like someone shit under a pine tree

"Yes, I detect the distinct aroma of a chemical engineer's approximation of wildflowers...or a burning whitewall tire."
Celebrate the natural while embracing the artificial -- just one of the litany of paradoxes collectively known as "the 1970s." From the simulated wood-grain paneling used to convey an informal "rustic" touch in a split-level ranch home, to the earth-toned (or Mardras and other "old-timey" and nativesque print) polyester fashions, to the plethora of dubiously "natural" aromas hatched in labs and unleashed by a host of household vectors -- there is no shortage of examples illustrating that era's conflicting impulses.

Without discounting how much of this phenomenon was driven from the top down ("Ladies Home Journal says avacado and floral prints are in this year!"), underlying the co-optive marketing trend was a certain degree of ecological awareness filtered through the era's omnipresent accent of self-actualization. Both were holdovers from sixties counterculture ideology that managed to embed themselves in the public consciousness where radical politics and other militant alternatives to the satus quo had failed.

Though the naturalist impulse survived and thrived well into the Me Decade, it mutated into a less virulent strain, as an itch upon the conscience, rather than a pain. As such, it was something that could be easily be salved without resorting to solar powered bunkers made from soda bottles or drastically changing one's habits. Satisfaction of conscience without sacrifices in consumption or comfort was attainable, and even if the means contradicted the ends or the net impact ran into the loss column, it was good enough for most folks. (For a modern example, look at how liberally the terms "green" and "organic" are tossed around by marketers...or just take a quick stroll through any Whole Foods store.)

If I had to choose one aroma that symbolizes the 1970s for me, I'd have to go with the strawberry-scented tree-shaped air fresheners. "Strawberry" is a bit misleading, actually, as the actual scent and flavor of fresh strawberries, like cold fusion, is something that science has yet to sucessfully create under laboratory conditions. They can create a reasonable facsimile of lemon, a passable banana, but when it comes to strawberry, the best they've been able to accomplish is a random guess based on incomplete third-hand accounts.

(Disturbingly enough, when someone describes something as smelling or tasting of strawberries, in nearly every case they mean the artificial version and not the real thing....which applies to a lot of other aromas and flavors as well. Over time, the baseline has been shifted so that the imperfect facsimile has become the definitive standard.)

Cloying, sickly sweet, and as obnoxious as what it proposes to mask, those ubiquitous dashboard fixtures perfectly symbolize the era for me, right down to the iconic evergreen shape that, like the scented oils embedded within, evokes a sense of naturalism fundamentally at odds with its actual origins.

Young Fresh Fellows - Fruitbasket Blues (from Beans and Tolerance, 1989) - No artificial colors, no artificial flavors -- just some hard-to-find, 100% organic Seattle-grown indie rock.

The Buggles - Living in the Plastic Age (from Age of Plastic, 1980) - Everything fake is real again.

everybody has cowlicks to conceal

Sad, but true: As the bright optimistic glare of the Atomic Age dispelled the lingering shadows of noir culture, Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade, the very archetype of the hard boiled detective, found himself reduced to a pitchman for hair care products...

"When a man's supply of pomade is threatened, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference whether it uses a vegetable or mineral oil base."
"When I bury you underneath a dozen cases of Wildroot Cream-Oil^TM, you'll take it and like it. In fact, you love how it adds body to even the limpest locks."
"It smells nice, Sam. What is it?"
"The stuff that dreams -- and damn fine hairstyles -- are made of."

(from Captain Marvel Adventures #91; December 1948)
Hopefully the licensing royalites from the ad helped Dashiell Hammett defray the legal fees stemming from the Civil Rights Congress of New York (of which Hammett was chairperson) being labeled as a communist front organization by the Truman administration in 1947. The group's efforts to raise bail money for accused "subversives" and unwillingness to turn over the names of fund contributors to the government led to Hammett being found in contempt of court. After a similar refusal on his part to cooperate with the House Un-American Activities Committee 1953, Hammett was blacklisted as well.

Quite a way to treat the man who gave the world both The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man, yet there are plenty of folks out there who long for nothing more than a return to that lovely chapter of our history. Grand, ain't it?

You can find a handful of episodes of the old Sam Spade radio show for your downloading and listening enjoyment here. The Maltese Falcon, the 1930 novel featuring Sam Spade, is available (along with The Thin Man) as part of this handsomely-designed omnibus edition of Hammett's works. The equally indispensible 1941 film version can be found (with the racier pre-Code 1931 version and Satan Met a Lady, a 1936 comedic take starring Bette Davis) on this DVD set.

Duran Duran - Watching the Detectives (from Thank You, 1995) - Wonderfully wrong.

Adolph Deutsch - Theme to The Maltese Falcon (from Legendary Film Noir Movies, 2004) - Atmospherically right.

Ray Anthony & His Orchestra - Peter Gunn Theme (from The Ultra-Lounge Sampler, 1996) - A swinging delight.

we like to throw our bodies around

It’s Friday night, a perfect time to cut loose and go crazy. The question is whether to rock out or boogie down. Both are worthy courses of action, which makes for a really tough call.

Then again, who said it has to be an either/or proposition? Not these folks.

Electric Light Orchestra – Shine a Little Love (from Discovery, 1979) – It seems natural that a rock outfit renowned for its string section would dabble in disco, although said section was dropped from the band at the time of Discovery’s release. Dig the use of sound effects lifted from the Galaxian video game, always a plus in my book.

The song feels like it could have been commissioned by NBC to promote its 1979 fall lineup, and I can’t listen to the instrumental parts without envisioning Eric Estrada and Larry Wilcox using their motorcycles to pull a chain of Peacock Dancers on rollerskates across a soundstage while Conrad Bain gives a big “thumbs up” to the camera.

As a side note, ELO frontman Jeff Lynne reminds me of one of my dad’s old fishing buddies. The line “Hey kid, fetch me a beer from the cooler in my van, ok?” would have made the basis of a superb sci-fi concept album.

Uriah Heep - Whad' Ya Say (from Fallen Angel, 1978) – They once roamed the land like magnificent denim- and fringe-bedecked dinosaurs, the hard rock bands of the Polyester Era, and when the opportunity arose to trade credibility for a chance at megaplatinium “crossover” success, they came a’running, visions of tax exile status dancing through their heads.

Their time has passed. Their few remaining acolytes hunker down in basement apartments, putting the finishing touches on their SCA apparel and next weekend’s Dungeons and Dragons scenario while lambasting the sorry state of modern (i.e. post-1980) music.

Alice Cooper – You Gotta Dance (from Goes to Hell, 1976) – Check out this skeleton I found in a certain shock rocker’s closet. It’s wearing a lovely peach leisure suit and a gold chain, and is that Jovan Sex Appeal I smell?

Alice does disco... only a year after the release of Welcome to My Nightmare and a good year before the runaway success of Saturday Night Fever convinced other rock acts to hop on the bandwagon. The man’s a true pioneer.