5 1960s pop hits that should be permanently retired

“Cherish is the word I use to describe
All the feelings that I have hiding here for you inside.”

The opening line of “Cherish,” a top chart hit by the Association in 1966, may not be an exceptional lyric to some listeners, including myself.

Such language isn’t casual or natural. It wouldn’t be used when talking to a close friend. However, exceptional songwriters often use everyday language effectively.

Poets such as Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen shifted towards a more casual, conversational style. You wouldn’t hear them saying something like “Cherish in the term I employ to describe…” It sounds more like an awkwardly worded Jeopardy! clue instead.

Five truly awful hits from the 1960s

Originally penned by Terry Kirkman, who was a vocalist for The Association, ‘Cherish’ ranked as the seventh most popular song of 1966 according to Billboard. Despite this, I have chosen not to include it in my upcoming list of less-than-stellar hits from the 1960s because, to be honest, I don’t find it particularly bad.

When a tune plays on the radio during my drive, I usually change the station in pursuit of something more appealing. However, it’s unlikely that my first thought would be “I need to flee in terror from this song.

This is referred to as the “radio test”. For some younger individuals, the idea of a car radio might seem old-fashioned, similar to cotillions or the engraving on the Statue of Liberty. However, if you’re of a certain generation, you can relate. A tune plays, and your mind goes through one of three possibilities:

This is awesome
I think I can do better or…
I could not possibly do any worse.

In two of the situations presented, you might find yourself tuning to a different radio station. Today, we’ll delve into tunes that perfectly fit scenario number three. These tracks must have made it big, as per the Billboard Top 100 of their release year. Moreover, they need to be so catchy and appealing that they prompt you to change the station immediately.

“Little Children” by Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas (1964)

Billy J. Kramer was among the initial recipients of the generosity shown by The Beatles. He achieved several chart-toppers in the early ’60s, with Lennon/McCartney compositions being his most successful, such as “Do You Want to Know a Secret” from 1963.

The next year saw him venturing off on his own, releasing a song he co-wrote with renowned Brill Building songwriter Mort Shuman titled “Little Children”. This track ranked as the 18th most popular song on Billboard’s chart in 1964.

The lyrics, though ultimately benign, are about as creepy as a pop song can get.

As a fan, I’d put it like this: “Little ones, please don’t reveal what you’ve witnessed,

And if you behave well, I’ll treat you with some sweets and a quarter,

As long as you remain silent, just as you should be.

Keep this secret between us.

It turns out that the singer is trying to keep the children from revealing his actions of kissing their older sister, which raises suspicions that it might be something more serious. The music, with its childish tune yet heavy mood, only adds to this unsettling feeling. This song is one I’d prefer not to listen to again.

“Last Kiss” by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers (1964)

There’s a well-established trend in popular music that involves composing songs about one’s lover passing away. Some of these tracks can evoke deep emotions, while others might not resonate as strongly with listeners.

In pop music, there is a common theme where artists write songs about their loved ones passing away. While some of these songs can tug at the heartstrings, others may not have the same emotional impact on people.

1961 saw Wayne Cochran’s recording of this melancholic/emotional ballad about a deceased lover. However, it was J. Frank Wilson who turned it into a chart-topping sensation a few years afterwards. This song ended up in the top ten for the entire year. It boasts a catchy tune, characterized by its jazzy snare and ethereal background vocals that seem to be singing from above (perhaps symbolizing angels), as Wilson croons…

“Where oh where can my baby be? – The lord took her away from me.”

… and promises to live a clean (celibate?) life so that can be worthy of her one day in heaven.

The tune delves deeply into the specifics of his death, and Wilson raises the pitch to emphasize the gravity of his feelings.

As I mentioned earlier, these types of tunes can be excellent or less than impressive. In the same year, The Shangri-Las achieved a significant success with “Leader of the Pack.” On the other hand, Richard Thompson’s “Vincent Black Lightning 1952” is considered one of the greatest acoustic guitar songs ever penned. Tragically, the male characters in both songs meet their end, but they do so in motorcycle accidents – a seemingly more appealing demise in the realm of rock music.

Perhaps “Last Kiss” could have benefited from a more serious delivery to balance its heavy theme. Eddie Vedder, with his powerful voice and emotional range, would be ideal for this song. If you’re connected with Pearl Jam on Instagram, you might consider suggesting they give “Last Kiss” a try as a cover.

