Those responsible for the cover art of the notable psychedelic pop records of the 1960s had it right. So accurately would they adorn their subjects that one could merely walk into a record store, see them on the shelf and know what to expect. For example, let’s review the following:
The Zombies’ Odyssey and Oracle – a psyche-collage of romantics through the ages The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s – a visceral cabaret of life, day-glo, death, and fashion Love’s Forever Changes -- a cerebral parade
The Association’s And Then Along Comes The Association is a similar member of that proud tradition. On its cover we find six men clad in respectable, matching suits writhing with their arms in the air like a Kesey experiment, all amid a murky, green composition. Based on this depiction, you might expect to find some fine, auditorium quality pop with an undercurrent of psychedelia; which, upon hearing, you’d fine you were correct on all counts.
Rising from the early-mid '60s LA folk scene, The Association sought to expand their sound by incorporating elements of rock, jazz, and blues into their music. “Along Comes Mary,” the record’s lead single, does just that, fusing a garage-quality backbeat with three-part vocal harmonies. The other hit off the record, “Cherish,” works in a similar vein. If you don't recognize “Cherish” by title it's because the track has merged with your subconscious through decades of appearances in film soundtracks and prom themes. These hits, while nice enough, aren’t the most interesting aspects of this album. The Addrisi brothers’ collaboration, “Don’t Blame it On Me,” would have little trouble finding a place on Pet Sounds with its mourning of a young romantic relationship. Its stunning backing vocals woo and shape the song into a beautiful ode, while “Message of Our Love” sweeps forth with similar gusto.
These moments aside, it’s clear, after even a single listen, that The Association give us nothing new in the way of theme or sound. The voices of either the lonely or fulfilled suitor are steadily and unsurprisingly used throughout, and the music follows the well-worn paths of sunshine and psychedelic pop music. Where the record succeeds, however, is in its ability to articulate emotions through simple harmonies. They're so precise that they convey hope (“Enter the Young”), celebration (“Message of Our Love”), futility (“Don’t Blame it One Me”), and regret (“Remember”), by simply altering Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba lines.
The Association would never create a record as stirring as The Beatles, as catchy as The Beach Boys, or as affecting as Love. With the benefit of time it seems their best contributions lay in the creation of a handful of rousing songs and for solidifying an established genre. Their billing at the inaugural 1967 Monterey Pop Festival (which became a template for music festivals to this day) is a testament to this latter notion. Perhaps too high a price is placed onto innovation while not enough is given to those musicians who merely carry the torch. For the sake of 1960s psychedelic pop rockers The Association, they carried the torch while creating some memorable anthems along the way.
