PowerPop

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): We've Got Only One Thing to Say to You Fucking Hippies...

2009-11-09T00:00:00.001-05:00

You know, people always ask me "Steve -- you're incredibly old...did you go to Woodstock?"

And I always answer, "Uh, no, I didn't, but then again neither did Joni Mitchell, dickweed, and she wrote the goddamn theme song."

In any case, from 1972 and the incredibly great Godfrey Daniel LP, here's what the aforementioned theme song always should have sounded like. Make sure you stick around for the suspiciously familiar keyboard solo after the second chorus.

And people thought the CSNY cover was the definitive rock 'n' roll version.

Incidentally, Take a Sad Song..., which features eleven more (then) contemporary rock classics given the oldies treatment, is an absolute stroke of genius, but it's been out of print more or less since the day it was originally released. Collectables announced a CD version in 2005, which showed up (and is still there) on Amazon, but it never apparently came out in the real world -- one assumes there were rights issues of some sort. In any case, I've been looking for a digital edition since forever, and now -- courtesy of esteemed reader Merciful Lee Dickens, who transferred it from an unopened vinyl copy he got off eBay -- I've got one, which I will be glad to share with anybody who e-mails me about it.

Who were Godfrey Daniel, you ask? I had always heard they were two staff engineers at Atlantic Records -- that's the old Atlantic Studio circa 1958 on the album cover -- but it turns out to be a somewhat more interesting story, courtesy of Ron Christopher, posting over at Amazon.

The album is only Andy Soloman ('ALL' vocals, and 'All' instruments) and Dave Palmer (Drums). Studio musicians appear on two cuts credited as the Charles Soloman Orchestra. Dave co-produced with Andy, and engineered|mixed as well. The album is mixed in mono, except for the splash cymbal ending on 'Groovin' which is stereo. It was born out of a send up demo Andy made with Dave on a sound-on-sound Sony TC-630 reel-to-reel recorder in 1969. While making The Amboy Dukes last original lineup album 'Marriage' for Polydor records, lengendary producer|engineer Eddie Kramer heard the doo-wop version of 'Hey Jude' and totally flipped out. The Atlantic deal soon followed. Dave left the band to become an engineer at Electric Lady Studios with Eddie, and Andy eventually left Ted for a career in commercial music writing. That's the true backstory...Dave Palmer is my cousin.

God, I love the intertubes....

The Angels Want to Wear My Red Blogwhore Shoes

2009-11-06T22:34:00.006-05:00

Uh, forgot to mention this in the whole travel thing, but my parallel Weekend Cinema Listomania -- theme: Most Memorable Flick About a Supernatural Entity Intervening in Human Affairs, Great or Small -- is now up over at Box Office.

As always, if you could see your way to going over there and leaving a comment, snarky or otherwise, it would keep me in good with management.

Thanks in advance!

Weekend Listomania: Special The Undiscovered Country Edition)

2009-11-06T00:00:00.004-05:00

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental philo-groinal consultant Fah Lo Suee and I will be heading to a Learning Annex in Stillwater, Minnesota where we'll be attending a special accounting seminar hosted by Rep. Michelle Bachmann (R-Prozac). Apparently she's got some kind of system where you can prove that 4000 dollars actually equals 150,000; should come in handy next time I'm trying to balance my checkbook.

In any case, posting by moi will more than likely be sporadic for a little while.

But in the meantime, here's another little fun project for us all:

Most Memorable Post-Elvis Pop or Rock Song About Getting Away From It All

Songs about travel, in other words, or more specifically the specific faraway places you might dream of someday travelling to.

And my totally top of my head Top Five is:

5. The Kinks -- Holiday in Waikiki

Based on a true story, or so I've heard. Apparently it stuck in Ray's craw that he had to pay to go swimming on some idyllic beach. A fabulous song in any case -- that Hawaiian guitar break in the middle doing the hula thing never fails to crack me up.

4. The Clash -- London Calling

Okay, granted it's not exactly a travel poster, but it makes you want to go there just the same, no?

3. The Go-Go's -- Vacation

My favorite Go-Go was Jane Weidlin, in case anybody was wondering. Wotta cutie.

