And Speaking as We Were Yesterday of Lothar and the Hand People...

...from their 1968 debut album, please enjoy the aforementioned L&THP and their just wonderfully touching sort of folk-rock ballad "That's Another Story."

These guys were the first real synth-pop band (it's no accident the aforementioned debut album was produced by Robert Moog collaborator Robert Margouleff), but -- as you can hear from the above -- their music was more than just space-age noodling; at heart, they were an old fashioned sort of good-timey outfit in the manner of The Lovin' Spoonful, and just as charming.

I actually saw them open for The Byrds(!) at the Village Gate(!!) in 1966(!!!), and it would not be an exaggerration to say they stole the show. They were beyond tight, charismatic (snazziest dressed band I ever saw) and (more important) had tons of great original songs.

They also did a sort of bouncy remake of "It's All Over Now" that was actually better than the Stones' hit version; to this day, I can play the piano part from their arrangement, and sometime before I die I swear I'm either gonna record it solo or teach some friends to play it in front of an audience.

Bottom line, it made an indelible impression on the then-teenaged me, to the point that years later, I contacted Paul Conly, the band's ace piano and synth guy, via their (still active today) band website, to ask if any live tape of the band performing it had survived. (The answer, alas, was no.)

Incidentally, a very good recording of a full Lothar set, live at Amherst College in 1969, was eventually released on a 2020 CD (titled Machines, after their cover of the Manfred Mann hit of the same name) and I highly recommend it; you can hear the entire thing for free over at YouTube HERE.

And Then He Met Lothar and the Hand People and They All Went Out for Drinks at Their Local Hooters!

From just now in 2025, please enjoy Stephen Hamm -- the charmingly yclept "Theremin Man" -- and what appears to be the entirety of his just released new album Live From Planet Earth.

Obviously, Hamm's brand of space rock/electronica/whatever the kids call it these days doesn't quite fit the mission statement of this here blog. But as attentive readers are aware I am a huge fan of people who play the theremin (hence the Lothar reference in the title above).

And in any case, in our current troubling times, anything that helps us all chill is alright with me.

BTW, Hamm himself is, as they say, an interesting couple of guys. From the official version:

Hamm’s career began in the 1980s as a pivotal member of the legendary Vancouver proto-grunge band Slow. Their 1985 album Against the Glass and its influential EP are credited with helping to ignite the grunge movement, with their raw, abrasive sound leaving a lasting mark on the Pacific Northwest music scene. Slow’s hit "Have Not Been the Same" became a MuchMusic staple, inspiring a generation of musicians, including Kurt Cobain and Sloan. In 2021, the documentary "Exposition Demolition" celebrated Slow’s impact on Canadian rock, cementing Hamm as a key figure in the evolution of grunge and alternative rock. Beyond Slow, Hamm’s career flourished in bands like Tankhog and Jungle, where he earned further recognition for his musical versatility. Tankhog’s 1991 tour with industrial music pioneers Skinny Puppy and Jungle’s European tour during the 1990s conflict in the Balkans are just a few examples of Hamm’s broad influence on the global music scene. As a member of Nardwuar the Human Serviette’s band, The Evaporators, Hamm helped create a chaotic and irreverent blend of garage rock and punk, continuing his commitment to pushing the envelope with unconventional, energetic performances.

Whew. 😎

Anyway, you can (and should) find out more about Theremin Man, and download more of his hand-rock(!) music (including 12 other albums), over at his Bandcamp page HERE.

You're welcome.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "I Thought Career Day Was Usually in November" Edition

From 1970, please enjoy the extremely rich Norman Greenbaum and "Canned Ham" -- the song that DIDN'T add to the fabulous sums of money he's made over the years off of "Spirit in the Sky."

"Canned Ham," of course, was the follow-up; I thought it was brilliant myself (owned a copy of the single), but apparently it lacked that certain je ne sais quoi for the rest of the record-buying public.

That said, let us attend to the weekend's business. To wit:

...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis pop/rock/folk/soul/country One-Hit Wonder solo artist or group is...???

No arbitrary rules whatsoever. In fact, if somebody (like Greenbaum) had more than one record on the radio but is still generally considered a OHW, and that's who you want to nominate -- that's cool.

I should add that no, to my surprise, I've never done this category before (something similar, yes, but not OHW's specifically). I should also add that, upon hearing "Canned Ham" again for the first time in ages, I am struck by the possibility that Erik Jacobsen (who also helmed most of the Lovin' Spoonful's stuff, and all of Chris Isaaks') may very well have been the greatest producer in the history of both rock and roll. And why isn't there a bio-pic about him yet?

Alrighty, then -- what would your choices be?

Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Nancy's Record Collection (and Mine): Special "Great Lost Singles of the I'm Not Sure When" Edition

From the classic 1999 Yellow Pills (Vol. 1), please enjoy the incomparable Adam Schmitt and his shoulda-been-a-smasheroo "Speed Kills."

I can't recall if that was newly recorded for the aforementioned compilation, but in any event it sounds timeless.

Which is to say -- has there been a better power pop song by anybody ever?

I suspect not. 😎

Ready, Steady, Go Already!!!

From just this week, please enjoy The Jette Planes, and their sublimely Brit-pop-1965-ish new single "5:55."

Seriously, and pardon the cliche, but I didn't know they made 'em like that anymore. What a cool record/song.

In case you're wondering who those guys are (I must confess to being previously unaware of them), let's let them clue us in. Take it away, fellas.

Formed in 2018 The Jette Planes are a Philadelphia based rock band with elements of power pop, garage rock, alternative, and much more intertwined into one sound. With their 2021 debut album “In The Movies'' in their back pocket, they continue to create music and perform as a staple of the Philadelphia underground music scene.

Makes sense to me.

