All I Really Want to Do

Fresh off "I Got You Babe" with Sonny, Cher plunged headfirst into folk-pop in 1965 with her debut solo album, All I Really Want to Do, and the results are as kooky as they are captivating.

Cher's voice on this record is an acquired taste, and that's the whole point. It's not angelic, not polished, and she sure as heck isn't trying to be the next Jackie DeShannon. It's a contralto with grit, belting folk songs that weren't written to be belted, and the friction is the thrill. She tackles Bob Dylan's "All I Really Want to Do" with such gusto that the Byrds (whose version debuted the same week) had their label quietly pull promotion off the single in favor of the B-side, "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better," after Cher's took the chart lead. Hers hit #15, theirs stalled at #40. A nineteen-year-old's debut single outran the band that defined the folk-rock scene of summer 1965.

Sonny Bono's production is a Phil Spector fever dream: lush, layered, loud, and gloriously over the top. Tracks like "Needles and Pins" and "Dream Baby" sound dipped in glitter and rolled in sunshine. He's taking an already-proven smash and a novelty single from last December by some LA one-hit-wonder(-ish)—what was her name again? Cherilyn?—and gilding them until they shimmer like nothing else on the radio in 1965. Both, naturally, from his own songbook.

All I Really Want to Do is rough around the edges, and that's exactly the charm. It's fiery, unaffected, bold; a declaration of youthful earnestness and nerve. Releasing it on the heels of "I Got You Babe" was shrewd timing; Cher rode that wave but stayed in her own lane. This album is the very moment when Cher quietly begins dropping the "Sonny &" prefix, long before the divorce, the Cher show, the sparkles, the nude gowns, and that nine-day marriage. And she really did do all she really wanted to do.