"Dancing Bear" sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of their work both for its classical music touches and its length. Whereas most of their tunes were ready to play for AM radio, that one is so elaborate it probably could only have been on the FM dial.
But that goes to show what kind of group they were- and the amazing experimentation of John Phillips as an arranger and a songwriter.
This is such a compelling reminder that certain albums aren’t just collections of songs—they’re pressure points where arrangement, tension, and personality collide in ways that can’t be repeated. Your analysis captures that collision beautifully. I especially appreciate how you trace the musical consequences of the group’s real-life fractures, not as trivia, but as forces shaping the very sound we hear.
The Jill Gibson interlude, the exhausted cover photo, the guilt woven inside the sunniest harmonies—your framing brings out something I hadn’t fully felt before: that this album documents the moment where California pop began to curdle at the edges. You’ve given this record a depth that may slip past even longtime fans, and you make the case without sentimentality, just close listening and good judgment. It’s the kind of writing that sends me back to the music with new ears, eager to listen again, and that is the highest compliment I can offer.
The irony of the dose of ‘Sunshine Pop’ you offer in this post is I listened to it from 2-5 years old, so all of it sounded super playful and easy to nap to. I had no idea, of course, at that age… The words that stuck out in the harmonies I could most hear/understand sounded fun and playful as well. Go figure!
Whether it’s that, “No-o-o” or “You oughta know by now-w-ww” it all sounded great to chirp along and I never gave it a second thought! Then by the time I played flute in the school band, I had the solo in California Dreaming down flat. I still play it.
The M&Ps have given me nothing but joy my whole life. What an irony to find out at this age about all its darkness. Guess what? I get to listen to it all over again!
Thanks for the insights. I did have to look up the years on some of the singles to remind myself how old I was. Perhaps weave more dates into the storytelling? Just a thought.
Indeed, that “Dancing Bear” was able to “climb” as high as #51 in Billboard a year later after their first farewell to their golden era is surprising given all the baroque post-Pepper psychedelia then hitting its zenith. Or nadir.
"Dancing Bear" sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of their work both for its classical music touches and its length. Whereas most of their tunes were ready to play for AM radio, that one is so elaborate it probably could only have been on the FM dial.
But that goes to show what kind of group they were- and the amazing experimentation of John Phillips as an arranger and a songwriter.
It's an amazing recording that holds up as a good example of the ambition fuelling pop-music makers in 1966.
Record buyers were lucky people to be living then.
To have been around back then!
This is such a compelling reminder that certain albums aren’t just collections of songs—they’re pressure points where arrangement, tension, and personality collide in ways that can’t be repeated. Your analysis captures that collision beautifully. I especially appreciate how you trace the musical consequences of the group’s real-life fractures, not as trivia, but as forces shaping the very sound we hear.
The Jill Gibson interlude, the exhausted cover photo, the guilt woven inside the sunniest harmonies—your framing brings out something I hadn’t fully felt before: that this album documents the moment where California pop began to curdle at the edges. You’ve given this record a depth that may slip past even longtime fans, and you make the case without sentimentality, just close listening and good judgment. It’s the kind of writing that sends me back to the music with new ears, eager to listen again, and that is the highest compliment I can offer.
Cass Elliot had a great voice. Is the Wrecking Crew the backing band?
The irony of the dose of ‘Sunshine Pop’ you offer in this post is I listened to it from 2-5 years old, so all of it sounded super playful and easy to nap to. I had no idea, of course, at that age… The words that stuck out in the harmonies I could most hear/understand sounded fun and playful as well. Go figure!
Whether it’s that, “No-o-o” or “You oughta know by now-w-ww” it all sounded great to chirp along and I never gave it a second thought! Then by the time I played flute in the school band, I had the solo in California Dreaming down flat. I still play it.
The M&Ps have given me nothing but joy my whole life. What an irony to find out at this age about all its darkness. Guess what? I get to listen to it all over again!
Thanks for the insights. I did have to look up the years on some of the singles to remind myself how old I was. Perhaps weave more dates into the storytelling? Just a thought.
Listen to “Twelve Thirty” and “Safe in My Garden” on the fourth album to taste 1968.
Well now you have me dusting of my father’s LPs!
Indeed, that “Dancing Bear” was able to “climb” as high as #51 in Billboard a year later after their first farewell to their golden era is surprising given all the baroque post-Pepper psychedelia then hitting its zenith. Or nadir.