Revisiting A&M Records No. 31
‘Roger Nichols & the Small Circle of Friends’ (January* ’68)
Ever since the year began and this chronological reexamination deepened almost bottomlessly, this enchanting obscurity has become my white whale, my new holy grail — which is my way of admitting that this photo is doctored.
Never stooped to such deception before; every cover I’ve shared has been the real thing. But when even haggard first editions of this gem are fetching sky-high prices, ditto the 2018 European repress, I just can’t. Apart from a pristine Beatles butcher cover, no single LP merits triple digits.
And yet I keep nudging my top-bid threshold higher. That’s how goofy I’ve gotten over this sublime beam of sunshine pop.
There’s backstory here crucial to the A&M story: Despite its now-legendary pedigree — Tommy LiPuma produced, Bruce Botnick engineered, Tony Asher co-wrote several songs, Randy Newman and Van Dyke Parks and Lenny Waronker contributed — Nichols’s attempt at self-named fame fizzled fast. Herb Alpert liked what he heard, however, and made Nichols a staff songwriter.
That led to meeting tiny giant Paul Williams, born two days after Roger, which led to them writing the bank jingle ‘We’ve Only Just Begun,’ which led to a Carpenters hit, then a half-dozen more Carpenters hits, and Grammys, and a venerable lifelong career.
All of which principally explains why his dreamy debut disc deserves a proper post with a phony pic, not an in-between blip on my story. But I’d have done the same had he remained a complete unknown.
Nichols’s entrance into the cheery ‘60s popverse is just that exquisite, that joyful — the best parts of Burt Bacharach, Brian Wilson and the 5th Dimension blended with rich harmonies reminiscent of Karen & Richard and Brasil ’66 yet sans schmaltz, plus energy borrowed from the Fab Four and the Lovin’ Spoonful (both covered, twice apiece).
Then there’s ‘Kinda Wasted Without You,’ which belongs in an imaginary Wes Anderson musical.
I should buy it already, shouldn’t I?
No, no. Everything gets repressed.
I can definitely wait. Probably definitely.
* About the date: Some sources, specifically Spotify, suggest this came out in June ’68, not earlier in the year. Based on catalog numbering and other timeline elements, I surmise that’s unlikely. Given verified February-or-later release dates for LPs from Liza Minnelli, Claudine Longet, Boyce & Hart, Pete Jolly, Phil Ochs and more — all with higher catalog numbers than Roger Nichols’s debut — I’m pegging the arrival of ‘Small Circle of Friends’ to very early ’68, probably January.