It's Moby Grape Week Part IV: Special If We're All One, Who Needs You? Edition

From 1999, please enjoy Brit neo-folk rockers Diesel Park West and their quite remarkable cover of Skip Spence's "All Come to Meet Her Now."



For those who haven't been keeping score, the song itself derives from Oar, the shall we say somewhat quirky solo album Spence did, as a one man band, just after leaving the Grape. The DPW version derives from a fabulous Oar tribute album, which I heartily recommend, if only for Robyn Hitchcock's contribution.

In any case, if you've never heard Oar, I should add the DPW track is far more focused than Skippy's original...



...but it's essentially the same song and arrangement. In fact, what's really cool about it is that it sounds (to my ears, at least) exactly like it would have sounded had his old band mates in the Grape ever gotten a chance to bash it out along with him.

It's Moby Grape Week Part III: Special It Came From Wolverhampton Edition

From sometime circa the early 70s, please enjoy those wild and crazee guys Slade and their surprisingly authentic cover of the Grape's classic "Omaha."



I did not know this existed until yesterday, and to be honest it would never in a million years have occurred to me that Slade would have been Grape fans. Just shows to go you, I guess.

Incidentally, the song I'm putting up tomorrow is an even bigger mind boggler. In my humble opinion

It's Moby Grape Week Part II: Special Garageland Revisited Edition

From early 1966, please enjoy Seattle's The Frantics and their haunting ode to an interspecies dance craze the "Human Monkey."



Inspirational verse:

When I say jump, you've got to jump so high
When I say do, you've got to do or die
Yours is not to reason why, you fool

In case you're wondering about the song's relevance to this week's theme, I should mention that said Frantics feature Don Stevenson on drums, Jerry Miller on guitar, and Bob Mosley on bass and vocals. In other words, three fifths of the band that would achieve notoriety a year later as Moby Grape.

I must confess that I hadn't heard (or heard of) "Human Monkey" until a few days ago, when I read about it in the terrific new band bio What's Big and Purple and Lives in the Ocean: The Moby Grape Story by Cam Cobb....

...which can (and should be) acquired over at Amazon HERE.

You can sort of understand why "Human Monkey" wasn't a hit; it's not terribly well produced and it's a little weird, which is to say by early 1966 standards it's a little too smart for the room.

But damn -- it's pretty obvious those guys already sort of had the Grape template down.

It's Moby Grape Week Part I: Special Dirty F**king Hippies Edition

From 2009, and their album Warpaint Live, please enjoy The Black Crowes and their pretty darn terrific version of Moby Grape's 1967 ode to the young girls in Haight-Ashbury "Hey Grandma."



Honesty compels me to admit that I had no idea the Crowes' cover existed until the other day. It's not as transplendent as the original, but it's awfully close both musically and attitudinally.

I should add that said song is the opening track on the Grape's first LP, which is the most exciting debut album by an American rock band ever. But we'll have more to say on that subject as the week progresses.

I should also add that the reason I'm on a Grape kick of late is because I just got turned on to What's Big and Purple and Lives in the Ocean: The Moby Grape Story by Cam Cobb...

...the just released biography the band has always deserved, and which can -- and should -- be ordered over at Amazon HERE.

More on that as the week progresses as well.

[h/t Chris E]

Your Friday Moment of Words Fail Me: Special Tales of Beatnik Glory Edition

From Swedish television, in 1968, please behold in breathless wonder The Fugs and a live version of their poignant torch song "I Couldn't Get High."



Truly, there were giants in the earth in those days. I should add that the clip is worth viewing for the brief solo segment with my long time hero Ed Sanders alone.

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Have Bird, Will Sing

From 2017, please enjoy the great Taj Mahal and Keb Mo' and an achingly beautiful live acoustic version of Taj's "Corrina."



I should add that the original of that appears on Taj's debut album The Natch'l Blues, from 1968, which is one of the absolute greatest albums of its era.

