'70s Love Songs

It was the golden age of polyester double-knit leisure suits and afternoon delights; if you wanted to make the smooth moves, you tuned your dial to the late-night, laid-back FM DJs spinning their web of sonic sensuality. Marvin Gaye sets the platinum standard for steamy-sweet '70s-style seduction in the soulful swoon of "Let's Get It On." Paul McCartney weaves back and forth between wide-eyed astonishment at his good fortune and a larynx-shredding declaration of devotion in "Maybe I'm Amazed." Nashville legend Dolly Parton pledges her everlasting commitment in the countrypolitan simplicity of "I Will Always Love You," and Dan Hill channels that feeling of complete emotional helplessness that tends to afflict the love-stricken, on "Sometimes When We Touch." Since the '70s was the launch pad that propelled the singer-songwriter movement into the stratosphere, in our Next Steps we'll hear from several who defined both the sound and the era.

Seems simple enough: a gal (or a guy), a guitar (or a piano), and a song. But something remarkable happened in the '70s' chemistry that transformed the singer-songwriter from coffeehouse bohemian into recording royalty, yielding a bumper crop of musicians who still shape the sound of pop. The master-blaster of Belfast soul, Van Morrison, lays some tender pillow-talk props on his main squeeze in "Crazy Love," demonstrating his kinder, gentler side. Meanwhile, Carly Simon's title-credit ode to superspy James Bond, "Nobody Does It Better," opens with unadorned piano and vocal, building to a string-laden extravaganza that leaves you stirred, not shaken. And Shirley Eikhard (whose "Something to Talk About" was a hit for Bonnie Raitt in the '90s), blends passion with elegance on "Say You Love Me." In Deep Cuts, we get a little prog rock, some blue-eyed soul, and some David Soul.

In the psychic (and generational) space between John Wayne and Arnold Schwarzenegger, M*A*S*H's Alan Alda emerged as the '70s' Sensitive Man, and it wasn't long before pop stars of every shape and size followed his lead. Back in 1968, when Philly's blue-eyed soul star Todd Rundgren's band the Nazz tried their hand at the shucks-I'm-shy uncertainty of "Hello It's Me," it sank without a trace, but Rundgren buffs it out to a high-gloss polish in his solo version, giving him the biggest hit of his career. Actor-turned-teen-pop-idol David Soul scored his only #1 hit after soaring to the top of the Nielsens as co-star of Starsky & Hutch with his honey-sweetened plea for one final chance in "Don't Give Up On Us." And Brit prog-rockers 10cc keep their upper lip pretty stiff in the stone-gorgeous studio wizardry behind the nonchalance of "I'm Not in Love" — right up until a woman's voice interrupts their casual cool with, "Be quiet, big boys don't cry." Busted!

The '60s was a decade that ended in turmoil, so in the '70s we decided to open a bottle of Mateus Rosé, turn the lights down low, and get into a mellow groove. Singer-songwriters like Van Morrison, Billy Joel, and Dan Fogelberg dominated the 'burb-bound airwaves, but downtown, there was a whole kettle of soulful goodness simmering, with the likes of Al Green, the Chi-Lites, and Roberta Flack singing it low and sweet. Even British Invaders, including Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones, and the Hollies, retooled their post-Summer of Love sounds for the coolest decade ever captured on 8-track tape. Slip into a pair of Birkenstocks or put on your platform shoes, dig out the old tube top and follow us back to those pre-MTV days when Farrah Fawcett and Barry Manilow feathered their golden locks and everyone was Having a Nice Day.