One of my readers suggested this album a couple of months ago, but the opening and closing songs feature the banjo and I had to get over my banjophobia before I could give it a fair shot. Thanks to Molly Tuttle and Jem Finer of the Pogues, the disease is in remission. This does not mean I’m going to run out and buy a banjo. I’m already a shitty guitar player, and I would likely be an even shittier banjo player.

Many of my readers may not recognize this album because it was marketed as Stop! Stop! Stop! in the U.S. and Canada. The curious original album title was suggested by Bobby Elliott, who lifted a phrase from the 1932 hit “Teddy Bears’ Picnic.” The song is available on YouTube, and by happenstance, it turns out to be a test of one’s cultural origins. User @RennyLLa noted that “Everyone in America thinks it’s creepy, everyone that grew up in Europe thinks it’s nostalgic.” As an ex-American European citizen, I’m on the fence.

If you go down in the woods today,
You’d better not go alone.
It’s lovely down in the woods today,
But it’s safer to stay at home.
For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain because
Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic.

The meaning of the phrase in the context of the album has nothing to do with ravenous, rampaging teddy bears, but signals a significant evolution in the Hollies’ musical style and lyrical content. It was the first album where all the songs were written by members of the Hollies (Clarke, Hicks and Nash), marking a shift in their artistic direction. As Elliott described in his bio It Ain’t Heavy, It’s My Story, the band was moving from a brief period of uncertainty due to the departure of bassist Eric Haydock, but the change in personnel also allowed them to rethink their approach. Keith Altham of the NME noticed the wide range of genres featured on the album, mixing pop-rock with touches of New Orleans jazz, Latin-American, folk and orchestral music, all of which demanded an expansion of the instrumentation. As Elliot explained in the documentary Look Through Any Window, “It was a period we were going through, when we were just trying to find different instruments because we were getting bored.” The Beatles were getting bored with the Beatlemania Era and gave us Rubber Soul; the Hollies were getting bored doing cover songs and gave us For Certain Because. Some pundits have referred to the album as a response to Rubber Soul, which I suppose is likely, given the Beatles’ massive impact on the music scene, but I would recommend avoiding any comparisons between the two albums. Lennon and McCartney were already top-tier composers; the Hollies had only been able to land nine originals on their first four albums under the pseudonym L. Ransford, and none of those songs caused much of a stir. It’s best to consider For Certain Because a delayed maiden album, and in that sense, the Hollies fared pretty well.

As I’ve already covered two of the songs in my review of The Hollies Greatest Hits, I’ll copy snippets from those reviews and add a few new observations.

*****

All tracks written by Allan Clarke, Tony Hicks, and Graham Nash.

“What’s Wrong with the Way I Live”: Protest songs were huge in the 60s, and one of the more interesting sub-genres involved songs that rejected conformity while trumpeting the right to dress how you want, grow your hair how you want and do what you want. Sonny Bono cashed in with “Laugh at Me,” a story about how he was refused entrance to a restaurant because of his “hippie attire,” which made the top 10 despite his lousy voice. The Yardbirds were a bit more cheeky on the subject in “Over Under Sideways Down,” dismissing comments about personal appearance as an “irrelativity” and celebrating unbridled hedonism in the same verse. A very young David Bowie (during the years he was known as Davy Jones) founded the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Long-Haired Men, an effort largely dismissed as a publicity stunt. One could say that with this song, the Hollies were simply following the trends of the day, but the difference is that most of those songs were period-specific, while the Hollies took a broader approach, addressing the timeless problem of having expectations forced on you by people who should mind their own fucking business.

What’s wrong with the way I live?
The way I use my time?
People should live their lives
Leaving me to mine
Leaving me to mine

I’m a man who is defending
All his rights to live in peace
And my job is never-ending for me
Ever since I was a young man
People tried to get at me
Tried to bring me down and hurt me
And I’m losing

In the end, the narrator remains determined that “the future will be changing for me,” and is convinced that the judgmental conformists, religious zealots and overprotective parents will lose in the long run.

The anthemic nature of the song is established from the get-go as the Hollies forgo the intro and get straight to the point. The three-part harmony vocals with Allan Clarke in dominant position are unsurprisingly excellent, and the decision to let Tony Hicks run wild on the banjo gives the song a country, down-to-earth feel that syncs with the down-to-earth truth of the lyrics: people have the right to be who they want to be unless their choices directly result in harm to their fellow human beings.

