The Cut-Out Bin

Hall & Oates, Abandoned Luncheonette (1973)

[22 June 2007]

Before their string of ubiquitous 1980s hits, this songwriting duo wrote surprisingly strange and pleasantly unpretentious soft rock.

By Rob Horning

PopMatters General Features Editor

Daryl Hall and John Oates will be forever associated with the 1980s, when they were a ubiquitous presence on top 40 radio with a string of peppy, edgeless, and almost inexplicably catchy hits: “Kiss on My List”, “Private Eyes”, “Maneater”, “Out of Touch”, these were as familiar as the taste of toothpaste and about as exciting. Much like kindred spirits Huey Lewis and the News, Hall and Oates blended bland, earnest white-soul crooning with some of the trappings of new-wave production (drum machines, synthetic horn arrangements, etc.) to produce songs that were as unobjectionable as they were unexceptional, and they haven’t aged especially well. They are tainted with too close an association with the decade’s zeitgeist, making it nearly impossible to hear anything but nostalgia or camp humor in them. Also, the duo’s dreadful live album recorded at the Apollo with former members of the Temptations seems one of the era’s most hubristic embarrassments.

But before they become quintessential ‘80s hitmakers, Hall & Oates had a pretty extensive career in the 1970s as singer-songwriters in the Bread mold—not penicillin but sensitive, introspective soft rock aimed squarely at couples confronting midlife crisis. Many acts tried to cash in on the lucrative market opened by James Taylor and his ilk, and Hall & Oates’s innovation, as natives of the Philadelphia area, was to blend acoustic pop balladry with elements of Philly soul; Hall had in fact started his professional career working with Gamble and Huff, the architects of the genre. The most effective expression of this synthesis comes on Hall & Oates’s second album, Abandoned Luncheonette.

cover art

Hall & Oates

Abandoned Luncheonette

(Atlantic; US: 1973)

 Amazon
 Lala

If you know Hall & Oates only by their hits, the first surprise that comes from listening to any of their albums is the sound of Oates’s voice. In the 1980s, Oates—the curly-haired, mustachioed one—tended to seem like a useless appendage, an Andrew Ridgely type whose function in the group was difficult to discern. He certainly didn’t seem to deserve co-leader status with Hall; Hall sings lead on almost all of duo’s recognizable hits. And in their videos, while Hall was accorded full superstar treatment, Oates was typically shown doing nothing other than dancing around foolishly and adding his voice to the chorus of backup singers. Sometimes he wouldn’t even have the fig-leaf dignity of having a guitar strapped to him.

But in reality, Oates suffered from the same fate as James Griffin, David Gates’s partner in Bread. Gates wrote all the band’s hits—“Make It With You”, “Baby I’m-a Want You”, “If”—and thus came to dominate the band, while Griffin’s equally worthy if not superior material was subordinated. Abandoned Luncheonette, however, comes early enough in the Hall & Oates saga for Oates to have a prominent role (though chances are he was never the foul-mouthed ass-kicking leader of the group, as depicted in the brilliant Yacht Rock). He contributes three of the album’s better songs: “Had I Known You Better Then” is a mellow acoustic track with elaborate harmonies. “I’m Just a Kid (Don’t Make Me Feel Like a Man)”, a deceptively complex song about a sex-hungry pickup artist, has a hooky bridge that foreshadowed the duo’s later hit “Rich Girl”.  The breezy “Las Vegas Turnaround (The Stewardess Song)”, a character study of sorts about a woman named Sara (perhaps the Sara of another subsequent hit, “Sara Smile”), casually exploits what must have been the inherent fascination at the time with the displaced people who made a living in commercial aviation. That they can pass off this gimmicky concept off-handedly, with little trace of desperation, is characteristic of much of the duo’s material and is suggestive of what would ultimately make them so successful; audiences are perhaps primed to forgive them their transparent attempts to be hip because they simultaneously come across as implausible, likable underdogs who can’t be held to a higher standard.

Daryl Hall and John Oates, 2002

Daryl Hall and John Oates, 2002

The lowered expectations they evoke allows them to continually surprise, especially on their hits. Oates and Hall collaborated on Abandoned Luncheonette‘s most famous track and the pair’s first hit, “She’s Gone”. On this slick soul pastiche, one can clearly hear the influence of the Righteous Brothers (Hall and Oates would later serve up a rote cover of “You Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,” before Top Gun overexposed the original) as well as the strength of their singing—it builds effectively to a climax that hinges on Hall’s ability to belt out the chorus with that precise control over his voice that paradoxically conveys unrestrained emotion.

