Associative Memory Dept. - Just The Right Sound

Generally, I search thru th' crawlspace, candle in what's left of my teeth, for something that maybe one of th' Four Or Five Guys© ain't heard, or at least for a while. From the backroads by the rivers of my memory, ever gentle on my mind. Generally. Right now, I feel like typing about The Six Or Seven Guys©, because every time they come up on shuffle something catches in this old man's heart - *snurfle*! - and I stop what I'm doing (risky while driving), and ... listen.

The Association escaped hip credibility entirely, which took some effort on their part, because they graduated summa cum laude from Rock Music U., majoring in Bitter End folk, chart-topping pop, psychedelia and country rock. Their imperial years ended with the elegiac swansong of Waterbeds In Trinidad [FoamFeatured© antecedently here - Ed.], leaving not a careless album or worthless song behind them. It had to be their rejection of the Fillmore route for the primetime TV, the Vegas glitter, the poisonous taint of show business. It did them no harm commercially, and behind the scenes they threw themselves into the rock n' roll lifestyle as enthusiastically, as stupidly, as anyone. But nobody who'd actually left home bought an Association album.

The albums, and the singles, have lasted better than many contemporary recordings by more authentic acts. Their associative talents and honed professionalism produced music built to last. And if they couldn't jam to save their lives, they could at least sing a lyric worthy of Robert Hunter:

An old day is coming once again
Young woman leaves the beast
Of never ending sadness
The day grows sleepy and it's
Night

He the barefoot boy
In the earth-green waving fields
Leaves for the city, the stars
Awake and come to the crowd for
The Night

And the orange open glow
And sunset of goodbye is singing
Through woman there's a home
In the heart of man right now
Barefoot gentleman there's a
Woman's hand under the moon
'Neath the moon an ever new light

He the barefoot boy
In the black blindfold of death
Led by a woman within his heart
Finds the city of dark's
Promised land

Barefoot Gentleman, from the sublime Birthday, '68.

Just The Right Sound is the perfect compilation, a map of Main Street and the backroads that you can wander through, preferably barefoot. May that saturated 'sixties sunshine light the hollows of your old heart. It's not over.