Je Ne Regrette Rien. Well, At Least Not Yet.

So -- a certain Shady Dame and I are about to leave London and head off for our seventh sojourn in the land of the Ignoble Frog.

As a result, posting will be oddly Gallic for the next couple of days.

Meanwhile, while we enjoy the oddly James Bondian ambience of the trans-Atlantic chunnel train and the picturesque traffic on the way to our bohemian hotel in Paris, please enjoy our traditional presentation of the Denny Laine (non-cosmic) edition of The Moody Blues and their oh so sad and beautiful ode to my favorite street in the world -- the "Boulevard de La Madeline."

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

Ah. What can I say after that except -- 'allo, sailor!

Well, At Least We're Not Worrying About the World Cup or Any of THAT Bullshit

From 1981, please enjoy The Anti-Nowhere League's sensational (and not at all ironic or disrespectful) cover of Ralph McTell's 1969 folkie classic "Streets of London."



I'm not kidding, BTW. When this was originally released, I suspect lots of people thought it was a punk piss-take, but it's not; it's just a loud/fast version of McTell's lovely ballad that sends the same message the composer intended.

And speaking of the streets of London -- this is what BG and I are seeing tonight in the West End. Starring the Poldark guy, so girls -- eat your heart out.

BG and I are having the best time ever, in case you were wondering.

Tomorrow -- off to Paris!!!

London Calling!!!

Seen today at the British Museum -- a really cool Egyptian artifact.

The weird thing is -- over the museum sound system, THIS is what we were hearing.



Hey, we're on vacation. Cut me some slack.

Starting tomorrow -- somewhat more serious postings.

Letter From Liverpool: The Coda

Off to London on the morning train, but in the meantime, here's Sir Paul McCartney's new single.



He sang a little bit of it with James Corden the other night, but this is what it sounds like for real. A classic dumb/brilliant funny/sexy rock-and-roll song, with glorious Beatles arrangement/production touches, including Paul's signature bass flourishes, the horns from Pepper or maybe "Lady Madonna,” and even a sitar, as a nod to George. Just fucking great.

Between this and the video from the Corden show, I've gonna totally all Beatlemania for a couple of days. It's a terrific feeling.

Letter From Liverpool

Words still kinda fail me.

BTW. you can't really see it in the photo, but Sir Paul himself signed the Penny Lane sign just last week.

I should add that the Beatle tour we took was amazing; I'll have more details on it, including a contact number and other info on the amazing guy who runs the show, next Monday.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

National Lampoon's Steve and BG's European Vacation (Day I)

In the immortal words of The Rutles' song -- we've arrived (in Liverpool) and to prove it we're here!



Photographic evidence -- and with any luck, an incredible anecdote which I won't give away -- will be available in this space on the morrow.

Your Wednesday Moment of Words Fail Me: Special Words REALLY Fail Me Edition

So I'm about to depart for a European vacation -- part of which will involve a Beatles tour in Liverpool (yay)! -- but while I'm getting ready for it, I thought I needed to pass this news along to you.

The Short Version: As I'm sure everybody who has ever read my poor scribblings at this here blog is aware, the legendary Yardbirds -- then featuring Jimmy Page on guitar -- did a concert at the Anderson Theater in NYC on March 23, 1968. Although the venue only sat two or three thousand people, since then approximately 50,000 liars -- most of them guitarists -- have claimed to have been in attendance at said show.

Harumph.

Unlike most of those 50,000, however, I was actually there. As was a certain Shady Dame of my acquaintance, although we did not know each other at the time. We have since bonded over our mutual attendance at said concert, but let's move on.

Anyway, a horrific live LP of said show -- with miserably mixed sound plus horrible fake echo and overdubbed bullshit applause -- was released in 1971 on Epic Records.

To his credit, Jimmy Page instantly threatened CBS/Sony with legal action over the release of said horrible album, and it was immediately pulled from circulation. At which point, it became a highly regarded, but always disappointing collectors item.

