The year is 1965. The air across Britain is thick with the crackle of overdriven guitar amplifiers and the primal snarl of R&B. Yet, tucked away on the Piccadilly label—a subsidiary of Pye Records—a pristine, almost impossibly bright counter-narrative was being meticulously stitched together. This sound belonged to The Ivy League, a trio whose session-musician pedigree and vocal prowess set them apart from the garage-rocking pack. Their sophomore single, “Funny How Love Can Be,” was a conscious effort to move beyond the tepid reception of their debut, and in doing so, they created a benchmark piece of music for the coming wave of orchestral, melody-first pop.
The song landed in January 1965, swiftly climbing the UK Singles Chart to peak modestly, yet significantly, at number eight. It was a crucial early success for the core members—John Carter, Ken Lewis, and Perry Ford—and an essential stepping stone on the path to their more globally recognized smash, “Tossing and Turning,” later that year. This single was the foundation of their career arc, proving that their high-register, multi-tracked vocal sound could translate into popular success. Although the original trio released an album later that year, This Is The Ivy League, “Funny How Love Can Be” functions best as a standalone statement, a shining 45 on its own terms. Production duties were handled by Terry Kennedy, with songwriting shared between Carter and Lewis, a partnership that would become legendary for its melodic gifts.
The Falsetto and the Filigree
From the very first measure, “Funny How Love Can Be” announces its difference. It avoids the blues-based grit that defined so much of the era’s British invasion output. Instead, it offers a baroque pop flourish—a piano figure dancing quickly over a martial snare drum. The song opens with an almost classical sensibility, built on descending melodic lines and a tight, clipped rhythm section that gives the track a buoyant momentum without ever feeling rushed.
The instrumentation is a masterclass in controlled dynamics. The rhythm guitar is clean, playing sharp, rhythmic chords that lock perfectly with the drums and bass. The bassline, in particular, is an unsung hero, walking with a melodic certainty that underpins the entire structure. Crucially, the texture is thickened not by heavy fuzz or feedback, but by the application of string-like sounds (either real strings, or a skillfully deployed Mellotron/chamberlin, which was not unheard of in session work by this point), which add an emotional sweep to the central chorus.
The true focus, however, is the harmony. The Ivy League’s voices—John Carter’s effortless falsetto, in particular—are miked with a close, present clarity, giving them an intimacy that contrasts with the grand, echoing hall of the backing track. The lead vocal weaves in and out of the stacked two- and three-part harmonies, often doubling and tripling the melodic lines, giving the sound a dense, collegiate brilliance. It’s a sonic architecture of restraint and pure, unadulterated melodic power. They manage to evoke the clean, close-knit perfection of The Beach Boys’ vocal arrangements but filter it through a distinctly British, slightly more melancholic lens.
The Lyric’s Tiny Tragedy
The narrative embedded in the songwriting is a concise, two-minute-and-seven-second portrait of social alienation and silent heartbreak. The lyrics observe a girl: “There she goes with her nose in the air, funny how love can be; Wonder why she pretends I’m not there, funny how love can be, girl.” It’s the simple tragedy of unacknowledged devotion. The melody is so aggressively cheerful that it almost acts as a protective shield against the sadder sentiment. The instrumentation is designed for uplift, a paradox of arrangement against despair that adds a complex emotional layer to what could otherwise be a throwaway pop song. The vocal delivery is wistful, yet never self-pitying, delivered with a professional polish that suggests the singer is more surprised by love’s capriciousness than wounded by it.
One can easily picture a young man in 1965 hearing this on a transistor radio, clutching his copy of the sheet music while trying to work out the chords on his own instrument. It captures that exact moment when the simple exuberance of early rock ‘n’ roll was giving way to an acknowledgment of emotional complexity, dressing up the pain in layers of sophisticated sound.
“The Ivy League took the raw, high energy of the UK beat scene and gave it a polish so fine it bordered on the glamorous.”
This track is a masterclass in the economy of arrangement, a lesson on how to achieve maximum emotional return with minimal runtime. Every component serves the melody. The track never overstays its welcome, concluding with a rapid-fire coda built on the repeated hook, which fades out almost before the listener is ready to let it go. This brevity ensures a compulsive re-listen. It is the kind of recording that sounds magnificent on dedicated premium audio equipment, allowing the listener to fully appreciate the separation of the vocal lines and the clarity of the rhythm section.
For anyone charting the evolution of British Pop, “Funny How Love Can Be” is an indispensable marker. It’s not just a snapshot of a successful single; it’s a blueprint for the next generation of pop craftsmen who prioritized arrangement and vocal architecture above raw volume. It’s a testament to the skill of three session veterans who knew precisely how to leverage their talents to craft pop gold. The song is a quiet triumph, a beautiful, concise jewel of the mid-sixties UK charts that demands more contemporary recognition.
Listening Recommendations
- The Zombies – “Tell Her No” (1964): Shares a similar minor-key wistfulness and sophisticated organ/piano arrangement.
- The Hollies – “Bus Stop” (1966): Features the same blend of melodic songwriting, clear vocal harmonies, and bright, propulsive rhythm.
- The Association – “Along Comes Mary” (1966): A showcase of complex, multi-layered vocal harmony work built around a solid pop structure.
- The Rockin’ Berries – “He’s in Town” (1964): Another UK group utilizing bright, soaring harmonies to elevate a catchy, uptempo pop song.
- Herman’s Hermits – “Silhouettes” (1965): Possesses the same light, nimble tempo and focus on a clean, simple melody carried by a strong lead voice.