Songs of Protest and Representation 1965-1970

This study was produced in conjunction with Dr. Toby Jenkins' seminar The Art of Protest, part of Union Institute and University's Ph.D. in Interdisciplinary Studies program, during the fall of 2012.

Click here to view the Songs of Representation and Protest 1965-1970 playlist on YouTube (opens in a new window)!

Which commercially-successful protest songs released during the years 1965-1970 most helped define the moniker “protest songs,” and which remain salient models of the form today? Examining ten songs from a variety of performers released during the five years in question, written social, musical, and economic contextualization will explore how each song sought to new roles for the individual in society, across social, economic, and civic dimensions. While the development of popular music as a viable source of rhetorical statements of critique and protest to an extent coincided with the widespread commodification of the genre through physical recorded media, corporate publishing and distribution interests were challenged to endorse some artists’ political statements.  

These songs have been selected not only for their themes of representation of underrepresented voices, but especially for their undeniable popularity and commercial success. The period between the years of 1965 and 1970 was selected for its critical influence on the public sphere, during which individuals and groups challenged and helped refine working definitions of free speech and peaceable assembly; David Berger, in his 1975 study of pop music’s cycles of symbolic production, notes these years to be “the peaking of lyrical diversity [that] may have been a function of the increasing range of public controversy over civil rights and the Veit Nam war in society at large. But social turmoil is not inevitably mirrored in popular music” (Berger, p. 168). The ability of popular music to participate in conversations of social, economic, and civic critique is important, across all of our virtual, digital platforms for discussion and collaboration. As musicians, performers, and consumers seek rewarding lyrical and musical experiences online, choices in artists’ social, economic, and civic statement may complicate, and perhaps render defunct, previous cycles of symbolic production within the creative genre of widely-disseminated popular music.

In her essay “Why I Refused the Medal for the Arts,” poet Adrienne Rich explained the rich relationship between viewer and creator at work in creative expression: “art is our human birthright, our most powerful means of access to our own and another’s experience and imaginative life. In continually rediscovering the humanity of human beings, art is crucial to the democratic vision” (p. 103). To help redefine the role of lyrical music in the digital public sphere, each song in this study has been performed in unique arrangement during the months of September and October 2012, and has been produced for distribution to YouTube. Each video is a solo performance of the songwriter’s original words; the performer has taken liberties with modulations, tempo variations, instrumentation, and the inclusion of repeated choruses. While the contribution of these videos to the digital, public sphere may not be fully representative of the author’s original work, the human connection of live, recorded performance seeks the human connection identified by Rich, the “access to our own and another’s experience and imaginative life.”

Click here to view the Songs of Representation and Protest 1965-1970 playlist on YouTube (opens in a new window)!

“Mr. Tambourine Man” (1965)

Written by Bob (Zimmerman) Dylan in February of 1964, following a trip to New Orleans, “Mr. Tambourine Man” represents one of Dylan’s decisive critical statements of individual representation. Released on his 1965 album Bringing It All Back Home, this song was almost immediately popularized through versions by Judy Collins and The Byrds, who performed it live on the Ed Sullivan Show in December, 1965. “Mr. Tambourine Man” was Bob Dylan’s first #1 hit on the Billboard charts, and remains emblematic of his abilities, as a songwriter and postmodern poet.

 
Take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind

Down the foggy ruins of time/far past the frozen leaves/the haunted, frightened trees

Out to the windy beach/far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky/with one hand waving free

Silhouetted by the sea/circled by the circus sands […]

hey, mister tambourine man, play a song for me

I’m not sleepy and is there is no place I’m going to (Dylan, 1965).

Through a variety of rhetorical strategies employed in postmodern poetry, Dylan’s lyrics describe an individual seeking to enjoin another on a journey of both intrinsic and extrinsic value. A spiritual statement of submission resounds through each chorus (“in the jingle-jangle morning I’ll come following you”), as each verse describes a framework of complexity, beneath which the individual may find no solace, and seeks deliverance. The listener, subject to the very dilemmatic environment Dylan describes (“evenin’s empire has returned into sand/vanished from my hand”), is invited to a metaphysical separation from physical circumstance (“I’m ready to go anywhere/I’m ready for to fade”), to rejoice a renewed and empowered autonomy and authority of the individual.

“(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” (1965)

Written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and recorded in May of 1965 for release as a 45rpm single in the following month, “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” represents the Rolling Stones’ lyrical and instrumental interpretation of rock and roll, its themes and discontents. At the time of their writing and crafting this song for release, the band had already enjoyed years of popularity, and were well-established in the public sphere. While the song received critical and commercial success upon its release as a single on the Atco label, its sexually suggestive lyrics were censored in live television performances by the band later that year.  

When I’m driving in my car/and a man comes on the radio

Tellin’ me more and more about some useless information/supposed to drive my imagination

I can’t get no/satisfaction (Rolling Stones, 1965).

