MY GENERATION

THE WHO (1965)

'You Really Got Me' may have communicated the blunt directness of the sixties generation but it was at heart still just a love (or lust) song. It took another group of Londoners to really convey the aggression and iconoclastic verve of the new British r & b.

A rallying call for the Mod subculture which had developed from its jazz roots over the course of the decade, 'My Generation' is a vitriolic cry of rebellion against the reactionary views of the establishment. Built around a call and response framework Roger Daltrey stutters out such notorious lines as 'hope I die before I get old' to a frenzied, staccato beat and one of the first bass solos courtesy of John Entwistle.

Daltrey's vocal tic was sufficiently original to merit numerous myths about its purpose springing up. Depending on who you believe it is variously a reflection of the vocal effect of the amphetamines so beloved of the Mods or a juvenile attempt at innunendo (the 'f-f-fade away' line being anticipated as something altogether more explicit.) Its true purpose scarcely matters, it fits the jerky, restless energy of the song perfectly and whilst it may become increasingly embarrassing for Townshend et al to trot out in their mid-sixties it remains a hugely influential and enervating rock classic; proto-punk for the scooter generation.

YOU REALLY GOT ME
THE KINKS (1964)

The effect of the British beat invasion on the US was a two-way affair. American groups may have adopted the bluesier style of their transatlantic cousins but the British bands were not above plundering the gems of garage rock. Hence the famous guitar solo on The Kinks' 'You Really Got Me,' a speeded up version of the riff from The Kingsmen's take on 'Louie Louie.'

Of course to reduce such an iconic blast of electric guitar to an act of plagiarism is grossly unfair. What is so distinctive about Dave Davies' riff is the distortion, achieved by slicing the cone of his amplifier with a razor blade. It's an appropriate metaphor for a song so full of swagger and easy menace. The wistful, erudite lyrics that peppered the band's sound in the late sixties and early seventies are nowhere to be seen here. Instead we have the proto-heavy metal riff and wailed confessions of sexual obsession.

The song hit the number one spot in the UK after the group's first two singles stiffed. There is also a, completely unfounded, rumour that that riff was not in fact played by Davies at all but rather by the soon to be Yardbird Jimmy Page, who was brought in as a session musician several weeks after the recording of the single.

LOUIE LOUIE

THE KINGSMEN (1963)

Years before the studied primitivism of punk or the DIY ethic of the C86 scene American garage rock was the last word in one-take ramshackle chaos and Portland's Kingsmen recorded its defining anthem.

Originally written by Richard Berry in 1955 as a Jamaican-style ballad narrated by a lovesick sailor , by the time the Kingsmen got their hands on it the world had been scandalised by the sexual threat of Elvis and the thunderous guitar assault of Link Wray's Rumble. Raw is the best word to describe the song's 1963 incarnation. Recorded in one-take by a band none too technically proficient it is a riot of mistimed and unintelligible vocals from Jack Ely, abortive instrumental attempts at the chorus and the sound of the drummer Lynn Easton uttering a muffled 'fuck' as his drum sticks click together.

Yet it wasn't that spontaneous profanity that disturbed the American listening public. The fact that Ely's vocals were beyond any kind of interpretation led to the moral majority's conviction that they must be masking obscene lyrics. Incredibly the FBI got involved but were forced to admit defeat after a 31 month investigation failed to identify any offending words.

The version, kept off the top of the US charts by Bobby Vinton and the Singing Nun, is a glorious slab of wild and free rock that soundtracked the lives of early sixties American teenagers. As 1964 progressed native bands would begin to lift the more blues-based riffs of the British Invasion bands but for now this was the sound of US rock n roll.

Listing Dangerously

Hello there one and all (most likely one, if I'm lucky.) My name is Mark Skinner and I have a dangerous and unhealthy obsession. It's not crystal meth or Extreme Embroidery or anything as intriguing and edgy as that. No. It's lists. And not useful lists either. Not shopping lists or to-do lists or inventories of important items. It's subjective lists. Pointless lists. Who or what is the greatest blah blah blah lists. I am addicted to placing things into an (often fairly arbitrary) order of merit, and I have frequently wondered what this says about me as a human being. It's probably a good thing I'm not in charge of a small third world nation for example. Anyhow, the problem is this: I have recently completed a masters in creative writing and am now labouring under the delusion that I can write, combined with a messianic desire to share this with the world (or a handyman in Iowa, which will probably be the sum total of my audience.)

However, I have decided to break somewhat with tradition and compile a list that does not go up or down in ascending or descending order of merit but rather chugs on chronologically through the annals of history. Ladies, gentlemen, criminal psychologists, I give you - the story of rock music through 50 songs. One per artist/act to prevent a dreary catalogue of Lennon-McCartney's finest and one per day to prevent myself obsessing.

Nurse, the vitamins.....