Sometimes art and events, personal or otherwise, converge on a point transcending the significance of either -- a work achieves a relevance far beyond the seeming boundaries of the creation at hand. During the 1950s and 1960s, in music, it used to happen occasionally for Elvis Presley, the Beatles, and Bob Dylan, once or twice for the Byrds, and a few times for the Beach Boys and the Rolling Stones. For the Mamas & the Papas, it happened twice, with their first album, If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, and, on a more complex level, with this album -- which was astonishing, given that they had a major upheaval in their membership in the midst of recording it. The Mamas & the Papas (also sometimes referred to as "Cass- John-Michelle-Denny," which might well have been the official title until that lineup started to shift) was recorded over a period of almost four months, in the wake of the massive success of their first two singles and the debut album, issued in February of 1966. The members were riding a whirlwind in the spring of 1966, which showed -- along with a lot more -- in this album's unintentionally revealing cover photo, depicting all four of them framed in a window, the other three standing while Michelle Phillips reclined in front, bisecting the trio behind her. She looks happy, even pleased with herself, while the others look just a little tired, even fatigued -- a lot like the Beatles did on the cover of Beatles for Sale, the main difference being that the latter album was made two years into their international success, while this album was just a few months into the Mamas & the Papas' history as a recording act. If the demands and rewards of success -- the concerts, the money, the drugs, and the need to keep up the quality -- were causing the group to burn the candle at both ends, Michelle Phillips' extra-curricular romantic activities with Denny Doherty burned it right through the middle, and did a lot more than bisect the group -- it disrupted all of the interlocking relationships, including her marriage to John Phillips and any trust that she shared with Cass Elliot (who had long adored Doherty), as well as greatly complicating Doherty's relationships with all of them; and another problem was her relationship with Gene Clark, formerly the best singer and songwriter in the Byrds, with whom she was flirting very publicly and spending lots of time with in private during that season. Phillips was finally dropped from the group in late June and replaced by Jill Gibson, a friend of the band, a girlfriend of producer Lou Adler, and a good singer who did a few shows with them before it was decided that they needed Phillips back -- at one point, a cover photo with Gibson replacing her in the window was prepared, but it was never used, though billboards of that shot were put up to promote the upcoming release. Gibson did end up on parts of the album, but precisely where is one of the great unanswered questions to this day. As to the album, it still holds up magnificently as music, and shows how, even juggling live performances, television appearances, a marriage going bad, and Lord knows what drugs in his life, John Phillips could think on his feet and create like few people this side of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Martin, and get the others to work it his way -- "No Salt on Her Tail" started life as a backing track to a Rodgers & Hart song on a television special that Phillips thought was too good not to use on one of his own songs, and he wrote one just for that track that was more than good enough to open the album. Indeed, the song has an almost tragic beauty about it -- one gets a strong sense of sadness behind the words and the music and between the lead vocals and the soaring harmonies, while uncredited guest organist Ray Manzarek of the not yet famous or especially successful Doors plays an Al Kooper-ish, "Like a Rolling Stone"-style keyboard; Hal Blaine's drums and Joe Osbo to be continued...

Rovi