You Can't Put Too Much Love Into It
A message from the universe in the form of an obscure thrift shop 45.
Every month or so, I duck into into a little church thrift shop a few towns over. The place is only open one day a week for a few hours at a time, but I’ll always stop by if I happen to be running errands in the vicinity on that day. The stock turns over fairly slowly, but I’ve unearthed just enough musical treasures there over the past couple of years — like my reel-to-reel tape of Percy Faith’s surprisingly funky Clair LP — to keep me coming back.
Last Friday, November 1st, I walked into their books and records room, only to be confronted by the retina-searing sight of a massive Christmas display dominating one of the walls. I give the shop volunteers props for the nice job of organizing their substantial array of holiday tchotchkes, and I suppose they only have a limited time in which to sell this stuff, but come on; as much as I love Christmas, I was really not ready to visit Santa’s workshop on the day after Halloween.
How not ready? Unexpectedly encountering this stuff actually gave me a mild anxiety attack, a paralyzing realization of “Christmas will be here before you know it!” compounded by a sudden onslaught of melancholy Christmas-related memories. But instead of freaking out, I did what I often do in times of emotional upheaval: I headed over to the record bin, and tried to focus my mind on the meditative activity of flipping through old 45s.
The vinyl pickings were fairly slim, but I didn’t really mind. Oftentimes, just cradling the black discs in my hands and seeing the various record label designs flash by as I flip them is enough to center myself in times of stress and turmoil; if I score something cool or interesting in the process, well, that’s just parmesan on the pasta. I wound up walking out with four singles — Sam Cooke’s “Chain Gang” and Gary U.S. Bonds’ “New Orleans” (cleaner copies than the ones I already owned), Paul Chaplain and His Emeralds’ raving rockabilly two-sider “Shortnin’ Bread” b/w “Nicotine,” and The Vocal Majority’s “You Can’t Put Too Much Love Into It (Parts I & II)”.
The latter 45 was completely unfamiliar to me, but I took a chance on it — hell, I figured that the super-mod Straight Ahead Records logo was alone worth the buck I paid for the record. Upon getting it home and spinning it, I wasn’t particularly enamored of Part I, which has a “good timey” sound similar to “Miss Frenchy Brown” by Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass (one of my least favorite TJB tracks, tbh) and corny lyrics sung with clenched smiles by a whitebread chorus. Discogs offers no release date for the record, but between the song’s rinky-dink banjo-and-horns arrangement and its awkward use of the slogan, “Make love, not war,” I’d wager that it’s from early 1967. Likewise, there’s no real info out there on The Vocal Majority (not to be confused with the men’s choir of the same name), but it’s pretty clearly a one-off involving a group of studio musicians and vocalists.
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Part II, on the other hand, is an absolute delight. It’s the same melody as Part I, more or less, only stretched out over a moderately funky groove with some twangy guitar, peppy soul organ and dreamy, EZ listening-worthy vocals. The overly verbose verses of Part I have been ditched, and the song’s lyrics stripped down to its chorus and bridge, which gives the musicians plenty of space to shine while bringing the song’s message to the fore:
Whatever you say
Whatever you decide to do
Leave the smile on your face
Let your love shine through
You can’t put too much love into it
A simple message which was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment.
Like a whole lotta Americans (and citizens of this planet in general), I have become increasingly anxious as Election Day approaches. I have lived through a lot of election cycles by now, but this particular collection of races — from the President on down — feels almost unbearably portentous. I am also profoundly resentful that we’re now in a place where the possibility of political violence at the polls or in the aftermath of the voting is strikingly real; and not even the New York Times can “both sides” away the reality that only one of the two major parties has been amping up the violent rhetoric, or that one of the two major Presidential candidates was directly responsible for the January 6th insurrection and is currently fanning the same flames with his unhinged rhetoric. This is not normal, and shouldn’t be. And yet here we are…
At the same time, listening to this wonderfully cheesy little B-side reminded me that I am at my best — and do my best work — when I’m coming from a place of love rather than a place of anger or hatred. From my teens into my early thirties, I fully subscribed to John Lydon’s “anger is an energy” ethos, without understanding that he was talking about channeling anger, as opposed to carrying it around with you all the time and/or constantly spoiling for confrontation. When I look now at things I wrote in my twenties, I so often cringe at the gratuitous snark involved, or at my completely unnecessary attempts to stir up shit or settle perceived scores. But I also cringe because those things remind me of how bad I felt inside when I was writing them.
