Who Did It Better? Baby It's You

Who Did It Better? 

Baby It's You

This week, we're taking a look at a song suggested by our beloved Anne Marie of Philly; two competing versions and the version that topped them both on the charts! 

Baby It's You is a song written by Burt Bacharach, Luther Dixon, and Mack David. Dixon worked closely with the Shirelles, while Bacharach would go on to form one of the all-time great songwriting partnerships with Mack David's brother, Hal, writing numerous hits for Dionne Warwick. One notable feature of this song is its minor-to-major key chord changes on the verses, a technique Bacharach made a fortune playing with throughout the 1960's and early 70's.

Recorded by the Shirelles and the Beatles, it was a hit for both. However, the highest-charting version of the song belongs to someone else; a band named Smith, featuring blonde siren, Gayle McCormick. They took it all the way to the #5 spot on the US charts in 1969. 

 Luther Dixon actually handled production for the Shirelles' version. When released as a single in 1961, it became an instant hit, reaching #3 on the R&B chart and #8 on Billboard's Hot 100. It later appeared on the album, Baby It's You, which also featured the group's next smash hit, Soldier Boy.

The Beatles had performed Baby It's You as part of their stage act for years, finally recording it on February 11, 1963 for their first album, Please Please Me. Their American label, Vee-Jay Records, would include it on their release, Introducing... The Beatles. The song was recorded in just three takes with John Lennon taking the lead vocal. While The Beatles' version differs from the Shirelles' version by repeating the second verse instead of the first, the vocal arrangements are lifted directly from the girls' 1961 original. Interestingly, The Beatle's studio version was never issued as a single.

That changed in 1994, when a live version, performed by the Beatles, would be released on Live at the BBC. This version adheres even closer to the Shirelles' version than the studio recording. It was issued as a CD single and a vinyl single (actually an EP) in 1995 in both the UK and the US - a Beatles' first in nearly a decade. The single/EP reached #7 in the UK and #67, state side on Billboard 's Hot 100.

Smith was little more than a bluesy covers band, toiling away in hotel bars, nightclubs, and roadhouses. They'd issued a previous single, with one of the guys in the group on vocals and it went nowhere. Then they added a bit of visual appeal in the form of Gayle McCormick.

McCormick had spent years carving out a solo career singing the songs of Tina Turner and Etta James. 

The group caught a big break when they were 'discovered' by Del Shannon, who got them signed to ABC-Dunhill Records.  

 

Baby It's You was released as a single on Dunhill Records in 1969. It would also appear on their debut album, A Group Called Smith. Their take on the song is a definite departure from that of The Shirelles and The Beatles and it paid off big time. The only hit the group ever managed snagged the #5 spot on the Billboard Hot 100.  

Well, there's the whole story.

Now, on to the competition.

The Song: Baby It's You

The Competition: The Shirelles vs. The Beatles vs. Smith

Baby It's You - The Shirelles

 

Baby It's You - The Beatles

Baby It's You - Smith

The Shirelles

Big wall of sound beats. It was the times, baby. Hollow, but it's the biggest and the best they could capture. Weird that the male voice takes the pole position with the back-up vocals. Ah, those lead vocals (Shirley Owens). So sly and quirky. So knowing. Her tone is rich and throaty, a nice crackle in her voice. It's deceptive because you know she's coming from a place of strength. And that phrasing. I love the way she clips words (...any old way). This is such a down track. And her performance is rather coy until she hits the 1:30 mark with those shouted "I don't want nobody..."

Oh, dear. That weird keyboard comes out of nowhere and it is not pretty. And what exactly does she sing when she reenters? Sort of a whoa ho ho-o-o? But that is odd stuff. She sure knows herself, though; one sure vocalist. Man, that is some confident phrasing, holding back the beat like that. And this mix; such a great showcase. With her vocals popping over the top like that every once in awhile. The backing vocals simply lulling the listener. Adore. Weird that they had that dude's voice in the beginning and nowhere else. Man, I love this song. 

