The Mamas & the Papas Albums (8)
'California Dreamin': Live in Concert'
Release Date 1/27/1998
Tracks 17
Label Prism
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Here is an example of the virtues of reading the fine print. It is only on the back cover of this album that one can glimpse the subtitle, "Live in Concert," revealing that this is not a collection of the Mamas & the Papas' original studio recordings. Still, one might assume, mistakenly, that the original members of the group were involved. In order to be disabused of this notion, one would have to buy the album and read the brief, error-filled liner notes inside, which reveal that the concert in question occurred on July 3, 1995, and features founder and original member John Phillips, his longtime friend Scott McKenzie, and female singers Lisa Brescia and Deb Lyons. They perform many of the familiar 1960s songs of the Mamas & the Papas in the familiar arrangements. They are good-enough singers, too, they just aren't Denny Doherty, Cass Elliot, or Michelle Phillips. McKenzie, a member of John Phillips' pre-Mamas & Papas group the Journeymen, sings his Phillips-penned hit "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)," and Phillips fans may enjoy two new numbers, the pretty ballad "Love Song" (co-written with daughter MacKenzie Phillips) and "The Year 2000," an optimistic anticipation of the millennial celebration. But for the uninitiated who purchase this album expecting it to feature all four original members of the Mamas & the Papas, the album will seem a rip-off. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
'If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears'
Release Date 11/20/1989
Tracks 12
Label MCA
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
In the spring of 1966, If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears represented a genuinely new sound, as fresh to listeners as the songs on Meet the Beatles had seemed two years earlier. Released just as "California Dreaming" was ascending the charts by leaps and bounds, it was the product of months of rehearsal in the Virgin Islands and John Phillips' discovery of what one could do to build a polished recorded sound in the studio -- it embraced folk-rock, pop/rock, pop, and soul, and also reflected the kind of care that acts like the Beatles were putting into their records at the time. "Monday, Monday" and "California Dreamin'" are familiar enough to anyone who's ever listened to the radio, and "Go Where You Wanna Go" isn't far behind, in this version or the very similar rendition by the Fifth Dimension. But the rest is mighty compelling even to casual listeners, including the ethereal "Got a Feelin'," the rocking "Straight Shooter" and "Somebody Groovy," the jaunty, torch song-style version of "I Call Your Name," and the prettiest versions of "Do You Wanna Dance" and "Spanish Harlem" that anyone ever recorded. If the material here has a certain glow that the Mamas & the Papas' subsequent LPs lacked, that may be due in part to the extensive rehearsal and the exhilaration of their first experience in the studio, but also a result of the fact that it was recorded before the members' personal conflicts began interfering with their ability to work together. The work was all spontaneous and unforced here, as opposed to the emotional complications that had to be overcome before their next sessions. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
'The Papas & the Mamas'
Release Date 1/1/1968
Tracks 12
Label Dunhill
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
An often misunderstood album, this album (aside from the 1971 "reunion" album) was the final record by the Mamas & the Papas. It has held up incredibly well over time, and sounds better today than when it was released in mid-1968. The centerpiece of the album is "Dream a Little Dream," which very well may be the finest cover version that the group ever recorded, and in the end, was a very nice way to end the group's short but incredible career. The album also contains some excellent John Phillips material such as "12:30" (a minor hit), "Rooms," and "Too Late." These three tracks form a mini-medley in the middle of the second side, and add a lot of dimension to the record. Cut at the Phillips' home studio, the album has a simple sound, but when the vocal majesty cuts through on such tracks as "Mansions" (one of the band's lost masterpieces), it's faultless. ~ Matthew Greenwald, All Music Guide
'Monterey International Pop Festival'
Release Date 1/1/1967
Tracks 8
Label One Way
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
