Stephen Colbert has really been on a roll lately, satire of the current misadministration-wise; last night he hosted Michael Bolton singing John Bolton, which is about as hilariously meta as you can get. But the night before he did a riff about the absurdity of the latest crap emanating from supporters of President Malevolent Chauncy Gardiner that made me practically fall off my couch.
The short version (and this is completely true): Said supporters have actually suggested that Trump start a GoFundMe deal to pay for his proposed wall on the Mexican border.
I kid you not. In any case, for the benefit of his viewers who might not know what that meant, he did an extended riff on the GoFundMe page of Flaw, a modestly successful and long running indie metal band from the Mid-West who were trying to raise money to buy a van in order to get to a series of upcoming gigs.
Please behold Colbert's extended riff now and be changed. It starts at about the 6:00 minute point.
As somebody at YouTube commented -- what next, a bake sale?
In any case, the band, of course and with good reason, couldn't believe the free publicity they had just been handed, but were still tickled pink about it beneath their copious tattoos
And the cream of the jest is -- they're actually pretty good. Not my cup of tea, but not as ridiculous as I had assumed while watching Colbert riff on them either.
The short version: In 1965, Tony Janelli -- an old college friend of mine -- saw one of the first ever Velvet Underground gigs, which happened to be at his high school in suburban New Jersey. An experience which blew the minds of the youthful attendees and, in Tony's case, changed his life.
So he and some of his filmmaker friends have now made an animated short celebrating the VU's performance. And as you'll see from the brief trailer below, it's pretty fricking amazing.
I should add that the show's headliners -- The Myddle Class -- featured the future husband of Carole King and the singer of Steely Dan; they also had a minor regional hit that the Blues Project appropriated to better effect as "Wake Me, Shake Me." The other act on the historic bill -- The Forty Fingers -- has, alas, disappeared into the mists of history.
In any case, the film is about to hit the festival circuit; I'll keep you posted on further news about the project as it develops.
So it was Nick Lowe's birthday over the weekend, and I was looking for something appropriate to post from YouTube when I stumbled across this 2004 clip.
I think the appropriate words are Hole. E. Shit.
Seriously, the first time I watched this I had to turn it off half way through because it was so gut-punchingly powerful I couldn't handle it.
I should add that I find it beyond ironic that a guy like Lowe, who made his pop star bones as a sort of cynical wiseguy, wound up writing the most universally beloved and well-known hippie anthem of all time.
I should also add that one of my favorite pop music stories ever involves that song, and this is absolutely true.
As you may recall, a more or less not fabulous cover of said hippie anthem -- by the non-unjustifiably more or less forgotten Curtis Stigers -- was featured on the soundtrack album to the 1992 mega-smash film The Bodyguard. Which sold several gazillion, er, units.
In any case, apparently Lowe was only vaguely aware that said cover was on the album. Until one day in 1993, he went to his mailbox, opened an envelope, and found a royalty check -- made out in his name -- in a seven figure amount.
Which has to be one of the greatest potential heart attack moments of all time.
Meanwhile -- happy birthday, Mr. Lowe. You did good.
From 2014, please enjoy Shakey Graves and Heather Maloney and the most radical re-imagining of a song originally warbled by John Travolta and Olivia Neutron-Bomb (or whatever her name is) you'll ever hear.
Question: Why the hell hasn't that band been a musical guest on SNL? I mean, James Bay or The Migos get the gig, and these kids don't?
On a less contentious note, I should add that I saw the original Broadway version of Grease in preview (Barry Bostwick had the Travolta part, and he was hilarious and brilliant) and you may find this hard to believe, but the show then bore very little resemblance to the film. In fact, it was barely a nostalgia piece; instead, it was a very sharp satire on the difference between American culture as it actually was in the 50s and the representations of it in the television and movies of the period. Of course, once the satanic Robert Stigwood got his hands on the stage play, it was a foregone conclusion that he was gonna stick some crappy and obviously anachronistic disco song over the credits and rewrite the ingenue part to be an Australian exchange student.
[I originally posted this one back in -- gasp! -- 2009, when both the world and this blog were young. But for obvious reasons, or perhaps reasons that shall become obvious, I thought it was newly relevant to our national discourse. I have, of course, rewritten some of it, and swapped out some of the songs, just to prove that I'm not the total slacker that so many of you, with justification, suspect I am. In any case, enjoy. -- S.S.]