Meanwhile, you can (and should) sample their sizeable discography (six previous releases!) over at their Bandcamp page HERE.

Have I mentioned those guitars just kill me? 😎

Great Lost Singles of the Sixties: Special "Folk Rock!!!" Edition

From 1967, please enjoy L.A. stalwarts The Grass Roots and their brilliant (and a song I've always wanted to cover) "Things I Should Have Said."

In case you haven't guessed, I'm a huge fan of the early version of that "band," despite the fact that they were basically a manufactured construct rather than an organic musical entity. The song in question, of course, was written by the genius Sloan (as in P.F.) and Barri team, who were responsible for more great singles than you've had hot meals, but the aforementioned Grass Roots incarnation were wonderful second-tier pioneers of the immediate post-Byrdsian esthetic that made our AM radios sound so good back in the just pre-psychedelic/San Francisco band days.

Later, of course, with slightly different personnel, they had a run of hits -- like "Midnight Confessions" -- which made them a lot of money but didn't do much for their critical reputation. In any case, the above is just fucking fabulous.

Tomorrow: one of the coolest new songs to have crossed my desk in ages. And from Philadelphia, of all places. 😎

Today's Cartoon Chuckle

I think at this point we can agree that pretty much most contemporary commercial pop hits originate in this way.

Sad, really. 😎

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Hello Young Lovers You're Under Arrest" Edition

Hey, it's Valentines Day!

And in its honor, from 2025 and their fab/gear just released new album Aces Eights & Heartreaks, please enjoy The Shang Hi Los and the sublimely 80s/Blondie-ish confection that is their "Monsieur Valentine."

Seriously -- that gets my vote for Best Song of the Year so far.

In any case, you can find out more about those kids -- including where to buy/hear more of the album -- over at their official website HERE.

And of course, all that leads us to the weekend's business. To wit:

...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis pop/rock/folk/soul/country love-themed song is...???

No arbitrary rules whatsoever -- your song can be happy, sad, directed at a specific object of affection, or just a general kind of lovey-dovey sentiment. However you're feeling today.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, my candidate (and I won't specify whether it's my fave or least) is...

...and ain't that something?

Okay -- what would YOUR nominees be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Okay, This Might Be Interesting...

A Led Zeppelin documentary?

In the immortal words of Andrea Martin (as SCTV's programmer Edith Prickley) -- "Could be a hot one!"

BTW, the above is apparently playing in theaters as we speak; my plan is to see it when it shows up on the somewhat smaller (home) screen via Sony, which should be fairly soon. But your mileage may vary.

I should add that I have never been a Zep fan even remotely. But theirs is obviously a hell of a story and-- if memory serves -- I've never seen interviews with either John Bonham or John Paul Jones, so I suspect I'm gonna really enjoy it anyway.

I should also add that I have never owned a Zep album and/or listened to one at home for pleasure...EXCEPT for the last real one (i.e., not a comp of old stuff) they did.

You know -- the one (from 1979) with this absolutely fricking gorgeous song.

Your thoughts?

Closed for Monkey Business

Real life in the age of the Pee-wee Hitler© administration has slowed me down. Sorry.

Actual very cool new music up tomorrow, and get ready for Friday's Valentine's Day observance. Trust me, you'll kvell.

The Last Great Rock Record?

From 1989, please behold in breathless wonder the much-missed (i.e., where's he been lately?) Tone Lōc and his immortal party classic "Funky Cold Medina."

Oh god, that's just perfect; hilarious lyrics, the cowbell digitally lifted from "Honky-Tonk Women," and those sampled guitars (from Foreigner and Kiss, primarily) which work together like a charm.

Serioiusly, first time I heard that I thought I'd gone to rock-and-roll heaven, and I'm only half-kidding about it being the last great etc.

The irony, of course, is that technically it's a rap record, but that's a subject for a whole 'nother time. 😎

Nancy's Record Collection (and Mine): Special "I'd Forgotten How Much I Loved This Song" Edition

From 1973, please enjoy the smash-hit-in-England-but not-so-much-in-this-country "Everyone's Agreed That Everything Will Turn Out Fine" by Stealer's Wheel.

My god, what a great record (those harmonies! that psychedelic break in the middle!). And to anybody who thinks Stealer's Wheel were nothing more than "Stuck in the Middle..." or a warm-up to Gerry Rafferty's solo career, please to be biting me. 😎

I should add that the 45 version above (which was one of my treasured possessions for years) features a vastly superior arrangement to the version that later wound up on the band's Ferguslie Park LP. Why they re-recorded it I have no idea, as the original is as close to perfection as any record ever gets; as you've heard by now, and as I've said in these precincts before, if "Stuck in the Middle" was the band channeling Dylan, this one is them channeling Revolver and late 60s pop psych in general. Simply gorgeous.

Both versions, however, were produced by the immortal team of Leiber and Stoller, and when is there gonna be a bio-pic on THOSE guys?

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "The Golden Age of Graphic Design" Edition

So we finally got around to watching the 2018 documentary BOOM! A Film About the Sonics the other day (that's The Sonics, as in the pioneering Northeast proto-punk band, obviousy, not the video game hedgehog).

The short version: Very entertaining, and one hell of a great story, but it was a bummer to discover that there is, apparently, no extant significant live footage of the band in its early-60s performing heyday.

That said, I was blown away by this early LP cover art of theirs...

...which I had forgotten about, and which is really quite ahead-of-its-time stylish. Especially for an indie record on a small regional label of its day.

And which leads us to the weekend's business. To wit:

And your favorite original cover art/album cover for a rock/pop/soul/blues/folk/comedy/Broadway show/classical LP of the 50's and 60's is...???

No arbitrary rules, except I'm going to enforce the temporaral parameters quite strictly. Which is to say if you try to sneak in something released after the music festival at Altamont, I will come to your house and deliver a severe tongue lashing.

