Page 27 - The NOISE November 2015

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thE tURtlES
White Whale, convinced they had another hit, promoted the hell out of “Outside Chance,” but, in an eerily familiar turn, the record died just as it was gaining momentum. Like “If You Gotta Go,” released two months prior, “Outside Chance,” didn’t even make the charts.
In a panic, White Whale rush released another single, “Making My Mind Up,” a half-hearted return to the upbeat pop of The Turtles’ early hits. At the group’s insistence, “Outside Chance,” was issued as the B-side in an effort to give Warren’s
song another push. It didn’t work. “Making My Mind Up,” again missed the top 100 entirely, giving The Turtles flop number three.
The Turtles’ next effort was a rewrite of “You Baby,” (their last real hit) called “Can I Get To Know You Better.” The B-side was another Zevon song, the delicate “Like the Seasons.” The band was determined to make Warren some goddamn money one way or another. Unfortunately, “Can I Get To Know You Better,” stalled at #89.
As The Turtles entered 1967, their career was in serious trouble. After“YouBaby,”inJanuary1966,theyhadreleased four dogs in a row. True, the last two had been mediocre and
“Grim Reaper,” experimental on purpose, but the failure of “Outside Chance,” struck them as suspicious. An increasingly paranoid Warren Zevon was convinced that the presence
of his name on the records was the cause of The Turtles’ commercial downturn. White Whale began to wonder if their golden boys had already peaked. The Turtles needed a big hit to keep from sinking. Luckily, they had one ready to go.
Gary Bonner and Alan Gordon were members of The Magicians, a popular club band in New England. In 1966 they, like Warren Zevon, were trying to succeed as song peddlers and some of their demos ended up at White Whale. While sifting through tapes in search of anything interesting, The Turtles found a Bonner/Gordon tune called “Happy Together,” which had already been rejected by a dozen bands. The demo had passed through so many hands that the tape was nearly worn through.
Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan heard a sound in “Happy Together,” they couldn’t quite place. The arrangement was ordinary and the voices of Bonner and Gordon were reedy and bland, yet ... something was in there. The group made an unusual request to their label: they wanted to take
“Happy Together,” on the road with them and work out a new arrangement by bashing away at it onstage.
When The Turtles returned in December 1966, they had the track nailed. “Happy Together,” was recorded in January 1967; White Whale released it the following month. To break the curse, the band once again placed “Like the Seasons,” on
the flip. This was the fourth Turtles single in a row to feature a Warren Zevon composition on one side.
“Happy Together,” was the right song at the right time. The first Human Be-In happened in January 1967 and the Summer Of Love was just around the corner. The Turtles’ record wonderfully captured the groovy vibes in the air. They had found the formula: “Happy Together,” blended the feel-good pop of their early singles with a sophisticated arrangement and state of the art production.
The record quickly raced up the charts until, on March 25, 1967, the unthinkable happened. The new Turtles single knocked the new Beatles single “Penny Lane,” out of the #1 slot, where it remained for three weeks. “Happy Together,” was
a hit all over the world and eventually sold millions of copies. For a brief moment, The Turtles were the most popular group in America.
Years later, with hindsight, Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan realized they had thrown away hundreds of thousands of dollars in songwriting royalties by not putting a band composition on the B-side of their biggest hit. But that was OK, because all that money was going to their friend Warren Zevon, who definitely deserved it.
Of course, Warren got screwed. When the big royalty checks failed to materialize after the phenomenal sales of “Happy Together,” he turned to his bosses for an explanation. It was a doozy. Warren was informed that he had been paid a living wage for over a year to write music, and now that music was the property of White Whale. If Warren had been an independent songwriter like Bonner & Gordon, he would be entitled to the standard mechanical royalty rate. But he was a White Whale employee, so all the money went straight to the label, which paid out a tiny fraction to the author and kept the rest. Zevon voiced his opinion of the setup and in late 1967 he
and White Whale parted ways.
Due to the overseas success of “Happy Together,” (and its
follow-up “She’d Rather Be With Me”), The Turtles played their first London shows in May 1967. Upon arrival, they were whisked off to Graham Nash’s pad, where they got extremely stoned and listened to an advance copy of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which blew everyone’s mind. Then they went to The Speakeasy to meet The Beatles.
John Lennon, his tongue sharpened by alcohol and in an antagonistic mood, zeroed in on Turtles guitarist Jim Tucker and began picking him apart bit by bit: his shirt, pants, shoes, hair (“Did you ask the barber for a Beatle cut?”), glasses, teeth, guitar playing, personality ... it was vicious. Tucker, a huge Beatles fan, was devastated. He got into a cab outside the club, went to the airport, caught a plane home and quit The Turtles and the music business.
That same night at The Speakeasy, Rolling Stone Brian Jones approached Howard and asked for his autograph. With Jones was a young black kid named Jimi Hendrix. Hendrix had already set London afire, but was still one month away from his American debut at Monterey Pop. After Jones disappeared with a lady, Hendrix took Kaylan to another club, where they got so loaded on cognac and spliffs that Howard threw up on Jimi’s jacket.
Sgt. Pepper had inaugurated the era of the concept album and The Turtles came up with a good one. The Turtles Present the Battle of the Bands (released in November 1968) is the group’s shining moment on 33 1/3, a fine showcase for their versatility. Each track was purported to be by a different band (all of which were illustrated in the gatefold by The Turtles in costume), with names like The Atomic Enchilada and The US Teens Featuring Raoul. 10 of the 12 tracks were self-composed.
For the LP’s big dumb pop song, The Turtles threw together every stupid rhyme they could think of in an attempt to parody “Happy Together.” At a time when heavy abstract trippy lyrics were in vogue, what could be more uncool than a chorus that went, “Elenore, gee I think you’re swell?” The public missed the irony and drove “Elenore,” up to #6 on the strength of its catchy melody, soaring harmonies, and drummer John Barbata’s unique, explosive performance. The LP’s second
single, a cover of the Byrds demo “You Showed Me,” also hit #6. In early 1969, The Turtles were invited to play at The White House. They were the favorite band of Tricia Nixon, who signed the official invitation herself. The Turtles laughed and declined. How could a bunch of longhaired peaceniks possibly do their thing while staring into the face of Richard
Milhous Nixon? Their management said they were nuts. Refuse an offer from the White House and they could kiss their show business careers goodbye. The group was assured that Tricky Dick was out of the country and that Tricia and her college friends (and the Secret Service, of course) would be their only audience.
On May 10, 1969, The Turtles flew to Washington D.C. for their most prestigious gig yet. They had a blast. They hung out with The Temptations, also on the bill. The Secret Service, after a slight hassle over a ticking metronome in an equipment case, gave them the run of the entire first floor. The Turtles sprinted up and down the hallways, smoked reefer on the White House roof, vetoed a referendum or two, and snorted cocaine off of Abraham Lincoln’s desk.
These were the last of the good times.
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tthenoiisse..uss•• NOISISEaartrsts&&nneewwss ••
To Be ConTinued...
| tony ballz
SnEoPvTeEmMbBeErR 2015 • 237