Every decade possesses its share of cult classics, albums unheralded by the general public but held in high regard by those in the know, and now you, too, can join the cultists (but not the scary kind…..cheerful cultists).

Welcome to The Millennium!

We’ve met Curt Boettcher before, back here, in 1964. After his folk group The GoldeBriars broke up, Curt formed a collective of like-minded singers and songwriters in Los Angeles who basically lived in the studio, playing together under the name The Ballroom and also contributing to each other’s solo material. In his spare time, Boettcher somehow found the energy to produce The Association’s debut album in 1966, along with the hits “Along Comes Mary” and “Cherish.” This gave him enough currency around town to score a record deal with Columbia, and he brought his friends along with him, this time under the name The Millennium. He would need all of that currency.

Just as they had for the last couple of years, all seven members contributed to the songwriting, instruments, and particularly the lush vocal harmonies which were Boettcher’s trademark as a producer. His co-producer on the project was one Keith Olsen (you may remember him from posts past — five years after The Millennium, he would introduce Fleetwood Mac to Buckingham Nicks and then produce their first album together, and in 1981 he produced Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl”). Due to the excessive number of studio hours and the complexity involved with the brand-new 16-track technology, by the time the group wrapped up their debut, it was the most expensive album ever recorded up to that date. Expectations, as you might expect, ran high.

Released in the summer of 1968, Begin was hailed by critics but failed by the public. Unfortunately, none of the singles released by Columbia caught on with radio stations or record buyers, despite the fact that The Millennium sounded like The Beatles, The Beach Boys, The Association, and Nilsson all rolled up into one group. The music they made was later dubbed “sunshine pop.” Alas for Curt and Co., they made pop music for adults in a genre that usually catered to the young with songs about sunshine, rainbows, and balloons — caught in the middle, The Millennium proved too mature for the teenyboppers and too soft for the hip.

Later generations judged the music on its merits. Pop wasn’t a dirty word to the cultists — they opened their ears and basked in the sunshine … and it was good.