Album Review: Eternity’s Children — s/t

One of the idiosyncratic qualities of pop music – or at least of the critical examination thereof – is the post-dated creation of subgenres. I’m thinking here of freakbeat, garage-punk and the like. Those terms didn’t exist at the time, but they’re used retroactively to describe and categorize music made ages ago. Most artists bristle at being pigeonholed, but there’s undeniable value in classifying music, at least to some degree: we can’t listen to all of it, so the occasional guidepost can help.

“Sunshine pop” is another of those. “Baroque pop” might have gained some traction as a label when the Left Banke was making records. The Association, The Millennium and so on; they made the stuff that was gentle, refined, sophisticated and often damn catchy.

Eternity’s Children fall into that bag as well. Few then or now would expect such a group to come out of Mississippi, especially in the mid ‘60s. But they did. The group moved to the port city of Biloxi to make it big (ha) and did in fact gain a measure of fame (and, more importantly, steady work). They also landed a deal with A&M Records, a label then known for Herb Alpert, Sergio Mendes, Boyce & Hart and others. Not the rocking-est stable, but quality indeed.

Eternity’s Children managed to cut a pair of albums. Their self-titled debut came out in 1968, by which time sunshine pop was at its peak, soon to eclipse (so to speak). The album was produced by Curt Boettcher (the man responsible for Sagittarius and other wide-screen pop gems) and Keith Olsen (of the Music Machine(!) and later producer of Fleetwood Mac). All involved did a superb job, and for fans of the style, the cult favorite Eternity’s Children is a fascinating document, an exemplar of the style.

The band goes all bossa nova on “My Happiness Day,” but for most of the rest of the ten-track LP, it’s rays of melancholy sunshine, with a bit of bouncy pop on cuts like “Lifetime Day.” (The end bit of the song rocks out in an unexpectedly psychedelic way.) Fans of any of the aforementioned acts – and of, say, the Cowsills – will enjoy this preserved-in-amber music.

Both sides of the group’s third single – “Mrs. Bluebird” and “Little Boy” are included here. In May ‘68, that 45 r.p.m. release made it to no. 59 on Billboard’s chart, and a bit higher on the Cashbox chart.

High Moon’s lovingly reissued set comes in a super-sturdy gatefold sleeve that recreates the original album art. And the gatefold opens to reveal photos, ephemera and – most important – a well-researched essay by Steve Stanley, one that charts the history of this overlooked band.

Click here for a quick look at the second album from Eternity’s Children, also newly reissued.