Edit 2 for headphones, November 2022. Source file for the edit is the album "Eve Of Destruction" (2006 remaster). According to Barry, the song was recorded in one take on a Thursday morning (singing the lyrics from words scrawled on a crumpled piece of paper). The recording includes an "ehhh" where he could not read the words (at 0.53-0.54). Barry then got a call from the record company at 7.00 the next Monday morning, telling him to turn on the radio: his song was playing.
Which i.m.o. is not true, for at 3.04 you can clearly hear that "over and over" is inserted later on over the "me" of the line "tell me"...
A protest song ** about political issues of the '60s, many radio stations refused to play it because of its antigovernment lyrics. Ever consulted a dictionary for the word "assholes"? Or for the expression "hypocritical jerks"? There was an upside to this controversy, however, as it sparked interest in the song, sending it to no 1 in the US.
Vocals: Barry Mcguire. Bass: Larry Knechtel. Drums: Hal Blaine. Guitar: P.F. Sloan, Tommy Tedesco. Percussion: Steve Barri.
EVE OF DESTRUCTION
(Philip Gary Schlein *)
The eastern world it is explodin'
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin'
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Don't you understand, what I'm trying to say?
And Can't you feel the fear that I'm feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there's no running away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin'
I'm sittin' here, just contemplatin'
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation
Handful of Senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin'
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin'
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
Think of all the hate there is in Red China!
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!
Ah, you may leave here, for eight days in space
But when your return, it's the same old place
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor, but don't forget to say grace
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction
* aka P. F. Sloan. He was an American pop-rock singer and songwriter. He was very successful during the mid-1960s, writing, performing, and producing Billboard top 20 hits for various artists.
