From 1969 (and previously unheard by moi before last weekend) please enjoy Euro-pop obscurities Wallace Collection and their sublimely symphonic Mamas-and-Papas-ish Daydream.
Not to be confused with the Lovin' Spoonful song of the same name.
Heh.
In any case, like I said, I had never heard that until last Saturday. And why it wasn't as big a hit in the USA as it was elsewhere is beyond me. (BTW: You'll note that the melody is stolen, bigly, from Tchaikovksy and Swan Lake. Hey -- that was the kind of thing they were doing back then.)
I should add that, apparently. said record's been covered successfully on a few occasions since. In fact, the way I first encountered it was at my local Forest Hills watering hole -- the Keuka Kafe -- in an early 21st century sampled version by one of those crappy electronic acts the kids like, aka I Monster.
Which I won't link to, because I consider you all friends. 😎
Anyway, the 1969 version is still a great pop confection by any standard you care to mention, even if the group originally behind it was from Belgium.
American teenagers quickly became obsessed with rock and roll, much to their parents’ alarm. But even if Mum and Dad forbade them from listening to “the Devil’s music” on the family radiogram, they quickly found ways of circumventing the ban.
In the 1950s, RentaRadio in New York rented radios to teenagers for just 35 cents an hour. You had to rent it for a minimum of three hours – more than enough time to catch Alan Freed’s late night radio show Rock ‘n’ Roll Party on WINS.
Hey, I had a transistor that I kept under my pillow for late night listening on school nights.
But I had never heard about that rental thing. Which I think is absolutely fabulous, and just so New Yawk.
And speaking of whom, here he is in a truly lovely performance (on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1971) of Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind."
I must confess that I had been totally unaware of that clip before last Saturday, and seriously -- call me a sentimental old fluff if you will, but if you don't find that as surprisingly touching as I do, you really need to check your meds.
Our Gen Z readers (heh) may be unaware that Jack was the son of a very popular 30's crooner/sex symbol named Allan Jones, who is remembered today mostly for his romantic lead performances in the Marx Brothers' classics A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races. As for the younger Jones, he was pretty much my favorite Beatles-era pop singer who wasn't a rock-and-roller. He was a fixture on tv variety shows for ages, and back in the day he actually (deservedly) had at least one good hit record -- a version of the Burt Bachrach classic "Wives and Lovers," which garnered him a Grammy in 1964.
Later, of course, he sang the theme from The Love Boat, but don't worry -- I won't inflict THAT on you.
In any event, I always thought he was a very cool guy and a terrific singer, and I'm gonna use his passing as an excuse to recount one of my all time favorite show-biz stories.
So anyway, Jack was on the Sullivan show one Sunday, and during the early afternoon rehearsal (sans audience), after Jack sang his number, Ed called him over (as was his wont with performers when they were done) and ad libbed "So -- is Allan Jones still your father?"
A big laugh from the tech crew ensued (Ed was, shall we say, not known for his sense of humor) and the show's producer said "Ed -- that's hilarious. Make sure you do that when we're on air."
Jack and Ed concurred.
Cut to the actual live broadcast, in front of a genuine theater crowd, later that night.
Jack finishes his number, and Ed calls him over and the following exchange transpires.
Ed: "Hey Jack, c'mon over. That was great."
Jack: "Thank you, Ed."
Ed: [taking a beat] "So -- is your father still alive?"
I am not making that up. Man, what I wouldn't give to find a version of that on YouTube. 😎
And may I say again -- this death shit is really starting to piss me off.
From 1965, and their totally brilliant third American LP Animal Tracks, please enjoy the aforementioned The Animals and their hilarious and totally rocking proto-rap "The Story of Bo Diddley."
Which leads us to business. To wit:
...and your favorite obscure British Invasion album track by a solo artist or group that either had hits in America or didn't is...???
I should add that the above Animals selection, which I have always found aboslutely delightful -- particularly when lead singer Eric Burdon talks about Diddley's "GORGEOUS sister" The Duchess -- was once a topic of some disagreement from my old friend Eric C. Boardman.
[That's him in the pith helmet, stage right.]
Eric once borrowed said Animals record from me when we were living across the hall from each other at a dorm in Lake Forest College in the fall of 1965.
And he returned it to me with the ball-point-pen-written phrase "completely sucks" appended after the title of said song on the back of the album sleeve.
