THE ANIMALS - “House Of The Rising Sun”
(11th July 1964)
Nik Cohn’s AwopBopaLooBopaLopBamBoom is the best book on Sixties pop, it makes everything else seem like marginalia. He’s almost always right, so I only ever open it when I’m stumped by a record. And “House Of The Rising Sun” stumped me. What does Nik have to say about it? He nails the British ‘blues boom’ as an Art School fad - seems fair to me. He has a healthy suspicion of suburban boys singing - no, performing - the blues. His take on Eric Burdon makes a lot of sense - “he’s always been trendy and painfully sincere, a tough combination to handle”. He also says that this one is a great record, and I may grudgingly have to concede.
When I used to occasionally bump into “House Of The Rising Sun” on the radio it seemed like a seriously boring track. Even the secret knowledge that it was about a (whisper it) whorehouse couldn’t rescue it. Slow pace, phoney Transatlantic accent, effort as a shorthand for emotion - yes, it checks my bad boxes. But when I pay more attention I can hear what’s special in the record. For one thing Eric Burdon doesn’t really sing the song, he surfs on it. Once you’re past the first verse it’s like he’s not even sure what the words are, he’s just swaying and howling, rising and falling over the roil of the band, letting the music drag and carry him.
And the band have a good day to say the least. As soon as Alan Price comes in on organ the song steps it up and the last couple of minutes are irresistible, total confidence and aggression, with Price dancing and jabbing through any gaps he can find. I can only think I never got to the end before. Close listening can’t make me love the song but I can manage a wary admiration. 6

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bramble on September 8th, 2006
It is usually Eric Burdon that people remember as the key one of the Animals but Alan Price, though jumping ship fairly early, was a crucial part of their sound, and his replacement Dave Rowberry never had the same skill. If you listen to Alan Price’s post-Animals work with the Alan Price Set, Georgie Fame and on his own (Lucky Man, Jarrow Song), it stands up far more today than anything done by Eric Burdon or the New Animals.
Lena on April 16th, 2007
I like “We’ve Gotta Get Out of This Place” more than this one, but its intensity (complete with the ‘hog-calling’ voice of Burdon [Lester Bangs in Rolling Stone History of Rock 'n' Roll]) keeps it on the oldies show I listen to, and I always listen to it, as Burdon & Price & Co. lose themselves in the song.
rosie on June 4th, 2008
Have I mentioned before - perhaps in the Haloscan era - that this was my absolute seminal pop experience? My Sex Pistols moment, if you like? Me being only 9 years old when it hit the top, and I dare say an odd sort of song for a 9-year-old to be besotted with. But then I was an odd sort of 9-year-old, and loving this put one over on Cliff-besotted (well, Paul McCartney- besotted by this time I think) Big Sister?
In my early days of following Popular I was quietly tipping this as Tom’s first 10, and I was disappointed, nay outraged, by a piddling 6! This is a record to thrill, and no mistake. Nor does it sound one little bit stale 44 years on.
wichita lineman on June 5th, 2008
It’s never quite made it for me, either, possibly because of Burdon’s voice which absolutely reflects Nik Cohn’s description. I haven’t tried but it sounds impossible to dance to.
We’ve Got To Get Out Of This Place builds like an avalanche (can’t think of a shipbuilding analogy there) only to fall flat on the chorus where it sounds like half the instruments, notably the guitar, drop out of the mix. This might be sacrilege, but maybe Mickie Most didn’t serve their too well.
The two singles they released on Decca in ‘66 before they split fulfil the soot’n'dust-toughened promise for me: the one-chord Inside Looking Out (sung from a prisoner’s perspective) and Goffin/King’s fuzzed-up psychodrama Don’t Bring Me Down. Both decent sized hits but totally forgotten by radio.
Then again, my downer on the Alan Price Animals might be influenced by Alfie Darling, the 1975 film I watched last night with Price reprising Michael Caine’s role. He’s a truck driver criss crossing Europe. Dalliances? There are many (Rula Lenska as a French truckstop owner’s wife!). And that’s it. Beyond dismal.