Word: rado
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...body is walking in space/ My soul is in orbit with God, face to face," the eerie voices tell us, and we can believe in their moonglow-bathed hallucinations. But no sooner is the mood established, than composer Galt Mac Dermot and lyricists Gerome Ragni and James Rado destroy it by tipping their hats to the Times Square crowd. All of a sudden the chorus hippies are yelling out a catalogue of hallucinatory cliches ("Red Light! White light. Your skin is soft!")--and the music descends into vulgarized pop-isms reminiscent of that TV monstrosity Hullabaloo. Why? Presumably to give...
...another number called "Be-In") have too much Broadway sound and too many lyrics that only Life would find hip, some of the others are honest, simple and firmly based in the rock music vocabulary of the pre-Sgt. Pepper's and Hendrix days. One of the authors. Rado, does "Manchester England," a piece happily in the early-Stones idiom in which he asserts, "I believe in God/ And I believe that God believes in Claude/ That's me." this and others (particularly, the very similar "I Got Life") have an optimistic tone that is nicely unfull of shit...
What holds Hair together is the score, which pulses with an insistent, primitive beat. With gleeful impertinence, the music by Gait MacDermot and the lyrics of Gerome Ragni and James Rado manage to release the pent-up yelps of the sons and daughters of the affluent society. A song like Ain't Got No ("Ain't got no class,/Ain't got no mother,/Ain't got no father,/Ain't got no culture") telegraphs the credo of the self-proclaimed have-nots of the '60s. Satire with a playful nip makes a treat...