological balderdash and goofy lines like “No more falsehoods or derisions/Golden living dreams of visions/Mystic crystal revelation” are New Age comedy gold, and the delicious vocal harmonies correspond perfectly to the “harmony and understanding” of the lyrics. And its Star Trek-school opening was a perfect run-up to Neil Armstrong’s setting foot on the moon. And it’s second half, “Let the Sunshine In,” is a gospel-inspired triumph—it’s almost enough to make you throw your hands in the air and shout “Save me, Jesus!”
The compilation’s remaining songs are aural sedatives for seventies’ housewives in need of soothing before the kids got home from school and started WWIII. I love the irony of their cover of Laura Nyro’s “Stoned Soul Picnic,” because The 5th Dimension don’t sound stoned and the song has no soul. They do a stellar job of interpreting The Mamas and the Papas’ “Go Where You Wanna Go”—the opening bass is shockingly muscular, the strings do what strings are supposed to do, and the vocal harmonies are fabulous, bringing a joyous sheen to the lovely melody.
Then there’s the breezy “Up, Up and Away,” with its super-smooth vocals, jaunty horns, soaring strings, and jingle-jangle tambourine. Is that “beautiful balloon” a drug reference? Is this “Puff the Magic Dragon” all over again? Or an anti-drug cautionary tale in disguise? That “we can fly” sounds eerily like the “I can fly!” of an LSD-deluded girl standing on the edge of a 13th story roof, which is still a meme and still as hilarious.
The 5th Dimension perform three more Nyro covers on Master Hits. The fast-paced “Sweet Blindness” is undercut by the disconnect between band and message—there’s no way these straights have “gin mill spirit.” And the word “ain’t” sounds downright wrong coming out of their mouths. Their take on “Wedding Bell Blues” has the same sweeping Burt Bacharach vibe as “Up, Up and Away.” But it’s no blues; The 5th Dimension don’t sound like the broad left at the altar, they sound like the groom happy to have gotten away. The gospel soul number “Save the Country” lacks that tent revival fervor; when they sing “I got fury in my soul/Fury’s gonna take me to the glory goal” they sound anything but furious—they don’t even sound mildly vexed.
Their cover of Neil Sedaka’s “Puppet Man” is hard rock in comparison to the rest of the songs on the compilation; seems they finally gave the Wrecking Crew, who played on so many classic tunes by so many famous artists, leeway to kick out the jams, mildly of course. It’s not up to the standards of Sedaka’s original, mind you—his has more swing and the horns are tougher, and there’s a trumpet in there that will blow your mind. The Ashford & Simpson composition “California Soul” goes a long way towards explaining that “champagne soul” label—it’s pleasant enough, but has about as much soul as a cucumber. If it’s the real thing you’re looking for, check out Marlena Shaw’s version–it’s downright gritty in comparison.
The 5th Dimension’s cover of Keely Smth’s “One Less Bell to Answer” isn’t as defanged as many of the songs on Master Hits, if only because Smith’s original covers the same stylistic (as in safe bordering on vapid) ground. “(Last Night) I Didn’t Get to Sleep at All” is total Brill Building, catchy and easy on the ears, and The 5th Dimension put more passion into the song than usual.
The Age of Aquarius came and went as fast as a john in a whore house, but in “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” we have a souvenir that—no matter how tame by the standards of the rock music of its time—captures the innocence and naivete of the Peace and Love Tribe. Your true freaks may have mocked it, but it brought many as close as they’d ever get to a mystic crystal revelation.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B-