2. Three Dog Night -- Shambala

I figured we needed a hippie hashish trail song here, but I'm just sick to death of "Marakesh Express." Sorry. Anyway, I really like this one even if Three Dog Night aren't cool.

And the numero uno On the Road to Somewhere tune, I'll brook no debate, has to be --

1. Gene Pitney -- Mecca

For obvious reasons. I love this record, incidentally, and I think it's really pretty sad that it can't be played on oldies stations anymore -- also for obvious reasons.

Alrighty then -- what would your choice(s) be?

Oh Just Wank Me Already, It's Another Early Clue to the New Direction

2009-11-05T14:46:00.002-05:00

From 1966, please enjoy The Byrds and "2-4-2 Foxtrot (The Lear Jet Song)," the (let's be frank) concluding throwaway track from Fifth Dimension (my personal fave of their albums nonetheless).

Roger McGuinn (still Jim, at that point) actually taped the sound of a Lear jet on the runaway for the track, and over the years it's apparently been a source of some irritation to him that most people assume it's in fact a vacuum cleaner.

In any case, as always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who gleans the track's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Garage Bands of the Gods

2009-11-05T00:04:00.003-05:00

From 1965, here's toughest American band of its (or any other) day The Sonics, featuring the astonishing and frightening vocals of the great and possibly demented Gerry Roslie, with their proto-punk masterpiece "Cinderella."

And from sometime in the mid-80s, please enjoy New York City local heroes The Fuzztones, with their supercharged cover version.

Okay, this may be heretical, but as great as the original is, and I'll grant you Roslie's vocals are in a class by themselves, I seriously think the cover is not only an improvement, I consider it one of the most exciting rock records ever. Three chords and a cloud of dust, as they say. Also great attitude and the addition of the tambourine and (especially) the blues harp is a stroke of genius.

If I was in a band I'd love to open a set with this, is what I'm saying.

Somebody Busted a Button On His Trousers

2009-11-04T00:02:00.000-05:00

As promised, my review of Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out, the Maysles Brothers' "new" documentary on the Rolling Stones at the Garden in '69 (i.e. the outtakes from Gimme Shelter), is now up over at Box Office.

GYYYO the movie is also available as a bonus DVD on the new 40th anniversary edition of the similarly titled live album. Needless to say, if somebody wants to get it for me for Christmas, I probably wouldn't object.

Incidentally, I saw the film on Friday at the IFC Theater in Manhattan, which used to be called The Waverly. Halfway through, it suddenly dawned me it's the same theater I saw Gimme Shelter in the week it opened in 1970. With a bunch of pissed off New York Hells Angels sitting and muttering in the row in front of me.

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Blues With a Feeling

2009-11-03T07:56:00.001-05:00

Saw the Maysles Bros. new Rolling Stones flick Get Yer Ya-Yas Out the other day -- my review will be up over at Box Office momentarily I think -- and one of the best scenes is Mick and Keith doing an unplugged version of "You Gotta Move." Mick, at his most transparently disingenuous, prefaces it by saying "We've been trying to find out who wrote it, but we don't know."

Actually, it's by Mississippi Fred McDowell and Rev. Gary Davis; here's Fred doing it on an early 60s album that probably was in Keith's record collection.

And from the same year -- and from Night Beat (which I am willing to bet is the most amazing rock/r&b masterpiece you probably have never heard) -- here's the great Sam Cooke's gorgeous, and slightly more urban(e), version. That's the 16-year-old Billy Preston playing the cool keyboard stuff, by the way.

And just to bring it all back home, here's the Stones' famous studio cover from Sticky Fingers (1971).

Reportedly, McDowell himself was flattered by the Stones version, his 1969 album I Do Not Play No Rock 'N' Roll notwithstanding. As for the Stones, they did a live version of the song on one of their forgettable 70s in-concert albums, and the keyboards were played by -- wait for it -- Billy Preston.

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Was Marvin Gaye?

2009-11-02T07:15:00.001-05:00

From 1966, please enjoy the man himself and one of his coolest early singles, "One More Heartache." LOVE that guitar riff.