Anyway, my Top Five -- in no particular order -- are....

That Stones LP may be the greatest album cover of anything ever, BTW. And I should add that the title of the book the guy in the top Lenny Bruce album is reading -- Pigs Ate My Roses -- has been making me laugh at inappropriate moments for going on half a century now. 😎

I should also add that Lou Reed's entire career esthetic quite clearly derives from that Paragons/Jesters cover, which I still can't believe was ever actually marketed to 50s doo-wop fans. I mean, wow -- that is without question the most (possibly unintentional) gay thing in world history; it could have just as easily been a jacket for some Grove Press banned-in-Boston smut by Hubert Selby. 😎😎

Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be? Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

An Early Clue to the New Direction: Special "Jingle Jangle Morning" Edition

So I got the just-released vinyl version of the Dylan movie soundtrack over the weekend...

...and take my word for it, it works brilliantly strictly as an album...

...starting with the period-accurate front-and-back sleeves. I gotta tell you, just seeing the old Columbia Records eye logo kind of made my year so far.

BTW, in case you're wondering, the cover is based on this actual Dylan LP.

Pretty cool, no?

Of course, the music is the main attraction, and it's spine-tingling. I'll spare you a longer review, but you get the idea.

I should add that the above is the first new -- non-reissue or vintage/used -- LP I've bought in over 50 years. A factoid which kind of blows my tiny mind. 😎

Meanwhile, a coveted Power Pop No-Prize© will be awarded to the first reader who gleans the above's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Essay Question.

And Young People By the Millions Ask "What's a Transistor Radio?"

From his forthcoming (end of March) album NYC Made, please enjoy Ricky Byrd and his evocative ode to our collective rock-and-roll adolescences "Transistor Radio Childhood."

Co-produced by living rock-and-roll saint Little Steven Van Zandt.

Okay, that's a little a heavy on the obvious nostalgia tropes, but fuck it -- it works. I mean, I was practically in tears by the time he got to the Cousin Brucie reference. 😎

Byrd, of course, is best known for having played guitar with Joan Jett's Blackhearts for like a zillion years; he's a very interesting guy, and you can find out more about him, as well as order the new album, over at his website HERE.

Okay, I gotta go listen to the song again and sniffle.

PS: Here's some asshole whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels, with the aforementioned Cousin Brucie in the hallway at Sirius XM Radio in December 2016.

I was in total "I'm not worthy!" mode, as you can well imagine.

[h/t Molly Duffy]

Capt. Al's 21st Century: Part VI -- What's a Nice Transgender Jewish Person Doing in a Place Like This?

[As attentive readers will recall, our old friend (and more important, Friend of PowerPop©) Allan Rosenberg, aka Capt. Al, has been toiling on a series about his fave recent artists for a while now. The first installment of these musical musings, about Feist, appeared here back in July. Now, as promised, here's episode le sixième! Take it away, you old sea doggie!!! -- S.S.]

Welcome to the “Best Rock&Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part VI”, by Captain Al!!!

There are musical artists that challenge my values. Not just musical but even my life values.

In the 1960’s it was the Velvet Underground. I came to LOVE their music but it came with a struggle as I had to reorient my head to get it around the new ideas and sounds.

In the 1970’s it was David Bowie. It was his music but even more the way he projected his sexuality. I came to very much enjoy his 1970’s output, at first grudgingly then to come to respect in the ways he presented himself to the world.

Also in the 1970’s Brian Eno challenged how I listened and viewed music. Whether his rock music or his ambient music he also rearranged my ears to sounds and what he felt constituted music/sounds.

In the 1980’s the New Romantics taught me no matter how popular a style of music could be it could be so wrong headed it could cause irreparable damage to the baseline of rock and roll. Okay, Duran Duran were fairly good (sometimes) but the rest rotted, stinking up an entire generation’s expectations of what rock should (could) sound like. :-) !

This leads me to today’s featured artist -- Ezra Furman.

First off let’s establish right from the beginning that Ezra Furman is a “Wild Child”! He does everything with his life and musical career full blown and “take no prisoners.”

He doesn’t back down. He creates great music and confronts his sexuality right out in public.

Through the years we've been able to see how he's moved through his life by his actions and the make up of his music.

Now, as far as I know/guess, Ezra is transitioning from a man to a woman. He/she has begun identifying as a woman. I have no idea where this is leading in their(heh) life nor do I care in any political or personal sense. They should be happy, and all I really care about is their music, which is wonderful and rocking!

So here's some examples.

This is some thought-provoking stuff, but her music is always challenging and wonderful. It can take real courage to present what you live and believe in to this world, in the 21st century, and especially now, at this perilous moment here in the US of A.

Give it a try!

--- Capt. Al

Holy kazoosis!

Those are some pretty out there wild-and-wacky avant-garde audio/video products, pardner! I gotta confess, I was previously unaware of this Furman critter, and having now watched/listened to those clips I'm not quite sure what I think about them (in both the nominative and gender senses of the word "them." Thank you.).

But good on you for hepping us to Furman! That was a great closer for the series.

Unless, of course, there are going to be more episodes forthcoming. In which case -- let's do lunch. 😎

Wails From the Crypt (An Occasional Series): Special "Great Media Crushes of My Youth" Edition

As you may have heard, the incomparable Marianne Faithfull departed this sad vale of tears on Thursday last at the age of 78.

Needless to say, I was a long-time and huge fan, and when I heard the news, I thought I should post my musings on her breakthrough New Wave album Broken English, from the February 1980 issue of the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review. Which I only barely remembered.

And so here they are.