“Pay You Back with Interest”:

From the Greatest Hits review: The most underrated song in their catalog, “Pay You Back with Interest” is the one tune that causes me to mourn what could have been. The rhythmic shift in the verses from waltz to 4/4 was a stroke of genius, with the 3/4 time expressing the narrator’s regret that he spends most of his life “on business,” and the upbeat 4/4 time echoing the narrator’s commitment to make it alright some day. Bobby Elliott’s drum rolls backing up the harmonies in the middle eight maintain the feeling of tension within this man’s soul as he aches for his faraway love. While I’m not fond of the use of financial metaphors to describe romance, that’s a minor quibble over what is a truly brilliant piece of work.

My mourning had to do with their late-stage turn towards original compositions. I stand by my initial impression, but because I wrote those comments during my “short-and-sweet” phase, I skipped over many aspects of the song that make it special. Allan Clarke’s vocal is one of my all-time favorites and one of the many reasons I chose him as my underrated pop-rock vocalist. In addition to those marvelous drum rolls, Bobby Elliott offers up some amazing work on the cymbals and high-hat, using just the right amount of touch to keep them under control and helping him to earn a spot on my underrated list. And whoever came up with the idea to have the sound of wedding bells carry the melody in spots deserves a huge “hurrah” for creating a musical reminder of the wedding vows that account for at least part of the narrator’s urgent desire to return home. I also love the filter used on the piano, giving it a melancholy weighting that perfectly fits the mood.

While it’s likely that constant touring inspired the lyrics, anyone who has held a job that involves frequent travel can relate to the emotional disruption resulting from extended periods without the one you love by your side. From the time I entered Corporate America, I’ve never had a job that didn’t involve travel, and though it would have been nice to have someone to share in the experience of exploring a city I’d never visited, I didn’t mind it so much until I found my life partner and began to resent the “so much to do” and “selling myself” just to earn a living.

Too many people need me
I’ve got so much, so much to do
But when my travelling is over
I’ll pay you back with interest (2)

It seems unfair to leave you
And sell myself the way I do
But when my wandering is over
I’ll pay you back with interest (2)

The lines that really hit home paint the bleak picture of being all by oneself in a sterile hotel room, far, far away: “How cold is my room? (How cold is my room?)/Without your love beside me?” Mick Jagger was far more explicit about travel-related sexual tension in “Goin’ Home,” but the Hollies did a better job describing the emotional impact and the feeling of spiritual incompleteness.

“Tell Me to My Face”: After a “3-4” from Nash, Bobby establishes the Latin beat by using his sticks on the rims, mimicking claves or metal castanets. The rhythm is locked in by a combination of nifty bass runs from new guy Bernie Calvert, acoustic strumming courtesy of Nash, and Hicks supplying the punctuation with bright electric guitar chords. The Latin beat continues throughout the entire song, making this a fabulous dance number (though I would recommend leotards for the ladies instead of flamenco garb). I was pleasantly surprised to see plenty of chord diagrams, guitar tabs, and guitar lessons for this song, because Tony Hicks knocks it out of the park on his Vox Phantom XII with those sharp chords, harmonies and counterpoints. 

Graham’s vocal is smooth and restrained as he relates a story about a chickenshit broad who dumps him via an unsigned letter.

Is it just that you can’t face the future with me
Can’t you tell me to my face
You just took the coward’s way to say goodbye
How would you feel here in my place

If at last I think I’m glad to rid myself of you I’m sad
To think about the time I’ll have to go
Then I’ll turn and walk away so please don’t beg for me to stay
Cause I know just what I will say to you

Graham doesn’t share what he would have said, but I will. “Get the hell outta my life, you miserable cunt!”

“Clown”: The sonic diversity of this album is quite remarkable. We’ve already heard a little bit of country, a ballad, and a Latin dance number, and now we’re off to the circus with a hint of calliope (likely a filtered xylophone or marimba) and a whoopee whistle!