And now consider if you will, from later that year, a cover of same by The Artwoods, one of the lesser known Brit r&b outfits of the day, but one of the best. (That's the late Art Wood on vocals, as in older brother of Ron Wood, BTW. The evocative organ noodling in the rave-up is by Jon Lord, later of Deep Purple fame).

And finally, from 1969, here's my college band God (don't ask) in its only foray into the studio, with a sped-up white boy (and girl) version featuring dual-lead guitar several months before it became fashionable. This was our big live showpiece, actually. More cowbell!!!

The arrangement switch half way through the song -- through the miracle of tape-splicing -- was a good idea that in retrospect I think worked better as a concept than in execution, but what the hell. In any case, we were kids.

Hanging on the Telephone

2009-10-30T08:07:00.002-04:00

[Editor's Note: Just in case you missed the news on the Thursday Screamin' Jay Hawkins post, Weekend Listomania is on a one week hiatus while I digest all those heavy Ohio sauces consumed during my Dayton vacation. We now resume our programming, already in progress..]

You know, much as I love him, I don't, generally speaking, really think of Richard Thompson as a powerpop guy. Which is one reason I just dig the hell out of this 1998 RT live version of "She May Call You Up Tonite," my third favorite song on The Left Banke's classic and genre-defining 1966 album.

I've actually got a live tape -- which I may post one of these days -- of my 90s band doing this at a club somewhere, with me on keyboards. It's nowhere near as good as this, of course.

In any case, I bring the whole thing up because our good pal Sal Nunziato, over at the incomparable Burning Wood, just posted about a recent Richard show he attended, and he let the following mind-boggling bit of tid drop almost in passing.

Someone requested 'She May Call You Up' by The Left Banke, which Thompson performs live often. He offered up some info that will forever haunt me. "I could play the whole Left Banke first album."

To which Sal added, and to which I can only echo: "WHEN?"

The Long Adieu

2009-10-29T08:35:00.009-04:00

Well, for those of you keeping score, I'm home at last, and yes, as in the Chuck Berry song, I'm so glad to be back in the USA. After, admittedly, a rather magical week in Dayton, Ohio, if you know what I mean.

In any case, I should mention that while en vacance I did in fact prepare a Weekend Listomania for tomorrow, but somehow it must have disappeared from my computer into the Gallic ether.

That being the case, I've decided to take my first vacation from Listomania in over two years (since I started posting the series, actually. I'm sure you'll understand).

So -- no clue later today, and just normal posting tomorrow and ditto til next Thursday.

But while we wait for WL's return, here's a final tribute to the City of Lights.

From 1958, please enjoy the late great Screamin' Jay Hawkins and his sui generis paean to the great city "I Love ~~Dayton~~ Paris."

Incidentally, the album that's from -- At Home With Screamin' Jay Hawkins -- is one of the first (from the concept on down) rock album masterpieces, and behooves behearing. "I saw a Mau-Mau kissing Santa Claus" indeed.

Great Existential Sex Symbols of the 60s (An Occasional Series)

2009-10-28T02:34:00.006-04:00

So the other day I'm wandering around the fabulous Carnavalet, the French history museum in beautiful downtown Dayton, Ohio, when I ran smack into this striking portrait of one of the great babe obsessions of my youth.

That is, of course, the incomparable Juliette Greco, who -- for you whippersnappers -- is without doubt the sexiest Beatnik chick in black tights to ever sing a suggestive song. Usually while sitting on a stool and silhouetted by a single spotlight.

Here she is, from 1967, with one of her signature tunes, "Deshabillez-moi." Which means exactly what you think it does, BTW.

You're welcome.

Greetings from Dayton, Ohio!

2009-10-27T02:38:00.003-04:00

Okay, this is the most pretentious thing I've ever done, but I've wanted to do it for years and years and now I have.

From 1967, please enjoy the pre-cosmic Moody Blues with the great Denny Laine and their oh so sad and haunting ode to Parisian heartbreak, the gorgeous and very French -- dig that accordion! -- "Boulevard de La Madeleine."

