TWO-FER TUESDAY: Dan Fogelberg

Good evening, Dialophiles! 

When trying to select which track from my musical collection to spotlight next, I kept returning to one specific artist, but couldn’t decide which of two tracks should get the nod. This is exactly the kind of dilemma that calls out for a "Two-Fer Tuesday". So tonight, the Dial presents for your enlightenment, a duo of selections from Mr. Dan Fogelberg.

Beginning in 1974, Fogelberg released a series of critically acclaimed LPs, which were equally influenced by folk, rock, jazz, and classical. His mellow sounds and poetic lyrics placed many hits on the hot 100 and AC charts, such as the wedding toast classic “Longer”, the melancholy holiday tale “Same Old Lang Syne”, and the tribute to his father Lawrence, who had indeed been a bandleader and music teacher, “Leader of the Band”.

The Dial’s first selection tonight from Dan’s discography is 1982’s “Missing You”. First released on his 1982 Greatest Hits LP, the single reached #23 pop, #6 AC (Adult Contemporary), and tells the simple story of a traveling man dearly missing his lady love back at home. 

I first heard “Missing You” when spending a weekend at my grandparents’, on their transistor radio that I set by my pillow so I could listen to top 40 as I drifted off to sleep. The track, especially Dan's guitar solo, impressed me with its “rockier” edge when compared to his softer, easy listening hits, and it seemed to echo a Hall & Oates, Chicago, or Kenny Loggins styled vibe.  To this day, when I hear its opening notes, I’m back in my grandparents’ guest room, complete with old roll top desk against the west wall, and the stars of the night sky visible out the window on the opposite side. A very comforting cosmic visual to accompany Fogelberg’s forgotten former hit. 

“Hard days I’m traveling along for too long… ooh-ooh I’m missing you I’m always somewhere that I never belong. Ooo-ooh I’m missing you”

Our second selection from Dan’s resume is an extract from 1990’s The Wild Places LP, “Rhythm of the Rain”. A mid-tempo jazz-influenced reading of the 1963 #3 pop hit by The Cascades, their version being a teenage breakup lament using the famous metaphor of rain for tears. Through Dan’s capable musicianship, this ‘60s classic is recast as a mature and heartfelt romantic plea. 

“Rhythm” peaked high on the AC charts at #3, but never crossed over on the pop side… a shame, but not surprising in a year largely dominated by rap and energetic dance acts. Personally, I became familiar with “Rhythm” through playing The Wild Places album in the Square Circle record store I worked at in high school, and I always looked forward to his interpretation of this classic song. Be sure to pay special attention to the final 30 seconds, which interpolates the first verses to the Beatles’ “Rain”. 

“Listen to the rhythm of the failing rain… telling me just what a fool I’ve been. I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain, and let me be alone again.”

Dan sadly left us on 12/16/07 after a long bout with cancer.  I was quite moved by the news, as I always appreciated his melodies and lyrical prowess, and his music was always present in some way or another as I was growing up.

Much respect to you, Dan, and much thanks for enriching our lives (and mine in particular) with your songs. The Radio Dial salutes you, kind sir.

"Seven Days" by Sting

Hey Dialophiles!

I'm feeling rather mellow tonight, which correlates perfectly with the Dial's latest serving, a track from Gordon “Sting” Sumner’s 1993 pop masterpiece “Ten Summoner’s Tales”… the amusing and upbeat “Seven Days”.

A lyrically rich and clever song, in which Sting’s lady love is being woo’d by a burly gentlemen described as six feet ten and resembling a Neanderthal. It seems that the lady had grown weary of the pacifistic ways of Sting’s character, so she wrote him an ultimatum telling him to fight for her love in seven days, or release her to follow her new suitor.

I’m particularly fond of Sting’s realization that he and his challenger will not be locking wits for her love... “IQ is no problem here… we won’t be playing Scrabble for her hand I fear… I need that beer”. 

The tune also possesses a truly catchy chorus that ticks down the days Sting has remaining in which to make his move, concluding with “Sunday’d be too late”, the seventh day mentioned in the note.

We never learn the results of the confrontation, as the song ends with Sting stating he “can’t run away” because he loves her so. I like to think that he found his courage and bested his challenger, a true David and Goliath scenario to be sure, even if no tile-based board games were involved. Of course, the other school of thought is that perhaps he’d be better off without the girl…

And as a shout out to Sting’s earlier group, the final thirty seconds of Seven Days features an interpolation of The Police’s 1981 hit “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic”…  “Do I have to tell a story… of a thousand rainy days since we first met…” a snippet Sting also incorporated into The Police’s “O My God” from Synchronicity.

So sit back, relax, and enjoy this jazz-styled tale of a man torn between fighting for the woman he loves, and protecting his own neck. We here at the Dial like to think he made the right decision.

“Monday, I could wait till Tuesday, if I make up my mind… Wednesday would be fine, Thursday's on my mind, Friday'd give me time, Saturday could wait… But Sunday'd be too late.”

"I Didn't Mean To Turn You On" by Cherrelle

Happy Sunday, Dialophiles!

In order to start this October week in a delightful way, the Radio Dial features the lesser-heard, now generally obscure, original version of a song that nearly topped the charts in 1986 in a different incarnation. 

1984 saw the release of R&B chanteuse Cherrelle’s debut LP “Fragile”, which contained one of the earliest compositions from iconic songwriting team Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, “I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On”.

Telling the tale of a woman’s apology and rebuttal to a man’s unwanted and awkward advances, “I Didn’t Mean To…” featured a black & white music video that acts as both a tribute to, and spoof of, King Kong. The single reached US #8 on the hot R&B singles chart, but failed to make a major impression on the hot 100, settling only for #79. Nevertheless, I recall seeing this video twice on NBC’s “Friday Night Videos”, and though it’s amusingly low budget, the image of King Kong reaching into Cherrelle’s apartment was one that stuck with me for years.

As you watch the video, note the animated bouncing jungle plants (straight from cartoons of the ‘30s!), Cherrelle’s exposed shoulder (ahhh, ‘80s fashions!), and Kong’s breakdancing routine on the roof of what has to be a very reinforced apartment building!

Of course, by now, you should recall that “I Didn’t Mean To…” reappeared on the airwaves two years later, in a rocked-up version by Englishman Robert Palmer as a follow up to his career defining smash “Addicted To Love”. Palmer’s version hit #2 in ‘86, far eclipsing the success of Cherrelle’s original. As great as Robert’s rendition is, I always felt the lyrics to be more believable when sung by a woman.

When last heard from, Cherrelle brought us 1999’s “The Right Time”, featuring her cover of Patti Austin and James Ingram’s ’82 quiet storm ballad “Baby Come To Me”.

So give it a spin, and allow Cherrelle’s soulful voice and uptempo beat to work their charms on you… just remember… for goodness sake, she’s not trying to turn you on. 

“You read… me wrong.  I wasn’t trying to lead you on…

I want a friend… I didn’t mean to turn you on.”