Mariannae Faithfull (heavy sigh, as Mork from Ork would say) has been my ultimate dream date for about as long as I can remember, as I think she is for a lot of people who went through puberty when I did. Just ask Patti Smith, for example, who wrote a poem about her I can't read without quivering. For those of you too young to remember her, however, let's just say that of all the female icons of London when it was Swinging (rather than Burning), she was by far the most memorable, with a face that could melt your heart and a voice that could turn your limbs to Jello. If you need proof, watch your Public Television outlet for the film version of the Tony Richardson/Nicol Williamson Hamlet, in which she is perhaps the sexiest Ophelia ever to grace a stage. (The relationship with her brother Laertes is, uh, closer than need be). Or better still, rummage up a copy of her 1968 Rolling Stones-backed single of "Sister Morphine," a devastating performance that sounds like it must have been recorded at Season-in-Hell studios; Mick Jagger's more famous version sounds positively idyllic in comparison.

Marianne's been through a lot, in the gossip-column sense, since then, and though she's still gorgeous at thirty-two, life in the fast lane has clearly taken a toll on her voice. Where once she sang like a school girl wise beyond her years, now she comes off as Tallulah Bankhead on methadone. For all that, she's as individual as ever, and if anything, she's a better singing actress than she was in the days when she was fresh out of the convent.

Broken Engish is the result of her hanging out on the fringes of the New Wave scene (her husband, Ben Brierly, who worked on the record, used to be bass player for The Vibrators). Though it's hardly a complete success, and fairly reeks of Catholic guilt, it has a number of interesting moments, including a powerful, if overdressed, version of John Lennon's "Working Class Hero." But what you should buy it for is an astonishing meditation on sexual jealousy called "Why'd Ya do It," in which, while the excellent band wails an atonal, jaggedly metallic mutated reggae, Marianne delivers a dialogue between two angry lovers that is probably the frankest, scariest thing of its kind ever committed to vinyl. You can practically hear her going after the guy's genitals with a meat cleaver. Sure, it's exploitative, and a little too neat a publicity gimmick (let's not forget she made her initial splash by appearing out of wedlock and obviously pregnant on English television), but it's also enormously effective theater. Call me perverse, if you will, but I find myself playing it quite a lot. Ah Marianne -- you can chase after me with a meat cleaver anytime. -- S.S.

Heh. 😎

Seriously -- I think I nailed it pretty good. Plus, it's funny; I'm particularly fond of the "Tallulah Bankhead on methadone" line.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Heh Heh -- He Said 'Organists'" Edition

So as I'm sure you're aware, the great Garth Hudson passed away at the age of 87 last week. I have little to say about him that hasn't been said by better scribblers than myself, but in his honor I thought I'd adapt something he figured in that I originally posted here back in 2019 (two great Hudson audio clips at the link, BTW).

Which leads us to today's business. To wit:

...and your favorite organ part/riff/solo on a post-Elvis pop/rock/folk/soul record is...???

In case you're wondering, mine can be heard, by Alan Price (the genius who made The Animals), below.

I gotta tell you -- back in my musical youth, I killed many frustrating hours trying to learn how to play that solo, without success.

I should add that my plan was gonna be to make today's post a Listomania of Best Organ Players, which I have not specifically done before, but in the end I decided not to because (1) there are, frankly, too many to choose from and anyway (2) I didn't want to rank my choices. (If pressed, BTW, and in no particular order, my Top Five fave organists are the aforementioned Hudson and Price, plus Felix Cavaliere of the Rascals. Matthew Fisher of Procol Harum, and Bob Andrews of Brinsley Schwarz).

And speaking of Bob Andrews...

...therein lies one of my favorite true tales, which I have told before, but which behooves repeating in honor of the recently departed.

The short version: So Andrews -- seen in the clip above covering himself in glory with some of the most lyrical keyboard work imaginable -- was, not surprisingly, a huge fan of Garth Hudson, and was constantly updating his gear in emulation of the Great Man Himself; if there was an effects pedal or amp Hudson used, Andrews would immediately add it to his arsenal, trying to get that elusive Hudson sound. Only problem was, no matter what he did, he couldn't quite achieve total Garth-ness and it drove him nuts.

Anyway, sometime in the early 70s The Band toured the UK and at one point wound up rehearsing at the Brinsley's studio and using their equipment. Garth walked in, said nothing to anybody, turned all of Andrews' keyboards and other equipment on, put his fingers to the keys, and immediately sounded just like himself.

And Andrews, who had been lurking in a corner too awed to even say hello to his idol, literally wept. 😎

Alrighty then -- what YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Today's Cartoon Chuckle

From the current issue of The New Yorker.

Dont know who the cartoonist is, but if his art career runs into problems, he's got a gig somewhere as a rock critic. 😎

Songs Appropriate For/Suggested By the Second Trump Administration (An Occasional Series): Special "Glug Glug Glug" Edition

The Replacements' classic ode to "Beer for Breakfast."

Which is perhaps less amusing than it used to be (during the Reagan years, when it was originally recorded -- i.e., a period I then thought represented the lowest ebb of the American Experiment in democracy).

But then again, most things lately are less amusing than they used to be. Which only proves that I was an optimist in 1987. 😎

In any case, I should add that I am not endorsing the song's sentiments as a lifestyle choice.

More upbeat posting resumes on the morrow.

Closed for Monkey Business

Oy gevalt, I'm exhausted from all this President Napoleon Bonapartheid shit.

Not to mention all his swastikars. (I really love that coinage, BTW).

Anyway, genuine music stuff resumes tomorrow. Cross my heart.

Present at the Creation

And speaking of Bob Dylan -- as we all seem to have been since the bio-pic came out and Timothée Chalamet kicked ass covering three of the man's songs on SNL --

-- and in case you missed this in last week's NY Times.

