[Measuring the marigold.]
Revisiting A&M Records No. 22
The Sandpipers: ‘The Sandpipers’ (May ’67)
Know what song I just love? ‘Inchworm.’ Maybe you’re film-buff enough to have seen the kids classic for which it was written, 1952’s ‘Hans Christian Andersen,’ one of Danny Kaye’s most memorable roles. Or perhaps you first encountered it in grade-school as a maths tool because of its backdrop counterpoint. Surely some will recall the refrain: ‘2 and 2 are 4 … 4 and 4 are 8 …’ and so forth, up to 32.
It’s just as likely this lullaby is entirely new to you. I find it eerily haunting. So too, I gather, do (or did) many others who have recorded it: Paul McCartney, Kenny Loggins, Anne Murray, Dan Zanes, Doris Day, Lisa Loeb. Coltrane toyed with it, too.
Then there’s Bowie, who drew inspiration from Frank Loesser’s tune when he wrote ‘Ashes to Ashes.’ That melancholy piece ‘wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t have been for “Inchworm.” … [T]here’s something so sad and mournful and poignant about it. It kept bringing me back to the feelings of those pure thoughts of sadness that you have as a child, and how they’re so identifiable even when you’re an adult.’
Among the best renditions is a standout on this second LP from one of A&M’s finest purveyors of easy listening in the late ‘60s, the Sandpipers.
Kicks off a lovely run amid a pleasant spin, followed by ‘It’s Over’ (Jimmie Rodgers’s breakup ballad, not Roy Orbison’s), the harpsichord-dappled ‘Glass’ (with harmonic hints of Simon & Garfunkel and the later Zombies) and back-to-back Beatles covers in Spanish, a samba-fied ‘Michelle’ (‘¡te quiero! ¡te quiero! ¡te quierrrrro!’) faring better than ‘Ayer.’
It opens, however, with something I just loathe: fake live recordings. Even worse when they’re designed for at-home singalongs. At least the two ‘live’ cuts here are such a poor mix of applause and overdub that they keep me chuckling.
Once upon a time I absolutely hated music like this. Now it’s quiet comfort, a head-clearing as vintage-appealing as A&M’s array of cover models.
I suppose with age comes a refined appreciation of serenity.