And yes -- we're still talking to each other after all those years, BTW.
Okay -- in any event...what would YOUR choices be?
Still vacationing in Italy, and having an absolutely favoloso time.
So how come I'm posting, of all things, Queen's shall we say overfamiliar "Bohemian Rhapsody"...
...as if it's somehow relevant?
Because it actually is.
See, we were in Florence the other day, at the church of Santa Maria Novella, and we viewed this imposing pulpit...
...which is the actual one that guy-in-the-song Galileo was denounced from for having the temerity to declare, correctly, that the earth revolved around the sun.
How cool is that?
BTW, if you're ever in Florence, make sure you check out the aforementioned church, which dates from the 15th century, as it's like the weirdest damn thing you'll ever see.
Seriously -- it's like this spooky multimedia Jesus Land theme park or something. I'm not kidding about this.
So as we were wandering around Florence (after seeing Botticelli's Birth of Venus at the Uffizi) Saturday, and what to our wondering eyes should suddenly appear but an actual, fabulous record store, run by obviously kindred spirits.
I'll have more to say about the place -- which is called Contempo Records and has been doing this kinda bizness since 1977(!) -- on a later occasion, but let's just say that they treated two idiot Americans like royalty, and I can't tell you what a kick it was to hear the Floor Models blasting over a Florentine sound system.
Oh, and BTW, it's my birthday today, so if you wanna say something nice, I wouldn't mind.
Greetings from sunny Florence, Italy, where as you know a certain Shady Dame and I are enjoying a much needed vacation.
And so without further ado -- hey, we've got sights to see -- this leads us to the weekend's business.
To wit:
...and your favorite post-Elvis rock/pop/soul/folk song either referencing a country other than the USA or with lyrics wholly or partly in a language other than English is...???
And in case you're wondering, my nominee -- for obvious reasons -- is this glorious ditty by Oates. (Okay, technically Hall &, but apparently they're not speaking anymore).
Whatever John and Darryl's problems, power pop doesnt come any more insinuating, in my humble opinion. Or should I say "a mio modesto parere"?
In any case -- what would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!! Dispatches from the land that brought us Verdi and Frankie Valli resume on Monday, or as unexpected events dictate!
No, today's title does not refer to the charming actress who played the mom on TVs The Brady Bunch.
Instead, it's my way of letting you guys know that a certain Shady Dame of my acquaintance and I will be vacationing in Italy -- starting today, and for the next eight days.
Excuse: Much needed vacation.
We'll be digging the scene in Roma, Firenze and Bologna till then, but have no fear -- I've written some music related stuff for later in the week, and I'll be checking in with highlights of our escapades on a regular daily basis until il nostro ritorno.
And in case you were wondering -- yes, we're searching out possible places to repatriate to if the worst happens in the States on November 5.
Anyway -- as I'm fond of saying, it could be a hot one, and wish us well!!!
Or better still -- not with a bang, but a whimper.
In any case, The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review has published its last on-the-newstand issue after more than six decades.
As you can imagine, this is a very weird moment for me.
I wrote uninterrupted -- I mean like in every issue -- for TMFKAS from late 1972 till 1998 (and off and on for another ten years or so), which is a pretty amazing run. With the exception of Robert Christgau at The Village Voice, I don't think there's anybody else in the rock crit biz who's pulled off a trick like that.
And some of MY stuff was actually good. (Heh.)
On the other hand, as today's youngsters are doubtless asking --
Question for you: Sleeve Nimels walks into a cash-only record store and sees these four LPs in a bin. With only enough money to buy one, which LP, providing he doesn't already own a copy, ends up going home with him?
1) Warren Zevon's Excitable Boy; (2) The Rascals' Groovin' (the original 1967 version); (3) The Cars debut LP; (4) or The PretendersLearning To Crawl.
I listed these in the order I think you might grab them, but just guessing so please give me your version.
Thank You!
PS: Choose carefully...there's a lot riding on your #1 choice! 😎
Well, and speaking as a born-again vinyl guy -- as a result, as faithful readers are aware, of having been gifted a turntable (my first in decades) for my last birthday -- the above, shall we say, quite intrigued me.
Not to keep you in suspense -- and I suspect said faithful readers will be able to guess -- my top choice would be the Zevon album.