The short version:

Two sheets of yellowed stationery are crumpled but intact, with typewritten lyrics and scribbled changes that offer a rare glimpse into the creative process of their famed author as he penned one of the best-known songs of the 1960s.
The early drafts of Bob Dylan’s 1965 chart-topper “Mr. Tambourine Man” sold this weekend for more than $500,000, according to Julien’s Auctions, the California-based house that facilitated the sale.

The delicate papers were sold alongside dozens of other Dylan memorabilia from the artist’s early career in the 1960s, including sketches and photographs.

The lyrics were part of the personal trove of the prolific rock ‘n’ roll journalist Al Aronowitz, who cut his own trail through the 1960s as chronicler and confidant of the era’s artists and musicians, including Dylan.

“He never threw anything away,” said Aronowitz’s son Myles Aronowitz, who has spent years sifting through some 250 boxes containing his father’s personal collection, a time capsule of 1960s music and writing.

For Dylan experts, the lyrics offer a rare, early glimpse of how Dylan approached his work and the mechanics of songwriting.

“It’s absolutely mind-blowing, and confirmation that this is how genius works,” said Richard Thomas, a classics professor at Harvard who also teaches a course on Dylan’s writing.

The drafts of “Mr. Tambourine Man” were “family lore,” Myles Aronowitz said, and his father, who died in 2005, could not recall where or how he had filed them away. For years, his family believed the drafts were lost.

Myles Aronowitz and his wife unearthed the papers recently as they organized his father’s collections. They expect to put together another auction, but hope to eventually turn over the archives to a library or museum.

Wow.

BTW, if you're not familiar with Al Aronowitz -- who essentially invented my job, i.e. rock journalism (as a columnist for the pre-Murdoch New York Post, among other outlets) -- let's just say that he was one of the most remarkable figures of an era in American popular culture that had lots of them. He knew everybody and was there for everything, from the late 50s to the early 70s, and his rise and eventual fall is both an amazing story and something very close to Greek tragedy.

The more I think about it, I gotta say -- somebody really should write a book about the guy's life and career.

Hmm...I wonder who might be a good choice for the job? 😎

Weekend Listomania: Special "Who Let the Dogs (and Cats) Out? " Edition

[I originally did a version of this back in...yikes...2009. For today's updated posting, I've done some serious rewriting and swapped a couple of entries so as not to appear to be the lazy slacker I actually am. In the meantime, please enjoy. -- S.S.]

So the other day, I stumbled across this photo of our late lamented feline friend The Incomparable Eddie©...

...and I thought, hey, there's a possible subject for you know what.

And which leads us to our fin de la semaine business. To wit:

Most Memorable Post-Beatles Pop/Rock/Soul/Folk Song or Record Referencing Members of the Animal Kingdom (Pets or in the Wild) in the Title or Lyrics!!!

No arbitrary rules, you're welcome very much, except no band names need apply, okay? So don't gimme any of that Monkees shit 'cause I don't don't wanna hear it.

And my totally top of my head Top Six is/are...

6. Al Wilson -- The Snake

"You knew I was a snake before you brought me in." You gals know the feeling, I'm sure.

5. The Fools -- Psycho Chicken

When this originally came out in 1980, I remember thinking it was a long-overdue skewering of David Byrne's pretentious anxiety attacks. In retrospect, it's basically just a sort of sophmoric Weird Al record, which is to say only moderately amusing or smart, and I'm somewhat more forgiving of Byrne's neuroses these days.

4. Bruce Springsteen -- Pretty Flamingo

Originally a hit for Manfred Mann, and written by a guy (previously unknown to me) named Mark Barkan, whose other claim to fame is penning the theme from The Banana Splits. Talk about credits. 😎

A great song, in any event, but since I'm always looking for an excuse to post the above particularly gorgeous 1975 live version (from the famous Roxy bootleg) by Bruce Springsteen this works out pretty well.

3. The Hollies and Peter Sellers-- After the Fox

Jeebus -- even Burt Bacharach's joke songs are gorgeous. I mean seriously; that piano-riff-with-the-vocal-hisses is just a killer hook, isn't it?

2. Gilda Radner -- Let's Talk Dirty to the Animals

Written by the late great comic genius Michael O'Donaghue. And could Gilda be any funnier/sexier? I think not.

And my personal favorite song about species other than our own is...

1. Henry Gross -- Shannon

Gross was one of the original members of Sha-Na-Na, but also -- as you can hear from the above melodically fab ode to Beach Boy Carl Wilson's then lamented dog and glimpse from the Rickenacker 12-string he's playing in the clip -- he's obviously also a serious power pop guy.

Sheesh. I'm gonna have to do some more research on him along those lines, but really...how comes he doesn't seem to be a household word/genre cult figure already?

In any case -- alrighty then. What would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Eerily Prescient Recordings of the Pre-Trump Era (An Occasional Series): Special "Sorry I Couldn't Find a Surf Version of the Horst Wessel Song" Edition

From 1995 and their utterly fab album The Amazing Colossal Band, please enjoy (my fave Finnish group of all time) Laika and the Cosmonauts and their sinister ode to "The Man From H.U.A.C."

I was gonna say I wore that whole album out when I first got it, but of course you can't wear out CDs. Anyway, you know what I mean.

In any case, I expect President Napoleon Bonapartheid (heh) to bring the House UnAmerican Activities Committe back from the dustbin of history at any moment now, so the song just seemed appropriate.

Wednesday Essay Question: Special "Compare and Contrast in Hell" Edition

The Mona Lisa Twins' latest offering -- a spine-tingling cover of the Simon and Garfunkel classic.

Those kids, who by any objective standard should be international superstars instead of well-regarded cult figures, have never been the musical guests on Saturday Night Live.

And yet this person, who is at best an unintentional parody of a parody of an aerobicist...

...has/just was.

Does this disparity say something about our current pop culture in general or is it merely a reflection of the limits of Lorne Michael's declining acuity?

