Behind the Song: “Incense and Peppermints” | Strawberry Alarm Clock

Clashing vibrant patterns and six spaced-out faces make up Strawberry Alarm Clock’s 1967 debut album cover. Within just over thirty minutes, and over the course of ten songs, the California natives blur the lines between acid rock, psychedelia, and luminous sunshine pop. It was an album that would put them on the charts and catapult them out of their local indie status into worldwide recognition. The record’s most famous song would prove to be its eponymous single, “Incense and Peppermints,” charting at number one for sixteen consecutive weeks. On the surface, their defining song boasted the mesmerizing use of instrumentation, such as piercing keyboards and a hypnotic cowbell, while possessing infectious lyricism — the kind of hooks that stick in your mind like molted peppermint candies on a hot summer sidewalk. Beneath the mind-bending psychedelic front, however, was a much more complex story of bringing the iconic radio hit to life.

To understand the intricacies that went into the song’s composition, one must first have a sturdy grasp of the band’s origins. Having formed in 1967, Strawberry Alarm Clock was a merging of two bands that united the numerous members of Thee Sixpence and Waterfryd Traene together. As for the inspiration behind their stand-out name, George Bunnell, the group’s bassist, explains how it manifested into being: “Our record company kind of picked our name for us. They wanted to use ‘strawberry,’ because I guess it was just a sign of the times. Peace, love and strawberries! So, that was already picked out. And we were over at [keyboardist] Mark Weitz’s house one day, and his alarm clock suddenly fell down and broke. And we looked at that, and decided ‘alarm clock.’ So, we called up our record company, and told them we were going to use the name the Strawberry Alarm Clock.”

Drawing from their amalgamation of influences, from Ravi Shankar to Chopin, the Alarm Clock would harness their skills in the studio during the process of making of their first album as a cohesive group. “We all had learned to play our instruments individually,” Bunnell states. “Mark was classically trained on Piano. Steve [Bartek] was also. I was taking jazz bass lessons. Randy [Seol] had extensive jazz training on drums and vibes as well as a vocal coach. Lee [Freeman] was a street blues player on guitar and harmonica. Ed [King] had originally been a bass player. His training was in soul, jazz and rhythm and blues. We all had other influences that crept in as well. Lee started playing sitar. Ed started playing slide guitar. Mark started playing harpsichord. So when we threw it all together it was Strawberry Alarm Clock.” It’s in their debut offering that you can hear each of the members’ artistry seep through. For instance, on “Lose to Live,” the elaborate drum solo exudes a sense of frenzied urgency that is reminiscent of Keith Moon, while the guitar and keyboards play a Stones-esque riff that mirrors “Satisfaction.”

In much of the same way as The Beatles, the Alarm Clock would follow a similar structuring of songs where a single track would contain multiple breakdowns. “Lose to Live” is one of those examples, where several musical changes occur and essentially make the one song feel more like three. In part one of the song, listeners hear a funky intro that breezily leads into self-aware lyrics. Then, the song takes a sharp turn into frantically shouted words over a harpsichord before seamlessly transitioning into a carnival-like tune that returns to something that better resembles a pop sound. Of course, the sonic cycle repeats itself and somehow manages to do so within three minutes. It’s this sense of an ornate musical journey that is also carried over on “Incense and Peppermints,” and it’s precisely what has made it stand the test of time.

Originally written as Thee Sixpence, “Incense and Peppermints” was an instrumental piece, arranged by keyboardist Mark Weitz and the bridge by guitarist Ed King. While still signed to the All-Amerian label, producer Frank Slay sent the recording to songwriter John Carter and thus songwriting credits went to Carter, as well as his composition partner Tim Gilbert. As a result of the Alarm Clock’s refusal to record the vocals, Carter designated Greg Munford to provide vocals — the 16-year-old singer for Shapes of Sounds. Weitz explains, “if it wasn't for Greg Munford's lead vocal track, the song never would've made it. His voice fit the part perfectly. We all tried to sing the lead, but none of us sounded right on the playback.” Nobody in the band was particularly concerned with the fact that Munford wasn’t a part of the band, mostly because the track was planned to be released as a B-side to “The Birdman of Alkatrash” on All-American. However, when the group signed to UNI Records, the Munford-sung track was re-released in May of 1967 and the rest became history. “The song swept across the airwaves gradually, fueling a sales wave that built into a number one chart placement over the next three months, in November of 1967,” Bruce Eder writes. “By that time, the group had been prevailed upon to record an album around the single, even though Munford, who'd sung on the hit, wasn't in the group.”

The lyrical content of the song are witty and poke fun at the “meaningless nouns.” Seemingly lighthearted, the song’s dark undertones also give it an appeal. The Alarm Clock’s unofficial tribute site reads, “While the verses chug along amiably enough, there are several moments during the not-three-minute song where the edges curl up in a spooky minor key, sometimes mingling with a distracted, buzzy lead guitar tone. The air of sensual decay is palpable, and comes across as very organic and real. What makes the track a classic is the fact that it retains a sense of newness and wonder, and the fact that it happened to catch the culture at just the right time and seemed to say the right things.”

