Posts Tagged Tommy James & The Shondells

Counter Culture – Midweek Song List (158), 2 July 2026

We’ve always said Counter Culture is as much about history as it is about music, and this month that’s been impossible to ignore. The Battle of the Somme began 110 years ago, on 1 July 1916, and the scale of loss still has the power to stop you in your tracks. Very few British units reached their objectives on that first day; the 36th (Ulster) Division was one of the exceptions, though the cost was appalling. More than 2,000 men killed on 1 July alone, and roughly 5,500 casualties within forty‑eight hours. Their sacrifice is marked today by the Ulster Tower at Thiepval — a quiet, stark reminder of what was spent in those fields.

With that in mind, we turn to music not as escapism, but as a way of lifting the spirits without forgetting the weight of the past. This week’s list is a proper spread: rockabilly oddities, neofolk underground, chart‑topping ballads, 60s pop, glam rock tenderness, and even a frog with a banjo. Variety is the point.

THE SONGS

The Baboons – “Drinkin’ Gasoline”

Belgium’s Baboons have always been a curious outfit — rockabilly at heart, but with a scruffy garage edge that keeps them from ever sounding nostalgic. “Drinkin’ Gasoline” is one of their rowdier numbers, all swagger and twang, the sort of track that feels like it’s been recorded in a bar where the walls sweat.

Blue Man Group – “I Feel Love”

Blue Man Group sit somewhere between performance art, percussion ensemble and fever dream. Their take on Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” is exactly what you’d expect: metallic rhythms, alien‑blue faces, and a strange hypnotic pulse. Compared to them, Kermit really is the conservative option.

Celine Dion – “My Heart Will Go On”

The song that swallowed the late 90s whole. Written by James Horner and Will Jennings, and delivered with Dion’s trademark emotional precision, it became one of the best‑selling singles of all time. Whatever you think of Titanic, this track is a masterclass in the power‑ballad tradition.

Tim Hardin – “Reason to Believe”

Hardin’s songwriting has a fragility that few artists ever manage. “Reason to Believe” has been covered endlessly — Rod Stewart made it famous — but Hardin’s original remains the most affecting. Sparse, wounded, and utterly sincere.

Don Henley – “Boys of Summer”

Henley’s solo masterpiece. Co‑written with Mike Campbell of Tom Petty’s band, it’s a song about ageing, longing, and the ghosts of summers past. Synths, melancholy, and one of the great choruses of the 80s.

Tommy James & The Shondells – “I Think We’re Alone Now”

Before Tiffany turned it into a mall‑pop anthem in 1987, Tommy James delivered the original in 1967 — a bright, slightly psychedelic slice of American pop that climbed to No. 4 in the US charts. A reminder that the 60s weren’t all guitars and protest songs.

Elton John – “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word”

One of Elton’s most restrained and heartbreaking ballads. Released in 1976, written with Bernie Taupin, and built around a simple piano line that carries the whole emotional weight. A song about regret that never slips into melodrama.

Kermit the Frog – “Rainbow Connection”

Jim Henson’s gentle, searching voice made this song an unlikely chart success, reaching No. 25 in 1979. Written by Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher, it’s become a modern standard — wistful, hopeful, and strangely profound for a puppet with a banjo.

Morrissey – “It’s Over”

Morrissey’s 2019 cover of the Roy Orbison classic appears on California Son, an album of reinterpretations. He leans into the drama of the song, giving it a sweeping, orchestral sadness.

Billy Odal (featuring Death in Rome) – “Connewitz”

Death in Rome have built a cult following by reimagining pop songs as neofolk dirges. Here they lend their shadowy aesthetic to Billy Odal, producing something atmospheric, unsettling, and oddly beautiful.

Mark Ronson & Miley Cyrus – “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart”

Ronson’s production meets Cyrus’s gravel‑edged vocal in a track that blends country, disco, and heartbreak. Released in 2018, it’s one of the strongest singles either artist has put out in years.

Slade – “Everyday”

A request from a long‑time reader. Slade began life as a skinhead band before becoming glam rock royalty, but “Everyday” shows a different side of them. Noddy Holder’s voice — usually associated with riotous choruses — proves surprisingly tender here.

A QUESTION TO END ON

Kermit reached the US Top 25 with “Rainbow Connection”. Can you think of another unusual song from a puppet‑related film or TV show that managed to chart as a single? Answers welcome — the stranger the better.

OTHER COUNTER CULTURE FEATURES

Songlist Specials – themed collections exploring particular scenes or eras:

Old Grey Whistle Test

West Coast Punk 1977–78

West Coast Punk (2)

West Coast Punk (3)

We’re also on X (formerly Twitter): @culture89289

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17/06/26 – Counter Culture – Midweek Song List (153)

HELLO — and welcome back to the weekly wander through the musical back‑alleys, neon-lit side streets and occasionally questionable cul‑de‑sacs of popular culture. This week’s list is a proper patchwork quilt: punk reworks, glam stompers, synth‑era paranoia, a detour through Oz, and one of the greatest acoustic reinterpretations ever committed to tape.

As always, the aim is simple: songs that spark something — memory, curiosity, argument, or just the urge to turn the volume up until the neighbours start Googling “noise complaint template”.Let’s begin.