In the years between then and now, countless unofficial and/or semi-official/vaguely legal re-issues, on both vinyl and CD, of the album have been offered to the gullible public, including me. I myself have probably bought every single one of them on the off chance that the sound even remotely resembled my memory of the show, and every single one of them has sucked. Big time.

Cutting to the chase: Last week, I was web-surfing and discovered that Jimmy Page himself had re-mixed the original tapes and released them (along with a second disc of Yardbirds studio rarities) on his own label as Yardbirds 68.

And I figured -- okay, I'll give it one more shot.

And guess what -- THIS is the fucking shit.

Ladies and germs, from said reissue, I give you the opening track "Train Kept A Rollin'."

Behold it in breathless wonder.



Let's just say that rest of the record is perhaps even more mind-boggling, including a version of "White Summer" that will make the hair on the back of your neck jump up and do the Macarena.

You can (and should) buy the whole thing OVER HERE.

Meanwhile, wish us Bon Voyage and we'll talk to you, albeit perhaps briefly, on Thursday and Friday when we're a little more organized.

Your Tuesday Moment of Words Fail Me

From 2004, it's Say Anything and their harrowing yet strangely uplifting "Alive With the Glory of Love."



This song, which I think is kind of a masterpiece, is also newly relevant, given the horrific scenes of children in cages we've been seeing for the last couple of days. That's all I'm gonna say about that at the moment. In any case, this is to my knowledge the only pop punk song whose subject is the love between a Jewish man and woman beset by the Nazis during WW II.

On a less somber note, I can only add that any song that steals the beat from The Supremes' "You Can't Hurry Love" is probably eternally relevant.

[h/t Dan Fridman]

Okay It's Official -- I Have Totally Mellowed on David Bowie in My Old Age

Not sure when this is from, but it's absolutely hilarious.



I swear to god, I had no idea until relatively recently that Bowie was so charming and funny.

It's Moby Grape Week Part V: Special The Abyss Stares Back Edition

From 1969, please enjoy Moby Grape and their astonishing version of "Seeing." Or as we call it around Casa Simels, Skip Spence's masterpiece.

If you seen the naked dream I had of you
Would you care and, and come through?

Take me far away, my wiser mind gave me the dream of death today
How to get by when what greets my eye takes my breath away

In my dream you were all in your stalls I watched your walls all fade away
You were bare of thoughts, we were to part and we stayed that way

Some tried to hide because they lied, they were not true and they were afraid
They refuse to see or be free, be one with me and to gods, they prayed

Cryin', "Save me, save me, save me, save me, save me
I'll save you, can I spend you?

And now this naked dream I had of you
Will you care and come through?

Take me far away, my wiser mind gave me the dream of death today
Hard to get by when what greets my eye takes my breath away

Cryin', "Save me, save me, save me"

Apart from the fact that said track is brilliant on every level (from Spence's hauntingly mumbled opening vocal to the haunted church organ that closes it) I saved it for the end of the week because the Grape bio that I've been telling you about -- What's Big and Purple and Lives in the Ocean: The Moby Grape Story by Cam Cobb....

...while otherwise estimable advances the thesis that the Grape's 2nd and 3rd albums, including '69, from whence said track derives, are inferior to the failed Grape comeback album from the early '70s.

A thesis that I believe to be completely -- and demonstrably, if you listen to "Seeing" -- wrong.

Absurdly wrong, actually.

In any case, I should add that Robert Plant recorded a pretty good cover of "Seeing," which you can find on YouTube. Plant's probably the highest profile Grape fan around, now that I think of it.

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!

UPDATE: Through a mutual friend, Grape drummer Don Stevenson has graciously forwarded me a corrected version of the "Seeing" lyrics. I have made the appropriate changes, and I'm even more impressed with Skippy as a wordsmith. Thanks, Don, from the bottom of my rapidly ageing rock-and-roll heart.

[h/t The Swede]