The Lovin’ Spoonful--

Daydream (One Way Records)

and Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful (Pair Records)

One of the first questions people ask me upon ascertaining that it’s hopeless trying to get me to talk about anything but music is what my favorite bands are. I tell ‘em The Beatles and The Velvet Underground. This seems to confuse the heck out of everyone; I’ve never really understood why, but I decided long ago that it wasn’t worth worrying about. When I proclaim The Lovin’ Spoonful as band number three on my personal all-time hit parade, most people just nod their heads sagely and change the subject quick before I get a chance to move on to NRBQ.

Personal tastes are personal, after all, and I generally try to be respectful of other people’s opinions. Still, I’ve always suspected that people who don’t like The Lovin’ Spoonful either haven’t heard enough of their stuff to know, or have a serious problem. I don’t mean that snottily, not at all. I know what it’s like to have serious problems; most of the people I know and love do, too. Serious problems are nothing to get snotty about.

But doggonit. How can you resist a band that burrows into their rubbersoulful groove with such goodhumored pluck and warmth? Unless you just plain dislike / distrust humor, pluck, warmth or any given permutation thereof. I guess I could understand that. I know lots of people like that. The Lovin’ Spoonful are so darn likeable that they just plain piss a lot of folks off.

For the rest of us, though, 1990 brought good news after years of some of the most awful sounding CDs on the market and horror stories of lost master tapes and such. First, our heroes at Rhino Records put out a thoroughly delightful (if programmatically predictable) Anthology, and now, O happy day!-- two of the shaggy combo’s original classic LPs (out of print for two decades) are available on bright shiny digital thangs!

And they really do sound great, even the one on the Pair label. Steve Boone’s gangly bass, Joe Butler’s game skin-bashery, the distinctive strum und drone of John Sebastian’s autoharp (a pretty damn cool instrument, in an anti-cool kinda way, when you think about it), the wry, assuring baritone burr of his voice, the spring-sprung brilliance of his tunage (not to mention wordage)... all of it always did sound great (on LP and 45, at least), but never so fine fine fine as this.

And let’s talk about Zalman Yanovsky for a minute. Armed with little more than a guitar, a small amp, a poet’s soul, a dirty mind, and a vocabulary of elementary Chet Atkins licks, rude noises (Johnny Thunders’ kindly uncle), and goofy faces (yes, you can hear ‘em)-- oh but wait, that hardly accounts for the mind-cooling ocean breezes of "Coconut Grove," let alone the words unspoken of "Didn’t Want To Have To Do It," or the near-atonal running commentary on "Jug Band Music" (pure gutterspeak) and "Four Eyes"... It’s hardly a mystery why Richard Thompson cites Yanovsky as a key influence.

Viewing vintage concert footage at Matt Keenan’s pad last summer and watching Zal count the band into "You Didn’t Have To Be So Nice" with his whole body (twice; they blew the first cue, probably because they were laughing too hard), then somehow rocking back and forth and leaping about and pulling goofy faces and singing along and conducting with guitar and hair AND playin’ pretty, all-at-once, confirmed to me what the music alone had long ago suggested: that Zal Yanovsky is The Great Lost Rock Guitar Hero, and the loss is our own. Come back, Zally, all is forgiven!

So much more here than golden oldie memories, gang-- the best of this music is every bit as timeless as the best Beatles and Velvets stuff. The Spoonful were less ambitious, perhaps; but twenty-plus years on, that doesn’t seem to matter much, and I bet it didn’t then. They were smart enough to recognize and play to their strengths, and those strengths were (and are) as strong as strengths come. Drop that attitude, pick up Daydream or Hums, and spoon yourself out a dollop o’ lovin’.

-- Charles Olver /Catharsis #16-- January 1991

(Postscript: since this review appeared in Catharsis, both albums have been re-reissued a number of times, and are due to be yet again. The most recent version of Hums pairs that album with Do You Believe In Magic, the Spoonful’s debut and a great album in its own right. --CO)