Gallery “Nice to Be with You” / “Ginger Haired Man”
/I must have picked this one up for the attractive label—looking like a squashed pumpkin—how would it look spinning? Kind of awkward—though it might look good at a much faster speed—like 1000 RPM. It’s the Sussex label—overseas? No, an LA address—I wonder if they’re still there, I’ll look it up, 6430 Sunset Blvd.—big, ugly office building—well, it’s Hollywood. “Ginger Haired Man”—I guess I listened to the B-Side first—sounds a little like a forgotten Tommy Roe song—failed to excite me. So, what’s this A-Side, with the most innocuous title ever. Oh. It’s that song. It’s funny to really listen to it now, because the intro, the solo, even the verses all sound like music—but the chorus… “It’s no nice to be with you, etc.”—is so ingrained in my mind—will that kind of deep programming ever go away? Probably not. When did I hear this on the kitchen AM radio? Every single day while eating my Pop Tarts and dreading grade school, 1972, and then probably on the car radio, and in public—it’s a brain tattoo if I ever heard one. A number 4 hit, so hopefully they made some money—I’m sure they’re nice people. Songwriter, band leader, Jim Gold, from Detroit (probably heard this endlessly on CKLW)—weird, I’m watching a movie directed by Jack Gold—same person? No. I get confused because my dad’s name was John James—so he went by those, but also Jim, Jimmy, J.J., and he called people Jack, so I get them all confused. How’d they ever score that excellent band name? Gallery. Jackpot. That could mean art gallery, rogues gallery, the gallery in a golf tournament (AKA, human backstop), or a shooting gallery—in a carnival—or else the dilapidated, roach-infested flophouse where doomed junkies get together and share dirty needles. Really sorry to bring you down, there! What else? It could be the gallery in everyone’s heart—the place where we display the best of ourselves, our natural brilliance, shining genius, and true love.
6.16.23