Song of the Day 8/22: The Righteous Brothers, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”

People might not realize it today, but radio was once nearly as segregated as schools and swimming pools were. White stations played white musicians for white audiences, black stations did the opposite, and little music crossed over between them. That’s why Pat Boone could sell millions of records making sanitized covers of R&B hits by singers like Fats Domino and Little Richard — most white kids never heard the originals.

Those barriers were crumbling by the early ’60s, when a California band called the Paramours fell apart, leaving vocalists Bill Medley and Bobby Hatfield to carry on as a duo. They sounded soulful from the start — they got their name when they played at an air force base in Irvine and an airman in the audience shauted, “That’s righteous, brothers!” — but they didn’t hit big until Phil Spector heard them and made a deal to produce and distribute them through his Phillies Records label.

Spector commissioned Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil to write them a hit, and they came up with a classic that showcased Medley’s baritone while leaving Hatfield enough room to show off his countertenor range. Mann’s music was influenced by the Four Tops’ contemporaneous hit “Baby I Need Your Loving,” and Weil’s killer first line — “You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips” — flipped an image from their earlier composition “I Love How You Love Me,” which included the line “I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me.”

They were having trouble coming up with a bridge, and Spector earned a writing credit by crafting one from the riff from “Hang On Sloopy.” He also produced what his fans consider one of the finest examples of his Wall of Sound.

Because Spector’s label had signed only black artists before them, many DJs assumed this duo was black, too — Medley said more than one was surprised when they showed up for on-air interviews. Legendary Philadelphia DJ Georgie Woods is credited with calling them his “blue-eyed soul brothers,” a term that not only stuck but grew to encompass any soul music performed by white singers.

The record soared to No. 1 in early 1965 and has never stopped bowling people over — BMI said it was the most-played song on American TV and radio of the 20th century.

There’s a whole genre of YouTube “reaction” videos showing young people as they hear old songs for the first time. More than one of these reactors is shocked to realize Medley and Hatfield are white. This one’s a good example — ABtheKreator starts the song at about the 2-minute mark.