Your classic song about a songwriter but not written by that songwriter is “P.F. Sloan,” about the songwriter of the same name. The song itself was written by Sloan’s friend, fellow songwriter Jimmy Webb, and performed (in its best-known version) by the Association. Jimmy first released the song on his 1970 solo album, Words and Music; the Association then released it on their 1971 album, Stop Your Motor. They also released it as a single, although it didn’t chart.
P.F. Sloan was Philip “Flip” Sloan, a successful producer and songwriter back in the 1960s. He was just 16 years old when he joined the songwriting staff at Screen Gems Records. That’s where he met fellow songwriter Steve Barri, with whom he partnered on hits for a large number of artists of the era, including Herman’s Hermits (“A Must to Avoid”), Johnny Rivers (“Secret Agent Man”), The Turtles (“You Baby”), and The Grass Roots (“Where Were You When I Needed You” and “Things I Should Have Said”). The two of them were the driving force for Lou Adler’s Dunhill Records label up through the end of the decade. In addition, Phil wrote many songs on his own, the best-known being a former Classic Song of the Day, “Eve of Destruction,” which was a #1 hit for Barry McGuire.
Unfortunately, despite his success in the industry (and this song written about him), P.F. Sloan never became a household name like some other songwriters of the time, like Jimmy Webb, Burt Bacharach, and Randy Newman. That’s a shame, because Phil’s volume of work is second to none.
Trying to make a bigger name for himself, Phil left Dunhill and his partner Barri in 1968 for a solo career. That gambit, unfortunately, didn’t pay off, and Phil pretty much dropped out of the music scene in 1969. He didn’t really return in a major way until 2005, when he did some recordings in Nashville that were released as the album Sailover the following year.
Going back a few years, in 1968 Phil Sloan met a young songwriter named Jimmy Webb. The first song young Jimmy played for only slightly older old-hand Phil was “Wichita Lineman,” and the old pro was bowled over. In Phil’s words, “He played a couple of chords and began to unload. I was aware immediately that I was listening to a songwriter’s voice. It was filled with feeling and emotion. Most songwriters don’t have a voice, but this one was haunting and unusual and raw and wonderful.” Phil took Jimmy under his wing and watched as his protégé became one of the most influential songwriters of the 20th century.
You might think that the song “P.F. Sloan” was written about Phil’s years away from the music business, but it wasn’t. Jimmy wrote the song while Phil was still a player. Here’s the story, in Jimmy’s words:
“One night, [Sloan] and I went to see Randy Newman at the Troubadour. We all agreed to come back to my house and play some pool. We were in separate cars, and about halfway there, I realized that PF’s car had gone. He’d missed the turn, I guess. We went to my house and everybody said, ‘What happened to P?’ So I started thinking. The song seemed like a funny idea at first, then it became a serious piece about a line of communication between writers and the public.”
Jimmy further explains the meaning of the song:
“‘P.F. Sloan’ is the heroic figure of the songwriter who goes on and keeps writing no matter what.”
It’s a song about how true talent endures.
“P.F. Sloan” is also a wonderful piece of songcraft. First, there’s Jimmy Webb’s typically brilliant lyrics. Nothing too in-depth here, on the surface an ode to a missing friend but also, as Mr. Webb explained, a celebration of the perseverance of art and artists. I particularly like the description of the artist in the final verse, a perfect example of Jimmy’s expert way with words:
Last time I saw P.F. Sloan
He was summer burned and winter blown
He turned the corner all alone
But he continued singin’
Then there’s the melody—and boy, what a melody. That chorus is just so damned catchy you can’t get it out of your head. I play this song once and I’m singing “No no no no, no no no no,” all day long. Don’t tell me not to sing it, Jimmy, I can’t help it.
In addition to the Association’s version of the song, “P.F. Sloan” has been recorded by Jennifer Warnes, Larry Coryell, Cassell Webb, and as a duet between Jimmy and Jackson Browne on Jimmy’s 2010 album of duets, Just Across the River. I particularly like this live version of the song by British singer Rumer, captured in 2014. Not only does Rumer have a silky voice, reminiscent of Karen Carpenter’s, but Phil Sloan himself comes onstage to sing it with her. It’s charming.
A little over a year after that performance, on November 15, 2015, P.F. Sloane passed away from pancreatic cancer. He was 70 years old. But we’re still singing his songs, and always will.