It's a sad day in Paris
With no girl by my side
Got to feeling so badly
Like a part of me died
It would have been
So good to see her
I never thought
She wouldn't be there
There's no girl standing there
And there's no one who cares
And the trees are so bare
On the Boulevard de la Madeleine

I was luckier than the song's protagonist, of course; I got to stand on the street with a certain shady dame taking the picture, if not quite by my side (until we were done, obviously.)

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Part XXVI

2009-10-26T05:31:00.001-04:00

Okay, this one's just cool. Which is to say I knew that George Harrison's 1987 hit was a remake of an oldie, but I had never heard the original and knew nothing of its provenance.

So -- from 1962, please enjoy James Ray and the original r&b version of "I've Got My Mind Set on You."

Although the song wasn't a big hit in its day, Harrison discovered it when he bought Ray’s album of the same name during a holiday visit to his sister in the US in September 1963. Obviously, it struck a nerve with George thematically; it is perhaps no accident that in Help!, two years later, there are already several references to the quiet Beatle being, how you say, a little tight with the cash. (The DivShare clip, incidentally, is to the longer album version, not the single itself, which is reputedly a lot shorter.)

And here's George's take, produced by Jeff Lynne. Nobody realized it at the time, but this was clearly the beginning of the whole Travelling Wilbury's thing -- clearly, this wouldn't have been out of place on their epochal first album.

If truth be told, Ray's version is a weird stylistic mishmash -- it's got a real Jamaican feel in spots, and even a bit of a lounge vibe, and to be honest, for a change I prefer the cover, inauthentic as it may be.

Weekend Listomania (Special Soupy Sales 1926-2009 Edition)

2009-10-23T07:17:00.011-04:00

[Gentle readers, a very great man has died.

All of us here at PowerPop extend our sincere condolences to his family, in particular to his rock star sons Hunt and Tony Sales and, of course, to hero of Steve's youth, the unforgettable Pookie the Lion.

Please observe a moment of silence, and when it's over, Soupy will send you a postcard from Puerto Rico.

We now resume our regular programming.]

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, a certain shady dame and I will be heading off to the City of Lights -- incomparable Paris, France -- where we'll be hanging out in anti-American boites on the Left Bank, sipping absinthe and screaming "Ou est les Existentialistes?" while...

Oh, who am I kidding. Feh. Everybody knows we'll actually be in a crummy Motel 6 in downtown Dayton, Ohio.

In any case, posting by moi will more than likely be sporadic for a little while.

But in the meantime, here's another little fun project for us all:

Post-Beatles Song or Album Whose Meaning Remains Baffling to You No Many How Many Times You've Contemplated It!!!

No arbitrary rules; just vent about the ones that make you scratch votre tete till you bleed. I should also add that this edition is blessedly free of anything featuring Billy Corgan's pretentious cueball noggin, on the theory (which is mine, and I have it) that there actually isn't a Smashing Pumpkins song that means anything.

And my totally top of my head Top Five is:

5. Bob Dylan -- I'm Not There

Okay, I realize I used this one as the clue yesterday, but frankly it's too weird not to include again. Seriously -- the damn thing is like a musical/literary Mobius Strip; I've listened to it countless times and I'm still at a loss.

4. Procol Harum -- All This and More

True story: My college buds and I were kind of obsessed with Procol, and this song -- lyrics by Keith Reed, 'natch -- had a line we never could parse. To wit: "Like Maddox in the days of old/We'll feast and drink until we fold." Who the fuck is Maddox?, we puzzled long into several stoned dorm room nights. Got to be an obscure English lit reference, right? Trips to the college library and entreaties to various profs proved unavailing, so you can imagine our excitement when Procol Harum arrived, in the flesh, to play a show at our old school, and I conned my way backstage to confront the Great Lyricist himself.

Anyway, I finally cornered the guy -- who was basically sitting all by himself in the hospitality suite, playing with the roast beef -- and asked him breathlessly "Hey Keith -- to who were your referring with that Maddox line? What 16th century sonnet is that a metaphor from?"

He looked at me with some alarm and, before turning on his heels and fleeing, he said "Well, first of all, it's not Maddox. It's mad ox."

Like I said, true story. To this day, I don't know what the significance of a mad ox in the days of old is.

