Published on Aug 9, 1999
Being a child of the ’70s, one of my more guilty pleasures is
listening to some of the music that I heard on stations like WLS-AM
when I was just a child. No, I’m not pulling out leisure suits from
my closet and putting on disco records; my wife has told me that
would be grounds for an instant divorce. Instead, I like hearing
songs that just seem to take me back to when I was about four or
five, with the only cares I had including where I had left my teddy
bear. (Oh, wait, that reminds me…)
So when I’m given the opportunity to review an album like the
soundtrack for the movie
Dick, chances are I’ll trip over the ottoman to get my
greasy hands around it. Granted, such an album can provide some bad
memories as well, such as not being able to get certain songs out
of my head (more on that later), but this particular collection has
joy that you won’t find on any of those CDs you’ll see peddled on
late-night TV.
First, the traditional disclaimer: No, I haven’t seen the movie
yet. At the time I’m writing this review, the movie had just
opened. But to be honest, I don’t think one needs to see the movie
to place where certain songs fit with the action; this isn’t like a
Disney movie. However, it’s easy to enjoy this disc for what it is
– a wonderful collection of music from the first half of the decade
– without knowing what’s happening in the movie.
Only one new song is included on
Dick – Sixpence None The Richer’s cover of Abba’s “Dancing
Queen”. Leigh Nash’s vocals seem to fit the music perfectly, and
this band (who are still riding high thanks to their hit “Kiss Me”)
is an unlikely, but perfect, choice to tackle one of the songs that
defined the decade. Listen to this one once, and you’ll be
surprised how close to the bone this cover is to the original.
This disc contains a lot of music that you might not recognize
by name, but the instant you hear the song, you’ll say, “Aah,
that’s what that song is!” I would have been hard-pressed to
describe songs like George McCrae’s “Rock Your Baby” or Love
Unlimited Orchestra’s “Love’s Theme” prior to listening to
Dick; once I heard the songs, the floodgates opened, and a
smile crossed my face. (“Love’s Theme” is still a great song.) And
while the technology is far outdated, there’s still something
magical about hearing the Moog synthesizer on Hot Butter’s
“Popcorn”. (Somewhere in the Pierce Memorial Archives, there’s a
whole album from Hot Butter that I occasionally put on to scare the
cat.)
From the Jackson 5 (“ABC”) to Grand Funk Railroad (“The
Loco-Motion”), from Jean Knight (“Mr. Big Stuff” – a song recently
brought back to the limelight thanks to Burger King) to Elton John
(“Crocodile Rock” – sorry, not one of my all-time favorites by
him),
Dick almost acts as a soundtrack for the early part of the
’70s, not just a comedy about the fall of former President Richard
Nixon. If you survived this decade intact, chances are this disc
will be a major trip down memory lane.
All that said, there are one or two miscues on this one – and
I’ll freely admit they’re all matters of personal taste. I do
wonder why Harry Nilsson’s “Coconut” was chosen; this is a quirky
little tune that you really have to be in the mood to hear. This
time around, I happened to think it was okay; the next time I
listen to this disc, I might be diving for the “forward” button on
the CD player. And I hope I never have to hear Blue Swede’s version
of “Hooked On A Feeling” (damn you,
Ally McBeal) again in my lifetime. It’s bad enough we have
B.J. Thomas’s version still circling this planet, even worse that
ol’ “Ooga-Chugga” is still a cult hit.
When you’re in the mood for something severely retro,
Dick is an excellent choice to slap into the CD player and
groove out to. With one or two exceptions, this disc is proof that
the ’70s as a whole didn’t suck nearly as bad as we’ve been
told.