Jerry Lewis 1926 - 2017

On top of everything else, Monsieur Lewis deserves to go down in history as one of the great avant-garde noise-rock guitar heroes of all time.

You know -- as in Mars, DNA, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks...bands like that.



And speaking of DNA, as you will doubtless notice, Jerry's guitar solos in the clip above sound pretty much exactly like Arto Lindsay. He kind of looks like him, too.

Obviously, if Jerry had been hanging out on the Bowery circa 1984, it wouldn't just have been the French hailing him as a genius.

POSTSCRIPT: So I was at our local watering hole in the Q-Boro yesterday when the news came of Lewis's death.

I mentioned it to the very nice millennial bar lady and she said "I don't know who that is."

ME: The other half of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, the most famous comedy team of the 50s.

HER: I've heard of Dean Martin. Jerry Lewis, no.

ME: (thinking) Ah -- ever see that Eddie Murphy movie THE NUTTY PROFESSOR?

HER: Oh, yeah -- love that.

ME: It's a remake of a Jerry Lewis movie.

HER: Oh. Okay.

Kill me now, is the point I'm trying to make.

You Can Take the Jew Out of New York...

...but you can't take the New York out of the Jew.

So, of course, BG and I had to travel 4000 miles to see a Roz Chast exhibition at San Francisco's Contemporary Jewish Museum this morning.

More dispatches from our Excellent Cross Country Adventure starting Monday, after our return to the East tomorrow.

In the meantime -- have a great weekend, everybody!!!

It's Steve and BGs Musical Itinerary -- Part V

We've arrived...and to prove it, we're here!



Yes, via California Zephyr...

...we're now in San Francisco...

...just in time for the 50th anniversary of the fabled Summer of Love.



Hey, I vas dere, Charlie. Albeit for only a couple of days. And that's a band I was in a few years later doing the Jefferson Airplane-ish ode to the City by the Bay (hey -- it was recorded under extremely primitive conditions and we were kids, so don't hold it against us).

Photos of our adventures begin posting tomorrow.

It's Steve and BGs Musical Itinerary -- Part IV

Still zipping our way to the coast on the California Zephyr.

Next stop -- Reno, Nevada! The city...

...where Johnny Cash shot a man just to watch him die.



Guess where we'll be tomorrow!

It's Steve and BGs Musical Itinerary -- Part III

Chicago was great, but now we're zipping along on the California Zephyr...

...to our next destinations on our way to the coast.

First to the Mile High City...

...and then to the spiritual home of Mittens Romney (who, I might add is looking considerably better in retrospect (when compared with the current occupant of the White House) if you know what I mean.

Guess where we'll be tomorrow! Damn, this is fun.

It's Steve and BGs Musical Itinerary -- Part II

Off to the coast on the California Zephyr.

And our first stop after departing the Windy City is...

Damn, this is fun.

It's Steve and BGs Musical Itinerary -- Part I

So a certain Shady Dame and I are spending the next week on a cross-country odyssey.

Our first jaunt is a flight to the mid-West and a certain Windy City.



And after that, we're taking the California Zephyr train to the coast. Think Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint in North by Northwest, except without the police and the Communist spies.

We'll be checking in with musical tributes to all our stops for the next several days.

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Your Thursday Moment of Words Fail Me

From their 2004 reunion show(s), please enjoy power pop gods The Raspberries and a live version of -- IMHO -- their absolute greatest song "Tonight."



From their just released double live album Pop Art...

...which I can't recommend highly enough.

BTW, a certain Shady Dame and I had our first date at a Raspberries show three years later at the Highline in Manhattan.



Gee, I wonder why I fell in love with her.

Closed for (Hi-Fi) Monkey Business

Had a long and late night in the studio working on the Last Great Floor Models track yesterday.

Regular posting resumes on the morrow.

Annals of Classic Rock

From the current issue of the New Yorker.

Heh. Also hah.