Somewhere along the way, I gradually (and thankfully) let that shit fall by the wayside. And these days, in my work and in my life, I am reminded time and time again that the best stuff happens when I’m coming at it from a place of love; I also just feel better for it, physically and mentally. I know that there’s a million things I could be fuming about at any moment, but what good would it do me or anyone in my orbit to have that stew pot simmering 24/7?
Instead, I try to focus on the great many things in my life and work that I genuinely love, and how fortunate I am to have a roof over my head, food in my fridge, and not be living in a war zone. As a result, I quite literally wake up every day with a smile on my face. (Just ask my girlfriend, who remains perpetually astounded at how ridiculously chipper I am even before I’ve had my morning coffee.) Sure, I get pissed or anxious about plenty of stuff; but whenever that happens, I try to deal with it in a positive manner and then move on to other, more soul-enriching things.
Life is never going to be perfect, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely devoid of magic, either; and I’d rather spend my existence looking for its magic than bemoaning its flaws. I sure as shit am not gonna waste my precious hours fighting with other folks on social media, especially when it’s far more gratifying to make people smile with my words — like my new Redd Kross book, which I know for a fact has made at least a couple of readers spit liquid through their noses with laughter.
Speaking of smiles, Sascha Burland — the man who wrote and produced this Vocal Majority single — was very much in the business of smiles. A Madison Avenue jingle writer, Burland wrote the music for Alka-Seltzer’s “No Matter What Shape Your Stomach’s In” ad campaign, which became a 1965 instrumental hit in a recording by the studio group The T-Bones. And according to this fascinating 2016 piece by Greg Ehrbar, Burland also wrote the theme for the mid-sixties edition of the TV game show What’s My Line, was the brains behind the varispeed novelty “group” The Nutty Squirrels (a knock-off of The Chipmunks), and wrote/produced/directed two 1960 albums featuring Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters: Howl Along with Huckleberry Hound and Yogi Bear, and Huckleberry Hound for President.
It’s unclear to me exactly what Burland was going for with the Vocal Majority single.(The group’s name is a humorous nod to “The Silent Majority,” a popular catchphrase in political discussions during the 1960s). The A-side isn’t funny or wacky enough to qualify as a novelty single, and it doesn’t exactly radiate straightforward pop hit potential, either. And the B-side really does kinda sound like a leftover advertising jingle; whenever the singers drop out, I half expect an announcer to chime in with his pitch for chewing gum or a new model of automobile. But maybe positivity really is the “product” the track is supposed to be advertising? If that’s indeed what “You Can’t Put Too Much Love Into It (Part II)” is selling, then I’m happily buying…
There’s really no telling what’s going to happen tomorrow or in the days after that; everybody has their theories, predictions and gut feelings, and I certainly have mine — but I have no wish to add to the noise. And if possible, I’m going to try to stay as far away from the TV, radio and internet as possible on Tuesday night, because I know that watching the election returns (and/or glimpsing people’s reactions to them on social media) will drive me absolutely insane.
Better, for me at least, to spend that time focusing on things that I love, like the new (still hush-hush) book project I’m working on, or playing with my cats, or playing guitar and writing music, or luxuriating in transportive sounds, or cooking a delicious dinner for my girlfriend, or giving my 45 collection a thorough reorganization. As I wrote 35 years ago in a song for my old band Lava Sutra, there are so many ways to be happy; and whatever this next week, year and decade brings, I now know that communing with joy and putting as much love as possible into everything I do is what’s ultimately gonna carry me through. Finding the Vocal Majority single was just the reaffirmation that I needed along those lines, a well-timed nudge in that direction from the universe.
Love to you all. Be safe out there, and I’ll hopefully see you on the other side…
(Click here to listen if the clip above won’t play for you.)
"You Can't Put Too Much Love Into It" is SUCH a Great Title/Lyric
Leaning into gratitude and love in these dark times is a recipe for contentment and serenity and is something I wish more people went for more regularly. The world would be in a better place for it.