“YOUR MIND AND WE BELONG TOGETHER” (WRITER: ARTHUR LEE)
ARTIST: LOVE
RELEASED 1968 ON 7” 45
Following the November 1967 release of Love’s Forever Changes album, Arthur Lee—Love’s
lead singer and primary songwriter—was forced to reassess his situation.
Forever Changes had
failed to sell on release and was not properly recognized in this country for
more than a decade. (Elektra Records has never let it go out of print.) The
album’s single, “Alone Again Or,” was, as expected, a hit in California but
charted nowhere else.
It was now early 1968. Lee’s band, a once-kinetic ensemble
now lazy, drugged out, rusty, and drained of confidence, was crumbling around
him. Love was never a happy good-time group, instead choosing to anchor itself
on the left coast in voluntary isolation, holing up and staying local as other
Los Angeles bands traveled the globe.
Racially integrated at a time when such a thing was rare,
the daringly eclectic band wore its alienation on its collective paisley
sleeve. Some on the Sunset Strip felt that Love should have been called “Hate,”
as the band put out strange, aggressive vibes on stage and in its interactions
with writers and other musicians. Some of that might have been due to drugs;
much was surely due to Lee’s volatile personality.
Now, with 1967 in the mist, Lee switched gears once again.
Gone were the lovely string and horn arrangements of Forever Changes, and the jazzy experimentation of the album before,
Da Capo, faded even further into memory.
Henceforth, Lee would compete with the harder rock sounds of
the day. On January 30, 1968, the fivesome—Lee, Bryan MacLean, and John Echols
on guitars, Ken Forssi on bass, and Michael Stuart on drums—gathered in L.A.’s Sunset
Sound studio to record a new single.
You couldn’t call the two songs Love recorded that day “commercial.”
“Laughing Stock,” which would be the b-side, quoted lyrics from the band’s
first 45, “My Little Red Book,” and exaggerated its aggressive stop-start
rhythm to an almost parodic level. The ending fade, in which the band literally
falls apart, was far too close to the bone.
The a-side, “Your Mind and We Belong Together,” in some ways
resembled Forever Changes: it had a typically
odd Lee title, it combined several interesting fragments into a sort of suite,
and was impossibly sad, as if written by a man watching a dream evaporate like
water on a hot day.
I’d like to understand just why
I feel like I’ve been through hell and you tell me I haven’t even started yet.
To live here you’ve got to give
more than you get—this I know.
So many people, they just seem
to clutter up my mind
And if it’s mine, throw it away.
Throw it again, once for my girlfriend.
After months of barely playing, the band wasn’t tight; it
took 44 takes to get a perfect (?) recording of “Your Mind and We Belong
Together.” Outtakes that Elektra released on its Forever Changes expanded CD indicate that Lee ran a tight ship in
the studio and sometimes had to be unpleasant to urge a better performance.
The final product, though, is stunning, an extension of the
high-art pop single in the tradition of “Good Vibrations,” “Paint it, Black,” “Whiter
Shade of Pale,” and “Strawberry Fields Forever." Lee produced a minor masterpiece.
The multi-part paean to a lost love opens with a zippy
folk-rock beat and odd time changes. After a couple of loopy but hypnotic
verses, it stumbles into a gorgeous flamenco-like section, and just as suddenly
veers back into catchy pop, but with an impossibly dark twist.
I’m
locking my heart in the closet. I don’t need it anymore.
You find me behind the door and
all of the far-out faces
From long ago, I can't erase this.
From long ago, I can't erase this.
Echols’ gritty, sloppy guitar solo takes the record to the fadeout.
Elektra’s decision to release this odd, winding, but riveting
single, all 4:22 of it, might have been more about letting the notoriously
chippy Lee have his way rather than any feeling that the song could actually be
a hit. While the record got a bit of airplay on the west coast, it was not a
hit in Los Angeles, San Diego, or anywhere in between.
Oddly enough, “Your Mind and We Belong Together” reached #11
on Toledo, Ohio’s top 40 station, an event that can be put down either to
incredibly progressive listeners, an aggressive promotion man, a program
director with nothing to lose, or pure lunacy.
Following the single’s failure, the original band dissolved,
its members spiraling into drug addiction, crime, and obscurity. Lee formed a
new, much heavier, Love and continued to plow forward. Its 1969 album, Four Sail, was very good, but a sort of
last gasp; Neither Lee nor Love ever again reached a creative high.
Great tune. It was one of the earliest Elektra 45s to arrive at our house from the newly made deal with our local COUNTRY radio station to get their ROCK DJ 45s that they had no use for. By this time, we knew to expect something ODD but COOL from this label always. WLSClark
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