Revisiting A&M Records No. 24
The Merry-Go-Round: ‘The Merry-Go-Round’ (November ‘67)
Ten installments ago I asserted Lee Michaels was the label’s first true rock star. I stand by that statement, even if it took him four years and five albums to score a genuine chart smash.
That suggests A&M’s seers saw reasons for long-term investment in his career. By comparison, the two power-pop prototypes they signed shortly before acquiring Michaels — Monkees mainstays Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart (see No. 18) and this shimmering carousel, the second vehicle for then-teenage singer-songwriter Emitt Rhodes — well, they weren’t treated poorly by A&M, but neither do their tenures point to proof of steadfast commitment.
I’d say what a shame regarding the Merry-Go-Round if Rhodes hadn’t gone on to make two near-flawless gems worth treasuring: his proper self-titled debut (’70) and equally excellent follow-up ‘Mirror’ (’71), both cut for Dunhill. Such sparkling songcraft was sure to emerge one way or another.
Probably just as well the band fell apart fast, a destiny seemingly preordained considering it had been cobbled together out of spare players. Drummer Joel Larson emigrated from the Grass Roots, bassist Bill Rinehart floated in from the Leaves, and Rhodes had just gone AWOL from the Palace Guard, a SoCal smash in ’66 thanks to ‘Falling Sugar.’
There’s still much to love about their terrific one-off, infectious well beyond almost-hit ‘Live.’ Self-evident Beatlemaniacs (on ‘Low Down’ see if you can spot what they cribbed from ‘I Should’ve Known Better’), they often sound more influenced by the harmonized folk-rock of the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield, blended with a baroque smidgen of the Left Banke. In other moments, especially the lovely lament ‘Had to Run Around,’ they’re Big Star half a decade before that trio existed.
Wonderful stuff. Too bad A&M did Rhodes dirty two years later.
But that’s a story for another time.
I wonder how Alpert & Moss came to know of the Merry-Go-Round. Given the group’s growing popularity in LA as ’66 became ’67, I assume it might have been a more organic discovery than merely hearing another demo dropped off at Charlie Chaplin Studios, the landmark location that became A&M’s home around the same time the M-G-R became a band.
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Considering Jerry Moss’s admitted awakening at Monterey Pop — and the stark realization that A&M didn’t have a band on the bill — I strongly suspect *someone* from the label must have been in Northern California the week before that ballyhooed event, for that’s when Summer of Love festivals in the Bay Area actually began.
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KFRC’s Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Festival occurred in Marin County one weekend prior to Monterey Pop, drew 40,000 attendees when they anticipated 20,000, and boasted a lineup nearly equal to what the acknowledged granddaddy of rock fests provided.
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Among those who appeared: the Doors (in their first large-scale performance), the Byrds (with Hugh Masekela on trumpet), Jefferson Airplane, Dionne Warwick, Tim Buckley, the 5th Dimension, the Grass Roots, Country Joe and the Fish, Captain Beefheart … and the Merry-Go-Round.
Further label wonkery: When Emitt Rhodes parted ways with A&M to create his homegrown power-pop masterworks, he did so for Dunhill Records. That label had been founded by Lou Adler, who built its reputation on the backs of the Mamas and the Papas. He also was instrumental in staging Monterey Pop, an ear-opener for all in attendance, but an especially pivotal experience for Jerry Moss, who returned convinced that A&M had to dive headlong into the deep end of the rock pool.
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Yet, by the time Rhodes was making little marvels for Dunhill, Adler had sold his endeavor to ABC and established a new imprint, Ode Records. So while former A&M talent Rhodes was putting out albums on Adler’s former label, Adler himself was bringing the world Carole King’s ‘Tapestry’ and Cheech & Chong’s early catalog — via A&M, Ode’s distributor.