‘And Gaze Into Your Eyes . . .’

 by whiteray

There’s a question I get a lot when folks new to my life realize the amount of time and energy and money I invest in music. I mean, consider: 1,000 LPs, 1,500 CDs, bookshelves sagging with reference books and biographies, and an external hard drive with more than 100,000 mp3s, 82,000 of them tagged and indexed. 

And they ask me, “Well, what’s your favorite record?” 

It’s not that easy. Are we talking LP or single track? And if single track, are we talking about an album track or a tune that was released as a single, either as a 45 or a CD single or maybe just as a digital file? Or should I answer by talking about the vintage music that pops up when I listen to tunes at random, the music that was released on 78s in the years – roughly – from the early 1900s to about 1950. 

And no matter which of those we might be talking about, are we talking about a favorite, a track that I like emotionally? Or are you asking me about some sort of critical assessment, a best record? Those are two different things, especially when it comes to albums. And it’s always hard to sort things down to one specific record. So when that question comes up, I generally answer with a list. And if it’s a list of, say, ten favorite albums, the answer will change from time to time, as my mood at the time (and sheer forgetfulness) will bring out new combinations. 

Ask me about my five favorite singles, though, and – after years of thought and listening – you’ll generally get the same five time after time. They all come from the same era (1966-72), four of them from the years I call my sweet spot. I love all five of them, and although I won’t say they are the best five singles of all time, I can say the craft they exhibit is at least equal to their emotional impact. 

We’ll deal with those singles one at a time over five weeks. 

First up is “Cherish” by the Association. This 1966 single was so powerful to me that it broke into my consciousness at a time when my musical interests were still mostly limited to trumpeters Al Hirt and Herb Alpert and the soundtrack work of John Barry. It’s a sad song, as the narrator knows that he will never have the one he loves. Consider the second verse: 

Perish is the word that more than applies
To the hope in my heart each time I realize
That I am not gonna be the one to share your dreams
That I am not gonna be the one to share your schemes
That I am not gonna be the one to share what seems
To be the life that you could cherish
As much as I do yours

The record went to No. 1 (Billboard) in September 1966, not long after I’d turned thirteen. Veteran of several unrewarded crushes at the time, I somehow knew, despite my limited experience, that what the narrator was dealing with was many times worse. A few years later, I learned I was right, and many years later, in a memoir, I described the narrator’s feelings as “one part bliss, two parts agony.” 

I still remember how it felt.