With the lengthy title of Historic Performances Recorded at the Monterey International Pop Festival, this 1971 release was recorded at the event held at Monterey, CA, between June 16-18 in 1967. Six of the eight tunes appear on the box set Rhino released of the mega concert, excluding "Somebody Groovy" and "Spanish Harlem." John Phillips' arranging and songwriting genius has never been properly recognized as the inspiring force that it was and continues to be, and though this Wally Heider remote recording (mixed in the studio by Erick Weinberg) is deficient, the performance by the original group at this important point in time is enthusiastic and worthwhile. As this writer put it in the liner notes requested by Dinky Dawson for his production of the latter-day version of the band's Sold Out: Live at the Savoy 3/12/82 on Rykodisc, "The highly influential group has not had the luxury of each and every live cassette and studio outtake traded the way Lou Reed, Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones get studied, sought after, and talked about." At Monterey the band included many of the musicians from the Deliver album -- future Bread keyboard player Larry Knechtel was utilized along with Joe Osborne on bass and Dr. Eric Hord on guitar. Replacing Captain & Tennille drummer Hal Blaine was Chicago area percussionist Fast Eddie. The disc is vocal-heavy, as it should be for a harmony quartet, and the bootleg quality actually adds a sort of charm. Dunhill/ABC was desperate for more Mamas & Papas product and the drive of the live version of "Got a Feeling" didn't deny the label something substantial to offer the fans. A band so slick in the studio is fun heard letting it all hang out at this monumental event, and the bottom line is that for fans this is a wonderful, if all too brief, glimpse of the four in performance at the height of their fame. It's 33 minutes and 29 seconds -- including on-stage chatter -- that becomes more valuable as time goes by. Listen to the band cook on "California Dreamin'" and John Phillips belt it out with Mama Cass countering his moves. As credible as any garage rock group churning out "Pushin' Too Hard" and hoping for stardom, these stars shine perhaps because the performance is somewhat ragged. Who wants a clone of the studio stuff anyway? ~ Joe Viglione, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
By the time the Mamas & the Papas recorded and released their third album, the group was continuing, in the words of singer Denny Doherty, "on its own momentum." Acrimonious personnel changes, rock stardom, fame, money, and drugs (among other factors) were taking their toll on the group's chemistry. Fortunately, this momentum is precisely the reason that the album succeeds. Buttressed by the singles "Creeque Alley" (the sometimes hilarious story of how the group came together), "Look Through My Window," and the stupendous remake of "Dedicated to the One I Love," the album has some exquisite moments. "Look Through My Window" is also one of the group's most realized recordings, and the cover of "Twist and Shout" is an absolute killer. Much of the record, frankly, doesn't sound too different than the group's first two albums, but with the songwriting, vocal, and production excellence, why tamper with genius? The group felt so too, which is why this album is Michelle Phillips' personal favorite. It's not too hard to see why. ~ Matthew Greenwald, All Music Guide
'The Mamas & the Papas'
Release Date 1/1/1966
Tracks 12
Label Dunhill
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Sometimes art and events, personal or otherwise, converge on a point transcending the significance of either -- a work achieves a relevance far beyond the seeming boundaries of the creation at hand. During the 1950s and 1960s, in music, it used to happen occasionally for Elvis Presley, the Beatles, and Bob Dylan, once or twice for the Byrds, and a few times for the Beach Boys and the Rolling Stones. For the Mamas & the Papas, it happened twice, with their first album, If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, and, on a more complex level, with this album -- which was astonishing, given that they had a major upheaval in their membership in the midst of recording it. The Mamas & the Papas (also sometimes referred to as "Cass- John-Michelle-Denny," which might well have been the official title until that lineup started to shift) was recorded over a period of almost four months, in the wake of the massive success of their first two singles and the debut album, issued in February of 1966. The members were riding a whirlwind in the spring of 1966, which showed -- along with a lot more -- in this album's unintentionally revealing cover photo, depicting all four of them framed in a window, the other three standing while Michelle Phillips reclined in front, bisecting the trio behind her. She looks happy, even pleased with herself, while the others look just a little tired, even fatigued -- a lot like the Beatles did on the cover of Beatles for Sale, the main difference being that the latter album was made two years into their international success, while this album was just a few months into the Mamas & the Papas' history as a recording act. If the demands and rewards of success -- the concerts, the money, the drugs, and the need to keep up the quality -- were causing the group to burn the candle at both ends, Michelle Phillips' extra-curricular romantic activities with Denny Doherty