What a crazy-ass old pop record...I cant stop playing it. Glenda Collins was a Brit Invasion-era bird who couldnt catch a break sales-wise, despite recording dozens of tracks under the hoodoo eye of producer Joe Meek, the certifiably, even murderously insane impresario behind hits like Telstar and Have I the Right. Consequently, there was always a something a tad twisted about even her most mainstreamy confections...and this pounding stomper doesnt even pretend for a second to wanna hold your hand. Glenda abandons the pleading teen persona of other sides here, adopting an assertive attitude that suggests shell brook no debate from the folks regarding her attendance at that party shes been invited to. It doesnt take long before the double-tracked lead vocal develops a split personality, and the already highly irregular backing vocals start to swell into something downright unsettling. By the time we reach the 1:20 mark, it sounds like some kind of Eyes Wide Shut black mass going on back there, while the drummer wigs out and the guitar solo (by Ritchie Blackmore, later of Deep Purple!) goes way beyond what was generally considered appropriate for such slabs of commerce. Our Glenda doesnt so much fade into the sunset as latch onto a moving rocket-sled in the final seconds, tossing off some diva histrionics that make me pine for the discovery, someday, of a nine or ten-minute version of this dingus...
Posted on: Tue, 26 Nov 2013 09:04:55 +0000
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