Friday, October 24, 2014

The Greatest Thing Ever

From 1975. Bon Scott and AC/DC.

I am not kidding about this. Seriously. This is the greatest thing in the history of recorded human things.

[h/t Samael]

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Your Thursday Moment of Holy Fucking Shit

Forty years after we couldn't get arrested -- let alone get a record deal -- the fabulous Floor Models (featuring a bass player whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels)... played on the radio. Last Sunday, in fact.

Courtesy of living saint/deejay Jim Monaghan. Formerly of the late lamented WNEW-FM, and now the morning guy on The Rock of New Jersey...

...which streams in real time HERE, BTW.

Jim played our live cover of The Records/Searchers classic "Hearts in Her Eyes," in between The Jags' "Back of My Hand" and "Another Nail For My Heart" by Squeeze.

Words fail me. But if you're of a mind, go over to the website of ZERO HOUR RECORDS, Australia's leading music-delivery system, and order a copy of the album. Now!

Oh, and here's the track in question.

You're welcome.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Sisyphus in Hackensack, New Jersey

Had a lot of fun on my birthday...

...and I'm paying for it this morning.

Regular posting resumes tomorrow, cross my barely functional heart.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014


Taking the day off as a result, bitches!!!

Then I'm taking myself out to dinner tonight -- at the piss elegant Italian restaurant up the street -- and crashing after pitchers and pitchers of adult beverages.

Shit, I'm gonna be really old today -- you think I'm PLEASED about this?

Anyway, regular non-insane posting resumes tomorrow.

If I fucking feel like it.

Monday, October 20, 2014

A Staggering Work of Heartbreaking Genius

[This comment, by reader Penny Podium, appeared, mysteriously, over the weekend on my Friday Paul Revere and the Raiders thread; I reprint it here, verbatim, in case you missed it. And for obvious reasons, if you know what I mean. -- S.S.]

I agree, Steve. Paul Revere and the band are the absolute best. Paul Simon said that every generation throws a hero up the pop charts. Why not throw up on the 1960s?

Back in 1978 I was tooling around in Malibu with Sean Tyla, who at the time was seeing a sorority sister of mine, Royelle, a sharpie I called Roy, for Roy Rogers, because she was always hot on the Trigger, when Sean introduced me to Deke Leonard, then on one of his Iceberg tours. Deke, whose real name is Roger, and whose friends called him Lil, but everyone knew him as Nanu Nanu, because of his fondness for Pam Dawber, showed me a test pressing copy of the Paul Revere’s Country Wine album, signed by Paul and Mark and the rest of the band, which I offered to buy from Deke for 6 ounces of high-quality Hawaiian dooba-dooba. While we were negotiating we wandered over to the Sandcastle, a bar run by Randy California’s uncle, Randy Wolfe, where we proceeded to drink ourselves under the table, and where Deke confessed to me his undying love (Oh, Deke, you rascal!), and that his former band, Man, consisted of hash eating interstellar travelers from the Ford Galaxy.

I left Deke under the table, which was a fabulous laminated teak number with mother-of-pearl inserts that matched the earrings worn by an old roommate of mine, Debbie, who you Steve may know from a number of big budget action based soft porn musicals from the 70s (you may recall Debbie Does Gershwin), and who acted under the name Dubbie, which she pronounced Debbie, but others thought was spoken as Dubby. Debbie and I had a routine where we would go to any one of a number of Malibu bars, including my favorite among them, The Hangout, where I would often find Darryl Hickman, Dwayne’s brother, and where I would refer to Debbie as Dubbie, and she would then purse her lips, cross her arms beneath her breasts, put one leg up over her head in an Durvasanana yoga pose, and then angrily correct my pronunciation of her name ….. while I walked around whichever bar we were in and picked the pockets of male patrons while Debbie, who possessed the best legs this side of the Colorado, held the attention of everyone in the bar, as well as her pose, for however long it took to pick up a few hundred bucks of partying cash.

Oh ….. such sweet times! We were soooooooo hungry for those good times!

Brian Wilson, you’re my real God! And God Only Knows Why!

-- Penny Podium

Attending the Coppertone Regatta in Santa Barbara, named after the early Eastern Orthodox martyr, Barbara, who lived in third century Nicomedia. Known lovingly as the patron saint of sailing, she was one sexy martyr, and my type of gal.

Just Like Me by Paul Revere and the Raiders

Just Like Me by Paramour

Just Like Me by Jamie Foxx

A Girl Like Me by Rihanna

God Gave Rock and Roll To Me by Kiss

Old Man River Me by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein

Old Man by Neil Young and Oscar Hammerstein

Where Is My Man by Eartha Kitt

Any Man Can Be A Fool by Rare Eartha Kitt

10/18/2014 3:13 PM

I should add that the charmingly yclept Ms. Podium's name-checking of C-list rock star shlubs Sean Tyla...

...and Deke Leonard...

...just may be the cream of the jest.

Friday, October 17, 2014

"The Second Best Thing in the World"

And speaking, as we were last week, of Paul Revere and the Raiders, here's today's essay question:

1. Listen to these two Raiders tracks -- the first (the venerable "Money") recorded live, and the second their (self-penned) finest hour in the studio (in an amazing stereo remix).

Some people do not agree with the proposition that the Raiders, at their peak, were one of the absolute best American rock bands of the 1960s. Are those people large idiots, or what?


Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Closed for Monkey Business

Don't ask.

Regular posting -- including two absolutely sizzling mp3s -- resumes tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Men at Work

Up until very late last night at the cramped attic studio of my high school garage band chums The Weasels.

I have actually finished my very first sort-of solo track after nearly a half century of recording defiantly low-fi stuff with those guys.

I'll share it with you when its mixed, but in the mean time I'm taking today off.

Regular posting resumes on Wednesday.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Your Monday Moment of Words Fail Me

The Boss covers Dobie Gray's classic "Drift Away," live, in 2013.

It's not really in his vocal comfort zone in spots, but mostly this is spine-tinglingly great nonetheless. If you don't get choked up when the full band comes in at the end, seek immediate medical attention.


Friday, October 10, 2014

Holy Crap -- It's Another Totally Brand New Weekend Listomania: Special Would You Let Your Record Collection Marry a Rolling Stone? Edition

Okay, after last weeks Worst of the Beatles Listomania I'm sure you didn't see this coming, but in the interests of fairness here we go:

All-Time Worst Rolling Stones Track of All Time!!!

For purposes of our discussion, I'm restricting the nominees to the period between England's Newest Hitmakers (1964) and Tattoo You (1981). This is strictly arbitrary, I'll grant you, and I know some people have argued, plausibly, for some of the Stones' less celebrated 80s albums. But since I am not one of them, I'm gonna have to put my foot down about this.

Okay, that established -- here's my totally Top of My Head number one worst.

It's a tie!!! Between...

1. Dancing With Mr. D


1. Ain't Too Proud to Beg

"Dancing With Mr. D" actually has a great riff and a great groove, but as the late great Lester Bangs famously said of it, the lyrics are about exactly what you fervently hoped they weren't about. "Ain't Too Proud to Beg," however, is one of the Stones very few unconvincing soul or r&b covers -- stiff, by the numbers, and groove-less, especially compared to The Temptations' classic original.

Alrighty, then -- what would YOUR choices be?