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Please, withdraw your torches and pitchforks and hear us out. We all know that the 1960s \u2014 especially the late ’60s \u2014 produced superb music from the likes of legendary bands like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Doors, etc. It also paved the way for the ’70s classic rock heyday and\u00a0songs that we’ll be blasting on repeat ’til the end of time<\/a>. But was all ’60s rock fantastic, even if it came from legendary bands? It’d be dishonest to say “yes,”\u00a0because no one can bat a thousand song after song, album after album. Along with its magnificent masterworks, the ’60s also produced some painfully overrated songs.<\/p>\n Firstly, we know it’s hard to divorce sentiment for the past from more objective evaluations of musical quality. But the latter is our goal here. We don’t want to assault sacred cows for no reason, but learn how to listen better.\u00a0Most highly rated ’60s rock songs have rightfully stood the test of time. We’re not going to go after a track like the Beatles’ “Come Together,” no matter how fashionable a choice, nor an oddball, novelty song like “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” simply because it’s an easy target. But in order for a song to be “overrated,” it’s got to be generally well-regarded. On that note, we don’t consider our picks to be bad songs, just considered better than they are. On a whole, they generally have some inherently underdeveloped or irritating quality, compositionally, lyrically, or production-wise.<\/p>\n On that note, we’re choosing one of the Velvet Underground’s most listened-to songs, “Sunday Morning,” “Sweet Thing” from Van Morrison’s 1968 sophomore album, and yes, selections from the Doors, the Beatles, and the Moody Blues.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n Sunday Morning \u2014 The Velvet Underground & Nico<\/p>\n
We’re going to start at the beginning with this one, i.e., the first song off the Velvet Underground’s first record label-produced studio album: “Sunday Morning” from their 1967 self-titled debut, better known as “the banana album.” The banana on the album’s cover comes via artist Andy Warhol, whose name also comprises the biggest set of words on the cover. Yes, that’s Andy Warhol, the Campbell’s Soup can guy<\/a>. Warhol also supplied German singer Nico\u00a0for the album, which is why the album is technically credited to “The Velvet Underground & Nico.\u00a0In fact, the whole album was more of a Warhol-guided art project than anything else. What does this all mean? It means that if you chuck your rose-tinted glasses aside, you’ll hear that “Sunday Morning” sounds self-absorbed, self-important, and cynically architected.<\/p>\n “Sunday Morning”\u00a0isn’t dreamy in the way that the Beatles’ “Something” from 1969’s “Abbey Road” is dreamy. It’s hamfistedly, fakely dreamy. It’s got a thin, irritating lead vocal line that wavers on flat, some chimey notes that belong to a celesta (a novel, but unnecessary compositional choice), and just repeats its verse-chorus structure twice before a tiny instrumental break, another chorus, and a brief outro that repeats the words\u00a0“Sunday Morning.” Its melodic phrases aren’t long or complex enough to not sound repetitious, especially played back to back and given the samey tone and minimal dynamics of the whole piece.\u00a0<\/p>\n So does\u00a0“Sunday Morning”\u00a0sound musically shallow and emotionally bereft because it came from the ego of Andy Warhol?\u00a0We can’t say for sure, but it does make sense. No matter what, it’s overrated.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n Sweet Thing \u2014 Van Morrison<\/p>\n
The biography on the official Van Morrison website<\/a> says that the Irish musician’s\u00a01968\u00a0album “Astral Weeks” was, “Recorded over 3 days with legendary jazz musicians … combining street poetry, jazz improvisation, Celtic invocation and Afro Celtic Blues wailing.”\u00a0That sounds pretty cool, right? Bearing this description in mind, go ahead and listen to the album’s third track, “Sweet Thing.” Sadly, you’ll hear none of that coolness. Or as Van Morrison might have phrased it in “Sweet Thing,” “And I shall none of that coolness there with my ears hear.”<\/p>\n In a nutshell, “Sweet Thing” features shucky, super-repetitive, acoustic strumming, bass that sounds like the bassist is trying to figure out his part mid-song, vocals that sound reminiscent of Cartman from “South Park,” and eventual, limited-use string and flute parts that don’t add anything to the track.\u00a0The lyrics also drip with try-hard profundity and sophomoric schmaltz, like: “And I will drink the clear clean water for to quench my thirst,” “And I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry,” and, “And I will walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain.” This sounds like a Renaissance Fair cosplayer serving “thy mead, my lord” at a poor imitation of a medieval tavern.<\/p>\n This is all a shame, too, because with a more grounded lyrical approach and tighter musical arrangement, “Sweet Thing” could be far less stochastic, far less cluttered in the mix, and far more intentional in its writing. But remember that “recorded over 3 days” was supposed to be complimentary of the album’s spontaneous genius or something?\u00a0We don’t think so.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n Touch Me \u2014 The Doors<\/p>\n
Now we come to a strange song from a band not exactly known for not making strange songs: “Touch Me” by the Doors off 1969’s “The Soft Parade.” “Touch Me” is a\u00a0prime example of talented musicians making interesting, creative choices that don’t always come together in the end, especially when viewed without the coloration of hindsight and the Doors’ late-60s fame.<\/p>\n Basically, it’s like this: Each individual part in “Touch Me” sounds fantastic (except for Jim Morrison’s vocals, which we’ll get to \u2014 pitchforks away, please). The horns and their harmonies during the verse, the organ runs, the sax solo, the drum change-ups: All of these are great \u2014 individually. But when combined, “Touch Me” doesn’t really cohere, especially the jump to the E-flat during the verse. The song sounds like a jumbled carnival tune with Vegas vocals, full of choices that are inventive, sure, but which come across as jarring and baseless. Also, no matter that Morrison was a one-of-a-kind singer that rightfully holds his place in rock’s vocal pantheon, his vocal rhythm and tone throughout “Touch Me” is grating.<\/p>\n
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