Okay, gang -- here's a fun project for us all to contemplate in the wake of this week's nor'easter on the Right Coast:
Most Memorable Post Elvis Song or Record Referencing Atmospheric Phenomena, i.e. Weather, In the Title or Lyrics!!!
Self-explanatory, I think, so no arbitrary rules this time.
Okay, here's my totally top of my head Top Seven:
7. Terry Anderson -- Weather or Not
If truth be told, the entire original version of this Listomania proceeded from the fact that I had wanted to post this song -- to my mind, the absolute best Rolling Stones/Keith Richards-style guitar rocker that the Stones or Keith never did -- for what seemed like ages. (Catchiest goddamn chorus in the world, n'est-ce pas?). In case you're wondering, Anderson comes out of the Georgia Satellites axis (he co-wrote that group's semi-hit "Battleship Chains") and this derives from the early 90s solo album seen above. I should add that said album is still available over at Amazon, and you should hie there toot sweet and snag a copy.
6. The Beatles -- Rain
Depending on my mood, either this or "And Your Bird Can Sing" is my favorite of the bunch of guitar-driven, vaguely metallic pop gems that the Beatles recorded around this time in late 65-early 66. This one has Ringo's most inventive drum performance, of course.
5. The Weasels -- Beautiful Day
A recent track by my old high school garage band. I'm doing most of the guitar stuff, including the solo, but it's written and sung by our multi-instrumentalist secret weapon Glenn Leeds. In any case, I love it. "It may be freezin' but I don't feel cold...it's a beautiful day."
4. Lou Christie -- Rhapsody in the Rain
"In this car, our love went much too far..."
The followup to the equally apt "Lightning Strikes," this one got banned by most 1966 radio stations; I wonder why.
3. Yoko Ono -- Listen the Snow is Falling
"The only reason no one likes her music is because she's a woman and an Oriental" -- John Lennon to Jann Wenner, 1971
2. Steeleye Span -- One Misty Moisty Morning
Probably the oldest song ever featured on a Weekend Listomania, i.e., this probably dates back to Shakespeare's day. BTW; the word goddess is overused in some circles, but I think Maddy Prior's vocal on this qualifies her for consideration as one.
And the number one ill wind that blows nobody good song, it's so ridiculously apt given what's going to be broadcast on 60 Minutes this Sunday that I can't believe we're even having a discussion, obviously is ---
1. Classics IV -- Stormy
Who knew somebody had written a hit tune about her decades ago? Amazing.
From 2004, please enjoy the great Roger McGuinn and his lovely cover of The Beatles/George Harrison classic "If I Needed Someone."
I honestly had never heard this until yesterday, when friend of PowerPop Capt. Al played it on his intertube radio show.
I should add that George was obviously a huge Byrds fan (the riff on this is pretty much a lift from "Bells of Rhymney") and there's a wonderful, if perhaps apocryphal, story about George and Roger that seems relevant.
The short version is that after The Byrds' "Turn Turn Turn" came out, and was not as big a hit in the UK as it was elsewhere, George apparently sent Roger a note that said "I feel sorry for anybody who didn't buy it."
From 1965, please enjoy The Lovin' Spoonful, featuring extremely stylish drummer Joe Butler, doing a cover of The Beatles' "Help" backed by somebody's orchestra.
For you younger readers, this was originally aired on a weekly network TV rock-themed show called Hullabaloo.
And this is how, in the immortal words of David Letterman, your parents and grandparents enjoyed the rock-and-roll music back in the day.
From 2002, and the Conan O'Brien show, please enjoy the astoundingly brilliant Mike Viola -- doing business with his band The Candy Butchers -- and a live version of his transplendently gorgeous "You Belong to Me Now."
I've been a fan of this guy since forever, by which I mean when he sang the title song for Tom Hanks' That Thing You Do, but this song is a total work of genius. And the fact that the sound of this thing is a live power trio blows my tiny mind.
From 2000, please enjoy Belle and Sebastian and their amusingly retro "Legal Man."
I gotta tell you, B&S are a band that I have generally found to be insufferably twee. But I heard this one on Pandora or whatever at my watering hole in the Q-Boro yesterday, and I was shocked to discover that I really liked it.
From 1966, please enjoy The Robbs (of Where the Action Is Fame)...
...and their sprightly regional (mid-west) hit "Bittersweet."
That was written by the same P.F. Sloan-Steve Barri songwriting team that came up with the early great Grassroots hits, and while I'll concede it's not as good as the Hoodoo Gurus song of the same name we discussed yesterday, it's still pretty darn cute.