The Beatles

Huh. Jangly I expected. The harmonies aren't as interesting or full as I'd hoped. And, after listening to all the nuance The Shirelles brought to the table, Lennon's interp feels rather rushed and flat-footed. He's downright flat in places and his singing is not very musical. I do like it when he goes into his head voice for the oh-oh's. I do not like it when he starts shouting in the chorus. No, no. Given the depth Shirley Owens brings to her reading, this is nothing but white boy whining. 

Huh. I expected more from them. I like the jangly guitars. The feel is fine, as is the mix. Perhaps Lennon sang this song one time too many. This lacks depth. It's tossed off and not even remotely introspective. 

Smith

What a difference eight years makes! That rhythm track. This, by the way, is an arrangement created by Del Shannon (Runaway, Sea Of Love, Little Town Flirt). Wow. This is a completely different song. The Hammond organ? Rudimentary for any track laid down during this time period. I love her vocals and the mix. Very sensuous. I see why this was a hit. Hmmm... but then the chorus. 

She loses me. She pushes too hard too fast and it comes off a bit shrill. There's still a nice hood on her overall sound, but the shouting doesn't work for me. I like the subtlety of the horn section. Very restrained. The verses remind me of what Linda Ronstadt would do with certain songs as her solo career finally started taking off. McCormick always goes screechy on the chorus. Bummer. I know everybody wanted to ape Janis Joplin during this time period, so I get that. But shouting is not McCormick's strong suit. Her interp on the verses, slight, is breathtaking. 

Okay... this instrumental break sounds like so much 1970's soundtrack fare, it's almost cliché. It's the crazy build up, bluesy, but a tad psychedelic. And by that third chorus? Know what? I like it. I like her vocals there. Yes, over the top with the scream, but after that build up, that now feels way more appropriate. Hmmm. A tad shrill on the play out, though. I like the horns. I like the mix. This is a lot of fun.

The Verdict

The Shirelles. 

Makes me want to run out and buy a bunch of their music.

Owen's lead vocals are so nuanced, so intricate... I have no idea how you would duplicate all that as a vocalist. She is just amazing. Her phrasing is one for the ages. And such a full-bodied, lived-in sound. I believe her. Hers is the winning story, here. She tells it the best. 

I love the feel of Smith's version. That is an incredible arrangement, with the horns and a great mix. Spooky. McCormick has an amazing gift... but aping Janis Joplin? Not it. Those verses though? Absolutely seductive. 

The Beatles? Huh. Go figure. They don't. Not when it comes this contest. But then it was for their first album. Apparently they still had a lot to learn. Well, everything they touched was not perfect, but any means. 

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Okay, that's my take on things. Your turn. Leave your thoughts in the comments section. I love to hear from you. 

Thank you for reading. And thank you, Anne Marie, for the suggestion. 

If anyone else has something they would like us to take a look at, leave it in the comments section. This one? It has certainly been a game changer as far as the criteria for this series. So... fire away. 

Disposable Music

There was a time in my life when a song could rule my every waking moment. Music infused my life – each happenstance a musical cue – it was a soundtrack complete with montages, chases, tender moments of realization, and, above all else, the stirrings of love (or lust). The music meant something and the lyrics were potent and important.

This was during a time when the concept of ‘selling-out’ was something no authentic artist would ever consider. The idea of commercializing a song they wrote – had given birth to - was tantamount to the desecration of the holy. True inspiration and revolutionary innovation were made of the mind, blood, body and spirit – not technology. The qualities that made a song resonate across the airwaves for generations were human ones – very human.

But no more.

Now everything is technical. Everything is commercial. Everything is disposable. And, thanks to the practice of sampling – everything old is new again – or so they would like us to believe – but it’s not.

We live in an age of disposable music. Music created in such sheer volume that one song barely has time to register on the cultural horizon before being replaced by something just as marginal, just as meaningless. Music isn’t ‘catchy’ anymore, it’s frequently merely irritating. Yes, it gets under your skin, like ringworm.

When was the integrity of music replaced by commercialization?

It can be traced back to the 70’s. Disco was the first blow to the empire. Not that there weren’t disco songs with integrity – there were tons of R&B-driven, funky grooves to be sure, but at one point the proliferation of disco albums far exceeded the appetites of its audience. I remember seeing discs dedicated to the idea of ‘the disco opera’ incorporating themes like ‘Dracula’ and featuring song titles like ‘Suck, Baby, Suck’. Kitschy now. Anathema then.