Hall’s writing contributions are far more eclectic than Oates’s, with less consistent results. The album’s opener, “When the Morning Comes” is a strummy folk pop augmented with a warbling synthesizer part and Hall’s occasional excursions into the falsetto range. “Laughing Boy” is a maudlin ballad, heavy on emoting and dreadfully short of melody. The title track is a more ambitious composition, a Billy Joel-esque storytelling song that attempts a cinematic sweep across several different tempos and genres, including cabaret, big band and nourish incidental music. The lyrics aren’t strong or coherent enough to unify the disparate musical elements, and it fails to rise above the level of corny curiosity. The album closer, the seven-minute-plus epic “Everytime I Look at You,” is far more successful a piece of pastiche. It starts off approximating, improbably enough, hard funk, and then passes through a proglike instrumental break en route to finishing with a country hoedown, of all things. Miraculously, this all holds together without becoming pretentious or seeming overly pleased with its experimentalism. And this spirit is probably what allowed Hall & Oates persevere and thrive through so many changes in style and so many false starts down blind alleys on their way to superstardom.

Hall & Oates - She's Gone [Live on The Old Grey Whistle Test, 1976]
 
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Robert Horning has developed a substantial body of work in PopMatters’ music reviews, concerts, film, and TV sections. His writing has also appeared in Time Out New York and Skyscraper. In his PopMatters column, “Marginal Utility”, Rob bridges the abstract and concrete aspects of consumerism. His writing is as grounded and approachable as an everyday trip to the grocery store. Rob has a BA and MA in English Literature; his interests in social theory, economics, and sociology generates his solid background knowledge for “Marginal Utility” and informs his music reviews. For more Rob Horning, be sure to read the Marginal Utility blog.

Tagged as: hall & oates
Comments

Rob, you won’t believe how much shit I used to take for defending Hall & Oates… glad to see I wasn’t the last true believah. If only Robert Fripp could fill the rest of ‘em in.

The “Sara” in both “Sara” songs was a nod to Sara Allen, who was Hall’s longtime girlfriend. She also occasionally co-wrote with Daryl.

Nice writeup…

Comment by Paul Pearson from Seattle — June 22, 2007 @ 2:38 am

Rob,

I’ve always been curious about this album…the title alone is enough to bait me so thanks for letting me (us) know what’s in the grooves.

Christian

Comment by Christian John Wikane from New York City — June 22, 2007 @ 7:53 am

Who died and left Rob Horning in charge?

Comment by Theo from Virginia — June 23, 2007 @ 5:43 am

I died and left Rob Horning in charge. Why do you have such a problem with that, Theo?

Comment by Tommy Marx from Portland OR — June 24, 2007 @ 9:01 pm

Oh, the ignorance of people who feel guilty when they hear great music by outstanding artists.  Where do I start?  Daryl Hall & John Oates will not “forever be associated with the ‘80’s” as commercially successful as they were.  Any knowledgeable music fan knows at least a cursory history of Daryl and John since the 1970’s through to today. If they are “as exciting as toothpaste” then you must have some badass toothpaste. 

“Kindred spirits Huey Lewis & The News”?  Where did that come from?  You’re a cliche in your own mind if you think that much.  “White soul”?  Sorry, Hall & Oates are a rock duo and if they do sing a soul song, they are not imitating anybody. There is no racial ownership to a certain type of music.  Does Lionel Richie sing “black rock”? 

“to produce songs that were… unexceptional”.  Sure… “She’s Gone” was an accidental rock classic.  It’s only a coincidence that 7 songs hit number one during a 25 year span.  To this day “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” gets sampled or remixed.  “Haven’t aged especially well”.  Bull-manure.  If 35+ years of great music hasn’t “aged well” and gotten these guys into the Songwriters Hall of Fame, then you’d better check yourself into rehab and quit smokin’ the clovers.

“the duo’s dreadful live album recorded at the Apollo with former members of the Temptations seems one of the era’s most hubristic embarrassments.”  You’re not only ignorant, you’re an idiot and a tone-deafened fool.  “Live at the Apollo” is one of the cleanest-produced, best-sounding live albums in history.  The only embarrasement is that you are ignorant.

“singer-songwriters in the Bread mold—not penicillin but sensitive, introspective soft rock aimed squarely at couples confronting midlife crisis”.  Har-de har.. Hall & Oates are like Bread ‘mold’ Ha ha ha….  Hey, leave the humor to Jay Leno. 

Oh let’s continue with the John Oates bashing.  John is one of the best singer-songwriters and producers in the music business and he’s the perfect complement to Daryl Hall.  He has a clear, distinctive singing voice and the crowd cheers just as loud for him as they do for Daryl.  BTW, he got rid of the mustache about 10 years ago, fool. “Oates suffered from the same fate as James Griffin, David Gates’s partner in Bread.”  Really?  That he drives the band, is a superb talent and a member of the Songwriters Hall of Fame?  I’ll have to remember that.