And a tip of the Hatlo Hat to reader anonymous, without whom I would have been unaware of its existence and my life thus poorer for it.
And speaking as we were on Friday about great songs with one word titles, I'd forgotten how much I liked this 1985 classic by The Hoodoo Gurus.
I bring this up partly because, thanks to one of our regular commenters, I just heard this 1986 (outtake) cover of the song by The Flamin' Groovies.
I should add that I find it characteristically weak-kneed, like most of the Groovies' well-intentioned studio covers. And I say that as somebody who saw them live on the 1979 Jumpin' in the Night tour when they were doing a relatively convincing version of The Byrds' "Lady Friend."
Dunno if you watched Saturday Night Live last weekend, but if you did you couldn't help but notice that the show is working on an uninterrupted two year streak of musical guests (with the noticeable exception of Foo Fighters) who have no redeeming virtues whatsoever.
The most recent miscreant: James Bay.
In the immortal words of Leonard Pinth-Garnell -- "thoroughly bad."
Seriously, it's like watching Laurence Harvey fronting the world's lamest rock band.
I should add that I had never heard (or heard of) Bay before Saturday, so I looked him up and learned that he had recently done a cover of Tom Petty's great "Kings Highway" on the soundtrack to Cars 3. And I figured, well, you couldn't possibly do a bad version of that song, so maybe I should listen to it and cut him some slack.
Well, it turns out that yeah -- you CAN do a bad version of that song.
Jeebus, but that kid sucks. And he isn't even the worst one SNL's had on in memory.
This one originally ran in 2009 (and then got updated in 2015) which for some reason now lost in the mists of time were the high points of my I Hate Smashing Pumpkins period.
But it turns out that this week is the NEW high point of my Smashing Pumpkins hate jones.
So I've rewritten it -- added some songs and changed the blurbs for some others, to avoid seeming like the slacker I obviously am.
And why, you ask?
From The Guardian (click on the graphic to be able to read it):
Alex Jones? Really, Bill?
Yeah, well, fuck you, you fat baldheaded crypto-fascist libertarian piece of shit for brains.
But in the meantime, please enjoy, if at all possible, and without further ado, the Listomania topic for this weekend:
Best or Worst Post-Beatles Song or Record With a One Word or One Number Title!!!
Self-explanatory, I think, but I should add that any one word title comprised of the names of men and women or those of geographical places is disqualified. So, fuck you, CSNY and "Ohio." Blow me, Sue Thompson and "Norman."
Okay, with that out of the way here's my totally top of my head Top Thirteen:
13. Steppenwolf -- 28
From their second album, which by the way is one of the great overlooked masterpieces of its era.
12. Collective Soul -- Gel
A great kick-ass rock song featuring a lead singer who I always found charmingly unhinged. Plus, let's face it, "Let's gel" is possibly the most imaginative sexual euphemism since the young John and Paul wrote "Thinking of Linking."
11. Madonna -- Cherish
Not the crappiest or most reprehensible Madonna single -- that would be most of the others -- but I for one have never forgiven it for sullying the good reputation of the 60s hit of the same name by The Association.
10. Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs -- Stay
I actually prefer the completely over the top cover by the Four Seasons, but everybody is probably sick to death of my carrying on about those guys. In any case, the original is one of the sublime glories of early rock, and at a terse 1:39 an obvious candidate for All Time Best Single Under Two Minutes Long.
9. The Beatles -- Help!
C'mon -- according to George Martin, they learned the title of the movie was going to be Help! on Monday, they wrote the song on Tuesday, and they had figured out the entire arrangement and recorded it by the end of Wednesday. It doesn't get any more brilliant.
8. The Rolling Stones -- Think
The Aftermath song The Stones had previously given to Chris Farlowe, who had the hit. One of the best of the early Jagger-Richards collaborations, I think, and the riffage between the acoustic guitar and the fuzz electric is inspired and haunting.
7. Smashing Pumpkins -- Disarm
A very good song, but for obvious reasons limned above -- fuck them and lead singer Billy Corgan where they breathe.
6. Fleetwood Mac -- Tusk
The original of this is Lindsay Buckingham at his most wacky and wonderful, but I still think this MST3K sort-of version...
...is the best one evah.
5. The Loud Family -- Aerodeliria
My favorite song from perhaps my favorite album of the 90s, and only one of the reasons PABARAT was the only genuinely psychedelic experience legally available in that decade. And if you've ever heard the EP they did right after, you know these bastards could nail the damn thing live.