burned it right through the middle, and did a lot more than bisect the group -- it disrupted all of the interlocking relationships, including her marriage to John Phillips and any trust that she shared with Cass Elliot (who had long adored Doherty), as well as greatly complicating Doherty's relationships with all of them; and another problem was her relationship with Gene Clark, formerly the best singer and songwriter in the Byrds, with whom she was flirting very publicly and spending lots of time with in private during that season. Phillips was finally dropped from the group in late June and replaced by Jill Gibson, a friend of the band, a girlfriend of producer Lou Adler, and a good singer who did a few shows with them before it was decided that they needed Phillips back -- at one point, a cover photo with Gibson replacing her in the window was prepared, but it was never used, though billboards of that shot were put up to promote the upcoming release. Gibson did end up on parts of the album, but precisely where is one of the great unanswered questions to this day. As to the album, it still holds up magnificently as music, and shows how, even juggling live performances, television appearances, a marriage going bad, and Lord knows what drugs in his life, John Phillips could think on his feet and create like few people this side of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Martin, and get the others to work it his way -- "No Salt on Her Tail" started life as a backing track to a Rodgers & Hart song on a television special that Phillips thought was too good not to use on one of his own songs, and he wrote one just for that track that was more than good enough to open the album. Indeed, the song has an almost tragic beauty about it -- one gets a strong sense of sadness behind the words and the music and between the lead vocals and the soaring harmonies, while uncredited guest organist Ray Manzarek of the not yet famous or especially successful Doors plays an Al Kooper-ish, "Like a Rolling Stone"-style keyboard; Hal Blaine's drums and Joe Osborn's bass provide a rock-solid rhythm section; and Eric Hord, Tommy Tedesco, and John Phillips' guitars chime away. All of it sounds a little like the Byrds channeled through God. "Trip, Stumble and Fall" was lyrically more ambitious than anything on the first album, and offered luscious harmonies, while "Dancing Bear" was an art song, opening with a small orchestral accompaniment in the foreground that recedes, switching to an acoustic guitar accompaniment and voices almost totally isolated, a cappella style, building layer upon layer in their accompaniment as though the quartet was suddenly transformed into the Serendipity Singers. "Words of Love" was Cass Elliot's great showcase, giving her the spotlight that she filled magnificently with an elegant, bluesy pop sound -- and then comes Rodgers & Hart's "My Heart Stood Still," which is transformed into a 12-string-driven, horn-ornamented piece of folk-rock, and it leads into the first side's finish, "Dancing in the Street," arguably the best straight blue-eyed soul rendition ever done of a Motown number and also the song that resulted from Michelle Phillips' return to the fold in the summer of 1966. Side two opened with John Phillips' masterpiece, "I Saw Her Again," the hardest-rocking song of the group's history as well as the place where he crossed swords with the Beatles as a songwriter and producer, and succeeded in matching them. "Strange Young Girls" was a hauntingly beautiful yet ominous take on the youth scene in Los Angeles at the time, and then there was "I Can't Wait," an angry but beautifully harmonized bitter love song, with a bassline that's one of the most memorable instrumental moments in the group's history, all about a busted romance. The latter song, the equally venomous "That Kind of Girl," the bittersweet "Even if I Could," plus the singles "Words of Love" and "I Saw Her Again" all seemed to reveal more about what was happening to the band than any press release could have -- some of what's here is mean-spirited enough that garage punk misogynists the Chocolate Watch Band could have covered it without too much trouble. They combine to make this album one of the nastiest-tempered statements of romance in a mainstream rock album of its era, and a lot edgier than any other long-player the group ever issued. (And for those who want to hear an almost equally good folk-rock album that is a companion piece to this album, check out Gene Clark with the Gosdin Brothers, recorded a little later than this album -- listen to some of the more cynical love songs and one must wonder seriously if Clark wasn't, consciously or not, giving his "take" on the relationship with Phillips.) The Mamas & the Papas does end on a harmonious note, however, with the equally bittersweet "Once Was a Time I Thought," a piece of vocalese that rivals the work of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross and anticipates the records of the Manhattan Transfer, and might be the group's sin