I’m amazed that you actually complimented John Oates for his efforts in the “Abandoned Luncheonette” album, but your glittering ignorance still shines through, to wit “I’m Just a Kid (Don’t Make Me Feel Like a Man)”, a deceptively complex song about a sex-hungry pickup artist, has a hooky bridge that foreshadowed the duo’s later hit “Rich Girl”.  “I’m Just a Kid” has to do with the fact that he used to mess around with much younger women early in his life and there’s nothing in it that even slightly resembles “Rich Girl”.  Also, if you had a brain in your head, it would be obvious that “Las Vegas Turnaround” has everything to do with “the Sara” in “Sara Smile”.  He knew her before Daryl Hall did.  Put that in your bong and hit it.

Here’s another: “audiences are perhaps primed to forgive them their transparent attempts to be hip because they simultaneously come across as implausible, likable underdogs who can’t be held to a higher standard.”  Daryl Hall & John Oates set the standard.  Name someone who has come close. 

Oh, brother, there’s more: “Miraculously, this all holds together without becoming pretentious or seeming overly pleased with its experimentalism. And this spirit is probably what allowed Hall & Oates persevere and thrive through so many changes in style and so many false starts down blind alleys on their way to superstardom.”

“Abandoned Luncheonette” is a rock classic. It’s well-written, superbly performed and produced.  It’s not “miraculous”.  The changes in style from album to album were the result of them using different producers until they started self-producing their albums since 1980’s “Voices” album. There were no “false starts down blind alleys”.  Their fans have to “forgive” them for nothing.  Their fans thank them for decades of great music with more to come.

Comment by Tom from San Francisco — June 28, 2007 @ 12:20 am

I, too, took alot of crap for being a Hall and Oates fan back during the 80’s.  You had to like Motley Crue, Ozzy, and so on to be considered cool.  Interestingly enough, the same group of “techers” who ragged on me for being an H&O fan in high school, now have an appreciation for their music.  Glad I stuck to my guns and didn’t cave in to peer pressure.

Robert Fripp once wrote “Hall has the best voice of anybody in the biz.”  He was right-on with that comment.

I have to wonder if you wrote this simply to ruffle the feathers of H&O fans.  You describe them as likeable underdogs who can’t be held to a higher standard. Well, during the ‘80’s, they were partly responsible for setting the standard.  No relationship is 50-50 - Oates is quoted many times that he was fine with their working relationship.  They both shared the same outlook on music, and that is what is important to these musicians.

It is wrong to compare them with James Taylor, Huey Lewis and the News and Bread.  All successful in their own right, they have a different outlook on music than H&O.  I also like the stylings of HL&TN and James Taylor. 

Does it really matter what critics think of a band’s music?  If even one person thinks a song is good, then who is anybody else to deny them their opinion and their enjoyment of music.

Last I checked, there were over 800 sugnatures to get H&O into the R’N'R Hall of Fame.  Not a bad number at all.

Comment by Ray from Coopersburg, PA. — June 28, 2007 @ 6:17 pm

Hall & Oates is great! I’m :p typically a Beatles Fan, but I’m getting H2oMania now!! LOL :p I’m also kinda young.. so I didn’t experience the 70s or 80s :)

My latest song obsessions: Sara Smile and She’s Gone ;D

Comment by beatlegirl from New York — August 31, 2007 @ 3:10 pm

Tom,

You don’t quite know what you’re talking about do you?  You write enough stuff to make it sound like you do, but you really don’t understand Hall & Oates at all.  You don’t understand John Oates either.  He isn’t a lackey side kick (ala Wham’s Andrew Ridgely)with a smokin’ mustache, he’s an excellent vocalist, a songwriter, a guitarist, bassist and keyboardist.  In fact, my old boss, thought his voice was every bit as good as John’s.

The two have wonderful synergy together and produce beautiful harmonies.  According to RIAA and Billboard they are the most successful rock duo ever.  Yep, not The Everly Brothers,not Simon & Garfunkel, but Hall & Oates!

I was the morning DJ at a Movin’ oldies format (soul, funk and disco from the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s).  Hall And Oates was one of the few non-black performers on our playlist.  “I Can’t Go For That, No Can Do” was a staple of all Movin’ Oldies stations.  Blacks loved the soulfulness of it and it topped the pop charts as well as the black charts - one of the few songs in the history of the black/R&B charts to do so up to that point.  We looped the bass and keyboards for background music when we gave away things over the air and played back the winner’s response.

Thank goodness Paul Young had the foresight to cover their “Everytime You Go Away” (also an ‘80s song) to the top of the charts.  Live at the Apollo was fantastic.  What were you smokin’ or what were you listening to?  They held there own with the Motown legends.

Tom, I bet you $10 bucks you turn up “One on One” on an ‘80s weekend on the radio late at night whilst driving down the highway.  You know you do.

Dave

Comment by David Candland from Salt Lake City — January 19, 2009 @ 10:04 pm

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