The subsequent backlash was huge. Integrity reared its ugly head in the form of a couple of enterprising radio DJ’s who organized the first ‘Disco Sucks’ demonstration whereby a pile of donated disco albums were run over with a steam roller during the halftime of a local baseball game. It was a shot heard round the world. Disco was dead. Integrity was back.

But it didn’t die. It simply changed its name to ‘Dance Music’. And, as with disco, while there is still the occasional undeniable gem (Suzanne Palmer’s ‘Home’ for example), so much of this genre holds about as much cultural significance as Paris Hilton.

The next step in this rampant disregard for the value of music came, not from the artists, but from corporations. During the 80’s we saw the rise of the corporation as svengali, wielding their financial might as a means of controlling artistic expression. Music became product – success a matter of the financial, not the critical.

Clive Davis, once a talent maverick for Columbia records, would now ask that many of the established female vocalists he signed to the Arista label be remolded in order to maximize, not artistry, but selling power. This frequently meant that these women had to turn their backs on their considerable writing talents (Melissa Manchester, Jennifer Warnes) or previous wealth of work (Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick) and submit to the whims and desires of the powers that be in the corporate office in order to obtain financial success. Those that failed to comply and/or flourish were dropped quickly – this being true of men and groups as well. It was - play by our rules or we won’t promote your music. Discord was frequent. So were label changes.

There were exceptions to these rules – chiefly brought about by numerous independent labels – where innovation still ruled the day. Unfortunately these lights of hope were frequently short-lived or extinguished. They either perished due to poor business practices (lack of financing, lack of distribution) or were gobbled up by the major labels in order for the major to glean the artistic glow of the minor. This made way for the age of acquisitions – when even former major players like EMI, Mercury, and Arista would be swallowed whole by conglomerates with faceless names like Universal, Sony, Polygram, and BMG.

But business practices alone would not account for the lack of integrity popular music would succumb to.

The promotion of style over substance created a generation – an MTV generation. Visuals and pyrotechnics substituted for artistry. The gift-wrap became more important than the actual gift.

Technology would also play a part – computers would make it much more affordable and easier to recreate sounds, splice sounds, manipulate sounds. Manipulation of vocal tone, quality and pitch has become an accepted practice. Indeed, now anyone can ‘do it’.

Encouraged by accountants and corporate conglomerated labels – artistry has fallen by the wayside. The concept of ‘selling-out’ is no longer considered such a bad thing. The Beatles catalog, now in the hands of Michael Jackson and those to whom he owes a lot of money, has been licensed to sell cars on television and a ‘Cirque Due So Lame’ touring phenom. Perhaps integrity died on a sidewalk in New York – or perhaps John Lennon would be just like everyone else and go for the gold that buys future security.

The Rolling Stones have begun licensing their music for use in movies and commercials. These are the same artists who once claimed they would rather be dead than be rocking at the age of 40. Hey, Mick? What time is it?

I watch television. I pay close attention to the commercials. If music videos were the great indicators of our cultural mindset in the 1980’s – then commercials are their 2006 equivalent. Goldfrapp is gaining considerable market recognition, thanks to their presence selling some new electronic all-in-one device and promoting the new season of FX’s popular (and admittedly shallow) Nip and Tuck series. Good for them. IPod commercials have broken a number of new acts and created life for songs that otherwise might have fallen through the cracks – sometimes I’m grateful, more often, not.

Yes, way back when… in the sixties – when many a rocker or songwriter mistrusted the establishment and its apparent desire for the commercialization of popular music – these misgivings were much more than mere poses. But alas, everything they once feared has come to pass. Music is now disposable. Little more than background noise to sell product. (For historical reference, please check out the original cover for The Who’s “The Who Sell Out” album). Little more than ring tones. Little more than a vehicle for promotion.

Ahhh, and I remember when we thought elevator music was the ultimate horror when it came to the devaluing of music.

Now where’s that steam roller?