“Sweet Pea” by Tommy Roe (1966)

Before the British invasion, Tommy Roe’s brand of pop-rock was quite enjoyable, as demonstrated by his hit “Sheila” from 1962. Despite its slightly stiff and juvenile vocals, I find myself appreciating the song.

Two years from now, Roe finds himself crooning a love ballad about a girl who holds the most cringe-worthy moniker in modern pop music. The tune is irritatingly catchy, and the keyboard accompaniment has a grating quality reminiscent of a dentist’s drill.

However, Roe didn’t limit his success with “Sweet Pea.” After achieving great popularity in the USA, he released another song titled “Hooray for Hazel,” which is a modern take on the Everly Brothers’ “Cathy’s Clown” – but it’s approximately 67 times less impressive.

Alas, though both songs were hits, the era of Tommy Roe-style pop was at an end.

“Little Green Apples” by O.C. Smith (1968)

When my child was young, we purchased for him an amusing toy known as Pianosaurus. This toy was a small plastic piano modeled after a dinosaur. Most of the keys produced the same sound, which echoed faintly and tinily. Despite its weak quality, it was a children’s toy that brought joy to us all as we playfully pounded on it, imitating Jerry Lee Lewis’s style.

As a music enthusiast, I’ve got a hunch that the legendary producer Jerry Fuller may have employed a pianosaurus to bring life to the keyboard melody in O.C. Smith’s rendition of “Little Green Apples.” However, let me clarify one thing: while Bobby Russell’s composition is delightful and perhaps a bit nostalgic, it’s the unique interpretations that make this song truly special. For instance, Roger Miller’s early version with his soft acoustic guitar strumming borders on the beautiful. Patti Page’s more lively take on it is incredibly endearing as well.

The tune of the song is good, and O.C. Smith demonstrates his vocal prowess well. However, the issue lies in Fuller’s over-the-top arrangement. Not only does it include Pianosaurus, but there’s also a rather irritating high-pitched choir that dominates Smith’s voice throughout. Every time Smith attempts to make the song enjoyable, the orchestration or backup vocals interfere, spoiling the moment.

“Young Girl” by Gary Puckett & the Union Gap (1968)

I didn’t intend to criticize Jerry Fuller. After all, he penned Ricky Nelson’s “Travelin’ Man,” which definitely earns him respect from me. That was back in 1961. However, by the end of the decade, Fuller had transformed into a producer. When he wasn’t busy distorting “Little Green Apples,” he was propelling Gary Puckett & the Union Gap onto the global stage.

Puckett’s band had a theme based on the American Civil War, but their music wasn’t traditional bluegrass or folk. Instead, they were producing typical late ’60s pop songs, primarily written by Fuller. The lyrics often revolved around Puckett’s deep voice and his supposed fascination with young women. However, I must admit, the connection between the Civil War theme and their music remains unclear to me.

It seems to me that Fuller might have been diving in that place since his “Travelin’ Man” days, but it felt less awkward when Ricky Nelson sang it.

In the songs “Young Girl” and its sequel “Lady Willpower,” Puckett (or Fuller) is grappling with a significant ethical dilemma concerning whether to engage romantically or intimately with an inexperienced, presumably young woman. In the second song, her inexperience might be the main factor. However, in the first song, it’s evident that she could be underage.

In a typical manner, he advises her to flee, saying “you’d better get going,” as it goes without saying that, given his status as an older male, she should not trust him in her presence.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m overly conservative or reinterpreting history. There are rock songs that I enjoy, which share questionable themes. For years, I sang Jimmy Buffett’s “Livingston Saturday Night” without realizing the innuendo behind the line “Fifteen may get you twenty, but that’s all right.” However, even after I understood its meaning, I continued to sing it.

However, Puckett and Fuller transform this piece into a rather sentimental and overly dramatic ballad, much like the movie “Little Children.” Sharing a similar discomforting quality, it’s simply not a strong composition.

As a gamer, let me tell you about an awesome tune I stumbled upon: “Along Came Mary,” by The Association. After giving them a bit of a hard time earlier with my lukewarm praise for “Cherish”, I thought it’s only fair to give them some love at the end.

2025-06-26 13:00