And which can (and should) be acquired over at Amazon here.

I Dreamed I Saw Ziggy Stardust In My Maidenform Bra

From 2015, please enjoy Irish neo-glam rockers Five Grand Stereo and their utterly brilliant tribute to "David Bowie."



I discovered that song, by accident, a few days ago, when the world's greatest intertube radio station, KOR (out of Bath, England), featured it on a playlist also including the fabulous Floor Models. In any case, it blew me away, and still does.

I should add that my fondness for it would seem to be further evidence that yes, I really AM mellowing about Bowie in my old age.

Your Tuesday Moment of Words Fail Me.

You know, as a friend of mine said the other day, I'm a sucker for this kind of thing.

And so -- please enjoy the late great Ray Manzarek explaining it all to you.



I'm not a Doors fan particularly, although I like lots of their stuff, but I gotta say -- the above just knocks me out. He makes it look just so damn easy.

[h/t Eric Boardman]

Hey, It Was the '70s -- We Were All a Little Over the Top

Pop quiz: What's the worst musical film -- rock or otherwise -- in movie history?

With due respect to fans of Xanadu, Thank God It's Friday, and Staying Alive (the Bee Gees replaced by Frank Stallone? Genius!) I think most sentient mammals are in agreement:

Hands down, it's the 1973 singing and dancing remake of Lost Horizon.

Written by Larry Kramer (yes, him). And starring Peter Finch, Liv Ullman, Sally Kellerman, Bobby Van, Sir John Gielgud with his eyes taped back to make him look like your six year cousin pretending to be Chinese, Charles Boyer in a diaper, and a chorus of Buddhist monks in little orange Mark Spitz bathing suits.

Here's one of the big production numbers, featuring a song that helped break up the previously unassailable team of Burt Bacharach and Hal David.



True story: Back when I was a baby rock critic, I was invited to an industry pre-premiere screening of LH (Thursday, March 15, 1973 -- a day that will live in infamy) at (if memory serves) the majestic Ziegfeld Theater. It was for charity, as I recall, and most of the audience was a good thirty or forty years older than I was at the time and much better dressed; I'm pretty sure it was in fact a black-tie event, which means that I stood out along the lines of Raymond Chandler's famous tarantuala on the angelfood cake. In any case, I spent most of the first forty minutes of the film desperately trying not to laugh, for fear of having the wrath of the assembled movers and shakers descend on my punk ass, and by trying not to laugh I mean literally biting my hand to the point of drawing blood. You can imagine my relief, then, when during the above musical number, I finally started to hear nervous titters emerging from other quarters of the audience, which were then followed by an absolute tsunami of helpless guffawing from the crowd at large.

Trivia note: In the film, the library at Shangri-La is supposed to be a repository for the world's great literature. If you look closely, there are a number of Readers Digest Condensed Books on its shelves.

Postscript: The last time I wrote about LH, back in 2008, when I was toiling at the website of Box Office magazine, the film itself was unavailable on home video. Since then, it has, however unadvisedly, been released in restored form on DVD, and can be ordered over at Amazon HERE if you are so inclined. The Bacharach/David soundtrack can be found on CD HERE, although, obviously, it is recommended only to the most perverse of ears.

It's Australia Week Part V: Special Your Friday on My Mind Moment of Words Fail Me Edition

From 2007, and their essentially unplugged album of Easybeats covers So Easy...

...please enjoy antipodean rockers The Choirboys -- who I have been bending your ear about this week -- and a pretty darned cool remake of the often covered Vanda-Young classic "Good Times."



Apparently, said album is available for download somewhere; me, I got it from friend of PowerPop Peter Scott, which is yet another reason that I love my phony baloney job. In any case, I think that's pretty spectacular, and the rest of the set list is equally impressive.

I should also add that it just dawned on me that said version of "Good Times" -- and the rest of the sort-of-live acoustic covers on the album -- remind me uncannily of The Beach Boys Party LP that spawned "Barbara Ann."

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!