Incredible Bossa Nova inspired Tropicalia duet with Caetano Veloso. Drenched in strings & flute, everything follows the enthusiastic guitar!

It's hard not to smile when you hear this lovely, rousing late 60s number. Roger Nichols is the composer (along with Paul Williams) of many late 60s and 70s hits for, amongst others, The Carpenters. He wrote this song with 'Pet Sounds' lyricist Tony Asher, and they created a beautiful combination of sunny soft pop sounds (handclaps, brass, group harmonies) and pleasing, happy words. Musically, it is superior and extra-catchy, with nice Bacharach-esque touches and great instrumentation. The lead vocal also deserves a mention for sounding almost supernaturally brilliant (far better than it sounds in the sound sample). The singer is Melinda Macleod; her voice is lovely anyway, but here it sounds as if 3 perfect takes have been somehow overlaid on top of each other to produce an incredibly rich, soothing effect. It's over quickly - in just over two minutes. At which point I normally listen to it again a few times.

"Don't you know that my hate is everlasting, baby?" The story of the Monks is the story of rock & roll...in an alternate reality, perhaps. Take a bunch of bored US servicemen stationed in Germany about to be discharged, put them in a band, and have them decide to freak out the establishment by dressing in black capes, shaving their heads into monk's tonsures and wearing nooses as neckties. Perhaps not so shocking in these days after punk rock, but this was 1965. Oh, and don't forget the electric banjo. What began as a fairly standard surf/beat combo called the Torquays mutated into this band, churning out some of the most nihilistic music you've ever heard, even by German standards.

The Pharcyde poured a lot more into their second album "LabCabinCalifornia", a much more grown-up album, than their first. They are very talented lyricists: "Everytime I step to the microphone I put my soul on two-inch reels that I don't even own"... "You know I'll keep on rappin to tha break of dawn eventhough it is my soul that I do not even own."

Female fronted 60's garage groups are hard to come by, so this song intantly got my attention. I don't know a lot about this band; I happened to come across this song on a comp cd with little info in the liner notes. I'm assuming the band was named after the '64 film of the same title. I do know, however, that some of their stuff was just re-released. This song may have been recorded in '65 or '66. If you're the type that shuns away from buying an entire cd for one song, fear not, there are quite a few gems on this one (including another by this particular group).