Music from the 1960s decade is special. That is not to say any other decade is not special. But, for me, born in the ‘60s and youngest of five siblings, it resonates in a way that no other decade of music has. Maybe, it is because my ears first heard music in that time period. And, no doubt, mainstream music of that culture was all around me. Maybe, it was because I longed to please my older siblings, all “boomers”. Maybe, it was a longing to BE one of them, to not be “kid brother”. If I listened to the music they enjoyed, even learned to play and sing it, I would be accepted. At times, they seemed to be disinterested in it once I became immersed in it. Whatever the reason, I DID immerse myself in it. And, there was a specific element to it that touched me emotionally, and still does. There is a sadness to it, I hate to say. As wondrous as so much of it seems, it brought a sad feeling much of the time. See, I cannot dismember the social factors that occurred with it, the music, that is. The race struggles in America, the tragedy of the Vietnam debacle, the generation gap, liberation breakthroughs for women and youth, and more. It is all there, all in the music. If not addressed in the records themselves, in the songs, it was coinciding WITH the records/songs. For some reason, there are records from the 1960s that bring a deep feeling of sadness every time I hear them. More than that, there are CHORDS that do it! Sometimes, it is a specific moment in a record, and the deep feeling lasts for an instant, no longer. However, it will have that effect every time I hear it, still. It is like a sharp, stabbing melancholy that strikes. Let me be clear, it is not a bad thing. The feeling is one akin to watching a very touching, but, sad movie and having a good cry. That cry, all because the film was so powerful. Thus, is the feeling I get ANYTIME I HEAR “ Walk Away Renee”. The hit record by The Left Banke, with its syrupy strings, key of A, has an F minor chord (6 minor chord) in the chorus just as “these empty sidewalks on my block”comes into the picture. A moment later, a C# minor/3 minor chord (this is musician speak, I know) falls in the progression at “are not the same”. It is always powerfully sad for me. I cannot help but think of 45 rpm discs, cheap phonograph players in the hands of youngsters, skating rinks, poolside jukeboxes, and a time of social challenges. The song was sung by Steve Martin Caro and was written by Michael Brown, Bob Calilli and Tony Sansone. Others, such as Four Tops recorded it, too. The feeling behind the song is one of sheer heartbreak. And, I feel it each listen. Other ‘60s pop hits have a strong impact on me when I hear them, and they can even make me think OF the ‘60s in a sad sort of way. Procal Harum’s “Whiter Shade Of Pale” has that kind of vibe for me, even down to the funeral-esque organ that colors the track. Keith Reid and Gary Brooker are the authors, with Brooker’s soulful and mournful vocal carrying us all out to sea. Again, those minor chord changes hit home. “Walk Away Renee” and “ Whiter Shade Of Pale” (from ‘66 and ‘67) could be candidates to carry the torch for representing the decade, in my opinion. Upon hearing either record, the 1960s are conjured, albeit the place in pop history or the sonic recording quality. I know, there are countless records that could represent that magical decade. In country music Merle Haggard or Buck Owens would have candidates. Otis Redding or Percy Sledge could provide such a defining record, coming from the soul music realm. Many slick pop hits such as “ Downtown “ or “Summer In The City” are fitting. Folk music would toss out mainstream anthems “The Times They Are a-Changin’ and “Blowin’ In The Wind”, both penned by the same iconic writer (Bob Dylan). Of course, many would argue that a song to say “the 1960’s” would have to be a Beatles one. But, the truth is that record players became far more produced during those years, causing sales in popular music to eclipse previous works. And, the liberation going on in all kinds of areas provided much more diversity and kicked in the doors of creative boundaries. The explosion of great and/or deeply impacting music during 1960-69 is undeniable, for whatever reasons. I cannot help but imagine the significance of an older brother’s favorite record he left behind before shipping off to Southeast Asia. Or, the record that was playing on a car radio, just as a teenage girl hitched a ride with a stranger because she was running away from a troubled home. The transistor radio could have been playing a certain hit by Marvin Gaye a moment before the clubs and dogs were unleashed on an upright, American teen. Yes, there was sadness, darkness, and such that is associated with 1960s music and it never fails to cross my mind when indulging in it. It runs deep inside me. Having put all this out there, it fascinates me to think of what record would have been the final #1 hit of the 1960s. Seriously, it is interesting for me-what record “closed out” the decade of upheaval, social change, and blooming colors? Would that particular record leave me with a strong feeling, an emotional gulp in my throat? Well, as the ‘60s were so trusting for me in delivering lots of meaningful songs, yes, the close-out #1 on Billboard does that. It is “Someday We”ll Be Together”. Recorded as a solo Diana Ross track, it was released as Diana Ross & The Supremes. However, no Supreme is on it. Mary Wilson and Cindy Birdsong are not singing on it, though haunting backing vocals by Maxine and Julia Waters are. First a record in the early ‘60s by Johnny Bristol, and written by him and Harvey Fuqua and Jackey Beavers, the Ross cover has a distinct vibe for me. It SOUNDS LIKE THE END OF THE ‘60s. Probably, some of that has to do with it being the end of The Supremes. Yes, The Beatles were no longer to be, The Supremes would be discarded by Diana Ross, even the old Man In The Moon would no longer be so mysterious. He would have man’s footprints trampled all over his romantic face. Countless runaways would be growing up fast, or dying on the street. Young soldiers would be killed, maimed, or forever altered by the ongoing war in Vietnam. Leaders would be brought down by assassins, and families torn apart by differences over new, social realities. Ah, yes, it was time to turn a new corner and leave those ‘60s behind. Yet, the problems were unresolved and the new leaf was imaginary. “Someday we”ll be together…oh yes we will, yes we will” goes the record. Are you sure about that, Diana? Did Mary Wilson, her voice not on the track, think that? It seems so positive, lyrically, rolling out of the turbulent ‘60s and into the ‘70s. But, there it is again-the record brings forth a massive feeling of sadness for me. Give it a listen and let me know your thoughts. It WAS the final top hit record of that decade. It will be a great trivia question for you at parties. History is there, etched in stone, like the Statue of Liberty jutting out of the sand at the end of The Planet Of The Apes movie. The record sounds so “final”, like the decade that was so change-making was coming to a complete close, never to be seen again. Sad. It HAD ended. It was over. Diana’s optimism just doesn’t cut through for me. It signals the end of it all. Like The Grassroots hit “Let’s Live For Today”, the last number one of the ‘60s, “Someday We”ll Be Together” has an attempt at positiveness, yet, gives me a melancholy feeling. But, I love the ride.