And primarily for this little power pop ditty, which is pretty much my definition of sublime (although I deeply love just about every other song on the record).
BTW, this is not to disparage the other three of Phil's nominees, all of which are killer (and which I would probably choose in the same order. Although I might move the Cars up to number two.)
It's just that I was a total Zevon fan after his splendid debut LP (it doesn't get more astoundingly gorgeous than "Desperadoes Under the Eaves"), but when EB came out, I was particularly delighted that it had as much to do with the then current punk and New Wave stuff happening as it did with the somewhat critically out of fashion LA/Topanga Canyon/Jackson Browne-ish singer/songwriter scene Zevon was primarily identified with.
Anyway, enough of my yakking,
And now to business. To wit:
...and the contemporary or classic album you would most love to have a first-rate vinyl copy of in your personal collection (but don't already own) is...?
Discuss. And I'll let you know what Phil has to say further after today's post.
Heard this for the first time ever at my local watering hole yesterday.
Edel Juárez and "Mientras Dure."
I can find absolutely no info about El Artista and the song itself other than that a) he's from Mexico City, b) he's not young, and c) the record seems to date from the current century.
Oh yeah...And the title translates as "While It Lasts."
That said -- what a great groove (oh that drum sound! oh that organ!). And the whole thing could pass for a really cool early 70s Brit blues-influenced band track with production by Jimmy Miller.
Which is close to as high praise as I can give, frankly. (BG says nah -- more like Tom Petty. In any event, terrific, no?)
Coming tomorrow -- a pop quiz involving a friend of the blog and some vinyl found at a record store.
Okay, this is the greatest thing in the history of things.
Seriously -- I was totally unfamiliar with the online magazine in question until cover artist Sam Viviano posted the above on Facebook the other day. (Click on the pic to enlarge -- trust me, you'll be grateful).
HITS covers the recording industry in an impudent, sassy manner; its editors like to think of it as the MAD Magazine of the music biz. Since 1986, it has published 38 anniversary issues. I have illustrated the covers for 24 of these, beginning with the fourth one in 1990, making HITS the longest professional relationship of my career, with the exception of MAD itself.
My covers have included presidents, foreign leaders, convicted murderers, pop stars, a bunch of record industry CEOs and, quite often, Alfred E. Neuman (with the permission of MAD’s legal department, of course). This year’s cover nearly killed me. It featured Taylor Swift.
The editors, Todd Hensley and Simon Glickman, loved my comp — everything but my rendition of Taylor. I assured them that this was just a sketch and I would nail it in the finish. I actually thought I did a pretty good job on Taylor in the finish, but the editors didn’t quite agree. So I tried again. Then again. And yet again. No matter how hard I tried — and I did over 30 sketches of her — my clients weren’t happy. I finally decided to do something I had never done before: give up. I wrote to Todd and Simon that I was unable to capture Taylor Swift in a way that would satisfy them. I suggested they find another artist, because I couldn’t do it.
Then I got a call from Todd Hensley. He told me they had full confidence and were not going to give up on me. He also made a suggestion. I had been trying to depict Taylor reacting in horror or disgust or shock at the image of Alfred on her “Reputation” album; Todd said maybe I should instead try that expression of complete and utter surprise that Taylor makes every single time she wins an award.
BINGO! I quickly came up with the drawing I posted last week, patched it onto the illustration and sent it off for Todd and Simon’s approval. To my great relief, they gave it — wholeheartedly and enthusiastically.
The moral? One is never too old or experienced or “professional” to get a pep talk, because this one really did the trick for me. I want to thank HITS for their confidence and patience, and I look forward to having the chance to do it again next year. Even if it kills me.
Hey -- let's just say I'm gonna keep on eye on these guys, starting immediately, over at their website HERE.
And speaking as we were over the weekend about people in the rock-and-roll field who might qualify as major dicks, attentive reader M_Sharp alerted me to the existence and relevancy of this Ben Vaughn song and video, which had been previously unknown to me, and which advocates, in religious terms, that offing Mike Love could be a good idea.
Okay, I've gotta admit, yes, I've expressed similar sentiments on some occasions, and yes I laughed -- heartily and out loud -- while listening to the above. And I generally like Vaughn.
That said, when it was over, I felt kind of guilty for enjoying it. I mean, it actually struck me as a little too mean-spirited/wise-guy for words.