Discuss.

Closed for (Post-)Inaugural Monkey Business

Sorry, kids; I found yesterday too depressing to deal with.

Normal actual music-related posting resumes on the morrow.

Honest. Seriously, For real.

Today's Cartoon Chuckle(s)

Have I mentioned I love the unfortunately late Sam Gross (1933 - 2023)?

I mean, this classic (unlike the above) hasn't got even a tenuous connection to anything involving the subject of this here blog, but still...

In any event, tomorrow -- a post about something music-related that somebody really should write a book about.

Hmm. That somebody could possibly be me. 😎

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "In Search of Eddie Riff" Edition

Actually, I should have titled today's post with the traditional "Words Fail Me," but bonus points will be awarded to the first reader who identifies the source of the above.

In any event, please behold in breathless wonder as some internet guitar nerd (whose name I haven't been able to determine -- assistance gratefully accepted) shows you how to play the guitar stuff from The Beatles (by way of Buddy Holly) classic "Words of Love."

I don't have a guitar in the house anymore -- not to mention the arthritis in my left hand really sucks -- so I can't do what I would really like to do, which as you have surely guessed would be to put up a YouTube of me playing the part. Nevertheless, I think you'll nonetheless agree that the clip is just so fabulous it hurts.

Of course, if any of you guys out there who play wanna take a shot at it...

In the meantime, this leads us to the weekend's business. To wit:

What guitar riff/part/solo on a post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/folk/country record would you most like to be able to play note for note?

Discuss.

BTW, obviously, you don't actually have to be a guitar player to participate; this is strictly aspirational.

Alrighty then -- have a great weekend, everybody!!!

[h/t Jai Guru Dave]

Great Farewell Notes of Rock History (An Occasional Series)

You know, some days I really love my phony baloney job. Particularly when a great new song by an artist or artists previously unknown to me crosses my desk unbidden.

Case in point: the Sloan Brothers' just released "Breathing Distress Blues (DOA PDA)."

Inspirational verse:

If I die in this motel room I've loved you
Collect my rapidly-fading thoughts and write 'em down as I'm turning blue
I'll leave this DOA PDA for the coroner
"Instead of calling 911, he wrote a song for her"

The housekeeper will let herself in early afternoon
The notepad by the bed will prob'ly be misconstrued
They'll look for pills or works but I'm dying clean
Just a guy who got too sick and couldn't breathe

About the Sloan Brothers, alas, I knew little, but I can tell you that they aren't actually brothers; the band is in reality one worthy -- R. Sloan Simpson -- who writes and sings and plays everything but the lead guitar, and has friends who assist him with that, which sounds like a pretty cool way to work. In the meantime, you can (and should) check out more about him/them over at his/their(heh) website HERE.

In any event, the bottom line is that I love that song, which is hooky and hilarious. And I like the guy's attitude a lot.

Alrighty then -- you can download "Breathing Distress Blues" (cheap!) at the aforementioned Bandcamp link, and there's also two other songs there, in a similarly mordant vein, which you can (and should) audition as well.

I'll let you know as soon as I hear more from the Unibrother.

But in the meantime: Hey, R. Sloan -- thanks for sharing!!! 😎

And People Thought It Was Such a Big Deal When Beyoncé Did That Sgt. Carter Shit

Country music? Please enjoy some by that guy from an old British band -- Ringo Starr (with the great Alison Krauss in there somewhere).

Specifically, "Thankful," the closing number from Ringo's new album/cultural artifact Look Up. Produed by the also great T-Bone Burnett.

Okay, that track isn't itself objectively great, objectively, but if you don't get a little verklempt listening to it you really need to seek medical attention.

Your Tuesday Moment of Why Didn't I Get the Memo?

Our good friend Sal Nunziato, proprietor of the invaluable Burning Wood blog linked to this the other day...

...and it frankly blew my tiny geriatric mind.

Just to put this in context -- I've been a rabid Mott the Hoople fan from the minute I stole a then new copy of their eponymous debut album from my college radio station in 1969. And I remained one through all their subsequent flop albums on Atlantic, and then their commercial rebirth as glam icons after David Bowie gifted them "All the Young Dudes." They're like one of my favorite bands ever.

So how did I miss the above?

You got me, although to cut me some slack, the Mott version was never on an American LP back in the day, and it was apparently only released (in 1971) as a 45 in Britain.

Still, I'm hanging my head in shame. But better late than never, I guess.

And thanks, Hoople guys -- granted, it doesn't really sound like you (is that really Ian Hunter singing lead?), but it's unquestionably one of the coolest Crazy Horse covers (written by the late great Danny Whitten) -- and proto-power pop songs -- ever committed to magnetic tape.

Today's Cartoon Chuckle

Nancy -- the ZZ Top years. 😎

Heh.

Actual -- new(!) -- music resumes on the morrow.

La fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "How Do You Say 'Hit the Road, Jackie the K' in Yiddish?" Edition

But before we begin, may I just respectfully ask, of all our readers, to make sure you've checked out the tribute to genius power-pop band Something Fierce that ran yesterday. I.e., if you haven't already seen it, scroll down to the post below today's post -- it's something kinda dear to my increasingly sclerotic heart, and I would take it as a personal favor.

And with that out of the way, let's move on to the business at hand. To wit:

...and your favorite fade-out at the end of a post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/folk/country/r&b record of all time is...???

My choice? Oh hell, it isn't even a contest.

From 1964, please enjoy The Rolling Stones and (beginning at approximately the 3:32 mark) the dimuendo-ing outro to their classic "It's All Over Now." (Presented here in genuine stereo, you're welcome very much.)

