“Lovin’ You” is my pick from the LP | Lovin’ Spoonful – ‘The Hums Of Lovin’ Spoonful’ (Kama Sutra KLP-8054) December 1966

Article published in Crawdaddy!, March 1967

Hums of the Lovin’ Spoonful, with few notable exceptions, finds the Spoonful still poised in their now familiar groove somewhere between the folk music jug band revival and the electric explorations of the New Music.

The mixture is nothing if not lovable, but after three albums, one begins to wish for a little more progress, a bit more incisiveness , within that groove – in short, for something more than the perfect paper valentine.

At a time when so many talented rock groups are moving forward with such incredible speed and inventiveness, the Spoonful, with not unsimilar aspirations, seem to be caught in a delightful little circle; thus far, most of their attempts to break out have fallen far short of their ability to do so. Indeed, a cardinal rule concerning the Spoonful would seem to be: talent exceeds oeuvre.

The Lovin’ Spoonful | Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful | (Kama Sutra) 1966

This is especially regrettable because the Spoonful – for all the obvious reasons of wit, good musicianship, colour, and awesome potential – clearly deserve their position in the frontispiece of American rock. It is just that they should be so much better than they are.

“Summer in the City” carried them right up to the brink of profundity (greatness, if you will), but somehow, like Melville’s Bartleby, they prefer not to. Instead of taking the leap to a new level of daring alternative, they have simply become more and more professional at standing pat.

What is agonizing here is that all of their potential – and what group has more? – all of that sun-splashed, soft, lazy, hazy, and very American vision of the world around them, has not deepened into anything more solid.

Instead, it has remained, even within its own terms, something excessively vague and undefined, modestly pleasant but never quite coming into any real power or focus. Where, other than in “Summer in the City,” is the Second Act?

Other folk-oriented groups , notably the now defunct Holy Modal Rounders, achieved an almost clinical modern clarity while adhering even more strictly to good-time material, but the Spoonful, it seems, would rather dissolve than evolve.

The Lovin’ Spoonful | Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful | (Kama Sutra) 1966

But do not understand me too quickly. I am not arguing, as I seem to be, that “immobility” is in itself a necessarily bad thing for an artist at a certain point in his career. Not at all. It is simply a question of timing.

It is too easy to confuse “immobility” with maturity, and the two stand at opposite ends of the scale. For example: Bob Dylan and the Beatles have reached such a plateau with their songwriting that no one could be alarmed if they never again made radical changes in their styles (a highly unlikely proposition) but chose instead to explore more fully all of the genres they had already created.

But the Spoonful are a different case entirely. They seem to have stopped, as it were, before they really got started; and thus far anyway, their achievements , which are not inconsiderable, do not qualify them for any sort of immunity from normal artistic growth.

‘Hums’ is a good and enjoyable record, but its eleven songs do not add up to anything near the major statement that we expect and usually get today from our major groups. “Lovin’ You,” which starts side one, is incessantly ordinary albeit “nice.” It has the typical Spoonful sound: catchy ricky-tick guitars, a hiccupping and infectious rhythm, plenty of over-all warmth and good will. But the lyrics are a little more complex than they at first seem to be, and the song builds well to a pleasing climax.

The Lovin’ Spoonful | Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful | (Kama Sutra) 1966

“Best Friends” and “Voodoo in My Basement” have less luck; they seem to be casual experiments that somehow don’t work. “Friends,” which sounds like more fun than it is, attempts an ambitious instrumental coupling of early Dixieland jazz headed by clarinet to an intensely mechanical calliope-music box-merry-go-round sound full of thumping bass and tuba.

The vocal adds a curious and broad Hoagy Carmichael touch to what sounds like the theme song from some riverboat gambler movie. Unfortunately, the words are nothing, and “Friends” never progresses from brilliant idea to capable realization.

“Voodoo” is pseudo-R&B: a lot of bamboo drumming and spooky falsetto singing that total a mildly amusing tempest in a teapot.

“Darlin’ Companion” and “Henry Thomas” are both very folky; the former a highly successful and fast-moving evocation of Carter Family sentimentality, and the latter a wild parody-tribute – complete with pan pipes, jew harp and banjo – to the folk composer of “Fishing Blues,” one of the Spoonful’s favorite songs.

Artistically, they are probably the most fully realized songs on side one, a fact which raises no optimism from this corner.

The heavy piano and organ intro to “Full Measure” signals both “soul” and significance, a promise which only the very complex and beautiful instrumental arrangement manages to keep; the words are rather nice and moving, but finally seem more rote than right (“The feeling of giving/It’s as good as I’m getting from you”). Once again, we are handed the well-trimmed artificial heart when nothing but the real thing will do.

The Lovin’ Spoonful | Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful | (Kama Sutra) 1966

“Rain on the Roof,” the first song on side two, is the Spoonful “formula” polished to a very high gloss. The breathy quality of the vocals, very close, contrasts nicely to the green-spring-grass feel of the zinging strings. It’s a tapestry, a contemporary olde ballade, a New Wave film; lightweight, it’s still first-rate.

“Coconut Grove,” an attempt at a “big” and intimate mood song replete with Brechtian introspection and desert imagery, doesn’t come off at all. Digging for depth, trying for immersion into the soul of a good melody, the group comes up embarrassingly empty-handed All we get is the attempt: no mood and no introspection.

If “Coconut Grove” is amateurish, “Nashville Cats,” the new hit single, is sheer professionalism, with every naive C&W gulp tucked securely into place: Roger Miller filtered through a new Spoonful bag, if not a new direction. But it’s an appealing tribute and good fun, although perhaps a trifle too “cute.”

“4 Eyes” is the flip side of the coin, a hard-rock Dylanesque put-down number, not too successful, too slick literally and too obvious symbolically, that nonetheless gives indication that the group can, on occasion, say in no uncertain terms, “Fuck you!”

The song is too slight to really work, but it’s an interesting cut and adds some much needed salt to all that sugar. I admire a group that can say, “Fuck you.”

The Lovin’ Spoonful | Hums Of The Lovin’ Spoonful | (Kama Sutra) 1966

And, of course, “Summer in the City,” with its slams of sound, screaming steam drills, automobile horns, et al – really the only major song on the album, but a song so major that its inclusion makes the album something of an event.

Textually, musically, intellectually and emotionally, it paints a real picture of just what its title implies, no mean feat for a pop song well under three minutes long. For once, both the lyrics and the arrangement are brilliant at the same time, and the song stands as a genuine classic of the New Music.

Such is not the case with ‘Hums of the Lovin’ Spoonful’. In retrospect, only second echelon adjectives – “good,” “pleasant,” “nice,” etc. – will do.

I for one can’t object very strenuously to the warmth and fun of ‘Hums’, one can’t really get very enthusiastic about it either. And one should be able to get very enthusiastic about the Lovin’ Spoonful.

PAUL NELSON