The “Oh, boy, we’re going to the circus!” opening turns out to be a deke, as Hicks follows it with a morose, treble-heavy B7-Em chord combination, putting the kibosh on any thoughts of a grand old time. As it turns out, the song is a proto-pschyedelic version of the Hank Cochran song “A Little Bitty Tear,” popularized by Burl Ives. In both cases, the clown is broken-hearted about losing his honeybun, but the show must go on: 

Cochran/Ives Take:

Everything went like a planned it
And really put on quite a show
In my heart I felt I could stand it
Till you walked with your *grip* through the door
A little bitty tear let me down, spoiled my act as a clown
I had it made up not make a frown, but a little bitty tear let me down

Hollies’ take:

He’s lost someone dear to him
And he’s crying now although he doesn’t show it
He gives the show of his life though he’s breaking down
Although you’d never know it

But there’s something different about his smile
An unfamiliar frown
Yes, there’s something different about him now
He’s painted his smile on upside down

Not exactly plagiarism, but not particularly original. The imitation-flattery thing doesn’t work here because of the conflicting genres. Lyrical similarities aside, the Hollies have the edge in terms of establishing a darker mood, and Nash does an excellent job of conveying sadness in his vocal while never crossing the line into maudlin sappiness.

“Suspicious Look in Your Eyes”: Meh. There are three reasons why this song doesn’t work. One: The title line succumbs to over-repetition. Two: The lyrical pattern mixes rhyming and prose for no discernible reason whatsoever. Three: This is a song about a failing relationship, and the “bop-bop” background vocalizations simply don’t fit the mood. As usual, the vocal harmonies are exquisite, but none of the performances stand out. Let’s move on.

“It’s You”: This is the fourth song in a row that deals with problematic mating, in this case involving a “simple man” and a grumpy, demanding woman looking for “a man who will do just what you say.” Given her dominant streak, one might assume that she found him rather than vice versa, but it turns out that our boy has plenty of gumption and no problems speaking his mind:

Don’t raise your voice to me and don’t be unkind
I’m just a foolish man who doesn’t know his mind
There is a reason I don’t love you like I should
And it’s you
Yes, it’s you
Oh, it’s you

The arrangement is solid with Bobby Elliott opening the song with a “let’s cut to the chase” attack on the kit, soon followed by aggressive harmonica blasts from Clarke and subtle banjo arpeggios. The vocals match the power of the instrumentation, and though I wish they had changed the subject, this is classic Hollies at their best.

“High Classed”: We’re still dealing with relationships, but this song and the one that follows are about odd couples. No, not like Felix and Oscar, but unorthodox relationships that may not last forever but work long enough to make the experience worthwhile. This song is one of three with orchestrations directed by Mike Vickers, who moved on from Manfred Mann to become a composer-arranger, most notably serving as the conductor of the orchestra heard on the satellite-beamed version of “All You Need His Love.” The arrangement for this piece is early 30’s jazz with acoustic strumming, a horn section, marimba, bassoon and tin whistle, all set to a nice easy tempo.

Although we don’t know how the couple found each other, it’s possible that she had decided to engage in a bit of slumming and hooked up with a guy far beneath her on the status ladder. What’s interesting about the song is that the lower-class fellow shows no signs of resentment or inferiority, and fully understands why his partner in social crime isn’t going to take him along to meet her friends or invite him to dinner with her parents.

You wear good clothes
When I wear rags
You got educated friends
But we’ve got a good understanding
We’ve got us

We can’t be seen in public
Oh, we gotta find lowly places to go
If they see me
Walking with you
Your friends’ll cut you dead
I’ve seen it happen, I know

You eat caviar
When I eat toast
You know I can’t buy you
The things you like most
We’ve got a good understanding
We’ve got us

Both the lyrics and arrangement qualify as “playful,” and Allan sounds like he’s having all sorts of fun with his spot-on common man vocal, delivering most of his lines with a vocal shrug (as in “whatever”), and growling in empathy when he sings about her posh companions and their likely reactions to dating a commoner (as in “fuck those snobs”). Both parties want to ride the wave for as long as it lasts, and even though it won’t last long, they’ll have some nice memories to savor in old age.

“Peculiar Situation”: Well, I guess there were some people who chose to ignore the Sexual Revolution, a stance I find most peculiar indeed.