3. Guided By Voices -- The Official Ironmen Rally Song

I love this one unreservedly (it's the first GBV track that made sense to me, if you must know) and having just become the proud owner of this gorgeous guitar, I am in the process of learning how to play the cool riff. But what the fuck does the lyric mean? Hopefully your guess is better than mine...

2. The New Pornographers -- Letter From an Occupant

"For the love of a god, you say -- not a letter from an occupant." Everybody's (and mine) favorite indie alt-rock (or whatever) single of 2002, and if you have any idea what it's about, please e-mail me at WTF@Ihaventaclue.com.

And the numero uno headscratcher in the entire rock canon, I will brook no dissension on this matter, unquestionably remains...

1. The Jaynetts -- Sally Go Round the Roses

Nearly fifty years later, it remains the most mysterious and enigmatic song to ever have cracked the Top Ten. Who is Sally? Why should she go round the roses? What does going round the roses even entail, for heaven's sake?

Alrighty, then -- what would your choices be?

Yet Another Fricking, Wait for It, Early Clue to the New Direction!

2009-10-22T15:58:00.001-04:00

From 1968, and whichever of the thousand volumes of The Basement Tapes, please enjoy Bob Dylan's gnomic in the extreme "I'm Not There."

This is, of course, also the title song of the fabulous ~~Gus Van Sant~~ Todd Haynes movie of the same name, starring Cate Blanchett as the Highway 61/Blonde on Blonde Bob, an incarnation in which he exuded, in Lester Bangs' famous phrase, all the androgynous fascination of a strung-out Puerto Rican hooker.

In any case, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who gleans the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

Kids Today

2009-10-22T10:03:00.002-04:00

In the same basic vein as the fan video for The New Pornographer's "Bleeding Heart Show," (a video I still adore for its uncomplicated adolescent faith in romance and being yourself), please enjoy another I stumbled across, British this time, for The Shins' "Turn a Square." Too funny.

Tell me that's not adorable. I love the boys giving each other the chocolates.

A Friend Writes...

2009-10-22T08:28:00.000-04:00

The other day, you may recall, we were talking about the amazing Bonzo Dog Band (I forget the context -- Listomania, probably) and I happened to mention that I had been lucky enough to see them during their only (1969) American tour (triple billed with The Kinks and Spirit at the old Fillmore East. Yes, those were the days.)

The Bonzos, of course, were pound for pound the funniest satirical rock band ever seen or heard by sentient mammalian eyes and ears, and don't give me any of that The Mothers or The Tubes or whoever shit 'cause I don't want to hear it.

Anyway, shortly thereafter I got an e-mail from my old pal Gregory Fleeman, still pound for pound the funniest serious satirical rock songwriter ever seen or heard blah blah blah.

Turns out Greg had his own encounter with the Bonzos back in the day, and I thought I'd share it with you, as it's fascinating on several historical levels.

Wrote Greg:

In 1969, I was a freshman at American University, and as my extracurricular activity I worked at the college radio station -- WAMU, or as we referred to it,“W A M All Over U.” That kind of thing passed for wit in my younger days.

The best word I can use to describe WAMU is “retrograde”. The station manager was REALLY into Steve and Eydie, Al Martino, etc. This was, what, 2 years after the Summer of Love, which clearly did not affect AU at all -- I was required to wear a Freshman Beanie for Rush Week (which lasted about 45 seconds on my particular calendar…) Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that I was considered quite the freak at the radio station, being into things like The Bonzos or Randy Newman or The Beatles. Also, stealing records from the radio station that no one else played became the basis of my record collection.

At some point, I somehow found out that the Bonzos were going to play the Fillmore East, so I decided to make my debut as a “rock journalist.” I had no fucking idea what to do, so I just called up Liberty Records and told the receptionist that I was a disc jockey in Washington, DC, and I would like to interview the Bonzo Dog Band, if you please. She said, “One moment please,” and the next thing I knew I was connected to someone in the publicity department –- someone who clearly had nothing better to do than sit around waiting for assholes like me to call. The guy said sure, you can go see the Bonzos, and in no short order I had tickets to two shows AND BACKSTAGE PASSES for the upcoming Fillmore East dates.