Jagger’s lyrics describe a frustration with economic, social, and political conditions; the dwindling abilities of the individual to respond and participate within established systems of representation are made clear, through examples that include radio and television advertisements, as well as the grueling efforts made in support of performance tours (“when I’m ridin’ round the world/and I’m doin’ this and I’m signing that”). The individual, struggling to match, if not exceed, societal norms of behavior and consumerism (“how white my shirts can be […] can’t be a man/because he doesn’t smoke/the same cigarettes as me”), is delivered no satisfaction, beyond the visceral thrusts of electric guitar that accompany each rebellious chorus.

                  

“Sloop John B.” (1966)

A folk song from the West Indies (first recorded there in 1935), the Beach Boys’ interpretation of this popular song was titled “Sloop John B.,” and was recorded in July and December of 1965. The Kingston Trio had recorded a version in 1958; Johnny Cash released a version titled “I Want to Go Home” in 1959. Appearing on the Beach Boys’ landmark 1966 album Pet Sounds, “Sloop John B.” was first released as a 45rpm single for Capitol Records, where it received extensive commercial and critical success—not only for its unique instrumentation, sonic quality, and vocal harmonies, but also for its themes of departure and yearning.

The first mate he got drunk/and broke in the captain’s trunk

The constable had to come and take him away/sheriff John Stone/why don’t you leave me alone

Well I feel so broke up I wanna go home/hoist up the John B.’s sail (traditional; Beach Boys, 2011).    

 Two verses describe the on-shore tribulations and conflicts of the ship John B.’s crew: fights in “Nassau town,” and thievery that results in the presence and evasion of law enforcement. The chorus offers the promise of escape, from a sorrowful environment, descending into repeated pleas to “go home.” The imagery of a sail being raised invokes the promise of travel, the retreat to other places, of less difficult engagement and conflict. Multiple voices resonate through each chorus, all of whom call for a return to a more familiar place.

 “Respect” (1965)

Written by soul singer Otis Redding for use by another artist on the Stax label, Redding chose to include his version of the work on his 1965 Stax release Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul. The song “Respect” was originally conceived of as a down-tempo ballad, its speaker a male addressing a female; Aretha Franklin’s 1967 rendition became not only an important statement to leaders of civil rights in the 1960s, but also to the feminist movement in the 1970s. The commercial success of Redding and Franklin’s versions were important as ‘crossover’ hits for both artists, achieving high placement both on Billboard’s R&B and popular music sales charts.

I ain’t gonna do you wrong while you’re gone/ain’t gonna do you wrong cause I don’t wanna

All I’m askin’ is for a little respect/when you come home baby

I’m about to give you all my money/but all I’m askin’ in return, honey/is to give me my propers

When you get home (Redding, 1965).

 With direct statement, the speaker demands from listeners adequate representation: an opportunity to be heard. Establishing the fair exchange of money and faithfulness for attention and honesty, the sparse lyrics describe an equality between individuals, a parity and simplicity of request (“all I want you to do for me/is give it to me”). The song climaxes in the spelling out of its theme (“R-E-S-P-E-C-T”). 

 “For What It’s Worth” (1966)

In mid-1966, the group Buffalo Springfield—which included Stephen Stills, Jim Messina, Richie Furay, and Neil Young—took a gig as the house band at the popular Whisky a Go Go club in Los Angeles. In response to the growing populations of young people lingering on neighborhood streets before and after frequenting the music clubs, municipalities passed ordinances that included a strict 10:00pm curfew, and law enforcement strictly upheld the new rules. Stephen Stills wrote the song “For What It’s Worth” after attending a rally, held on November 12, 1966 at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Crescent Heights, that drew over one-thousand participants (including celebrities Jack Nicholson and Peter Fonda) in protest against the new curfews. The first public performance of the song came on Thanksgiving night 1966, at the Whisky a Go Go, and the group recorded a studio version on December 5^th; by March 1967, the song had reached the Billboard top ten; its popularity has, through rebroadcast and new interpretation by scores of artists, accelerated since its release decades ago. 

Paranoia strikes deep/into your life it will creep

It starts when you’re always afraid/step outa line, the man come and take you away

Stop now, what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s goin’ down (Stills, 1966).  

This vision, of conflict between individuals and the systems of representation within which citizens are conscripted, promotes a heightened awareness of one’s environment; the necessity of one’s receptive skills comes alongside the world’s cruelty (“nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong”). The fear and ‘paranoia’ with which one may approach an unknown individual or group’s expectation (“what a field day for the heat/a thousand people in the street/singin’ songs and a-carryin’ signs/mostly sayin’ hooray for our side”) becomes apparent, as the repeated chorus beckons the listener to auditory and visual observation.  The listeners (referred to as “children”) are invited directly to “stop […] everybody look.”