When the band got around to making their first album, their hit was still at the top of the charts and their label sought to capitalize on the band’s burgeoning popularity. “UNI Records gave us $2,500.00 and two weeks to complete the album,” Bunnell reflects. “The single, ‘Incense And Peppermints’ was already recorded. In spite of the tight recording window we did manage to experiment in the studio somewhat. We were allowed to come up with creative ideas. Albeit, the producer would say okay that’s enough boys, let’s move on. Time is money!” Despite the little time they had to put together their debut LP and the addition of new members, Incense and Peppermints manages to showcase the band’s greatest strong suits and a sense of cohesiveness. It was an offering that ultimately expanded upon their buoyant radio hit and introduce listeners to their ambitious experimentation. “I think we all would’ve liked to go back and change a couple of things but the overall sound was pretty cool,” Bunnell says of the album. “Most bands at the time didn’t get the kind of sonic beauty we had bestowed upon us.” Incense and Peppermints would reach the eleventh spot on the charts and remained the only album in their discography to ever chart.

Photographer Ed Caraeff captured the album’s iconic cover taken of the band in Sat Purush — a Westwood shop that sold traditional East Indian clothing. With a sitar in tow, Strawberry Alarm Clock sat wearing kurtas with Nehru collars, drawstring pants, no shoes and were surrounded by a plethora of psychedelic-patterned decor. “They put us all over these pillows,” recalls Bunnell, “and they had these rattan chairs, fans... all this weird stuff that we sat amongst. They took our picture in the store, and that was the album cover.”

Despite the fact that Munford, the singer of “Incense and Peppermints,” did not join them for any live performances, Strawberry Alarm Clock played to crowds of thousands of hysterically screaming fans, all of who most likely overlooked this inconsistency due to Lee Freeman’s similar vocal performance of the song (it’s also important to note that Randy Seol was always portrayed as the song’s lead vocalist on televised performances due to his heartthrob status). Before they experienced success with their smash hit, the group had already earned a reputation for opening for some of the biggest names in music at the time. During the Summer of Love, they joined the same bill as the Jimi Hendrix Experience, the Yardbirds, and for the famous Herman's Hermits + Who concert in which the group was carried through the audience while sitting on Persian rugs. For the latter half of the year and spilling into 1968, Strawberry Alarm Clock embarked on extensive tours that saw them opening for the Beach Boys and touring with Buffalo Springfield. To Bunnell, those were some of the moments when he realized that the band had truly made it. “It was the biggest thing we ever did,” he says. “We were flying in Lear jets and riding in limos, doing TV shows, staying in suites. It was unbelievable!”

By the year 1968, the group had chalked up a plethora of national television appearances, including Dick Clark’s American Bandstand. When Clark began work producing the psychedelic film Psych-Out, the Strawberry Alarm Clock were given the opportunity to contribute to its soundtrack. Thus, “The Pretty Song From Psych-Out,” was created. Although the version of the song that appears on the film’s soundtrack was recorded by the local San Fernando Vally band The Storybook, what viewers hear in the film is the Alarm Clock’s version. The film follows Jack Nicholson’s protagonist character through San Francisco’s hippie scene that captures the tenor of the times, which Clark summarizes as being one large anti-drug message. Along with “Incense and Peppermints” being featured in the film, the Strawberry Alarm Clock also appear as themselves playing “Rainy Day Mushroom Pillow” in an ultra-psychedelic club scene.

Roughly one week after “Incense and Peppermints” lived at the number one spot on the charts, it was soon bumped down to number three by the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer” as well as the Cowsills “The Rain, the Park & Other Things.” That all-too-brief frenzy of fame that the Strawberry Alarm Clock had been experiencing was beginning to wan. Despite their efforts to follow up with their experimental sophomore album, Wake Up… It’s Tomorrow, the group never reached the same status as they once possessed. By this time, the Strawberry Alarm Clock were now a five-man band and were taking a different approach to their music, moving away from the psychedelia and into an easy-listening sound of sorts. This album, along with their next, The World in a Sea Shell, gained some headline traction, but never as much as their most recognizable track.

One thing is for certain, though: Strawberry Alarm Clock are not one-hit wonders. Their song “Incense and Peppermints,” might define their legacy, but it does not fully capture the essence of their ambition to stray from convention. The Alarm Clock worked diligently to establish their unique artistry in the work that came after their mainstream radio hit, showing off the group’s impressive ability to craft worlds that are both a reflection of the times as well as a fantastical journey through immersive instrumentals. Put simply — if it was “Incense and Peppermints,” that originally captivated you, turn on and tune in to their entire discography for a sonic trip that will bend your mind in the best way possible.