I had no idea it was that easy.

I borrowed a tape recorder from the music department (without their knowledge), hitchhiked to NYC and eventually found myself backstage interviewing my idols. Wow, Vivian Stanshall and Neil Innes are talking to ME! (Of course, in retrospect, nobody else was back there interviewing them –- clearly, the PR guy had found them a bit of a hard sell.) Anyway, they were very pleasant and funny and we made arrangements to continue the interview at their hotel on Sunday. When I got there on Sunday, they all seemed sort of depressed. I asked them why they were so sad, and there was an awkward silence. Finally, Vivian Stanshall replied, “Well, we just broke up, you see.” I could only think, “This is an amazing scoop. I am the first “journalist” with this astonishing news, AND I HAVE NO ONE TO TELL IT TO." Rather sad, that.

I think they did one or two more contractual gigs, and then they went home.

One sort of amusing postscript: This was the first time The Kinks had played NYC in years (having been banned by the Musicians Union for whatever reason) and at one point, while walking around backstage with my little tape recorder, I accidentally wandered into The Kinks dressing room, and found myself face to face with…Ray Davies! I was rather stunned at this turn of events. I said to Mr. Davies, “May I interview you?” He graciously agreed. It was only then that I realized that I was so starstruck at meeting Ray Davies that I had NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT TO ASK HIM. I stammered a bit and finally coughed up that hoary old standby, the sine qua non of lame rock interview questions, “Who would you say are your biggest influences?”

Ray paused, smiled gently,said “I think Mick Avory can answer that,” and then got up and left the room.

I still find that funny.

Me too, Greg, me too.

And as another hopefully equally amusing postscript, please enjoy this fan video for the Bonzo's hilarious "The Intro and the Outro."

Digging General DeGaulle on accordion...!!!

Spread the Birthday Love

2009-10-21T07:37:00.003-04:00

to our co-blogger steve, who celebrates his natal anniversary today! Enjoy, my friend!

Ooooo! a present!

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Part III

2009-10-21T00:00:00.005-04:00

Okay, this one's freaking me out, mostly because I had no idea.

Remember Millie Small's 1964 Brit Invasion hit "My Boy Lollipop"? The record that, in retrospect, turned out to be the first exposure any of us State-side had to the pre-reggae Jamaican music called ska? And, coincidentally, the song that put Island Records honcho Chris Blackwell on the map?

Well, turns out it's a cover of an obscure 1956 r&b hit by Barbie Gaye (no relation to Marvin)

I think in this case the cover is clearly better -- it's better sung and much poppier (the horns are an added hook) and, well, just better.

Incidentally, if you're wondering why the hole in the Barbie Gaye label is so small, that's because it's a 78 rpm record. Back in 1956, you could still buy pop singles in two formats, i.e. either easily breakable ten-inch 78 or the more familiar seven-inch 45.

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Part XXVI

2009-10-20T12:05:00.012-04:00

And I Would Have Gotten Away With It If It Hadn't Been For You Meddling Kids!

2009-10-20T08:05:00.000-04:00

Okay, mystery solved!

I refer of course to the unidentified tape our friend David Klein (who does business over at the wonderful Merry Swankster) discovered in his archives and tried to track down with our help back on October 8.

As you may recall, he originally recorded it some time in the mid-80s off WFMU-FM, and forwarded it to us via a low-fi cel phone mp3. Have a listen and refresh your memory.

My guess at the time was that it was somebody's homemade basement demo from the period. Others -- specifically intrepepid reader Dominic Cordisco -- noted its uncanny resemblance to a rather obscure song from an even more obscure movie soundtrack by The Cyrkle, of "Red Rubber Ball" Fame. Which sounded equally plausible to me, if truth be told.

In any case, Dave e-mailed me with the answer over the weekend.

The song is by Jim Price, a WFMU DJ and musician. It appears on a compilation that went out solely to FMU listeners in 1987, so there's no mystery as to why it was so hard to identify: the only people who heard it were various free-form radio listeners from 20 years ago. Ace DJ Bob Brainen played it on my behalf this morning on his show, and it was swiftly ID'd by one of the faithful. Now it's on to the next obsession...

