1. Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs – Wooly Bully. This song barely even exists, there’s so little to it — just an endlessly repeated riff that reminds me of the Surfaris’ “Wipe Out,” incomprehensible vocal interjections as sparse as a Count Basie piano solo, clattering pots-and-pans drumming, a blues progression and a generic rock ‘n’ roll sax solo.  It’s OK, but as minimalist garage rock goes, it’s got nothing on “96 Tears” by ? and the Mysterians.

2. The Four Tops – I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch). Before now, the only Four Tops song I’d heard was “Reach Out (I’ll Be There).”  I like that one a lot — I find the switching between major and minor in the chorus really evocative — but I’m not really feeling this one.  The production and arrangement are claustrophobic and overblown, with piano, jangly guitar, drums, some kind of mallet percussion, strings and backup vocals all competing with the lead vocal and often almost overwhelming it.  When things finally let up, with lead singer Levi Stubbs singing “When I call your name / Girl, it starts the flame” over nothing but a low piano riff and an occasional hi-hat, it’s a big relief.  I guess that makes it an effective dramatic moment, but it’s effective in a “Why are you hitting your head against the wall?” “Because it feels so good when I stop” kind of way.  (Incidentally, this is also how I feel about a lot of John Adams’s orchestration.)

3. The Rolling Stones – (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. I never thought of the Rolling Stones as minimalist (in the pop sense, not the John Adams sense) before, but this is really almost as stripped-down and single-minded as “Wooly Bully.”  Honestly, I find it pretty boring, although Mick Jagger’s high register in the chorus has a certain unexpected seductive quality.  I don’t know whether I’m just not in the right mood or what, but I’m not getting a lot out of 1965 so far.  Give me the DEVO cover any day, babybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby.

4. We Five – You Were On My Mind. OK, 1965 is officially redeemed.  The opening of “You Were On My Mind” is everything “I Can’t Help Myself” isn’t, texturally speaking:  it opens with just the drums, then adds a bouncy staccato bassline, and when the vocals first enter, that’s all there is underneath them.  When the guitars enter during the first refrain, they appear in isolated bursts, an icon of a guitar part more than an actual guitar part, like the “shoo-bop-shoo-bop” backing vocals in the Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes For You.”  And the whole song is built like this:  rather than cycling through the same materials over and over again, it’s always introducing new elements and moving forward.  When the refrain returns, the guitar bursts are reinvented as sharp, loud, out-of-tune timbral attacks.  When the opening lyrics return, the whole group bursts in with ecstatic vocal harmonies, and suddenly we get an abrupt, startling key change and bluesy guitar riffs in the background.  And at the end, it’s suddenly Attack of the Jangle Guitars — for just two measures, and then the song stops.  The whole thing has a DIY, almost punkish quality, like an early, lo-fi version of Blondie.  And on top of that, it’s crammed with minor mediant chords, which as I’ve mentioned before, I always like.  P.S.  If anyone can figure out who Beverly Bivens sounds exactly like when she sings “whoa-oo-oh,” let me know, because it’s driving me crazy.  

(Edit, nine months later:  she sounds like Russell Mael from Sparks!  WTF?)

5. The Righteous Brothers – You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’. What a great, thoroughly 60s opening!  A mixolydian melody that’s one part Jefferson Airplane and one part Marvin Gaye;  Bill Medley’s deep, soulful, eerie vocals;  tambourines and I think a harpsichord.  I also love how distant and muted the backup singers sound when they interrupt Medley and complete his sentence:  ”You’re trying hard not to show it / (baby)…”   Great bridge too, accompanied at first only by bass and vibraphone.  Overall I have to admit that the song is a bit diffuse, and Bobby Hatfield’s wild-and-crazy vocals don’t appeal to me the way Medley’s do, but it foreshadows the end of the decade better than anything to crack the top five so far.

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