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.