Charlie RIch, "I Can't Go On" c/w "Dance of Love," Smash S-2102 (rel. 11/1965)

 

Charlie Rich had made records since 1957 without much to show in the success column. His third single for Sam Phillips’ Phillips International label, “Lonely Weekends,” became a #22 pop hit in 1960. Rich’s subsequent singles for Sam Phillips didn’t chart, despite their uniform high quality. A brief stay at RCA Victor, where Rich was a misfit in producer Chet Atkins’ system, failed to yield any hits.
    In 1965, Rich signed with Mercury’s Smash Records imprint, which had recently added fellow Memphian Jerry Lee Lewis to its roster. Rich had his second hit with “Mohair Sam,” a song by Dallas Frazier, just missed the national pop Top 20 in the summer of 1965. Though it’s probably the best-known of his earlier recordings, it wasn’t his song, and Rich was a formidable composer. By the mid-1960s, his musical style was a fusion of pop, jazz and country with soulful leanings. There seemed no place the singer/songwriter couldn’t go—except up the hit lists.
    Smash made an adventurous choice for Rich’s follow-up to “Mohair Sam.” They chose two tracks from the LP recorded in support of the hit—both Rich originals. They might have pushed “Dance of Love,” a more commercial, swinging record, for the A side. They relegated it to the B and made one of Rich’s most ambitious, heart-breaking songs, “I Can’t Go On,” the plug side. This act of bravery went unrewarded and ignored. None of the music biz magazines reviewed it; the only mentions in Billboard, Cash Box or Record World are of the single being played by some prominent deejays. Their plays got the record up to a miserable #132 on the Billboard charts—not so much bubbling under the Hot 100 as drowning in its depths.
    “I Can’t Go On” may be Charlie Rich’s masterpiece. It’s an operatic, multi-themed song that pushes the boundaries of what pop music was in one of its most fertile years. It opens with tense, low-register piano and a chord progression that announces unrest and angst. Rich’s voice raises from a near-confessional tone to an evangelical wail as the song builds to its explosive chorus. Its account of a man shackled by memories of a broken relationship and unable to put one foot in front of the other is powerfully assayed by Rich, whose voice never sounded better.
    With strong support from Nashville session cats, a pounding Motown-ish beat on the chorus sections and a harmony vocal that may be the singer’s wife Margaret, “I Can’t Go On” is on the level of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’,” producer Phil Spector’s 1965 masterpiece. Both songs inhabit the same emotional territory, and perhaps hitsville wasn’t big enough to contain two songs of this intensity. Both are great songs, but I think Rich’s has the edge. This comes from an unplayed 1965 stock copy which I’ve left raw. You may hear a few minor surface flaws, but this is how it sounds au naturel.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/gk1q08t5nphwe91zr6tdg/2293a.mp3?rlkey=47r5tnuoi6kumo0fvwkqvsspg&st=mcjzwjbk&dl=0

“Dance of Love” might have been a safer bet for a hit single.  With a driving, bluesy melody reminiscent of Rosco Gordon’s “Just a Little Bit” and a strong rhythm section in support of the singer, this soulful wailer is another musical powerhouse. Rich’s familiar twists and turns as a melodist imbue the song with personality, and its big, loud sound is crisp and impressive.
    Producer Jerry Kennedy may have been the best Charlie Rich ever had; Rich’s Smash material outshines his Memphis recordings for Sam Phillips, excellent as those are. Rich had really found himself as a singer and composer now; he could make a song like this, which is a trifle, into something special.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/t9shvd2382kwyywl8chxd/2293b.mp3?rlkey=x7hklz2r5g71fi11pbg0baxuw&st=8zzzoj3n&dl=0

Smash kept Rich on for 1965 and ’66. They released two LPs, both excellent, and a string of flop singles. Rich moved to Memphis label Hi Records, where he continued to record superb soul-pop-country that didn’t sell. He then moved to Columbia’s Epic imprint, where he became a country artist and finally had major hits starting with 1972’s “I Take it On Home.” He re-recorded some of his Smash and Phillips International material in this period as Shelby Singleton, who owned Sun’s catalog, flooded the market with deceptively titled LP compilations of his earliest music. (Mercury did the same with the Smash material, as did RCA Victor with theirs.)
    Rich’s final moment of glory was with his last album, 1991’s Pictures and Paintings, recorded at Sam Phillips’ studio in Memphis and comprised of 11 intense, expressive recordings that were his farewell to the world of music. He retired and died of a pulmonary embolism while traveling in the Deep South in 1995 at age 62.
    Our highest recommendation goes to Ace UK's 2011 CD It Ain't Gonna Be That Way: The Complete Smash Sessions, which gathers the 29 tracks Rich recorded for Smash Records at the peak of his abilities. It's among my favorite CD collections and it deserves a place in yours.

Tomorrow: Tommy Roe's backup band The Roemen step out on a quirky 1964 Beatles-in-the-garage ABC-Paramount platter. Two songs penned by UK pop star Marty Wilde, with possible backroom elements involved.