So there was a very droll little profile in last week's New Yorker on Ken Caillat, the great recording engineeer/producer who did four Fleetwood Mac albums including Rumours.
In any case, it turns out that the current award-winning/smash Broadway hit musical Stereophonic is, shall we say, liberally plaigarized from Caillat's autobiography of a few years ago. And that there may be some lawsuits in the future as a result.
But my favorite bit is this:
Caillat said that he had watched the play in a daze. “I feel like kind of a numbnuts,” he said. “But, yeah, now I feel ripped off!” He did note a few discrepancies between his book and the play: “Lindsey [Buckingham]’s a dick, but he’s not that big of a dick.”
Heh.
Which, of course, leads us to the weekend's discussion. To wit:
...and the biggest all-time dick in what we refer to as the rock-and-roll field -- of any gender -- indisputably was/is...???
Oh -- and in case you were wondering about my nominee, it should come as no surprise to long-time readers that it's the guy singing lead on the verses here.
I mean, not for nothing is he inevitably referred to in these precincts as "the colossal dickitude that IS Mike Love."
Okay -- who would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
POSTSCRIPT: I just have to say, as much as I respect the above-mentioned Ken Caillat, I cannot in good conscience excuse him for having spawned -- quite literally -- this crap.
Really. I hate to attribute the sins of the daughter to the father, but wow -- that song is completely inexcusably disgustingly awful. 😎
Welcome to the “Best Rock 'n' Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part 5”, by Captain Al
Shovels & Rope are an example of the 21st Century trend of 2-member bands (think of The White Stripes as an example of how this works). Me, personally, I think S&R are the best current example of this configuration.
Both Cary [Ann Hearst] and and Michael [Trent] are multi-instrumentalists; live, they switch off to the needed instruments throughout their performances, creating a continually varied musical palette way beyond what you would expect from merely two performers. Even cooler, their songwriting is topflight and their vocal blend is simply wonderful.
The short version -- when they create their music together, the combination of the two of them creates a third entity, i.e. “Shovels & Rope”. Which is its own unique thing, taking the music far beyond what you would expect just the two of them to be able to create.
PS: In the studio, of course, they multitrack, which gives the results a totally different flavor than their live work. They’ve created quite a few top studio albums, including their brand new Something is Working Up Above My Head.
But live? They totally kick ass. And if you don’t believe me, check these clips out.
BTW, While researching this piece, I remembered a favorite Lovin Spoonful song -- “Bes’ Friends,” from their masterpiece Hums...
I swear it sounds like a sixty year old prototype for Shovels & Rope.
Hey -- everything is new & everything is old.
Okay, Al -- here's the Spoonful song in question.
You know, I think you're right on the money about this, but our readers can make the call.
In any event, Shovels & Rope -- who I knew nothing about prior to you hipping me to them -- are indeed terrific.
So thanks for the music, pal, and I'm looking forward to future episodes at your leisure!!!
From the land of ice and snow -- no, actually Toronto, Ontario -- in 2024, please enjoy twang-cuties The Surfrajettes and their thoughly adorable "Easy as Pie".
That's the title track from their recently released second waxing, BTW. You can find out more about them, and purchase their music, over at their official website HERE.
I should add that a friend described the rock genre those gals essay as "No-Dick Dale!"
And yes, I'm going to hell for repeating that joke.
So as you may have heard, singer/songwriter/actor Kris Kristofferson passed away over the weekend at the age of 88.
Here's my favorite thing he ever did -- a really cool song he performed live on the soundtrack to Celebration at Big Sur, an otherwise not so wonderful concert film from 1970.
Apart from just being a great lyrical narrative (almost a short story in song, actually), the thing that really gets me about that (and has since I first heard it on a free promo copy at my college newspaper, courtesy of the easily duped people at Ode Records), is the lead guitar work.
If those licks sounds familiar to you, it's because they should -- they're the distinctive and easily recognizable work of the Lovin' Spoonful's great Zal Yanovsky, who was then toiling in Kristofferson's touring band.
Oh, and I know this is perhaps not the way Kris would have liked his cinematic career to be remembered, but here's a very good -- complete -- print of him in Millenium (co-starring Cheryl Ladd!), which is my all-time favorite cheesy sci-fi flick of the '80s.
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