        

“Both Sides, Now” (1967)

Songwriter Joni Mitchell wrote “Both Sides, Now” after reading Saul Bellow’s novel Henderson the Rain King; Judy Collins’ recording of the song, made shortly following Mitchell’s composition, became a major commercial success in the United States, winning a Grammy in 1968 for Best Folk Performance. Mitchell included her own version on her debut release, Clouds, in 1969, an album that won a Grammy for Best Folk Album in 1970; through a series of albums in the 1970s, Mitchell would become an important and defining performer and composer in popular music. The song became a popular cover for many musicians during the late 1960s, including Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Dion, Robert Goulet, and others.

Bows and flows of angel hair/and ice cream castles in the air

And feather canyons everywhere/I’ve looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun/they rain and snow on everyone

So many things I could have done/but clouds got in the way (Mitchell, 1969).

Mitchell’s fanciful and childlike description extends across three verses, each describing a specific framework (“I’ve looked at [clouds, love, and life] that way”). Through elements including fairy tales, “dreams and schemes and circus crowds,” and “illusions” that pervade each chorus, the individual voice characterizes their environment through disconnection (“now old friends are acting strange”), humor (“you leave them laughing as you go”), stopping short of full regret (“so many things I could have done”). The representation of the individual becomes critical, as the speaker’s identification of distinct and unique interactions with the world exterior to their vision. The acceptance of “both sides now” comes through the suspension of one’s professed knowledge, and a professed submission to a larger wealth of understanding: “I really don’t know” clouds, love, and life “at all.” 

“Happiness is a Warm Gun” (1968)

Following their 1967 pilgrimage to India, seeking spiritual enlightenment alongside a group of famous friends, the Beatles returned to EMI’s Abbey Road studios, to continue work on what would become referred to as “the white album,” for its minimalist packaging. According to interviews with Lennon, conducted by Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner in 1970, the song’s title derived from a magazine producer George Martin shared with the songwriter: “I just thought it was a fantastic, insane thing to say. A warm gun means you just shot something” (Wenner, 2001). Lennon’s fascination with the magazine’s destructive sentiment developed into a song characterized by fragmentation, odd time signatures, a “rare example of polyrhythm in The Beatles’ catalogue” (Wikipedia, 2012) and a progression through themes of dependence, autonomy, and one’s own abilities of perception and understanding. While this song was understandably not received as a popular music hit, the Beatles’ 1968 double-album remains one of the greatest-selling albums in the history of recorded popular music.

She’s not a girl who misses much/she’s well acquainted with the touch of a velvet hand

Like a lizard on a windowpane/a soap impression of his wife which he ate and donated

To the national trust […] I need a hit ‘cause I’m goin’ down (The Beatles, 1968).

Across four segments, “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” establishes a tragically weak sense of connection between individuals and the society within which they participate. In section one, a blizzard of bizarre images render the landscape inconceivable; section two establishes the speaker’s desperate need (of a “hit/’cause I’m goin’ down”); section three, the shortest, in which the lyric “mother superior jumped the gun” is repeated thrice; section four contains the work’s broad, sing-a-long chorus, including carefully-placed background vocals, reminiscent of vocal arrangements found in American pop music of the 1950s (“bang bang/shoot shoot”). Seeking to create an absurd environment within which voices may seek to find their original and unique contextualization, the Beatles’ “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” serves as an example of representation of the individual in a postmodern, and violent, world.

“Can’t Find My Way Home” (1969)

Written by keyboardist Steve Winwood after joining the supergroup Blind Faith in late 1968, the song “Can’t Find My Way Home” appeared on the band’s only release, the self-titled Blind Faith in 1969. As Cream—featuring Blind Faith bandmembers Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker—had experienced immense commercial success, Polydor Records fully supported the group’s efforts in the recording studio, and heavily promoted their international tour in 1969. The only album by Blind Faith quickly became #1 on the Billboard Pop Album sales chart in the week following its release.

Come down off your throne and leave your body ‘lone/somebody must change

You are the reason I’ve been waiting so long/somebody holds the key

Well I’m weary and I just ain’t got the time/and I’m wasted and

I can’t find my way home (Blind Faith, 1969).

Two verse and chorus structures comprise this complex ballad. Winwood’s lyrical intention—to draw closer both listener and speaker—is accomplished through direct invitation (“you are the reason I’ve been waiting all these years”) and the promise of another’s company, however incapacitated (the speaker is “weary,” “just ain’t got the time,” and “wasted”). Like other tracks on the Blind Faith album, the “key” is a recurring theme: of knowledge unleashed, an access refreshed.

