Tag Archives: B.W. Stevenson

Hey Now! She’s MY Maria, B.W. Stevenson

6 Jan

Remember how we went on and on in an earlier post about rediscovering music we thought was lost to the sands of time? No? Well, read it after you’re done here. You won’t be disappointed. And if you are (disappointed, we mean — which you won’t be), you are Kim Jong-un. That’s kind of a stupid insult but we just wanted to fit the little chubwhack in somehow today.

Chubby World Leader

So anyway, we were fans many years ago of the oldies from the 1960′s and 1970′s. For a stretch of about a year or so, that’s all we listened to. Nothing further forward than about 1980. Up until disco died. Stuff before that historical signpost was free game. Except we had hit a mellow, poppy sort of slump, so no Black Sabbath and the like for a while. It was like we went to a monastery. Except that the nuns looked like Diana Summer and the monks looked like … Diana Summer also. What?

Onward. This time period is where we heard such luscious hits as “In the Summertime” by Jerry Mungo, “You Sexy Thing” by Hot Chocolate, “Shambala” by Three Dog Night (wait for it*), “Brandy” by Looking Glass, and “Oh What a Night” by The Four Seasons. We smiled ourselves silly with “Under the Boardwalk” by The Drifters, “Lightin’ Strikes” by Lou Christie, and “Blue Moon” by The Marcels. We even occasionally enjoyed some bubblegum with The Jacksons and Young Stevie Wonder. We have no regrets.

Some of the songs just kind of got lost in the shuffle. We heard them and loved them, but never really paid attention to who the artist might be or what the song title was. After a while, we lost interest in the music from this period and a bunch of songs we heard were forgotten. But one song in particular stuck in our head and would come back in spurts of foggy memory every once in a while. The problem is that all we could remember was the word “Maria” and that the singer went into falsetto during the chorus. Anyway, every once in a while, we would remember that we didn’t remember who did the song or what the song was called, so we’d do a few lazy searches but never found anything that sounded right. Doh! We were clearly approaching our recollection incorrectly. Perhaps lyrics from other songs were getting jumbled in? We don’t remember. And now we don’t care. And we imagine you don’t either because we can hear you whispering, “get on with it!”

Yesterday a coworker was playing some oldies and it occurred to us that perhaps he would know the song. He’s sort of a walking encyclopedia of mainstream rock/pop music from that era. Let’s call him “Steve” for the purposes of this post (which is really convenient, since his real name is Steve). After briefly explaining what little we could remember, “Steve” said “Oh, you’re probably talking about a song called ‘My Maria’ by B.W. Stevenson.” He found it on Youtube and played it for us. Yep, that was it. Sweet!

So, now you either get to relive a moment of your own recollection or get introduced to one of ours.

Holy Smoke in the House, B. W. Stevenson! Is that you under all that hair?!

My Maria

Good gravy. NOTHING was pretty about the 1970′s, was it?

*And we also learned yesterday that B. W. Stevenson actually covered “Shambala” just before Three Dog Night. Funny how small the world is, isn’t it?

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