Milton Anderson had a dream - make that two.

“But we got wrapped up in all the showbiz stuff.” “It was meant to be young, intelligent kids reaching out and spreading the love through beautiful music,” says Lawrence. government may have tried to use them as a propaganda tool. And whether the group knew it or not, the U.S. Unlike its choircore peers, they spoke out against the Vietnam War and were sometimes politically progressive. Yet starting with the time some of the bandmates started smoking weed, the Young Americans’ story wasn’t so one-dimensional. Up With People, a multi-voiced choir from Tucson, would burst into buoyant folk pop numbers like “What Color Is God’s Skin” and their “Up with People” theme song (“If more people were for people/All people everywhere/There’d be a lot less people to worry about”) along with “The Star-Spangled Banner.” As one of its members said at the time, “I’m fed up with the image of American youth being created by beatniks, draft-card burners, campus rioters and protest marchers.” Johnny Mann, who sang backup on early rock & roll records by Eddie Cochran, formed the Johnny Mann Singers, who turned the Yardbirds’ “Heart Full of Soul” and other rock-era tunes into barbershop pop and starred in their own syndicated variety show, Stand Up and Cheer! Their harmonies swarmed around Sammy Davis Jr. Dubbed in one article of the time as “a dozen or so of the most wholesome-looking young folks you’ve seen this side of Disneyland,” the Congregation sang cheery, lusty, hardy-voiced versions of Robbie Robertson’s “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” and the Beatles’ “Come Together” - like Lawrence Welk after he’d stumbled upon FM radio. The choircore brigade included the Mike Curb Congregation, led by the songwriter, producer and future Republican lieutenant governor of California. And for a time, it worked choircore groups toured the country, popped up regularly on variety shows, recorded for major labels, scored the occasional hit single and - way before Kid Rock and Ted Nugent - were invited to the White House for PR-stunt purposes. With choircore, adults were able to pretend that the rock & roll revolution wasn’t really happening - or, at least, to maybe ensure that some of the youth of the Sixties didn’t fall prey to it by offering up another, more virtuous option. This style – let’s call it choircore – offered a bizarro alternative to sex, drugs and rock & roll, replacing it with chasteness, soda pop and show tunes, along with the occasional Simon and Garfunkel, Leonard Cohen or soul cover. Some were happy to sing pre-rock standards like “Swanee” or songs from Oklahoma! while dancing in lavishly choreographed numbers and wearing matching sweaters. Rock & roll may have dominated the Sixties, but not every teenager or early twentysomething back then was taken with electric guitars, cryptic Dylan lyrics or Sgt. The Beatles in India: 16 Things You Didn't Know

Download tap tap glee for android