“In The Ghetto” (1969)

Written by Mac Davis specifically for use by Elvis Presley, “In the Ghetto” was released as a 45rpm in April of 1969—months prior to the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival in upstate New York. While having helped pioneer a revolution in popular music’s ability to serve as a new venue for the representation of individuals, Presley (the “King of Rock and Roll”) sought throughout the late 1960s to remain relevant and commercially successful. His extensive movie career completed, his 1968 television “Comeback” special, in which he donned a black leather jacket and pants, may have only served to reinforce his cultural antiquity: much of his topical music had remained at a great distance from the revolutions in civil rights and representation, that were taking place in the streets and elsewhere in the United States. Originally titled “The Vicious Cycle,” Presley experienced renewed commercial success and regained the public’s attention through his recording of “In the Ghetto,” recorded at American Sound Studios in Memphis.

As the snow flies/on a cold and gray Chicago morn another little baby child is born/in the ghetto

People don’t you understand/the child needs a helping hand/or he’ll grow to be

An angry young man one day/take a look at you and me/are we to blind to see? (Presley, 1969).

“In the Ghetto” represents a tradition of storytelling in popular recorded music, perhaps best characterized by the spoken-word narratives released in country and western music in the 1950s. The tragedy of underrepresented children is made apparent, as the lyrics describe a child born to deplorable conditions, raised in need (“and his hunger burns/so he starts to roam the streets at night/and he learns how to steal”), and killed senselessly (“one night in desperation/a young man breaks away”). Other images include a crying mother, a child being born, and the repeated urban landscape (“a cold and gray Chicago mornin’”). Listeners are repeatedly challenged by the song’s chorus, and nearly accused of ignorance (“do we simply turn our heads/and look the other way?”), before ending with a refrain, of new birth and the rediscovery of the human potential for compassion.

Country Joe and the Fish’s “Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag” (1967)

Written by songwriter Joe McDonald in 1965, for inclusion on his group’s debut recording in 1967, “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-To-Die Rag” appeared as well on the 1970 soundtrack album of the film Woodstock, a documentary of the famous 1969 music and arts festival, at which Joe McDonald delivered a solo performance of the song. This live rendition of the song—preceded by his leading the mammoth crowd in an expletive-laced cheer—may be the most well-known recorded version. While his band, Country Joe and the Fish, experienced only moderate commercial success, the “[…] Fixin’-to-Die Rag” never garnered record label’s support as a 45rpm single (the only song in this collection to bear this distinction). Following renewed public interest in the song following the release of the Woodstock film soundtrack, songwriter Pete Seeger recorded a version he intended for single release, but failed to find support from disc jockeys or record labels.

Come on, Wall Street, don’t be slow/why, man, this is war—a go go

There’s plenty good money to be made/supplyin’ the army with the tools of the trade

Just hope and pray that if we drop the bomb/we drop it on the Viet Cong (McDonald, 1969).

Through overstatement and parody, McDonald’s bleak characterization of the individual’s compulsory interactions and submission to the military-industrial complex is made clear, across four verses and a repeated chorus (“what are we fightin’ for? Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn”). Verse one is an ironic call to action (“Uncle Sam needs your help again/he’s got himself in a terrible jam”); verse two addresses world leaders, and assumes their propensity to violence (“your big chance is here at last/gotta go out and get those reds/cause the only good commie is one that’s dead”); verse three speaks directly to “Wall Street,” and those individuals and corporations who may reap economic benefits from military escalations and conflict; verse four paints parents’ sense of status in a morose reality (“be the first one on your block to have your boy come home in a box”). The chorus is blatant in its message, and seeks to infer or instill no meaning into the sole action—death-- being described (“there ain’t no time to wonder why”).  

 

Click here to view the Songs of Representation and Protest 1965-1970 playlist on YouTube (opens in a new window)!

Works Cited

Beach Boys, The. (2011). Pet Sounds. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Capitol.

Beatles, The. (1968). The Beatles. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Apple/EMI.

Berger, D. and Peterson, R. (1975). “Cycles in Music Production: the Case of Popular Music.” American Sociological Review, 40, 2, p. 158-173.

Blind Faith. (1969). Blind Faith. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Polydor.

Buffalo Springfield. (1966). Buffalo Springfield. [vinyl sound recording]. Los Angeles, CA: Atco.

Dylan, B. (1965). Bringing It All Back Home. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Columbia.

McDonald, J. (1969). “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-To-Die Rag.” Woodstock [vinyl soundtrack recording]. New York, NY: Arista.

Mitchell, J. (1969). Clouds. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Reprise.

Presley, E. (1969). From Elvis in Memphis. [vinyl sound recording]. Camden, NJ: RCA.

Redding, O. (1965). Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul. [vinyl sound recording]. New York, NY: Atlantic.

Rich, A. (2001). Arts of the Possible. New York, NY: Norton.

Wenner, J. (2001). Lennon Remembers. New York, NY: Verso.

Wikipedia. (2012). “Happiness Is a Warm Gun.” Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Happiness_Is_a_Warm_Gun