We take walks in storms on rainy nights
When it’s cold I hold you close to me
When we dine you help me choose the wine
It’s these things that mean so much to me

Ain’t this a peculiar situation
We’re lovers but we don’t make love
But when these things mean so much to us
Well, that’s all right

Though I live comfortably at the other end of the sexual spectrum, I am fully aware that there are many people out there who have little interest in sex, and well, that’s all right. If you’re happily asexual, it’s best not to succumb to cultural pressures because the experience is likely to be embarrassing and unpleasant for both parties. The human race has many options for bonding, and a platonic relationship with a soulmate is perfectly acceptable.

The arrangement is pure Hollies without embellishments: the wonderful harmonies, a solid lead vocal, and a muscular performance by Mr. Elliott. Despite my initial misgivings, “Peculiar Situation” is an enjoyable listening experience that provided a counterweight to the sexually-oriented offerings of many of the Hollies’ contemporaries during the age of “free love.”

“What Went Wrong”: Oh, darn—another failed relationship song. Worse still, it sounds like something Tom Jones would have done. Vickers’ arrangement of blasting horns and timpani is pure overkill for a song that really doesn’t say all that much. I don’t care if it’s old Hollies or new Hollies, but I want my Hollies back!

“Crusader”: This welcome break from relationship songs (failed or otherwise) tells a tale about a man who joined the Crusades and then returned to a castle in desperate need of a remodel. As if it weren’t bad enough that “All is dark/The moat is dry/Shadows fall/The roof lets in the sky,” he finds that the grass is “overrunning everything” and the battery-powered electric lawn mower won’t be available for several centuries. On the plus side, the minstrels still come around, bringing back pleasant memories of yesteryear.

Yes, there’s a bit of snarkiness in my retelling of the story, in large part because that is the whole story. We have no idea who the man is, why he felt the need to fight the so-called infidels, or why his castle is falling apart—or even if it’s his castle. Because he says nothing about his experience in battle, it’s almost impossible to feel empathy for any physical or psychological wounds he endured. All you can say in response is, “Gee, dude, sorry about your roof. Tough break.”

My resentment regarding the lyrics doesn’t have to do with me having a bad day—it has to do with a blown opportunity at the worst possible time. Bob Dylan’s influence on rock was running at full force during the mid-60s, and while the Beatles, Kinks and Stones were upping their lyrical games, the Hollies gave us this nothingburger. Worst of all, there was no excuse for lyrical negligence because the song is loaded with repeated verses and bridges that weren’t worth repeating.

Wait a sec . . . I’ll have to go ungrammatical on you . . . the worstest thing of all is that the music is exceptionally well written, well arranged, and well played. The melodic and vocal variations are excellent, with Nash assigned to the more medieval feel of the verses and Clarke the more introspective melody in the bridges. Mike Vickers’ arrangement is sensitive to the milieu and the emotional peaks and valleys of the vocal, moving to a pastoral feel with the flute and a brighter touch with the horns. Neither guitar nor banjo would have worked in this song, so Tony Hicks set those instruments aside and wisely chose the mandolin to provide the counterpoints while strengthening the medieval feel with his incredible command of the instrument.

“Don’t Even Think About Changing”: I have never had to use the word until now, but here goes: Tony Hicks is a master of one of the sub-classifications of a chordophone. In the Hornbostel–Sachs classification of musical instruments, chordophone refers to “a class of stringed instruments in which sound is produced from vibrating strings that are stretched between two (or more) fixed points.” Tony’s gifts involve “instruments with strings that can be plucked with fingers or a plectrum.”

When I hear a guitarist do something I never thought possible, I go nuts. Now, you have to take into account my previous admission that I suck at guitar, so this may not seem like a big deal to you, but when the song opens and Tony does those little up-and-down slides of tiny chords high on the fretboard, I find myself paralyzed with admiration. His cuts are clean, his picking is perfect and I know that I’ll never be able to replicate it. Little things matter in music, and those figures also serve as a perfect counterpoint to the vocals.

Tony’s syncopation is just one part of a fabulous rhythmic arrangement involving tempo changes, multiple guitars, Eric Haydock’s last bass performance with the Hollies, claps and (of course) Bobby Elliot’s ever-present drive. Allan Clarke does double duty with a commanding vocal and a well-blown harmonica. The song’s title may lead some to believe that the song is about one person in a relationship denying the other the right to change, but it’s really about defending the right to be oneself in defiance of the conformist crowd.

