THE 5TH DIMENSION: STONED SOUL PICNIC (1968)
1) Sweet Blindness; 2) It'll
Never Be The Same Again; 3) The Sailboat Song; 4) It's A Great Life; 5) Stoned
Soul Picnic; 6) California Soul; 7) Lovin' Stew; 8) Broken Wing Bird; 9) Good
News; 10) Bobbie's Blues; 11) The Eleventh Song (What A Groovy Day!).
The worst thing that could happen to the 5th
Dimension was Jimmy Webb beginning to pay more attention to his own career —
or, for the time being, to the career of Richard Harris, whom he'd enriched
with ʽMacArthur Parkʼ in early 1968, as well as all the other songs and
production work on his first album, at the expense of his former pets. The only
Webb composition on the band's third album is roughly tacked on at the end under
the title of ʽThe Eleventh Songʼ (because, you know, nice sunshine pop albums
are supposed to contain even numbers of songs, but we did need a Jimmy Webb seal of approval, if only at the very last
moment), and it is an obvious quickie throwaway — "what a groovy day it
turned out to be, doo-doo-doo" is its only line, and coming off a
generally disappointing record, it has a strong whiff of self-parody, which is
pretty bad for a band that often already comes across as parodic in its very
nature.
The 5th Dimension are completely in the hands
of Bones Howe now, the by-default sunshine pop producer of the era, already
noted for his work with The Association and now working his tepid magic on
these guys — but he is nowhere near as adventurous as Webb, so out go the
sitars, for instance, and all that pseudo-Eastern crap, and in goes even more
brass and strings than there used to be. Theoretically, this is no big deal:
it's not like Webb was particularly innovative or subtle in his use of sitar,
and it's not as if Howe's idiom for the band results in completely different
textures and atmospheres. What is worse, however, is the sore lack of good
songwriting: with Webb largely out of the picture, Howe and the other industry
people are forced to fall back on even more cuddly and safe brands of corporate
songwriting.
Worst of the bunch is a guy called Jeffrey
Comanor, contributing pompous Neil Diamond-ish crap (ʽIt'll Never Be The Same
Againʼ) and hookless folksy mush that tries to mask melodic paucity with lush
flute-and-chime panoramas (ʽThe Sailboat Songʼ); he is equally bad at upbeat
pop-rock (ʽLovin' Stewʼ, which has nothing to its name except for the strong
tempo) and dream balladry (ʽBobbie's Bluesʼ — pretty male-female vocal harmony
arrangement, but hardly ever elevated above the level of background muzak). Bob
Alcivar's and Denny McReynolds' contributions (ʽBroken Wing Birdʼ and ʽIt's A
Great Lifeʼ) are equally boring.
The saving grace of the album are two songs by
the still relatively little-known Laura Nyro — ʽSweet Blindnessʼ and the title
track, both of which had already managed to come out on Laura's own Eli And The Thirteenth Confession by
the time The 5th Dimension got around to releasing their interpretations. These
should probably be found worthy even by major fans of Laura: ʽSweet Blindnessʼ
capitalizes even deeper on the contrasts between the slow and fast parts of the
song than Laura's original, and the vocal duo of Florence and Marilyn add extra
(and quite welcome) muscle to the joyful Motown-ish punch of the original,
bringing it closer in style to something like Martha & The Vandellas.
Likewise, they add extra funkiness to ʽStoned Soul Picnicʼ while managing to
preserve its fussy spirit, a mix of psychedelia and gospel that makes the song
equally interesting to fans of the Lord and lovers of the Grass. The ridiculous
thing about it is that somehow, Laura Nyro material here goes interspersed
with Jeff Comanor material — imagine some honest-to-good interpreter covering a
mix of Beatles and Monkees songs (and I like the Monkees, but that would be
irrelevant in this case).
The third and last single from the record was
ʽCalifornia Soulʼ by Ashford & Simpson, a song that is definitely better
than any of the Comanor stuff, but I still do not like it too much: it's another tune that is clearly influenced
by ʽCalifornia Dreamingʼ way too seriously, and didn't we already have
ʽCalifornia My Way?ʼ Here, it's like half of the vocal lines were lifted
directly off the Mamas & Papas masterpiece — rather pitiful.
All in all, a major disappointment, although I
still won't turn the album down explicitly because of the excellent Nyro covers
and the fact that the vocal performances and arrangements are still complex and
at least «beautiful» on a perfunctory level. Nevertheless, you're much better
off just picking out the individual highlights here, due to the total lack of
consistency.
I agree, the Nyro songs outclass everything else. They really capture that stoned feeling for sure. The harmonies on Picnic are just amazing. Really takes you on a trip. Bones Howe was Cher's producer, yes? Explains a lot. They sound like Spanky & Our Gang at times.
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