The Mamas & the Papas
The Papas & The Mamas

THE REVIEW

This is the fourth album of the Californian vocal quartet (1968), the last one before the breakup. There will be a fifth and very last record, a few years later, as a result of an ephemeral reconciliation attempt.

This record is the inevitable representation of a troubled partnership, relational even before artistic: because Cass Elliot, the overweight one, was in love with Denny, the guy next to her on the right; however, he preferred sleeping with Michelle, the prettier one closer over here; but she was married to John, the other one on the left with the hawk-like mustache. And John was upset about it, even though it was the time of free love, and despite Mama’s & Papa’s being from the start seen as musical heralds of the hippie counter-culture, which, among other things, advocated the open couple.

The crisis is so deep that the standout track among the twelve, by far the best of this work, is a cover. “Dream a Little Dream of Me” is a classic of the thirties(!), grandly relaunched and well-known only and solely thanks to this version. Much credit goes to Elliot: Mama Cass decides to perform it in a “throwaway” style, almost as if she were still learning to sing it, toning down the emphasis and proverbial power of her intense voice and delivering an almost intimate vocal. It seems she sings with the lyrics in front of her, careful not to lose the words. She even gets to whistle toward the end!

The melody of this song, rendered in this manner, is immortal, sublime, intimate yet interesting, and captivating from the first to the last note. For once, her singing partners do little to nothing around her, some discreet murmuring, some uuh and aah, none of the uproar of counter-singing, counterpoints, harmonies, unisons that usually characterize and energize their songs, making Mama’s & Papa’s choral style peculiar and famous.

For the record, those wolves from the record company had the bright idea of releasing the track as a single, attributing it to “Mama Cass with the Mama’s & the Papa’s,” also taking advantage of the fact that the first few seconds of the recording reveal the last moments in the studio before the instruments start, and you can distinctly hear mate John Phillips introducing “Mama Cass, who will sing us this lovely ballad…”. The three get angry, and the record executives' bright idea is a good way to end friendship and partnership.

Little of importance is revealed in the rest of the album. Here and there, the renowned, flamboyant, articulated chorus or counterpoint parts elevate the quality of the pop songs: let’s say in “For the Love of Ivy” and “Gemini Childe”. Of course, Mama Cass Elliot and Michelle Phillips were made to sing together! Cass with a thick and powerful contralto voice, Michelle with such a radiant and clear mezzo-soprano tone, enriching and illuminating their unison singing, truly unmatched.

There are also entirely modest tracks: first of all the prologue “The Right Somebody to Love” which isn’t even a song, but rather four Phillips’ chats on love blah blah. Then “Meditation Mama” which features a very rare sortie of husband John as the lead voice, proving how he was the composer, the brain of the group but also the least gifted voice.

Listening to these records is always worthwhile, even if just to savor the scents of that era (late '60s) ambitious yet incomparable, naïve yet creative, chaotic but invigorating.