When people put you down
It’s ’cause they’re jealous of you
They shouldn’t make you frown
You know as well as I do

It’s ’cause I love you
For the things you do for me
One day they’ll realize
And wish that they were me

We don’t know exactly what feature made the woman an outcast, and since it would be a couple of years before women started burning bras, her sin is probably associated with fashion or displays of assertiveness. What’s important here is that the male partner encourages her to be herself, no matter what the cost, calling bullshit on the belief of some hard-core feminists that all men are control freaks. At the time, that would have been a very important message to deliver, and I wish the Hollies had released the song as a single.

By the way, I do consider myself a feminist, but I think bra burning was just fucking stupid.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”:

From the Greatest Hits review: I normally hate fucking banjos, but Tony Hicks doesn’t play the banjo in hillbilly style and does some clever things with the rhythm and the picking on the chorus. This was the first hit written by Clarke, Hicks, and Nash, so from that perspective, it’s a huge victory for the home team. I’ll tell you one thing: if I had been that belly dancer and that guy tried to fondle me during my act, that restaurant would be serving chopped penis salad as tomorrow night’s special.

Kudos to me for recognizing that Tony’s banjo playing represented a big step toward making the banjo acceptable to all. Boos and hisses to me for doing lousy research and short-selling the song.

I really wish I had the time to go back and update all my reviews published prior to 2016. I was publishing an average of three reviews a week, and you can’t do justice to even the crappiest albums on that kind of schedule while holding down a full-time job. Let’s review my failures in relation to my original review of “Stop! Stop! Stop!” (all references are from Wikipedia).

1. I failed to mention that the song was inspired by a true story: “Nash has said in various interviews that this song was inspired by the time American record executive and impresario Morris Levy took him and the rest of the band to a strip club (in New York City). They had never previously been to one, for there were none in their home city of Manchester.”
2. I noted that the banjo was somehow different, but by listening carefully, I should have realized that the band was trying to replicate the sound of the balalaika. “The banjo was played through tape delay so that it sounds like a balalaika.”
3. I did not comment on the song’s unusual rhythmic combinations involving music from the Mediterranean: “The tempo was similarly influenced by Middle Eastern and Greek music, which, combined with Bobby Elliott’s vehement cymbal crashes, results in what critic Richie Unterberger describes as “one of the most offbeat rock songs of 1966.”
4. I didn’t mention the perfectly executed three-part harmonies.
5. The documentary Look Through Any Window came out in 2011, three years before I wrote that review. I didn’t watch it until much, much later.

If I ever get around to writing a song, the title will be “A Little Self-Flagellation Will Do You Good.” I have the whips—might as well put them to good use.

In contrast to the limp lyrics on “Crusader,” the Hollies worked hard to get the lyrics right on “Stop! Stop! Stop!” The song was inspired by their first encounter with a belly dancer, but it is not a blow-by-blow account of what actually took place. In the documentary, Graham Nash recounts the experience, and it is very likely that this verse reflects the reactions of all the Hollies present at the occasion:

Blood is rushing, temperature is rising
Sweating from my brow
Like a snake, her body fascinates me
I can’t look away now

Graham also describes the woman as exceptionally beautiful, but the only physical response from the band members was the aforementioned perspiration—a key part of the inspiration. Instead of relating their comparatively unremarkable experience, they decided to hand things over to a narrator whose captivation with this gorgeous wench led to behavior that would have been unseemly for English gentlemen like the Hollies:

Now, she’s moving all around the tables
Luring all in sight
But I know that she cannot see me
Hidden by the light

Closer, closer, she is getting nearer
Soon she’ll be in reach
As I enter into a spotlight
She stands lost for speech

(chorus-instrumental-chorus)

Now I hold her, people are staring
Don’t know what to think
And we struggle knocking over tables
Spilling all the drinks

Can’t they understand that I want her?
Happens every week
Heavy hand upon my collar
Throws me in the street

Yep, he’s a relatively harmless stalker like some of the wimps who filled the titty bars on NYPD Blue. Next time he shows up he’ll probably get his ass kicked. The details imbue the song with a “you are there” feeling, full of rising tension and salacious drama. The Hollies should have tacked the lyrics on the recording studio message board with the heading “THIS IS HOW YOU WRITE GREAT LYRICS” so they would never forget.

The video below is a snippet from the documentary covering the song’s creation, “banjo tricks from Tony Hicks,” and a live performance.