“Well, I think I’m going out of my head,” the singer’s words burst out of the car’s radio circling the space. December 1964, I’m 10, in my Uncle George’s 1961 Impala. It still smelled new, Georgie was like that. I’m in the back of the big car by myself; upfront is my gorgeous Aunt Joan. Being alone with them was like being in an Elvis movie.
This song stunned me, it was so good. Little Anthony passionately sung and the orchestra kept lifting after silent drops, with a sweet girl chorus joining in at the right time. I fell for this song as hard as I ever fell for any girl in my whole life. Fortunately, the crush is already reciprocated and all you have to do to keep loving it, and hope it doesn’t hit Number #1 because if it does, then it will be over played on the radio to the point that you want to shoot the singer.
It was the orchestra that nailed my heart to this record. The thundering instruments working together with the pleading singer turned the song into a movie. The inside of the Impala was the 86th RKO. I was a weird kid; I bought the soundtracks to Doctor Zhivago and Ben Hur. Mom thought I was losing it, but it pleased my father who hated our music. I still listen to those Lps on my turntable.
I was a lucky 10 years old boy in 1964 ~ delighted daily by the explosion of music from