THE SONGS

AGNOSTIC FRONT – “BLITZKRIEG BOP” (Ramones cover)

The Ramones’ 1976 original is the Big Bang of American punk — two minutes of down‑stroke guitar, bubblegum nihilism and the most famous “Hey! Ho!” in history. Agnostic Front’s version drags it forward into the New York hardcore era they helped define. Where the Ramones were bratty and pop‑leaning, Agnostic Front are all grit, concrete and sweat‑drenched basement shows. Their cover isn’t reverent — it’s a reclamation, a reminder that punk didn’t stay in CBGB’s; it mutated, toughened, and found new teeth.

THE ANIMALS – “HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN”

A folk standard with murky origins — possibly New Orleans, possibly England — but it was The Animals who electrified it in 1964 and turned it into a global phenomenon. Eric Burdon’s vocal is still astonishing: raw, haunted, almost sermon‑like. Alan Price’s organ part is one of the most recognisable in British rock history. Sixty years on, it hasn’t aged; it simply stands there, timeless, like a building you can’t believe humans ever managed to construct.

BROKEN PEACH – “PERSONAL JESUS” (Depeche Mode cover)

Depeche Mode’s 1989 original was all swaggering blues‑industrial minimalism. Broken Peach — Spain’s theatrical, Halloween‑costumed, cabaret‑punk collective — take it somewhere else entirely. Their version is part performance art, part rock revue, part fever dream. The harmonies are tight, the staging is knowingly eccentric, and the whole thing feels like Depeche Mode reimagined by Tim Burton after too much espresso.

NOEL GALLAGHER – “THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT” (The Smiths cover)

A bold move: covering one of the most beloved songs in the British indie canon. The Smiths’ 1986 original is all doomed romance and Mancunian melodrama. Noel doesn’t try to recreate that. Instead, he leans into a stripped‑back, orchestral hush — voice, guitar, and a soft swell of strings behind him. The result is unexpectedly tender. Without Marr’s shimmering arpeggios, the song feels more fragile, more human, almost confessional. A rare case of a cover that doesn’t compete with the original — it converses with it.

INXS – “NEVER TEAR US APART”

Released in 1987, this is INXS at their most cinematic. A slow‑burn ballad built on strings, saxophone and Michael Hutchence’s velvet‑and‑smoke vocal. It’s a song that feels like a memory even on first listen — a kind of widescreen romantic fatalism. Decades later, it remains one of the band’s defining moments, a reminder of Hutchence’s ability to make intimacy sound operatic.

METALLICA – “WHISKEY IN THE JAR”

A traditional Irish folk song, famously electrified by Thin Lizzy in 1973. Metallica’s 1998 version — from their covers album Garage Inc. — is heavier, chunkier, and unmistakably theirs. It’s Metallica having fun: big riffs, big drums, and James Hetfield leaning into the swagger. The song’s journey from folk ballad to hard‑rock anthem is a perfect example of how tradition survives by being reinvented.

NENA – “99 RED BALLOONS” (Long Version Mix)

Cold War paranoia wrapped in synth‑pop sugar. Released in 1983, “99 Luftballons” became a global hit in both German and English. The long version stretches out the tension — more synths, more atmosphere, more of that strangely upbeat dread. It’s a reminder of a time when nuclear anxiety sat right next to chart‑friendly pop, and nobody thought that was odd.

THE SOUND – “GLASS & SMOKE”

Adrian Borland’s band never got the recognition they deserved during their lifetime, but their influence has only grown. “Glass & Smoke” is quintessential post‑punk: brooding, melodic, emotionally flammable. Borland’s voice carries a kind of heroic vulnerability — the sound of someone trying to hold the world together with bare hands.

T. REX – “TELEGRAM SAM”

Marc Bolan at full glam‑strut. Released in 1972, “Telegram Sam” is all swaggering riffs, nonsense poetry and glitter‑dusted attitude. It’s not trying to be profound — it’s trying to be irresistible. And it succeeds. A reminder that glam rock, at its best, was both utterly ridiculous and utterly brilliant.

TIFFANY – “I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW”

Originally a 1967 hit for Tommy James & The Shondells, Tiffany’s 1987 cover turned it into a mall‑pop juggernaut. Her version is pure late‑80s: synths, drum machines, teenage yearning. It’s impossible to hear without picturing denim jackets, food courts and the last golden age of bubblegum pop.

THE WIZARD OF OZ – “IF I ONLY HAD A HEART”

From the 1939 film that practically invented modern cinematic fantasy. The Tin Man’s song is whimsical on the surface, but there’s a melancholy undercurrent — a character longing for something he believes he lacks. It’s one of those rare musical numbers that has lived far beyond its film, becoming part of the cultural bloodstream.

NEIL YOUNG – “HEART OF GOLD”

Released in 1972 on Harvest, this is Neil Young’s only US No.1 single — a fact that still surprises people. It’s folk‑rock perfection: harmonica, acoustic guitar, and Young’s unmistakable high, quivering vocal. A song about searching — for meaning, for goodness, for something unspoiled. Half a century later, the search still resonates.

And that’s your lot for this week — a playlist that zig‑zags across decades, genres and emotional weather systems. If one of these tracks sends you down a rabbit hole, mission accomplished. If several do, even better.

As always, we end with a question — and this week it’s an easy one to argue about:

Which cover version in this list improves most boldly on the original?

See you next week for more cultural excavation and sonic archaeology.

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