Oh. My. God. Those precisely repetitive chiming guitars disappearing slowly but inexorably into a wash of reverb...I gotta tell you, the first time I heard that over my AM car radio back in the day I thought it was the most incredibly haunting and hypnotic thing I'd ever experienced. And, if truth be told, I still do.

I should add that it was also the most astoundingly avant-garde thing anybody had ever encountered on a Top 40 station at that point in history; it is not an exaggeration to say that what you're hearing there is the first genuine artifact of the musical style now known as Minimalism. Which is to say the Stones got to it years before that annoying putz Phillip Glass misunderstandingly converted it into the major classical music irritant of the late 20th Century.

In any case, what would your choices be?

Discuss.

PS: In case you haven't heard it, and because I love you all more than food, here's the original version the Stones were covering.

The Valentinos hit (also from 1964) featured the song's co-writer, r-&-b great Bobby Womack on guitar and vocals, and production by Sam Cooke(!); as you can hear, their take on the song is almost jaunty/jolly, unlike the Stones remake, which positively drips menace.

I should also add that, according to Mick Jagger in (I believe) the first interview he did in Rolling Stone magazine, the band was turned onto it by none other than legendary deejay Murray the K(aufman); Jagger said, and I'm paraphrasing, that the Stones kinda thought Murray was a twat, but he did give them a great song so they were grateful.

Okay -- have a great rest of the weekend, everybody!!!

Something Fierce This Way Comes...Finally!!!

As long-time readers may be aware, Something Fierce -- a bunch of guys I've never met, but with whom I nonetheless have a sort-of personal relationship going back several decades -- are the greatest pop/rock band you've never heard of unless you're from Minneapolis.

You can (and should) read the perhaps poignant details of our shared history over HERE, but the short version is I've been a fan since 1989, when I first wrote about them in the pages of Stereo Review. Suffice it to say that of all the music I was lucky enough to discover as part of my job at that rag, Something Fierce's is the stuff that has meant the most to me over the years. Seriously.

In any event, the reason I bring them up now is that -- yay!!!! -- all their long out-of-print albums (including two flat out masterpieces) are at last available again, for streaming/listening or purchase, over at this one convenient site HERE.

This is like the greatest news ever, although I must admit (to my everlasting shame) that it's actually not (news, that is). In reality, the stuff has actually been up over there for a while, but for some reason I never got the memo, My apologies to the band in this regard. 😎

Anyway, by way of penance, I thought I'd give the PowerPop community a representative sampling of the aural delights you can find at that splendid site.

Let's start with "Deep and Meaningful," which is the first SF song I fell in love with.

And I think we've all known that girl. Hell, I think we've all dated her.

And then there's the gorgeous "Oscillating Fan," with (as I said back in the day) its swirling Revolver-ish instrumental section that doubles back on the lyrical conceit.

Pretty fucking brilliant, no?

And then there's "Poetic Justice Thurgood." An ode to the late great SCOTUS guy...

...that should have been a single, if only because the 45 would have looked so damned cool.

And then of course there's this, which isn't power pop, but is nonetheless a work of genius.

About which, at the time of its original release (in 1996), I wrote ...

"One song [from A Sound for Sore Ears] deserves particular mention...specifically, 'Watergate,' in which [they] posit -- over a hilariously overdramatic instrumental bed -- that A Girlfriend From Hell is the metaphorical equivalent of the Nixon scandals and sustain the conceit for more than five fricking minutes. If nothing else, this must be the first song in history to contemplate rhyming 'spill the beans' with 'Haldeman, Mitchell and Dean,' and I would like to go on record, at this juncture, as saying that this song remains for my money the most audacious conceptual masterstroke on any '90s rock album by anybody. So there."

...and I stand by every word.

Bottom line: Those guys were great, your life is the poorer for it if you haven't heard them, and the band link I posted above -- where you can access every single note they ever recorded -- is the most important cultural treasure trove since the library at Alexandria. Get over there now!!!

PS: Attentive readers may recall that Fierce guitarist Jerry Lefkowitz is currently kicking out the jams as part of the band behind America's coolest punk rock gal Cindy Lawson; if they're ever performing in your neck of the woods, drop everything and go.

PPS: I can't believe I didn't put this one -- "Vegetable Guy" -- up top. It's ostensibly tongue in cheek, but it leaves me with chills every time. Wow.

PPPS: In a daring break with the hidebound traditions of this here blog, I will be posting a new Weekend Essay Question on Saturday. Thought you oughta know.

My god, how avant-garde!!! 😎

Closed for Monkey Business

Tomorrow -- an absolutely fab tribute to the best power pop band you've never heard of unless you came from Minnesota.

Seriously -- with links to some great songs and a true story that will make you a little misty.

Today's Rare Photo -- The Fifth Beatle!!!

Heh.

BTW -- the guy actually responsible for that famous/controversial alleged Bigfoot home movie turned out to be the late great John Chambers, i.e. the Hollywood makeup genius who invented Mr. Spock's ears and, more importantly, was responsible for the costumes in the original Planet of the Apes movies.

Irony is so ironic.

As Promised, Some Actual Power Pop Today!!!

From their 2018 best-of CD Past and Present, please enjoy pride-of-Illinois jangle-rock mavens The Spindles and their drop dead gorgeous cover of the Graham Gouldman-penned Hollies masterpiece "Look Through Any Window."

Hey -- what can I tell you; apparently, I was genetically bred to love that song. But still -- that's an exceptionally fab take on it.

In any case, those guys have been dispensing equally swell stuff for quite a while now, and you should order the aforementioned retrospective album over at their official website HERE now.

You'll also find information about their upcoming gigs -- hello, power pop fans in the Chicago area!!! -- and their new album (due in the spring) over there, so the proverbial word to the wise.

You're welcome very much. 😎

Have I mentioned -- The Spindles rule!!!

Kvetch Me If You Can!!!