Which means that, yes, it is somebody's homemade basement demo from the period.

And also, of course, that I am, indisputably, The Man.

Compare and Contrast (An Occasional Series): Part II

2009-10-19T07:52:00.002-04:00

And speaking as we were last time of white boys covering Bobby Womack -- and because commenter Walking Oliver, Ltd asked for it -- please enjoy Bobby with The Valentinos and their epochal 1963 r&b hit "Lookin' for a Love"...

...and then from their 1971 sophomore album, it's The J.Geils Band with their blues-rock take on the song, a staple of their live act for years.

To be honest, I'd never heard the Valentinos record until last week (Womack, of course, had a gorgeous solo hit with a 1974 remake), and the Geils cover has always been a favorite of mine. On reflection, however, as much as I enjoy the way the Boston Jewish kids turned the song into a party anthem, I have to admit -- the original has oodles more soul.

Mini-Post

2009-10-16T07:35:00.002-04:00

While you're cataloguing the assholes, let me stop by to say that: yes, my laptop died; no, I didn't lose the book; and yes, donations to the powerpop fund in the left sidebar are gratefully appreciated. I replaced it, because I had to, even though I could honestly not afford to. So if you can toss me five bucks, that would be wonderful.

Weekend Listomania (Special A Mighty Wind Edition)

2009-10-16T00:00:00.002-04:00

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental full-frontal design specialist Fah Lo Suee and I are heading off to Juno, Alaska, where we'll be hosting a charity fete to pick names for former Governor Sarah Palin's next kid that would be predictive of the little tyke's future career. In the running at the moment are Tarp (Yankee Stadium groundskeeper), Tripe (Wall Street Journal editorial writer) and Turk (Oily Levantine), although that last one makes no sense to me.

In any case, posting by moi will more than likely be sporadic for a little while.

But in the meantime, here's another little project for us all:

Post-Beatles Pop Star Who is (or Was), Indisputably, a Huge Asshole!!!

Self-explanatory, obviously, but I've decided not to nominate anybody based solely on their politics. My feeling is that the name of this blog is PowerPop, not Pissed-Off Lefty or National Review Groupie, so out of a decent respect for the opinions of our diverse readership, I myself won't be dissing...oops, almost gave the game away there.

That said, if the rest of you guys feel the need to trash our Pop Star betters for no other reason than their ideological proclivities, feel free. My hands are clean.

And my totally top of my head Top Five is:

5. Leo Sayer

Never buy an album from a man who looks like he should be singing the lead in Pagliacci.

4. Billy Corgan (Smashing Pumpkins)

C'mon, you knew I was going to do this. Billy Corgan: His pretentious cueball noggin, his orchestra and his chorus.

3. Ed Kowalczyk (Live)

What was I saying about pretentious cueball noggins?

2. Mike Love (The Beach Boys)

For a zillion obvious reasons. Honorable mention: Occasional Beach Boy John Stamos, who's so big an asshole he actually cheated on Rebecca Romijn.

And the numero uno braying jackass in pop music indisputably is...

1. Neil Tennant (The Pet Shop Boys)

An entire career based on his seething resentment of the fact that nobody took his favorite disco records as seriously as he did. What a jerk.

Awrighty then -- who would YOUR choice(s) be?

[Shameless Blogwhore: My parallel Cinemania -- theme: best or worst movies with a single letter or initials in the title -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, it would give both myself and management a nice warm and fuzzy feeling if you could see your way to going over there and leaving a comment. Thanks!]

Yet Another Fricking Early Clue to the New Direction!

2009-10-15T14:52:00.001-04:00

From 1968, please enjoy the incomparable Bonzo Dog Band and their hilarious paean to the glories of celebritydom in the fabulous business that we call Show -- "Look at Me I'm Wonderful."

As always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded to the first reader who gleans the clip's relevance to tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

Oh, and BTW -- I would like to go on record here at last to say a hearty "Fuck you!" to the execrable Death Cab For Cutie for copping their name from one of the Bonzos best songs.