4. The Moody Blues -- Stop
The follow-up to "Go Now," and in some ways even more sad and beautiful; Denny Laine really is one of the most underrated figures of the British Invasion.
3. Jefferson Airplane -- Today
Great song, great album. Too bad the stereo version sounds like it was recorded in an echoey airplane hangar.
2. Foo Fighters -- Everlong
From an article in MOJO:
November 2007: The Foo Fighters are in Canada, supporting Bob Dylan on the latter's Modern Times tour. [Head Foo and former Nirvana drummer] Dave Grohl is in his dressing room when he gets a message that Mr. Dylan wants to see him.
"So I walk out," says Grohl, "and he's standing like a silhouette in a dark corner -- black leather boots, black leather pants, black leather jacket. He said 'What's that song you got, the one that says "The only thing I ever ask of you is you gotta promise not to stop when I say when"?' I said, oh yeah, 'Everlong.' He said, 'Man, that's a great song, I should learn that song."
Grohl laughs loudly. "So I don't give a fuck what anybody else thinks. Bob Dylan likes one of my songs. That right there is enough for me."
And the all-time coolest one word song, it's so obvious why are we even discussing this, is --
1. Soupy Sales -- Pachalafaka
Pachalafaka, pachalafaka
They whisper it all over Turkey
Pachalafaka, pachalafaka
It sounds so romantic and perky
Oh, I know that phrase
Will make me thrill always
For it reminds me of you, my sweet
Just the mention of
That tender word of love
Gives my heart a jerkish, Turkish beat
I won't say c'est si bon
Or l'amour toujours
For they can't express what I'm feeling
Even mairzydoats or
Other foreign quotes
Don't seem to be quite so appealing
But pachalafaka! pachalafaka!
Takes me back with you to passionate desert scenes
And it's there we'll stay
Till the very day
We find out what pachalafaka means!
I got so excited yesterday that a certain Shady Dame had made a knock-off of Man Ray's celebrated metronome that I completely forgot to write something for PowerPop aujourd'hui.
Regular (and that's a word and a half in this context) posting resumes on the morrow.
So Friday last, when I posted that Marc Jonson song he wrote and performed in tribute to the late Pat DiNizio of The Smithereens, I had one of my increasingly rare moments of self-aware insight.
To wit: That every time I start to get a little big-headed about music by one of my various bands over the years that...well, that frankly I really need to listen (or re-listen) to stuff made by many far more talented friends and acquaintances of mine and -- frankly -- get over myself.
Which leads me, for reasons that will soon become clear, to my chum Marc Platt.
Marc fronted a punkish mid-80s Los Angeles power pop band called The Real Impossibles, and a compilation of their stuff came out on Zero Hour Records a few months after the Zero Hour release of Floor Your Love. Which made us label mates, of course. I had never heard of the band until the CD, but it knocked me out, and we struck up an intertube friendship, with me mostly telling him "I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!"
Here's a representative track...
...that absolutely kills me. I think comparisons to The Plimsouls are not implausible, and for my money the whole CD is great; you can order it at our mutual label's website HERE.
I should also add that Marc is an extremely accomplished music scribe and the author of the fab (obviously) E-book How the Beatles Did It, which you can and should order at the link right here. (Have I mentioned I hate him?).
But enough of the history lesson.
The bottom line is that Marc has a new album about to come out. The concept of which is self-described by its auteur as "One man lo-fi garage band."
Hey -- works for me. As you can hear from this representative track -- a swell re-imagining of The Stones' classic "The Last Time."
And here's a fun video for another of the songs. (Obviously, any excuse to ogle Louise Brooks is alright with me, folks.)
In any case, the album drops, as the kids say, on April 9th on iTunes and everywhere. When it does I'll be back with a proper review of the whole shebang, but in the meantime, I thought you oughta know.
BTW, have I mentioned that there's a Facebook page devoted to the album?. And that the album also features a very cool cover of a Flamin' Groovies classic on it? Well there is, and it does. So there.
From 1973, and the b-side of "Think," please enjoy the Godfather of Soul and his, shall we say, highly personal cover of the Beatles' "Something."
Yes, this was actually released to a largely unbelieving world.
It's never been on an album or CD, however, so I think we can be excused for having overlooked this for all these years. In any case, it's a lot more idiosyncratic than, oh, Al Green's relatively faithful cover of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand."
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