The scent of dust motes dancing in a sunlit parlor, the faint, ozone tang of an old tube radio warming up, the thrill of a dial sweeping past distant stations—this is the scene I carry for the British Invasion’s second wave. It’s a feeling intrinsically linked to the fierce, undeniable simplicity of The Dave Clark Five. The DC5, with their Tottenham Sound, always seemed to come to me through that domestic, slightly grainy lens, delivering their punchy, driving rhythm directly into the suburban living room.
No single piece of music captures that feeling of concentrated kinetic energy better than their 1965 single, “I Like It Like That.” It’s an American song, originally a 1961 R&B hit by Chris Kenner and Allen Toussaint. This is a crucial detail, for the DC5 didn’t just cover it; they steamrolled it, rebuilding the New Orleans stroll into a relentless, British beat engine. Released in the US in June 1965, the single became a substantial transatlantic hit, peaking strongly in the Billboard Hot 100, and later lending its title to their seventh American album, I Like It Like That, released later that year.
The Architect of Sound: Clark’s Wall of Volume
The defining characteristic of The Dave Clark Five was, naturally, the drummer and leader, Dave Clark. He also held the producer’s chair. This control allowed him to sculpt a sound that was less jangly pop and more thunderous, a production aesthetic that stood in sharp contrast to their Liverpudlian peers. With Clark’s relentless, high-volume drumming—often reportedly mic’d to capture the entire room’s reverberation—the DC5 carved out a unique space.
This cover, clocking in at a breathless one minute and forty seconds, is a masterclass in economy and controlled chaos. From the very first measure, the track assaults the listener with a staggering wall of sound. The rhythm section is locked down, but with a palpable looseness that suggests a band straining at the leash. Rick Huxley’s bass guitar is a deep, rubbery throb, anchoring the manic tempo and fighting to be heard beneath the roar.
The instrumentation is deceptively simple: drums, bass, tenor saxophone, and the layered crunch of two guitars, with Mike Smith’s vocals and piano riding over the top. Smith’s vocal delivery here is pure, unvarnished urgency. He belts the lyrics with a raw, almost desperate enthusiasm that mirrors the song’s subject—a frantic invitation to a place where the party never stops. There is no subtle phrasing; only a powerful, straight-ahead shout that is almost completely unadorned by studio trickery.
The key to the Tottenham Sound—and to this track—is the specific arrangement of the auxiliary instruments. Lenny Davidson’s lead guitar is an aggressive foil to the rhythm, delivering sharp, quick-decaying jabs that slice through the mix rather than soaring over it. The unsung hero, however, is Denis Payton’s tenor saxophone. It’s not a jazz solo device but an integral textural element, adding a fat, honking cushion that blends with the overdriven guitars. It’s a sound that instantly distinguishes the DC5’s sonic signature from almost every other British Invasion band.
The Engine Room: Percussion, Piano, and Premium Audio
It’s impossible to talk about the DC5 without discussing the drum sound. Clark’s kit is mixed absolutely front and center, a cavernous, booming sound that gives the record its visceral thrill. The combination of a tightly mic’d snare attack and the ambient reverb of a small recording space gives the drums a massive, concussive impact. Listening to this on premium audio equipment today reveals the sheer density of the original mono mix, a deliberate crushing of the dynamic range that maximizes the perceived volume.
Mike Smith’s role at the piano is equally vital. Unlike the lighter, almost baroque touches found in some of their contemporaries’ tracks, Smith’s playing here is a percussive, block-chord bedrock. He hammers out the insistent, simple chords, acting almost as a fifth rhythm instrument. The piano’s tone is slightly muffled and compressed, contributing to the track’s sense of controlled sonic overload.
“The relentless, compressed thunder of the rhythm section feels less like an invitation and more like an ultimatum.”
This song is not about finesse; it’s about a direct, joyful catharsis. The lyrics are an invitation to a happening spot, a declaration that simple, uninhibited fun is the only necessary agenda. This directness resonated deeply with a mid-sixties American audience seeking a louder, more immediate soundtrack to their youth. The brief runtime ensures there’s no room for meandering or introspection. It’s a quick, sharp shot of musical adrenaline. The abrupt, almost immediate fade-out leaves the listener wanting more, perfectly capturing the spirit of a sudden, unforgettable moment.
The Enduring Appeal of Raw Power
In an era where many bands were exploring sophisticated melodies or complex lyrical narratives, the Dave Clark Five chose to double down on raw, elemental beat music. Their version of “I Like It Like That” is a perfect example of their place in the rock and roll lineage: bridging the gap between Chuck Berry’s propulsion and the coming garage-rock minimalism. Its energy remains undiminished. Imagine driving on a back road, windows down, the radio volume cranked to the limit—this is the song that should blast through the speakers. Even now, decades later, its punch is undeniable. For aspiring musicians learning classic rock, this track offers a fascinating study in minimalist yet maximalist arrangement. It’s a masterclass in how a handful of instruments, tightly focused and recorded with conviction, can create a sound larger than an orchestra. The track’s continued life in film and television soundtracks proves its timeless capacity to signal immediate, carefree fun.
🎧 Listening Recommendations
- The Animals – “We Gotta Get Out of This Place”: Shares the DC5’s urgency and raw, working-class energy, though with a bluesier foundation.
- The Troggs – “Wild Thing”: A similar commitment to simple, primal energy, showcasing garage rock at its most essential and short-form.
- The Kingsmen – “Louie Louie”: Connects to the DC5’s willingness to co-opt and turbo-charge an American R&B staple with a raw, semi-shouted vocal.
- Paul Revere & The Raiders – “Kicks”: Features the same blend of driving rhythm and powerful, pop-conscious vocals with an unpretentious spirit.
- The Seeds – “Pushin’ Too Hard”: A perfect counterpart for its short, frantic pacing and aggressive, overdriven instrumental texture.
- The Standells – “Dirty Water”: Captures a similar ’60s raw, beat-driven grit and is built around a simple, effective riff.