From his 1957 album Mish Mosh, please enjoy yiddish Spike Jones-ish musical parodist Mickey Katz -- perhaps better known these days as Cabaret star Joel Grey's father/Dirty Dancing star Jennifer Grey's granddad -- and his hilariously tacky "How Much is That Pickle in the Window?
.

I stumbled across the above quite by accident the other day; it's an amusing story, but I'll share it with you guys at some other time. Preferably involving something kosher. 😎

In the meanwhile, regular posting -- by which I mean, music and stuff that's actually relevant to the theme of this here blog -- resumes tomorrow.

Sorry for the delay, but I'm still recuperating from the holidays.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Not Bob Dylan, But an Incredible Simulation!" Edition

As attentive readers are aware, a certain Shady Dame and I went to see Timmy the C in director James Mangold's highly hyped Dylan bio-pic A Complete Unknown the other day.

The short version: to paraphrase Siskel and Ebert, two very enthusiastic thumbs up, and I'm looking forward to seeing it again soon. The occasional (minor) anachronism/chronological inaccuracy notwithstanding, this is both a first-class evocation of some never-to-be-repeated watershed events in pop/political cultural history, and a surprisingly sophisticated psychological exploration of what made an artistic genius tick. Plus it's just a hell of a lot of fun.

More specifically, I should add that the performances are stellar throughout; Timmy and Edward Norton (as the film's conscience, elder folk legend and mensch Pete Seeger) are the obvious (deserved) Oscar-bait, but I was also particularly surprised by and taken with Elle Fanning, who's wonderful in the thankless role of Suze Rotolo, the Sixties counter-culture's most celebrated real-life ex-girlfriend. I should also add that the art-direction/period detail throughout is itself worth the price of admission; in particular, the first-half evocation of Greenwich Village in the early '60s is going to induce many dropped jaws in anybody who was around at the time or who simply has an affection for that historical moment.

The music? Well, older readers may recognize today's title as a play on the advertising tagline for Broadway's Beatlemania, the cheesy 70s musical that essentially invented the phenomenon of the modern tribute band, and thus has much to answer for. I must admit that, along those lines, I was way skeptical going into A Complete Unknown. I mean, just what the world needs, right -- a Zimmerman repertory act; at best it would be tacky, and at worst, an unintentional evocation of the much-missed (and hilarious) Bob Dylan Impersonator's Contest they used to hold annually at the old Speakeasy club on MacDougal Street.

Well, I was wrong; when the film's recreated music is at its most successful, i.e. when Chalamet is center stage, it's across-the-board riveting and dead-on believably convincing -- with the exception of the sonic ambience of the applause in the early coffee house scenes (which for some reason sounds inappropriately huge, as if lifted from the audience audio feed at a Taylor Swift arena show) and for the otherwise terrific performance of Monica Barbaro as Joan Baez, who, probably wisely, makes little attempt to duplicate the sui generis folk-angelic vocals of her real-life character.

Bottom line: If you doubt me on this, take a listen to Chalamet doing a certain Dylan classic you may be familiar with (from the forthcoming movie soundtrack album, BTW).

I don't know about you guys, but to me that sounds both eerily accurate and quite ineffably moving.

Two final caveats: I gotta say, I kind of feel sorry for my long-time hero, keyboardist Al Kooper, whose character shows up, briefly, in the second half of the film, limned by actor Charlie Tahan, who does't look a goddamned bit like him. And speaking of ahistorical -- I was kind of shocked to realize that nowhere in any of the film's Village scenes is it suggested, either by Mangold or co-screenwriter Jay Cocks, that New York University is an actual living organism that is, at this very moment, growing inexorably leftward towards America's West Coast. 😎

Which leads us to the rest of the business at hand. To wit:

...and your favorite or least favorite bio-pic of a rock era solo musical artist or group is...???

No arbitrary rules this time; hell, if you want to nominate 40s stuff like The Jolson Story or that Cole Porter bio with Cary Grant (you know, the one where Cole isn't gay), go for it.

Anyway, in case you're wondering, my faves are the 2010 The Runaways (Kristen Stewart brilliant as Joan Jett)...

...and the 2007 What We Do Is Secret, with Shane West also brilliant as the late Germs frontman Darby Crash.

Alrighty then -- what would YOUR picks to click be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Closed for Post-New Year's Day Monkey Business

My absolutely brilliant review -- I"m not kidding, it's one of my best pieces in a long time -- of Dylan bio-pic A Complete Unknown goes up tomorrow.

Today -- I'm crashing. Sorry. 😎

It's New Years Day, and I Couldn't Be Happier: Special "How Do You Say 'Gallows Humor' in Yiddish?" Edition

Seriously -- Happy fricking New Year, everybody. And I wish you that, secure in the knowledge that 2025 will be without a chinchilla of doubt, the suckiest year any of us has experienced in memory.

Suckier than 1968 even, unless we're very lucky. Which I doubt we will be.

[Cue our readers: "Steve -- adjust your meds."]

Anyway, as I mentioned yesterday, my thoughts on the new Dylan bio-pic and my not-quite-top-ten albums of the year list will appear tomorrow. (Barring the unforseen, of course, which is not guaranteed. 😎)

In the meantime, in keeping with an occasional PowerPop tradition, from his 1990 album, please enjoy the irrepressible Andy Breckman and his ode to feeling reasonably okay despite everything -- "I Had a Good Day."

I didn't throw up
I didn't throw up
About a quarter to four
I almost threw up
But I didn't throw up
I had a real good day

My brother didn't die
My mother didn't die
My father didn't die
My sister didn't die
Mr. Greenblatt died
I had a real good day

Incidentally, I remain convinced that the Rolling Stones are singing "Mr. Greenblatt died" rather than "You make a grown man cry" in "Start Me Up."

Apparently, I have issues.